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senditcolton · 10 months ago

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praise you like i should

song inspo: praising you word count: 3.4k warnings: smut! feminine reader, oral (f receiving), unprotected penetration and - of course - praise.

a/n: as i have said before, it's always loving matthew tkachuk hours on this blog. you had to know this was coming eventually. this is also extremely self-indulgent so, there's that. i really don't have anything else to say except: sorry not sorry.

The sound of Matthew’s keys clattering onto the small entrance table – the one that you convinced him to buy a few months earlier – echoes though the house. But you barely have time to register the noise before Matthew’s hands reattach themselves to your hips as he continues to use his body to push you into the house.

Desperate to get you alone.

This was the inevitable conclusion to your night out. It was New Year’s Eve – well now, New Year’s Day – and Matt loved to cap off any celebration by having you tangled in his sheets. Not that you minded. So, him almost speeding home from the downtown bar where you were celebrating with his teammates, his hand on your thigh, wasn’t unexpected. Especially after that kiss he pressed against your lips when the clock struck twelve.

But the way he is practically dragging you up the stairs, his hands never letting go of you; how he pulls you into his bedroom, his own desperation melding with yours… there was more than regular desire fueling his actions. And when he spins to kiss you again, your own head spins with it.

“Congratulations, baby,” comes his delicate whisper, his lips brushing yours.

There it was: the answer to his intensity. Tonight was no longer a celebration of the brand-new year, filled with possibilities, stretching out in front of the two of you. This was a celebration of you. You had graduated. Diploma sent and a new degree to your name. That was the contents of the official school email you opened earlier at the party, bouncing with excitement at the reality that all of your hard work paid off. You told Matthew immediately and his pride for you immediately turned into him announcing your success to the others which turned into a cheer and a toast in your direction.

Which apparently morphed into a heightened level of passion for Matthew.

You sigh, leaning your head back as his lips trail down to your neck and soon to the sharp angles of your collarbones, peeking out from underneath the straps of your dress. Your fingers tangle into his cropped curls as he sucks a hickey into your skin, marking you as his, something you never disputed. His lips eventually trail back up towards your own.

“Can’t believe I’m lucky enough to date such a beautiful, amazing, insanely smart girl like you,” he says, punctuating each adjective with a peck against your lips.

“Can’t believe I’m dating such a gorgeous, talented, wonderful person like you,” you reply, echoing his statement and actions, loving the feeling of his lips curling up in a smile at your words.

“Hush,” he playfully silences you, using his body to walk you back deeper into the room. Soon, you feel the edge of the mattress against the back of your knees. Matthew guides you to sit down, pressing one final kiss against your lips before raising himself to his full height. Instinctually, your hands fly up to his belt, ready to undo the buckle. But before your fingertips could even graze the cold metal, Matt catches your wrists, halting your movements.

“Not tonight, sweetheart. Tonight’s all about you.”

Your breath catches in your throat twice: first, at the way he gazes down at you with such admiration and love and then at the sight of him dropping to his knees in front of you. He guides your hands to your sides before letting them go, his own hands free to glide against the smooth skin of your upper thighs. His gentle touches continue, every brush against your skin igniting the fire that burned in your lower stomach.

You can only watch him as he lifts one of your legs, placing your foot against his chest before his hands move to the straps of your high heel. He deftly undoes the ties from around your ankle before pulling the shoe off of your foot, placing a delicate kiss against your shin before reaching down and repeating the same sequence with your other leg.

It feels like reverence, like a kind of worship.

The gentle press of Matthew’s hands guides your legs open and a smirk tugs at your lips when you see his eyes darken at the sight of your bare core exposed to him.

“No panties tonight?”

“Figured you’d be between my thighs at some point. Didn’t want you ruining another pair,” you quip, that teasing energy that was a bedrock in your relationship flowing easily. Matthew shares your grin, lifting one of your ankles to rest on his shoulder.

“So confident,” he murmurs, his lips returning to your skin, tracing a slow deliberate path up your leg.

“Wonder where I get that from?”

This time, Matthew doesn’t respond to your jab, choosing to continue to kiss his way up your leg, his lips pressing against your calf… knee… inner thigh… so close to the place you wanted him most. But before he reaches the inevitable destination, he switches over to your other leg, repeating the same tortuous process. Your head falls back, your hips rolling towards him, in desperation or encouragement, you weren’t entirely sure. Whatever the reason, Matthew does not fall for it, still moving at a snail’s pace.

The whine that rips from your chest is involuntary as he disappears completely, lifting himself off the floor and capturing your lips in another needy kiss, before he pulls away.

“Lay back, sweetheart.”

Your response to his gentle demand is silent yet immediate as you push yourself further onto the bed, moving your body up until your back hits the mound of pillows resting against the headboard. Your eyes find Matthew still standing at the foot of the bed, his own blue eyes drinking you in. You let your thighs fall open and the groan that rumbles from Matthew’s chest is surely in response to the sight of your arousal glistening in the low lamplight of the bedroom.

Matthew doesn’t hesitate a moment longer, climbing onto the bed before taking a hold of one of your legs. He throws the limb over his shoulder and you think – and hope – that he isn’t going to tease you anymore. But you should’ve known better. Being a pest was just in his nature; a nature that came out as his lips brush against your skin, retracing the path he previously charted.

However, this time he doesn’t jump to the opposite side. Instead, he lifts your other leg so both are now perched on top of his broad shoulders. That devilish smirk graces his lips before he finally – finally – leans in and presses his tongue flat against your cunt. Your moan reverberates around the bedroom as Matthew moves against your core, his tongue stroking against your folds before trailing upwards to flick your clit, his lips wrapping around the sensitive nub. Your hips move of their own volition, bucking against him as he continues his movements, a fresh wave of arousal flooding your pussy with every motion of his skilled tongue.

“Fuck, Matthew, feels so good,” you whine, your voice high and tight in your throat. His only response is a moan of his own, the vibrations against your core causing your desperation to rachet even higher. You can feel his hands on your hips, encouraging your movements as he continues to devour you.

His hands fall lower, gripping the back of your thighs and you gasp as – in a move that you were too strung out to comprehend – he flips both of you, his back pressed against the sheets and your knees now digging into the mattress on either side of his head.

The sharp inhale from the sudden display of strength turns into a softer exhale as you realize exactly what Matthew is proposing. Your eyes connect to his as he looks up at you from between your thighs, and you know the question that you see in his irises reflects the same in your own.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let me take care of you,” Matthew whispers, pressing another soft kiss into the skin of your inner thigh, causing a shiver to run through your body.

“Are you sure?”

“Wouldn’t be begging if I wasn’t.”

Another trill runs down your spine, the eagerness he displayed making you feel insanely attractive – even more so than he usually made you feel. You slowly sink down, Matthew meeting you halfway, reattaching his mouth to your core. A whimper falls from your lips as your hand shoots down to tangle in his hair once more.

The whines and moans never cease as Matthew’s lips and tongue dance around your folds, exploring every crevice, greedily lapping the fresh waves of desire that flow from you. His hands stroke against your thighs before lifting, pushing your dress further up your body before grabbing your hips. You feel the press of his grasp, encouraging you to move, a request that you give into easily, rolling your body against him.

His own moans sound and the sensation causes your hips to buck, the hand that wasn’t tangled in your curls shooting out to grasp the headboard in front of you. Matthew continues to eat you out like you were his favorite dessert or his last meal on earth and when his lips move upwards to wrap around your sensitive clit, you can’t stop the cascade of curses that fall.

“Fuck, Matty, right there,” you whine, practically grinding on his face.

Matthew listens, repeating the motion and every move of his tongue pulls your orgasm closer and closer. It isn’t long until his ministrations push you over that edge, your orgasm crashing into you like a tidal wave. Your body stills, head falling forward as you feel your thighs tremble with the effort of holding you up, the aftershocks still running through you.

Matthew doesn’t stop until you are pushing him back, his head dropping onto the pillows. Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, your eyes fluttering open to connect with his. Another moan threatens to escape when you see his tongue flick out to lick his lips clean.

You don’t waste any time scooting down the length of his body in order to crash your lips against his. His hands tangle into your hair, pulling you closer, the kisses you exchange just as desperate as they ever were.

You never wanted to let him go and he makes it clear that he felt the same way.

Eventually, the kisses slow until Matthew is pulling away, brushing the now damp strands of hair out of your face.

“I love you,” he whispers, pressing another – much softer kiss – against your lips. “My smart, sexy graduate.”

“Are you going to give me a present? A reward for my new degree?” you quip, a grin breaking out on your face; one that is quickly mirrored by Matthew.

“That wasn’t enough?”

A light giggle escapes as you lift your body upright, straddling him as you flip your hair back, pretending to think about his question.

“That was really, really, good. But,” you start to reply, moving to grind against Matthew’s lap, his head falling back as he feels your soaked cunt rub against his length, straining against the denim of his jeans. “I was thinking of something else.”

“Greedy,” he chirps but his own words are shaky as you continue your movements against him, his hands returning to your hips. “Fuck, babe. How do you want it?”

You don’t respond right away, instead choosing to lean down and kiss him again, before giving him the answer that you had decided well before he asked – a decision you made in that downtown bar when he kissed you at midnight.

“From behind,” you whisper against his lips before lifting yourself upright once more. That cocky expression dances across Matthew’s face as he appraises you, his eyebrow raising in question.

“Are you sure you can handle that?” he questions, his hands dropping to delicately trace his fingertips against your legs, causing the muscles to tremble in response to the sensation. Matthew reads your body’s involuntary reaction, shooting another look in your direction.

You bite your lip, your head nodding frantically in an effort to show how much you needed him. Another gasp rips from your throat as Matthew lifts his torso off the bed to press against you.

“Such a desperate thing. Fucking needy for me, aren’t you? My beautiful girl,” he murmurs before capturing your lips in another frenzied kiss.

The kisses deepen, each of you exploring the other’s mouth. You feel Matthew’s hands lift to undo the zipper on your back and your own hands fall to tug at the soft material of his sweater. You both break apart, pulling the offending material over each other’s head and exposing his and your warm skin.

You hear Matthew quietly curse at the sight of your bare chest, his hand splayed on your back as he pulls you closer, his lips landing on your collarbone before trailing down to your breasts. A moan falls as he teases your nipples with his mouth and your hands shoot down to the waistband of his jeans, undoing the belt before tearing the leather away. Your hands return to unbutton and unzip the denim enough for you to slip your hand underneath the material. Your warm palm presses against his cock, stroking him slowly, Matthew uttering another curse against your skin.

It isn’t long until Matthew maneuvers the two of you to stand at the foot of the bed, kisses never ceasing. Your hands make quick work of the remaining clothes hanging from Matthew’s frame, pushing his jeans and underwear down onto the carpet. He kisses you once more as he kicks the clothes to the side before he breaks away.

“All fours, baby.”

The demand was one that you are all too eager to follow. You climb back onto the mattress, arching your spine towards him in a silent plea. You sigh in relief as you feel the mattress sink underneath the weight of Matthew climbing up behind you. It quickly turns to a moan as you feel him stroke the tip of his dick over your folds, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine.

“Pretty pussy is so wet for me,” he mutters, more so to himself than to you but you find yourself nodding in agreement as you jut your hips back, hoping he would soon press himself into you. His strong grip halts your movements, a chuckle rumbling from his chest at your desperation.

“Please, Matty. Don’t make me beg.”

Matthew leans over you, his lips pressing gently into your spine, a strong juxtaposition to the feeling of his length rubbing against your folds, sliding against your clit. The sensation makes your cunt clench, more of your arousal dripping out and coating the smooth skin of his shaft.

“But you’re so gorgeous when you beg.”

“And here I was thinking you were treating me,” you huff, not in maliciousness but just pure lust.

Matthew must have taken your retort as a challenge because before you can get another word out, he thrusts himself into your core with a force that steals the remaining breath from your lungs.

“Want to repeat that, sweetheart?” he questions and you shake your head as he continues to rock into you, the only sounds able to escape your throat are soft moans.

Your sounds fuel him on, his hands tightening around your hips as he pulls you in to meet his thrusts, the lewd sounds of him slapping against you filling the bedroom. His eyes are glued to where the two of you connect, watching as your cunt greedily swallows all of him.

“Look so fucking perfect like this.”

His praise warms you from the inside out and spurs you on even more. You take control of the motions, fucking yourself back onto him, the moans that fall from his lips encouraging you to continue. His hands move from your hips to trace up the curves of your body before dancing across your shoulder blades and back down your spine. The contrast between his forceful thrusts and the ways his fingertips dance across your skin drives you insane, the absolute need for him reaching another level. Matthew’s hands continue to stroke your body, his arm dipping beneath you. Suddenly, he pulls your body upright so your back ends up pressed against his chest.

“So beautiful,” he whispers into your hair, his hips never ceasing their motions. The new angle of your body allows the tip of Matthew’s cock to brush against that delicious spot inside you, the feeling forcing your hand to fly back to the nape of his neck to steady yourself, your head falling against his shoulder.

Matthew takes the opportunity to attach his lips to your neck, marking you again as his strong arms stay wrapped around your torso, holding you steady as your legs start to tremble. You feel his hand stretch against the soft skin of your lower stomach before it sinks low enough to dip between your folds, his calloused fingertips connecting to your clit.

“Oh God, fuck, Matty,” you whine as his hand rubs the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“That’s right, baby. Let me hear you. Let me hear how good I make you feel.”

His encouragement allows you to let go, the moans falling freely as he continues to play with your clit, his thrusts hitting deeper than you ever felt before, pushing you closer and closer to that precipice.

“Come on, sweetheart. Want to feel that perfect cunt tighten around me when you cum.”

You don’t need any more incentive, your orgasm rocketing through you, your entire body shaking as you succumbed to the waves of pleasure radiating from your lower stomach out to the tips of your limbs. You hear Matthew mutter a curse against your neck, his teeth digging into your skin as he thrusts into you a final time before his own peak hits him, the sensation of your orgasm pushing him to completion.

Your body feels lax as you lean against Matthew, his arms still holding you close as both of you come down, your mixed staccato breathing slowing to satisfied sighs. Matthew moves first, pressing a gentle kiss against your temple before delicately removing himself from your core. His hands adjust your body until you are laying against the sheets, tired and spent. Matt gently throws a blanket over you, the sweat starting to cool on your skin, pressing another kiss onto your forehead before leaving the room.

Your gaze stays glued to the doorway, although it is a fight to keep your eyes open, eyelids heavy with fatigue. Thankfully, it isn’t long until Matthew comes waltzing back into the room, a pair of sweatpants low on his hips, a washcloth and a bottle of Gatorade in each hand.

You can’t stop the giggle that escapes as he hands you the drink, lifting your tired body up to rest against the pillows before taking a sip. Matthew sits on the mattress, facing you as he lifts the damp washcloth to brush away the dried sweat from your hairline, your neck, your chest, before dipping between your thighs to wipe away the sticky residue of your combined release from your soft skin. You let him take care of you, accepting his hand as he helps lift you from the bed and leads you to the bathroom.

He leaves you with a kiss, letting you complete your bedtime routine. And when you leave the master bathroom, you see Matthew finish placing a new set of bedsheets on the mattress. He sees you standing in the doorway, a smile appearing on his face as you walk over and climb into bed. Matthew quickly follows, sneaking underneath the blankets, his arms reaching out to you and pulling you close.

The two of you lay there for a moment in silence, taking in the sound of the other’s breathing and the warmth of each other’s embrace, before Matthew speaks.

“I’m so proud of you,” he whispers, his eyes connecting to yours through the darkness. “For everything you’ve accomplished. You’re amazing.”

You lean forward, pressing another kiss into his lips – a kiss that he immediately deepens, your limbs tangling together until it was hard to tell where one of you ended and the other began. Eventually, you pull away, ducking your head to curl up against Matthew’s chest. The grips of sleep almost take you immediately, but you stay awake long enough to reply.

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

The last think you register is the vibration of a chuckle emanating from Matthew at your playful chirp and the feeling of his lips burying themselves in your hair before sleep finally overtakes you.

tagging one of my fav matty lovers, @tkachvkmatthew

#nicole writes #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk smut #florida panthers fic #florida panthers imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine #la petite mort

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cxrrodedcoffin · 5 months ago

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Hair Lockets - Spencer Reid

Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!

——

“Cut with dull scissors and tied with a ribbon, curated under the glass of my pendant”

Summary: BAU!Reader asks Spencer for a lock of his hair after a near miss and a visit to the museum.

Word Count: 1.1K, not proofread oops ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

A/N: i’m overly sentimental and a sucker for ephemera of all kinds, including the old school tradition of keeping a lock of your lover’s hair so that’s exactly what this is. also kind of an explanation for jesus reid cutting his hair? titled after and inspired by the song hair lockets by nicole dollanganger <3

if you want to learn more about the history of the art mentioned in this fic, this article is super informative!

TW: kissing, gunshot mention, mild anxiety, i think that’s it?

Rating: PG, this is all fluff baybee :)

——

When Spencer proposed the two of you visit the local art history museum on your last day in the midwestern town the latest case had brought the team to, you hesitantly agreed, though the idea of relaxing in your hotel room until your flight the next morning seemed much more appealing after the traumatic nature of the events surrounding this particular case.

Spencer had another near miss with an unsub and from the moment the bullet hit his vest your heart felt like it would tear itself apart. This man that only a year ago had been just your nerdy, know it all coworker now felt like a part of you, and the idea of losing him was almost too much to bear. He walked away with only a deep bruise, but you couldn’t help but cry yourself to sleep that night at the thought of what the alternative could have been.

Now, almost a week later, as you anxiously wait for him to get back from the class he had today, you think back to that museum trip.

The thought had embedded itself in your brain from the moment you laid eyes on the most unique piece of art you’d seen - a victorian era hair sculpture. The concept of having a piece of your loved one, something their very body had curated, with you forever touched you deeply. That is what you wanted, a piece of your lover to hold over your heart whenever you are apart.

You heard the key turn in the door, your heart thumping in your chest as you watch Spencer walk through the doorway.

“Hello my love.” He coos, giving you a tired smile.

“Hey Spence.” You reply, walking toward him, hoping he wouldn’t see the way your hands tremble.

There was no hiding your nerves though, Spencer could read you like a book. He takes your hand in his as he slips off his shoes, guiding you to the couch.

“Is something wrong?” He questions, concern lacing his gaze as he looks over your features.

“No no, I’m okay Spence, I promise. I just have something I want to ask you.” You stumble over your words, unsure if it’s worth asking at this point.

“What is it? You know you can ask me anything.” He reassures.

“You can say no, I don’t want you to feel pressured.” You waver, unable to hold eye contact any longer.

He nods, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand.

“I was wondering if you would be willing to let me cut a small lock of your hair, t-to keep in my locket so you’re always with me. I know it’s weird but that sculpture we saw at the museum just stuck with me.” You ramble, your gaze fixed on your lap.

Spencer slips his fingers under your chin, gently raising your head to look you in the eyes.

“You know, keeping locks of hair is actually a practice that dates back centuries, even before the victorian era. It was common for families to use locks of hair from one or many family members to weave intricate sculptures as a mourning ritual in some cultures and to create family heirlooms in others. In recent time, during wartime it was common practice for soldiers to present a lock of their hair to their lovers as a forget-me-not. The sentiment is a sign of love, I’m honored you want to keep a piece of me with you.” His voice is calm, unwavering, somehow knowing exactly what to say to calm your nerves.

He squeezes your hand one last time, standing and telling you to stay where you are before disappearing into the next room.

A moment later he comes back, scissors and spool of ribbon in hand. He hands you the items before sitting cross-legged on the couch, turning to face you.

“Take whatever your heart desires.” He smiles, shaking his hair out.

“You know I could just chop off a giant chunk of hair, you’re putting a lot of faith in me right now.” You giggle, jokingly holding the scissors higher than you intend to cut.

“Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing, Morgan called be Jesus the other day.” He sighs.

“How about I take you to a barber after this, I don’t want you to end up bald if I make the wrong move.” You joke.

“It’s a deal.” He nods, smiling at you once more.

You choose a piece behind his ear, tying it off with the ribbon before snipping off an inch. You hold it for a second, feeling the soft locks against your palm.

It’s quiet as Spencer observes you. He’s never seen you so sentimental before, but he’s surprisingly comfortable with it. You’re unlike anyone he’s ever known, so strong willed yet full of boundless love for those who are important to you.

You place the lock inside the locket around your neck, rubbing the cold metal between your fingertips for a moment.

You look up at Spencer before leaning in to gently kiss him on the cheek.

“Thank you.” You sigh.

“Of course angel.” He responds, turning your face to give you a proper kiss.

After a moment you smile against his lips, pulling away to pull him off the couch.

“Time for a haircut, Jesus. Oops, I mean genius.” You laugh, headed towards the door.

“Not too short though, I like when you run your fingers through it.” He smirks, making you blush.

You can’t help but hope you’ll get to grow old and grey with him and have the privilege to look back on this day in the future and know you’ll always hold a piece of Spencer Reid with you forever.

——

“Pretty strands that grew in your youth, pieces that I’ll always hold on to.”

——

Taglist: DM me or send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my taglist :)

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #mine #my writing #matthew gray gubler #mgg #nicole dollanganger #hair lockets #jesus reid

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