Llama Queen

I love Harry Potter, and Black Butler, AOT, OHHC, Supernatural and a lot more. Level 21

[spacejjunk]

youre better off with me

pairing: bbf! eddie x reader

w/c: 9.9k+

summary: you had long accepted that eddie was just a part of your family now. your parents loved him. your brother loved him. you pretended you didnt love him.

warnings/tags: dead dove ish?, dubcon, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, outdoor sex, jealous possessive! eddie, drunk sex, dirty talk, spanking, claiming, brat tamer! eddie, reader is 21 eddies like 28ish

masterlist // join the taglist

The van smelled like old weed, motor oil, and the faint ghost of every summer you’d ever spent in it.

Eddie slammed the back doors shut with a metallic thunk that echoed across the driveway, then turned to look at you over the roof, one eyebrow already arched like he was preparing for combat.

“You bring the good snacks or the sad ones?” he asked.

You hiked the strap of your duffel higher on your shoulder. “I brought what I always bring. You’re the one who always steals them.”

“I don’t steal. I redistribute. Big difference.” He pointed a long finger at you. “And if those are the weird sour-cream-and-onion pretzels again, I’m leaving you on the side of the highway.”

“You threaten that every year.”

“And one day I’ll mean it.”

"Fuck off Munson."

"Make me."

Your older brother just laughed from the passenger seat, already half-reclined with his boots on the dash like the years hadn’t changed a damn thing. The three of you had done this dance since you were kids—your parents driving the family car, Eddie’s van trailing behind loaded with tents and coolers and that ridiculous boombox he refused to retire. Your brother and Eddie had moved out to Chicago last year and missed the trip. This year the parents had finally waved the white flag. We’re too old for this, they’d said. You three can keep the tradition if you want.

So here you were.

Four hours of highway, two gas-station pit stops, and one argument about whether Dio or Iron Maiden was the superior soundtrack later, the van rattled off the paved road onto the familiar dirt track that led into the state park. The trees closed in overhead, filtering the late-afternoon light into green-gold shafts. You felt the same low thrum in your chest you’d always felt when the campground came into view—half nostalgia, half something sharper that had only started humming under your skin three years ago.

Eddie killed the engine. Silence rushed in, broken only by the tick of cooling metal and the distant cry of a hawk.

He twisted in the driver’s seat to look at you in the back. His hair was longer than last summer, curls escaping the bandana he’d tied around his head. A thin silver chain glinted at his throat. He still looked like trouble. He still looked like the boy who’d once dared you to eat a raw cricket and then laughed until he cried when you actually did it.

“Home sweet temporary home,” he said, voice low. “You gonna help set up or are you gonna stand there looking at me like I owe you money?”

You shoved the side door open harder than necessary. “You do owe me money, idiot.”

“Oh don't worry. I'll pay you back— with interest.”

Your brother was already out and stretching, cracking his back with a groan. “You two are exhausting. I’m grabbing the cooler before one of you starts the inevitable screaming match.”

Eddie hopped out after him, landing lightly despite the height. He caught your eye across the open doors as you both reached for the same folded tarp. His fingers brushed yours. Neither of you pulled away immediately.

The air between you felt charged the way it always did now—like static before a storm, like the second before someone said something they couldn’t take back. You’d spent years pretending the dislike was pure. It was easier that way. Easier than admitting that every time he smirked at you or called you by that stupid nickname he’d invented when you were fourteen, something low and hot twisted in your stomach.

Eddie tilted his head, studying you the way he studied guitar tabs—slow, deliberate, like he was memorizing something he already knew by heart.

“You're quieter,” he said.

“You're louder.”

“Fair.” He tugged the tarp free and slung it over one shoulder. “C’mon. Sun’s gonna drop soon. Last thing I need is you bitching at me in the dark because we can’t find the tent poles.”

You followed him into the clearing you’d claimed for years, boots crunching over pine needles. Your brother was already staking out the flatter ground near the fire ring, whistling off-key. Eddie dropped the tarp and started unfolding the bigger tent with the easy efficiency of someone who’d done this a hundred times. You worked opposite him, feeding poles through sleeves, the familiar rhythm settling between you even as the unfamiliar tension hummed underneath.

Every so often your hands would meet again—passing a stake, smoothing a corner of fabric—and you’d both pause for half a second too long before pretending it hadn’t happened.

The sky was turning the color of bruised peaches by the time the tents were up and the cooler was cracked open. Your brother claimed the smaller tent without argument, already disappearing inside with a book and a beer. That left the bigger one for you and Eddie. Funny how life works out.

Eddie stood at the open flap, looking in at the two sleeping bags rolled side by side, then glanced over his shoulder at you. The fading light caught on the rings stacked on his fingers.

“You still snore?” he asked.

“You still talk in your sleep?”

A slow, crooked grin spread across his face. “Guess we’ll find out.”

He ducked inside without waiting for an answer, and the undercurrent between you pulsed once—hot, quiet, and very much awake.

The tent was dark and warm, the kind of close heat that only came from two bodies breathing the same recycled air. You’d fallen asleep facing the wall, sleeping bag zipped to your chin, determined to ignore the fact that Eddie was only a few feet away on the other side of the nylon floor.

Sometime past midnight you woke to the soft, rough sound of his voice.

Low. Thick with sleep. Your name. Almost a whisper.

“…not supposed to look at you like that… fuck… you're… goddamn…”

Your eyes snapped open. The words dissolved into an unintelligible mumble, then silence. You held perfectly still, heart thudding against your ribs, waiting to see if he’d say anything else. He didn’t. Just a quiet shift of fabric as he rolled over.

You stared at the dark ceiling for a long time after that, pulse still elevated, before forcing your eyes shut again and pretending you hadn’t heard a thing.

Morning came too bright and too early.

Your brother was already up and making noise outside, clattering the little propane stove. Eddie emerged from the tent looking like he’d lost a fight with his own hair, bandana shoved in his back pocket, last night’s black T-shirt wrinkled and riding up just enough to flash a strip of pale stomach when he stretched. He caught you looking and immediately smirked.

“Morning, princess. Sleep okay or did the spooky forest keep you up?”

You shoved past him toward the cooler. “Your talking kept me up.”

“I— I was talking last night?” Eddie looked like he'd seen a ghost— the color draining from his already pale face.

"Mhm. Big talk last night Munson."

"Unconscious me is not the same person as conscious me."

"Keep telling yourself that."

Your brother popped out of his tent looking just as rough as Eddie. "What'd he say this time?"

"This time?"

"Nothing. Fuck you guys— let's go do something."

The day unfolded the way these days always did with the three of you—sunlight, river, the easy rhythm of people who’d known each other too long. Kayaking came first. The three of you dragged the rented boats down to the water, your brother claiming the single and leaving you and Eddie to share the double. Of course.

Eddie took the back seat without asking, which meant he controlled the rudder and got the better view of everything in front of him. Including you.

“Try not to tip us,” he called as you pushed off. “I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”

“Your reputation is already trash.”

“Rude. Chicago doesn't know my Hawkins reputation so… I'm like recycled trash now.”

"They should be warned."

The river was slow and glassy, edged with overhanging branches that scraped soft green fingers across the surface. You paddled in sync more out of muscle memory than cooperation, the kayak cutting clean lines through the current. Every so often Eddie would dig his paddle in harder on one side just to make the boat rock, laughing under his breath when you twisted around to glare at him. Water droplets clung to the dark curls escaping his bandana. His arms flexed with every stroke, veins standing out along the insides of his forearms. You hated that you noticed.

At one point he leaned forward, voice dropping so your brother—paddling ahead—couldn’t hear.

“You still do that thing where you bite your lip when you’re concentrating?”

You didn’t answer. Just paddled harder.

His quiet chuckle followed you down the river.

Softball happened in the open field near the campground after lunch. Your brother and Eddie claimed folding chairs and a cooler full of cheap beer like it was their sacred duty, while you ended up on a pickup team with a bunch of other campers. Eddie watched the entire time with the lazy intensity of a cat watching a bird. Every time you connected with the ball he’d holler something deliberately embarrassing—“That’s my girl!” or “Show ‘em how it’s done!”—loud enough that half the field turned to look. Your brother just shook his head and kept drinking.

By the time the game wrapped, the sun was sliding toward the treeline and the air had that golden, late-summer weight to it. People were already drifting toward the rec center at the far end of the campground. Strings of lights were being tested. A DJ was doing sound check.

You wiped sweat from your forehead with the hem of your shirt and found Eddie watching you again, beer bottle dangling from loose fingers.

“You gonna clean up for the dance or just show up looking like you lost a fight with a river?” he asked.

“You planning on actually dancing or just leaning against a post looking pretentious all night?”

He tipped the bottle toward you in a mock toast. “Depends. You planning on asking me?”

The words landed heavier than the teasing tone suggested. For a second neither of you looked away. The undercurrent that had been humming all day—ever since you’d woken up to the sound of your name in his sleeping mouth—tightened into something almost tangible.

Your brother clapped Eddie on the shoulder hard enough to make him sway. “If you two are done with the foreplay, I’m starving. Rec center’s got those shitty hot dogs and I want at least four before the music starts.”

Eddie finally broke the stare, flashing that crooked, dangerous grin.

“Yeah,” he said, eyes still half on you. “Wouldn’t want to miss the main event.”

The three of you headed back toward the tents to change as the first real notes of music drifted through the trees. The night was just getting started.

You changed in the tent with the flap zipped tight, the skimpy little dress clinging to your skin the second you pulled it over the bathing suit. The material was thin and soft, the kind that moved when you did, neckline low enough to make the heat feel intentional. Practical, you told yourself. If the night went the way these nights sometimes did—too many drinks, someone daring someone else—you could strip the dress and hit the water without a second thought. You’d done it before.

When you stepped out, the campground lights were already glowing through the trees.

Eddie was leaning against the side of the van with a fresh beer, one boot kicked up behind him. He took a long drink, eyes tracking you from the moment the tent flap opened. He didn’t even try to hide it. The look dragged slow—over the bare stretch of your thighs, the way the dress sat on your hips, the line of your collarbones—before he finally dragged his gaze up to your face and smirked like he’d caught you doing something illegal.

“Jesus Christ,” he said, voice low. “You trying to start a riot or just ruin my night?”

Your brother snorted from where he was tying his shoes on the picnic table. “She always looks like that. You’re just dramatic.”

Eddie didn’t look away from you. “I’m observant. There’s a difference.” He pushed off the van and circled you once, slow, like he was inspecting merchandise. "You’re gonna make the soccer moms clutch their pearls.”

“You’re one to talk,” you shot back, adjusting the thin strap on your shoulder. “You look like you got dressed in a thrift store during a blackout.”

He grinned, all teeth. “And yet here you are, still looking.”

Your brother stood, clapping his hands together like the world’s most oblivious referee. “Alright, children. Rec center. Hot dogs. Bad music. Try not to kill each other before we get there.” He was already walking, completely missing the way Eddie’s eyes kept dropping to your mouth, your legs, the place where the dress ended.

The three of you cut through the trees toward the glow of the gazebo. Strings of bulb lights crisscrossed overhead, casting everything in warm gold. A DJ booth had been set up under the roof, speakers already thumping something upbeat and slightly too loud. Picnic tables had been pushed aside to make a dance floor, and the bar was stocked with drinks. The smell of grilled hotdogs and firewood permeated the air.

Eddie kept pace beside you, still talking.

“I’m just saying, if you trip in those shoes I’m not carrying you. I’ll point and laugh. Publicly.”

“You’ve carried me before.”

“That was different. You were twelve and had a scraped knee. Now you’re—” He gestured vaguely at all of you, words failing him for half a second. “Anyway. Don’t expect chivalry.”

Your brother laughed, already peeling off toward the bar. “He’s so full of shit. He once carried a drunk girl two miles because she lost a shoe. Remember that, Eds?”

“I remember you never shutting up about it,” Eddie muttered, but his eyes were still on you.

You reached the bar first. Ordered something with a fancy fruity name, and took a long swallow. The burn settled low in your stomach. Perfect.

Eddie opened his mouth—probably to say something else annoying, something that would sound like an insult and land like a touch—but you were already turning away.

“I’m dancing,” you said over your shoulder. “Try not to miss me too hard.”

You didn’t wait for an answer. Just slipped into the growing crowd under the lights, drink in hand, the skimpy dress brushing against your thighs with every step. Behind you, you could feel the weight of his stare like a hand on the back of your neck.

Your brother was already laughing about something. Eddie wasn’t saying a word.

You danced alone at first, letting the music pull you under the string lights. The beat was heavy enough to feel in your ribs, the kind of song that made hips move without permission. Your drink was already half gone. The skimpy dress clung and shifted with every turn, the bathing suit underneath a thin secret against your skin. People watched. You didn’t care.

Then a pair of hands settled lightly at your waist.

You glanced back. Tall. Broad shoulders. Easy smile. Dark hair falling into his eyes. Attractive in that clean, summer-camp way—nothing like the chaos you were used to. He didn’t ask. Just matched your rhythm, body slotting in behind yours like he’d been waiting for the invitation.

You let him.

It started casual. Then it wasn’t.

His hands slid lower, fingers spreading over your hips, guiding you back against him. You rolled with it, spine arching, the thin fabric of the dress the only thing between his chest and your back. The music thumped louder. Someone whooped nearby. His breath brushed the shell of your ear when he leaned in, and you tipped your head just enough to give him more space. Your bodies moved together—slow, dirty, deliberate. Thighs brushing. Ass grinding back against the hard line of him. Every shift of your hips made the hem of the dress ride a little higher.

Across the open floor, past the shifting bodies and the glow of the lights, Eddie stood frozen near the bar.

Your brother was already three drinks past functional, leaning heavily against the table and laughing at nothing, plastic cup waving in the air as he tried to tell a story to some poor stranger who kept nodding politely. He hadn’t even noticed you yet.

Eddie had.

His jaw was locked so tight the muscle jumped under the skin. One hand crushed the neck of his beer bottle; the other was shoved deep in the pocket of his jeans like he needed to keep it contained. He watched the stranger’s hands on your waist, watched the way you moved against him, watched the flush climbing your throat. His eyes were dark, almost black under the string lights, and the easy, mocking expression he usually wore had been scraped clean off his face.

He looked like he wanted to put his fist through something. Or someone.

You caught the stare over the random guy’s shoulder and held it for a second too long—just long enough to see the pure, boiling jealousy flash across Eddie’s features before you turned back into the dance. The stranger’s hand slid higher under the side of your dress, fingertips grazing the edge of your bathing suit bottoms, and you didn’t stop him.

Eddie’s bottle hit the bar top hard enough that your brother finally glanced over, still grinning drunk and clueless.

“Dude, you good?”

Eddie didn’t answer. He just kept staring at you like he was two seconds from crossing the floor and starting a fight.

Your brother swayed hard enough that he had to plant a hand on the nearest picnic table to stay upright.

“I’m done,” he announced, voice thick and cheerful. “Gonna pass out before I embarrass myself more. You two… don’t kill each other.” He pointed vaguely between you and Eddie, already turning toward the path that led back to the tents. “Love you, mean it, goodnight.”

Eddie moved before you could answer.

His hand locked around your upper arm—hard, fingers digging in just shy of bruising—and he yanked you away from the stranger mid-song. The guy made a confused noise, but Eddie didn’t even glance at him. He was already hauling you across the grass after your brother, jaw tight, boots loud against the packed dirt.

“Let go—”

“Shut up and walk,” he bit out.

You twisted in his grip. “Eddie—”

“Your brother’s hammered. We’re making sure he doesn’t face-plant in a ditch. Move.”

The walk back was silent except for your brother’s off-key humming and the occasional stumble that made Eddie’s grip on you tighten even more. By the time the tents came into view, your arm was throbbing under his fingers. Your brother crawled into the smaller tent without protest, mumbled something about breakfast, and was snoring within minutes.

The second the zipper closed, Eddie’s hand slid from your arm to your wrist. He didn’t let go. Instead he turned and started walking—fast, purposeful—toward the river path instead of the tent you were supposed to share.

“Where the hell are you—”

“Quiet.”

You dug your heels in. “Eddie, what the fuck is your problem?”

He spun on you so fast you nearly collided with his chest. Up close his eyes were wild, the jealousy still burning hot behind them. “My problem? My problem is watching some random asshole put his hands all over you like he had the right. My problem is you letting him.”

“I can dance with whoever I want—”

“Get in the kayak.”

You blinked. He’d already dragged one of the rental doubles halfway into the water, the plastic hull scraping against the pebbles. The river stretched black and quiet under the moonlight, the current lapping against the bank.

“Are you insane? It’s the middle of the night—”

“Get. In.”

You should have said no. You should have turned around, walked back to the tent, zipped yourself in and pretended none of this was happening. But the anger rolling off him was magnetic, thick enough to taste, and the curiosity that had been coiling low in your stomach all day flared hot. You’d never been good at smart decisions where Eddie Munson was concerned.

You stepped into the kayak.

He pushed off hard, climbing in behind you in one smooth motion, paddle already in his hands. The boat rocked once, then settled as the current caught it. Trees closed in on either side, blocking out the last of the campground lights. The only sound left was the soft dip of the paddle and Eddie’s heavy breathing at your back.

He didn’t speak again until the music and the lights were far behind you.

When he finally did, his voice was low and rough and right against your ear.

“You and me are gonna have a conversation. And you’re not getting out of this boat until I say so.”

The paddle cut through the black water in hard, angry strokes. You could feel every one of them in the way the kayak jerked forward.

“You’re being a fucking child,” you snapped over your shoulder, arms crossed tight under your chest. The dress stuck to your skin in the humid night air. “Dragging me out here like some jealous boyfriend when you’re not even—”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” Eddie’s voice was low and sharp. “You don’t get to decide what I am right now.”

“Oh my God.” You twisted further, nearly tipping the boat. “You don’t get to manhandle me in front of half the campground because some guy danced with me. I can do whatever I want.”

“You were grinding on him.”

“So?”

“So I wanted to break his fucking hands.”

The words hung there, raw and honest. You faced forward again, jaw clenched, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction even as something hot twisted low in your stomach. The river narrowed. Trees leaned in closer on both sides, their branches forming a dark tunnel overhead. The current slowed. Up ahead the water opened into a small, secluded pool half-hidden by a curve of rock and thick underbrush—a private little grotto the three of you had found years ago and somehow never told anyone else about.

Eddie drove the kayak onto the muddy bank hard enough that the hull scraped loud in the quiet. He was out first, boots splashing, then turning to offer a hand you deliberately ignored. You climbed out on your own, nearly slipping, and stalked over to the old fallen log that had served as a bench for years. The wood was cool and damp under your thighs when you sat, arms still crossed, staring hard at the dark water instead of him.

Eddie dragged the kayak further up so it wouldn’t float away, then planted himself directly in front of you. Close. Blocking the moonlight.

“Look at me.”

You didn’t.

“I said look at me.”

You tipped your head back just enough to give him the most unimpressed stare you could manage. “What, Eddie? You dragged me all the way out here to lecture me about dancing? Congratulations. Message received. Can we go back now?”

His hands flexed at his sides. “You’re being a fucking brat.”

“And you’re being a controlling asshole. We’re even.”

He let out a short, disbelieving laugh that had zero humor in it. “You let him put his hands under your dress.”

“Barely.”

“I watched him.”

“Then maybe you should’ve danced with me instead of standing there looking at me like you had some moronic invisible claim over me.”

That landed. His eyes flashed. He took one step closer so his boots nearly touched yours, looming over where you sat on the log. The air between you felt thick, charged, like the second before lightning.

“You want me to dance with you?” he asked, voice dropping into something quieter and more dangerous. “That what this is about?”

You rolled your eyes and looked away again, pure brat, even as your pulse hammered in your throat. “I want you to stop acting like you own me when you don’t. That’s what this is about.”

Eddie exhaled hard through his nose. He didn’t move back. If anything he leaned in another inch, the scent of beer and sweat and the metal of his jewelry filling the small space between you.

“Keep pushing, sweetheart,” he murmured. “See what happens.”

You stood up from the log like he hadn’t just threatened you, like the air between you wasn’t thick enough to choke on.

“I’m swimming back,” you said flatly, already reaching for the hem of the dress. “You can sit here and be pissed by yourself.”

The thin fabric peeled up and over your head in one motion. You balled it up and tossed it into the kayak without looking, left standing in nothing but the little bikini you’d worn underneath. The night air kissed every newly bare inch of skin. You took one step toward the water.

Eddie moved faster.

“No the fuck you’re not.”

His hand shot out and caught you by the upper arm again—harder this time, fingers digging in as he yanked you back against him. The motion was rough, careless with anger, and his studded bracelet snagged the loose string at the back of your neck. The bow came undone with a soft, final slip. The triangle cups of the top fell forward instantly, baring your tits to the cool air and to him.

Everything stopped.

Eddie’s breath left him in a punched-out sound. His eyes dropped and stayed there, locked on the soft weight of your breasts, the tight peaks of your nipples already tightening under the sudden exposure and the heat of his stare. For one suspended second he just looked—hungry, furious, wrecked—before the last of his restraint snapped clean in half.

He hauled you fully against him and crushed his mouth to yours.

The kiss was all teeth and heat and years of denial. His tongue shoved past your lips like he was trying to punish you with it, one hand fisting in your hair to tilt your head exactly where he wanted while the other arm banded tight around your waist, pinning your bare chest to the front of his shirt. You could feel the metal of his rings cold against your spine, the hard line of his cock already pressing against your stomach through his jeans. He kissed like he hated how much he wanted it—deep, messy, wet—nipping at your bottom lip hard enough to sting before sucking it into his mouth.

“Fucking knew it,” he growled against your lips between kisses, voice wrecked. “Knew you’d taste like this. Knew you’d be this soft. Goddamn tease—”

His hand left your hair only long enough to shove the ruined bikini top the rest of the way off your arms, then he was back, palm dragging up your side to cup one bare breast, thumb scraping roughly over the nipple. The sound he made when you arched into the touch was pure filth, low and broken.

He walked you backward until your calves hit the log again, never breaking the kiss, never letting more than an inch of space exist between your bodies. When he finally tore his mouth away it was only to drag it down your jaw, teeth scraping the sensitive skin beneath your ear as he spoke right against it.

“You let that asshole put his hands on what’s been driving me crazy for three fucking years. You’re lucky I didn’t bend you over the bar right there.” His fingers pinched your nipple, sharp enough to make you gasp. “Still might bend you over. Keep being a brat and find out.”

You shoved at his chest even as your back hit the log again, still trying to keep the upper hand.

“Get off me—”

Eddie only laughed, low and mean, and used the grip he already had on you to force you down. One hard push at your shoulders and your knees hit the damp earth with a soft thud. He stepped in close, boots bracketing your thighs, and the sound of his belt buckle coming undone was obscenely loud in the quiet grotto. Zipper next. Then he shoved his jeans and boxers just low enough to free his cock.

It was already hard, thick, the head flushed dark and shining at the tip. He wrapped one hand around the base and tapped the heavy weight of it against your cheek, smearing a streak of precum across your skin.

“Open.”

You tipped your chin up and gave him the most venomous look you could manage from your knees. “I swear to God if you shove that in my mouth I’m biting it off.”

Eddie’s eyes flashed. His free hand tangled in your hair and yanked your head back just enough to make your scalp sting. “Do it. See what happens when you try.”

He didn’t wait for another threat. The blunt head of his cock dragged across your lips once, twice, then he pushed forward. You opened on a sharp inhale—half protest, half something hungier—and he slid over your tongue in one long, relentless stroke until the head bumped the back of your throat.

“Fuck—there it is,” he groaned, both hands now fisted in your hair. “Knew that smart mouth would feel perfect wrapped around me.”

He didn’t ease in. He fucked your throat like he’d been thinking about it for years—short, punishing thrusts that made wet, filthy sounds every time he bottomed out. Spit slicked down your chin. Your eyes watered. Every time you tried to pull back even an inch he held you tighter and pushed deeper, hips rolling with zero patience.

“Look at you,” he panted, staring down with dark, glassy eyes. “On your knees in the dirt for me after all that attitude. Letting some random fucker put his hands on you and now you’re choking on my cock like a good little slut. That what you needed? Someone to shut you up properly?”

You glared up at him through wet lashes, still trying to be defiant even with your lips stretched wide around him. The threat of your teeth was still there; he felt it, and it only made him groan louder and thrust harder.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he warned, voice rough. “You bite me and I’ll bend you over that log and spank your ass red before I fuck you. Try me. Please. I’ve been dying to.”

His hips snapped forward again, burying every inch. The wet heat of your mouth, the way your throat fluttered around him, the bratty fire still burning in your eyes—it all pulled a broken, filthy stream of words out of him as he used your mouth without mercy.

“God, you’re soaking the front of those little bottoms already, aren’t you? I can smell how wet you are from here. Fucking hate how bad I want you. Hate that I’ve jerked off thinking about this exact view for three goddamn years. Take it. Take every inch like the mouthy little bitch you are.”

Eddie’s rhythm turned short and brutal, hips snapping forward with no more pretense of control. His fingers tightened hard in your hair as the first pulse of his orgasm hit, thick and hot, flooding your tongue and the back of your throat.

“Fuck—swallow it—take it—”

You didn’t.

The second he started to pull back you dragged your teeth along the sensitive underside of his cock—not hard enough to break skin, but sharp enough to make him hiss and jerk. Then you shoved him the rest of the way out with your tongue and spit.

Everything he’d just pumped into your mouth landed wet and messy across the front of his jeans and the base of his still-twitching cock. A long, shiny strand connected your bottom lip to him for a second before it broke. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and looked up at him, eyes pure challenge.

“Oops.”

The sound Eddie made was almost a snarl.

He hauled you up by the hair and the arm so fast your knees left the ground. In two strides he was sitting on the log and you were face-down across his lap, the rough denim of his jeans scraping your bare stomach and the soft insides of your thighs. One of his hands pinned both of your wrists at the small of your back; the other yanked the soaking bikini bottoms down to mid-thigh, baring your ass completely to the night air.

“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” His voice was low, shaking with leftover pleasure and fresh fury. “Had to push. Had to spit my come all over me like a spoiled little brat who wants to get punished.”

The first slap cracked across your right cheek hard enough to make the sound echo off the water. The sting bloomed hot and immediate. You jerked, but his grip on your wrists only tightened.

“Count.”

You stayed silent on pure principle.

The second slap landed harder, lower, catching the sensitive crease where ass met thigh. Your breath punched out of you.

“I said count, sweetheart.”

“One,” you forced out through gritted teeth, still trying to sound defiant even as heat flooded between your legs.

“Good girl.” Another sharp crack. “That’s two. You’re gonna feel every single one of these when I finally fuck you. Going to remind you what happens when you act like you don’t belong to me.”

His palm came down again and again—steady, deliberate, spreading the burn across both cheeks until the skin felt swollen and throbbing. Between strikes he dragged his fingers through the mess of slick already coating your inner thighs, collecting it and smearing it higher, teasing your entrance without giving you anything.

“Look at this,” he muttered, almost to himself. “Dripping down my leg already. You did this on purpose. Wanted me to lose it. Wanted me to bend you over and make it hurt.”

Another slap, harder than the ones before. You couldn’t stop the broken sound that left your throat.

Eddie leaned down, lips brushing the shell of your ear while his hand soothed roughly over the hot, stinging skin he’d just punished.

“We’re not even close to done. You’re going to take everything I give you tonight. And you’re going to say thank you when I’m finished. You're mine now. Thought I didn't notice your little crush on me? Made it fuckin' obvious you brat.”

You twisted against the iron grip he still had on your wrists, cheek pressed to the rough bark of the log, ass burning. The words came out sharp and breathless.

“I don’t belong to you.”

Eddie’s hand stilled for half a second on the hot skin of your cheek.

“You’re just my brother’s annoying best friend. That’s all you’ve ever been. Some loud, chaotic asshole who made fun of me for years. Why the fuck do you think you get to act like you have some claim?”

He didn’t answer with words at first.

Two fingers slid between your thighs from behind, parting the slick folds of your pussy with zero warning. You were soaked—embarrassingly, shamelessly wet—and the sound his fingers made dragging through it was filthy in the quiet. He stroked slow, deliberate, gathering your wetness and spreading it up to circle your clit without ever giving you real pressure.

“You want to know why?” His voice was low, almost conversational, even as his fingers kept teasing—gliding, pressing, never quite pushing inside. “Because I’ve watched you grow up into the exact kind of trouble I can’t stay away from. Because every time I saw you, you got louder and meaner and hotter and I had to sit there pretending I didn’t want to bend you over the nearest flat surface.”

He finally pushed one finger into you, just to the first knuckle, then pulled it back out to smear more slick over your clit. Your hips jerked despite yourself.

“Because three years ago you turned eighteen and started looking at me like you wanted me to ruin you, and I started jerking off to the idea of it every single night. Because I hate how bad I want you. Hate that some random guy got to put his hands on you tonight while I stood there hard and furious. Hate that you’re still trying to pretend this—” he pushed two fingers into you in one smooth stroke, curling them just right, “—isn’t already mine.”

He fucked the fingers into you slow and deep while he talked, the wet sounds loud between every sentence. His thumb stayed on your clit, rubbing tight, mean circles that made your thighs shake.

“You’re my best friend’s little sister. You’re a fucking brat. You’re the last person I should want. And I still can’t stop. So yeah—I think I get to claim you. Because the second you opened that smart mouth for my cock you stopped being just his sister. You became mine to punish. Mine to tease. Mine to fuck until you stop lying about how much you want it.”

He scissored his fingers inside you, stretching, then curled them hard against that spot that made your whole body jolt.

“Keep telling yourself I’m just the annoying best friend. I’ll keep proving you wrong with every dripping inch of this pussy.”

“Fuck you.”

The words came out rough and breathless, half muffled against the bark.

Eddie laughed—low, dark, delighted.

“Already planning on it, sweetheart. Thanks for the invitation.”

He hauled you up off his lap like you weighed nothing. One second you were face-down across his thighs; the next he had you bent over the log proper, chest and cheek pressed to the cool wood, ass in the air, bikini bottoms still tangled around one thigh. He kicked your feet wider with his boot, shoved his jeans lower, and notched the thick head of his cock against your soaked entrance.

No more teasing.

He slammed in to the hilt in one brutal thrust.

The stretch burned—perfect, overwhelming—and the sound that tore out of you was pure punched-out need. Eddie groaned like he’d been stabbed, hands clamping hard on your hips hard enough to bruise.

“Jesus—fuck— so goddamn tight.” He pulled almost all the way out and drove back in harder. “This what you needed? My cock splitting you open after you spent all night acting like you didn’t want it?”

He set a relentless pace immediately, hips snapping forward with wet, filthy slaps that echoed off the water. Every thrust shoved you further up the log; every retreat left you clenching around nothing for half a second before he filled you again. His rings dug into the soft flesh of your hips. The metal of his belt buckle slapped against the back of your thigh with every stroke.

“Look at you taking it,” he snarled, one hand sliding up your spine to fist in your hair and yank your head back. “Bent over a log in the middle of nowhere, dripping down your thighs for your brother’s best friend. You hate me so fucking much, don’t you? Hate that I’m the one who gets to wreck this pussy.”

He changed the angle, folding over your back so his mouth was right at your ear, breath hot and ragged while he kept pounding into you.

“Feel how deep I am? That’s three years of wanting to shut you up just like this. Three years of watching you strut around in those little outfits, mouthing off, pretending the tension wasn’t eating us both alive. Now you’re stuffed full of me and still trying to act tough. Doesn’t work when you’re this wet, baby. Doesn’t work when your cunt keeps sucking me back in like it never wants me to leave.”

His free hand snaked around your hip and found your clit, rubbing tight, mean circles in time with his thrusts. The dual sensation made your knees buckle; only the log and his grip kept you upright.

“That’s it—take it. Take every fucking inch. Gonna fill this bratty little pussy up so full you feel me dripping out of you the whole ride back. Gonna make sure every time you sit down tomorrow you remember exactly who you belong to when you stop lying.”

He fucked you harder, faster, the wet sounds of your body taking him almost obscene. His voice never stopped—filthy, continuous, pouring into your ear while he used you like he’d been dying to for years.

“Fucking perfect. Fucking mine. Say it or don’t, I don’t care—your cunt already did.”

“I’m not—fuck—I’m not yours,” you managed between broken breaths, the words barely coherent with every brutal thrust still punching them out of you.

Eddie snarled and brought his open palm down hard across your already stinging ass.

“Say it.”

Another sharp slap. Then another. The wet sound of his hand meeting your skin mixed with the filthy slap of his hips.

“Say you’re mine.”

“No—”

He spanked you again, harder, the burn blooming white-hot just as he drove particularly deep. Your whole body clenched around him and he felt it—felt how close you were, how your cunt was starting to flutter and seize.

He pulled out completely.

The sudden emptiness made you cry out in pure frustrated rage, hips pushing back chasing him, empty and throbbing.

“What the fuck—”

“You don’t get to come yet.” Eddie’s voice was wrecked but steady, almost cruel with control. He stepped back just far enough to sit on the log, jeans still shoved down his thighs, cock slick and shining with your wetness, standing hard against his stomach. He looked at you like he had all the time in the world. “Not until I say. Not until I’m looking at your face while you fall apart on me.”

He patted his thigh once.

“Get over here and sit on it.”

You stayed where you were for a defiant second, chest heaving, ass burning, pussy aching and neglected. The refusal was still on your tongue.

Eddie raised an eyebrow, completely unimpressed by the brat act now.

“I wasn’t asking. Climb on my cock and ride it until you come. I want to watch every second of it. Want to see exactly what you look like when you finally stop pretending you hate this.”

He wrapped a hand around the base of himself and stroked once, slow, showing you how wet you’d left him.

“Now, sweetheart. Before I change my mind and leave you empty for the rest of the night.”

You glared at him for one more stubborn second, then gave in.

Climbing into his lap felt like surrender and you hated how much your body wanted it. You straddled his thighs, one hand on his shoulder for balance, and reached between you to line him up. The second the thick head of his cock nudged your entrance you sank down in one long, shaky slide until he was buried to the hilt again.

Eddie’s head tipped back on a deep, satisfied groan.

“There she is,” he murmured, hands settling on your waist like they’d always belonged there. “Knew you’d give in. Look at you—sitting on my cock like you were made for it after all that ‘I’m not yours’ bullshit.”

He didn’t give you time to adjust or to sass him. His boots dug into the dirt for leverage and he thrust up hard, burying himself even deeper from this new angle. The shift dragged the head of his cock directly across that perfect spot inside you and white sparks exploded behind your eyes. A broken, helpless sound tore out of your throat.

Eddie grinned like the devil.

“Ohhh. There it is.” He did it again—short, powerful upward snaps of his hips that punched the air out of your lungs every time. “Found the spot that makes the brat shut up, huh? Look at your face. You’re fucking melting.”

He kept the pace merciless, hands gripping your hips to pull you down to meet every thrust so you took him to the base again and again. The new angle was devastating. Every upward drive rubbed relentlessly against the place that made your thighs shake and your thoughts scatter. You tried to stay upright, tried to keep some scrap of defiance, but he could feel every flutter and clench of your cunt and he used it against you without mercy.

“That’s it—ride it. Use me. You’re soaking my jeans, dripping down my balls, and still trying to look pissed. Adorable.” His voice was pure smug heat. “You’re putty. Completely fucking ruined for anyone else after this. Gonna feel empty every time something that isn’t my cock tries to fill you.”

One hand slid up your spine and fisted in your hair, forcing your back to arch so he could watch your tits bounce with every hard thrust. His eyes were dark and triumphant, locked on your face, drinking in every broken expression he dragged out of you.

“Go on. Keep glaring at me while your cunt milks my cock like it never wants me to stop. I can do this all night. Can keep you right here, full and shaking, until you finally admit what we both already know.”

He thrust up particularly deep and ground against that spot until your vision went white at the edges.

“You’re mine when you’re on my cock, sweetheart. And right now you’re exactly where you belong.”

Eddie never slowed.

He kept driving up into you with that same punishing rhythm, the thick drag of his cock hitting that devastating spot over and over until your thighs trembled on either side of his hips. One hand left your waist and shoved between your bodies, fingers finding your swollen clit immediately. He rubbed tight, relentless circles—no teasing, no mercy—while the other hand slid up your chest and wrapped around your throat.

Not gentle.

His fingers flexed, cutting off just enough air to make every thrust feel sharper, deeper, more overwhelming. The pressure at your neck, the relentless friction on your clit, the heavy stretch of him filling you again and again—it all crashed together into something white-hot and unbearable.

“That’s it,” he growled, eyes locked on your face as your mouth fell open. “Take it princess."

Your body seized.

The orgasm ripped through you so hard your vision blanked. You clenched around him like a fist and then you were squirting—hot, uncontrollable pulses of wetness that soaked his cock, his jeans, his thighs. The sound was filthy, wet, unmistakable. You shook through it, choking on the air he allowed you, cunt spasming wildly around every deep thrust he kept forcing into you.

Eddie laughed, low and utterly wrecked with triumph.

“Holy shit—look at you. Fucking squirting all over me. Knew this bratty little cunt would make a mess the second I choked you properly.” He fucked you straight through it, never letting up, dragging the climax out until you were sobbing for breath and still clenching around him in helpless aftershocks. “So pretty when you come. So fucking loud. Everyone downriver probably heard what I do to you.”

His hand stayed on your throat, the other still working your oversensitive clit in mean little circles that made you jerk and whimper. He was close—you could feel it in the way his thrusts turned short and brutal, in the way his cock swelled even thicker inside you.

“Gonna fill you up,” he panted against your mouth, forehead pressed to yours. “Gonna pump you so full of me you’ll feel it leaking down your legs the whole way back to camp. Marking what’s mine. Every time you move tomorrow you’ll remember exactly who owned this pussy tonight.”

He slammed up one final time and came with a broken, guttural sound, burying himself to the hilt as he pulsed deep inside you. Hot, thick ropes of come flooded your cunt, overflowing around his cock with every residual throb. He kept you pinned there, hand still loosely around your throat, hips grinding in slow circles like he was trying to push it even deeper.

“Fuck… yes. Take it. Every drop.” His voice was pure satisfied filth. “That’s my come inside you now. No one else’s. Just mine.”

He didn’t pull out. Just stayed buried, breathing hard, thumb stroking almost absently over the side of your neck where his fingers had pressed while he watched your face with dark, cocky satisfaction.

Your legs barely held you when you pushed off his lap.

The second you stood, everything between your thighs felt swollen and oversensitive and wet—his come already starting to slip out of you and trickle down the inside of one leg. Your knees wobbled hard. You took one unsteady step and nearly pitched forward into the dirt.

Eddie caught you by the waist before you could fall, hauling you back against his chest with an arm banded tight around your middle.

“Get off me—”

“You’re gonna face-plant, genius—”

“I said get off.” You shoved at his arm until he let go, then spun on him, still half-naked, hair a mess, lips swollen, the evidence of everything he’d just done to you streaked down your thighs. The anger hit all at once, sharp and shaky and too big for the quiet little grotto.

“If you liked me for that long—three fucking years—why did it have to be like this?” Your voice cracked on the last word and you hated it. “Why couldn’t you just be normal about it? Talk to me like a person instead of acting like a jealous asshole and dragging me out here to—to punish me? You didn’t have to be mean. You didn’t have to be so fucking—”

Eddie stayed seated on the log, jeans still open, watching you with that same dark, unreadable expression. He didn’t look sorry. If anything he looked like he was fighting a smirk.

“You liked it.”

The simple, cocky certainty in his voice made your face burn hotter than the spanking had.

“I—yeah, but—” You stammered, caught between the truth and the residual fury still sparking under your skin. “That’s not the point, you dickhead. You didn’t have to do it like that. You could’ve just… said something. Instead of losing your shit and treating me like some toy you finally got to break.”

Eddie leaned forward, elbows on his knees, still looking up at you with that infuriating half-smile. A bead of sweat tracked down his temple. His voice came out quieter, but no less certain.

“You’re right. I could’ve been normal. Could’ve asked you out like a gentleman and taken you to dinner and held your hand.” He tilted his head. “But that’s not what either of us wanted, is it? You didn’t melt for polite. You melted when I was mean. When I made you take it. When I refused to let you keep pretending there was nothing here.”

He stood slowly, towering over you again, and reached out to tuck a tangled strand of hair behind your ear with surprising gentleness.

“I was jealous. I was angry. And you came so hard you soaked me to the skin. So maybe stop yelling at me for giving you exactly what you’ve been begging for with every look and every smart-ass comment for three years.”

“Just take me back to camp.”

Eddie looked at you for a long second, then simply nodded.

You both dressed in silence—your dress pulled back on over the still-damp bikini, his jeans tugged up and zipped with a wince. The kayak rocked as you climbed in first, settling on the front seat without looking at him. He pushed off the bank and started paddling, the only sounds the soft drip of water from the blade and the distant chorus of frogs.

He didn’t speak.

Neither did you.

Halfway back the river widened again, the current slow and glassy under a sky packed with stars. The campground lights were still a distant glow around the next bend. Eddie lifted the paddle out of the water and let the kayak drift. The sudden quiet felt heavier than the arguing had.

You glanced over your shoulder. He was staring up at the sky, profile silvered by moonlight, curls messy from your hands. When he finally spoke his voice was quieter than you’d heard it all night.

“Were you really mad at me?”

The question sat between you, stripped of the earlier swagger and heat.

You turned back around, watching the dark water slide past. “Kinda.”

Eddie exhaled. The paddle rested across his thighs. For a while the only movement was the gentle rock of the boat.

“I tried being nice,” he said eventually. “More than once. You never looked at me twice.”

You stayed quiet, letting him talk.

“First time was the summer you turned eighteen. I asked if you wanted to come with me to the record store in town. You said you already had plans and walked off. Called me a jackass. Next year I tried again—offered you the aux cord on the drive up, told you to put on whatever you wanted. You handed it straight to your brother and put your headphones in.” His laugh was soft and self-deprecating. “Every summer I found some stupid little way to be less of an asshole around you. And every summer you treated me exactly the same. Annoying. Loud. Your brother’s best friend. Background noise.”

He dipped the paddle once to keep the boat from spinning, then let it rest again.

“So yeah. I stopped trying to be normal. Being mean at least made you look at me. Made you fight back. Made you feel something. Even if it was just wanting to punch me in the face.” The water lapped quietly against the hull. “Guess I figured if I couldn’t get you to like me the regular way, I’d take whatever version of your attention I could get.”

The stars above the treeline were absurdly bright. The night air smelled like wet earth and pine. Somewhere far behind you the rec center music still thumped faintly, a whole different world.

Eddie waited, paddle still, giving you the space to answer or not.

You stared at the dark water for a long time before the words finally came out.

“I’ve liked you forever.”

The admission felt huge in the quiet. Behind you, Eddie went completely still.

“I just… always thought you were only being nice because of my brother. Like it was some obligation. Keep the little sister from feeling left out so everything was easy. You were always around, always loud, always there, and every time you did something decent I told myself it didn’t mean anything. That you were just stuck with me.” You let out a short, disbelieving breath. “So I kept you at arm’s length on purpose. Acted like I couldn’t stand you so it wouldn’t hurt when I was right.”

The kayak drifted another few feet. A soft breeze moved through the trees on the bank.

Eddie set the paddle down across the hull with a quiet clatter.

“Jesus Christ.”

You risked a glance over your shoulder. He was staring at you like you’d just rewritten the last several years of his life in one sentence. The cocky mask was gone. What was left looked almost young.

“You’ve liked me,” he repeated, slow, testing the words. “This whole time.”

“Yeah.”

“And I thought you couldn’t stand me.”

“I wanted to not stand you.”

Eddie dragged both hands down his face and let out a laugh that was half groan. “We’re idiots.”

“Complete idiots,” you agreed.

“I spent years being an asshole on purpose because I thought it was the only way you’d notice me, and you spent the same years freezing me out because you thought I was only nice out of pity.” He shook his head, curls bouncing. “Do you understand how stupid that is? We could’ve been doing this—” he gestured vaguely between the two of you, at the kayak, the river, the lingering ache between your legs, “—years ago.”

You turned fully on the seat so you could face him. The boat rocked. Moonlight caught the silver of his rings and the still-flushed look on his face.

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “We really could’ve.”

Eddie held your gaze for a long moment. The anger and the heat from earlier were still there under the surface, but something softer sat on top of them now—wonder, maybe. Relief. A little bit of awe.

He picked the paddle back up, but he didn’t start rowing yet.

“For the record,” he said, voice low, “it was never because of your brother. Not once.”

The night felt different after that. Quieter. Fuller. The stars overhead seemed closer somehow, and the water carried you both forward without either of you needing to fill the silence right away.

The kayak scraped onto the shore near the campground docks. Eddie hopped out first and offered a hand; this time you took it. Your legs still felt a little unsteady, and the evidence of everything that had happened at the grotto was a secret, sticky reminder with every step.

The walk back through the trees started quiet, then cracked open into something lighter.

You bumped his shoulder with yours. “You’re still an asshole, for the record.”

“Yeah, but I’m your asshole now. Big promotion.”

You snorted. “Don’t push it.”

Eddie grinned sideways at you, the same crooked, troublemaking smile he’d worn for years, only now it landed differently. “I’m just saying. For someone who spent the whole night insisting she didn’t belong to me, you came awfully hard when I treated you like you did.”

“Shut up.”

“Made a mess all over me and everything. Very convincing ‘I hate you’ performance.”

You shoved him lightly in the ribs. He caught your wrist and didn’t let go, threading his fingers through yours like it was the most natural thing in the world. His rings were cool against your skin.

“I’m serious,” he said, voice dropping into that lower register again as the tents came into view. The smaller one was still zipped tight; your brother was clearly dead to the world. “We’re doing that again. Maybe not the dragging-you-into-the-woods part… or maybe exactly that part. Haven’t decided yet.”

You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t pull your hand away. “You’re impossible.”

“And you like it.” He lifted your joined hands and pressed a quick, smug kiss to your knuckles. “Don’t pretend you don’t.”

The campground was quiet except for the distant leftover music from the rec center and the soft rush of the river behind you. Somewhere in the big tent your sleeping bags still waited on opposite sides of the floor.

Eddie glanced at them, then back at you, eyes warm and wicked under the string lights.

“C’mon,” he said, tugging you forward. “We’ve got a whole tradition to keep ruining.”

You followed him into the dark, still holding his hand, the night air cool against your flushed skin and the future suddenly looking a lot less like an argument and a lot more like trouble you actually wanted.

taglist: @gem-writes @hamilhansen @5lutforeddie @beasbrain @julxsxx @shecleansup @jinxispunk @s1mp-4-ga11y @a-villain-vying-for-attention @sweetstatic

[gem-writes]

On-Screen Chemistry

Part Two of On-Screen Lover

Pairing: P*rnstar!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: 18+ Smut, SoftDom!Eddie, Oral Sex (f receiving), Female Ejaculation/Squirting, Brief Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk (Literal FILTH. You’ve been warned), Digital Penetration/Fingering, Clit Slapping, Multiple Orgasms, Face Riding (If you squint), Sexual/Suggestive Language, Profanity/Swearing. I think that’s it?

Credit: Dividers by @cafekitsune

A/N: This part picks up immediately after part one. Also, not proof-read. Will edit later.

I tired to remember everyone who asked to be tagged but there was a lot of people. If I didn’t tag you, pls lmk so that I can add you again. I could’ve possibly missed you.

Thank you so so so much for 1.6k. Enjoy part two 💕

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“That’s right, sweetheart. Fuck, you’re such a good girl. Keep rubbing it for me.”

You let Eddie’s raspy voice fill your ears as you rub your clit in slow circles, obeying his orders as he watches.

“That’s it, angel. Thaaaat’s it. You’re so fucking hot, you know that? Mmm…Yeah, I bet you do know that, don’t you? Of course you do, sweetheart. This tight fucking body. This pretty….fucking…pussy. And you’re rubbing it all for me. Fuck….”

You let out a whimper, it all becoming so heated while you watch the man that you have fantasized about for so long play with your boobs. Touching, squeezing, kneading them.

“Eddie…” You whine, watching him smirk down at you.

“Don’t worry, sweet thing.” He flirts “Just getting you warmed up. Getting this pussy nice and wet for me before I bury my face in it. Can’t wait to taste you, baby. Bet you taste fucking sweet, don’t you?”

You don’t know what it was that compelled you to but you nodded. You wanted him to be right. You wanted to be everything that he expected you to be- and more. You wanted to please him. You wanted him just as addicted to you as you were to him.

“Finger yourself.” He growls, staring at you before bringing his gaze down to your cunt that was growing wetter and sloppier by the second. His dirty encouragements turning you on more and more. “C’mon baby. I wanna see you stretch that tight little pussy out before I fucking eat it, sweetheart. Want you stuffed full while I watch you.”

You obey, looking into Eddie’s eyes as you ran your fingertips from your clit and down through your slick folds, collecting your wet arousal. You slowly insert two fingers into your soaking cunt, pushing them in as Eddie watches. Your breathing hitches as Eddie groans, roughly pinching your nipples between the pads of his forefingers and thumbs.

“Shit..” He hisses “Good girl. Go deeper for me, sweetheart. Show me how you like it.”

You felt like you were in a trance, watching him play with your tits as you obeyed his every word. You slide your fingers out before slowly reinserting them, pushing them in deep enough to reach your knuckles. You begin to curl the tips of your fingers, causing them to brush up against your sweet spot as you gasp.

“Oh my god…” You moan out.

“Mmm…yes.” Eddie replies, his eyes trained on your dripping cunt as he continues playing with your boobs. “Such a pretty fucking pussy. Love seeing you take those fingers nice and deep. Bet you’re thinking about my dick right now, aren’t you? About how much deeper that I could fuck it into you. How you’d drench my fucking cock. Yeah? S’that what’s going on in that head of yours, angel?”

You let out a whine, picking up the pace with your fingers as you fuck your needy hole for him. Anything for him.

“God, you’d get my dick so fucking messy, wouldn’t you, sweetheart? Just like you’re making this couch. Fuck, look at you. Soaking the fuck out of the cushions, baby” He tsks.

You look down, your face heating up in embarrassment as you realize that he was right. Your arousal was gushing so much around your fingers that it was dripping down your sex and onto the couch beneath you.

“Fuck, baby, don’t be embarrassed.” Eddie pleads, noticing how bashful you had become all of a sudden “I love it. God, I fucking love it. Get it all messy, baby. All for me. That gorgeous cunt. My god. Sloppy fucking girl…”

Your body can’t help but respond, arching your back as you fuck yourself faster, deeper, harder. You needed more. Your fingers weren’t quite enough.

“Fuck, baby. You gonna cum?” Eddie asks, feeling the way that your chest rose and fell in his hands as your breathing picked up. You nod helplessly as you keep going, still trying to reach that spot.

“‘I’m almost there.” You pant, staring at Eddie- and there was so much to stare at. His gorgeous face, his wild mane tied back in that low bun, his beautiful brown eyes, his lean body that was littered with dark tattoos, the happy trail that descended into his jeans. He was a fucking dream.

“Yeah? What can I do to get you there, angel?” He hums “Tell me what you need.”

“Need you to fill me up. I want…fuck…I want your fingers.” You pleads, eyes lust-blown and hungry.

“Yeah, sweet girl?” He coos “You want my fingers stretching you open? That what you want?”

“Yes.” You squeak “Please?”

“Okay, baby.” He smirks “Put your legs up. Let’s give them a fucking show.”

Eddie helps maneuver your legs into the position that he wanted, your feet up onto the couch with your legs spread open wide- giving the camera the perfect view of your sex.

“Fuck, look at her,” Eddie says, using his right hand to touch you- running his rough, calloused fingers along your heat “She’s fucking aching for me, isn’t she? You’ve got the prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen, baby. So goddamn gorgeous.”

His praise only serves to get you wetter. God, you were desperate. Any little thing that Eddie said had you wanting more. Wanting to hear him call you beautiful. Wanting to hear him tell you over and over again that your pussy was the prettiest he had ever seen. You wanted to be perfect for him- so fucking perfect.

Just when you were getting lost in your head over thoughts of him, you felt a sudden sting against your core- causing you to gasp. Eddie immediately follows it up by placing his fingers on your clit and rubbing it. He had just spanked your clit.

“Sorry,” He winces “Was that too much?”

“No!” You beg, bucking your hips “Again. Do it again.”

Eddie’s breath catches in his throat as he watches you become needy and desperate under his fingertips. It was so…fucking…hot.

“Oh, you like that?” He growls “You like it when I spank your pussy? Yeah?”

His hand comes down on it again, causing you to squeal before he places his fingers back onto your clit again to rub it soothingly. The action had your eyes rolling into the back of your head. Eddie watched, his cock reacting by growing even harder beneath his jeans.

“God, you’re a little freak.” He teases “You gonna be my little freak, baby? You gonna take my fingers, hm? You gonna be a good girl and take what I give you?”

“Yes.” You breathe “Yes, Eddie. Wanna be your good girl. Wanna be so good for you.”

And that almost does it for him. He could’ve came right there in his pants. You could’ve ruined his reputation of being one of the longest-lasting guys in porn and he wouldn’t have even fucking cared. Right now, all he cared about was you. Not his reputation, not the cameras, not everyone watching. You.

“Damn right.” He groans “You’re gonna be my good girl. You know why? ‘Cause good girls get rewarded. Good girls get my fingers. Good girls get to have my dick in their fucking mouth after I’m done making them come. You’re gonna be my good girl, baby. All for me. Right, sweetheart? You gonna be sweet for me?”

“Yes, daddy.” You squeak out. The filter between your brain and your mouth completely disappearing. You had just called him daddy.

And Eddie? He was fucking rock hard.

He had never really had a daddy kink. He wasn’t repulsed by it but it just never really did anything for him. Until now. Until the nickname rolled off of your lips- hot and heavy as his cock began to ache.

“Fuck!” Eddie growls “Say it again.”

“Yes, daddy.” You repeat. You were rewarded with another firm slap to your clit.

“You’re so lucky that this is an oral flick.” Eddie states “Because I’d have you bent over this fucking couch right now fucking pounding you. But that’s okay. Because I get to play with this pussy however I want. However daddy fucking wants, right? Yeah? And you’re gonna take it, sweetheart. Like the sweet girl you are.”

“I want it.” You moan out “Wanna take it for you. Let me have it? Please?”

Eddie Munson had fucked way more girls than he could count. The number of orgasms that he has given were very well into the hundreds. He’s had a few good fucks during his time but not like this- nothing like this. This was sexual fucking napalm. He was fucking aching for you. Practically at your fucking mercy and he wasn’t even inside of you. He had never felt a connection more intense than what he was having with you. He didn’t think that he ever will again. This was a once-in a-lifetime kind of fuck.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” He breathes “You can have all of it, good girl. Fuck, I’m all yours, princess. You want me? You want my fingers?”

“Fuck, Eddie, yes!” You moan out, still fingering yourself desperately to his voice. You were so close but it wasn’t enough. You needed him.

“Let me take over, angel.” He orders “Gonna make you feel so good.”

You hastily obey, removing your soaked fingers from your sex as Eddie watches- his eyes practically roll in sheer arousal when he sees how drenched your fingers are. Coated entirely in you. The next thing he says comes straight from his dick and not his head. He was past thinking straight at this point.

“Put them in my mouth.” He growls.

“What?” You ask, a little confused.

“Put your fucking fingers in my mouth. Wanna fuckin’ taste you, c’mon.” He grabs your hand, bringing it to his mouth as he wraps his lips around your wet digits. His mouth was warm and wet as he swirls his tongue around your fingers, sucking gratefully as he stared into your eyes- indulging in the way you tasted on his tongue. The sight of it was so fucking hot that you could’ve blacked out.

He hums around your fingers, sending a sensation to your core that had you squirming. Then he began sucking on your fingers and you let out a shameless moan that caused the corners of his full mouth to curl into a hint of a smirk. But he didn’t stop. Not until he could no longer taste you on your fingers. Once he was satisfied that he had sucked off every trace of your taste, he slowly pulled your fingers out of his mouth with a satisfying pop.

“Shit, angel.” He hums “I was right. You are sweet. Best fucking pussy I’ve ever tasted. Fuck, you’re gonna kill me.”

Best pussy he’s ever tasted. You could officially die happy now. You were the best pussy that Eddie “The Freak” Munson has ever tasted and he hadn’t even gone down on you yet.

“Goddamn, you’re wet.” He adds, using his hand again to run his fingers up and down your slit- collecting your arousal as he spreads it all over your cunt. “So fucking slippery, baby. Ready for my fingers?”

“Please, Eds.” You whine “Please, please, please…”

“Fuck, sweetheart, okay. Needy fucking girl…” He teases.

You open your mouth to protest but you were quickly cut off by the moan that left your lips instead as Eddie inserted one long digit into your warm, wet cunt.

“Oh fuck…” You mewl, mouth dropping open as Eddie uses his finger to stroke your needy walls.

“Holy shit, babe. So fucking tight. Jesus Christ…” He replies “And that’s only one finger, baby. I haven’t even given you the rest yet.”

“Please, Eddie. Give me more. I want more.” You beg.

“More? Baby, I don’t know if I can fit another one in there. You’re so goddamn tight….and wet. Holy fucking- god.” He gapes, watching you take what little bit that he gave you.

“I can take it.” You plead “I promise. I need you, Eddie. Need you so bad.”

“Yeah, sweet thing? You need me? You need me to get off?”

“Yes, fuck. Please, Eddie. Been wanting this.”

“Oh yeah, sweetness? You’ve been wanting this? Been wanting me? Been wanting me to fuck you full and make you cum all over my fingers? S’that what you wanted?”

You nod so helplessly, your face already cock-drunk and your body already desperate.

“Yes.” You reply “I need you. Please, Eds. Need you to make me feel good. Need-“

You gasp loudly as he shoves another finger inside of you, stretching you out so full of him that you were completely consumed with him. All you cared about was him.

“That good? S’That what you were begging for?” He chuckles darkly.

“Oh shit! Oh…oh my god!” You hiccup as he begins to curl his fingers inside of you. Deep enough to reach that soft spot inside of you that caused your vision to blur and your muscle to spasm in that delicious feeling of ecstasy.

“There she is…” Eddie smirks “That where you were trying to reach, sweetheart? That the spot? Yeah? Answer me.”

“Yes!” You pant “Yes, yes, yes!”

“Good.” He hums “You knew daddy would find it, didn’t you? That’s why you wanted my fingers so bad. Had to beg for it like a needy little slut. But you’re not a slut. No, you’re a good girl. My good girl. And you’re gonna take it until you cum.”

“Oh- that…ha! That feels-“ You could feel your orgasm coming. You could barely focus. You felt a pleasure so other-worldly that you were sure you were going to cum hard enough to have an out-of-body experience.

“That’s it, baby.” Eddie encourages “Cum on my fingers. C’mon. You can fucking do it, angel. You’re clenching so tight. You’re so close.”

You were moaning uncontrollably to the point where you suddenly stopped making noise completely, your mouth falling open in a silence scream as your chest heaved. Your legs began to shake as you felt the most intense sense of pleasure and relief wash over your entire body. Your eyes staring up at the ceiling as you came hard. Your mouth dry from your screams as you try to catch your breath. For a moment, you completely forgot where you were. Just basking in the post-orgasmic bliss until Eddie’s voice pierces through.

“Holy fucking shit!” He exclaims “Did you just-“

Your body tenses up, sensing that something was wrong. You sit up from where your body had collapsed against the back of the couch. That’s when you see it- Eddie’s wrist was drenched and wet. He was looking at you with wide eyes. The sofa cushions were also soaked. You were fucking mortified. Did you just fucking squirt all over Eddie Munson?

“Shit!” You panic “I- I’ve never done that before. I didn’t even know that I could- Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”

But Eddie just stares at you, his pupils blown wide. You wanted to bury yourself into the couch and disappear. You were going to die of fucking embarrassment. You open your mouth to apologize once again but you were quickly yanked down roughly to the edge of the couch, legs hastily thrown over Eddie’s shoulders as he growls hungrily- lowering his face into your cunt until he buries himself in it.

You squeal out in surprise, taken aback by his roughness and the sensitivity of your pussy after orgasming- and apparently squirting- all over your scene partner.

“Eddie!” You gasp out as he attacks your clit, sucking on it if roughly as you squirm “Fuck! Oh my god!”

He stops momentarily, his face already wet and coated in your release as he stares at you with hungry eyes.

“You…” he pants “Are so fucking hot! You drive me crazy! Wanna bury my fucking face in you. Is that okay?”

“Yes.” You whimper.

“Fuck, baby, I am so fucking hard for you right now. Watching you fucking squirt like that? Jesus Christ, I was about to fucking lose it.”

“Yeah?” You coo, looking down at Eddie as he squeezes your thighs in his hands.

“God, angel. You don’t know what you fucking do to me. Let me show you how bad I fucking want you. Scoot up onto the couch and spread your legs nice and wide for me?”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. You removed your legs from his shoulder, backing up onto the couch until you hit the backrest. As Eddie shifted more comfortably onto his knees, you instinctively spread your legs nice and wide- giving him another breathtaking view of your dripping wet sex.

“Fuuuuck, baby..” Eddie breathes, leaning down to press a soft, gentle kiss to your sensitive clit- making you squirm. “Be a good girl and spread her open for me, yeah?”

You don’t even question it, reaching down between your legs to part yourself open with your fingers.

“Fuck, there she is. So fucking pretty, sweetheart. Almost as pretty as you.” He flirts.

Eddie then collects all of the saliva in his mouth, leaning in to spit directly onto your hot cunt and it fueled something inside of you that made you feel feral and uncontrollable. You let out the most unintentionally pornographic moan as he attached his thumb to your clit, massaging roughly enough to have you panting in seconds.

“Goddamn, you are so gorgeous.” Eddie sighs, watching you take his assault onto your clit “My god. Been thinking about having you just like this since I first saw you. Wanted my face buried in-between these fucking thighs, baby.”

“Then do it, Munson.” You tease.

Eddie quirks an eyebrow, looking at you as if you had no idea what you were asking for.

“Oh, you want this, baby?” He growls “Don’t fucking worry, Princess. You can have it. You can have me. Gonna ruin you for anyone else, angel. Gonna make sure no one’s ever gonna eat your pussy out better than me.”

Before you can process his promises that were filled with possession, he brings his head down to your core- attaching his lips to your clit as he sucked on it. Immediate pleasure sends a jolt through your body, causing your hips to buck into his face. Eddie groans at your reaction, your eagerness as he sucked on your sensitive little button. He took it as praise, sucking on it harder as you squeal.

“Fuck, Eddie!” You pant. His eyes flicker to yours, watching how dark and blissed out they were becoming and he had barely even started with you. He takes things further, grazing your clit with his teeth as you gasp at the sensation. He begins to alternate his actions from gentle to rough as he serviced your clit, paying extra attention to the way you reacted to each lick, suck, and kiss that he left upon it. Each one caused your body to squirm so deliciously underneath him.

“She sensitive, baby? Yeah?” He asks, mumbling against your cunt as he watches you squirm. You nod as you watch him flick his tongue against your clit before expertly rolling it against the bundle of nerves.

You gasp at the feeling, never having experienced anyone devouring you the way that he was. You didn’t even know that he could do that with his tongue but it was leaving you breathless as you reached for his head, trying to pull him closer.

“That’s right, baby.” He growls “Put it in my face. Fuuuck yes!”

You shamelessly buck your hips, shoving your cunt into his face as he smirks- letting you grind against his tongue. It was driving him wild. How much you wanted him. How much you yearned for his touch.

“God yeah,” He groans “That’s it. Make a mess of my face, sweetheart.”

He stuck his tongue out farther for you, giving you more to hump against as you rubbed your clit on it- desperately seeking out your pleasure. Your next orgasm. His tongue felt better than anything you’ve ever felt before. You could only imagine what his dick must feel like. No wonder all of the girls he had worked with previously had lost their mind. He was even more talented than you realized.

“Oh my god!” You moan out “Your tongue…”

“Mmm…what about it, baby?” He rasps as he pulls away from you momentarily. Only for a moment but your hips were chasing after his mouth as soon as they left you.

“Fuck!” You pant “Please don’t stop! Feels so good…”

“You want more, sweet thing? Grinding on my face isn’t enough for you?” He teases, his lips wet and glossed up with your arousal.

“I need you…” You whine “I need-“

Before you could continue to beg any further, Eddie grabs ahold of your legs again- grabbing the back of your knees as he yanks you down towards the end of the couch. Your lower body arches up as he hitches your legs over his shoulders, bringing you closer to him as he buries his face in your pussy- latching onto it with a rough, insatiable fervor as he works his tongue against you again.

“Fuck, Eddie!” You scream “Oh fuck! Oh my-“

The words die in your throat and are quickly replaced by high pitched desperate whines as Eddie takes your clit back in his mouth, humming against it in a way that sends nearly earth-shattering vibrations through your body.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!” You cry out, panting and desperate as you feel another high ramping up. Eddie can sense your pending orgasm, taking things up a notch as he begins to nuzzle his face into your cunt for extra friction. Your mouth drops open in ecstasy as your hands frantically search for something to grab onto.

You settle for one hand grasping the couch cushion beneath you as the other one grabs onto a handful of his curls at the crown of his head. You were still half-suspended in the air with your legs over his shoulders as they began to shake, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“Fuck, Eddie!” You cry out “I’m- oh fuck, I’m c-cumming!”

And Eddie couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t stop. He was a man possessed as he continued to eat you out through your second orgasm, reveling in your screams of pleasure as you chant his name like he was a fucking god.

“Eddie! Oh my god, Eddie! Holy shit!” You scream out and he swore his name never sounds so fucking good. Not as good as the way that it was rolling off your lips as you orgasmed. Your cunt still on his mouth as you rolled your hips, riding that blessed afterwave. That’s when you went completely limp.

“Cut!”

You were on cloud nine and completely blissed out when the director called for everyone to take thirty. You were practically floating. Soft and pliant and boneless as Eddie carefully removed your legs from over his shoulders. He supported your lower body as he maneuvered you onto the couch so that you were laying down fully- completely nude but you didn’t care. You could be lying naked in the middle of nowhere and you wouldn’t give a damn. Not when you were feeling like you were in outer space.

“Earth to sweetheart?” Eddie whispers, his face hovering over yours as he stays kneeling in front of the couch “Doing alright?”

“Yeah…” You reply, your voice tired and soft “I feel…fuck, that was amazing.”

Eddie couldn’t help but let out a laugh at the cute little grin that spreads across your face.

“Yeah?” He asks “Was it okay for you?”

“Okay?” You retort “That was….wow!”

“Well, I’m glad that I could meet your expectations.” He chuckles, reaching up to carefully brush a strand of hair away from your face.

“Are you kidding? That surpassed my expectations.” You admit “You just about gave me an exorcism.”

“An exorcism, huh?” Eddie laughed “That’s also a new one for me.”

“Yeah?” You say “Don’t forget to add it to your resumé after this.”

You went silent for a moment before adding “I don’t know how I’m gonna top that.”

“Hey,” Eddie whispers, meeting your eyes “Don’t worry about that. It’ll be fine”

“Yeah but I wanna return the favor. I want it to be good for you too.” You admit “After that, I feel like I owe you.”

“Sweetheart, sex isn’t transactional.” Eddie explains before stopping “I mean…besides the fact that we get paid to do this for a living. But what I’m saying is that you don’t owe me anything. I just want you to have a good time, okay?”

And how could you argue with that when he was making you feel so safe and comfortable and….good? Really fucking good.

“Okay.” You agree.

“Good.” He grins “Now let’s get you off this couch and cleaned up.”

────────

Eddie was alone in one of the spare dressing rooms, drinking from a bottle of water when his manager walked in. At first, Paul doesn’t say a word. He just saunters over to the small sofa that was in the middle of the room before sinking down on it, looking at Eddie with a shit-eating-grin.

“What?” Eddie asks, taking in the expression on Paul’s cocky face.

“I told you so.” Paul speaks, his voice laced with a tone of confidence “Didn’t I tell you, kid?”

“Tell me what?” Eddie questions, still waiting to be clued in.

“That this girl wasn’t like anyone you’ve ever worked with before. You didn’t wanna believe me at first, did you?” Paul grins “Kid, I’ve never seen you so into a scene before. You and that girl….I don’t know what’s going on there but there’s something. You’ve got the hots for her.”

“I barely know her.” Eddie tries to defend himself but he knew it was no use, not really. Not when everything Paul was saying was true. He was so into you. Ridiculously into you.

“Could’ve fooled me with the way you were going to town on her, kid.” Paul laughs “So, when’s the wedding?”

Eddie takes the cap from his water bottle and chucks it at his manager.

“Very funny, asshole.” He quips, rolling his eyes.

“Look, man, I’m just fucking with you. You know, it’s actually nice seeing you enjoy yourself. And, boy, were you enjoying yourself.” Paul teases.

“Jesus Christ…”

“You know what this means, right?” Paul asks “The company is gonna want you to renew your contract. They’re gonna want you to work with her again. Eds, we’re gonna need to lock this down.”

“I’m not gonna re-sign, Paul.” Eddie drops “When I’m done, I’m done. No more.”

“What?” Paul exclaims “After all that out there? You’re still gonna walk away?”

“I mean, that was always the plan. Even before her.” Eddie answers, picking at the label on his bottle of water.

“You’re seriously still going to quit?” Paul asks “When you’re about to skyrocket even bigger when this scene goes up online? You do realize that you have the potential to make twice- hell, even three times what you’re making right now!”

“Still doesn’t change anything.” Eddie answers “It’s not about the money anymore, Paul.”

“Then what is it about, kid?”

“It’s….I don’t know. I guess I just want to feel something again for someone, you know? Not just emotionless fucking all the time. I just want to feel a connection to someone.”

Eddie felt like he was explaining something complicated and completely unfathomable. Something as difficult as a paradoxical conundrum. Sex workers didn’t usually talk about shit like this. Feelings and emotions and connection. So, how did he expect Paul to relate to anything he was trying to convey?

“What I’m trying to say is that I’m ready to hang it up. I’m ready to go back to living a normal life. I wanna fucking go out and meet someone and do the whole dating type shit. Maybe have a girlfriend? I don’t fucking know…” He continues “But I can’t fucking do that when I’m doing porn for a living.”

“Okay.” Paul nods “I get that. I guess things can get messy trying to have a relationship when you’re still in the industry. Jealousy and all that.”

“Exactly.” Eddie agrees.

“But that girl…” Paul continues “You like her?”

“I mean…she’s gorgeous.” He admits “And sweet and…honestly, too fucking good for this industry.”

“So, why not her?” Paul asks “You don’t wanna date her?”

“Are you kidding?” Eddie replies “Of course I would. She’s perfect. I just….like you said, she’s not going to stay small for long. She’s gonna end up getting big after this. I mean, fucking look at her. She’s gonna be offered gigs left and right. Her company’s gonna want her to do more stuff with other porn guys. She’s gonna forget about me by the end of next week. There’s no room for feelings in porn.”

“Eh, I don’t think she’s gonna forget about you after what you just did to her out there.” Paul laughs “But I get where you’re coming from. Anyways, should we head back to set? I’m sure your bride is eagerly awaiting your return.”

“Shut the fuck up, Paul….”

“Alright, alright.” Paul continues “I’m only joking…mostly.”

────────

Eddie peeks into your dressing room, standing in the doorway as he watches you- bending over at the waist and you lean in towards the mirror. You were touching up your makeup, making sure that you looked presentable again for the camera before stepping out to finish the scene. The part that you were the most nervous about; giving him a blowjob.

As you fluff your hair, trying to smooth it down and fix it after two mind-blowing orgasms- you catch his reflection in the mirror. Standing there as he admired you. Taking in how you were still naked underneath your short silk robe. If you had bent down just a little bit further, he could see your pussy. Completely on display and available for him to walk up to you and jam his cock inside of you, fucking you mercilessly against the hair and makeup vanity. Instead, he attempts to control himself. Just a little bit longer. He knew that he would be in your mouth soon.

“Hi.” You smile, turning around in his direction as you lean your back against the vanity- taking in the sight of him. He was still shirtless, causing you to try really fucking hard to keep your eyes on him and not his body. But he noticed. Of course he does.

“Hi.” He replies, a smirk tugging at his lips “Doing okay?”

“Yeah.” You nod, trying to control your beating heart. Goddamn, did he have an effect on you. “I’m good. You?”

“Fine.” He grins, looking you up and down as he licks his lips- taking it all in. “Never been better actually. You know, considering that I just ate out one of the prettiest women in porn. Actually wait, scratch that. One of the prettiest women ever.”

The admission causes your face to heat up.

“You know, you already made me orgasm twice. You don’t have to keep flattering me.” You joke, ducking your head. You felt like you were on the verge of melting completely if you kept looking at him.

“Hmm…I don’t know.” He replies “I feel like my job isn’t done yet. You know, I might just have to go for a third time. Just to be safe.”

Your heart was officially skipping beats at his oh-so-casual comment about making you cum a third time.

“As much as I’d like that,” You continue “I still have to return the favor. Which, if I’m being honest, I’m really nervous about.”

Eddie’s heart melts a little at your nervousness. It was a breath of fresh air compared to past porn girls who kind of just shoved him into their mouths and did their thing. He felt kind of flattered that going down on him was making you so flustered.

“Sweetheart, I already told you, there’s nothing to worry about.” He explains “You’re gonna do just fine. Like I said, I’m not-“

“Picky. Yeah, I know.” You cut him off “But I still want it to be good for you. I just….can you give me some tips? Like…what to do?”

Eddie could’ve cum right then and there. Just from hearing you be so eager and needy to please him.

“You want me to, like, coach you?” He asks, trying to stifle out a groan. Fuck, this was so hot…

“Yeah.” You nod “That would…actually be really helpful. You know, like, practice. Before I go out there and make a fool of myself in front of everyone.”

“You…wanna practice?” He asks “On me? Right now?”

Holy shit.

“Yeah.” You shrug “I mean, why not? I’m going to do it anyway. Getting some pointers from you would definitely help.”

“O-okay.” Eddie stammers “Yeah, sure. Whatever you want, sweetheart. What do you want me to-“

“What do you like?” You ask, jumping straight in “What, like, turns you on? Do you like to be stroked while you’re getting a blowjob? Do you like it when girls play with your balls? Do you-“

“Whoa, whoa. Hold on, sweetheart.” Eddie practically pants, holding up a hand in signal for you to stop “Just…hold on a sec. My brain is literally going fucking crazy right now hearing you say that.”

“I’m sorry!” You immediately begin to apologize “Did I-“

“No, baby!” Eddie shakes his head “No, no, no! You just…fuck. You’re just so hot that I’m gonna blow my fucking load in my pants before I even get the chance to be in your mouth and I- fuck, I really wanna be in your mouth, sweetheart. I-“

Before he could process it, you had walked up to him- pressing your lips against his in a bruising, hot kiss that he immediately melted into. God, you were going to be the death of him.

He kisses you back with fervor and need as your tongue slips into his mouth, battling against his as he grabs two handfuls of your silky robe- yanking you closer to him. Your hands encircle around his neck as you kiss him harder, as if you were trying to steal the air from his very lungs and Eddie? He didn’t fucking care. He’d fucking give it to you if he could. He’d give you fucking anything. He was putty in your hands.

Speaking of his hands, they were everywhere. Your hips, your thighs, buried in your hair, running up and down your back, grabbing your ass. He wanted you so bad. So, so bad.

“Fuck…” He moans against your lips, fighting for his last shred of self-control in order to prevent himself from picking you up and fucking you on whatever the nearest surface was. He didn’t care what it was. He needed you. So, when you pulled away from the kiss abruptly, he had to stop himself from groaning out in sexual frustration.

“Eddie?” You ask, your sweet voice whispering out his name in a way that had him wrecked.

“Yeah, baby?” He breathes out, realizing that as long as you kept saying his name like that, he would risk it all.

“Want you in my mouth.” You plead “Wanna make you feel good. Can I?”

And Eddie? He was fucking goo. A puddle of fucking goo for you as he tried not to fucking melt into the floor at how needy you were. How nicely you were asking for him. How could he fucking say no?

“Fuck, baby.” He moans “You wanna get on your knees for me? Right now?”

“Please?” You whisper, looking at him with those eyes.

Those. Fucking. Eyes.

“You’re gonna fucking kill me, sweetheart.” He pants “Fuck…”

“Please?” You continue “Can I?”

This right here was hotter than any fucking sex that Eddie had ever had. The tension, the arousal, the spark, the fucking chemistry. It was so fucking good. Too fucking good.

“Okay.” He nods eagerly “Okay, sweet girl. Whatever you…fuck…Whatever you want. I’m yours.”

And those two words were all that you needed to fuel you.

I’m yours.

Your hand immediately flies down to his groin, taking a firm grasp of his hardened cock through his black jeans as you squeeze it- causing him to let out a sound that was a combination of a gasp and a desperate groan.

“Shit, baby.” He breathes out, his mind malfunctioning at the feel of your hand against him- right where he needed you most “Feels so fucking good…”

“Eddie, you’re so big…” You flirt, continuing to palm him through his jeans and, goddammit, how was he supposed to control himself when you say shit like that?

“Yeah, baby?” He moans “You like that?”

“Mhm.” You flirt “Don’t know if I can take it all in my mouth.”

“Holy-“ His voice catches “You can’t- god!”

“Might gag on it.” You continue, paying extra attention to palming the tip. His knees began to feel weak under your touch.

“Sweetheart, please-“ He pleads “Don’t fucking say shit like that.”

“Why not?” You coo “You don’t want to hear me tell you that I love your dick? That I love how big it is?”

“Jesus Christ.” Eddie groans “You little fucking tease. You love it, huh? You love my big fucking dick? God, you’re fucking filthy. That dirty fucking mouth…”

“Shut me up then, Munson.” You grin “You know how to do it.”

And that’s when he fucking breaks.

“Get on your fucking knees.” He growls.

And just when you begin to sink down, to kneel in front of him and worship his cock- there was a knock at the door followed by your name.

“You’re needed on set in five!”

God…fucking…dammit.

────────

To Be Continued in Part 3…

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[spacejjunk]

how we both wondrously perish

pairing: eddie munson x reader

w/c: 14k+

summary: you love going to shows- big, small, any kind of music. you love losing yourself to the melodies and becoming one with the crowds. but who wouldve guessed that one person at one random show would change how you feel about life?

warnings/tags: insecurity, pining, smut, very much smutty smut, unprotected sex, oral (m & f receiving), a bit of fluff in there too, you two are obsessed with each other, idiots in love, infidelity if you squint, strangers to lovers, based on a true story

a/n: you know who you are

masterlist //

The middle of summer always felt like a liminal space—thick, endless, and slightly unreal. Like the world was holding its breath until fall arrived and you could finally feel like yourself again.

The heat was personal. It wrapped around your throat, slicked your hair to your forehead no matter how many times you dragged it into a ponytail, and turned every inch of exposed skin into a liability. You hated it. Hated the way the season peeled back everyone’s armor, forced bodies into the open, filled beaches and sidewalks with noise and sweat and too many eyes. Your friends kept trying to drag you out into it anyway—Chrissy with her relentless sunshine energy, the group chat pinging with plans you didn’t want.

But the shows… the shows were different. They were the only place you’d ever felt like you belonged. Fourteen years old and already at the barrier, in the pit, at the back—didn’t matter. The second the bass hit your ribs and the crowd became one breathing, sweating organism, everything else went quiet. That was freedom. That was home.

So when you were sprawled in bed on a nothing Saturday, Supernatural playing as background noise from your laptop, spooning melting ice cream straight from the tub while doomscrolling Instagram, the ad for the hardcore metal show thirty minutes away was exactly what you needed.

You screenshotted it and fired it into the group chat—the one that had survived the messy, half-finished end of your relationship? Situationship? Five years together and somehow the friends had stayed shared property. Nobody wanted to pick sides.

Steve texted back first.

Steve: metal show? like with screaming and shit?

You: yes steven. thats generally how they go. also i need a ride pls and thank youuuu

Jonathan: fuck it. im in if you buy the ticket.

You: perfect. anyone else?

Robin: nance and I have plans but have fun! dont die!

Steve: you have gas money?

You confirmed. Heart already lighter.

Then your ex texted back—Busy. Which was code for hanging out with her, the girl who’d hated you from day one and had been circling ever since the split like she was waiting for the body to cool. Your blood went hot under your skin. Fuck that. Fuck him. You weren’t rotting in your room over it.

You texted Chrissy instead, half as a distraction. Told her about the show. She replied in under a minute that it “sounded fun” and invited herself. At least she was trying.

Nighttime arrived sticky and gold-edged. Steve’s car idled at the curb, windows down, some old classic rock playlist already humming low. Cramming four people into it was an exercise in physics and unresolved tension. Jonathan and Chrissy folded themselves into the back seat—Jonathan long-limbed and unbothered, Chrissy trying not to take up space in her little sundress. You took shotgun because “someone’s gotta navigate” and because the back felt too much like being babysat.

The drive was a strange little pocket of almost-normal. Steve’s fingers tapped the wheel in time with the music. Chrissy leaned forward between the seats asking wide-eyed questions—“So people just… run into each other on purpose?”—and you answered with the patience of someone who’d done this a hundred times. Jonathan mostly watched the passing streetlights and occasionally muttered something dry that made Chrissy giggle.

The venue was small—barely more than a converted warehouse with a low stage and a bar that had seen better decades. By the time you pulled into the lot it was already swarming. Black band tees, leather jackets, chains, shaved heads, long hair, tattoos everywhere. The air outside smelled like hot asphalt, cigarette smoke, and sweat from the bodies already packed together.

Inside was worse. Or better, depending on how you looked at it.

Packed. Shoulder to shoulder, chest to back, the heat of a hundred bodies already turning the air syrupy. Red and purple lights strobed across the low ceiling. The floor vibrated under your boots even though the band hadn’t started yet. People were already moving in loose, anticipatory clusters near the front—pockets of space that would become the pit the second the first chord dropped.

Steve and Chrissy looked like they’d wandered into the wrong dimension.

Steve had gone for “I can hang” in a black t-shirt and jeans, but his shoulders were tight, eyes flicking over the crowd like he was calculating exits. Chrissy’s sundress and soft curls stood out like a flare in a blackout. Both of them drifted closer to you the deeper you pushed into the room—Chrissy’s hand brushing your arm, Steve’s presence a steady warmth at your back.

Jonathan took one look at the growing energy near the stage, grinned that slow, knowing grin, and leaned in so you could hear him over the pre-show noise.

“I’m gonna go find someone to smoke with. You got this?”

You nodded. He squeezed your shoulder once and disappeared into the crowd like smoke himself—easy, unhurried, already chatting up some guy in a Misfits shirt by the time he reached the side wall.

You steered Steve and Chrissy toward the back, near the bar where the floor rose slightly and you could still see the stage but weren’t in the direct line of fire. A guy in a cutoff already had blood on his knuckles from earlier “fun.” Another cluster near the front was already shoving, testing the boundaries.

“Trust me,” you said, voice raised over the growing roar. “We’re staying back here for now.”

Chrissy’s eyes were huge. “Is it… always like this?”

“Only the good ones.” You offered her a small smile. “Pit’s gonna be nasty tonight. People are already stage diving. I don’t want you getting caught in that.”

She nodded fast, relief flickering across her face. Steve didn’t say anything, but he stayed close—closer than necessary—his arm brushing yours every time the crowd shifted. You could feel the tension in him, the way he kept scanning like he was ready to pull you both out if it went sideways. It was almost sweet. Almost annoying.

The lights dropped. The crowd surged forward like a single living thing. Then the band hit the stage and the room exploded.

Distorted guitars ripped through the air. Drums like artillery. Vocals that sounded like someone screaming into a broken microphone and meaning every word. Bodies slammed. Fists pumped. Someone launched themselves off the stage and vanished into a sea of catching hands. The pit became a churning, violent ocean—people shoving, spinning, lifting each other, stage diving in arcs that looked like they shouldn’t be survivable.

From the back you could feel it all without being swallowed by it. The bass still rattled your teeth. The heat still pressed in. But here you could breathe. Here you could keep an eye on Chrissy’s wide-eyed wonder and Steve’s protective hovering. Here the music could do what it always did—scour the leftover anger out of your chest, drown the image of your ex with someone else, leave nothing but the thrum in your bones and the knowledge that you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

Chrissy’s fingers found your wrist during a particularly brutal surge near the front. You covered her hand with yours and didn’t let go.

Steve leaned in, mouth close to your ear so you could hear him. “You do this a lot?”

You turned your head just enough to meet his eyes—close, too close in the press of bodies. The lights painted his face in flashes of red and shadow.

“Every chance I get.”

He held your gaze for a second longer than necessary. Something unreadable moved behind it. Then he nodded once, like he was filing that information away, and stayed right where he was—shoulder brushing yours, eyes on the stage but body angled toward you like he was still on guard duty.

Jonathan reappeared twenty minutes later smelling like weed and cheap cigarettes, looking more relaxed than he had all night. He slotted in on Chrissy’s other side without a word, just bumped your shoulder in quiet greeting and let the music take him.

You stayed at the back.

For now.

The pit could have you later—when your friends were safe, when the worst of the night had burned itself out, when you could finally let go and throw yourself into the beautiful, violent mess of it. But tonight you had people who needed an anchor. And for the first time in weeks, you didn’t mind being the one holding the line.

The music kept coming. Loud. Mean. Perfect.

Between sets the lights came up halfway and the crowd loosened like a held breath finally released. The band had torn the room apart for forty minutes straight—bodies flying, voices raw, the pit a living bruise—and now everyone was drifting, sweating, laughing too loud, already craving the next hit of noise.

You needed air.

You caught Chrissy’s wrist the same way she’d held yours earlier and tugged her toward the side door. “Come on. Before it starts again.”

She followed without question, still a little wide-eyed from everything she’d seen. The smoking area out back was barely more than a cracked concrete slab someone had strung with cheap fairy lights and a couple of sagging umbrellas that did nothing against the night. It smelled like old cigarette butts, warm beer, and barely concealed weed. A few people were already out here—leaning against the brick wall, passing a joint, talking shit between bands.

You dug your cigarettes out of your pocket, shook one free, and offered the pack to Chrissy. She took one even though she didn’t really smoke, just held it between her fingers like it was part of the costume. You lit both with the same flame, then leaned back against the cool brick and let the first drag burn the leftover adrenaline out of your lungs.

For a minute neither of you said anything. The muffled thump of the next band doing soundcheck bled through the walls. Inside, somewhere in that heat and dark, Steve was probably still posted up where you’d left him and Jonathan was probably already halfway to finding another smoke buddy. Out here the air felt thinner. Cooler against your damp skin.

You exhaled hard and the words came out before you could stop them.

“I’m so fucking tired of it,” you muttered, staring at the glowing tip of your cigarette. “Like… I knew it was over. I knew. But hearing he’s with her again? Actually with her? It still makes me want to throw something. Or throw up. Or both.” Your voice cracked on the last word and you hated how small it sounded. “She hated me the whole time we were together. Acted like I was temporary. And now she gets to win? Just like that?”

Chrissy stayed quiet, listening the way she always did—soft, present, not trying to fix it. That almost made it worse.

You kept going, the whine creeping in despite yourself. “I keep telling myself I’m over it. That I’m fine. And then he texts ‘busy’ like I’m supposed to just… what? Be happy for him? Fuck that. And Steve being here tonight doesn’t help. It’s like I can’t escape any of it. The whole group chat still feels like it belongs to that version of us and I’m just… tagging along in my own life.”

You took another drag, sharper this time. The fairy lights overhead buzzed faintly, casting soft little halos on the concrete. Your chest felt tight in a way the music inside hadn’t been able to touch.

Chrissy opened her mouth—probably to say something kind, something about how you deserved better—but then her gaze shifted past your shoulder and her whole expression changed.

“Oh,” she breathed, almost to herself. “Wow.”

You followed her line of sight.

He was leaning against the far end of the wall near the overflowing trash can, one boot propped up, a cigarette dangling from his fingers like he’d forgotten it was there. Long curly dark hair—wild even in the low light—framed a face that looked like it had been made for trouble and knew it. His smile was easy, crooked, the kind that reached his eyes and made the whole thing unfairly bright. Tattoos scattered across his arms and what you could see of his legs where his ripped black jeans didn’t cover— random little symbols, a spider, something that might’ve been a demon, but the one that caught you and held was the cluster of bats inked along his forearm. Detailed. Sharp. Like they were mid-flight across his skin.

He laughed at something the guy next to him said and the sound carried—low, warm, a little raspy. It did something stupid to your stomach.

You felt Chrissy shift beside you, her shoulder brushing yours.

“God,” she said, voice pitched low so only you could hear. “He’s hot. Like… unfairly hot. Do you see the hair? And the tattoos? Jesus.”

The words landed exactly where you knew they would.

That old, ugly twist started low in your gut before you could kill it. Of course she noticed. Of course she thought so too. It wasn’t even that it happened every time—you two didn’t clock the same guys often—but when you did, when there was that rare spark of mutual oh, it was always Chrissy who got the second glance. The smile back. The conversations that turned into something more. She didn’t even have to try. It just… happened. Like gravity.

You weren’t ugly. You knew that. But standing next to her—soft curls, big eyes, that effortless pretty that made people want to take care of her—you always felt like the afterthought. The one they talked to while their eyes kept drifting. The friend. The safe choice. The one who got the “you’re cool” conversation instead of the “I can’t stop looking at you” one.

It made your skin feel too tight. Made the cigarette taste bitter.

You forced a little laugh that didn’t reach your eyes and took another drag, trying to swallow the sting before it showed on your face.

“Yeah,” you said, voice carefully even. “He’s… something.”

Inside your head the voice was louder, meaner— Of course she thinks he’s hot. Of course she said it out loud. And now if anything happens it’s going to be her he remembers, not you. Same as always.

You hated how fast the insecurity rose up, hot and familiar, mixing with everything else you’d already been dumping on her—the situationship wreckage, the ex who was probably balls-deep in the girl who hated you, all the ways your life had gone shitty lately.

Chrissy was still looking at the guy with the bats, a soft, appreciative little smile on her face like she couldn’t help it.

You flicked ash off your cigarette and told yourself it didn’t matter.

Told yourself you were used to this.

Told yourself the music would be loud enough to drown it out when you went back inside.

But the bats on his arm kept catching the lights every time he moved, and your chest stayed tight in a way that had nothing to do with the smoke.

You went back inside when the next band started tuning up, the concrete slab and open space already feeling too small, too exposed. Chrissy didn’t say anything else about the guy with the bats, but you could feel the knowledge of him sitting between you like a third person. She kept glancing at you with that soft, knowing look she got when she thought she was being subtle.

The venue was still packed, bodies shifting and resettling like the whole place was breathing. You told yourself you were just moving through the crowd because you were thirsty. That’s all. Water. Maybe the bathroom. Normal things.

But he was everywhere.

First it was at the bar. You were reaching for a cup of water when the crowd parted just enough and there he was, three people down, shaking sweat out of that wild curly hair. The bats on his forearm flashed under the red lights as he grabbed his own water and tipped it back. You froze with the cup halfway to your mouth. He didn’t see you. Or if he did, he didn’t show it. Just wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, grinned at something someone said, and melted back into the bodies like he’d never been there.

You told yourself it was nothing. Small venue. Coincidence.

Then the next set started and the pit went feral again. You’d stayed back with Chrissy and Steve like you planned, but Jonathan had wandered closer to the edge “just to feel it.” You were watching him when movement on the stage caught your eye—someone launching themselves off like gravity was optional. Long hair flying, tattoos stark against pale skin under the lights, that same cluster of bats on the arm that caught the stage lights as he flew. He disappeared into a sea of hands and reappeared laughing, already shoving his way back toward the front like he belonged there more than anyone else in the room.

Your stomach did something stupid and traitorous.

You didn’t say anything then. Not with Steve standing so close you could feel the heat of his arm whenever the crowd surged. Not with Chrissy still occasionally glancing toward the stage like she was looking for him too.

But later—between the second and third band, when you’d all drifted toward the side wall near the merch table because Chrissy needed a break from the noise—you made the mistake.

You were sipping another shitty water, trying to cool down, when the words slipped out before you could stop them.

“There’s this guy,” you said, aiming for casual and missing by a mile. “Long curly hair, all these tattoos. Bats on his arm. I keep seeing him everywhere. He’s… so fucking hot it’s actually rude.”

Steve’s head snapped toward you so fast you almost laughed. Jonathan just raised one eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was already entertained.

“Bats?” Steve repeated, scanning the crowd immediately like he could summon the guy with sheer willpower. “Where? Point him out.”

“That’s the thing,” you muttered, already regretting it. “Every time I look he’s gone. Like a ghost.”

Jonathan leaned forward, following Steve’s line of sight. “What’s he wearing?”

“Black. Like everyone else in here,” you said dryly. “But the hair’s impossible to miss. And the bats. You’ll know when you see them.”

They spent the next twenty minutes trying.

Every time the crowd shifted they’d crane their necks—Steve standing on his toes at one point like an idiot, Jonathan squinting through the haze of smoke and lights. You caught glimpses— once near the pit again, hair sticking to his neck as he shoved someone playfully; once by the side door like he was heading out for air; once just a flash of that forearm as he reached over someone to grab a flyer off the merch table. But every single time Steve or Jonathan turned to look, he was already gone. Blended back into the sea of black and leather and sweat like he’d never existed.

“Swear to God you’re making him up,” Steve said after the fourth failed attempt, half laughing, half frustrated. He bumped your shoulder with his. “Trying to mess with us?”

“I’m not,” you insisted, but there was a flush creeping up your neck that had nothing to do with the heat. “I saw him stage dive. Saw the bats clear as day. He was right there getting water earlier too.”

Jonathan just smirked, watching the crowd with new interest. “Sounds like the universe wants you to keep running into him. Or he wants you to.”

You rolled your eyes, but the words stuck. Because it did feel like that. Every time you turned a corner or the bodies parted or you went looking for something as simple as water, there he was—wild hair, easy grin, bats flashing like a secret only you were supposed to notice. And every time Steve and Jonathan tried to catch sight of him, he vanished like smoke.

Chrissy had wandered off toward the bathroom a few minutes ago, and part of you was grateful. You didn’t want to see if she was still thinking about him too. Didn’t want to watch her eyes light up the same way yours probably did every time that goddamn tattoo caught the light.

Steve was still scanning, shoulder brushing yours every time someone pushed past. “Next time you see him, grab me. Or at least get a picture so we know we’re not chasing a ghost.”

You didn’t answer. Because the next time you saw him—and you already knew there would be a next time—you weren’t sure you wanted to share.

Not yet.

The music started up again, louder than before, and the crowd surged forward like it had been waiting for permission. You stayed where you were for a second, letting the bass rattle your bones, letting the frustration and the stupid fluttering in your chest settle into something you could carry.

You needed another cigarette.

The venue felt too loud, too close, too full of everything you didn’t want to feel. So you caught Chrissy’s eye and nodded toward the side door again. She followed without asking why. The concrete and fairy lights were starting to feel like your own private corner of the night—quieter, cooler, easier to breathe in despite the heavy smoke.

You didn’t talk much this time. Just smoked in silence, the second cigarette burning faster than the first. Your head was a mess of bats tattoos, Chrissy’s soft “he’s hot” echoing in the back of your skull, and the low-grade ache of everything you’d vented earlier. By the time you stubbed the butt out under your boot, you felt marginally more human.

When you pushed back inside, the next band was still mid-set, the crowd a living wall of motion. You scanned for Steve and Jonathan and found them near the same side wall you’d left them at.

They were both grinning like idiots.

Mischievous. Too mischievous.

You narrowed your eyes as you and Chrissy reached them. “What did you do?”

Steve and Jonathan exchanged a look that made your stomach drop.

Jonathan shrugged, fighting a smirk. “We found your ghost.”

You blinked. “No way.”

“Oh yeah,” Steve said, way too pleased with himself. “Tracked him down near the pit. Long curly hair, bats and everything. Name’s Eddie.”

You were still processing the fact that they’d actually found him when Jonathan kept going, casual as anything.

“Told him you and Chrissy thought he was hot.”

The words hit like a bucket of ice water.

Fuck.

Your face went hot so fast it was almost painful. “You what—”

Of course they’d said both of you. Of course they’d made it a two-for-one thing. Like you couldn’t even have your own embarrassing crush without it getting shared.

Steve at least had the decency to look a little sheepish. Jonathan just looked entertained.

Before you could properly spiral, the crowd shifted and there he was—walking straight toward your little group like he’d been summoned.

Eddie.

Up close he was even worse. Taller than you’d realized, all long limbs and easy confidence, that wild dark hair sticking to his temples with sweat. The bats on his forearm were even more detailed than you’d thought, stark black against his skin. He had a crooked, charming smile already in place, like he knew exactly how this was about to go and found it funny.

He stopped in front of you, glanced between you and Chrissy with clear amusement, and rubbed the back of his neck.

“So,” he said, voice warm and a little raspy from yelling along with the band, “I hear there’s been some… appreciation happening.”

Your soul tried to leave your body.

He continued before any of you could answer, still smiling but gentle about it. “Look, I’m flattered. Really. You’re both gorgeous and the ego boost is appreciated. But I’ve got a girlfriend. She’s actually here somewhere—.”

The girlfriend news landed with a dull thud in your chest. Not devastating, but… yeah. Of course he did. Guys who looked like that usually did.

Eddie’s grin turned a little playful as he jerked a thumb over his shoulder. A shorter guy with shaggy hair and a Corroded Coffin shirt was hovering a few feet back, looking equal parts amused and mortified.

“This is Gareth. He’s single. Very single. And he’s down if either of you want to make out about it. No pressure.”

Gareth gave a little wave and an awkward smile that said please don’t actually take him up on this.

You didn’t even have to think.

“Ah… no thank you,” you said quickly, the words tumbling out on a half-laugh that was more embarrassment than anything. “Appreciate the offer, though. Really.”

Eddie laughed—full and bright and stupidly nice—and clapped Gareth on the shoulder. “Worth a shot. You guys have a good night, yeah? Enjoy the rest of the show.”

And just like that he was gone again, disappearing back into the crowd with Gareth in tow, like he really was some kind of ghost that only appeared when he felt like it.

The four of you stood there in stunned silence for a second.

Steve let out a low whistle. “Well. That was something.”

Jonathan was straight-up laughing now. Chrissy looked like she was trying very hard not to.

You just pressed your hands over your face for a moment, the heat in your cheeks refusing to fade.

The next set started and you tried to lose yourself in it—let the music and the bodies and the noise drown out the mortification. It mostly worked. Mostly. Every time the crowd surged you caught yourself scanning for curly hair and bats without meaning to. Steve stayed close. Chrissy kept shooting you little sympathetic glances. Jonathan looked far too pleased with the chaos he’d helped create.

By the time the band finished their last song and the lights came up halfway again, you were done.

“I’m gonna go get some air,” you said, already stepping back before anyone could offer to come with you. “Alone. I’ll be back in a bit.”

You didn’t wait for an answer.

The side door felt like an escape hatch. The smoking area was empty this time—no one else had wandered out yet. Just the lights buzzing softly overhead, the distant thump of the venue still going, and the cooler night air against your overheated skin.

You lit another cigarette with slightly shaky hands and leaned back against the brick wall, letting the smoke curl up into the dark.

Eddie.

Girlfriend.

Steve and Jonathan telling him you and Chrissy thought he was hot.

The whole thing played on loop in your head, equal parts humiliating and strangely funny now that you were alone. Your chest still felt tight, but at least out here no one could see the flush on your face or the way your thoughts kept circling back to that stupid, charming smile.

You took a long drag and exhaled toward the moon.

You were sitting on the cold concrete with your back against the brick wall, phone in your hands, thumb moving on autopilot. Scrolling through nothing. Instagram stories you didn’t care about. A text from Robin you hadn’t answered yet. Anything to keep your brain from replaying the whole “we told him you and Chrissy think he’s hot” disaster on loop.

Inside, the final band was probably getting ready to go on — you could feel the low thump of the soundcheck through the wall. You weren’t ready to go back in yet. Not with Steve’s knowing looks and Jonathan’s shit-eating grin and the lingering sting of everything that had happened in the last hour.

You didn’t even look up when someone dropped down beside you on the concrete.

Not until they spoke.

“Mind if I crash your very important phone date?”

You turned your head.

Eddie.

Up close like this, with no crowd and no awkward wingman audience, he was somehow even more magnetic. Wild curls still damp at the temples, black band tee stretched across his shoulders, the bats on his forearm stark when he rested his elbows on his knees. He had that same easy half-smile, but it was softer now. Less performance, more real.

You blinked, brain short-circuiting for a second. “Uh… yeah. Sure.”

He settled in like he belonged there, long legs stretched out in front of him, boots crossed at the ankle. Close enough that you could smell the faint mix of cigarette smoke, sweat, and something warm and spicy underneath.

“So,” he said, glancing at you sideways, “that was… a lot. Earlier. Sorry about the Gareth thing.”

You let out a short, embarrassed laugh despite yourself. “It’s fine. Really. I think my friends started it.”

“They definitely started it,” he agreed, grinning. “Ambushed me right as I was coming out of the pit. ‘Hey man, these two girls think you’re hot.’ Bold strategy. I panicked and went full ‘I have a girlfriend’ mode. Classic move.”

You raised an eyebrow. “So it's she real or?”

Eddie nodded his head, curls bouncing. “Yeah. She couldn’t make it tonight. Work thing. I was just trying to be polite and not lead anyone on in front of your whole crew.” He tilted his head, studying you for a second. “Didn’t expect to find you out here alone though. Figured you’d be inside losing your mind in the pit.”

“I needed a break,” you admitted, locking your phone and letting it rest on your thigh. “It’s been… a weird night.”

“Yeah?” His voice went a little softer, curious. “Weird how?”

You shrugged, but the words came easier than you expected. “Ex drama. My friends being assholes. The usual.”

Eddie nodded like he got it. “Sounds exhausting. Music helps though, right? That’s why we’re all here. To forget the bullshit for a couple hours.”

“Exactly.” You smiled, small but real. “And then my friends had to go and make it weird by telling you I thought you were hot.”

He laughed — low and warm and way too nice. “I mean… I am flattered. And for the record? The feeling’s mutual. You’ve got this whole ‘I'm secretly a lot wilder than I let on’ energy that’s kinda working for me.”

Your face went warm again, but this time it didn’t feel like embarrassment. It felt like something lighter. Something that made you sit up a little straighter.

“You’re smooth,” you said, trying for teasing.

“I try.” He bumped his shoulder lightly against yours. “So what’s your name, anyway? Or am I just gonna keep calling you ‘the girl who keeps appearing everywhere I go’ in my head?”

You told him. He repeated it once, like he was tasting it, then grinned. “Fits you.”

The conversation flowed from there — easy, natural, the kind that made the rough concrete under you and the distant music inside feel like background noise. You talked about the bands you’d both seen live, the worst pits you’d ever been in, how he’d never been to this venue before. He asked about your favorite shows, listened when you talked about the freedom of it, the way the music made everything else shut up for a while.

Somewhere in the middle of it, he reached over without warning and plucked your phone right out of your hand.

“Hey—”

“Relax,” he said, already unlocking it like it was the most normal thing in the world. “I’m not going through your texts. Just making sure we don’t lose each other in the void again.”

You watched, half-indignant and half-amused, as he opened Instagram, searched his own account, and hit follow on himself from your phone. Then he handed it back with a little flourish.

“There. Now you’re stuck with me. Fair warning — my stories are like… 80 percent bullshit.”

You looked at the screen. His profile was exactly what you expected — chaotic, loud, full of music and friends and that same crooked smile in half the photos. You followed him back without thinking twice.

“Bold of you to assume I won’t mute you,” you said, but you were smiling.

“You won’t,” he replied, confident and a little smug. “We vibe too hard already.”

And the worst part? He was right.

You stayed out there even when the final band started inside. You could hear the muffled roar of the crowd, the guitars ripping through the walls, people screaming along. But neither of you moved. Eddie’s knee brushed yours every so often when he shifted. The conversation kept going — deeper now, easier. He told you about his band. You told him about the shows that had saved you over the years. He made you laugh more than once, that warm raspy laugh answering every time.

At some point he lit a cigarette and offered you one without asking. You took it.

The last band played their whole set while the two of you sat on the concrete like the show inside didn’t exist. Like this little pocket of night and easy conversation was the real main event.

And for the first time all night, you weren’t thinking about your ex, or Steve, or Chrissy, or the awkward wingman disaster.

You were just thinking about how Eddie’s smile looked under these lights.

And how you really, really didn’t want this conversation to end.

The drive home was pure insanity and you barely registered any of it.

Steve’s car felt even smaller than it had on the way there — four bodies crammed in, the windows cracked to let out the smell of the joint Jonathan had produced the second you all piled in after the show. Chrissy had taken the back with Jonathan again, leaving you up front with Steve. The weed had hit fast and warm, softening the edges of the night, but it couldn’t quite touch the loop running in your head.

Eddie’s laugh under the sparkling lights. The way he’d plucked your phone out of your hand like it was nothing. The bats flashing every time he moved his arm. That low, raspy voice saying we vibe too hard already like it was a fact.

Your friends, unfortunately, had noticed you were checked out.

“So,” Jonathan started from the back, voice lazy from the joint, “you gonna tell us why you vanished for the entire last set or are we supposed to guess?”

Steve glanced over at you, one hand on the wheel, the other tapping the steering wheel in time with whatever was playing low on the radio. Even in the dark you could see the smirk. “Yeah, you were out there a while. Noticed bat guy was missing too. What was his name again? Eddie?”

Chrissy stayed quiet, but you could feel her looking at you in the rearview mirror.

You kept your eyes on the road ahead, thumb mindlessly scrolling nothing on your phone screen. “We were just talking.”

“Talking,” Steve repeated, like the word was hilarious. “For like forty-five minutes. While the final band played. Inside. Where the music was.”

Jonathan snorted. “She’s got it bad already. Look at her. She’s not even defending herself.”

“I’m not—” You cut yourself off, realizing you were smiling a little despite everything. “Shut up. Both of you.”

Steve reached over and flicked your knee, gentle but teasing. “We’re just saying. You disappear with the hot tattoo guy and come back all quiet and smiley? We’re allowed to rip on you a little.”

You didn’t answer. Just took another hit when Jonathan passed the joint forward and let the smoke curl out the window into the humid night air. They kept going — light, stupid, brotherly teasing — but your brain was already somewhere else. Back with Eddie’s easy grin and the way the conversation had felt like the only thing that had made sense all night.

By the time Steve dropped you off, your head was pleasantly fuzzy and your chest still carried that low, familiar ache from earlier. Your stupid ex. The way everything had felt messy and loud until Eddie sat down next to you like he belonged there.

You waved them off, climbed the stairs to your place, and didn’t even bother turning on the big lights. Just kicked off your boots, changed into something soft, and crawled onto your bed with your phone.

Eddie’s Instagram was exactly what you expected and somehow better.

Way too many stories from the show tonight — blurry videos of the pit, him flipping off the camera with a grin, a quick clip of him stage diving that made your stomach flip. His feed was mostly music— his band, old show posters, random photos of his hands on a guitar, a couple of him laughing with friends. One picture from a couple months ago caught your eye — black tank top, hair tied up, bats tattoo on full display as he leaned against a van. You were still staring at it when your phone buzzed.

A DM.

eddie.munson: hey. you make it home okay or did your friends actually murder you for ditching them?

You bit your lip, the weed making everything feel a little softer around the edges, the sadness from earlier still there but quieter now. Your fingers moved before you could overthink it.

fam0uslastw0rds: alive. barely. they spent the whole drive home roasting me for disappearing with you during the last set

eddie.munson: lmao i’m honored

eddie.munson: worth it though right? that concrete slab was way better than whatever was happening inside

You smiled at your screen.

fam0uslastw0rds: way better. you’re a surprisingly good distraction

The typing bubble appeared almost immediately.

eddie.munson: surprisingly? ouch

eddie.munson: i was going for devastatingly good distraction but i’ll take it

You laughed out loud in the quiet of your room.

fam0uslastw0rds: devastatingly is a strong word

fam0uslastw0rds: but… yeah. tonight was kind of shit until you sat down. so thanks for that

eddie.munson: anytime. seriously. you seemed like you needed it

eddie.munson: and for the record? i needed it too. your friends weren’t wrong about the “hot” thing either 😉

Your stomach flipped. The weed made you bolder than usual, the low ache in your chest making you want to lean into the attention instead of pulling back.

fam0uslastw0rds: bold of you to say that after the whole “i have a girlfriend” thing earlier

fam0uslastw0rds: fair. she’s real. but she also wasn’t there tonight and you were. and i’m not gonna lie and say i didn’t notice you before your friends ambushed me

You stared at the screen for a second, heart beating a little faster.

fam0uslastw0rds: you’re dangerous when you’re flirty

fam0uslastw0rds: i’m stoned and sad and you’re making it worse (in a good way)

eddie.munson: stoned and sad is my favorite flavor of honest

eddie.munson: tell me about the sad part if you want. or we can keep pretending i’m just some mysterious guy you met at a show who’s really good at making you smile at your phone

You bit your lip again, thumbs hovering.

You typed before you could stop yourself.

fam0uslastw0rds: mysterious guy at a show is working for me right now

fam0uslastw0rds: keep talking

The typing bubble came back fast.

eddie.munson: careful what you wish for

eddie.munson: i’ve got all night and zero plans

You settled deeper into your pillows, the joint haze making everything warm and slow and a little dangerous in the best way.

It had been a little over a week since the show and your phone had barely left your hand.

Eddie had given you his number that same night after the DMs started getting long — “so we don’t have to fight Instagram’s shitty messaging,” he’d texted — and from there it snowballed fast. What started as casual “made it home safe?” check-ins turned into hours-long threads. Funny stories from his day, voice notes of him playing guitar riffs, random questions about your favorite t.v. shows, your worst pit experiences, what you were eating for dinner. He was easy to talk to. And he never once mentioned his girlfriend.

You didn’t bring her up either.

You added each other on everything. Facebook (mostly for the mutual friends and old photos he didn’t care about curating). Twitter, where he posted chaotic band memes and you replied with worse ones. Snapchat became the real danger zone. Streaks started. Good morning snaps. Good night snaps. Playful ones with filters, stupid faces, sometimes just his hand holding a coffee or his guitar. The flirting lived there most of all — disappearing photos with captions that walked the line, voice notes that lingered a second too long, the kind of back-and-forth that made your stomach flip when your phone lit up.

Your friends noticed immediately.

You were sprawled on Chrissy’s couch one afternoon, half-watching some reality show none of you were actually paying attention to, when your phone buzzed for the third time in ten minutes. You smiled without thinking, thumbs already moving.

Steve, who had claimed the armchair, raised an eyebrow. “There it is again.”

Jonathan didn’t even look up from his phone. “The Eddie smile. We’ve got a code name for it now.”

Chrissy sat up straighter, eyes bright. “Okay but seriously — who is he and why does he make you look like that? You’ve been glued to that thing since the show.”

You tried to play it off, locking the screen and setting it face-down on your stomach. “We’ve just been talking. He’s funny. It’s nothing.”

“Nothing my ass,” Steve said, grinning. “You disappeared for an entire set with the guy and now you’re over here giggling at your phone like a teenager. Spill.”

Jonathan finally glanced up, smirking. “He still an hour away?”

“Yeah,” you admitted. “So it’s just texting. Snapchat mostly.”

Chrissy’s expression shifted into something softer, more determined. She’d moved on from the whole “Eddie has a girlfriend and politely rejected us both” thing within twenty-four hours — classic Chrissy. Now she was in full “help your friend get over her shitty ex” mode.

“Babe, you should flirt with him,” she said, leaning forward. “Like, actually flirt. Your ex is out there living his best life with that bitch who hates you. You deserve to have fun. Eddie’s hot, he clearly likes talking to you, and it’s not like you’re gonna run into him at the grocery store tomorrow. Live a little.”

Steve made a face that was half amusement, half something else you couldn’t quite read. “Encouraging her to flirt with the guy who has a girlfriend? Bold.”

Chrissy waved him off. “He never brings her up. She’s clearly not a factor in whatever this is. And you—” she pointed at you “—have been sad for weeks. This is the first time I’ve seen you actually excited about something. Text him. Flirt. Send him a cute snap. What’s the worst that happens?”

Jonathan just shrugged, already back on his phone. “She’s not wrong. You’ve been smiling at that screen more than I’ve seen you smile in months.”

Your phone buzzed again. You couldn’t help it — you flipped it over.

Eddie: just got out of practice. my fingers are dead. send help (or at least a distraction)

You bit your lip, thumbs flying before you could second-guess it.

You: poor baby. want me to kiss them better?

The typing bubble appeared instantly.

Eddie: dangerous game you’re playing

Eddie: but yeah. i do.

Eddie: what are you doing right now that’s so important you’re only half-flirting with me

You glanced up at your friends, who were all watching you with varying degrees of smugness.

“See?” Chrissy said, grinning. “Flirt. It looks good on you.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile.

Your phone lit up again — this time a Snapchat notification.

Eddie had sent you a photo.

You opened it.

It was him in what looked like his bedroom or practice space, hair messy, black tank top, one hand held up to the camera showing his calloused fingers with a dramatic pout. The caption read: they need medical attention. or at least attention from you.

You laughed out loud.

Your friends immediately leaned in.

“Nope,” you said, pulling the phone to your chest. “This one’s private.”

Chrissy squealed. Steve groaned. Jonathan just looked entertained.

Another buzz — regular text this time.

Eddie: so… when are we admitting this is more than just “talking after a show”?

You stared at the message for a second, heart doing that stupid flip it kept doing lately.

The sadness from your ex was still there, quiet and stubborn, but it felt smaller every time your phone lit up with Eddie’s name. The distance helped — an hour felt far enough to keep things safe and close enough to feel real. The girlfriend was a shadow you both stepped around without naming.

You typed back, bolder than you’d been in weeks.

You: idk. maybe when you stop sending me pouty hand pics and start admitting you like flirting with me

Eddie: i like flirting with you

Eddie: a lot

Eddie: your turn

You were still smiling when Chrissy threw a pillow at you.

“Text him back,” she said. “And then tell us everything.”

You ignored them, thumbs already moving.

For the first time in a long time, the ache in your chest felt like it was finally being crowded out by something warmer.

Something that looked a lot like Eddie’s name lighting up your screen again.

Months slipped by like that.

The texting with Eddie never stopped completely. It wasn’t every day — sometimes you’d go three or four days without a message — but it was always there when it mattered. A late-night “this band fucking rules, you’d lose your mind” text. A voice note of him laughing at something stupid. A random photo of his latest tattoo idea or his hand on the guitar with the caption still thinking about you.

The flirt never fully died. It just lived in the spaces between the words. A little too-long pause before he replied. A wink emoji that felt deliberate. A “you up?” at 1 a.m. that you answered even when you probably shouldn’t have. The underlying current stayed warm and electric, even when life got in the way.

Then you met him.

The new boyfriend.

He was… fine, at first. Cute enough. Said all the right things about wanting something real. But it didn’t take long for the mask to slip. He hated how much time you spent on your phone. Got weirdly quiet when your friends’ names popped up. Started making little comments about how weird the things you did were. He didn’t get the music. Didn’t get the shows. Didn’t get you. Everything with him felt small and controlled and boring in a way that made your skin itch.

You pulled back with Eddie. Not completely — you couldn’t bring yourself to cut it off — but the flirt went quiet. You texted less. Kept things surface-level. Updates about your day, music recommendations, the occasional meme. Safe. Friendly. The tension still hummed underneath every message, but you both pretended it wasn’t there.

Your friends saw through it immediately.

Chrissy was the most vocal. Every time she caught you smiling at your phone she’d give you that look. “You know you could just break up with him, right? Eddie’s still out there. Still texting you. Still Eddie.”

Steve was quieter about it, but the tension in his jaw every time the group hung out and your phone lit up said enough. Jonathan just shook his head and muttered “this guy sucks” under his breath more than once.

You knew they were right. But ending it felt harder than it should have.

Until it wasn’t.

The fight was ugly and stupid and exactly what you’d been waiting for without realizing it. He accused you of being in love with other guys. That you'd rather hang out with your 'dirtbag friends' than be mature. That no one was going to love you the way he did. You just told him you were done pretending this was working. He called you cold. You called him controlling and boring and a waste of your time.

You left his place with your stuff in a bag and your chest feeling lighter than it had in months.

That night you sat on your bed in the dark, still in the clothes you’d worn to his apartment, and opened your messages with Eddie.

Your thumbs hovered for a long minute.

Then you typed.

You: hey. you up?

The reply came faster than you expected.

Eddie: always for you. what’s up?

You stared at the screen, the words blurring a little. The relief and the exhaustion and the months of pretending crashed into you all at once.

You: i broke up with him. the boyfriend. it was… bad. he was controlling and mean and i don’t even know why i stayed as long as i did. i’m sorry i’ve been so distant. i just… couldn’t keep talking to you the way we used to while i was with him. it felt wrong.

You hit send before you could overthink it.

The typing bubble appeared almost immediately. Then disappeared. Then came back.

Eddie: fuck. i’m sorry. not sorry you’re out of it… that guy sounded like a dick from everything you told me… but sorry it sucked. you okay?

You: yeah. i think so. mostly just… relieved? and kind of sad that i let it go on so long. he hated my friends. made me feel guilty about existing.

Eddie: of course he did.

Eddie: for what it’s worth… i missed talking to you. the real way. not whatever this has been..

Your chest tightened in the best and worst way.

You: i missed it too. more than i should’ve.

Eddie: yeah?

Eddie: then stop holding yourself back. you’re single now. i’m still here. and we both know this thing between us never really went away.

You let out a shaky breath, the corner of your mouth twitching despite everything.

You: you’re dangerous when you’re direct.

Eddie: only with you.

Eddie: you wanna talk? call? or just keep texting until one of us falls asleep?

You glanced at the clock. Almost 2 a.m. Your room was quiet except for the low hum of your fan. The weight that had been sitting on your chest for months felt like it was finally cracking open.

You: text for now. i’m still processing. but… yeah. i want to talk to you. the real way.

Eddie: good.

Eddie: because i’ve been thinking about you for months and i’m done pretending i haven’t.

You smiled at your phone in the dark, the ache in your chest shifting into something warmer. Something that felt a lot like the beginning of something you’d been circling since the night you met him.

You: me too.

The texts were flying fast now, the dam finally broken.

Eddie: so what you’re saying is i should just get in the car and come over right now

You stared at the message, heart hammering against your ribs. The house was quiet. Your shitty ex’s stuff was already in a box by the door. Months of tension sat heavy in your chest, warm and dangerous.

Your thumbs moved before you could talk yourself out of it.

You: you have a girlfriend, remember?

The typing bubble appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.

Eddie: we broke up a while ago.

Eddie: didn’t want to bring it up while you were still with that asshole. didn’t feel right.

You read it twice. Then a third time.

The relief that crashed through you was so strong it almost made you dizzy.

You: come over.

You sent the address before you could second-guess it.

He didn’t reply.

He just started driving.

You paced your living room for the full hour, phone clutched in your hand like a lifeline. Every set of headlights that passed made your stomach flip. You changed out of the clothes you’d worn to your ex’s place and into something softer — an old band tee and shorts — but it didn’t help the restless energy crawling under your skin.

This was insane.

This was months of late-night texts and flirty snaps and the night you spent talking under the stars.

When the knock came, your heart tried to climb out of your throat.

You opened the door.

Eddie stood there in the porch light, hair messy from the drive, black hoodie half-zipped over a faded tee, eyes dark and hungry. He looked exactly like you remembered and somehow even better — taller, broader in the shoulders, that same crooked mouth but tighter now, like he’d been holding back for months too.

Neither of you spoke.

You didn’t even get the chance.

He stepped forward the second the door was open and you met him halfway, hands fisting in the front of his hoodie as his mouth crashed into yours.

It was messy. Desperate. Rough in a way that felt like both of you were trying to crawl inside each other’s skin after months of pretending you didn’t want exactly this.

His hands were everywhere at once — one sliding into your hair, gripping tight at the roots, the other gripping your waist and hauling you closer until your back hit the doorframe. You made a sound into his mouth that was half relief, half hunger, and he answered it with a low groan that vibrated through your chest.

You kissed like you were starving. Like every late-night text, every flirty snap, every time you’d pulled back because of your ex or his girlfriend had been building to this exact moment. His tongue slid against yours, hot and demanding. Your teeth caught his bottom lip and he hissed, pressing you harder against the door, one thigh slotting between yours like he couldn’t stand even an inch of space.

The bats on his forearm flashed when he braced a hand beside your head. You ran your fingers up under his hoodie, nails dragging over warm skin and the edge of another tattoo you hadn’t seen yet. He shuddered against you, mouth moving to your jaw, then the side of your neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark you’d feel tomorrow.

“Fuck,” he breathed against your throat, voice wrecked. “Been thinking about this since I fucking saw you.”

You didn’t answer with words. You just pulled him back up by the hair and kissed him again, deeper, rougher, months of tension pouring out of both of you in the dark doorway of your house.

Neither of you had even made it inside yet.

And neither of you seemed to care.

You barely made it to the bedroom.

Your mouths stayed locked the entire way — messy, desperate, teeth clicking, tongues sliding, little sounds escaping both of you every time one of you tried to pull back for air. Eddie walked you backward down the short hallway, hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, kicking the door shut behind him with his boot. The second it clicked, you were both moving again.

Clothes came off in frantic, half-coordinated pulls.

Your shirt went first — yanked over your head and tossed somewhere into the dark. His hoodie followed, then the tee underneath, revealing more ink scattered across his chest and ribs. You got his belt undone with shaking fingers while he worked on your shorts, shoving them down your legs along with your underwear in one rough motion. His jeans hit the floor with a heavy sound, and then there was nothing between you but heat and months of wanting.

He stepped back just enough to look at you.

And he stared.

Like he’d been starving and you were the first real meal he’d seen in years. His eyes dragged over every inch — your tits, the curve of your waist, the soft skin of your stomach, the wet heat between your thighs. His cock hung heavy and thick between his legs, already fully hard, flushed dark at the tip and so fucking big it made your mouth water on instinct.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed, voice wrecked. “You’re… fuck. You’re beautiful. You’re so fucking beautiful I don’t even know where to start.”

He didn’t give you time to answer.

He was on you again — mouth on your neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark, then lower, teeth scraping over your collarbone. His hands were everywhere, greedy and reverent at the same time. He palmed your tits like he couldn’t believe they were real, thumbs brushing your nipples until they peaked, then bent to suck one into his mouth while his hand slid down to grip your ass and haul you closer.

You reached for his cock — wanted it in your hand, in your mouth, now — but he caught your wrist gently and pulled it away.

“Not yet,” he rasped against your skin, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss right over your racing pulse. “I’ve been thinking about this for months. Let me take care of you first.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but he was already dropping to his knees in front of you.

The sight of Eddie Munson on his knees in your bedroom, looking up at you like you hung the fucking moon, made your knees weak.

He kissed the inside of your thigh first — slow, deliberate — then the other, leaving little bites and sucks that would bloom into bruises tomorrow. His hands slid up the backs of your legs, gripping tight as he nuzzled closer to where you were already soaked for him.

“Look at you,” he murmured, almost to himself. “So wet already. All this for me?”

You nodded, breathless.

He groaned like the confirmation did something to him, then leaned in and dragged his tongue through your folds in one long, slow lick that made your whole body jolt.

“Fuck— Eddie—”

He didn’t tease. He ate you like he’d been waiting years for it — tongue working your clit in firm, perfect circles, then dipping lower to fuck into you, then back up again. One of his hands stayed gripping your thigh, holding you open, while the other slid up to squeeze your ass and pull you harder against his mouth.

You tangled both hands in his hair, hips rolling helplessly as he moaned into you like he was the one getting off. Every sound he made vibrated straight through your core. He was messy with it — spit and your slick shining on his chin, eyes half-lidded and dark every time he glanced up at you like he couldn’t stand to look away for more than a second.

“Beautiful,” he panted between licks, voice hoarse. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this. Come on, baby. Let me feel you.”

He sealed his mouth over your clit and sucked, two thick fingers sliding into you at the same time, curling just right, and that was it.

Your orgasm hit hard and fast — months of tension and the shitty ex and every flirty text exploding behind your eyes as you came on his tongue with a broken cry, thighs shaking around his head.

Eddie didn’t stop until you were twitching and pushing weakly at his hair. Only then did he pull back, lips shiny, pupils blown wide, looking up at you like you’d just given him the best gift of his life.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, stood up in one fluid motion, and kissed you again — deep and filthy, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

His cock pressed hot and heavy against your stomach.

“Now,” he said, voice low and rough against your mouth, “you can have me.”

You didn’t give him time to catch his breath.

The second he stood up and kissed you again — slow and filthy, letting you taste yourself on his tongue — you pushed at his chest until the backs of his knees hit the edge of your bed. He sat down hard, looking up at you with dark, blown-out eyes and a crooked, wrecked little smile.

Your turn.

You dropped to your knees between his spread thighs and wrapped your hand around the thick base of his cock. He was still rock hard, flushed dark, a bead of precum already glistening at the tip. Huge in your hand. Heavy. Perfect.

Eddie’s breath hitched the second your tongue touched him.

You started slow — just the flat of your tongue dragging up the underside from base to tip in one long, wet stripe. His whole body jerked.

“Fuck— fuck,” he gasped, one hand flying to your hair, not pushing, just holding on like he needed the anchor. “Your tongue— Jesus Christ, baby, that’s— ah—”

You did it again. Slower this time. Then again, swirling around the head, licking away the precum like it was the best thing you’d ever tasted. He tasted clean and a little salty and him. You moaned softly around the head just to feel the way it made his thighs tense under your hands.

Eddie was already gone.

“Oh my god— your fucking mouth— been thinking about this since that night, since you smiled at me under those lights— shit—” His voice cracked on a moan as you took him deeper, tongue working the underside the whole way down. “You’re gonna kill me. You’re actually gonna fucking kill me. That tongue— fuck, do that again— please—”

You pulled off just enough to lick him from root to tip again, slow and deliberate, then flattened your tongue and dragged it over the head in lazy circles while your hand stroked what your mouth couldn’t reach. He was babbling nonstop now, hips twitching, trying so hard not to thrust up into your mouth.

“Look at you— on your knees for me— so fucking beautiful— god, your tongue feels insane— I’m not gonna last, baby, I’m not— fuck—”

You took him deeper, relaxing your throat, letting him feel the wet heat of your mouth and the deliberate, filthy drag of your tongue along every inch. His free hand gripped the edge of the mattress so hard his knuckles went white. The other stayed tangled in your hair, gentle even as his whole body shook.

“I’m close— fuck, I’m so close— where do you want it?” he panted, voice wrecked and desperate. “Tell me— please— I’m gonna— shit—”

You pulled off with a wet pop, kept stroking him fast and tight with your hand, and looked up at him through your lashes.

“Come on my tits.”

The words barely left your mouth before he broke.

Eddie came with a broken groan of your name, thick ropes painting your chest and tits in hot stripes. His head fell back, curls sticking to his forehead, mouth open on a string of helpless, filthy praise as he pulsed in your hand.

“Fuck— beautiful— so fucking beautiful— look at you— god—”

You stroked him through it until he was twitching and oversensitive, then let go. He was still breathing like he’d run a marathon, chest heaving, eyes glassy as he looked down at the mess he’d made on your skin.

For a long minute, neither of you moved. Neither of you cared that you were covered in his come— if anything he enjoyed the sight more.

Then he reached for you — gentle this time — and pulled you up into his lap. You straddled him, both of you still catching your breath. His hands slid up your back, warm and steady, while yours rested on his shoulders. He leaned in and kissed you slow and soft, nothing like the desperate crash from earlier.

“Hi,” he murmured against your mouth, voice hoarse and warm and a little shy now that the heat had crested. One of his thumbs brushed a streak of his come across your collarbone like he couldn’t quite believe this was real. “Been wanting to say that properly since I walked through your door.”

You smiled, forehead resting against his, both of you still sticky and flushed and half-hard again already.

“Hi,” you whispered back.

His arms wrapped around you, holding you close while his cock twitched against your thigh, already starting to fill out again. Neither of you rushed it. You just stayed there — breathing each other in, the months of tension finally settling into something quieter.

Eddie pressed a kiss to your temple, then another to the corner of your mouth.

The soft “hi” didn’t stay soft for long.

You were still straddling his lap, bodies pressed close, when the next kiss turned deeper. His hands slid up your back, one tangling in your hair, the other gripping your hip hard enough to pull you tighter against him. What started as slow and sweet quickly ignited again — tongues sliding, teeth nipping, the low sound he made when you rolled your hips against his hardening cock.

You barely noticed when he flipped you.

One second you were on top, the next your back hit the mattress and Eddie was over you, caging you in with his body. His mouth never left yours for more than a second. The kiss turned filthy — wet and hungry — as he settled between your thighs and rocked his cock against your slick folds.

“Been waiting months for this,” he muttered against your lips, voice already rough again. “Months of texting you like a fucking teenager while I jerked off thinking about exactly this.”

He reached down, lined himself up, and pushed in with one slow, thick thrust.

You gasped at the stretch — he was big, and he knew it. Eddie groaned deep in his chest, forehead dropping to yours as he bottomed out.

“Fuck— tight little pussy’s squeezing me so good already,” he rasped. “Look at you. Such a good girl. Taking every inch like you were made for it.”

He didn’t give you time to adjust before he started moving.

Eddie was dominant in a way that made your head spin — one hand pinning both of your wrists above your head against the mattress, the other gripping your thigh and hitching it higher around his waist so he could drive in deeper. His thrusts were hard and deliberate, hips snapping against yours with wet, filthy sounds that filled the room.

“Eyes on me,” he ordered, voice low and commanding when your eyes started to flutter shut from how good it felt. “Want you looking at me while I fuck you. Been thinking about this pretty face for months.”

You moaned, helpless under him, and he rewarded you with a particularly deep thrust that made your back arch.

“That’s it baby,” he growled, leaning down to bite at your neck, sucking another mark over the one he’d already left. “Let me hear you. Been so fucking good for me tonight — letting me eat this pussy, letting me come on these perfect tits. Now you’re gonna take my cock like the good girl you are, aren’t you?”

“Yes— fuck, Eddie—”

He groaned at the sound of his name, pace picking up. The bed creaked under the force of his thrusts. His free hand slid between your bodies to rub tight circles over your clit while he fucked you, never breaking eye contact.

“Been mine since that night at the show haven't you?” he panted against your mouth, dirty and possessive. “Doesn’t matter how far away I live. This pussy? These marks on your skin? All fucking mine now. Say it.”

You were too far gone to do anything but obey, the words tumbling out broken between moans.

“Yours— I’m yours—”

“That’s right.” He kissed you hard, then pulled back just enough to watch your face as he fucked you through it. “Come on my cock, baby. Wanna feel you fall apart while I’m buried in you. Been waiting too long for this.”

The combination of his filthy mouth, the relentless pressure on your clit, and the way he was pounding into that perfect spot had you spiraling fast. Your second orgasm hit even harder than the first — your whole body tightening around him as you cried out his name.

Eddie fucked you through it, pace turning almost brutal for a few strokes before he buried himself deep and came with a low, wrecked groan, pulsing hot inside you.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered into your hair, voice hoarse and fond. “You’re gonna ruin me.”

After Eddie came deep inside you, he stayed buried there for a long minute, both of you shaking and breathing hard. Then he carefully pulled out, rolled onto his back, and tugged you with him until you were sprawled half on top of him, one leg thrown over his thighs, your head resting on his chest. His arm wrapped around your shoulders, fingers tracing slow, absent patterns on your bare back. The other hand found yours and laced your fingers together.

Neither of you moved to clean up or get dressed. The sheets were a mess. Your skin was marked with his mouth and his come was still warm between your thighs. But right now, none of that mattered.

You just… stayed.

The silence wasn’t awkward. It felt like exhaling after holding your breath for months.

Eddie was the one who broke it first, voice low and a little raspy from everything you’d done to each other.

“I kept telling myself I was gonna stop texting you,” he admitted quietly, his thumb stroking the back of your hand. “Every time you went quiet for a few days, I’d think ‘okay, this is it, she’s moving on with that guy.’ But then you’d send something at 2 a.m. and I’d answer in two seconds like an idiot.”

You smiled against his chest, pressing a soft kiss to the ink over his heart.

“I almost blocked you once,” you confessed. The words came easier in the dark, with his skin warm under your cheek and his arm solid around you. “Not because I wanted to. Because it hurt too much to keep talking to you while I was with him. He hated it. Hated everything good in my life.”

Eddie’s arm tightened around you. His free hand came up to gently tilt your chin so you’d look at him. His eyes were soft in a way that made your chest ache.

“I hated it too,” he said. “Not you talking to me — never that. I hated that you were with someone who made you feel like you had to hide the best parts of yourself. The parts that light up when you talk about any of those silly things you like. The parts that sent me voice notes at 3 a.m. because you couldn’t sleep.”

You swallowed, throat suddenly tight.

“He was controlling,” you whispered. “Boring. Mean when he didn’t get his way. And I still stayed longer than I should have because… I don’t know. It felt safer than admitting how much I wanted this.”

Eddie didn’t say anything right away. He just pulled you closer until your leg slid more firmly over his and your bodies were pressed together from chest to hip. His fingers kept tracing slow lines on your back — grounding, soothing.

“I broke up with my girlfriend a couple months after the show,” he said eventually. “It wasn’t dramatic. We just… weren’t right anymore. I kept comparing her to the girl I met because her idiot friends ratted her out for thinking I was hot and it wasn’t fair to anyone.” He let out a soft, self-deprecating laugh. “I was already half in love with you through a screen before I even let myself admit it.”

Your heart stuttered.

You lifted your head just enough to meet his eyes again. The vulnerability there matched your own.

“I’ve been falling for you since that night,” you admitted quietly. “Every text. Every stupid meme. Every time you sent me a voice note of you playing guitar at 1 a.m. because you couldn’t sleep either. I kept telling myself it was just flirting. Just a crush. But it wasn’t.”

Eddie’s hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing gently under your eye.

“It still isn’t,” he said. “I know I live an hour away. I know this is messy and new and we just had the most insane sex of my life. But I don’t want this to be a one-night thing. I want to keep texting you stupid shit at 2 a.m. I want to drive up here on weekends. I want to take you to shows and watch you lose yourself in the pit again. I want—”

He stopped, like the words were too big all at once.

You leaned in and kissed him — slow, sweet, nothing like the desperate claiming from earlier. When you pulled back, your forehead rested against his.

“I want that too,” you whispered. “All of it.”

Eddie let out a shaky breath and wrapped both arms around you, rolling slightly so you were tucked more securely against his chest. One of his legs slid between yours. His hand found the back of your neck and held you there like he was afraid you might disappear.

You guys stayed like that — naked, tangled, hearts beating against each other. Every so often one of you would press a kiss to whatever skin you could reach. His fingers kept moving over your back in those slow, soothing patterns. Yours traced the edges of the bats on his forearm.

The months of tension finally unwinding into something warm and real and terrifyingly hopeful.

Eddie’s voice was soft when he spoke again, barely more than a murmur against your hair.

“Stay right here with me for a while, yeah?”

You nodded, eyes already heavy, body loose and sated in a way it hadn’t been in months.

“I’m not going anywhere."

You glanced at the clock on your nightstand.

4:17 a.m.

The red numbers glowed softly in the dark room. You’d been talking and tangled up in each other for over an hour — soft kisses, deeper confessions, the kind of quiet honesty that only comes in the middle of the night. Your bodies were still sticky with sweat and come, sheets twisted around your legs, but neither of you had moved.

Eddie’s fingers were still tracing slow patterns on your back when you felt the shift.

The kisses started changing.

What had been lazy and sweet turned hungry again. His mouth slanted over yours with more intent, tongue sliding deep, teeth catching your bottom lip. The arm around your waist tightened. The hand on your back slid down to grip your ass, squeezing hard enough to make you gasp into his mouth.

“Fuck,” he muttered against your lips, voice already rough again. “Look at the time. We should probably sleep…”

But he was already rolling you onto your stomach, following right behind you, his body covering yours from behind. His cock — already hard again — pressed against the curve of your ass as he nipped at the back of your neck.

You pushed back against him instinctively.

Eddie groaned, low and filthy.

“Yeah?” he rasped, one hand sliding between your thighs to find you still wet and swollen for him. “You want it again?”

You nodded, already breathless.

He didn’t make you wait.

He pulled you up onto your hands and knees, gripping your hips hard as he positioned himself behind you. One thick hand came down to spread you open, and then he was pushing back inside in one long, smooth thrust that made both of you moan.

“Jesus— fuck, look at that,” he growled, voice wrecked as he bottomed out. His hands gripped your ass, thumbs digging into the soft flesh as he pulled back and thrust in again, harder this time. “This ass— been obsessed with it for way too long. Bouncing on my cock like this? Shit.”

He set a rough, steady pace — hips snapping against you, the sound of skin meeting skin loud in the quiet room. Every thrust pushed you forward on the bed, and every time you pushed back to meet him, he groaned like he was losing his mind.

“Fuck yes— just like that,” he panted, one hand sliding up your spine to grip the back of your neck, holding you in place while he fucked you harder. “Taking me so deep. This pussy’s gripping me like it doesn’t want to let go.”

You were moaning openly now, arms shaking as he drove into you again and again. He was rough — gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, pulling you back onto his cock with every thrust, the occasional sharp slap of his hand on your ass that made you clench around him.

“Been thinking about fucking you like this,” he growled, leaning over you so his chest pressed to your back, mouth right by your ear. “Bent over, ass up, taking every inch while I watch it bounce. You’re so fucking perfect like this. Mine.”

The word sent a shiver through you.

He fucked you like that for longer than you thought was possible— his stamina only getting higher in the early hours of the morning — long, deep, relentless strokes that had you shaking and dripping down your thighs. Every time you got close he’d slow down just enough to drag it out, or reach under you to rub your clit in tight circles while he kept pounding into you from behind.

“Look at you,” he rasped, voice hoarse with how long he’d been holding back. “So fucking beautiful when you’re taking it rough. You gonna come for me again? Gonna come all over my cock while I watch this pretty ass bounce?”

You were too far gone to answer with words — just a broken moan as your orgasm crashed over you, walls fluttering and clenching around him.

Eddie fucked you through it, pace turning almost brutal for a few strokes before he buried himself deep and came with a low, guttural groan, pulsing hot inside you for the second time that night.

He stayed there, forehead pressed between your shoulder blades, both of you panting and trembling. His hands gentled on your hips, stroking softly over the marks he’d left.

Then he carefully pulled out, rolled you onto your side, and curled up behind you, one arm wrapping tight around your waist and pulling you back against his chest.

“4 a.m. sex hits different,” he mumbled into your hair, voice warm and fucked-out and a little amused. His lips brushed the back of your neck. “You okay?”

You nodded, still floating, reaching back to lace your fingers with his where they rested on your stomach.

Eddie pressed a slow, sweet kiss to your shoulder — a stark contrast to how rough he’d just been — and held you tighter.

“Sleep,” he murmured. “I’ve got you.”

You woke up to sunlight cutting across the bed and Eddie’s arm heavy around your waist.

For a second you didn’t remember where you were — just the warm, solid weight of another body pressed against your back and the faint ache between your thighs. Then it all came rushing back. The show. The months of texting. The shitty ex. Eddie on your doorstep in the middle of the night. The way he’d looked at you like he wanted to devour you. The way he had.

You were still naked. So was he. His leg was slotted between yours, one big hand splayed low on your stomach like he’d fallen asleep holding you there. His breathing was slow and even against the back of your neck.

You shifted slightly and felt him stir.

“Mmm.” His voice was sleep-rough and low. “Morning.”

His arm tightened, pulling you closer until your ass was nestled against his hips. You could feel him half-hard again already, but he didn’t push it. Just pressed a slow, lazy kiss to the side of your neck, right over one of the marks he’d left.

You turned in his arms until you were facing him. His hair was a wild mess, eyes still heavy-lidded, but he was smiling — soft and a little shy in the morning light.

“Hi,” you whispered.

His smile widened. “Hi.”

He kissed you properly then — slow and sweet, nothing like the desperate hunger from a few hours ago. When he pulled back, his thumb brushed gently over your bottom lip.

“I have to go to work,” he said, voice still gravelly. “In like… twenty minutes. And I really, really don’t want to.”

You made a small disappointed sound and he laughed quietly, kissing the tip of your nose.

“I know. Trust me, I know.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, eyes tracing over your face like he was memorizing it. “But I’ll see you again soon. This weekend, if you want. Or sooner. I’ll drive up. We can do this again. Not— not just the sex. The everything.”

You nodded, suddenly shy in a way you hadn’t been last night.

“I want that.”

Eddie kissed you one more time — deeper this time, like he was trying to leave a piece of himself behind — then reluctantly pulled away.

He got dressed while you watched from the bed, pulling on his jeans and hoodie from the night before. Before he left, he leaned over you one last time, bracing a hand on the mattress beside your head.

“Go back to sleep baby girl. Text me when you wake up for real,” he murmured. “I’m gonna be thinking about you all day.”

Then he was gone, the front door clicking shut behind him.

You dozed for another hour before your phone buzzed on the nightstand.

Eddie: made it to work. barely. kept thinking about how you looked riding me last night and almost turned the car around

You smiled, still buried in the pillows that smelled like him.

You: dangerous. i’m still in bed and i can feel everywhere you touched me

Eddie: good. i left marks on purpose

Eddie: you have work today too or you get to be lazy today?

You: lazy. still processing the fact that you drove an hour in the middle of the night just to fuck me stupid

Eddie: worth every mile

Eddie: also worth the way my boss just asked why i’m smiling like an idiot

You laughed out loud in the empty room.

You: tell him you got laid by someone who’s been driving you crazy for months

Eddie: already did. he high-fived me. i’m never living this down

A few minutes later another text came through.

Eddie: for real though… last night was a lot. in the best way. the talking. the fucking. all of it. i meant what i said about seeing you again soon

You stared at the screen for a second, heart doing that soft, warm flip it kept doing whenever he got sincere.

You: i meant it too. this weekend?

Eddie: this weekend. i’ll bring food. and maybe not let you leave the bed for a while

You: bold of you to assume i’d want to leave

Eddie: that’s my girl

You bit your lip, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.

You: drive safe on the way home later. and text me when you get off work. i like knowing you’re thinking about me

Eddie: always thinking about you.

Eddie: especially that ass. and the way you say my name when you come. and how you looked at me when we were just talking at 4am like i was something worth keeping

Your chest went tight in the best way.

You: you are

The typing bubble appeared, disappeared, then came back.

Eddie: fuck. okay. i’m gonna go do my job now before i say something stupid like “i think i’m already in love with you”

You: too late. you already did

Eddie: …yeah. i did.

Eddie: see you this weekend, beautiful

You set your phone down on your chest and stared at the ceiling, still smiling.

The sheets still smelled like him. Your body still ached in all the right places. And for the first time in a long time, the future felt like something you were actually looking forward to.

[fic-dump-dotcom]

this genuinely meant so much to me. as a person who is often told i'm pretty but never picked, i always love the stories that show that side of stuff. like you see plenty where the reader isn't told or doesn't think of themself as pretty, but knowing that and still having to deal with that not being enough? still having someone else being chosen over your, someone who is always chosen over you? and then staying with someone who doesn't really respect you simply because it's better than having to deal with the alternative?

yeah... you cut me real deep

[moontannedmunson]

Pool Cues & Crossed Lines

⋆˚꩜｡pairing: eddie x bff!fem!reader ⋆˚꩜｡summary: After three months of listening to your best friend brag about the size of his dick, you finally decide to call his bluff. ⋆˚꩜｡tags/tw: explicit sexual content 18+ minors do not interact | no y/n, afab!fem!reader, best friends to lovers, alcohol use, light praise kink, unprotected p in v, eddie is a cocky mf, i think that’s all? ⋆˚꩜｡word count: 4.8k+ ⋆˚꩜｡a/n: loosely inspired by this post right here, that has been sitting for literal years in my likes lol hope this is readable x // still on my writing break! just wanted to drop this<3

Eddie Munson was the bane of your fucking existence.

He was too loud, always yelling or laughing directly into your ear until it rang for the rest of the night. He was kind of disgusting too, forever burping in your face or wearing the same dirty socks because he’d forgotten to do the laundry again. He was annoying in every sense of the word. In fact, if you looked up annoyance in the dictionary, you’d literally find a picture of him grinning proudly at the camera.

Unfortunately, you’d grown more than used to all of it, considering he’d also been your best friend for years.

Although, lately, you’d been seriously considering giving him a different title instead. Best asshole. Best cocky motherfucker. Best creep.

Those last two had a nice ring to them, actually.

Especially considering that, ever since he’d lost his virginity three months ago, he’d developed an insufferable habit of flashing you that smug, sideways grin while going on and on about how big his dick supposedly was.

“I’m serious, sweetheart.” He leaned back, looking entirely too pleased with himself as his gaze dragged lazily over you before settling on your face again. “There’s no way someone like you could fit it.”

Ignoring the second glance he snuck down your cleavage as you leaned over the pool table, you lined up your shot with steady hands and fixed your eyes on the cue ball.

“What do you want me to say, Eddie?”

You pressed the tip of your tongue against the inside of your cheek as the cue brushed over your knuckles while you drew it back, just enough to steady the swing.

“Congratulations?”

The stick slid forwards in one smooth, measured movement, sending the cue ball snapping across the felt.

“Or condolences for never, ever finding someone willing to hop on your monstrous dick?”

One by one, the balls found their places. The striped ball disappeared into the pocket with a muted click, clean and final.

You didn’t rush to celebrate. Instead, you studied the table for a second longer, taking in the angle you’d left yourself before stepping into position for your next shot. It looked good when you leaned over the felt, cue gliding through your fingers as you lined it up.

Except it wasn’t, and the object ball caught the jaw of the pocket with a dull clack before spinning back onto the table.

“Aw, fuck,” you muttered under your breath, straightening as you stepped aside.

Eddie let out a low whistle as he took your place, that stupid, cocky grin still plastered across his face. Leaning over the table, he tapped the cue against the rail once before lining up his own shot. A sharp crack echoed through the empty bar as the cue ball connected, sending one of the solids banking neatly into the corner pocket.

“Listen, dude, I’m just saying.” Eddie shrugged as he pushed himself upright and reached for his beer.

Circling the table with your cue balanced loosely in one hand, you searched the table for what he’d left behind.

“Saying what, exactly?” you asked, arching an eyebrow.

“That it’s a genuine problem,” he replied over the rim of his beer bottle. “Remember that girl I fucked in the back of the van last week?”

Before you could even tell him to stop, he was already launching into the story.

Apparently, she’d spent half the time insisting he was too big while stubbornly trying to take all of him anyway.

You answered by leaning over the pool table once more, deliberately focusing on your shot instead of the absolute bullshit coming out of his mouth. The cue slid smoothly through your fingers before the cue ball rolled forward with a satisfying crack.

“Dude.” You scrunched your nose in disgust as you straightened. “I do not need to know all the details.”

Eddie flashed that infuriating grin again, dragging the tip of his tongue lazily across his lower lip.

“You don’t have to hear the details,” he said with a shrug. “You could always skip straight to the practical demonstration.”

And there it was.

It wasn’t the first time Eddie had held your gaze a little longer than necessary while spewing some ridiculous bullshit about taking him for a test drive. It came with years of friendship – careless, empty words tossed around for no other reason than to get a rise out of you.

But, see, Eddie had somehow forgotten who he was talking to – you. The physical incarnation of intrusive thoughts, and the only person who could match Eddie’s freak – or his stupidity.

The rest of your friend group had perfected the art of staying out of it; they’d learned years ago that the quickest way to become collateral damage was to accidentally encourage either of you.

And once one of you committed to the bit, the other treated it like a declaration of war.

Big mistake on Eddie’s part for forgetting that.

“Alright,” you said with a dramatic sigh as you pushed yourself away from the pool table. “Strip.”

Eddie’s hand stalled halfway to his mouth, the beer bottle hovering just below his lips. The cocky grin faltered for only a second before he recovered with a chuckle.

“C’mon, sweetheart.”

“I’m  serious.” You raised an eyebrow. “You closed the place an hour ago. It’s just the two of us here.”

Crossing the room, you slid your cue back onto its rack before grabbing your beer from the table behind him. You tipped back the last mouthful and set the empty bottle down with a hollow thunk before turning back to him.

“So…” You folded your arms across your chest. “Strip.”

“I’m not just gonna–”

“Why not?” You tilted your head, all mock sympathy. “Afraid you’ll embarrass yourself?”

Eddie scoffed, although it lacked some of its earlier confidence. “Of course not–”

“Then fucking strip and get on the pool table.”

Eddie blinked, caught off guard for the briefest moment, before that crooked grin slowly crept back onto his face. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, the grin returning despite the lingering pink in his cheeks.

“Jesus H. Christ. You’re actually serious.”

“I’m dead serious, Eddie.” You kept staring at him, thoroughly unimpressed by the fact he still hadn’t moved. “Do I have to come over there and do it myself?” You’d barely finished the sentence before uncrossing your arms and taking a few deliberate steps towards him. “Because I will.”

“What–”

“You know, I don’t believe a word that’s come out of your mouth for the past three months.” You stopped in front of him, curling your fingers into the open front of his flannel just enough to tug him a fraction closer. Holding his gaze without blinking, you added, “So here’s your chance, big boy. Prove me wrong.”

Eddie searched your face for the punchline, but there wasn’t one.

The flirting had become second nature a long, long time ago, neither of you really able to pinpoint exactly when. Somewhere along the way, the lingering touches, the forced proximity, and the teasing words had all become part of the game the two of you played more often than not.

A game that had never gotten this far before.

And somehow, Eddie didn’t seem to mind.

A slow grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. Without breaking eye contact, he reached behind his back and set his beer on the edge of the table, and then his hands settled on your hips instead.

“Look, sweetheart,” Eddie chuckled, tightening his grip on your hips. “How about you take me out to dinner first, hm?”

“You already made me buy you a shot during your shift.” You shot him an unimpressed look before tightening your fingers around his flannel. With a firm tug, you slipped it off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor between you. “You’re stalling, and I’m getting impatient.”

A crooked grin spread across Eddie’s lips as he flickered his gaze up and down your face. “As you wish, sweetheart.”

His gaze lingered on yours for another beat as the tip of his tongue swept lazily across his lower lip. Giving your hips one final squeeze, he finally let go and took a few unhurried steps backwards. He winked, and then reached for the button of his jeans.

“This better be worth my time, Munson.”

Taking a few steps back yourself, you leaned against the edge of the pool table before hoisting yourself up to sit on it.

Ignoring the raised eyebrow Eddie shot your way, you hooked your fingers beneath the hem of your shirt and peeled it over your head in one smooth motion before tossing it somewhere in his general direction.

Eddie’s ringed hands stalled for the briefest moments as his eyes wandered over your frame – or, more specifically, the lacy bra hugging your chest just a little too well for his own peace of mind.

This felt vastly different from seeing you in a bikini.

Maybe it was because there was nothing casual about it. Nothing accidental about you taking your shirt off for him, on purpose.

Or maybe it was the faint outline of your nipples beneath the lace.

Whatever the reason, it was definitely not why his fingers hesitated for that split second before he forced himself to continue undoing his jeans.

Eddie’s entire shift had been so fucking loud that, by the end of it, his head had been pounding behind his temples.

Now though? The quiet was somehow worse. The low hum of the bar fridges beneath the counter and the steady ticking of the clock somewhere behind him suddenly sounded deafening. There was no music or drunken chatter to drown out the frantic pounding of his heartbeat – or the fact that you didn’t seem to have any intention of backing down.

Which, naturally, meant Eddie wasn’t about to back down either.

Swallowing past the lump in his throat and praying you hadn’t noticed, he forced that cocky grin back into place before kicking off his shoes and shoving his jeans down the rest of the way.

“Gonna take off that skirt of yours,” he scoffed as he hooked a thumb beneath the collar of his shirt, pulling it over his head, “or do you want me to do it?”

“Hm.” You tilted your head, pretending to consider the offer as the tip of your tongue swept lazily across your lower lip. “Promise not to cum the second you see my panties?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, though the grin tugging at the corner of his mouth never quite disappeared. “Real funny, sweetheart.”

He closed the distance between you with a couple of slow, deliberate steps. Curling his hands around your hips once more, Eddie lifted you off the edge of the pool table in one smooth motion, earning a startled shriek from you. He pulled you flush against his bare chest, looking at you through his lashes before a crooked grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.

His tongue swept lazily across his lower lip as he let his hands drift from your hips to the waistband of your skirt. Tilting his head forwards, he brushed the tip of his nose against yours while his fingers found the button.

The soft click of it coming undone echoed through the otherwise silent bar, and then came the quiet rasp of the zipper down. The sound lingered in the air for a moment before your skirt pooled around your ankles with a muted thud.

“You sure you wanna do this?” he asked quietly, his fingertips lingering against the bare skin of your waist.

His grin lingered as his hands drifted back down to your hips. Warm, calloused fingers settled against your skin before tightening just enough to lift you onto the edge of the pool table once more.

“You gonna keep stalling, or are you gonna show that supposedly big dick of yours?” you murmured, instinctively curling your legs around his waist as a smile tugged at the corner of your mouth.

Eddie scrunched his nose in mock offence, looking almost genuinely offended by your choice of words. “Don’t objectify me.”

“Isn’t that exactly what you’ve been doing for the last three months?” You shot him a flat look.

He opened his mouth like he’d already thought of the perfect comeback, only to stop himself halfway through. A dry, disbelieving laugh escaped him instead as he shook his head, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“…Yeah, alright. Fair enough.”

For a second, you couldn’t remember what either of you had been saying as your gaze drifted across his face. It lingered on his parted lips for the briefest moment before finding his eyes again.

Eddie had always been Eddie – loud, obnoxious, and completely insufferable. The kind of asshole who’d burp in your face just because he knew it’d piss you off, steal fries off your plate after insisting he wasn’t hungry, and somehow turn every conversation into an opportunity to talk about himself.

Somehow, standing this close to him now, with your legs curled around his waist, he also looked unfairly handsome.

You hated that realisation.

More than that, you hated the fact that your eyes kept drifting back to his mouth – and that it hadn’t gone unnoticed by them.

You could see it in the way the corner of his mouth twitched into that stupid, cocky grin, and the way he stood there looking entirely too pleased with himself, as though he’d already decided he’d won.

There was no way in Hell you were about to let Eddie win this round.

So, before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned forwards and pressed your lips against his.

Eddie froze for the briefest moment, clearly caught off guard by the sudden kiss. His eyes widened just slightly before they fluttered shut again, a quiet, almost disbelieving hum escaping him like he hadn’t expected you be the one to close the distance first.

Then, as if remembering exactly who he was kissing, that familiar confidence returned. His grip on your hips tightened ever so slightly as he tilted his head, meeting you halfway and deepening the kiss with an ease that made your stomach twist.

His lips were every bit as soft as they’d looked, and it drove you just a little bit insane how unfairly good the asshole was at kissing. The steady pressure of his mouth against yours sent warmth blooming through your chest, only intensifying when he lingered for just a heartbeat longer than necessary before finally drawing back enough for the two of you to breathe.

“I thought I’d told you to get on the pool table,” you murmured, still slightly out of breath.

Looking up at him through your lashes, you swept your tongue across your lips, unconsciously catching the lingering taste of the kiss as you slowly unfurled your legs from around his waist.

Eddie, however, didn’t seem all that eager to let go. One hand lingered on your hip while the other drifted to the strap of your bra. He gave it a curious tug before letting it snap gently back against your skin, a smug grin spreading across his face.

“Getting desperate already?”

“Just wanna get this nightmare over with,” you replied with a dramatic roll of your eyes, giving his chest of a half-hearted shove.

“Sure, sweetheart.” Eddie chuckled as he finally let go of your hip. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Turning just enough for the small of his back to meet the edge of the pool table, he hoisted himself onto it before shuffling towards the middle of the green felt. Once has was comfortably settled, he folded his arms behind his head and looked over at you with some infuriating grin.

“Gonna make me sit here in anticipation just so I can be impossibly disappointed?” you scoffed, pushing yourself away from the edge of the table anyway.

“Wanna do the honours?” he asked, arching an eyebrow as he nodded towards his boxers.

Resting one knee on the felt before the other, you shuffled closer until you found yourself sitting between his parted legs. The green felt rubbed roughly against his back, but Eddie didn’t seem to care too much about it when your soft hands trail up his thighs.

Your gaze was fixed on Eddie, studying and memorising every single twitch of his face as you skimmed your fingers against the cotton material of his boxers before pulling back again.

You reached behind and unclipped your bra, slowly pulling the straps down your arms until there was nothing to keep Eddie’s eyes from drinking you in. Just for the Hell of it, you threw the lacy material in his face with a smug grin spread across your lips.

The soft glow of the bar casted soft shadows across your exposed chest, highlighting every dip and curve. His dark brown eyes are completely on your breasts, commuting each detail to memory – perfect, with a beautiful roundness to them, and hardened nipples that nearly drove him insane. Eddie’s palms itched to touch, to feel their weight in his ringed hands, and it took all of his self-control not to reach for you, to pin you down and cave in, to Hell with this stupid game between you.

But he waited, breath held, for you to make the next move as he did his best to keep that confident, stupid smirk on his face.

Eddie’s eyes pulled away from your breasts to the red lacy bra that had fallen onto his chest. “You know I’m keeping this, right?”

“You get souvenirs and I get disappointment?” you muttered, leaning forwards. “Doesn’t sound fair to me.”

“Only disappointment that you won’t make it fit, sweetheart.”

Anticipation coursed through your veins as your fingers grazed his hips before curling around the waistband of his boxers. Eddie lifted his hip silently, letting you slide his boxers down his thighs until he kicked it somewhere to the floor behind you.

The cool air fanned his bare skin, raising goosebumps in its wake – or maybe that was just the weight of your parted lips and gaze fixed on his cock.

Jesus fucking Christ.

The bastard hadn’t been lying.

There was absolutely no fucking reason for someone’s dick – especially Eddie’s, of all fucking people – to be this big.

He was long, a little thicker than your wrist, and the tip of his cock, swollen and desperate, was a beautiful shade of pink that matched his lips almost perfectly. And his balls, holy– They were absolutely perfect. Big, and round, and slightly droopy, beautifully adorned with a bush of tight, dark curls.

The lack of reaction – which, frankly was a reaction in and on itself – merely made Eddie’s smug grin widen as you kept staring dumbly at his cock.

“So, what do you say, sweetheart?” He chuckled lowly, reaching for one of your thighs. He trailed a finger along the seam of your inner thigh, delighting in the way you shuddered. “Is it gonna fit? Or is it too big for you?”

“I–”

“It’s okay if it doesn’t,” he reassured mockingly.

The tension between you stretched taut and electric as he guided your hand to his aching length. Eddie buckled into your palm, a low groan escaping his lips at the touch of your hand – so much softer, warmer, smaller than his.

“Shut up,” was all you could muster, although it sounded low and unconvincing.

You gave him a few curious flicks of the wrist before letting go of him again. The absence of your touch was infuriating, but the feeling quickly melted away as he watched, transfixed, as you shuffled to straddle him.

“Make me, sweetheart.”

You hovered right above his cock, and impatiently pulled your panties to the side while you lined him up with your free hand. Keeping your gaze fixed on Eddie’s, you swallowed hard before taking a deep breath and sinking down on his cock in one quick move.

A strangled gasp tore from your throat – or was it Eddie’s? – as you enveloped him in your slick heat. His hands immediately reached for your hips, his head mercilessly falling against the hard pool table.

“Jesus–” His breath hitched.

You let out a broken moan as you gave yourself good few seconds to get used to the forced stretch – he’s too long and too fucking thick, hitting you in all the right places while also making you feel completely impaled.

Biting your lip to keep the broken moans from escaping, you slowly began moving your hips in languid rolls. Each drag of your slick walls along his aching cock sent shockwaves rippling through you. You’re drowning in the feeling, lost to everything but the addictive pressure of his swollen tip hitting your cervix each time you sank back down.

“I– Fuck,” you whimpered, reaching for his shoulders to steady yourself.

“Son of a–” he gritted out, voice wrecked with need. He let out a strained chuckle while digging his fingers into your hips. “If you could only see yourself, sweetheart.”

Eddie’s gaze locked with yours, pupils blown wide and dark with desire.

“I-I can take it,” you whimpered, biting your lip when he rocked up into you, meeting your rhythm stroke for stroke. “S-see?”

“You for sure showed me, sweetheart.” He shot you that cocky smile you hated, moving your hips back and forth to help you. “I’m so upset I was wrong.”

“You’re so fucking i-insufferable,” you gritted out, voice wrecked with need.

The pool table beneath you creaked as Eddie’s hips pistoned frantically while he kept guiding you. He thrusted up into your slick pussy, meeting each roll of your hips with growing urgency. The wet, sticky sounds of his cock filling you filled the silent bar, obscene and thrilling.

“That’s it, baby,” he praised hoarsely. “You were made to ride my big, fucking cock, hm?”

The way he filled you to the brim made you feel hyper sensitive, and it’s too much and it fucking hurt, but holy shit did he feel incredibly good.

Eddie watched you through half-lidded eyes, drinking in the sight of your cock-drunk expression. Your breasts bounce with each impact of your bodies, hardened nipples just begging for attention. Leaning up, Eddie captured one in his mouth, suckling greedily while he kept thrusting up in the same pace. He growled into your cleavage, biting down.

“J-Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking wet.” He breathed as his eyes trailed down to where you were connected, watching in fascination at how you were practically drenching his cock. “You take me so fucking well. Greedy pussy gripping, hm?”

With a broken whimper, you pushed Eddie back down onto the felt table, and sped up your movements. The tiny curls around the base of his cock brushed against your swollen clit with every roll of your hips, pulling broken moan after broken moan. He was balls deep inside of you, hitting that special spot, determined to melt your brain until you couldn’t even form thoughts anymore.

Eddie’s cheeks were impossibly flushed as he stared up at you with half-lidded eyes as his tongue slipped out from between his lips. You leaned forwards, digging your nails into his shoulders as you smashed your lips against his for a messy kiss of spit and clanking teeth.

“I’m c-close, Eds,” you panted against his neck, teeth grazing his sensitive skin. “S-so fucking close.”

“Already, sweetheart?” Eddie scoffed, punctuating the question with sharp thrusts. “Fucking do it then, soak my cock.”

He ground against your sensitive spots, determined to push you over the precipice as his fingers found your swollen clit, stroking it with firm, purposeful circles. His own lips dropped open, a whiny groan slipping past his lips when you whined, loud and needy – he couldn’t help it, not when you looked like this.

Arching your back and crying out his name, you kept taking every deliciously painful thrust he gave you and, in return, you made him squirm under you with every clench of your pussy. He matched the tight circles he drew with his thumb to the quick snap of your hips, feeling the friction burning in your veins until your orgasm finally snapped.

“E-Eddie! Fuckfuckfuck.” You came hard with a loud cry of his name, soaking his cock as your thighs jerked. Distantly, you could feel a slick gush trail down to Eddie’s hips, sticky and addictive.

Eddie watched your body tremble before tensing, hips frozen against his as you threw your head back with a broken cry. His pubes tickle the inside of your thighs just right,

Frantically, he thrusted up, again and again, your body bouncing with every move. His grip tightened around your thighs, nails leaving crescent impressions in your soft skin.

“W-where do you want me, sweetheart?”

“I-inside, Eds,” you pleaded, high and desperate. “P-please, I need it. Fill me up.”

“Like you’re not filled enough already,” he scoffed against your lips. “Fucking take it then.”

Pleasure crested sharp and urgent, with one more thrust, two– then bliss exploded through him, stealing his breath and scattering coherent thought. You let him bite your lip while he throbbed and spilled into you, filling you to the brim until he’s practically covered in his own seed.

You slumped forwards, burying your face in the crook of his neck as it took you a good minute or two to come back down to earth. Eddie gave your hip a lazy squeeze, a contented sigh escaping him while his other hand drifted slowly up and down your bare back. His calloused fingertips traced absent-minded circles against your skin as he tried to steady his breathing.

Eventually, you pushed yourself up just enough to look at him. Your eyes met his, still slightly glassy, and you swallowed hard before a small, almost sheepish smile tugged at the corners of your mouth.

“So…” you started softly, only for the rest of the sentence to die somewhere between your brain and your mouth.

“So,” Eddie echoed with a tired chuckle, his thumb lazily brushing against your hip. The silence that followed wasn’t nearly as awkward as you’d expected; if anything, it felt strangely comfortable. “That was definitely… worth the wait.”

Eddie’s grin wasn’t nearly as cocky anymore; it had softened into something you’d never seen directed at you before. Or maybe it always had been, and maybe you’d just never noticed it before.

“You…” You swallowed, suddenly finding it much harder to get the words out than you’d expected. “You make it sound like this wasn’t just about proving a point.”

Eddie’s gaze wandered across your face before settling on your eyes again, the corner of his mouth twitching into the smallest of smiles. “Because it’s wasn’t. Not really.”

The words were spoken so matter-of-factly that they almost caught you off guard.

Truth be told, it wasn’t as though the thought had never crossed your mind – because it had. More than once, actually, if you were being completely honest with yourself.

Somewhere between lazy movie nights, sharing his bed after one too many drinks, lingering hugs that lasted a second too long, and countless inside jokes that blurred the line between friendship and flirting, you’d wondered what it would be like to kiss him.

Actually crossing that line, though… you’d never imagined it would happen because neither of you knew when to shut up.

Eddie let out a quiet breath through his nose, his thumb brushing another slow circle against your hip. “Didn’t think you’d ever look at me like that,” he admitted.

You looked at him for a long moment before a quiet laugh escaped you.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?”

“What did I do now?” His eyebrows pulled together in mock confusion.

“Instead of telling me about…” You gestured vaguely between the two of you. “…whatever this is, you spent the last three months talking about how dick was in the hopes I’d just cave.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh, averting his eyes away from you. “Sounds pretty stupid when you say it out loud.”

“Because it is stupid,” you chuckled. “And so are you.”

A tired groan slipped past his lips as he pushed himself up, not caring if the remnants of your activities stained the green felt of the pool table beneath him. The hand on your back was warm as he trailed it up to cradle your cheek.

“So…” he trailed off, his voice quieter than before. “Do you wanna–”

“Give this a shot?” you finished for him, your eyebrows lifting ever so slightly.

Your gaze drifted slowly across his face, as though you were trying to commit every freckle and crooked smile to memory. By the time your eyes had found his again, your expression had softened.

“Yeah.” You held his gaze for a long moment before your smile grew a fraction wider. “I think I’d be pretty stupid not to.”

permanent tag list? just ask!

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ @sespe08 @donchanoo @whitakerstorm @julxsxx @micheledawn1975 @flow33didontsmoke @lnnn1n @daddyhetfield @lananabanana42

[mistysblueboxstuff]

kept thinking this guy would be fun to paint so here you go xD

[vexheart]

[vexheart]

[eliyahu613]

this tweet. but for tumblr

[dashaibo]

And what, pray tell, is so wrong with that? Must a king lower himself to the vocabulary of insects? Must an academiac explain his reasoning to kindergartners? There is no shame in knowledge nor is there in verbosity. Quite the opposite, they are to be celebrated. But I guess this is the world we are forced to inhabit. This world... This planet, teeming with life and all its infinite possibilities. And you would dare dilute it, so that a simpleton's mind could comprehend it? I will not stand for this. No more shall a man be judged for his might, his ambition, his intellect. No more shall we look down on those who propose a mere thought experiment about owning a human pec9sdjv0 c9i2ewokhndvoi adsjvci uwqeowdsxujvnli ufdsiuljfcniu ofeidcvjpc9nUIODSuljvniuwqopisafjvp985erioewaudJHB9jrg8frjuv8ar9jvuw08rd9vujq35g89spdujigk[0e9ravjik0rvu9jq54w8yvh r8og;af9ukjgmoiaelgurj9g8zboifyhvlo8fivujawp89 OC:Ivjare0sd9oizl

[semicolonthefifth]

Please leave the mall, you're making a scene.

[dashaibo]

You won't... Keep me... from Hot Topic... forever...

[maladaptive-daydreamer-23]

Vixen's Final Refrain

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Mal's Notes: You guys, I'm so sorry this one took so long, life has been... crazy. I haven't had near the same amount of free time to write that I normally have... It's been nuts and this fic spiraled out of my control. That being said, at some points you may be asking, "Mal, is that even physically possible? Does physics allow for that?" I can assure you, the answer is yes. 😏😉

Love,

Mal ❤️

P.S. Please excuse the massive text blocks throughout this... tumblr hates me and only allows 1000 text blocks per post.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, DDNE (for violence), Canon typical violence, eventual smut (it's in there I promise), p in v sex, vaginal fingering, Oral sex both F and M receiving, shower shenanigans, interesting positions, unprotected sex... (i think this might be considered a breeding kink) angst, so much angst, fluff,

Additional Tags: Happy Ending.

Credits: Thank you so much to the loves of my life, @theghostofcosmichorrorpast @cringeiknow @snailsinamarchingband You make life so much funnier, especially in the comments of the beta doc.

WC: 25.3k

AO3

Mal's Masterlist

Not knowing was killing him. 

Not knowing where you were, or what you were doing. Not knowing if you were safe at any given moment, or if the next time someone came into his office they’d be there to tell him you were dead. He flinched every time his phone rang, every time Strauss called him to her office, or she came down to his. 

Aaron was miserable. 

But he lived and breathed for your letters. 

The first one was short and sweet, just two paragraphs. 

Dear Tomcat, 

I’ve made it to my first nest. They told me I can spruce it up as soon as they get my finances all sorted out. It’s cute, a little bare, but cute. I don’t know when you’ll get this, but I miss you already. This sucks. I keep thinking about how long this could take, and I have to remind myself that our friends accomplish the impossible on a daily basis. Maybe I’ll be home before Christmas… Who knows? They tell me I can’t sign or address any of these letters. No names, locations, times or dates. Just in case. So code names it is. 

I have to cut this short, the Marshals are literally sitting here waiting on me to finish this letter before they leave. I already made them stop on the way here so I could buy paper, a pen and an envelope… So I feel like I’m being an inconvenience. (Also I made a big deal about being hungry a few miles in because Strauss interrupted dinner.) I just wanted you to know that I’m safe, the place I’m staying is nice, and I miss you so much already. Tell the others I’ll write them the next time I get a chance. 

  Missing you, 

Sweetheart

He’d gotten it a week after you’d left, so it didn’t bring him much comfort as you’d been on your own for that long. The Marshal who’d brought it to him had apologized that it had been so late, but she’d assured him that you’d made every check in call on the burner they’d given you. In fact, she’d just spoken to you that morning. She had the compassion to sit there and wait as he wrote a response. She’d even explained that you and she had worked out a dead-drop system so that people wouldn’t see you together so much. So that had become his life, wake up without you, smile for Jack (who was once again his only reason to do so), go to work, work this case like his life depended on it, work other cases like normal, field questions from the team, and wait for your letters.  

By your eighth letter, you’d been gone for two months. 

Two months of not knowing where you were, how you were doing, if you were truly okay or just talking a big game for him in your letters. 

Hey there Tomcat,

I took up running this week just to get out of the nest, I know what you’re thinking, ‘You, running? Yeah right!’ Well you’d be wrong. I am, in fact, doing it. Figured I should get my stamina up so I can keep up with you when I come home… would be embarrassing to be outlasted by an old man. Even one as fit as you. That and boredom does funny things to a girl. 

Like last night, I got bored… and restless. So I ran out to the corner store and made a purchase—of the fun variety—don’t worry I was packing and the sun hadn’t gone down yet. When I came back I put that purchase to very good use while thinking about the twenty four hours we spent holed up in my apartment. It only made me miss you more. The purchase doesn’t make me see God like you do. Truly a travesty. Alas, I will survive. 

I watched a documentary about whale sharks a few days ago, it was very interesting. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll hear all about it from The Good Doctor in the next few days. I recommended it to him in my recent letter, and you know him… He’ll watch it, just so he can respond to me about it. Then he’ll educate the rest of you with fun facts for the next week. You’re welcome! *Evil cackle here* 

I miss you all desperately, I find myself doing things just because it reminds me of you all. I did find an MMA gym, like you told me to, being there reminds me of DM. I go out for retail therapy every weekend, I rarely buy anything but it makes me feel closer to the girls. It still doesn’t taste as good as his, but I make Papa Pasta’s recipe every Sunday night. He sends me a new one in every letter, but the one he gave me when I left is still my favorite. 

Did you know that I absolutely abhor cooking? Hate it! Baking? Sure! You mix some things together and throw it in the oven for a given time. No guess work. But cooking… ughhh. I suppose I’d have to learn eventually and now is as good a time as any, I did intend on having children someday. Fast food and take out is probably not very nutritious for little bodies… (or grown bodies but I’m not that concerned about it) 

I might get a job, just to stave off the boredom. Maybe waitressing or something? I really only have the skill set for two jobs. Neither of them is a good option for me right now though. Both of them got me into this mess. So here we are. 

Oh, I have to go! I forgot I made a hair appointment! The Marshals said it would be good to keep changing my appearance. I was blonde last month. I’m thinking I might go red this time. Like natural red, not stripper red. However… no I’m just kidding! I was actually thinking of going dark and adding silver highlights throughout to make myself appear a bit older. I’ll let you know how that goes! 

Love, 

Sweetheart

He’d been so busy laughing at your antics, that he’d almost missed it. 

Love. 

You’d signed it with love.

It wasn’t quite the same as I love you, but it was enough to make his heart race. 

Your fourteenth letter had come when you’d been gone almost four months. 

Hey Tomcat, 

Missing you a bit more today. I am so lonely here. I can’t wait to come home. Tell me something good? I could really use a pick me up.

Got the blues, 

Sweetheart

It was more of a note than a letter, and it worried him. 

Then you’d gone quiet for weeks. 

The team had caught him checking suspicious deaths and homicides all over the country, even though he knew the Marshals would notify him if you were hurt or killed. They hadn’t judged him, in fact, they'd made a map. Each of them had a region of the U.S. to check for any sign of you. They each checked daily—religiously—but nothing. For six weeks everything was clear and there was no sign of you. No sign was a good sign. But then one day Spencer made such a commotion in the bullpen that it could have only been about you. 

“Hotch!” He yelped, “Hotch!” 

He stood up so quickly that his chair had rolled halfway across the room and slammed into Anderson—who just happened to be walking through—then he tripped over his own ankle and stumbled into Morgan who stabilized him quickly. Once righted, he was running through the bullpen and up the stairs. Dave had come out of his office, the others were all standing and even Penelope made an appearance. He came stumbling up the stairs and caught himself on the doorframe where he panted briefly before he began to stutter, a string of syllables that didn’t make any sense when put together. 

“Reid.” Aaron said sternly. “Breathe.” 

Spencer took a gasping breath, and then another. 

“Now talk.” 

“I think I found her.” Spencer breathed. Aaron felt the whole world cave in around him. He stood on unsteady legs. 

“Is she…?” He didn’t really know how to finish that sentence. 

Dead? Alive? Hurt? Safe?

God he was clinging to the words safe and alive like a life line. Desperate for them to be true. 

“I don’t know.” Spencer answered. “I’m not even sure if it's her but… I found an article from a local news station in Alabama. There was a triple homicide in a small town, the police are claiming gang violence…”

“But?” Aaron asked nervously. 

“But, witnesses claim a young woman—who has yet to be identified—had been living in the house where the bodies were found. The deceased are all men, late twenties to mid thirties. They’re not from the area, and they were killed with a nine millimeter weapon. Two of them didn’t even make it past the threshold of the home before they were killed, the third was found in the kitchen. Several hand guns with their fingerprints and DNA were found with the bodies. A woman who’d been walking her dog at the time of the shooting said she saw the young woman who had been living in the house flee the scene on foot. Unharmed.” Spencer explained, “But there’s no description of the woman because the police deny her existence.” 

“When did this happen?” Aaron asked. 

“Five weeks ago…” Spencer murmured. 

“It’s her.” He confirmed, “It has to be. I want everyone on this, we don’t stop making calls until we have answers, I don’t care if we have to fly out to Alabama. We don’t rest until we know she’s okay.”

Five weeks earlier…

Apparently, rock bottom had a basement… 

And you were living in it. 

They’d found you. 

You’d seen the first of them at a coffee shop, then again at the grocery store and that time he had a friend. You’d next seen them both while out for your run that night at the park. With a third man. 

Once is chance, twice is coincidence, thrice is a pattern. 

You were being followed. 

You did everything Emily had taught you—used every trick in her playbook—but you couldn’t shake them. 

You knew that if they’d been following you all day, they knew where you were staying. So you weren’t hurting anything by going back there, to give yourself an advantage. They were standing across the street, next to a charcoal grey 4Runner that you’d not noticed before. 

Upon closer study, you recognized one of them. He was a known enforcer for the ring. They were definitely there to kill you then. They were probably only waiting for the sun to go down. 

That was their mistake. 

You may have been alone, but you weren’t helpless. 

You barricaded the doors at different strengths to create a time delay, just in case they all came through a different door. You pushed the couch in front of one, a dresser in front of the second and simply hooked a kitchen chair under the knob of the third. Emily had taught you to put something breakable on the edge of whatever you used to barricade the door. So you had put a plate on each one, balancing them precariously so that the slightest movement would send them crashing to the floor.

 The house was laid out in such a way that you could see all three doors from your spot behind the long island in the galley style kitchen. You were using the island itself as cover, crouching behind it, with every weapon you had laid out on the floor in a neat line next to you. There were four; your Glock 19 service weapon, and two more nine millimeters that Aaron had insisted you take with you—which you were so thankful for now—and your own back up, which was a small caliber pocket sized semi automatic pistol.  

You had sent the Marshals an SOS with the burner they’d given you… but you knew there was no way they’d make it to you in time. 

You were on your own.

For the next hour you watched the sunlight drag across the floor, waiting as the shadows grew long and dark. 

Then night fell. 

You didn’t know when they’d come for you. If they would wait until your neighbors were long asleep, or if they’d come now, when everyone was too busy with dinner, showers and other evening routines to notice three men sneaking around in the dark. 

It didn’t matter.

Your hands trembled as you checked each gun one last time, which made it significantly harder. 

You went over your plan, step by step, every possible outcome, situation, and variation. 

It was a plan you’d formed by asking yourself exactly what each member of your team would do, then you’d taken the answers and meshed them all together. 

You just prayed that it’d work. 

The silence was almost suffocating as you waited… but when you heard the tell tale scratch of a lock pick, you nearly jumped out of your skin. 

Your heart pounded so loudly all you could hear was the drumming of it. 

“Listen to me for a second.” Aaron murmured, taking your chin in his hand and looking you in the eyes. “If the time comes when they find you, and running isn’t an option, your fight or flight response will kick in. You’ve never been through something like this before. It isn’t like facing an unsub, it isn’t going to feel the same… There will be no one to protect but yourself, and you will be all alone facing people whose sole purpose is to kill you. You don’t know what your response to that kind of stress will be until it happens. If you start to freeze, I need you to remember how to snap yourself out of it.” 

You could hear him as clearly as if he were there with you, see him in the back of your mind—with the earmuffs and dorky looking safety glasses he’d had on in the shooting range—looking at you so intensely you thought lasers might’ve come out of his eyes. 

“First, If you’re in a situation where you don’t have time for anything else, you cause yourself pain if you have to. Shock your system into reacting differently.” He instructed, then put his hand on your abdomen, just over your diaphragm. “If you’ve got more than a minute, you breathe deep—from right here—in through your nose and you hold it, out through your mouth after four, repeat, and your head should start to clear. Go over everything you know to be true about the situation inside your head and find the easiest solution. Walk yourself through it, step by step, your brain won’t have time to panic if you give it a job to do… Do you understand?” 

You nodded, that yes, you did understand. Then you started to pull away, to go back to the repetition of drawing from your ankle, then your thigh, then your waist and your chest. He held you firm. 

“Promise me that you will shoot to kill. They will not spare you, so do not spare them. You do what is necessary to survive.” He demanded. 

You stared up at him with wide eyes. 

“Aaron…” You hesitated, the last—and only—time you had shot another person—an unsub—you hadn’t shot to kill, only to injure, to subdue. The guilt had haunted you for weeks. 

He knew that.

“Promise me.” He had seemed desperate, there was wild unchecked fear in his eyes where only a moment before there had been determination. “You cannot afford to do anything less.”

“I promise.” You whispered. 

“Good.” 

His words were what brought you back to yourself. 

You took a deep breath, filling your lungs until you felt your diaphragm start to burn as it stretched—1, 2, 3, 4—in through your nose, and—1, 2, 3, 4—out through your mouth.

The facts were that you were alone. You came to terms with that as you took another deep breath and reached for your service weapon, gripping it firmly in your palm. 

There was nothing you could do to change that. 

Three men were about to break in and they would try to kill you. The only thing you could do about that… was kill them first. You turned to face the door where the sound had originated from, and took another breath. 1, 2, 3, 4.

It was the door with the kitchen chair. 1, 2, 3, 4. 

Your gun was aimed and ready when the door knob turned. The chair gave you an extra 30 seconds. 

1, 2, 3, 4.

The plate fell to the floor and shattered with a crash. 

1, 2, 3, 4. 

The door flew open, he’d kicked it in. 

Gun. He had a gun. 

You pulled the trigger seven times.

He dropped to the ground, half of him inside the house, the other half not. 

You looked away.

The others knew you were ready for them now and they were done being subtle. 

A rock flew through the window next to the second door, smashing the glass. Then a booted foot kicked in the rest of it as a man climbed through. 

You saw the shine of gunmetal in his fist as his upper body came into view. 

That was all you needed to see. 

You emptied the mag on him, pulling the trigger until it clicked and the slide locked in the open position. 

He fell across the window sill, hanging there limply like a ragdoll. Blood was dripping to the floor… he was dead. 

Your ears started ringing, your chest was tight. 

Breathe. 

In 1, 2, 3, 4.

Out 1, 2, 3, 4. 

Wait. 

Where was the third man?

Something stung your arm and glass shattered in the cabinet slightly in front of you. 

Turning around you saw that the third man had snuck in—stepping over the body of the first—and was waiting just inside the door with his gun pointed in your direction. 

You went to fire, but realized you were empty. Ducking behind the counter just as he pulled the trigger, you grabbed your second gun and steadied yourself. 

Bullets peppered the other side of the counter, which–luckily–was thick enough to protect you. You picked up the other two guns, stuffing the smallest one into your bra and the second one into your waist band. The empty one you left on the floor. 

From his position, he couldn’t see as you crouched and made your way out of the kitchen–carefully avoiding the casings strown around you–and into the adjacent dining room, where you took up a position behind the wall. Just beside the doorframe. 

You were panting, your heart was racing, blood rushing in your ears. 

1, 2, 3, 4. 

1, 2, 3, 4. 

You closed your eyes. 

Crickets were chirping in the yard, the wind was blowing—you could hear it in your neighbors wind chimes—but inside, the house was silent. 

Until you heard the floor creak, then the crunch of broken glass, the click of a fresh mag being loaded, the slide and snap of a round being chambered. 

He was coming. 

You heard his footsteps–light, but not silent–making their way through the living room and toward the kitchen. 

He didn’t know you’d moved, didn’t know you had three more guns and extra rounds… but if he were smart, he’d count on it. 

The dining room connected to the hallway your bedroom was in, which in turn connected to the living room. 

Your feet were silent as you crept through to the hall and waited there until he was nearly in the kitchen. Then you ducked into the living room and crouched behind the recliner. You could see him now—as you peeked around the side of the chair—his back was to you, and he had almost made it around the island to your former position. 

“What the fuck?!” He hissed as he realized you were no longer there. 

You stood from your crouch and took aim. 

But you would not shoot a man in the back. 

“Over here, fucker.” 

He whipped around in your direction, and it was the last thing he ever did.

Before you did anything else, you checked all three bodies… just to be sure they were really dead. When you were certain of that fact, you went to the room you’d considered yours for the last five months and grabbed your bag. The one you’d never unpacked, the one that sat just inside the door, ready to be taken at a moment's notice. It held clothes, shoes, a new burner phone, and the manila envelope JJ had given you. As well as the letter’s from your team. Then you made your way back to the kitchen, picked up your empty service weapon and put it in the bag. You called the Marshals as you walked out the door, stepping over the first dead man as you went. 

“I’m alive.” Was the first thing you said when your contact answered. “They’re not.”

“We’re almost there, just fifteen minutes out.” She responded, “Are you hurt?” 

You didn’t actually know the answer to that. So you took a moment to check for injuries that the adrenaline was still concealing. Blood had bloomed on your sleeve. You pulled your sleeve up and saw that it was just a graze. 

“I’m fine.” You answered her. “Tell my team that I’m okay. I’ll make contact when I’m sure I’m safe.” 

“Agent, stay put. We’ll be there to get you in just a few minutes.” She instructed. 

“I can’t do that.” You disagreed. “I don’t know if there are more of them, but they know where I am. That may not be the program’s fault, but if it is… I’m safer on my own.” 

“Agent! Don’t-” You hung up on her, mid sentence, and dropped the old burner on the side walk. 

Then you disappeared into the night.

Aaron was going to lose his mind. 

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU LOST HER?” 

Derek was shouting at the Marshal on the other end of the line. 

“We didn’t lose her. She went off grid… on purpose. We’ve been looking for her for five weeks… apparently she’s really good at disappearing.” The man said. 

“Five weeks that we could have been helping you look for her!” Prentiss chimed in. 

They were both irate, the whole team was. Aaron most of all. Not that you’d gone off on your own, he understood why you’d done it. Or he understood the way your mind worked enough to put together your reasoning… If you were the only person who knew where you were, then the only person who could give you up was yourself. Not to mention they’d given you everything you needed to pull it off. He was almost proud of you. Garcia had been looking for hours and there was no trace of you. You’d pulled all the money from your actual bank accounts while still in Alabama, everyone already knew you were there. There was no harm in that now. Then you’d gone completely radio silent. Using cash for everything, and never leaving anything of yourself behind. It was like trying to find an unsub… An unsub?

An Unsub!

“I’ll be in touch with your superiors.” He said and hung up the phone. 

“I was not through with them yet!” Derek complained. 

“Neither am I, but I just realized we’re doing this all wrong.” Aaron muttered. 

“What do you mean?” Emily asked. 

“We know her, we know her as a person and an agent. But not a victim. Or… an unsub.” He said.  

“You want us to profile her?” JJ asked. “That feels… invasive.”

Everyone turned and looked at her with various degrees of incredulity. 

“But given the circumstances…” She murmured. 

“Okay, if she were an unsub, where would we start?” Rossi prompted. 

“Well usually we’d start with victimology… but she is the victim.” Reid pondered that for a moment before continuing. “Unless we treat the men she killed as victims… but we can’t because they’re the aggressors here. So we treat her as if she is a victim.” 

In the last several hours they’d gained access to the actual crime scene reports from the safe house in Alabama. The pictures were splayed out on the round table. 

“The question is, why did she run? In Alabama, the stand your ground law makes everything she did perfectly legal. They had weapons they kicked in her door and broke her window. Even if the police had arrived before the marshals got there to clear everything up, she would have been fine. Safer even! Especially if she’d had her creds laid out where the cops could see them! I don’t get it.” Morgan grumbled. But Aaron knew the answer to that question. 

“She ran to protect us, and the case. She knew after that happened—and she clearly was no longer safe in WITSEC—that we would try to bring her home and protect her ourselves. Which she believes would be too dangerous and jeopardize the case.” He murmured. “What we need to figure out is where she would go. Where would she feel safest and in control? She only had about three thousand in her account before she pulled it all out, that won’t last long. Not if she’s using it for travel, food, shelter and everything else she might need. Reid, how long would that last her?” 

Reid barely thought about it for a couple seconds. 

“Assuming she’s been staying in hotels, she’d already be out.” He stated, “However, if she were able to find an apartment to rent that takes cash under the table, bought cheap food and utilities… She’d make it about three months, maybe four before she had to get a job or give up and come home. She’d be safer on her own if she kept moving though, so I am going to say hotels make more sense. Especially since she’d want to get out of Alabama and get as far away as possible.” 

“Well, she can’t leave the country, not without us knowing about it. JJ had Penelope cross all the flight records with the identities she gave her. She didn’t take a train either. Cabs would be too expensive… So a bus line would make sense. She could travel from coast to coast in just over two days without having to stop overnight.” Emily pondered, then asked, “Reid, how much would that cost her?” 

“Anywhere from two hundred to six hundred dollars, but she’d go as cheap as possible so I’d guess at two hundred.” He rattled off. 

“She wouldn’t go anywhere she knows the ring has a presence.” Rossi said, “So we can rule out any city that came up in our investigation before she went undercover.” 

Aaron had this nagging thought in the back of his mind, and it took him a minute to pin it down.

“I might get a job, just to stave off the boredom. Maybe waitressing or something? I really only have the skill set for two jobs. Neither of them is a good option for me right now though. Both of them got me into this mess. So here we are.”

You wouldn’t… would you? He thought about it for a long minute and came to the conclusion that yes, you would. You might even do it for fun. 

If it kept you off the street… he wouldn’t complain. 

“We need to check the strip clubs.” Every head in the room turned his way. 

“What makes you say that?” Derek asked. Aaron sighed, dragging a hand down his face. 

“Something she said to me in a letter… about only having the skill set for two jobs.” He shook his head. “And if she’s going to need money soon… what better way to get cash without a digital trail?” 

“She’s qualified for way more than either profiling or stripping…” Emily scowled. 

“I’m well aware of that.” Aaron scowled back at her. “She meant it as a joke… I hope. However, stripping is the only thing she has experience in that doesn’t require a social security number, a degree and a W-4. There’s anonymity in it.” 

“How am I supposed to track that?” Garcia asked. “If she’s left no digital trace of herself I can’t find her.” 

Aaron didn’t have an answer to that, he didn’t have an answer to any of this. 

“Aaron…” Dave said gently from across the table, getting his attention. “You told me to remain objective… and that's just as hard for me as it is for everyone else—except you—but those were the orders you gave me. Would you like to hear my objective professional opinion?” 

No… He already knew what Dave was going to say… and he was feeling a little petulant about it. However, Aaron knew he’d assigned him this role for a reason. He gave a slight nod of confirmation. 

“We are not going to find her until she wants to be found. You remember how hard it was to find Emily when she went AWOL…” Dave hedged. 

“I worked for Interpol though, undercover on an arms dealer bust. That’s a whole different playing field and I had a lot of training, she only had a day.” Emily reminded him. 

“Yes, but the circumstances were different. You had a different goal than she has. You wanted to end things before the rest of us got caught up in it. But we got her caught up in this… and while she probably feels like she’s protecting us… her main goal is to disappear and wait it out.” Dave disagreed. “And you taught her how. You all did. She said she’d make contact when it was safe for her to do so… let’s give her the chance. We know she’s alive. We don’t need to know where she is, that only puts her in danger.”

He was right.

Aaron hated that he was right—and so it seemed, did everyone else.

“So what?” Spencer asked apprehensively, “We just work the case until we make the big arrests and we can bring her home?” 

The room was silent. No one wanted to answer. 

“That’s exactly what we do.” Aaron murmured. 

He spent the rest of the day in his office, scouring over every single detail of every piece of evidence they had. Just trying to put something together, anything that would lead them to the ring leader. 

He didn’t leave the office until nine. 

He stopped briefly in the lobby of his apartment building to pick up the mail, it’d be bills, and nothing more so he didn’t bother to look through it. Just made his way upstairs and quietly let himself inside. Jess was sitting on the couch watching the nine o’clock news, which would be going off soon. Jack was already in bed. Dinner was on the table. Jess was a saint.

“Was Jack good today?” He asked as he made his way into the kitchen. 

“Isn’t he always?” She quipped, turning to rest her arms on the back of the couch. He barely found it in him to smile. 

“I guess he is.” He murmured. 

“Bad day?” She asked. He just nodded. 

“Wanna talk about it?” She offered, getting up and following him to the table. 

“I do actually… but unfortunately it's classified.” He sighed, tossing the stack of mail down on the table where it scattered slightly, then sinking down into his chair. 

“Oh… well, if there were something else… that’s not classified… I’m a very good listener…” She hinted. 

At what? Aaron didn’t know, and he wasn’t in the mood to sort it out, so he started shoveling food onto his plate. 

“Like what?” He asked anyway, humoring her because he knew she would continue whether he asked or not. 

“Like what happened between you and that girl you were seeing?” She pried. 

He groaned. 

“We’re… still together… but I can’t talk about it.” He shrugged. 

“Oh don’t you dare try to tell me your love life is classified, Aaron!” Jess exclaimed in mock outrage. “You’ve been moping around here for five months! I’m worried.” 

He laughed then, a broken, awful sound that had Jess shrinking in her chair. 

“It is classified, actually. She is currently classified. Legally. She’s in witness protection—or she’s supposed to be—and I’m living a nightmare all over again! And you are the one person I actually want to tell, because you’d actually understand, but I cannot tell you anything because it’s fucking classified!” He ranted frustratedly, his voice hardening to a tone he never used in this home. Definitely not with Jack and Jess. She was staring at him—wide eyed—from across the table.

“Jess…” He murmured, softening toward her and reaching a hand across the table. “I’m so sorry, I’m… it doesn’t matter, there’s no excuse. I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way. No matter what I’m dealing with.” 

She took his hand. 

“It’s alright Aaron.” She said quietly, forgiveness in her eyes. “If it ever becomes unclassified I’ll be right here, ready to hear you out.” 

Aaron felt like he might cry. So he looked down at his plate. 

“Thank you.” He whispered. 

“She’ll be okay…” Jess whispered back. “I mean, I don’t know the details, obviously. But I have to believe that the same horror won’t strike twice. So she will be okay.” 

He nodded. 

“She can take care of herself, and there is no one there for her to protect but herself. That gives her an advantage that- that Haley… didn’t have. She’ll be okay.” He said, and he wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince. 

She let him eat in silence for a long while before she spoke again. 

“That’s strange…” She muttered, almost to herself. 

“What’s that?” He asked, looking up. 

“This letter.” She said, holding it up to the light. “Someone must have misaddressed it, and there’s no return address.” 

“I don’t know…” He shrugged, going back to his food. 

“I wonder who Tomcat is?” She murmured curiously. Aaron dropped his fork, the rattle of it against his plate startling Jess. 

“What did you say?” He breathed. 

“I wonder who Tomcat is??” She repeated herself. Confusion all over her face. Aaron was around the table and at her side in seconds. 

“I need that.” He said, gently slipping it from between her fingers. 

“Okay?” She intoned. 

“It’s her. The letter is from her. I’m Tomcat, it's an inside joke… I… I’m sorry I really need to read this. She’d been missing for five weeks.” He mumbled. Saying more than he should in his haste to read your letter. 

“Oh my God.” Jess gasped. “Go ahead!” 

He made his way to the couch and tore into the envelope. 

Hey there Tomcat,

I know you must be… pretty mad at me right now… and I’m so sorry. I hate knowing that you’re probably worried sick over me, but I couldn’t afford to make contact until now. There was a fourth assailant, he never made it into the house. He followed me half way across the country before I lost him. (Do me a favor and give my tutor a raise or something, she earned it.) 

I’m safe now. I tricked the fucker and he got on a bus to New York, a bus that I was not on, I went the other direction. I wish I could tell you where… but you know I can’t. I can tell you that I’m settled, I spent the last of my cash on a cute little apartment, a lot like mine at home. Don’t worry, I have a plan and I intend to enact it tonight. (I can feel your brow furrowing from here, I said don’t worry you big softie. I’m fine.) 

I miss you everyday, I promise to keep writing letters. Even if you can’t write any in return. I’ll keep telling you all about my little adventures, because writing to you makes me feel like I’m actually talking to you. Like you’re really here somehow. 

I’ll be watching the news every chance I get, waiting for it to be safe for me to come home. I can’t wait to come home to you… I watch old press conferences of yours just to hear your voice. To see your face. I get excited when a new one pops up on the internet when I search your name. It's weird but it brings me comfort. I can’t wait to hear you tell me to come home. It’ll be the best day.  Be safe, I’ll write again soon.

Love, 

Sweetheart

This was dated a week ago. You were okay. 

You were alive. 

“She’s alive.” He whispered, barely louder than a breath. 

And then his shoulders were shaking, his hands trembling. A tear drop landed on the page. He was overcome with relief. A hand lit softly on his shoulder. He covered it with his own and let Jess offer him silent comfort as he sobbed. 

You missed Aaron. 

His letters had been the only thing you had to look forward to. Now you could only reread the old ones. You’d memorized them by now, and you could call them to memory as easily as Spencer recalled medieval poems he read once ten years ago. 

Dear Sweetheart,  

I miss you too. Work is quiet without you. I never thought a quiet office would feel like a bad thing… but it does. The fact that boredom has driven you to running concerns me. I like your other solution though… I can just hear the way you say my name as you fall apart. 

As for the Whale Sharks… There will be pay back for that, because you’re right, Reid did in fact regale us with facts about them… for days. It was so bad, Morgan actually went home and watched the documentary so that he could annoy Spencer by finishing his sentences correctly and taking the fun out of it. I’ve had to referee the two of them at least ten times this week because of it. 

Rossi asks me every week which recipe he should send you next. I’ll tell him he should make his instructions extra detailed from now on. I actually enjoy cooking, of course I have Jack so I did have to learn, but I do agree. Baking is easier, and more fun because Jack likes to help. I can’t wait for the day you get to meet him, as more than just a colleague of mine. He’ll adore you, I’m sure. 

Your past job experience may have gotten you into this mess… but you sure did look good doing it. I wouldn’t mind seeing you reprise that role in the future. As for your hair, stripper red would look great on you, red always looks great on you. However, I am of the opinion that it doesn’t matter what your hair looks like, or whether you have any at all. You’ll always be the prettiest girl in whatever room you’re in. Especially to me. 

Love, 

Tomcat

That one had been your favorite. Though you’d memorized them all, he always managed to make you smile and laugh… even on paper. You missed hearing from him more than anything. 

Speaking of reprising the role…

You were stripping again, this time though… it was to make ends meet.

But if this night got any worse… you swore you’d quit. 

There was another club just down the road, a club that would gladly take you on. You’d had just about enough of the bouncers here. They didn’t take care of the dancers, didn’t care to, they had nothing to hide. No illegal operations in the back rooms. Just the occasional stripper trying to make a few extra bucks in the parking lot, but as long as it wasn’t in the building, it wasn’t any of their business. They didn’t even care about the things that went on inside to be truthful. They only cared about the money, and about the customers the girls brought in. 

“Hey Kit?” Someone called, but you didn’t register it. “Kit Kat, you okay?”  

You were too busy trying to get your hair untangled from the rhinestones on your bra strap. 

“Ughhh! This fucking bra!” You cursed under your breath. 

“Here let me help.” A hand took your elbow and guided you over to a chair in the dressing room. You glanced up at Cinna, the most senior dancer at the club. (Cinna Buns if you were wondering… they liked food themed personas in this club for some reason.)

“Thanks, I hair-whipped a little too close to the sun I’m afraid.” You joked, and she gave a soft laugh. “I tried to get it out, but I only made it worse…” 

“You sure did…” She murmured, shaking her head as her fingers deftly separated the tiny tangles. She worked in silence for a few minutes, then… “You seem upset tonight…”

You sighed. 

“Had a bad interaction with a customer, nothing I can’t handle.” You muttered. 

“Is that all?” She asked. 

“No… but… It’s complicated.” You murmured, shrugging. 

“Well, on the bright side… It’s two o’clock, we’ve got an hour until close, and it’s Saturday night. Which means we aren’t open tomorrow!” She said cheerfully. “Don’t be so glum Kit Kat!” 

You hated that nickname. 

The identity you were using in this town was Kathrine Kittridge. You’d decided to use Kit as a Stripper persona because it was cutesy and a kit was a term for a fox pup, which reminded you of Vixen… which reminded you of Aaron. But the other girls had taken to calling you Kit Kat when you’d introduced yourself… It was the bane of your existence. 

And you’d been dealing with it for five months. 

That’s right, another five months had passed and you were still stripping in a small po-dunk town in the middle of nowhere Wyoming. You’d been the shiny new toy, and all the patrons couldn’t seem to get enough of you. They’d start making jokes about taking a bite out of you, and saying how Kit Kats were their favorite candy… 

Needless to say, it’d been a long five months with no end in sight. 

You could always pick up and move again. There was no point though. You were safe here. That’s all that mattered. Even if you hated it.

And you did hate it. 

“Yeah… that makes it so much better.” You muttered sarcastically. 

“Why don’t you go on home… Just sneak out the back, if anyone asks I’ll tell them I sent you home cause you got sick.” Cinna offered. 

“You would do that?” You asked. 

She nodded. 

“Girl, it's really not a big deal. Just go. Maybe Monday night will be better– Woah… What is going on there?” She was looking up at the tv mounted in the corner. 

A red banner was scrolling across the bottom of the screen that was playing a body cam clip of a SWAT team kicking in a door. Then it cut to a blonde reporter in a blue suit dress, she was standing on a sidewalk with a large group of reporters behind her. They were surrounding a podium. 

The banner read:

“Breaking News: Joint Investigation With DEA And FBI Lead To Major Raids in Connecticut.”

Your heart stopped. 

“Oh my god, turn that up! Where’s the remote?” You scrambled for it when you saw it laying on a vanity across the room. You turned the volume up to an ungodly volume, determined not to miss a single word.  

“Ladies and Gentleman, we’re coming to you live from the scene as The FBI is about to give a press conference in regards to several major raids they executed tonight in coordination with the DEA. Oh, here they come.” The reporter said, and the camera zoomed in on the podium. 

There he was. 

Looking exhausted, but every bit as good as the day you left. 

Aaron stepped up to the podium, JJ at his side and cleared his throat. 

“Early this morning, my team from the Behavioral Analysis Unit, along with a team from Organized Crime, and a team from the DEA made several key arrests in connection with a drug trafficking ring that we have been actively investigating for a little over a year now. That's all I can say at this time.” He said, and then he walked away. 

“Wait! Agent Hotchner! Agent Hotchner!?” The reporters called out. 

“We can’t answer any questions at this time. This is still an active case until trial, there will be an update once dates are set. For now we have witnesses to protect.” JJ said and then she followed him. 

“Oh my God…” You whispered. 

“You okay Kit?” Cinna asked. 

“No… yes? I- I don’t know…” You muttered. “Ya know what… I think I am gonna head out.” 

You hurried to put on street clothes and gathered all your things and then you made your way across the street and two blocks down. Where your apartment was located. 

You’d picked it specifically for its proximity to the club.

When you locked the door behind you, you leaned against it and sank to the floor. 

It was more important now than ever for you to lay low. All the initial arrests, and evidence would get thrown out without your testimony. Without those arrests and evidence… 

There was no case for the arrests made tonight. 

Which meant all someone needed to do to stop the trials… 

Was to kill you. 

It was time to move again. 

It had taken five more months but they’d finally done it. 

They’d gotten the confessions, signed affidavits, critical evidence and arrest warrants they needed to bring the ring to its knees. Now that they’d made the actual arrests…

He was one step closer to bringing you home. 

The only problem was, after the raid was over and they’d been sorting evidence, they found a dossier. 

A dossier about you.

They were still looking for you, and they’d done their research. 

They knew where you’d grown up, where you’d gone to college, where your apartment was (you wouldn’t be going back there now he’d make sure of that), the car you drove, and everything right down to the color of your eyes. 

And they’d put a hit out on you.

Not a public hit… which he would think was a good thing.

Except… 

They’d hired a professional. 

A career hitman. 

With way too many confirmed kills for Aaron’s comfort… and he’d never been caught. 

Apparently, after you’d killed three of their men so easily, and evaded the fourth as simply as you had, they’d decided you were worth the money this guy cost. 

He had a reward for information on you posted on the darknet. It had pictures of you from your time at the strip club. 

Garcia had taken it down multiple times… but he just kept putting it back up. So, she had started sending him random tips. 

The team had been looking for him for a week when Aaron had gotten a letter from you. 

Dear Tomcat, 

I got your message and I’m taking the appropriate measures. I think someone is after me. They were really close too… I don’t know how they could’ve found me. I have been laying low as dirt for five months. I’ve left no trace of myself anywhere. Whoever they are…

They’re good. 

I left my little hideaway before dawn the night I saw your press conference. I bought a police scanner when I moved there… out of boredom… You wouldn’t believe how entertaining that can be in a very small town in Wyoming. Yes, I was in WY, it was the most agonizing five months of my life. Anyway, I have a police scanner, and I was listening to it on my way out of town. They called in a structure fire… at my apartment. I’d only been gone for thirty minutes. They must’ve not seen me leave. 

The good thing is, I made it out, and I’m safe now. I made so many stops and so many detours it took me three days to get where I am now. It will not be an easy trail to follow. I still don’t know how they found me again to begin with. I was going by a false name, I didn’t sign anything, buy anything big or register anything to that name. I used cash for everything… I truly don’t know. It can’t possibly be these letters, I don’t ever put a return address. I guess I will just have to get a new place and only leave for food. Setting a trial date shouldn’t take that long? Right? I have plenty of cash, if it only takes a couple months… God I hope it only takes a couple months. I miss you so much. All of you, I didn’t even realize how important our team is to me… How much space they hold in my heart. Tell them how much I miss them? It's been so long… 

I check online everyday to see if trial dates have been set. I’ll be counting the days when they are. It’s getting late, and this hotel bed is calling my name. 

With all my love,

Sweetheart

Aaron had felt panic crawling up his spine, squeezing his heart, and flooding his brain. He took the letter to Dave immediately and the man’s face had paled visibly as he’d read it. 

“That’s too close of a call.” Rossi murmured. “We need to get her back here.” 

“We can’t.” Aaron whispered. “The only way to contact her successfully is to hold a press conference. If we do that, he’ll be watching too. He’ll know she’s coming home and he’ll be waiting.”

Dave threw his arms out wide and looked at Aaron in disbelief. 

“So what, we just leave her out there with no warning of what's coming for her?” He asked. 

Aaron ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. 

“I don’t see what other choice we have. They are both watching everything we put online and on television right now. Everything she has access to, he does as well.” Aaron explained. “The only choice we have is to wait for them both to come to us. She has managed to stay ahead of him this far and she didn’t even know he existed… now that she does? My money is on her.” 

Four months later. 

Aaron’s hands were shaking, his palms sweating, he was so nauseous he felt the urge to swallow every five to ten seconds… and there was still no sign of you. 

Or the hitman out to kill you. 

Court would be in session in 45 minutes and you were the first witness on the docket. 

You’d written him a letter that he’d received yesterday. 

Dear Tomcat, 

I’ve been in contact with the D.A. on a secure line. We’ve gone over my testimony multiple times, and she’s confident that I’ll do well during cross examination with the defense. I wish I could talk to you about it. I’m nervous. I know you’ll be there, but I’m sure I won’t see you until it’s all over as I’ll be sequestered as soon as I arrive. She says that you’re all still worried  about a possible attempt on my life before the trial starts. But I’ve seen neither hide nor hair of anyone suspicious since Wyoming, so I’m not as concerned as I probably should be. I’ll be as cautious as I can getting to the court house, I’ll wear a disguise so good, even you won’t recognize me.

I can’t believe it's almost over. Fourteen months. We had two days and we’ve been apart for fourteen months. I can’t even imagine how it will feel to finally see you again. To hear your voice straight from your lips instead of through a television or a computer. To feel your arms around me, your hands on me. I haven’t heard from you in nine months—I know that isn’t your fault—but I am… nervous. The day I left you said to me that the way you felt with me is something you would wait decades to feel, I hope you were sincere. This has felt like decades to me… 

It seems like a lifetime since someone called me by name, smiled at me with the familiarity of someone who truly knows me, or was able to offer me a true connection… I don't know if I am even capable of maintaining a friendship any more… or something more. 

But then I remind myself that I have written to a man who cannot respond to me for almost a year, with nothing but a hope that he’s receiving my letters and smiling as he reads them. I think… and I hope this is not true… but I think I have fallen in love with the idea of you. See, I know you… as a boss… as a sexual partner… as a friend, but I’m afraid that I’ve built up this perfect image of you in my mind. What if the way I remember you is very different from who you’ve become while I’ve been gone? A person can change a lot in a year. I know I have. 

I’m harder now, I used to be light and soft. Playful. I don’t think I know how to be those things anymore. What if you find that I am not the same woman I was fourteen months ago? What if you don’t like the woman I’ve become? I still miss you everyday. So that has to count for something, right? Even if it is all in my head. 

With nervous anticipation and so much excitement I could die, 

Sweetheart

The letter had wrecked him. 

He lived and breathed for your letters. The wait for their arrival was like purgatory… the worst kind of hell. 

The time between them seemed to stretch into oblivion, because by the time the letters got to him, he knew that you’d been alive a week before. Though, he had no clue if you were still breathing as he read them. 

He missed you terribly. 

And to see you doubt that in any way… it broke his heart a little. 

He knew that you’d had a tough year, it’d been tough for him as well in completely opposite ways. He would just have to take his time convincing you that nothing had changed for him, and he still wanted you as badly now as he had when you’d left. 

“Hotch, I got movement on the roof of the building across the street.” Morgan murmured into his radio, his voice breaking through Aaron’s thoughts. “I’m going up to check it out.” 

Aaron looked up toward the roof in question from where he was standing on the steps of the courthouse, sure enough, there was a man up there. Aaron couldn’t tell what he was doing from this distance, but the fact that he was up there at all was enough to warrant suspicion. 

“Be careful Morgan.” Aaron responded, as he began to scan the crowd more diligently, looking for any sign of you. 

The crowd was thickening more and more as the time drew closer to nine. People showing up for work, people showing up for court, or both. It was getting harder and harder to pick through all the faces and see that they were not yours. Nearly three minutes passed and Aaron kept anxiously glancing to the roof. 

“It’s just a maintenance guy, he’s up here trying to see if he can’t get the AC fixed without having to call an HVAC service.” Morgan finally said into the radio. “It's nothing.”

Aaron relaxed infinitesimally, but he kept scanning, kept studying the crowd.

It was getting louder and louder every minute, the steps were filling up and the line to get through the metal detectors at the door was getting long. Aaron wiped his sweaty palms against the fabric of his slacks, it didn’t help… but it made him feel slightly less panicky. 

“I think I’ve got something…” JJ murmured. 

“Him, or her?” Prentiss asked. 

“Her.” JJ answered.

Aaron stopped breathing. 

“Where?” He whispered. 

“About a hundred feet to your left coming up the sidewalk on the north side of the building.” She answered. 

He turned, searching through the crowd, but the faces all blurred together. 

“Description?” He murmured, his voice cracking and his heart trying to beat its way free of his chest. 

“Black pantsuit, with a red silk blouse, her hair is jet black, she’s got on sunglasses, the big bugeyed ones like what Prentiss wears.” JJ listed, earning a disgruntled hey from Prentiss. “I’m not entirely sure because her face is obscured and she’s farther away from me than you… but the walk is familiar.” 

Red silk blouse, big sunglasses, jet black hair. 

He scanned the crowd over and over, until he found the woman in question.

“That’s not her.” He muttered. “Wrong height, and that’s not her nose.” 

“Wait.” Reid said, his voice cutting through the crowd. “I’ve got her and I’m positive it’s her. She’s behind you Hotch, already in line to go into the court house. Black pencil skirt, white blouse with flowy sleeves, blazer draped over her arm. She’s wearing a black headband and glasses, real glasses not sunglasses. She’s wearing heels… of some sort. Black tights. About fifty feet from you.” 

Aaron whipped around in the direction of the line and made to stride in your direction, he hadn’t even found you yet but if Spencer was sure… he was sure. 

“Hotch stop.” Prentiss warned. “Don’t go over there, look away from her now and walk away. I’ve got a suspicious man on the roof across from Morgan. Fuck… This one is for real. He’s got a gun.” 

“Can you take him out?” Aaron was already moving… and not in the direction he wanted to be. 

He was headed for that roof. 

“I don’t have a shot.” Prentiss muttered. 

She was on the roof of the courthouse in a sniper nest of her own. Not her usual role… but he had wanted to be on the ground where he could protect you. 

“If you get one, you take it.” He ordered her. 

There were no other teams out there, just them. So there was no chance that this guy was another agent, or a cop. It had to be the hitman. 

“Morgan can you–”

“Not before you, but I’ll be right behind you.” Morgan answered him without even needing to hear the full question. 

“Hurry Hotch.” Emily’s voice was a little bit panicked. “I think he sees her.” 

“Fuck!” Aaron hissed. “Still no shot?” 

He was running now, down the sidewalk to the entrance to the other building, as fast as he could go. 

“I could wound him! Graze his shoulder, that’s about it!” She explained. 

“Take it!” He ordered. “Spencer, use the chaos to get her inside! Do it fast!” 

“Emily, he's seen Aaron, and he’s lining up a shot on her, if you’re gonna do it, do it now!” Rossi’s voice was frantic. 

Aaron felt like he was running through water, every step felt heavy and seemed to take ages. He was running but he wasn’t moving fast enough! Like a cartoon character. 

“Emily!” He called. 

“I’ve got it!” She answered. 

The shot rang out through the street like a thunderclap, and panic ensued. 

“Spencer, get her inside! JJ help him!” Aaron called. 

But he kept running. The faces of people only blurs of color as he went flying by. 

When he reached the lobby of the building the man was on he flashed his badge at the desk worker. 

“Roof access?!?” He demanded. 

The girl pointed to a stairwell, and Aaron flew. 

“I’m a couple minutes behind you Hotch!” Morgan warned him. “I’m coming as fast as I can!” 

“We have her! We’re taking her to the sublevel of the courthouse, no windows.” Spencer explained. 

Aaron felt the ability to breathe return to him and he ran faster. Climbing the steps three at a time. His footsteps sounded like a herd of elephants. The emergency exit signs were washing the stairs in red light. It was ominous. 

There was no way this guy was getting away, not on his watch. Not today. 

You would be safe after today. 

He would make sure of it. 

He stopped—briefly—at the top of the staircase to catch his breath. He could hear Morgan thundering up behind him.

He opened the door, gun drawn, and slipped out onto the roof. 

He didn’t see anyone. 

“Hotch! Look out!” Emily cried. 

Something struck him on the back of the head and his vision blurred. He fell to the concrete of the rooftop, the breath he’d just regained fleeing his chest in a rush. His gun skittering away from him. 

“Hotch!” Emily shouted again. “Morgan hurry!” 

“I’m almost there!” Derek panted. 

Aaron rolled, just as a boot came slamming down onto the concrete where his head had been only a moment before. He kicked out to the side, swiping the man's legs out from under him. Then launching himself on top of the assailant as he hit the ground. Aaron straddled the guy, and did not hesitate as he began throwing punches. 

He didn’t see the gun. 

Not until it was pointed at his face. 

The first gunshot had pulled your attention to the roof of the courthouse. Which is why you didn’t realize it was Spencer who took you by the arm… and why you threw a reactive punch… right to his nose. 

“Ouch!” He yelped. “It’s just me!” 

He doubled over grabbing his nose for a second before he grabbed you again and hauled you forward. Then a blur of blonde was at your other side, covering you. 

“Move!” JJ urged you, pushing you toward the building. Forcing through the panicked crowd. “Get to the door!” 

You didn’t argue, didn’t waste time apologizing to Spencer who was now bleeding. You just made a break for the door, the two of them in tow. JJ flashed her badge to the security guard. “Material witness! She’s the target, let us in now!” 

The man didn’t argue, just opened the door. No one cared that the three of you set off the metal detectors as you crossed the threshold. Spencer was dragging and JJ was pushing as they forced you inside and then Spencer found an elevator. He pushed the down arrow. They crowded you against the door until you were leaning against it, covering you with their bodies, and when the door opened the three of you fell inside together. They didn’t move to get off of you until the doors closed. 

“We have her! We’re taking her to the sublevel of the courthouse, no windows.” Spencer said into his sleeve—where you realized his radio receiver must be—then covered his nose again as blood dripped onto his shirt. 

“What just happened?” You panted, looking at both of them with wide eyes. “Was someone shooting at me?” 

Not that it would’ve been shocking after the year that you’d had… but to do it from the roof of the courthouse. That was insane. 

“No. That was Emily.” JJ muttered, then she held up a hand and covered her free ear. She was listening to something intently.

“Emily?” You asked Spencer quietly. 

He nodded. 

“She shot at the man on the other roof who was about to shoot you.” He explained. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

Oh, fuck. 

That was close.

“Shit. Hotch is going up there without back up. Morgan is minutes behind.” JJ muttered. 

“What!?!” You gasped and then you scrambled to Spencer’s side and snatched his ear piece. He didn’t argue. 

“Hotch! Look out!” Emily cried. 

You heard Aaron grunt in pain and the oxygen evacuated your lungs.

“Hotch!” Emily shouted again. “Morgan hurry!” 

“I’m almost there!” Derek panted. 

“What’s happening?!” You heard Rossi demand. 

And then there was a gunshot. 

“Hotch!” Emily screamed. 

Then everything went silent. 

You, JJ, and Reid stared at each other in terror for several seconds. 

“We got him.” Morgan’s voice came through the ear piece. 

But that was not the voice you needed to hear. You grabbed Spencer’s wrist and hauled it up to your face. 

“Aaron?! Aaron Hotchner, you speak to me right this second!” You demanded, your voice cracking as you strangled on barely choked back sobs. It was quiet for a moment longer and panic squeezed your heart. 

“Aaron!” You called again, desperately. 

“I’m here, baby. I’m fine. Take a breath.” His voice flooded your whole body with relief. 

You slumped against Spencer and sobbed. 

“Is she okay?” You heard Aaron ask.

“Yeah.” JJ murmured, a soothing hand on your shoulder. “She’s got blood on her, but it’s Reid’s. She bloodied his nose when he tried to pull her out of the line and into the building, didn’t realize it was him.” 

You heard Morgan chuckle quietly, but you couldn’t get your emotions back under control. The thought that you were so close… and yet you’d almost lost him at the last second. Just when you were finally going to be able to be together. It had wrecked you. 

“We’re taking him in. Stay with her, don’t leave her side until she’s on the stand.” Aaron instructed JJ. “Dave, you stay too. Prentiss you’re with us.” 

The next thirty minutes were a blur. JJ had produced a different blouse from somewhere and helped you get into it, while Rossi and Spencer guarded the door. Your hands couldn’t stop shaking and you could barely breathe. It wasn’t because you’d almost been killed. You’d actually gotten used to that feeling and had learned how to push through it… as terrifying as that was. No, it was because Aaron had almost been killed trying to protect you, and you didn’t think you’d be able to get it together. Not until you saw him with your own eyes, and saw that he was uninjured. Is this how he had felt all these months? Especially after you’d disappeared in Alabama? Like his chest was caving in and the only way to stop it was to see you?

You hoped not. 

You couldn’t imagine doing something so cruel to him. Not on purpose. 

By the time the Bailiff came in search of you, you’d calmed down enough to speak and coherently answer questions. Though that tightness in your chest never truly left. When you took the stand, the Prosecutor didn’t even have time to ask you a single question before JJ came rushing—quietly—into the courtroom. She waved the prosecution over and she listened as JJ whispered in her ear and handed her a file. 

“Your Honor.” The attorney addressed the judge. “Side Bar?” 

“Approach the bench.” The judge rumbled, he was an older man with a jowled neck… He looked like a fat turkey. 

Both the Prosecution and the Defense approached and she handed the judge the file she’d received from JJ. 

“Your honor, this morning before court there was yet another attempt on my witness’s life—this being the third such attempt—the FBI was able to apprehend and take that man into custody. They’ve gotten a full confession and the man had confirmed that the defendants did indeed hire him for the hit. In light of that, the Prosecution moves to add several more charges to the Defendant’s case. Including but not limited to: Witness Tampering, Attempted Murder of a Witness, the solicitation of murder, and conspiracy to commit murder.” She explained. “As well as entering all of this into evidence. The defense can—of course—have copies.” 

The judge nodded and then you kind of blacked out until she asked you your first question. To be honest you didn’t remember much of anything once it was over, but as he escorted you out of the court house and into an SUV, Rossi praised your composure and bravery. Telling you what an excellent job you did. You came out of your daze when you realized you had no idea where he was taking you. 

“Where are we going?” You asked, you were in Connecticut. You’d passed the FBI office on the way in and that wasn’t the way he was taking you. 

“Hotel. Aaron wanted to get you out of there as soon as possible. You must be tired…” He answered. You nodded. 

“Exhausted.” You muttered. “I don’t think I’ve slept a full night since… well, the day I left probably.” 

“That’s not healthy kiddo.” He sighed, “Though I can give you a pass in this situation. You’re safe now though. So rest up okay?” 

“I will.” You murmured. 

Aaron was impatient. 

He’d gotten the text from Rossi three hours ago that said: 

Dave: Got her back to the hotel and settled in her room. She fell asleep before I even left. I had to slip her shoes off so she didn’t hurt herself with the heels in her sleep. Don’t worry. I’m just out in the hall if she needs anything. Drug a chair out there. I’ll stay as long as I need to.

There were just a few more things left for him to tie up here at the field office, Reid and JJ had things under control at the courthouse, and once he left, Morgan and Prentiss could finish their goodbyes to the local Organized Crime unit. All he wanted was to lay eyes on you… 

Then he’d let you sleep. 

In his arms, if you’d allow it but he needed to see you. It’d been so long… and knowing you were so close… It was agony. He’d been just steps away from you earlier. Mere feet. Yet he’d never laid eyes on you. He’d heard your voice though. It was the most beautiful sound to grace his ears since the day you’d left. He was bouncing his knee impatiently under the table as he finished up the last of the paperwork… 

“Dude.” Morgan huffed a laugh, and Aaron glanced up in irritation at the distraction. “Just put your signature on everything and go. Prentiss and I can handle it. You're making a mess of it anyway. Look, you’re smearing the ink worse than usual.” 

He was… unfortunately. He sighed. 

“Are you sure?” He tried not to let his voice sound so hopeful. Morgan and Prentiss shared a knowing grin. 

“Yeah man, we’re sure.” Derek nodded. “Go, before you stomp a hole in the floor.” 

“Thank you.” Aaron whispered, grabbing a set of the SUV keys and putting his suit jacket back on. 

“Go get your girl!” Emily called after him, laughing as he hurried from the room.

He didn’t even have the mental capacity to care. All his energy was focused on getting to you. The drive was a blur, his mind on autopilot. What would he even say to you? He knew that you still felt the same… Your letter had been clear about that, but he didn’t know how to breach the gap that time and distance might have caused. 

Before he knew it, he was exiting the elevator on the seventh floor of the hotel and walking toward Rossi who was sitting in a rolling desk chair in front of a door. 

“She’s still asleep as far as I know…” Dave murmured as he walked up. “But I think she was pretty anxious to see you.” 

The man winked at him as he stood.

“Why am I nervous?” Aaron asked him. “She’s written to me every week without fail… well almost, but her letters were very clear about how she feels. I shouldn’t be this… frazzled.” 

Dave laughed softly. 

“You’ll figure it out.” He murmured. “But it could have something to do with the fact that you haven’t seen her in over a year… and she’s right there behind that door. I’d say you’re more excited than nervous. Right?” 

“I think my heart is trying to crawl up my throat.” Aaron muttered, earning himself another laugh and a clap on the shoulder. 

“Go see her. It’ll make you feel better… I’m certain.” Dave gave him a gentle nudge toward the door. 

“Thank you for staying with her.”

“Of course.” Dave waved him off. “I’ll be a few doors down if you need me.” 

Aaron just nodded and waited for him to disappear into his room. 

In 1, 2, 3, 4. Out 1, 2, 3, 4. 

He shook his head to clear it… and then he knocked. Four solid raps against the wood. Then he waited. 

Watching the peep hole for any sign of movement, he noticed that the room number was 777. Aaron Hotchner was not a superstitious or particularly religious man, but as a shadow blocked out the daylight shining through the peep hole… he believed in the divine. If only for the day. He was also well aware that there was more than likely a gun leveled at his stomach through the door at this moment, but he would be proud of you if there was. The shadow moved and there was a brief pause before he heard the locks start to disengage. You’d definitely gone to put a gun away. 

Okay… now would be a good time to think of something to say, Aaron. Anything. Fuck… even hi would probably work, just open your mouth and say it.

Then the door swung open and a body came hurtling out into the hallway and launched into him so hard that he stumbled back into the other wall. 

And then you were kissing him. Your hands in his hair, your legs around his waist, and your lips melded against his. 

Okay… maybe words were overrated. 

This was definitely better. 

He carried you back through the door, just before it closed, then put your back against it. Your lips parted for his tongue and you tasted like home. He felt it was maybe a little necessary to say something to you before carrying you straight to the bed. (Which was where he really wanted to take you.) He kissed you until you were the one who finally pulled back to gasp for breath. Your forehead resting against his. 

“Hi.” You whispered, and he couldn’t help but smile. 

“Hi.” He chuckled softly. 

“I can’t believe you're real…” You breathed. 

“I’m very real baby, I promise.” He murmured, brushing his nose against yours. “It’s a good thing too, otherwise you would’ve launched yourself headfirst into that wall.” 

You shook your head slowly. 

“I don’t know if I believe that yet.” You said, “This could be a dream… I was sleeping. What if I wake up in a minute and you're not here?” 

He kissed you again, biting your lip softly. 

“Does that feel real?” He asked. 

“It always does.” You whimpered. “And I always wake up…” 

“How many times have you had this dream?” He wondered aloud. 

“I lost count.” You kissed him again. 

“You won’t wake up alone this time, sweetheart. It's real…” He whispered against your lips. 

“Prove it.” You demanded. 

He sat you on your feet softly, caressing your hips and gripping your waist firmly, pulling you as close as he could get you. You whimpered softly as his lips found your neck, and you began to push him backwards down the short entryway, unbuttoning his shirt as you went. Aaron let his hand find the zipper of your skirt, and it slipped to your ankles, making you stumble into his chest. He bumped into the TV stand, knocking over a lamp that rolled off it and fell to the floor, but he didn’t let you fall. Your breaths were rapid and shallow as he let you push his suit jacket down his shoulders. He let it fall to the floor and his shirt followed quickly after it. Then he lifted you off your feet, turned and sat you up on the TV stand, where the lamp had previously sat. At this height he could better explore you with his lips. Trailing them down to the base of your neck, and tracing your collar bones. Sucking and biting gently as he went. 

He wanted to devour you. 

To taste every inch of your skin until he was sated. Though he knew he’d never get enough of you. 

Aaron’s patience had run out before he’d even gotten here, so the buttons on your blouse were an inconvenience he did not have time for. He needed your skin bare beneath his lips, under his hands.

“Are you attached to this shirt?” He asked, tugging on the hem. 

“No, it’s not even mine. JJ found it for me when I got Reid’s blood on mine.” You said through gasps and moans as he nipped and licked at your pulse point, unable to keep his mouth off of you. “I think she got it out of the courthouse’s charity closet.” 

“Perfect.” He murmured, before he grasped both sides of the collar and ripped it open. 

Sending buttons flying everywhere. 

The sound that escaped your lips had him gripping your thighs so tightly he would have to check you for bruises later… Then he was kissing his way down your chest, as you shrugged out of the shirt and tossed it over his head to the floor behind him. He sucked at the curve of your breast and you tipped your head back. 

“Aaron…” You moaned. 

God, he had missed that sound. His name on your lips was like a balm to his battered heart. Especially when you said it like that. 

He traced his hands up your waist and around your back to the clasp of your bra, deftly unhooking it and freeing your breasts. They were every bit as beautiful as he remembered. Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging on it sharply as he sucked one of your nipples into his mouth and rolled it with his tongue. 

“Fuck, Aaron.” Your tone was absolutely sinful. 

He smirked, barely pausing to murmur, “Don’t worry, sweetheart, we’ll get there.” 

“Can we get there any faster? I want you, like now.” You grumbled, but there was a hint of desperation in your tone. 

He chuckled softly. 

“Still not an ounce of patience.” He teased under his breath, swapping to the other nipple and earning a whimper. 

“Unless vibrators count, I’ve been celibate for fourteen months, I’m allowed to be impatient right now!” You whined, and then yelped in surprise as he scooped you up off the tv stand and transferred you quickly across the two feet to the bed. “Aaron!” 

“What?” He asked, feigning innocence. “You said you wanted to get there faster.” 

You laughed and the heat in your eyes was enough to make him ache for you. 

“I just wanna know why you still have pants on?” You purred, biting your bottom lip. 

“That is a very good question… Maybe you should help me out of them.” He murmured back, brushing a few wild locks of hair out of your face that had fallen loose from the headband that was still on your head. 

He slipped it off and tossed it to the night stand, then buried his hand into your hair guiding your lips back to his. He felt your hands at his belt buckle, heard it jingle as you undid it, followed by the slide of his zipper and then you were pushing his slacks down his thighs. They pooled around his ankles and he simply stepped out of them, and knelt on the bed with his knees between yours as he slowly—and gently—pushed you down onto the mattress. Your legs wrapped around his waist—thighs squeezing his hips tightly—as he slipped his hand between your bodies, and beneath the waistband of your panties. You whimpered against his lips as his fingers began to explore your pussy. Caressing smooth skin and gathering your wetness, dragging it up to your clit where he began to circle ever so lightly. You arched up into his hand, seeking more friction, and he gave it to you. Pressing more firmly on your clit, and making you moan. 

“Aaron, please…” You pleaded with him, pulling away from his lips to beg with those gorgeous eyes that always brought him to his knees. 

“Please what, Pretty Girl?” He murmured softly, still working your clit. “Tell me what you need.” 

He increased his speed and pressure, making you squirm and whine, “I need you inside me!” 

He smirked at you again, unable to resist teasing you. 

Was he absolutely throbbing for you? Painfully so. Was the way you reacted to his teasing and edging worth it? Absolutely. 

“What part of me sweetheart?” He asked, letting his voice flow out in a low hum. “There are so many options, I’m going to need you to be more specific…” 

He leaned down and began kissing your neck again. 

“Aaron…” You keened in frustration. 

“No, really sweetheart, tell me…” He purred, “Do you want my fingers?” 

He slipped the aforementioned fingers down from your clit to your entrance, teasing at it lightly, before sliding on inside. You were so wet that he met no resistance and earned a moan in reward, but you shook your head and gasped, “Please!” 

“How about my tongue?” He laved at your pulse with it, then sucked, and your pussy clenched around his finger. “Hmm? Would you like that?”

You whimpered, as he used the pad of his finger to massage your g-spot. 

“Come on, honey… All you have to do is say the word…” He teased, “Just one word, and I’ll give you what you want. Fingers, tongue or co-”

He let out a strangled groan instead of finishing his sentence. Why? 

Because you had reached up and palmed his cock through his boxers, squeezing him firmly.

“Fuck…” He hissed. 

“You know what I want Aaron.” You panted, “Stop teasing and fuck me.”  

Any control that Aaron had regained, went flying out the window. 

He was here.

He was actually here, kissing your lips and touching your skin. You had dreamt of how this would go, how you’d feel when you saw him again. How he might take his time, exploring your body the way he had that morning in your apartment… and he had been trying to. But the second you’d seen his face through the peephole… 

You had wanted him desperately. 

So desperately that you didn’t have any need for the foreplay he was trying to provide. You were ready enough. You knew that he had been just as desperate—holding back for your sake alone—because the moment you had uttered the words “fuck me….”

He snapped. 

He hadn’t even taken the time to take his boxers off, or your panties. He’d simply pushed his down and slipped yours to the side. Then he was pushing inside of you. Entering you in one smooth thrust that had him so deep you were clutching at his back for dear life, nails raking across his skin. The stretch burned so deliciously, a strangled moan fell from your lips. He stilled when he’d fully seated himself in your pussy, hovering over you—his hands on either side of your head—his breaths sharp and quick. His eyes were locked on yours, and they were full of pure desire. Your stomach tightened in excitement. 

“Baby…” He panted, “I… I don’t wanna hurt you, but if I move, I’m not gonna be able to hold back.” 

You palmed both sides of his face and pulled him down for a bruising kiss. The kind of kiss that felt like you were trying to join your souls together through lips, tongues and teeth.  Then you pulled back—just enough to look into those hazel eyes that you’d dreamt of every night—making sure he could see just how serious you were when you said, “Don’t hold back, take me however you need me, I don’t care. I just need you.” 

He needed no further reassurance. 

Without ever pulling out of you, Aaron sat up and pulled your legs up over his shoulders,  wrapping his forearms around your thighs just below your knees. His first few thrusts were slow, testing, and measured, they had you moaning and arching your back to take him deeper. It was useless, however, because you were nearly immobile in that position. 

But he didn’t leave you wanting for long… 

Because just like he said, after those first few thrusts, he didn’t hold back. Aaron pounded into you, his cock hitting you so deep inside, you swore you could feel him in your stomach. 

“You feel so good, sweetheart.” He praised, “So fucking good…” 

He took one hand caressing down the length of your thigh and reaching around your leg, then rested his palm on your lower stomach, finding your clit with his thumb and circling it. You were a mess, clutching at the bedspread and tangling your fingers in it. With his other hand, Aaron peeled your thigh highs off one after the other, throwing them to the floor and placed kisses to the inside of your calves. The pace he was setting was brutal… and you loved every second of it. Yet somehow, it wasn’t enough. You wanted him so badly it felt like a compulsion, a desperate, deep, aching need for him. You wanted to be able to feel this long after it was over, you wanted to be sore and bruised… you wanted him written all over your body like a brand. 

“Aaron,” You breathed, “I- I need– Oh fuck.” 

You could barely get the sentence out as his cock hit your cervix and dragged against your g-spot with every thrust. 

“What do you need, baby?” He asked, “Tell me, I’ll give you whatever you want.” 

“Harder.” You gasped. “Fuck me harder. I wanna feel you tomorrow.” 

Aaron pulled out of you suddenly, with no warning and you whined at the absence—the emptiness. Lowering your legs from his shoulders he tapped your left hip, “Roll over for me pretty girl, hands and knees.” 

You sat up and got to your hands and knees without hesitation. You would have done anything he asked of you. Anything. Your trust in him was absolute. When you looked back over your shoulder at him, he groaned. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, you look… incredible.” He murmured, as he pulled your panties down to your knees, gripping your hips and tilting them to give himself better access as he lined his cock up with your pussy again. “Are you ready, baby?” 

“Yes, please!” He eased back inside you, then took two handfuls of your ass and used it to throw you up and down his shaft as he thrust into you with a bruising rhythm. You cried out, “Fuck!” 

You were breathless, the tension in your body was rapidly building to a crescendo as he railed you. You could feel every inch of him as your cunt squeezed him tightly. The pressure of his finger tips digging into the muscle of your ass cheeks, was both pleasure and pain. The mixture was pure bliss. And then he reached around to find your clit, his finger seeking it out with ease. You thought you might black out. There were too many sensations going on at once, all making that familiar ball of tension grow and grow. He let go of your ass cheek, and planted a hand in between your shoulder blades. Pushing you down to your elbows and making your breasts touch the bed, your nipples brushing against the sheets. 

“You’re doing so good, sweetheart, taking me so well.” He praised, “I can feel you getting close, pretty girl. Are you gonna come for me?”

“Oh God, Aaron, please!” You moaned. 

“Please what, baby?” He kept pace while he talked and the sound of his voice was driving you closer and closer to the edge. 

“Don’t stop talking to me, I’m so close.” You pleaded, you’d missed the sound of his voice so much. 

“You wanna hear my voice while you come on my cock, pretty girl?” He purred, leaning closer to you so he could murmur right into your ear. “Want me to talk you through it, hmm?”

“So bad..” You whined

“I can do that for you, baby. Just relax and let me make you fall apart.” His voice was low and rough, the rasp in it had your toes curling while he fucked you senseless. “Is my cock better for you than that fun little purchase you made while you were gone?” 

“Yes!” You whimpered. 

“It fills you up so much better, doesn’t it?” His finger was working your clit in such perfect little circles, the pressure just how you liked it. 

“Mm hmm.” It was the only coherent sound you could make. 

“I’ve been aching for this pussy, thought about it every single night while you were gone. In bed, in the shower…” He confessed, “Even in my office.” 

You moaned as an image of him jacking off to the thought of you—sitting at his desk with his head thrown back and his eyes closed—filled your mind. 

“My hand doesn’t hold a candle to you, sweetheart… you’re even better than I remembered.” 

You clenched around him and your back arched a little more, as you pressed back into him, taking him a little deeper. 

“Fuck…” He groaned, “Just like that, baby. You’re such a good girl, taking my cock like this.” 

You couldn’t contain your moans and whimpers anymore… It was all too much, and then he was squeezing your hip and ass again with his free hand–the one that had been on your back–and you hoped he left finger prints behind for you to obsess over later. 

“I’m getting close, pretty girl, I need you to come for me.” He ground out, fucking into you for all he was worth. “Come on baby, you can do it… Let go and let me take care of you. Come all over my cock baby, I wanna feel every second of it.” 

But there was something you wanted… something you’d missed the feeling of more than you would ever admit out loud. Although you could be persuaded to tell Aaron about it. Persuaded? Yeah right… You were about to beg for it.

“I- fuck, Aaron, I need you…” You got cut off by a strangle moan that flew from your mouth when his cock hit just right.  

“I’m right here baby, I’ve got you. Just let go…” He soothed. You shook your head. 

“I need you to come inside me!” You panted, pleaded… “I need it so bad, Aaron please!” 

Aaron groaned something under his breath that sounded like pure filth from what you could make out. 

“You sound so pretty when you beg, sweetheart. You want me to come inside your perfect little pussy?” He asked. “You gonna come for me if I do?” 

“Yes! God, yes! Aaron, please!” 

“That’s a good girl…” He praised, then… “Shit, I’m- ahh!”

He kept thrusting through his own orgasm and the warmth of his cum spilling into you, flooding your pussy, and dripping down your thighs was the final little push you needed to go spiraling over that edge. 

“Aaron!” You cried, your elbows and wrist giving out—your knees not far behind—but he caught you, pulling you back against his chest. 

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” He murmured in your ear as your vision went all fucked up, you were seeing white with colored spots. “I’ve got you.”

It was a good thing he had you, because you couldn’t feel your legs, so you just relaxed. Going limp against his chest, panting and resting your head on his shoulder. He turned his head and pressed a tender kiss to your cheek. You smiled, turning your head so he could kiss your lips instead. Your eyes fluttered closed, they couldn’t see anything yet anyway… The kiss wasn’t urgent… It wasn’t panicked, or needy… It was slow, soft, and sweet. It was full of unsaid words and feelings. 

“I missed you so goddamn much.” You murmured against his lips. “You scared the hell out of me today…” 

“I’m sorry baby… I never want you to feel that way. But I’m okay, Morgan got there just in time, it's just a scratch.” He soothed. 

Your eyes flew open, suddenly your legs worked just fine and you were out his arms and standing in front of him on the bed—tripping over the panties that were still around your knees—he reached out and gripped your waist to keep you steady. You searched his nearly naked body with your eyes frantically. “What’s just a scratch? Rossi said you weren’t hurt! You said you were fine!” 

He stared up at you with wide blinking eyes. 

“Baby… I am fine… it’s just a… a burn…” He said, very carefully. 

“A burn?” You muttered in confusion, studying his face and then a dark pinkish red mark on his temple caught your attention. “What the fuck! Aaron, is that a powder burn!?” 

You grabbed his chin and forced his head to the side so you could look at the injury. 

“Oh my God.” You whimpered, dropping to your knees… You had known that he’d been in danger… but that it had been that close… you felt sick. Tears pooled in your eyes. He took your wrist in his hand and then the other, looking back at you. 

“Hey… sweetheart, don’t… I’m okay… I got checked out. I went to the ER, and I promise I’m okay.” He soothed, but it did nothing to stop the tears that rolled down your cheeks. He took your face in his hands and wiped them away with his thumbs. “Baby please don’t cry, it’s all over now.” 

“Hold me?” You whispered. “And tell me how that happened?” 

He nodded, kissing your forehead.

“Whatever you need, baby…” He murmured. “But let's get you cleaned up first, hmm?” 

You frowned at him… squinting skeptically. 

“I promise I will tell you everything.” He swore. “I just wanna take care of you physically first, sweetheart, then we both have some stories to tell, don’t you think?” 

“Okay…” You agreed. 

Aaron didn’t need more permission than that as he scooped you up into his arms and carried you to the bathroom. A nervous peel of giggles falling from your lips. He was relieved to hear you laugh… He didn’t know how he’d made it fourteen months without that sound. It was vital to him somehow… and he hoped he never lost it again. He sat you down on the bathroom counter and kissed you once on the tip of your nose before he turned around to flip on the shower. 

“We don’t have any clean clothes…” You murmured, filling the silence. It seemed that hadn’t changed in the year you’d been apart, you still couldn’t stand the quiet. He wondered how you’d handled that, being alone for so long.

“My room is the adjoining one to this one.” He answered you. “You can wear some of mine and I’ll call Emily and see if she and Derek can’t go pick up your go bag from wherever you were staying.” 

“I hid it in some bushes outside the courthouse… Just in case things went south and I needed to run again.” You said and he stopped fiddling with the water temperature to look at you. 

“I know that you know better than this, but you didn’t leave any weapons in that bag right?” He asked. You laughed, and his heart skipped a beat.  

“No, they were on me.” You gestured to your body, which reminded him that you were still naked and he got a little distracted looking at you. “They’re all out in the room, hidden under pillows and stuff.” 

“Pillows?” He raised a brow, “Meaning… the pillows on the bed I just fucked you in… that sounds so safe.” 

You laughed again and he couldn’t help but smile. He adored that sound. 

“We didn’t even get close to the pillows… it was fine.” You smirked. 

“What am I gonna do with you?” He teased, shaking his head. 

Your smirk grew into a wide, mischievous grin and he knew whatever you said next would be wild.

“You could try to fuck some sense into me… but uh, I’m pretty sure your cock turns my brain to mush so… good luck in that endeavor! Oh, but by all means, give it your best shot.” You joked, and it was his turn to laugh. 

“I think I prefer fucking you senseless, I love that little dazed look you get on your face when your all blissed out.” He shot back, smirking when your cheeks turned pink. He turned back to the water for a second, sticking his wrist in the stream to test the heat. It was slightly too warm for his preference, but the shower you’d taken when he’d stayed the night with you had been so hot that steam had been rolling out from under the bathroom door. He turned and grasped you by the waist, lifting you off the counter and setting you on your feet on the floor. 

“Will that be comfortable for you?” He murmured, nodding toward the water. 

You smiled softly and stuck your hand under the faucet, then nodded. “It’s perfect.”

He leaned against the counter and waited for you to get in, but you hesitated. 

“Do you want me to go?” He asked, not wanting to be in a separate room, but if that made you more comfortable he wouldn’t object. You shook your head no and your cheeks flushed bright red. He raised an eyebrow at you, but waited patiently for you to get your thoughts together. It wasn’t often that you hesitated to speak your mind, so he was curious. 

“I-” You started and stopped again, then took a deep breath, held it and let it out slowly. 

He smiled. 

“Take your time.” He murmured softly. 

“Will you get in with me?” You asked shyly.

His smile grew till it was nearly ear to ear he was sure. 

“Of course.” He whispered. “Whatever you need, honey.” 

“I just…” You pressed your lips together and furrowed your brow, “It’s silly.” 

“It's not.” He shook his head and reached out, pulling you to him gently by the back of your neck, threading his hand into your hair and kissing your forehead. Then wrapped his other arm around your waist. Holding you close. “It’s obviously important to you, so it’s important to me.” 

You gave him the strangest look then, your eyes holding so much emotion and yet he couldn’t quite place any of them. 

“I don’t wanna be alone… I’ve been alone for the majority of a year.” You murmured, and his heart broke for you, “But with you specifically I- I just want to be able to reach out and touch you… just to be able to reassure myself that you’re still there.” 

“That’s not silly at all, sweetheart.” He murmured, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand. “I’m not ready to let you out of my sight yet either.” 

“Really?” You whispered. He nodded and leaned down to kiss you. A chaste, sweet kiss. Nothing more. 

“It was hell, not knowing where you were, if you were safe, or—at some points—if you were even still alive.” He explained. “So yeah, Honey, I’ll get in the shower with you–for completely pure reasons I swear–I’ll stay with you as long as you want.” 

“Thank you.” You murmured, popping up onto your tip toes to kiss him on the cheek. “We’re wasting water…”

He had a feeling the two of you would waste a lot more water before this ‘shower’ was over… He didn’t think he’d make it very long–watching you lather up–without touching you. Luckily, he did not think you would mind. You stepped into the shower and he shed his boxers–which never actually made it off his body until this moment–and followed after, letting you have the water first. Watching you tip your head back and let the water run over you was a whole new lesson in patience for him. He was completely enthralled as he watched a stream of water run all the way from your neck, between your breasts, across the plain of your stomach and down between your legs…

“See something you like?” He startled at the smug teasing tone in your voice. 

He’d been caught. 

Clearing his throat, he brought his eyes back to yours… They were nearly sparkling. 

“As a matter of fact, I’m liking everything I see.” He admitted. “You’re… perfect, Sweetheart. I can’t get enough of you.” 

You bit back a smile and he knew that if the conversation continued down this path, there wouldn’t be much ‘showering’ happening at all. He cleared his throat again. “What did you manage to get up to while you were gone?” 

The smile fell from your lips and you shifted anxiously on your feet. 

“Your turn.” You murmured, shifting out of the water and offering it to him so you could lather up.

“Wait a minute… What was that?” He asked, not letting that go so easily. Even as he stepped into the water and cringed at the heat. 

“I uh… I didn’t really do anything fun, I just… worked.” You said. 

Oh. That’s what this was about. You thought he would disapprove of how you provided for yourself. 

“What did you do for work?” He asked, even though he was fairly certain he knew. You got even more awkward. He nodded his head knowingly. “Honey, you did what you had to do…” He murmured. “We… We tried to find you once… after Alabama, because we didn’t know if you were alive… so we profiled you. I profiled you.” 

“And?” You murmured. 

“I came to the conclusion that you were smart enough to know that your best source of income would be something that was untraceable… Like stripping off the books at a club, for example.” He said matter-of-factly. You nodded. 

“And what did the team think of that?” You asked, face blank, ready for a harsh blow.

“They agreed that you were smart enough to have done that and they just hoped you were safe while doing it.” He said honestly and you nodded. 

“I felt like it was my only option…” You whispered, a bit of fear in your eyes. 

“Sweetheart.” He murmured, reaching for you. “I wouldn’t care if you had stripped on live television if it meant that you were safe and had a roof over your head and food to eat… You found a way to take care of yourself, and that’s what matters. What you did was smart, I could never be upset with you for doing something that helped you stay safe until you could come home.”

Relief seemed to wash over you like the water had been before, and you let him fold you into his arms. 

“I was scared you’d be like… mad? Or… I don’t know… jealous?” You murmured. He chuckled softly. 

“Oh, I’m jealous.” He confessed, kissing the top of your head when you tensed up again. “Of everyone that got to watch you… you are… ethereal. I don’t know how you got so good at that so quickly, but watching you is like looking at art.” 

You let out a surprised giggle. 

“Maybe sometime I’ll show you all the new tricks I learned in Wyoming.” You wiggled your eyebrows at him and he laughed. 

“I think you definitely should.” He said with mock seriousness. He was getting a little worked up again just thinking about it. 

“Mmm, I’ll keep that in mind for your birthday or Christmas, whichever comes first.” You murmured. 

“My birthday is in November.” He said, very helpfully, and you giggled. 

“Okay, I can take a hint.” You purred, and your tone… You were gonna have to knock that off or you were gonna find yourself against the shower wall… and that was not the intended purpose of this shower. You untangled yourself from his arms and turned toward the wall mounted bath amenities, pumping some shampoo into your hand, and working it into a pitiful lather in your hair. 

“Ugh.” You groaned. “It’s gonna take my hair a week to recover from this.” 

“From what?” He asked, in amusement.

“Cheap shampoo.” You muttered, then you reached over to catch a stream of water that wasn’t hitting him directly, rinsing your hands. Next you pumped some body wash into your hands and groaned at it too. 

“What? Is the soap not up to par either?” He teased. As far as Aaron was concerned, soap was soap. 

“I’m used to the good stuff, okay. Strippers don’t skimp on skincare, and this stuff will make your skin dryer than the Sahara.” You informed him seriously, but he wasn’t paying attention anymore… He was just a man, after all, and there you were… naked, and lathering up your whole body with bubbly soap… He was just a man… and he was not immune to the allure of bubbles on bare skin. Especially when you were taking so much time on your breasts and… 

Wait. 

He shook his head and blinked a few times, bringing his eyes back up to your face. Caught again… 

You were watching him with a very amused—very heated—grin on your face. He felt his face get very warm. 

“Sorry… I can’t help it… you’re just…” He stammered to explain himself. “So fucking perfect.” 

Your cheeks turned pink again, and he was amazed at how his ogling of your body didn’t phase you, but a simple compliment had you lighting up like a christmas tree. 

“I like it…” You murmured shyly. “The way you look at me… it’s not… I don't know… It’s different. The way you look at me is different from how other men do… there’s more to it. It’s not just blind lust… there’s passion or… something else? I don’t know! I just know that the way you look at me doesn’t make me feel dirty, or like an object. When you look at me, I feel beautiful, I feel like I’m treasured… that sounds ridiculous but it’s how you make me feel.” 

Aaron was pretty sure his cheeks were going to be sore from how hard he was smiling. He was in love with you. It was as simple as that. He had been for months. 

“It doesn’t sound ridiculous… not to me.” He murmured. You both just stared at each other for a moment, the silence was loaded and he was literally two seconds away from confessing, from pouring his heart out to you, when he noticed you were rubbing at a line on your arm. It was pink and puckered. A scar. A very large scar, that had not been there when you had left. He knew it hadn’t because he’d memorized every inch of you. 

“What did that to you?” He asked, all his focus now narrowed down to that one patch of marred skin. “Better question. Who did that to you?” 

You froze and looked up at him, wide eyed. 

“A bullet…” You whispered. “I don’t know, but he’s dead.” 

Aaron took a very deep breath and closed his eyes. 

“Aaron?” You asked quietly. 

“I need a minute baby, I’m not mad at you… I just… I need a minute.” He murmured. 

“Can I rinse off, while you take a minute?” You asked cautiously. He opened his eyes. 

“Of course, Sweetheart.” He tried to smile at you, he did, but he was angry… not at you but at the whole situation. He stepped to the side and let you slide past him and under the water. 

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry about it when there was nothing you could do.” You murmured, as you tipped your head back to rinse your hair. He realized that you still thought he was mad at you. 

“Baby, look at me.” He insisted, you pushed the excess water out of your hair so it wouldn’t run into your face and then you opened your eyes and looked at him timidly. “I am not mad at you. I understand why you didn’t tell me. I didn’t tell you about the powder burn earlier for the exact same reason. I’m just… upset that you were hurt, and I wasn’t there to help you.” 

“Oh.” You whispered. You were quiet for several moments and he started to soap up while you rinsed off. 

“You saved my life that day… You and the whole team… even if you weren’t there. I used everything you taught me, and it kept me alive…” You said quietly. “But especially you… what you said to me at the shooting range… It saved my life. If I hadn’t had that talk with you I would have panicked, and then I wouldn’t have shot to kill. I would have died. I heard your voice in my head when they came for me, and I used the breathing technique you taught me. It kept me from freaking out, I didn’t stop breathing like that until I was safely on a bus on my way to Wyoming, and as soon as I did I lost my shit… I still cry when I really let myself think about it. I almost died… but also… I killed three people…” 

“No.” Aaron interrupted. “You defended yourself, you had no choice. It was them or you.” 

You nodded your head. 

“I know,” You murmured. “But they aren’t any less dead. I’m not dwelling on it… I’m just… learning to live with it.” 

“Would you like for me to help you?” He asked. He’d killed people on the job before… more times than he cared to think about… You gave him a soft smile. 

“I think that might help.” You nodded. 

“I hope it does.” He replied. 

“Do you still need a minute?” You asked him. He shook his head. 

“No baby, I think I’m good now.” He assured you. “Ready to switch again?” 

You nodded and you both went through the whole song and dance of switching positions in the–not quite big enough for two grown adults–shower. Aaron was so focused on getting thoroughly rinsed off, he didn’t notice that you were eyeing him… at first. He happened to glance over and catch you though. You were studying him, in a manner that was not entirely wholesome. Your bottom lip was trapped between your teeth and your eyes were so full of desire, tracing the shape of his body from the bottom up. At the moment he caught you however, you were staring right at his cock Of course, he would play into it, he had to get a bit of pay back for the little show you put on with the soap earlier. It was already partially erect… How could it not be? What, with you standing there naked, looking like that. He hadn’t stood a chance. But watching you look at it like you wanted it desperately… That had it standing at attention. So he took it in hand and stroked it, firmly and slowly. Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head, and he bit back a laugh, instead choosing to clear his throat softly. Your eyes shot up to his, your face turning bright red and you were biting that lip in earnest now. 

“See something you want, pretty girl?” Aaron was surprised at the tone of his own voice, the clear arousal in it was impossible to miss, but he wanted you to know that your attention was getting to him. 

“Sorry.” You whispered, it was barely even a breath. 

“Don’t apologize.” He smirked at you, “I like the way you look at me too, and I really wanna know what’s going on in that filthy mind of yours right now.” 

“I want you.” You murmured, without hesitation and Aaron felt his cock twitch in his hand. 

“You can have me anytime you want me, Sweetheart. You just have to ask.” He murmured, “Fucking you is my favorite passtime.” 

You shook your head and he cocked his to the side in question. 

“I don’t want you to… fuck me… I-” Your tongue flicked out to wet your lips… and he knew. A smile formed on his face. 

“You what, baby?” He asked, letting a slight teasing tone slip into his voice. You didn’t answer… not verbally. You just sank to your knees. 

“Fuck…” He whispered, as you gazed up at him from the floor, water droplets running all over you and clinging to your hair and eyelashes.  “You wanna suck my cock, sweetheart?” 

“Can I?” You asked, a touch of desperation in your voice… and Aaron was done for… wrapped around your little finger… “Please?” 

Oh fuck… He would let you get away with murder… and that was a problem in his line of work, in yours too. He didn’t care though, he was too in love with you to worry about it. 

“You can do whatever you want to me, pretty girl. I couldn’t deny you if I wanted to.” He whispered. 

“Then come here.” You murmured. It was like your voice had physical power over him. He took two steps closer to you, so that the water was only hitting his lower back and not running down his front. So it wouldn’t drown you. He stared down in awe as you reached out and gripped him firmly, a small moan working its way up his throat. You stroked him slowly, three times, making eye contact with him the whole time. And then you licked him, from base to tip on the underside, your tongue had him mesmerized, so pink and warm… He couldn’t help the shiver that ran down his spine, despite the hot water. He was not going to last… But he didn’t think you really wanted him to. When you wrapped your perfect lips around him, he thought he might lose it right then.

“Fuck, sweetheart, this isn’t gonna last long.” He warned you, and you pulled back, just enough to look up at him and smile. “That's okay, I have a score to settle, and right now it’s like seven to four… I’m losing. I can't let that stand.” 

He smirked down at you. 

“Honey, that score is never gonna be even, for every one you give me, I intended to give you at least two.” Aaron promised, shaking his head at your antics. You pouted. 

“Well… I guess I’ll just have fun trying anyway.” You purred and took him all the way to the back of your throat without warning. Aaron had to brace himself with a hand on the wall behind you as he moaned. Then he took the other hand and pushed your hair away from your face. He wanted to watch you. You were a sight to behold, kneeling in front of him with your lips wrapped around his cock, dragging yourself up and down the length of it… Your mouth felt like heaven, and then you looked up at him with those gorgeous eyes, making eye contact from beneath your lashes… He couldn’t have looked away if he wanted to. You were stunning. 

“Look at you, on your knees for me…” He murmured, running the back of his fingers down your cheek. “So fucking beautiful…” 

The whimper you let out was muffled by his cock, but he was so attuned to you that he heard it loud and clear. You increased the suction around him, the pressure of your lips, and you were doing something with your tongue that was making him want to pin you to the wall and fuck you till you saw stars. But you asked for this, and he would let you have your fun. Then he would have his. Your eyes were watering and any other time your tears would break his heart, but right now they had it racing, his breath quickening, hands shaking. 

“You're taking me so well baby, doing so good for me…” He praised, knowing you loved it when he coaxed you on, though he was starting to suspect that there may have been more to it than just his words. “My pretty girl…” 

You moaned around him at that and he shuddered at the sensation. 

“Fuck, sweetheart…” He groaned. Your hand came up and gripped the base of him, using it in tandem with your mouth to stroke him. The pleasure was too much and he was walking the edge like a tightrope. 

“Baby, I’m so close… you’re doing such a good job, don’t stop sweetheart.” He ground out through his teeth as he leaned harder against the wall. Needing its support to get through the intensity of what he felt building. “You’re such a good girl, so fucking perfect for me.”

He barely noticed it, caught it by chance more than anything, but your thighs tightened at his words, and you shifted on your knees as though you were seeking any kind of friction… and you found it, grinding against your heel as you kept sucking him like he was the best thing you’d ever tasted. 

“Fuck…” He moaned. “Baby I’m about to come.” 

You didn’t pull away, you just looked back up and maintained eye contact, then took him all the way to the back of your throat. Aaron came so hard his vision went fuzzy and his head ached. 

“Fuck, sweetheart…” he moaned again, and as his vision cleared he saw you lick him clean. He couldn’t remember ever wanting anything as badly as he wanted to kiss you at that moment.

He went to his knees in front of you, cupping your face and the nape of your neck in his hands, and pulled you to him until your lips crashed into his. He could taste himself on your lips and it was intoxicating, they parted for him as soon as he prodded at them with his tongue. Yours tangled with his and you whimpered softly into his mouth. He couldn’t get enough of you, he wanted to kiss every inch of your skin. He wanted to taste you. He wanted to make you fall apart on his tongue. Aaron moaned at the thought and he couldn’t think of anything else. He was desperate for it. For you. 

Kissing his way down your neck, he thought he’d probably left a mark or two as he sucked and nipped at your skin, but he kept going blazing a trail down your chest to your gorgeous breasts. If he had the patience he could've spent an hour on each one individually, but he was feeling every bit as impatient as you normally were. Water was running down his face and into his mouth and nose but he didn’t care.

“Stand up.” He murmured against your breast just before he lightly sank his teeth into the curve of it. 

“What?” You gasped, distractedly. 

“Stand up for me baby.” He repeated, tugging at your hips. 

He kissed down the plane of your stomach as you rose to your feet and then he pushed you gently until your back was flat against the wall. Nudging your legs apart he scooted forward so that his knees were between your feet and then he grasped your thigh from behind your leg and lifted it up to rest on his shoulder, then did the same to the other. You didn’t question him, didn’t even hesitate, trusting him completely. Just threaded your fingers into his hair with both hands to steady yourself on his shoulders. Which only made him more desperate to have you. He gripped your ass with both hands, to help him balance you and keep you steady as he rose up straight on his knees and buried his face in your pussy. Eating you out like you were his last meal. And he would’ve been content with that had it been true. 

He went straight in with his tongue, fucking you with it without any preamble. His nose was pressed into your clit and he could not breathe, but who needed air when this was the alternative. Your taste was addicting and he couldn’t get enough of it. He licked you from the bottom of your cunt’s opening to the tip of your clit, then sucked it into his mouth, rolling it with his tongue. Your thighs clamped around his head, muffling the sound of your cries.  Which was a shame, because they were music to his ears… Pulling you closer and leaning forward so that the wall took most of your weight–not that he’d noticed it before–he took one hand off your ass and caressed your entrance with his middle finger before pushing it inside. Then added his ring finger as well. He found that sensitive spot that made your legs shake and massaged it slowly as he sucked steadily on your clit. Your hands tightened in his hair and he groaned at the sting, squeezing your ass in response. You were making the most beautiful sounds, his name falling off your lips like a prayer every few seconds. He could feel the walls of your pussy fluttering around his fingers, your thighs were trembling on his shoulders and tightening around his head with every passing moment. He didn’t have to glance up to know that your head would be thrown back, your mouth open in a perfect ‘O’, your cheeks flushed pink, and your eyes squeezed shut. 

“Aaron!” It was nearly a scream, and your body went limp against the wall, but he had you. He would not let you fall. He licked at your pussy until your legs stopped shaking and then he lowered you slowly from his shoulders down to his waist, wrapping your legs around his waist and sitting back on his heels to hold you. 

“Are you okay baby?” He murmured, pressing soft kisses to your forehead and cheek as you rested your head against his shoulder. 

“Mm hmm…” You whimpered, then mumbled, “I’m so good.” 

“Yeah?” He asked, only a tad bit smugly. 

“Oh yeah…” You murmured back, wiggling closer to his body, and then pausing suddenly. He knew why… but he waited to see what you’d do about it. You giggled. 

“What’s so funny?” He murmured, not insecurely, no. He was amused and wanted to hear exactly what about this situation you found so laughable. 

“You’re hard again already, you just came a few minutes ago. You’re insatiable.” You giggled again. 

“You tend to have that effect on me.” He let his voice drop into a low rasp. “Your pussy is addicting.” 

You shivered and a small whimper fought its way free of your lips. He smiled.

“Tell me something pretty girl…” He murmured, “You like it when I talk dirty to you? Is that right?” 

You sat up a little and looked at him with curious eyes, then nodded your head. 

“Mm hmm.” You hummed. 

“Is it the words that I say? Or is it my voice that gets you excited?” He mused. 

“I’m not sure…” You shrugged, then whispered shyly. “I just know that I like it…”

“Hmmm.” He studied you as he spoke next, letting his voice drift into that same low rasp again. “If I said, you are just as beautiful to me right now—with your hair all wet and messy, with your makeup smudged and nearly gone—as you were on that stage at the club the night this all started… how does that make you feel?” 

You flushed a soft pink and your eyes filled with an emotion he recognized but didn’t dare name. 

“Like the most lucky woman on the planet…” You whispered, smiling at him. “And like I really want to kiss you.” 

He smiled and leaned in, kissing you softly, then pulling away again—just slightly—to watch your face. 

“How about if I said, there’s nothing I want to do more right now than fuck you against the wall of this shower until the only thing you can do is moan my name?” He asked in a tone that wouldn’t have been out of place if he were asking about the weather. You blinked at him for a second, a look of shock and confusion on your face… until what he had said truly sank in. Then you started to blush and your eyes grew heated again. 

“Say it again… but how you said the other thing.” You murmured shyly. He smirked at you, leaned in close so you would be able to feel his breath on your skin.

“I want to fuck you against the wall of this shower until the only thing you can do is moan my name…” He said softly, in that same low raspy tone that seemed to do things to you. 

Your thighs tightened around his waist, your breath quickened and that little whimper made an encore. 

“That answers that question…” He murmured, then he smirked at you and said, “Now… about that wall?” 

Aaron’s arms had been wrapped around you when you’d fallen asleep–in his bed–but they were gone now… that’s what woke you. His absence. You had sat straight up in the bed, and for a moment, this hotel room looked like every other hotel room you’d stayed in for the last year. Your heart had stopped. You were alone again… had it all been another dream? 

“Aaron!?” You’d called out in a panic. And there he was. Charging back into the room and kneeling at your side in an instant. 

“I’m here, Honey. What’s wrong?” He murmured. But the anxiety had set in and you couldn’t contain the tears that rose to your eyes and fell down your cheeks, or the way your chest was heaving and yet you felt like none of the oxygen was making it to your lungs. 

“Shit…” He whispered. “It’s okay baby, I’m right here… I’m here. Hey, look at me, look at my eyes.” 

You did as he asked without question, looking into his eyes. 

“That’s good, sweetheart, now breathe with me. In four, out four.” He coaxed, you nodded. “In 1, 2, 3, 4. Good job, baby, now out 1, 2, 3, 4. Good, again.” 

You breathed with him as he held your hand to his chest. 

In 1, 2, 3, 4. Out 1, 2, 3, 4. 

“Good girl, you did so good, baby. Can you tell me what happened? Was it a nightmare?” He praised softly and questioned so gently, hold your hands. You shook your head. 

“I woke up and I thought… I thought I was alone again. I- I thought I’d dreamt it. All of it.” You explained. He nodded, and then pulled you to his chest. Sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling you into his lap. 

“I’m sorry baby, I just went to answer the door, Morgan and Prentiss wouldn’t stop knocking and I didn’t want them to wake you.” He murmured against your hair, rubbing your arm and squeezing you tighter. “I won’t leave you alone like that without telling you first again, I promise.” 

You took a few more deep breaths and then sat up and looked at him. 

“What did Morgan and Prentiss need?” You asked softly. He smiled. 

“You weren’t answering your door, so they panicked.” He informs you. 

“In our defense… She did just testify against a major drug trafficking ring that has been trying to kill her for over a year.” Derek’s voice floated in from the hall. “I’m pretty sure our freak out was justified!” 

You giggled, and squirmed out of Aaron’s arms, practically bouncing to the door to see them. You’d missed them. No where near as much as you’d missed Aaron… but you’d missed them so much it’d been painful. They were standing just inside the door, in the little entryway to the room. You just hadn’t been able to see them from the bed. 

“Hey there Foxy, you okay?” Derek asked, wrapping you up in a Morgan bearhug. 

“I’m fine now.” You answered, hugging him back tightly and then moving to Emily to squeeze the life out of her. “I missed you guys.” 

“We missed you too!” She smiled as she pulled back to look at you. “I can’t wait to sit down and catch up. We’re way overdue for a girl’s night. We haven’t had one since you left.” 

You almost teared up at that. 

“Girls night, as soon as we get back to Virginia!” You promised her. 

“It’s a date!” She agreed and you beamed at her.  Then your stomach growled… Loudly. Arms wrapped around you from behind, lips brushing your ear before falling on your cheek. 

“Did you eat after you got out of court?” Aaron murmured as he left a kiss there. 

“I came straight here with Rossi and then I went to sleep.” You confessed, peering up at him sheepishly. 

“Why don’t you two go gather the others and we’ll order in and have a team dinner.” Aaron suggested to Derek and Emily. 

“That sounds great!” Emily said enthusiastically. 

As soon as the door closed behind them, you found yourself pinned to the wall with Aaron’s tongue nearly down your throat. When the surprise wore off, you kissed him back vigorously and threaded your fingers into his hair at the nape of his neck. His hands gripped your ass and hauled you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist. Carrying you over to the bed he walked to the middle on his knees before lowering you to the mattress, only breaking the kiss to keep from falling on top of you as he lowered himself down over you. You let your hands roam… everywhere. His shoulders, his back, chest, neck, you even got brave enough to cop a feel of his ass. Which–to your delight–made him moan, then cup your pussy through your pants in a very sexy form of retaliation. 

“Fuck, Aaron…” You moaned against his lips… And then there was a knock at the door. 

“Already!?” He groaned, in what sounded like despair. You laughed at his frustration. 

“You said the word dinner and you thought they’d take more than five minutes?” You teased him. 

“I thought they’d take at least five minutes… five minutes was all we would’ve needed.” He grumbled, “It’s been two. I’ve been dying to get my hands on you again for hours.” 

You giggled. 

“It hasn’t been that long…” You rolled your eyes. 

“You slept for six hours honey.” He grinned down at you and kissed your nose. 

“Why didn’t you wake me?! I wouldn’t have minded at all!” You told him. “Especially if you woke me up like this.” 

“Sweetheart… you clearly needed sleep…” He murmured, kissing you again. 

There was another knock at the door followed by a muffled. “I know there’s no way they managed to get their clothes off in the two minutes we were gone!” 

You laughed at Derek’s slightly exasperated tone. 

“We better get the door, or they might actually think we’re fucking again.” You joked. 

“We would’ve been if they took the five minutes I’d banked on.” He grumbled. You just laughed again and wiggled your way out from under him, going to the door. 

“Sorry!” You said as you opened it, “We went back into my room to get a take out menu, there wasn’t one in here for some reason.” 

You said the last part over your shoulder, loud enough for Aaron to hear, so he would get up and grab the take out menu off the night stand and play along. What you weren’t expecting, however, was to be tackled as soon as you turned to face them. 

“OH MY GOD! YOU’RE HERE!! YOU’RE REALLY HERE!” it was a–very–high pitched squeal, a squeal that you would have known anywhere. 

“PENELOPE?!?!” You squealed back, throwing your arms around her and squeezing her back, just as tightly. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!?!” 

“I HAD TO TESTIFY THIS MORNING AFTER YOU DID!! I’VE BEEN DYING TO COME TALK TO YOU ALL DAY BUT THEY TOLD ME I HAD TO WAIT BECAUSE SOMEBODY DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO SHARE!!!” She screeched. 

“Aye, my ears…” Rossi complained, “Please take it down a bit my dears, the dogs in the next county over can hear you.” 

Everyone laughed and you pulled Penelope back into the room with you as the rest of them followed. Aaron was sitting against the headboard, takeout menu in hand as you crawled over him—dragging Penelope with you—to the center of the bed. You settle in next to him, with Pen on your other side, then Emily and JJ flopped down together on the end of the bed. While Morgan, Reid and Rossi settled in the three chairs that were in the room. 

“Where are we ordering from?” Spencer asked as soon as there was a brief moment of quiet. 

Chaos ensued for the next ten minutes. Until, finally, everyone agreed on pizza because that was fastest and they could be sure that everyone had an option they would like. The pizza place was also close by and delivered. Aaron picked up the phone off the night stand–instead of using his cellphone, like a normal person–and called the pizza place. While he was occupied, Derek got your attention. 

“Hey Foxy.” He called, and you didn’t mind the nickname at all… You were just glad to have them all back. 

“Hmm?” You hummed in response, looking over at him. 

“Settle something for me and Reid, please?” He requested. 

“Shoot.” You nodded. You should’ve known better. A shit eating grin spread across his face and you felt the urge to roll your eyes. 

“How long were you and Hotch bumpin’ uglies before we caught you?” He asked teasingly. The answer to that question was… embarrassing. You could feel your face turning red just thinking about how quickly you’d been caught and how it had started… 

“Eww, Morgan… bumpin’ uglies??? You couldn’t have phrased it any better than that?” JJ groaned and scrunched her face up in disgust. 

“Yeah!” Prentiss joined in, or at least… you thought she was defending you, until she said, “You could’ve just asked her how long they’d been fucking and it would’ve sounded less gross.” 

You covered your face with your hands, glancing sideways at Aaron to find he was still talking to the pizza shop worker who must’ve been incompetent judging by the tone of Aaron’s voice and the look on his face. He’d not be coming to your rescue then. 

“Oh come on, guys!” Penelope squeezed your arm that was threaded through hers tightly. “It’s clearly more than that! Look at them… they’re in love!” 

You felt your eyes bug out of your head. In love? 

You looked over at Aaron, the way his hand was resting on your thigh protectively, how you had settled in close enough to lean against him without truly leaning, how your leg had instinctively tucked itself under his. Your body was naturally drawn to him. He felt you looking and glanced over at you with a soft smile, then squeezed your thigh affectionately. 

“Just a second, Honey.” He murmured. “I can’t get someone on the phone who understands what I’m asking for. I really don’t think it's that hard. We want two pepperoni, two cheese, and one that’s half supreme and half ham and pineapple because for some reason you and Garcia enjoy that abomination. Hold on, they got the manager.” 

Then he went back to his phone call, none the wiser to the chaos happening around him and the mortification you were experiencing. 

“Awww he called her Honey! See! I told you! They’re so sweet!” Penelope exclaimed. 

“It was pretty cute…” Morgan admitted begrudgingly. 

“Okay, okay, okay!” Prentiss interrupted impatiently. “I’ve been waiting for a year to get answers!” 

You looked over at Rossi pleadingly, but he was scrolling on his phone, pretending not to listen. Traitor.

“So when did you and Hotch make it official?” Emily asked, laying on her stomach and propping up on her elbows with her chin in the palms of her hands. She looked almost girlish like this. But you thought about her question, and realized… you didn’t have an answer. 

“We haven’t actually had that conversation…” You murmured quietly. “We’ve never even been on a date…” 

“What?!?!?!” All three girls exclaimed at once. Aaron glanced over with a harsh look, silently shushing them. You bumped his shoulder gently and he softened immediately, giving you a smile. 

“Oh my God, they’re so fucking cute.” Penelope was practically giddy. “But what do you mean you’ve never been on a date!” 

“That’s really not that surprising.” Spencer said, joining the circus. “Lots of relationships start sexually and turn emotional later so many couples find they’ve been together months before they ever actually go out on a date.” 

Everyone but Aaron turned and stared at Reid in various degrees of shock and disbelief. 

“What?” He asked. 

“Nothing…” JJ murmured, “You’re just… not wrong…” 

“How is that, in any way, surprising?” He looked so thoroughly confused. 

“In this case… there are too many ways to count…” Prentiss muttered. 

“Hey, be nice to him!” You protested, scowling at them. 

“You won’t be so protective of him when you hear his theory.”  Derek smirked smugly. Oh boy… 

“What do you mean?” You asked, and immediately knew you’d regret it. 

“We’ve been trying to pin down exactly when the two of you hit it off, and we keep disagreeing.” Morgan explained. 

“Why?” 

“I can’t imagine Hotch being that okay with his girl going undercover as a stripper, especially not when the op was that dangerous. The girls think it started a long time before the op even happened, or at least that you two were tiptoeing around it. Rossi refuses to weigh in–which means he knows the answer because Hotch told him–and he won’t give us any hints either. But Reid… well… Pretty boy thinks it started during the op itself, which makes literally no sense because you two didn’t even have any contact during the op, you were undercover and only talked to us over the burner phone once a week.” Derek keeps explaining his reasoning as to why Reid’s theory is ridiculous, but you weren’t listening any more. Your head had snapped—involuntarily—in Reid’s direction, eyes wide, finding him already studying you closely. 

“I knew it!” He exclaimed after a moment. “I knew I was right!” 

“Right about what?” Aaron asked, finally hanging up the phone. 

“I’ve been getting the third degree for the last five minutes, save me.” You murmured in his ear. He turned his head and kissed the tip of your nose. 

“That’s nauseatingly adorable…” Emily muttered. 

“What is Reid right about?” Aaron asked, ignoring her. 

“You two got together, during the undercover op, yes or no?” Spencer queried, his face set in determination. 

“Yes.” Aaron said easily. 

“What?!?!?!” The girls and Derek exclaimed, at the same time that Reid hissed out an excited, “YES!! I win!”

“That’s why we haven’t been on a date…” You murmured. “We never got a chance…” 

“Wait so, how did that even happen?” JJ asked. “When did you have time to start a relationship while she was undercover?” 

You and Aaron shared a glance, a silent conversation passing between you. We are not telling them that story. You hoped your face conveyed. Agreed. His slight nod told you he understood.

“When he went into the club to tell her about the shipment that we thought was coming in.” Spencer chimed in. “It was the only time that made any sense. Hotch went in on edge, spent an hour with her in a room we couldn’t see into, then came out very relaxed and way too happy, until it wore off and then he was even more rigid and strict than he usually is. He started staying in the van and watching the CCTV obsessively. Like he was afraid to take his eyes off her. It was pretty obvious in hindsight.”

He had? You hadn’t known that. Spencer wasn’t done.

“Then there was the taking turns outside her apartment thing and when we got her out he was never out of arm’s distance from her. He was nearly constantly touching her in some way and I thought it was weird, but then I figured maybe she was just a little shaken up and disoriented and he was using physical touch to ground her. Then I saw the way he was looking at her, it was nearly constant and so concerned, but she would smile at him and he would smile back and relax… I should’ve seen it then.” Spencer said, even though he obviously had seen it. He just hadn’t known what it was until a few days later. You found yourself gazing up at Aaron. Studying him quietly. 

“I was afraid to take my eyes off her, I had just asked her to do something incredibly dangerous and I– had feelings for her, strong feelings, even that early on… I relied on you all so much that last two weeks, that's why I asked you all to weigh in on every decision regarding her, because I was concerned that my emotions would get in the way.” He admitted quietly, but he wasn’t ashamed of it. You had no idea that he’d felt that strongly about you that soon… you had no idea he felt that strongly about you now… 

You knew you had very strong feelings for him. He was the most attentive, caring, sweet man you’d ever been with. He was more emotionally mature than you could believe, he treated you with such respect… but was also capable of ruining you in bed. He knew what made you tic, and he’d learned all of that in such a short amount of time. You couldn’t imagine what your relationship would look like in the next few months… or years? God, you hoped you were still with him in a few years… this was a kind of passion that you didn’t know if you would be able to recover from if it ended badly… 

“Uh oh, Foxy… better be careful… you look like you're all up in love over there.” Morgan’s voice broke through your reverie. 

I think I am… You thought, without ever looking away from Aaron. 

The whole room went silent. Aaron turned his head and gave you the most tender, adoring smile you thought you’d ever seen. 

“You do?” He asked softly, almost cautiously. 

You blinked at him, furrowing your brow in confusion. 

“What?” You murmured, you hadn’t said anything… had you?

“You said you think you are.” He whispered back. 

Oh shit.

“I said that out loud?” You breathed, panic building in your chest. 

He nodded. 

“You did, sweetheart.” He was beaming at you. 

“I-” You didn’t know what to say. You could feel every eye in the room on you, but all you cared about was Aaron, and you wanted to be honest with him. “Yeah… I do.” 

“Just to be sure I am not imagining this… you think you’re in love with me?” He asked quietly. 

“Yeah, Aaron, I’m in love with you.” You said with the certainty you now felt in that statement. “I know it’s… soon? Kinda… but–” 

He kissed you. 

On the lips right in front of the entire team. 

But as his lips met yours… you forgot they existed. 

It was the sweetest, softest kiss and you got completely lost in it. 

Lost in him.

“I love you too, Pretty Girl.” He murmured against your lips, tucking your hair behind your ear as he pulled away. “I was just waiting for the right time to tell you.”

The two of you just stared at each other in silence for a moment, completely oblivious to the fact that you had an audience. 

Until one such viewer could no longer contain her excitement. 

“Oh my God… did that just? Was that?” Garcia sputtered. “Did we just witness their first I love yous?!” 

“Yes, and you’re ruining the moment Baby Girl, chill.” Derek chided softly. 

You giggled, and Aaron leaned in and kissed you once more. Just a chaste peck to the lips, but it melted you. 

He wrapped an arm around your waist and tucked you in close, holding you tightly to his side. You buried your face in his shoulder, not embarrassed, but a little overwhelmed. He just pressed a kiss to the top of your head and squeezed you a little tighter… He understood. 

And so did JJ. 

“Hey so what happened on the roof earlier today!?” She asked suddenly, taking the attention off of you. 

You felt the energy in the room shift, but Aaron’s attention was still on you and as Emily said, “Oh my God, Hotch almost gave me a heart attack is what happened.” 

He leaned in to whisper, “Are you okay, Honey?”

You peered up at him and smiled, “Yeah, I’m okay.” 

He kissed your nose, and since everyone else’s attention was now on Prentiss, you turned to pay attention, resting your head on his shoulder. 

“When I shot the guy, he fell behind the parapet and I lost sight of him. Then Hotch came out of the roof access and there he was, right behind him. He pistol whipped Hotch and made him fall, and then the guy fell, I couldn’t see them after that.” Emily explained.

Aaron picked up the story from there. 

“I kicked his feet out from under him and got on top of him, then I hit him a few times… but I didn’t see the gun, and the next thing I knew I was looking down the barrel of a forty four.” Aaron murmured, and your heart stopped. 

You knew–obviously–that he was fine, but you still didn’t like hearing that he’d been literally staring death in the face just hours earlier.

“That’s when I came out onto the roof, and I made enough racket that it distracted the guy so that Hotch could swat the gun away from his face, then the guy pulled the trigger and I kicked him in the head.” Morgan filled in the rest. 

“Jesus, Hotch, are you alright?” JJ asked, her voice laced with fear and concern. 

“I’m fine, just a powder burn, that’s all.” Aaron murmured, turning his head to show them the small burn. 

“What about your ear?” Prentiss asked, “Did the gunshot re-injure it?” 

That caught you off guard, you jerked your head up to look at him. 

“Your ear?! What about your ear?!” You asked, and your voice cracked. 

“Honey, are you crying?” He shot back, wiping tears away from your face. 

You hadn’t realized you’d been crying, but you didn’t care, you wanted to know what was wrong with his ear. 

“Nevermind that, tell me about your ear.” You demanded. 

He sighed, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. 

“A few years ago I had a close call with a car bomb, it blew out my eardrum. It still bothers me sometimes, but I’m mostly fine.” He explained, “I asked the doctor about it at the ER and he said he didn’t see any new damage, I’m okay.”

You took a deep breath, nodding your head and staring blankly at the wall for a minute. 

“Okay.” You sighed, relief flooded your body and you relaxed against his side again. 

You realized that the focus was back on the two of you again, soft knowing smiles on all their faces. 

“Oh my god, Reid, how's your nose?” You asked, to get the attention off you for a minute. 

“It’s okay, I’ve had worse.” He shrugged, “I should have known better than to just grab you like that. Especially after a gunshot.You’re right hook is tough though.” 

“That wasn’t a right hook, but thank you.” You giggled. 

There was a knock at the door, and every head in the room turned toward the sound. Then chaos ensued as Spencer and Derek rushed for the door. 

“Do you two even have cash to tip the driver?” Rossi called exasperatedly, as he got up to follow them. 

“I better go referee that before those two mess around and drop the pizza.” Aaron muttered, dropping a kiss to your head and following the rest of the men to the door. 

He was gone for all of two seconds before the girls pounced on you. 

“Okay spill.” Emily demanded. 

“Spill what?” You asked. 

“Cut the shit, we only have a minute before they come back and we know what we heard that night.” She ranted. “You were getting dicked down and from the way you sounded, it was good.” 

You blushed. 

“I don’t know about dicked down…” You muttered, “It was more like… retaliatory head.” 

Prentiss snorted. 

“Retaliatory head?” JJ asked, “What does that even mean?” 

“Yes please, do tell… and spare no details.” Penelope giggled. 

You chuckled quietly. 

“He knew that you guys knew he’d been with me all day and that he tried to lie about it to Morgan that morning, but I didn’t know so I tried to lie to you guys…” You started, and they nodded that they knew that much. “I thought he was asleep. But when I called him… oh what was it… A stubborn mule! Yes, when I called him a stubborn mule he revealed himself to be very much awake. When I called him geriatric… he decided to wage war… with his tongue.” 

“Oh wow…” JJ murmured. “Was it good?” 

“What do you mean ‘was it good?!’” Garcia exclaimed. “You heard her just as clearly as we did! But, for the sake of science… was it?” 

You laughed. 

“Let's just say, we’ve only had five…encounters… but I’ve had ten orgasms… the man is a giver, in every sense of the word.” You teased, giving them just enough to satisfy their morbid curiosity. Shock and awe. That was the only way you could describe their faces. Then, after a long minute of silence, Emily nodded. 

“Ya know what, yeah, that checks out.” She conceded, “Hotch does seem like that type.” 

“What type?” Aaron’s voice came from the entry way as the guys walked back in. 

You all froze and looked at each other for a second, slight panic on all your faces. 

“Uh… The generous type.” You explained cryptically, and not at all suspiciously… Nope, not one bit.

He raised an eyebrow at you, a slight smirk on his lips. 

“They were definitely talking about sex.” Derek grinned slyly as he flopped down in his chair again. 

“Oh, fuck off and eat your pizza!” You grumbled. 

He just cackled knowing he was right. 

“Well… You guys are really cute.” JJ offered softly, “We’re glad to see you both happy.” 

Em and Pen nodded in agreement. 

“Thanks guys.” You murmured, and they got up to go get some pizza that Spencer and Rossi were sitting on the table. Arms wrapped around your waist, and lips traced your neck. 

“I’m generous, huh?” He murmured in your ear, in the tone that made you ache for him. 

“Forget whatever you heard, and I’ll show you how generous I can be as soon as the others go to bed.” You bribed him.

“Oh?” He nipped your ear, “Who’s the giver now?” 

Your face burned bright red. 

“Get a room!!” Emily jeered, playfully and you both glanced up to find everyone watching you with smiles on their faces. 

“You’re in our room.” Aaron reminded her. 

Laughter erupted around the room and your heart swelled. It was so good to be back, to be here with this team–with this family–and to have Aaron’s arms around you again. 

You were home.

Tag List: @beesin03 @marvel-jess @creepy-story-lover28 @thegamingsushicat @zaddyhotch @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @mystargirl-interlude @misaccc @newtomofgods  @arhaenyra @sagereader @lc35732 @oldmanbunnylover @girlnerd116

[moontannedmunson]

I'm Not Your Buddy | E.M.

⋆˚꩜｡pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader ⋆˚꩜｡summary: You know that TikTok trend where you call your partner a "friend" to see their reaction? Yeah… Eddie wasn't too happy about that ⋆˚꩜｡tags/tw: explicit sexual content 18+minors do not interact | no y/n, afab!fem!reader, modern!eddie, est. relationship, oral (f!receiving), unprotected p in v, multiple orgasms, squirting, praise?, soft!dom!eddie, possessive language (non toxic), aftercare, weed mention ⋆˚꩜｡word count: 3.9k+ ⋆˚꩜｡a/n: based on this request i got! thank you @theswitch-witch for giving me the idea thehee<3

One of the things you loved most about Eddie was that he didn’t give a rat’s ass about social media.

It was mainly because Wayne raised him right. Eddie had grown up learning to play guitar and spending most of his time playing outside or at the library. He was sixteen when he got his first fancy phone; before that, he’d carried around an old brick of a cell phone that had once belonged to his uncle. Safe to say, he’d never really bought into the whole social media thing.

Sure, he had an instagram account. He barely used it himself, but he loved seeing the pictures you posted — the ones he’d taken of you — and he never failed to leave embarrassingly sweet and suggestive comments underneath them that made even your best friends blush.

Another thing you absolutely loved about Eddie was that he was possessive.

Not in a toxic way. Eddie never tried to control you or excessively claim you, nor did he treat you like you were anything less than your own independent person. He never isolated you from your friends or questioned where you were every second of the day.

He was possessive in the way that he never missed an opportunity to remind everyone that he belonged to you. He’d proudly walk around with the hickeys and scratches you’d left him, grinning smugly whenever someone pointed them out with a dubious look.

“Courtesy of my princess,” he’d say without a single ounce of shame.

You were his favourite subject, how could you not be? Eddie could spend hours talking about you. He could write ridiculous, overly dramatic sonnets about your laugh and the way your nose scrunched whenever something genuinely amused you. He could probably design an entire comic series inspired by the way your hair danced in the wind. Hell, he’d tattoo your fucking name across his neck if you asked him to.

That’s how hopelessly, ridiculously obsessed and possessive he was with you.

Which was exactly why, the moment you stumbled across the trend on TikTok, you knew you had to try it on him.

The calling your boyfriend your ‘friend’ trend.

It was stupid, and it was evil, and it was going to drive Eddie absolutely fucking insane.

Even though he didn’t care much for TikTok, or any other platform for that matter, Eddie always jumped at the chance to do whatever random thing you wanted.

“What are we doing again?”

“Uh…” you mumbled, balancing your phone on the kitchen counter. “There’s this viral…”

Taking a few steps back, you gently pulled Eddie by the wrist until he was standing beside you, squinting at the screen to check whether the lighting was good enough. Scrunching your nose, you gave his wrist another little tug when you noticed he’d drifted just outside the frame.

“Stay right here,” you instructed. “Do not move.”

Turning around, you walked over to the fridge, grabbed the light blue can, and returned to his side.

“There’s this viral beverage I wanted to try.”

“…And you wanted to get that on camera?” he asked quietly, the words carrying just the slightest hint of hesitation.

“Uh, yeah. Pretty much.”

You placed the can on the counter and shot him a sweet smile over your shoulder.

Eddie simply shrugged, nodding as though your explanation made perfect sense. “Alright. Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

“Ready?”

“I guess.”

With one smooth swipe, you switched your phone from photo to video, started the timer, and hurried back into place. You gave Eddie one last tug when he instinctively stepped out of frame again.

“Hey, guys!” you greeted brightly once the recording started, smiling at the camera as you reached forwards to grab the can. “I’m here with my friend Eddie today.”

Beside you, Eddie — who had been smiling awkwardly at the camera ever since you’d hit record — immediately stopped smiling.

“And today we’re gonna try the new Spindrift drink!”

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing when you noticed Eddie turning his face towards you.

“What—”

Before he could finish, you held the can towards the camera as though clinking it against the screen before turning back to him.

“You wanna go first, bud?” you asked as you popped the tab up and broke the lid open.

Eddie, who had been staring at you with wide, uncertain brown eyes, slowly turned to look at your phone like he was a character on The Office.

For a long second, he simply stared at the screen. His gaze drifted down to the pretty light blue dress you’d put on — somehow the exact same shade as the can in your hand — before slowly lifting back to meet your eyes.

“…What the fuck?” The words came out equal parts confused and unamused.

“What do you mean?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows as you continued holding the can out for him to take.

“Bud?” His nose wrinkled as though the word itself left a bad taste in his mouth. “Friend?”

“…Uh, yeah,” you replied slowly, tilting your head in practiced confusion. “What?”

“What do you mean, what?” His eyebrows remained knitted together as the corners of his mouth slowly turned down. “Did I… did I do something?”

“We’re literally just trying this drink.” You let out a small laugh, pulling a face as though he’d just said the most ridiculous thing imaginable. “Why are you acting weird?”

“Me? Acting weird?” Eddie repeated, hesitantly lifting a hand to scratch at his jaw. “You just… called me your friend.”

“Uh, yeah?” you scoffed. “What’s the big deal?”

“The big…” He blinked at you, looking completely lost. “Sweetheart, why do you keep calling me your friend?”

“Because you are?”

“No, I’m not.” Eddie shook his head, sounding almost offended by the suggestion. “I’m your boyfriend.”

“Exactly.” You nodded matter-of-factly. “My boy,” you paused dramatically, “friend.”

The second the last word left your mouth, a tiny snort escaped. Your hand flew up to cover your mouth as you hastily disguised it with a cough, praying Eddie hadn’t noticed.

But he had.

The longer you looked at him, the harder it became to keep the act going.

Eddie’s bewildered expression slowly gave way to suspicion as he watched your nose scrunch behind your hand, your shoulders beginning to shake with poorly concealed laughter.

“…You’re bullshitting me.”

Eddie rested his hands on his hips like an exhausted father of three and turned his head towards the phone. His teeth found his lower lip as he worried it beneath them for a moment before slowly looking back at you, one eyebrow raised in complete disbelief.

“Friend,” he scoffed, shaking his head. “I’m gonna show you fucking friend.”

He stared at you for another long second before finally reaching over and taking the can from your hand, setting it carefully back down on the counter.

Before you had a chance to react, he reached for your phone, tapping the bright red button to stop the recording.

Eddie left your phone exactly where it was before slowly turning back to face you. The look he gave you was one you knew all too well; you rarely got to see it, which only made it all the more memorable.

His eyebrows were drawn together, his lips pressed into a thin line of annoyance as he tilted his head back just slightly.

“You know…” he began slowly, dragging the tip of his tongue across his lower lip before continuing. “You’re real fucking funny, sweetheart.”

“Eds—”

He barely gave you a second to react before scooping you up into his arms and effortlessly throwing you over his shoulder.

“Maybe we should show your TikTok followers what I’m about to do to you, huh?”

You watched the black-and-white checkered kitchen floor slowly disappear beneath you as Eddie carried you out of the room.

“Eddie, what are you—”

“I’m gonna show you what a great friend I am,” he scoffed.

As if to prove his point that he was the furthest thing from being your friend — like you needed the reminder — he gave your ass a hard slap as he stepped into the hallway leading to your shared bedroom.

A startled shriek escaped you at the sudden sting of his palm, and you immediately began squirming in his hold, hoping to convince him to put you back — but no such luck, unfortunately. Eddie merely tightened his grip around your legs, a low, humourless chuckle rumbling from his chest as he nudged the bedroom door open with his socked foot.

He swiftly pushed the bedroom door shut behind the two of you with the heel of his foot before taking a few slow steps towards the bed — the fresh linens perfectly made from earlier that morning, when you’d changed them.

Carelessly, Eddie lowered you onto the mattress, letting you bounce lightly against it before straightening back up. He dragged a hand through his hair, pushing his unruly curls away from his face as he stood at the foot of the bed, broad shoulders filling the space with an almost unfair amount of confidence.

“I’m not your buddy,” he said, his voice low as you pushed yourself upright. “And I’m not your friend either.”

“Eddie, baby,” you began with a small, sheepish smile, tilting your head to one side. “It was just a—”

“I’m your boyfriend,” he interrupted without missing a beat. “But I guess you need a little reminder of that, hm?”

“I-I though you were gonna show me—”

“And I think you’ve said enough already, hm?” he scoffed.

Eddie didn’t miss a beat before making his way over to the vintage dresser the two of you’d found in that little antique shop a few weeks ago.

“Last time I checked,” he began slowly, dragging the tip of his finger across the worn wooden surface, “you didn’t share this fucking dresser with Robin.”

Another chuckle escaped him. Dry and amused this time, despite the mischievous glimmer dancing in his eyes that gave away just how much fun he was actually having.

“And all that talk about adopting a ferret together?” He held up two fingers as he continued listening off his evidence. “Sorry, sweetheart, but adopting an animal isn’t exactly something you do with your friends. Not usually.”

Leaning back against the dresser, Eddie folded his arms across his chest and looked at you with a cocky grin stretching across his face.

“You know what else isn’t something friends do?” He arched an eyebrow, though the look in his eyes made it clear he wasn’t actually expecting an answer. “The three orgasms I’m about to give you, just to prove my point.”

“T-three?” you gulped. “I’ve never—”

“Exactly.” He nodded slowly, the smug grin tugging wider at the corners of his mouth. “One orgasm for each time you called me something I’m not.”

Eddie uncrossed his arms, resting them against the dresser behind him as his fingers lazily drummed against the worn wooden surface, his eyes never once leaving you.

The baby blue dress looked painfully good on you. It hugged your waist in all the right places, and the neckline…

Jesus.

It drove Eddie nearly as insane as the little stunt you’d pulled in the kitchen not even five minutes earlier.

His dark brown eyes wandered slowly over your face before drifting down the length of your body, lingering for just a moment before finding yours again.

Pushing himself away from the dresser, he closed the distance between you with slow, unhurried steps. The mattress dipped beneath his weight as he climbed onto the bed, both hands sinking into the duvet on either side of you until his nose barely brushed yours.

Eddie looked at you through his lashes, a smug grin slowly spreading across his plush lips as he watched your own part ever so slightly.

“What?” he murmured. “Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?”

A quiet chuckle escaped him before he leaned in, pressing a slow, gentle kiss to your lips. He lingered there for a long moment, savouring it, before finally pulling away and settling back onto his heels.

Eddie’s hand lazily curled around the neckline of his black t-shirt, peeling it off without the slightest hint of urgency.

You swallowed as your attention was immediately pulled away from his eyes and towards the tattooed expanse of his chest, busier now than it had been when the two of you had started dating. Your gaze lingered on the newest addition to his collection — a neo-traditional raven inked along the right side of his stomach.

“Eyes up here, sweetheart,” he murmured, a teasing smile tugging at his lips as he gently tipped your chin back up with the crook of a finger.

Without caring where it landed, Eddie tossed the shirt over his shoulder before stepping back from the bed. Standing once again at the foot of the mattress, his fingers slowly trailed down the planes of his stomach until they reached the button of his jeans.

“The dress stays on,” he said quietly.

He undid the button, tugged the zipper down, and let the worn denim fall to the floor with a muted thud.

Eddie’s knees sank back into the mattress, making the bedframe creak underneath his weight. He reached out for your thighs, slowly running his hands up and down your legs until, finally, trailing his fingertips higher until they skimmed the lace trim of your panties. Hooking his fingers into the lace, he slowly dragged your panties down your legs, exposing your glistening folds to his dark brown eyes.

He hummed appreciatively as his fingers ghosted along your slick folds, marvelling at how wet you were for him already.

Leaning down, he captured your mouth in a slow kiss, his tongue swiping across your lower lip as he took his sweet time to taste and explore your mouth like he always did when he wanted to torture you. Eddie swallowed your low gasp, relishing in the soft sounds that escaped you.

Breaking away, Eddie blazed a trail of open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, pausing to lave attention on your pulse points as he nibbled right above your collarbone.

Eddie trailed kisses down your chest, making sure to skip your hardened nipples under the soft fabric of your dress, until his face finally hovered above your aching core. Being the obsessed freak that he was, he breathed in your heady scent before shooting you a smug grin.

“Hold on tight, sweetheart.” He placed a soft, lingering kiss on the inside of your thigh as he reached for one of your hands. He gave you a gentle squeeze before placing your hand on the back of his head. “Because I’ll not be going easy on you.”

With an arched, daring eyebrow, he plunged in, tongue delving deep into your slick heat. He lapped and sucked, worshiping you with lips and teeth and tongue until you were a trembling mess, falling backwards until your head hit the pillows behind you.

Your hips bucked involuntarily at the sudden feeling of Eddie sealing his mouth over your swollen clit, flicking the sensitive bundle of nerves rapidly with the tip of his tongue as he slowly plunged a thick finger knuckle-deep into your tight pussy. He pumped and curled his digit, stroking your slick walls until you were fluttering around him.

“A-ah! F-fuck, Eddie—”

He sucked harder on your clit, adding a second finger into you as he thrusted them faster and deeper until you’re shattering with a broken gasp, your release gushing over his chin as he worked you through the aftershocks.

Holding your gaze, Eddie slid his fingers out of you and pushed them into his mouth. His tongue lapped eagerly at them, licking them clean, while his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure at the way you tasted.

After licking his digits clean, he pulled the top part of your dress down until the fabric sat underneath your breasts. Cupping your boobs, he thumbed your hardened nipples teasingly. Eddie’s dark brown eyes locked onto yours as he slowly rolled one hardened nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tugging harshly. It made pleasure zing straight to your core, making you squirm underneath him. He lavished the same attention to your other nipple, pinching and tweaking it until he had you begging for more.

“P-please, Eds—”

“As you wish, sweetheart.”

Reaching between your bodies, Eddie pushed his boxers down just enough to free his aching length. The sight of his cock made your mouth water every single time — long, thick mushroom tip, and painfully pink.

He notched the broad tip of his cock against your slit, teasing and probing before sinking into your slick pussy with one powerful thrust.

“Is this what a friend does to you? Huh?” He chuckled darkly as he looked down at you. “C’mon, sweetheart. Answer me.”

“Hmm.” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you bit your lip. “N-no.”

He could swear you were molten silk clutching him tight, stroking his length with each desperate roll of his hips as you met his thrusts.

Eddie pistoned his hips faster, harder, burying himself to the hilt again and again. The room filled with the sound of skin slapping skin, breathy pants and bitten-off curses.

“F-fuck.”

“C’mon, sweetheart. Gimme another one,” He punctuated each word with a sharp snap of his hips, chasing your second release like his life depended on it. “Be a good fucking friend and come on my cock.”

“H-harder, Eds. P-please.”

The desperate, broken plea spurred him on. He grabbed your hips bruisingly tight as he drove into you with ruthless precision, angling to hit that special spot deep inside that always made you scream. The obscene slap of his balls against your ass echoed through the room, while his curly pubes brushing against your swollen clit pulled desperate gasps from your lips.

Your fingers curled into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp before you pulled at his roots, while your other hand raked down his sweat-slicked back. Your leg locked around his waist, heel digging into the plush fat of his ass as you urged him impossibly closer.

“You’re so fucking tight f’me, baby,” he growled, voice wrecked.

“E-Eds, I’m g-gonna—”

Your release crashed over you, white-hot and blinding as you clenched down hard on his aching cock. Your walls puled around him as he continued grinning wolfishly at your open mouth and glassy eyes.

He leaned down to capture your lips in a messy, desperate kiss. Eddie slipped his tongue inside your mouth, bobbing his head as he sloppily sucked on your tongue.

“That’s it, baby,” he rasped. “Just one more, you can do it. I know you can.”

“I-I can’t, Eds,” you whimpered, desperately licking your lips to get rid of the dry feeling. “P-please—”

Eddie trailed open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, down the column of your throat, suckling at your pulse points hard enough to leave marks.

He grabbed at your hips, guiding you to meet each roll with a grind of his own. His breathing was strained as his hips worked feverishly now, chasing that high. Curving one hand around to rub tight circles on your clit, Eddie doubled his efforts, determined to tip you over the edge and watch you fall apart on his cock, crying his name.

Sweat slicked your straining bodies as he plunged into your sloppy heat over and over. The wet squelch of your messy cunt, the lewd slap of flesh, your needy cries — it’s almost too much, even for Eddie.

“That’s it, baby. Soak my fucking cock.” He rasped desperately, fingers flying over your throbbing clit.

Eddie could tell you were close, pussy clenching hard around him, thighs trembling around his pistoning hips.

With a final twist of his wrist, he sent you over the edge with a high pitched, broken moan that somewhat resembled his name. Your pussy fluttered and gushed around him, soaking his thighs with a hot and unexpected jet, clenching so hard on his cock you milked him for all he’s worth.

“Ed-Ed— Fuckfuckfuck.” Your head was tilted back, neck on display and mouth wide open. “Mmpff!”

“Jesus— F-fucking take it,” he gasped, nuzzling into your neck to sink his teeth into your skin.

With stuttering hips, Eddie’s rhythm faltered as the feeling of your squirting pussy drenching him, unravelling the last thread of his control. With one last moan, he buried himself to the hilts pulsing and shuddering as he filled you up, painting your greedy pussy in that addicting sticky, milky white.

Eddie pushed himself up just enough for his gaze to drift lazily to where the two of you were connected, his tired, wide eyes settling on the mess you’d made of the fresh linens, like he’d just witnessed a miracle.

The sight drew a slow grin to his face. He caught his lower lip between his teeth before a quiet, satisfied chuckle escaped him. Reaching up, he gently tapped two fingers against your cheek before letting his hand cradle your face, his thumb brushing softly over your skin as he tipped your chin back towards him.

“So,” he murmured, his fingertips pressing ever so slightly into your cheeks. “Who am I?”

You blinked your eyes open, still dazed, your tongue sweeping absently across your lower lip before you managed a sleepy, satisfied smile.

“M-my boyfriend.”

A smug smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Damn right I am.”

Neither of you spoke much after that. You simply stayed tangled together, basking in each other’s warmth while your breathing gradually slowed and your racing heart settled back into its familiar rhythm.

After a while, Eddie wrapped his arms around you and drew the two of you a warm, well-deserved bath.

He settled into the tub first before gently pulling you back against him, your back resting flush against his chest. One arm stayed securely around your waist while the other slowly worked your favourite soap into a rich lather, his touch gentle as he washed over your arms.

“I love you,” you murmured, resting your head against his shoulder.

“I love you more, sweetheart,” Eddie replied, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek. “But do not ever call me your friend again.”

A giggle escaped you as you nodded. “Deal.”

Some hours later, after Eddie had helped you into one of his oversized t-shirts and patiently combed the tangles from your hair, the two of you found yourselves curled up on the couch, you lazily scrolling through the comments on your TikTok while he started working on a joint.

He’d frowned when you’d told him you were posting it, though the look quickly faded once you explained that the trend was about getting your partner’s reaction — not trying the can of sparkling water that was still sitting forgotten on the kitchen counter.

Eddie, who normally didn’t give a rat’s ass about social media beyond hyping you up in the comments of your Instagram posts, had eventually let his curiosity get the better of him. Leaning over your shoulder, he stretched his neck to get a look at your phone.

Congratulations on your pregnancy girl!

oh, she’s exactly where she wants to be

I’m gonna show you fucking friend???? HELLO???

You couldn’t help the snort that escaped you, while Eddie merely blinked confused at the phone in your hand.

“…Pregnancy?”

“It’s a TikTok thing, babe.”

He frowned a little harder before reading the next comment.

“‘The way he looked at her after she said ‘my boy… friend’, girl I would have folded IMMEDIATELY’.”

A smug grin spread across Eddie’s face as he turned to look at you, a quiet scoff escaping him while hr raised his eyebrows in triumph.

“See? The internet agrees with me.”

You rolled your eyes, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

Eddie simply looked back down at his hands, carefully finishing the joint he’d promised to roll while the two of you soaked in the bath.

“Shut up.”

A soft chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Make me, sweetheart.”

Permanent tag list? Just ask!

@sespe08 @donchanoo @whitakerstorm @julxsxx @micheledawn1975 @flow33didontsmoke @lnnn1n @daddyhetfield @lananabanana42

[litorully]

Wait…

[gem-writes]

He can start me up like that 😛

[mischiefmaker615]

Say Less

Summary Promp: “I’ve had b-bigger” Loki hummed and leaned forward, smirking at how you winced and obviously lied to him but he decided to play and indulge. “well then, you most certainly wouldn’t mind if I take you in my true form..”

Rating: DARK WATERS AHEAD! gr@pe elements!

Note: Jotun!Loki and disguise heads up

You cover your mouth to stifle a giggle while pulling your betrothed behind you with haste. The god of thunder was just as eager as you, having no problem keeping up while trying to remain quiet himself- gradually hearing the sound of the ballroom get farther and farther away. 

‘’You know you’re becoming a bad influence with your lack of stopping me,’’ you whispered, slowing your pace down as his chambers drew near.

‘’It be a crime to deny you, my love.’’ Thor chuckled, keeping his voice quiet as well while the both of you walked at a steady pace side by side now. 

Betrothed.. All your life you’ve looked forward to the day you would wed your childhood lover. At first the two of you had been promised in secret, but as time went on with Thor looking to be the chosen son, Asgard began its demands for the prince’s to look for their wives- as aid stayed traditional when one ruled. This granted the perfect opportunity for you and Thor to no longer hide, and it wasn't long before the ceremony was set to date. 

It was almost here.. In fact, tonight had been the pre celebration before the two of you would be one tomorrow. Of course, none of this had stopped the two of you from continuing your sexual relationship and thus, with a few flirty gestures, the two of you had slipped away to get your alone time. 

As Thor’s chambers approached, you went to quicken your speed with excitement, only to find yourself being pulled back to a halt by the one who you thought were just as eager to reach their destination. With a confused look, you relaxed to find Thor chuckling and waving his free hand to assure you.

‘’Worry not beloved, I have merely forgotten that some wine had been spilt before the ceremony so the chambermaids might still be at work. It would do us no harm to take on a guest chamber,’’

You relaxed a little, happy to still go as planned- even if it were a different destination and allowed him to lead the way. ‘’Nervous, were we? You couldn't wait to indulge until the feast?”

Thor looked over his shoulder at you with a smirk and chuckled. ‘’It was merely to calm myself from indulging in you, right then and there.’’ his eyes gave a drop down to take in your features, admiring how wonderful you looked in his colors. ‘’You do not make it easy.’’

You bit your bottom lip, feeling your cheeks redden almost to the same shade as your gown. ‘’You think I am not suffering as well?” you teased and his lustful glow made him quicken his pace again to where you had to hold your dress’s folds up with your free hand in means to not trip and fall.

It was only two halls before the two of you finally turned to where guests were welcomed to stay when far travel made it necessary. Pausing at no particular one, Thor opened it and peaked inside to confirm its inhabitants before he gave you a sly smile that the coast was clear.

By now, your heart beat had been racing- not so much from the quickness you two had done to get here, but it was always exhilarating being taken by the god of thunder. You loved him with just as much giddiness as the day you two had confirmed, and your body was already ready for him by the time he pulled you in and shut the door behind you both. 

‘’Oh my love, i couldn't wait any longer..’’ you sighed with desperate need when Thor immediately pressed his body to yours, his large hands gripping your waist while your arms reached up to wrap around his neck. 

‘’You act as if I haven't taken you every waking day,’’ Thor grinned, his voice a lustful hush while his chest rose and fell heavily with need. 

Your back pressed up against the wooden door, feeling his knees brush up against yours slightly to indicate he was bending down before his lips captured yours in an almost longingful kiss. The two of you instantly sighed in each other's mouths, finally sating just purely the need to be near each other- but you both knew it wasn't going to stop there. 

Keeping the back of your head pressed against the door by merely the press of his mouth, you felt Thor’s hands quickly travel up behind you, fingers curling into the fabric before there was a harsh, ripping sound- followed by the loosening fabric against your body.

You gasped in his mouth, quite not expecting this type of session when the two of you were away from a more convenient spot that held spare clothes- but you figured a servant would be beckoned later to fetch you a covering. Thor was desperate, taking this opportunity to fill your mouth with his tongue once you had gasped and let him in. 

His hands worked blindly, pulling and ripping what was necessary with haste until you felt the fabric fall and pool at your feet, leaving you bare aside from your lower undergarment. 

Just when you began to gain the need for air, Thor pulled away before dropping his eyes to take in your form, hunger consuming his features while his hands gripped almost tightly at your waist.

‘’I hardly knew i had taunted you this much,’’ you offered a jest, feelings a little shy with how he was gazing at your body, seeming to be gazing upon you like one did for the first time- which of course was silly, because of two of you have seen each other many times before.

‘’You’re stunning Y/N.. absolutely stunning..’’ he whispered, his eyes flicking up at yours to catch your blushing self before he began sinking to his knees, keeping that eye contact while your hands clutched at his shoulders.

‘’I need you my love..’’ you whispered, not entirely minding the foreplay but you had been ready for him for quite some time now.

Thor smirked, hands sliding from your waist, to your hips. ‘’I know darling, I know.. All in due time..’’ he promised before his fingers curled at your hips to glip onto your panties, hardly pausing while he dragged them down and revealed just how much you were ready for him. 

You shivered, anticipation consuming you while you leaned back against the door, hands still at his shoulders while you felt his hand grip onto one of your ankles, bringing it up to rest your leg now over his shoulder and open yourself up to him. You felt his warm breath fan gently against your cunt, and the more he stared at you, the more nervous you got.

‘’Please..’’ you urged, biting your bottom lip while feeling his hands gently caress behind your thighs and ass.

‘’Needy little thing aren't you,’’ he chuckled and your cheeks reddened harder.

Thor wasn't one for much dirty talk, or perhaps.. Taking on a different style compared to what he has been saying so far. Was this teasing payback from all your flirtations from earlier? Was he perhaps savoring you on your last day of merely courting before the two of you were wed? 

Curiosity hardly had time to really make you ask before you suddenly felt his lips caress the inside of your thigh, just merely half an inch from your weeping cunt. His facial hair was soft, adding a slight tickling sensation at the same time while your hand moved to his hair to lightly urge him on.

Hearing him chuckle, he finally indulged by running his tongue up from your entrance, to your swollen bud. Your body nearly jolted, pleasure shooting through you so suddenly, your fingers curled into his golden locks. There was something different in his methods today, how he seemed to tease and build you up- as delicious as it was- compared to most times where it was all at once, a glorious, overwhelming sensation to completion. You hardly wished to complain now, your pleasure was still surely climbing the more he stroked at your clit, dipping down at times to lap at your entrance while using the tip of his nose to aid your build up. 

‘’Oh gods.. Right there- just.. Just like that..’’ you moaned, your head lolling from side to side, hardly caring at this point if a palace staff member or guest passed and heard. 

Thor hummed against your cunt, moaning at the taste and sending vibrations right through your core. The more you reacted from his administrations, the more his hands gripped you- almost possessively, like he couldn't get any closer. 

If you were to lift your feet off the guard, you’d be able to tell you would be held to his face with how hard he was pressing into you. His tongue plunged, nuzzling his face side to side before a hand slid up your body and to your chest, gripping one of your breasts and using his thumb to begin swiping at your hardened nipple.

Your moans fell with almost every breath, getting nearer and nearer to orgasm while one of your hands covered his own, squeezing around his fingers while they squeezed at one of your globes. You hardly realized your hips were grinding until your eyes fluttered open to look down at what was happening to you.

Thor was watching you, almost like a predator but through half lidded eyes like he were drunk on lust, himself. His mouth was relentless, his gaze alluring and everything just pulled you right where he wanted you to be before your orgasm suddenly crashed over you like a wave. 

Your head got thrown back, back arching and eyes rolling to the back of your head while you moaned pornagraphically and your hands held onto him for dear life. By the gods he didn't stop after that, oh no. He drank in your essence like a man starved, brows furrowed and eyes closed as if he were relishing in what you gave him. Even then to your last drop, he continued to reach his tongue as far as he could go, almost searching for your soul while you panted and twitched, whimpering to indicate your growing overstimulation before he slowly pulled away.

A bit of yourself was on his nose and chin, causing you to blush while he set your leg gently down before rising to his feet. Your eyes rose to meet his, a sated smile tugged at your lips while your arms reached up to hold onto your betrothed.

‘’My darling Thor.. i can hardly wait to start eternity with you..’’ you whispered, feeling the warmth of him envelop you with his arms wrapping around your naked flesh.

‘’Eternity is a long time Y/N, are you sure you’re making the right decisions?”

His question hardly made you come down from your high, busy letting him turn you and walk you backwards towards the bed with your cheek pressed against his armored chest.

‘’I want you, that is a decision i never would question.’’ you hummed with a gentle smile, feeling the bed meet the back of your legs before you felt Thor slowly release you and take a step back.

‘’You love me?” 

His question made you open your eyes and smile at him, hands at his chest gently with an assuring nod. ‘’Of course I do.. I love you, only you, nobody else.’’

‘’Then why did you cheat?” 

His expression was serious and the question had you pause with a mixed emotion running through your veins. Was he jesting? At a time like this? You furrowed your brows and looked over him as if waiting for the ‘just kidding’ moment.

‘’I.. I never cheated..’’ you said with a bit of offense itching at your words.

Thor smirked, his thumbs gently stroking the flesh at your hips, having to bend down slightly to do so but meeting you more than halfway to be nose to nose with you. ‘’If you love him, no matter what- as you say, then why not recognize your lover? After all, you’ve fucked enough times where you should be able to tell the difference.’’

His harsh words came with a bite and cruelty, making hurt twist in your chest where you leaned away from him to look into his eyes. Wha.. what was he saying? No.. those eyes.. Those baby blues you love so much had a different tint to them, almost lighter in a way where your brows furrowed and your body tensed.

‘’You.. Your-’’

Your words were cut off when he suddenly shoved you back, making you yelp and land on the mattress with a slight bounce that had your hair move into your face. With a huff, you pushed it away and glared at the being before you, sitting up and hardly caring if you were naked.

‘’Where is my husband?”” You demanded and ‘Thor’ merely chuckled and spread his arms wide, almost showing off while grinning down at you.

‘’Probably at another brothel, enjoying the last days of freedom before saddling himself up with a woman he doesn't even appreciate. Not.. truly.’’ ‘Thor’ shook his head before he inhaled sharply, a bright glow suddenly washing over his features where you had to turn away to protect your vision, now seeing who truly stood in front of you. 

Loki.

Disgust twisted your stomach while your body curled a little in itself, an arm draping over your chest while your legs quickly shut. You glared at the second prince with all the hatred and betrayal that coursed through your bones and you knew he could see it.

‘’He loves me Trickster, a feeling i’m sure you hardly recognize.’’

Loki smirked, looking down at you with all the pride and victory he had still- remaining clothed in his usual royal attire to make a point against vulnerability. ‘’Do not deny yourself of the truth dear Y/N, you know we had something before.’’

Your cheeks heated and you looked away from him. ‘’That was a long time ago.. Long before i had chosen Thor.’’

‘’That, you did. My only question is why?”

‘’He lov-’’

‘’If you use the word so fruitlessly than i clearly hold the wrong title of liar, darling.’’ Loki cut you off, clasping his hands behind his back while he gazed at you much softer. ‘’He’ll cast aside your wants and needs the minute the throne makes contact with his ass.’’

You glared at him and his loose words. ‘’And you wouldn't?”

Loki smirked and leaned down, making you tense a muscle that would help you scoot away but something told you to heed your actions, this close to a snake. ‘’You’d be on top of me darling.’’

Your eyes flashed at him and you got to your knees, eyeing the spot beside him that would help you get off the bed. ‘’You're disgusting and what you did was a pure act of trickery. If Thor is to hear of this-’’

‘’If?” Loki side stepped, his body blocking you from leaving the bed, making you lean back and use both arms now to cover your front, practically feeling the way he would sneak glances any time he could. 

‘’We are betrothed. If he were to find out i had slept with another, it may disgrace the court in trusting their future queen..’’ your eyes flicked to his. ‘’Even if it was unwilling.’’

Loki laughed, practically throwing his head back while you shamefully looked away from him. ‘’Unwilling? My dear, I have the very evidence still on my tongue with how UNwilling you were. Did you not take pleasure in what we did?’’

You huffed and made to get off the bed again. ‘’What you did was wrong and you know it. You’d be lucky enough to even-’’

Loki’s slender hand grasped your shoulder and shoved you back, sending you landing on the mattress once more on your back and you scrambled to sit up.’’do not threaten me dear one or i shall do far worse things than take you UNwillingly.’’ he mocked the word, as if reminding you of its lie while you tensed on the mattress. ‘’Have you taken thought that this perhaps has happened before? Or maybe when the two of you are wed, would you question who truly lies with you every night?”

‘’Stop it..’’ you seethed, fear bubbling from the possibilities of what might happen.. Or what already has..

‘’Sometimes a psyche is far better protected than a body.’’ Loki smirked, drawing your attention now by feeling a dip in the bed, just to see his palms now flat upon it, almost as if prowling his prey while you tensed.

‘’What are you saying?” you whispered, heart beating fast while the snake smiled at you.

‘’It could be our.. Little.. Secret..’’ he whispered, seduction coating his voice when his knee joined the mattress, then the other, until he had begun crawling slowly over to you where your body hesitantly tried scooting up and away.

‘’I can’t do that to him-’’ you shake your head, wishing not to live a life of betrayal and nearly yelp when the second prince catches your ankle.

‘’But darling, you already have.’’ he shook his head before with one hard yank, he pulled you to him- causing you to lie back before his body hovered above yours, palms on either side of your shoulders.

You glared at him, panic urging your words to bite, the last line of defense when you saw him rise to his knees and unclip his cape- almost avoiding magic to make this moment last longer for you. Your heart beat fast, eyes wide while taking him in while he cast aside piece by piece of his armor over his shoulder like there was nothing to worry about. Sound must have been a factor he had already considered because his careless movements indicated something must have happened to the room prior to deafening it. 

‘’How about a deal love.’’ Loki smirked, armor off and slowly removed his leather off his shoulders, noting how your eyes couldn't help but watch as he made himself bare- bringing back what memories the two of you had when all of this was.. Consensual.

‘’Rather than drive yourself paranoid of who exactly you find yourself fucking every night, i shall require for you to come to me now and again. We can.. Work on the schedule at a later date.’’ 

His lewd words and suggestion drove you to look up at him with disgust, fingers clawing at the sheets below you until you were sure your nails had pierced through. 

‘’And if I refuse?”

Loki smirked, looking down at you now while he purposefully dragged his hands now down his naked upper half, purposefully lingering at his toned abs he knew- at one point- had driven you crazy to feel for yourself before his hands began to play around at the fabric of his pants. ‘’You won’t.’’

‘’Let me guess, you’d ensure the court of what had transpired, thus destroying Thor and I’s courtship and practically having me banished under unfaithfulness?”

‘’An excellent suggestion darling, i shall take you up on this idea.’’ Loki chuckled, watching how your eyes flashed before the sound of a zipper threatened your eyes to glance down. ‘’By coming to me- or shall we say.. Cum for me, rest ensure I shall not tamper with your sad excuse for a marriage. I find it not a hard decision, and after all, you used to take me so well..’’ 

With his last words, he brought the monster out, it already standing at attention. 

Your eyes couldn't help but look at it, swallowing your nerves down with a shiver when he began to stroke it slowly, running his thumb against the top as if to tease himself while his eyes remained on you.

‘’Is.. Is this what this is? Jealousy?’’ you demanded in a whisper, almost gasping when he leaned back down suddenly onto his free hand, drinking in your expression while he continued to stroke himself. ‘’You wish to hurt Thor?”

‘’Oh no darling, hurting Thor is merely a bonus in all of this- if he were to find out.’’ he corrected, his words deadly serious before he smirked when you flinched, feeling him now stroke himself through your wet shameful folds- coating himself in it before you felt the tip align with your entrance, your hands subconsciously coming to his shoulders as if to brace yourself.

‘’I wish to hurt you.’’

Suddenly he shoved his hips forward, sliding himself into your wet channel that nearly had you cry out with your back arching off the mattress. His merley grunted, a moan following after with the feeling of your cunt strangling and trying to accommodate his intrusion. You were almost grateful he had prepared you, but this didn't make it any less sick while your nails dug into his skin.

The stretch gave a sting, but you feared the pleasure now as he stilled to ensure you would adjust around him, almost as if making you enjoy this was crueler than its opposite. 

‘’All that time.. Of us being together.. Just to turn around and choose him.. One would say you're far more cruel than i Y/N..’’ Loki whispered, hurt lacing his words and you almost caught it if the feeling of him didn't distract you as he slid out slowly, ensuring you felt every inch, every ridge and vein before pausing at the tip. ‘’And yet your cunt still welcomes me, as if it were the very thing that didn't forget..’’ 

With that, he harshly shoved himself back in, causing you to slide up an inch on the mattress while your nails held onto his bare shoulders. A whimper escaped your lips but you refused to give him more, grinding your teeth to stifle any satisfaction he was searching for. Tears pricked in your eyes while you continued to glare up at him, he giving you an indifferent look down his nose.

‘’I’ve.. I’ve had bigger..’’ you snapped at him, using your words as your only line of defense in ways to cope with what he was giving you.

Loki hummed and leaned forward, smirking at how you winced and obviously lied to him but he decided to play along and indulge with his cock shoving back deep into you.

“Well then, you most certainly wouldn’t mind if I took you in my true form, now would you?..” 

‘’Loki..’’ you whispered a warning, almost a beg while a chill ran down your spine and spread goosebumps along your skin. 

‘’yes dear one?” it was a mock more than an ask, a subtle warning that he was going to carry on anyway but perhaps a chance to hear you beg. 

You glared up at him, even if tears managed to well up enough to run down your cheeks and you hoped your nails were drawing blood as they sank into his shoulders. He pushed himself inside you all the way and stilled. You knew it wasn't a pause of any benefit, he wanted to watch you. 

His temperature changed quickly, going from warm flesh to now cold as a corpse. Your arms began to stretch higher as his body rose, growing slightly in proportion while his skin began to change to a deep blue. You weren't afraid of him- in the past, he often spoke about his true heritage.. Back when the two of you shared peace.. And more. However, that didn't change the panic in your eyes while his cock began to grow inside of you. 

He was already large and still desperately hard, but the sting returned as if he hadn't prepared you at all- indicating just how much his Jotun cock was bigger compared. 

You winced enough before you turned your face away, almost withering under him as you desperately tried to find purchase and ways to cope with how much you were stretching. His hand found your jaw, bringing your face back to look at him.

‘’No no no pet, you look at me..’’ Loki whispered, his eyes studying your face with almost a softness, like he was appreciating your reactions that were being caused by him. ‘’I want to watch that beautiful face as you cum..’’

‘’I won't cum for you monster.. Even then, the one I cried out for was for Thor..’’ you gritted out, wanting to bite at him if his hand wasn't gripping so hard on your jaw.

‘’And how many times have you cried out for me? Come now darling, have you truly forgotten all those moments we’ve shared?’’ Loki tsked, raising his head a moment and inhaled, closing his eyes to fully adjust to his true form that- by the gods- had stopped growing before he looked down upon you with his red orbs. 

‘’Perhaps a little reminding is needed.’’

‘’He’ll kill you..’’ you whispered, whimpering as Loki pushed your chin up, exposing your neck and spiking your heart rate again.

‘’If this doesn't kill him first. That is of course.. If you choose not to keep our little secret.’’ Loki mocked and bent down, running his tongue along your neck, making his way slowly up to your ear. ‘’Mmm do i have to threaten your groom to be next?”

Your body tensed at the mention of harming Thor. although the two have had their moments, you wouldn't challenge Loki at actually going through with it.. He was mad as it was for Thor being up first for the throne, and his blood would be on your hands if you did in fact have a chance to save him. 

‘’Would-’’ your words were cut short when he suddenly began to pull out, dragging his heavy cock through your channel before he paused at the tip, just as he had before, but your hands gripped onto his forearms now to brace yourself, drawing in a breath.

‘’Would.. You promise me his protection if I agreed?” you said quickly, wishing to get it out now before he’d cut you off again.

‘’Hmm..’’ Loki looked you over as if to consider it; as if he still wanted you right now and it made you shiver. His lips parted, teasing that he would speak but at the last second, he pushed himself in, watching how you cried out and arched off the bed, trying to take him but he stuffed you overwhelmingly full. 

‘’I will consider it darling. Perhaps it would depend on how much you beg me to make you cum.’’ the snake smiled, already seeing you pant while his hand left your jaw, dragging down your body before he began to fondle one of your breasts. 

One of your hands went to his wrist, weakly trying to pry him off with no results before your eyes caught sight of your lower stomach. There was a bulge that protruded out, marking exactly where his cock was before it shrunk when he began pulling out. His eyes noticed your staring with wide eyes and he chuckled, beginning to fuck you at a slower pace to let you watch your stomach go up and down, up and down.

‘’Like it darling? I only regret not taking you sooner like this.. Your warm channel is doing wonders for me..’’ Loki purred, a pant in his voice that indicated he wanted to cum just as badly as you wanted this over. 

You didn't answer him, biting your bottom lip to cope with the stretch and hated how fast it was becoming bearable. His hand began to travel from your breast, teasing your other nipple with the stroke of his thumb before it began to glide down, squeezing itself between your bodies to find your clit.

Your hand on his wrist followed his, tugging with all your might to interrupt it's decent but as soon as he found that swollen bud of nerves, your grip locked on. You neither pulled or pushed him away, your body beginning to separate itself from your mind in search of pleasure, making your head begin to roll side to side to snap out of it, focus, anything but trying to cum. 

‘’What's wrong darling? Are you perhaps going to do exactly what I want you to do?” Loki smirked, watching you struggle while his fingertips rubbed slow circles against your clit, hardly matching the rhythm of his hips that took on a steady pace that began to make the sound of slapping flesh fill the room.

‘’Loki..’’ you whimpered, panting as your other hand found the sheets below and clutched it, ripping fabric while your lips parted open.

Loki’s head tipped up and closed his eyes, almost as if he had just heard music and hummed. ‘’That's it darling.. Say it again..’’

He began to rub faster, almost catching up to his thrusting pace while you couldn't help but moan and flutter your eyes up. ‘’L-Loki..’’ you said louder, trying to convince yourself that you were asking him to stop than to keep going.

‘’Are you going to cum for me darling? Milk my cock like you had all those years ago when I laid claim to your virgin cunt? Strangle me for all I'm worth?” Loki grunted out, moaning in between claims as his own eyes began to flutter from his own growing pleasure. 

‘’P-please.. Of gods- fuck.. Please..’’ you moaned out, mind completely lost while your hips even rose to match his own, feeling how Loki’s other hand had to shift above your shoulder to keep you from sliding up too much. 

‘’That's it darling.. Thats it- oh fuck.. Norns you’re.. Cum now darling.. Cum for me-’’ Loki groaned out, his mouth falling open as he began to see stars and your back arched with your orgasm suddenly crashing over you.

“LOKIII!’’ you cried out, hardly caring if there was a sound spell or not, nothing could have stopped your reaction as you thrashed, squirmed and withered through your orgasm while he continued to pump into you at a vigorous pace before suddenly he pressed forward, his whole body laying on top of you as you felt the hot ropes of seed shooting up into your womb. 

He humped your body, his cum seeming endless while your body began to twitch and tingle, feeling yourself be stuffed full where some of his spent leaked out where the two of you were connected. Your body was shaking, limp as he stayed on top of you until his high was completely finished and you felt him begin to lessen slightly in size with a warmer feeling to his flesh. 

Fluttering your eyes open, you rolled your head over to find him back in his usual form, panting softly before his hands raised himself up to hover above you. The two of you were sweaty and looking fucked out. His hair hung down his shoulder and framed his face while yours spread out around your head in a predictable mess. You were exhausted and had to energy to move while he did, leaving your line of vision to stand before you saw the light of his Seidr illuminate the room for a second. 

No doubt he had changed, making himself seem like nothing had happened. There was a tingly feeling against you, the light much brighter in your vision where you had to close your eyes a moment to protect your sight before you finally lifted your head to look down at yourself. 

Loki had restored your red dress as if he hadn't even ripped it. By the slight pull of your hair, you knew it was back in place and yet you shakily sat up with the gushing feeling between your legs whenever you tensed. Loki was indeed dressed, running a hand through his hair and cracking his neck before looking over at you with a soft smile.

‘’I’d suggest you do not wear that color if you wish for a gentler experience with me. Green would be much preferred.’’

You glared weakly at him while your arms came to wrap around yourself, a shiver running down your spine while you lacked the ability to speak at the moment. 

‘’Consider that fool to be protected. No harm shall come to him by my hand so long as you behave.’’ Loki told you confidently, almost as if this was a court meeting before he made his way towards the door and paused, looking over you once more with almost a drunk look.

‘’Gods i really did miss you..’’

Tag List+ Interactions: @honeybnz @foxherder13 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fire-in-her-veinz @nervouseden @kathren1sky-blog @eleniblue @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @queenofstarsign85 @slytherinqueen4life @soulpiercing @westwindrhapsody @lulubelle814 @angelofthorr @lolathecorso @literatureatthebowofnails @autumn-rain-embers @societyfolklore @sharris8 @izka8520 @jaidenhawke @mischeveousscamp @ladymischief11 @possumpork @patroclus-is-the-bigger-person

Note: This was darker than expected but thank you again for taking interest in my teaser and awaiting it's publication :)

~I’d also would like to give a huge shout out to @societyfolklore who helped inspire the skeleton of this storyline! Please be sure to head on over and check out what work(s) she has 😁❤️

Other Jotun!Loki Fic: "Menu" & "Feral"

[moontannedmunson]

Can I Have Some Coffee First? | E.M.

⋆˚꩜｡pairing: 40s!eddie x 20s!fem!reader ⋆˚꩜｡summary: eddie learns that dating someone half his age comes with a few surprises; one of them is learning that your generation talks about sex a lot more openly than his ever did ⋆˚꩜｡tags/tw: explicit content 18+ minors do not interact | no y/n, afab!fem!reader, age gap, early relationship vibes, set in 2008 although not specified, communication is sexy (even when eddie is kind of bad at it), first time anal, anal fingering, masturbation (f!receiving), praise kink if you squint, some very mild degradation, steve deserves financial compensation for putting up with eddie's ass (punt not intended) ⋆˚꩜｡word count: 5.3k+ ⋆˚꩜｡a/n: this is a detailed version of this post also I think this sucks so be warned lol

The Eddie you knew and were still getting familiar with was vastly different from the one that had lived through the eighties and nineties.

Well, vastly different might have been a stretch.

All in all, he hadn’t changed that much, if we were being honest. He still liked his hair past his shoulders, still listened to the same six bands and rarely put anything else on, and he still had that pretty boy-ish smile that told everyone in the room he was up to absolutely no good.

But he had changed in the little things. He took better care of his hair now, even spending a little more money than anyone should on a simple shampoo and conditioner, and he rarely talked about sex anymore.

It wasn’t that he’d magically become a prude over the years. He’d simply learned that some things were better — and hotter — left between two people, and no longer felt the need to tell his best friend Steve about whatever fucking position or wild thing had happened in the alley behind the bar.

Except now.

He’d switched to whiskey — double shot, no ice — about five minutes ago after realising the two beers before it weren’t doing much.

Steve, who had begrudgingly left his twenty-five weeks pregnant wife at home to meet Eddie for what had apparently been an emergency drink on a random Wednesday, looked completely and utterly lost as he quietly sipped his Sex on the Beach.

“So,” the younger man started slowly, tilting his glass while absentmindedly playing with the little decorative umbrella. “You gonna tell me what’s been plaguing you?”

“I can’t, Steve.” Eddie groaned, abandoning his nearly empty glass to drag both hands down his face.

“You literally called me because, and I quote,” Steve took a sip before making quotation marks with his fingers. “‘Steve, dude, I need to tell you something or I’m gonna explode.’ So, spill.”

“I know, I know.” Eddie groaned again, tipping back the last of his whiskey and pretending it still burned on the way down. “But I can’t.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because…” Another sigh escaped him as he raised his empty glass towards the bartender for a refill. “It’s about sex, okay? Happy?”

Steve blinked at him and leaned back in his chair and silently raised his own glass for another drink.

“You’re acting like you didn’t fuck half the weird chicks behind the Hideout back in the day,” he said, absentmindedly fiddling with his straw. “I honestly don’t get why you’re acting like a fucking virgin. You’re pushing fifty, Edward.”

“I’m forty-two, Stephen,” Eddie deadpanned. “You— Forget it. You don’t understand.”

“Of course I don’t understand. You haven’t said shit fort the last hour.”

“It’s just…” Another defeated sigh escaped Eddie as his tattooed hand disappeared into the dark brown hair now threaded with silver that had, much to his horror, finally started to show.

He was being ridiculous, he knew that. Steve was right — he was acting like a fucking virgin despite being the furthest thing from it.

But this? He wasn’t sure about this.

Hell, he wasn’t entirely convinced he hadn’t imagined the whole fucking thing.

Eddie opened his mouth, only to snap it shut again when two fresh drinks were set down on the table between them.

When the bartender had disappeared just as quickly as she’d arrived, a string of choked words tumbled out of Eddie’s mouth, vowels mashed together with embarrassment as he immediately lifted his glass to his lips, desperate to give himself something — anything — to do besides look at Steve.

“What?” Steve frowned. “Dude, what the fuck. Talk slower, like a normal person.”

“I said…” Eddie repeated, keeping his eyes fixed somewhere on the wall behind Steve. “She asked if I’d ever done anal.”

And there it was — the utter, skin-prickling silence.

Steve simply stared at him.

“…That’s it?” he finally asked after a full minute. “This is what’s had you acting all weird?”

“Dude—”

“Jesus fucking Christ, man.” Steve let out a breathless chuckle, shaking his head. “I’m finishing this drink and going home.”

“What? No.”

“Eddie, you’re being ridiculous.” He licked his lips before taking another sip. “What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is that she’s half my age and she’s asking me something I’d never even stopped to think about.”

“So?”

“What do you mean, so?”

Steve sighed. The day was catching up with him, and Eddie’s bullshit wasn’t doing much to help. So he pulled his glass a little closer, took another sip through the straw, and counted to ten.

“I don’t see what the problem is.”

“You don’t—” Eddie sighed, exasperated, averting his gaze like he couldn’t quite believe what had just come out of his mouth. “Steve, we grew up in the eighties.”

“I know. I survived it.”

“Other than the occasional dirty joke at a party, we didn’t exactly sit around discussing sex.”

Steve frowned as he thought about it. “Now that you mention it…”

“Girls back then never asked if you’d tried this or that. They asked if you were a virgin, and if you both were, you just figured shit out… and then never spoke about it again.”

Steve leaned back in his chair, resting an elbow on the armrest as he sipped at his ridiculously bright cocktail, nodding along to Eddie’s rambling.

“Meanwhile, this girl looked me dead in the eye at nine in the morning and went, Have you ever tried anal? Like she was asking me if I’d ever seen Jurassic Park.”

A snort escaped Steve at the comparison.

“What did you reply?”

“…‘Can I have some coffee first?’”

Steve shook his head in disbelief, set his drink back down, and rested both hands behind his head like he was sprawled out on the couch watching a football game.

“Jesus, Eddie. You’re unbelievable.” He groaned.

“I’m going to kill myself,” Eddie muttered.

“Without trying anal first?”

“Steve.”

“The joke wrote itself, man.”

The younger man shrugged again, absentmindedly spinning his straw between his fingers.

“Listen, just go home and talk to her,” he said simply. “Tell her… I don’t know, that you weren’t expecting the question or something.”

“I can’t just… talk to her about it.”

“Eddie, my man, you’re acting like a fucking teenager.” Steve shook his head. “How long have you been seeing her?”

“Four months, give or take.”

“Four months,” he repeated slowly. “If this is supposed to go anywhere, you need to learn how to communicate. Apparently, that’s something you still haven’t figured out after forty-two years.”

“I hate you,” Eddie muttered over the rim of his glass.

“No.” Steve pointed at him with the end of his straw. “You hate that I’m right. There’s a difference.”

Much to his dismay, Steve had, in fact, been right.

Eddie had spent the entire fifteen-minute drive back to your place mentally turning over every word in the English dictionary, trying to figure out what he was supposed — what he wanted — to say once he got there.

By the time the red lacquered front door came into view, he still hadn’t figured it out.

The doorbell rang before he even really registered pressing it, and it only took a few seconds before he heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching.

And then there you were, standing right in front of him with messy hair and an oversized shirt you’d customised a few years earlier, back when you were still in high school.

“Hey—”

“I can’t stop thinking about your question, and it’s driving me absolutely insane.”

Your head tilted at the rapid stream of words that tumbled out of his mouth.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. Somehow, you’d found yourselves locked in a staring contest that neither of you remembered starting.

“Uh… hi to you too, Eds,” you chuckled after a moment, pulling the door open a little wider.

Eddie slipped past you without another word, too busy worrying at his bottom lip to even attempt an explanation.

His dark brown eyes darted around your little living room with a newfound sense of curiosity that was really nothing more than embarrassment hiding behind a mask.

Eddie’s gaze bounced from the far corner overflowing with potted plants to the extensive book collection you’d built over the years.

He was looking at anything that wasn’t you.

Which definitely hadn’t gone unnoticed.

The tip of your tongue pressed against the inside of your cheek as you quietly closed the front door behind you, your eyes fixed on the strange way he stood in the middle of your shoebox-sized apartment.

You leaned back against the door, absentmindedly drumming your fingers against the wood as you studied him.

“Eds—”

“I wasn’t expecting to hear something like that as nine in the morning,” he blurted. “Especially not how casually it slipped out of your mouth.”

“Look…” you sighed, scratching thoughtfully at your chin. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. That wasn’t my intention.”

“What?” Eddie’s attention finally snapped back to you. “I’m not uncomfortable.”

“Are you sure?” you asked quietly, raising an eyebrow. “Because you’re acting like a teenager who just found out he’s gonna be a dad at fifteen.”

Suddenly, the little painted squares you’d made at a paint-and-sip workshop with a friend became ten times more interesting than looking you in the eye.

A quiet sigh escaped you as you pushed yourself off the door and walked over to him.

Eddie’s cheeks had turned a soft shade of pink as he stubbornly refused to meet your gaze, even when your warm hand gently cupped his jaw and tried to guide his face back towards yours.

“We can just pretend none of it happened, if you want.”

He still wouldn’t look at you, nervously worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

Then, ever so slowly, dark brown eyes finally found yours beneath the warm amber light.

“I…” He swallowed. “I don’t want to… pretend.”

The warmth beneath your hand deepened as his blush spread from his cheeks down his neck, your palm following its path until it rested lightly against his chest.

Your expression softened at the shy tone of his confession.

Letting go of his chest, your fingers curled around his hand instead, gently tugging him towards the couch.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

Eddie slumped back against the cushions, full lashes fluttering with the incessant blinking of his eyes.

His hands found your hips, gently pulling you onto his lap.

“It’s just… You asked it so easily.” He let out a humourless laugh as his thumbs absentmindedly traced slow circles over the tops of your thighs. “In my time—”

“God, don’t say that.” You cringed. “That makes you sound old.”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie deadpanned, a rogue chuckle escaping him.

“You know what I mean.” You rolled your eyes playfully before settling back against his chest, following his gaze to the silent television across the room. “Sorry. Please continue.”

“It just caught me off guard how easy it is for you to talk about sex,” he admitted quietly. “When I was your age, girls would’ve rather set themselves on fire than ask their boyfriends something like that.”

“…That bad?”

“In Hawkins?” He snorted, looking down at you with one raised eyebrow as though the answer should’ve been obvious. “You have no idea.”

The silence that followed lingered for a few moments as the two of you watched the two brothers hop in their jealousy-inducing car.

Then you licked your lips and shifted, turning to properly straddle his lap.

“I like talking about sex.” You admitted and shrugged at his wide-eyed expression. “Not just because it’s dirty or exciting. I’d just rather ask what you like than guess.”

Eddie’s eyes drifted over your shoulder and back to the television. One of the two brothers had somehow turned into a vampire while the other acted weirder than usual.

“You know…” he started hesitantly, still watching the show play out in silence. “I don’t think anyone’s ever asked me what I wanted before.”

You frowned at the quiet confession. “Really?”

“We just…” He shrugged, like it wasn’t something worth dwelling on. “Did things as we went.”

You reached up, brushing your thumb across his cheek and patiently waited for his eyes to find their way back to yours.

“Well,” you smiled softly, “I’m asking now.”

Eddie’s lips curled into a small, sheepish smile.

“Can I think about it?”

“Of course you can, Eds.” You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his temple. “I was… kinda hoping you would.”

Before he could make fun of your little confession, you pushed yourself off his lap and darted towards the kitchen.

“I bought your favourite,” you called, pushing the beaded curtain aside. “You want ice with it?”

“How did you–”

“I can smell it on your breath, Eds.” Your chuckle echoed through the tiny kitchen and into the living room.

“…Just one ice cube, please.”

Eddie had stayed over the previous night after one drink had turned into two more, while the two of you laughed about sweet nothings as the television continued playing that weird show about demon hunting brothers in the background.

As it turned out, Eddie didn’t have to think about it.

Not really, anyway.

While he’d been busy panicking at the bar with Steve and then again during the drive back to your place, his subconscious had already made the decision for him — he just hadn’t noticed it.

Not until his eyes slowly fluttered open to the stark white ceiling of your bedroom, his brain immediately replaying the… particularly raunchy dream he’d had during the night.

And then there was the, uh… wooden log between his legs.

His eyes instantly drifted to his left, finding you still sound asleep with your back turned to him. Your frame rose and fell with each steady breath, and Eddie felt like a fucking teenager all over again at the mere sight of you — and at the persistent morning problem he’d woken up with.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mumbled groggily, dragging both hands down his face. “Get it together, man.”

Forcing himself out of the warmth of your bed, Eddie did the only thing he could think of: ignore whatever the hell was happening beneath his boxers and make himself useful by quietly sneaking out to put breakfast together.

Not even ten minutes after he’d finally gotten the situation between his legs under control and managed to coax your second-hand stove into working, careful footsteps padded down the hallway and into the kitchen.

Eddie tried really, really hard not to tense when your arms slipped around his waist and your face nestled against the broad expanse of his tattooed back.

He failed the moment your warmth seeped through his skin and your sleepy voice reached his ears.

“Morning,” you mumbled.

“Morning,” he replied a little too quickly.

A content sigh escaped you as you leaned further into him, tightening your hold around his frame.

“You’re acting weird again.”

“I’m not—”

Eddie cut himself off with a tired sigh, turning the stove down before carefully prying himself loose just enough to face you.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured, his hands drifting up and down your arms.

“It’s okay—”

“I dreamt about you,” he admitted quietly, his gaze immediately darting towards the small magnetic whiteboard hanging on your fridge.

“Oh?”

“Turns out I don’t need to think about it.”

“Oh.”

You straightened, suddenly feeling far more awake than you did half a second ago, your eyes searching his face as you silently waited for him to continue.

But he didn’t. Instead, he stood there pretending to be deeply invested in your weekly plans scribbled across the whiteboard.

With a small smile, you reached around him and turned the stove off completely.

“I’m trying really hard not to get…” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “…hard.”

“Eddie,” you laughed softly.

“I’m serious.” He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re standing here in nothing but my shirt and a pair of lacy underwear, and I had the hottest dream of my life, and I—”

He immediately cut himself off, hesitantly lifting his eyes back to yours.

“Tell me about it,” you whispered, resting your eyes hands against his chest.

“About what?”

“The dream, silly.”

It was then and there that Eddie decided you’d come into his life for the sole purpose of turning it completely upside down.

Because there was no way in hell he was going to tell—

“We were watching that stupid show of yours,” he started before his brain had the chance to stop his mouth.

“Supernatural isn’t—”

“And then you stood up and suddenly you were completely fucking naked,” he continued, his hands slowly trailing down your spine until they settled against the soft curve of your ass. “And you started teasing me.”

Your throat suddenly went dry when you felt Eddie’s warm, calloused hands gently kneading the fat of your ass to emphasise his words as he continued recounting the dream.

Not that you were paying all that much attention anymore.

His voice had somehow faded into the background the moment his eyes had flickered down to your lips.

“—and then you were on all fours in the grass,” he continued, pulling you back to reality.

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, I don’t know either.” Eddie let out a soft chuckle. “But you looked absolutely beautiful, all spread out f’me beneath the warm sunlight.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you whispered, your stomach dropping in that all-too-familiar way whenever he talked to you like that.

“That’s what I said when I woke up,” he replied, a smug grin slowly creeping across his face.

The way Eddie had been acting over the last twenty-four hours was giving you whiplash.

One minute he was behaving like a schoolboy hopelessly fumbling through his first serious crush. The next, he’d slipped right back into his usual self, teasing you like it was his full-time job.

Your eyes widened in surprise when Eddie leaned in, meeting your lips in a soft, delicate press that felt like a total one-eighty from the conversation you just had. For a moment you froze, heart pounding wildly in your chest, but as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss, something in you unfurled.

It’s chaste, almost innocent — just the brush of lips, a shared breath. Yet it sent a thrill down your spine. When he finally pulled away, you blinked dazedly up at him, still caught in the spell he’d just put you under.

You couldn’t do much but hold out your hand in a silent offer.

Eddie ushered you out of the kitchen, glass beads clinking together as the two of you hurried down the hall and made your way back to your bedroom.

The bed hit the backs of your knees as you tumbled onto it, pulling him down with you. Eddie’s tattooed hands roam feverishly, mapping the curves of your body beneath his shirt and drinking the low whimpers escaping your mouth as his fingertips brushed against the swell of your breasts.

You arched into him when his hands trailed back down to the hem of the shirt. He yanked it over your head and tossed it aside, immediately diving for the newly exposed skin. His lips trailed a path down your throat, teeth grazing your collarbone, while his tongue left a slick trail down to the tattoo you’d gotten four months ago at his studio.

“F-fuck, Eddie,” you breathed out, bucking your hips against his in a desperate attempt to ease the ache settling between your legs.

Eddie continued trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses towards your breasts, softly closing his lips around one of your nipples before he gave you a hard suck. His free hand roamed in search of the other one, rolling your hardened nipple between his fingertips while he continued sucking sloppily at the other, thick drops of saliva rolling down one side of your chest.

He pulled back slightly, searching your face after you’d given his scalp a particularly hard tug.

His fingers kept rolling and tugging at your hardened nipple while his eyes stayed fixed on your drunken face — eyebrows furrowed, mouth hanging open while you panted so prettily in his ears when he had barely even started.

“Have you… done this before?”

“N-no,” you confessed quietly.

“You sure you wanna do this, sweetheart?”

There was a certain vulnerability in his voice, but lying on top of you now, feeling the heat of your skin, he found that he desperately wanted you to say yes.

He continued playing with your breast as he waited patiently for your answer.

Like the heavy panting that filled the otherwise silent room wasn’t enough answer.

“Y-yeah.” You licked your lips. “I want you to fuck me in the ass, Eddie.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he breathed out. “That fucking mouth of yours is gonna be the death of me someday.”

A shiver of excitement raced down his spine. Slowly, deliberately, he trailed his free hand lower, fingers skimming over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You twitched beneath his touch, bringing a smug curl to the corners of his mouth.

Leaning down again, he captured your mouth in a searing kiss, swallowing your gasps. His other hand mapped the planes of your chest, tweaking your nipple until you writhed beneath him. Breaking away, his dark brown eyes found yours under the soft sunlight spilling through the window.

Not exactly the same way his dream had been, but similar enough.

“We’ll take it slow, okay?” He assured, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

To punctuate his promise, he slowly rolled his hips against yours, groaning at the delicious friction.

He gently guided you onto your stomach, trailing reverent kisses down the length of your spine. When he reached your ass, he hooked his tattooed fingers into the waistband of your lacy underwear, tugging them torturously slow down your legs. Cool air kissed heated skin as he bared you inch by tantalising inch.

Eddie took a moment to admire the sight of you spread out before him, warm and quivering and absolutely desperate under his gaze.

“Gonna be so gentle with you, I promise,” he panted over your bare back, leaving soft kisses in between words.

He gave both of your ass cheeks a hard slap, watching the soft fat giggle afterwards. His heartbeat quickened and a low groan fell from his lips as his eyes maintained glued to your ass, slowly pulling your cheeks apart until you were completely exposed for him.

He never actually tried anal, or even gave it a second thought as had already been established, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew the familiar bottle of lube tucked away in your dresser probably wasn’t the right kind, but it would have to do.

The drawer creaked softly as he pulled it open and reached for the bottle. It felt cool and slick against his fingertips as he gave it a tentative squeeze.

Eddie flicked his wrist, circling your rim teasingly, relishing your trembling exhale when you felt the cold, slick texture of the lube. Then, with careful pressure, he began to ease his pinky finger inside, determined to keep his promise of taking it slow.

“I– mmpff!”

He eased his finger deeper, marvelling at the tight heat enveloping him. He traced delicate circles, massaging gently until the initial tension faded and a breathy moan escaped your lips.

“That’s it, baby,” he coaxed softly. Then, lowering his voice like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud, he added: “Can’t believe you’re letting me do this, sweetheart.”

He gently worked a second finger in alongside the first, pumping slowly. The wet sounds of his fingers sliding in and out of your tight ass filled the room, obscene and head spinning.

“I-It hurts, Eds.” You whimpered, but immediately shook your head when he asked if you wanted to stop.

Watching you respond to his touch, pretty and swollen pussy fully on display and leaking as it continued being ignored brought a heady rush of pride and possession to him — how could he not, when he was the first person you’d allowed to have you this way?

“A-ah!” You breathed out at the empty feeling as he slowly removed his fingers out of you. “E-Ed— F-fuck.”

“C’mon, sweetheart.” He gently tapped your hips twice with his slick digits. “Can you push yourself up your hands and knees for me?”

The request came softly, and you instantly complied by pushing your ass up higher for him. Slicking his fingers once more, he reverently traced your rim in lazy circles before slowly dipping his fingers back inside, testing a third one before pressing forwards just a fraction.

Your cheek rested flush against the mattress, eyelashes fluttering with every slippery, careful thrust he gave your tight hole.

Eddie watched your face intently, sinking in steadily, increments of progress marked by your hitched breaths and broken moans. The tight clutch you had around his digits was maddening, and Eddie had to resist the urge to immediately plunge deeper, harder. Instead, almost against his will, he rocked shallowly, letting you adjust to the stretch of the three, thick fingers he had in your ass as he patiently waited for your cue.

“P-please E-Eds,” you whimpered, desperately pushing your ass against his hand. “M-more.”

Eddie’s heartbeat quickened at your breathless plea. Slowly, he eased a fourth finger inside you, taking care to maintain a steady, slow rhythm. His free hand found the small of your back, gently rubbing circles against your skin when he felt you tense up at the stretch.

“Shhh, sweetheart,” he murmured distractedly, eyes completely fixed on the way you greedily sucked his fingers in. “It’s okay, I got you.”

You keened softly, hips canting back greedily for more when the sharp stretched dulled.

The lewd squelch of lube echoed obscenely, mingling with your panting breaths and hitching moans. Eddie felt completely drunk at the sight, fingers pumping faster and deeper, curling and twisting as he chased the perfect angle to send sparks dancing along your nerves. His other hand snaked around to circle your clit, stroking in time with his thrusts.

“That’s it, baby. Feel good, hm?”

“S-so, so good, Eds,” you moaned out, rolling your eyes to the back of your head.

The obscene wetness between your thighs dripped down to your bedsheets with each wet slide of his fingers making you writhe shamelessly, lost in the pleasure only he could offer you.

Eddie’s cock, desperate and ignored, basically wept as it begged for attention. A wet patch of pre-cum had long since stained his boxers, and it only continued to grow with each passing minute.

A chill ran down his spine at the thought of burying his aching cock deep in your ass, feel you clench and flutter apart around him while you screamed his name.

Eddie’s eyes were pulled away from your greedy hole, landing on your curling toes. A smug grin spread across his lips at the sight, and he made it his mission to make you come like this — completely on display and at his mercy.

“You close, sweetheart?”

“Mhmm!”

At your breathless response, Eddie doubled his efforts, fingers plunging relentlessly as his other palm ground against your swollen clit and fingertips dipped shallowly into your cunt. The dual stimulation proved too much and you came undone with a broken cry.

“F-fuck! Ed-Eddie!”

Eddie buried his face in your neck, muffling sweet nothings in your ear as hot pulses painted your inner thighs. After a moment, he peppered your temple with feather-light kisses, basking in your warmth.

“You’re so beautiful when you come for me,” he whispered.

“I…” You trailed off quietly, swiping your tongue across your dry bottom lip. “P-please, Eds.”

“Hm?” He pressed a lingering kiss against your shoulder and carefully coaxed his fingers out of you, stroking the small of your back when a string of broken whimpers fell out of your mouth. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re okay. I got you.”

Still catching your breath, you blinked dazedly up at him. The drunk look in your glimmering eyes raced a thrill down his spine at the thought of claiming you so thoroughly.

“P-please, Eds, need m-more,” you breathed out.

“Yeah? Sweet girl wants me to fuck her ass?” He cooed lowly, tracing soft circles at your hips as he pulled you closer to his still clothed cock.

“Y-yeah,” you nodded dumbly, mouth hanging open and drool dripping down on the bed beneath you. “W-want you to fuck my a-ass.”

With a low groan, Eddie reached for the bottle of lube once again, squeezing a generous amount of the sticky texture on your stretched hole before abandoning it somewhere beside you. He pushed himself off the bed and his boxers were pushed down his legs in a hurry, quickly forgotten as he threw it on the floor.

He pulled you closer by gripping your hips. Eddie slid his aching cock against your ass, spreading some of the lube against his length before he teased your slick opening with his mushroom tip. Heavy, calloused fingers dug into your hips, surging forward and sheathing himself slowly in small strokes.

“F-fuck! I-It burns,” you cried out, reaching a hand to stop him from moving.

Your hand twitched against his hip bone as you looked back at him with glossy eyes and furrowed eyebrows.

“J-Jesus,” he groaned out, accidentally rolling his hips despite your hand still trying to stop him. His eyes fluttered shut and his mouth hang low at the overwhelming feeling of your tight hole engulfing him. “Sorry, baby. I can’t help it, y-you’re so f-fucking tight.”

“Mmpff!”

Gulping down a dry lump, Eddie opened up his eyes and immediately looked down at where the two of you connected. His pink cock bordered on red, aching for more stimulation as only half of it had been pushed in. Slowly, after your hand had fallen away again, he rolled his hips backwards. His dark brown eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head at the sight of your ass gripping him, desperately trying to hold onto his cock, before he pushed back further into your greedy hole.

Eddie set a slow pace, hips moving back and forth in gradual thrusts until his hips are snapping urgently against the globes of your ass. The filthy slaps of his hairy balls against your dripping, neglected pussy and your broken moans spurred him on, driving him closer to the edge than he wanted.

“Y-you— ah, fuck!” You cried out, completely cock-drunk. “Mhmm, s-so g-good, Eds!”

“Yeah?” Eddie asked darkly, chest heaving at his relentless pace. “You like having my big cock in your ass, baby?”

“Y-yes! I l-love it!”

Captivated by your hopeless cries, Eddie redoubled his efforts, pounding into you with abandon. The lewd squelch of lube and your creaking bedframe filled the room, underscoring your desperate, broken moans.

The grip he had on your hips was bruising as he pistoned forwards, chasing his release. Eddie dragged a hand up your sweat-slicked spine, revelling in the goosebumps rising in its wake.

He leaned down, nuzzling in your neck and grazing his teeth against your tender skin.

“That’s it, baby,” he growled, punctuating each word with a sharp snap of his hips. “Come for me again.”

Eddie grabbed a fistful of your hair, tugging your head back until you had no choice but to push off the mattress. His chest was scalding hot against your back as he laved attention along your throat while his other hand snaked back down to your clit, desperate for your second orgasm to hit you so he could feel your ass clamp down on his cock.

“I-I’m coming, Eddie,” you breathed out hopelessly, tilting your head back against his shoulder and looking up at him with teary eyes and trembling lips. “P-please, d-don’t stop!”

With a hoarse cry, your orgasm crashed over you, muscles seizing as waves of ecstasy radiated outwards. The rhythmic clench of your tight hole nearly pushed Eddie over the edge as he pushed your face back into the mattress, holding you by the back of your head as he desperately chased his own release.

“J-Jesus, f-f-fuck!” he moaned out, orgasm ripping through him like wildfire.

He fell forwards, sinking his teeth into the crook of your neck as he gave you one last, particularly hard thrust. With a strangled groan, he hilted himself deep, pulsing hot spurts of his sticky cum in your ass.

Eddie collapsed on top of you, gasping for air amidst the trembling aftershocks. His teeth finally let go of the sensitive skin of your neck, replacing them with soft, lingering kisses instead.

“Sweetheart?” He called after a few minutes. “You still with me?”

As the haze started to clear, he strained to make out your unintelligible mumble. He held his breath, searching your face for clues.

“What?”

“I said,” you repeated tiredly, eyes fluttering shut as a small, satisfied smile tugged at your lips. “I think you just killed me.”

A quiet chuckle escaped Eddie at your tired declaration.

Pulling you closer against his chest, still buried deep inside your ass, Eddie rolled the two of you to your sides and pressed a tender kiss to your temple.

Closing his eyes, Eddie focused on slowing his breathing, quickly basking in the warmth of your skin against his while his mind continued reeling from the remnants of his dreams and everything that had unfolded since.

A soft groan escaped you as you turned your head back to look at him over your shoulder.

“Did you…” You hesitated for a moment. “Did you enjoy it?”

“Did I enjoy—” An almost disbelieving laugh escaped him as he dragged a hand through his messy hair. “Sweetheart, you just blew my fucking mind.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the wonder lingering in his voice.

“Really?”

Eddie looked at you like you’d asked the stupidest question imaginable.

“I don’t think I can just go back to fucking your pussy.”

The confession made your breath hitch before a comfortable silence settled between you. His dark brown eyes glimmered under the warm morning sunlight as they trailed across your face and down your naked, still intertwined bodies.

Then your stomach let out a loud, unmistakable growl, completely shattering the moment.

Eddie stared at you for a moment before bursting into laughter. “Don’t think it’s worth reheating the eggs.”

“Eh, worth it,” you murmured.

He smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Definitely worth it.”

permanent tag list? just ask!

@sespe08 @donchanoo @whitakerstorm @julxsxx @micheledawn1975 @flow33didontsmoke

[maladaptive-daydreamer-23]

Requiem For Vixen

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Mal's Note: Y'all are gonna be mad at me for this one... but I'll remind you that some of you asked for more parts, and this was the only way I felt the story could move forward and still be interesting. However, I regret nothing.

Love,

Mal❤️

I LOVE MY BETA READERS MORE THAN LIFE ITSELF! @theghostofcosmichorrorpast @cringeiknow @snailsinamarchingband

Warnings: MDNI 18+ beyond this point! semipublic sex, p in v sex, oral sex fem!receiving, mentions of death, mentions of Haley Hotchner and her death, vaginal fingering, angst, fluff, oh I almost forgot reader bites Hotch, cliffhanger ending (kinda)

Additional Note: If you're tagged its because you asked me to tag you in the previous installation, if you wish to be untagged or for me not to tag you in the next chapter please message me and I will take care of it. <3

Pairing: Hotch x BAU!Reader (NO Y/N)

WC: 14.8k

AO3

Mal's Masterlist

Your eyes refused to open, your head felt so heavy and your brain seemed to be made of cotton. Not only were you unsure where you were, you didn’t know what day it was, or what year. 

You did know, however, that there was a second body in this bed with you. Strong arms held you close, and warm breath stirred your hair. 

You forced your eyelids to cooperate, and peeked down at the dark head of hair nestled into your neck. From this angle it looked like…

Hotch. 

Everything came rushing back to you at once and what you remembered… was the best morning of your life.  

He had absolutely rocked your world. You had known it would be good… but that was… Wow.

He was sleeping peacefully so you didn’t want to wake him, but you wanted to know what time it was. There was no sunlight coming through the windows, only the dim glow coming from the street lamps on the sidewalk. It was night. You’d slept all day. 

Wait. 

When had you fallen asleep?

The last thing you remembered was… 

Oh God.

You felt heat rush to your cheeks and suddenly you were very glad that you had woken up first. 

You had fallen asleep with his dick still inside you. 

Which was mortifying. However, to be completely fair, the man had completely exhausted you and you’d already been over tired to begin with. 

You wondered again what time it was. 

Your phone should have been laying on the nightstand closest to you, so you carefully untangled your arm from Aaron’s and reached blindly for it. Patting around the table top until you found it. 

Powering it on, you had to wait nearly five minutes for it to stop buzzing with six weeks worth of notifications. 

It was nearly nine o’clock. 

You didn’t know what time you’d fallen asleep, but you knew you’d been asleep for over ten hours. 

You were starting to go through your messages and respond to emails and such, when the phone began to ring. 

You panic-answered it, not wanting the noise to wake Aaron. You didn’t even check to see who it was.

That was a mistake. 

“Hello?” You rasped into the phone. 

“Omg, did we wake you?” You’d recognize Penelope’s voice anywhere. 

“No, I was awake. Who’s we?” You murmured. 

“Morn’n sleeping beauty.“ Emily drawled. 

“How are you feeling?” JJ chimed in with concern, which you appreciated. 

“Who me? I’m fantastic.” You replied quietly, smirking to yourself as you glanced down at the sleeping man whose head was still buried in the crook of your neck.

“Oh, I bet you are.” Emily said, teasingly and your brows drew together. 

Your confusion only grew when the others giggled quietly in the background. 

“Am I missing something here?” You queried. 

Aaron groaned softly in his sleep and you coughed to cover it, running your fingers through his hair soothingly. 

JJ cleared her throat. 

“How’s Hotch?” She asked, a bit mischievously. 

You almost panicked, but you knew there was almost no way they could have heard him, and an even slimmer chance that they recognized his voice from one sleepy groan. 

“Last I saw him was this morning around five. He was headed home, so I haven’t the slightest. Why?” You tried not to sound guilty. 

“Really? Cause we thought he must’ve just crashed at your place.” Emily pushed. 

What the hell was going on?

“Nope. I offered, the poor guy was beat. You know him though, he politely—but firmly—declined and then went home.” You lied, whispering softly, and then to make yourself feel a little better, told one truth. “Wouldn’t even accept a cup of coffee for the ride home.” 

“Yeah, that sounds like Hotch.” JJ agreed. 

You relaxed slightly. 

“We’re a little confused though.” Garcia piped up. 

“Oh?” 

“Mmm hmm.” She hummed. “Hotch hasn’t been answering his phone all day and the SUV never made it back to Quantico. So we just assumed…” 

Shit. You hadn’t thought about that.

“Oh, well he was probably too tired to make that drive so he must have just gone straight home.” You murmured dismissively. “It’s not like him not to answer the phone though. He’s probably still sleeping, I wouldn’t bother him.”

“Is that why you’re whispering?” Emily’s tone was full of glee.  

“No…” You hissed. “I told you, he’s not here, he left this morning. My cat is sleeping on my lap, if you must know why I’m whispering. And even if Hotch was here, why is that such a big deal? He was exhausted.”

You didn’t know where the hell you came up with the idea of a cat… you didn’t even have a cat. But it was the first thing that popped into your mind, and it was better than the alternative.

Aaron stirred again, his arms tightening around you. You pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head.

“Well, we tracked the SUV and his phone.” Penelope admitted. Fuck. Think fast, think fast, think fast. “They’re both at your apartment.”

The jacket!

“Just a second let me check something.” You murmured, then waited thirty seconds. “Oh my God, his phone was in the pocket of his suit jacket. I wore it home, remember? Cause I was… underdressed. Yeah I have it. I’ll bring it to him in the morning.” 

“And the SUV?” JJ prompted. 

“I have no idea, maybe he called a cab. Or slept downstairs inside it like the stubborn mule he is.” You joked, and suddenly there was a hand moving slowly down your bare stomach.

Was he awake?

The girls laughed, but you were no longer focused on them. 

 “Wait, you have a cat?” Penelope asked excitedly. “Since when?!”

“Uh, yeah…” You said distractedly, because that hand was now between your legs gripping the thigh closest to him and pulling it up over his legs. Effectively giving himself access to what he seemed to be after. “I got it a couple months ago.” 

You gasped involuntarily as a finger found your clit. Circling it lightly. 

“You okay?” Emily asked. 

You cleared your throat.

“Yeah, I just remembered that I need to pay my neighbor, Marge, for taking care of the cat while I was gone.” You lied, through your teeth, which you were now clenching tightly to keep from making any obvious sounds. 

The finger started to roam again, from your clit, down to your entrance. Teasing at it playfully. 

“I want pictures!” Penelope demanded. 

“Pictures?” You choked out as the finger slipped inside you. 

“Of the kitty!” She exclaimed. “Jesus, are you alright? You sound… distracted.” 

You should have seen that coming, honestly. Of course she wanted pictures of the nonexistent cat!

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You lied. 

You were not fine. 

Aaron’s finger was pumping in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace, doing nothing but tormenting you with the barest tease of what you now knew he was capable of doing to you.

“I don’t have any pictures of the cat, I got him right before I went undercover, I never even decided on a name.” You bluffed. 

“That poor baby!” She cooed, as if the “cat” could hear her. “Take a picture and send it to us! We’ll help you name him!” 

Shit.

“I can’t right now Pen.” You said, biting back a whine as he curled that finger just so. “He’s all curled up in my lap and I can’t see his face. If I move him he’ll wake up and you know the rules.”

“Yeah, yeah, you don’t move until the cat does…” She grumbles.

“ExactLYY!!” You yelped involuntarily as Aaron slid a second finger into your pussy. 

That made him finally look up at you with a smirk on his face, propping himself up on his elbow. 

“What are you doing?!?” You mouthed, and he had the audacity to shush you silently. 

“Are you alright?” JJ asked suspiciously. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You hissed, then looked pointedly at Aaron and said, “The little fucker just dug his claws into me in his sleep and it caught me off guard.” 

The smirk on his face and the mischief in his eyes only grew, as he continued pumping his fingers in and out of you. Leisurely, as though this was the most normal thing in the world and three of your coworkers–and best friends–weren’t on the phone. 

“Uh huh…” JJ muttered, and she didn’t sound convinced. “Well we were actually wondering if you wanted to join us? We were having a little girl’s night, we tried to call you but your phone kept going to voicemail.”

“Oh, yeah, I just turned it back on… but ya know, I’m still really tired, so I think I’m just gonna stay in.” You feigned a yawn to sound convincing. Then made direct eye contact with Aaron. “It was a rough night and then a long morning. When I got home, the cat was really excited to see me. So I knew I would have to play with him before I could get any rest, and let me tell you, he has stamina for his age.”

Aaron scowled down at you playfully, and then he started to move. Pulling his fingers out of you so slowly you could hardly contain yourself. You bit your lip to keep from moaning. 

“Oh is he old?” Penelope asked. 

“He’s practically geriatric.” You quipped.

Aaron’s eyebrows shot up on his forehead, as though he were saying ‘oh really?’ and then, he simply disappeared beneath the covers. 

Oh fuck.

“Awww I wanna see him…” Penelope whined. 

You could feel Aaron’s breath on your pussy. 

“They say cats get tamer and less playful with age… less gullible… not this one though. Dangle a toy in front of him and he’ll chase it everytime.” You said, and you knew that Aaron knew you were teasing him because he chose that moment to lick a stripe up your pussy. 

You let out a strangled laugh. 

“Well we hate to leave you out.” JJ tried again. “What if we came over there instead?”

Your eyes shot wide. 

“Yeah we could bring dinner! And wine!” Emily supplied.

“Oh, no. Guys really, I’m exhausted, I wouldn’t be any fun, I just want to lay here in bed and cuddle the cat.” You protested. 

The cat seemed to like that response, and hummed contentedly from between your thighs, before lapping at your clit. 

“What was that?” Emily asked. 

“Hmm?” You hummed in question. 

“I heard something in the background.” She clarified. 

“Uh, my stomach growled, maybe that was it?” You suggested. “You mentioning dinner reminded me that I’m hungry.”

“When was the last time you ate something, sweetie?” JJ asked, sounding concerned and motherly again. 

“Um… I had some sausage for breakfast while I was playing with the cat.” You smirked to yourself.

Aaron snorted a laugh from under the covers.

“There it was again!” Emily exclaimed.

“I heard it too!” Penelope agreed. 

“That was not your stomach either!” Emily continued. “So don’t give me that again!” 

“The cat snored?” You tried weakly, swatting the back of Aaron’s head. 

“Ow?” He protested softly. 

“Shh.” You hushed him, covering the phone mic with your hand. 

His response was to latch his lips onto your clit and suck. 

Which pulled a very startled, very loud, very non explainable sound from your throat in the form of, “Fuck!” 

“Woah.” JJ said.

“That was a moan.” Emily stated, with no room for dispute.

“That was definitely a moan.” Penelope agreed, excited amusement dripping from her voice. 

“It was not a moan!” You protested. “It was-“ 

“I swear to God, if you give me some bullshit about a cat again I am coming over there and catching you in the lie! There is no cat!” Emily was adamant.

“I- I- it’s- umm-” You stuttered and fumbled for words, but your brain was not currently online. 

Because Aaron had reinserted those two—thick—fingers and was pumping them in and out while sucking on your clit. 

“Oh my God.” Emily muttered, then shouted. “Is Hotch still there?!?!”

“No!” You blurted without thinking it through. 

“So he was there at some point.”  JJ called it out immediately. 

“What? I- no- he-“ you stuttered again. “Hotch was never here!” 

Hotch was most definitely there, and he was making his presence felt more and more every second. He had started to devour you, eating your pussy like a gourmet meal. You could not focus and you were about to cum on his face, for the second time that day.

“Oh she is lying!” Penelope said excitedly. 

“I- I am not…lying!” You struggled to make the words come out of your mouth. “I don’t know where he is, the last time I saw him was this morning, and there is nothing going on between me and HOTCH!” 

Aaron chose the exact moment you said his name to curl his fingers up against your g-spot and flick your clit with his tongue. So it came out in the most pornographic moan you thought you’d ever heard. 

Especially from yourself.

Aaron hummed around your clit, sounding very pleased with himself. Unfortunately for you, that was all it took to throw you over the edge you’d been riding. You dropped the phone, and it went tumbling off the bed with a thud as you grabbed onto the blanket, clutching it for all you were worth. Biting your lip through what would’ve been a scream, but came out a strangled yelp. 

You could hear Emily calling your name from the floor, and the chaos of Penelope and JJ in the background. But you were more than a little busy riding out the intense orgasm that was pounding through you. 

Aaron licked you through it, lapping at your pussy until it stopped pulsing and your thighs stopped shaking. Then he crawled up and rested his head on your stomach, pulling back the covers so you could see his face. Smirking up at you so smugly you could only lay there and think of ways to make his life hell for this. 

“Are you okay!?!” You could just barely hear Emily from the phone speaker as it was now laying on the floor in the middle of the room. There was nothing you could do about that currently, you were fairly certain your legs weren’t going to work for the next several minutes, and you had no words. You didn’t even know what words were, actually, he had simply tongue fucked you stupid.

Aaron kissed your stomach and then got up and retrieved your phone, putting it on speaker so you could hear Emily and the others. Then he grinned at you.

“Sorry Prentiss, she can’t seem to talk right now…” He said. “The cat must have her tongue.” 

“I FUCKING KNEW-” and then he hung up the call, interrupting her mid sentence. 

You stared up at him in panicked shock. 

“Oh my God, are you cra-” you started and he just laughed shaking his head, so you trailed off, dumbfounded at his lack of concern.

“So I’m a stubborn mule, huh?” He asked with a teasing grin. 

You scowled at him. 

“As if you didn’t already know that about yourself…” You grumbled. “And in my defense, I didn’t know how you would feel about them… knowing… about whatever this is. Apparently, it's not an issue…”

He huffed a laugh. 

“They already knew, Sweetheart.” He knelt down on the edge of the bed and crawled toward you.

“How?” You asked. “We weren’t that obvious last night… were we? I mean you could’ve been a little less handsy—not that it bothered me, cause it didn’t—but other than that…” 

He hovered over you for a minute. 

“I slipped up on the phone with Morgan. He backed me into a corner this morning, just like they did with you. They have known all day.” He murmured, then dropped a kiss to your lips. “So there’s no point in hiding it from them any further.”

You hummed against his lips contentedly. Kissing him twice. 

“The exhibitionism may have been a little much though, don’t you think?” You asked, then looked up at him seriously. “I’m never going to be able to look them in the eyes… ever again. And if they tell Morgan what they heard… The jokes will be unending.” 

He smirked, then kissed your jaw, your neck, your chest… and then came back up to your lips for one more kiss, before he rolled to the side and laid on his back next to you. 

“The jokes were coming regardless, baby. Morgan may not have heard that, but he definitely knows something happened.” He sighed. “There’s nothing I can do about it now. I can tell you, that even though he’ll tease, he won’t tattle. Which, in our situation, is more than we could ask for.”

“The others–” 

“Will be discreet… well… I don’t know if they’re capable of being discreet… But they won’t tell anyone.” He joked. 

You laughed quietly and then you just laid next to him in comfortable silence for a few minutes. 

Until you had a thought. 

“Oh my God…” You muttered. “Do you think they told Rossi?” 

He snorted. 

“Oh definitely, Dave is the biggest gossip on the team.” He laughed quietly as you groaned, then kissed your cheek. “He should be the last of your worries though… He won’t say a word to anyone.”

You rolled over so that you were nose to nose with him, resting your hands on his bare chest. 

“You just said he was the biggest gossip on the team, and now you want me to believe he won’t say anything?” You asked incredulously. “How could you possibly know that?”

He brushed his nose against yours three times—making your stomach do backflips—and then kissed you with a smile. 

“Because, first of all, Dave is my closest friend. He wouldn’t say anything that would get me into trouble, unless he thought there was the slightest possibility that I was hurting you; physically or emotionally.” He explained, kissing you again. “Which I wouldn’t ever do intentionally.”

“Mmm this is starting to sound like that talk that you really wanted to have earlier.” You hummed, burrowing in closer. 

“Which we really should still have…” He murmured, his arm wrapping around your waist, hand sliding slowly down your back. “Maybe over dinner?” 

You giggled as he nuzzled into your neck, leaving soft kisses everywhere.

“Are you asking me on a date, Aaron?” You teased, making him pull back and look you in the eyes. 

“Conventionally, I would have done this before I took you to bed, but yes, I am.” He admitted softly. 

“Well something tells me, nothing about this is going to be conventional. Which I happen to love, so yes, I will go on a date with you.” You smiled at him, watching as his eyes lit up. 

He closed the small distance between you and kissed you thoroughly. Your lips parted with ease and his tongue tangled with yours. That hand finding your ass and giving it a firm squeeze, making you moan into his mouth.

Then you realized something. 

“Aaron?” You questioned, pulling back just enough to speak. 

“Yeah baby?” He asked, nipping at your lips gently. 

“You said, “first of all.” That implies there’s more than one reason.” You brought the conversation back to Rossi’s gossiping habits. 

He chuckled softly and kissed the tip of your nose.

“The other reason is because it benefits him if no one comes snooping about our relationship.” He said cryptically. 

“How does that possibly affect him one way or another? We both know that the worst that would happen is they transfer me to another unit, or section. Which would suck for me, but the rest of you would be fine…” You muttered in confusion, scrunching your face up at him. 

His eyes were twinkling with mischief again as he leaned in closer. 

“I happen to know that he’s sleeping with Strauss, and if anyone came snooping into the interpersonal relationships of the BAU…” He whispered conspiratorially, as though it were the juiciest gossip he’d ever heard and you began to wonder if maybe Dave wasn’t truly the biggest gossip after all. 

It was pretty juicy though. 

“Wow, so both our Unit and Section Chiefs are sleeping with subordinates. How scandalous, Agent Hotchner.” You teased, leaning back in and putting your forehead against his. 

“It happens more than you might think, the Bureau just keeps a lid on it.” He admits. “I can think of a few more inappropriate workplace relationships off the top of my head…” 

“Hmmm… well, while you do that…” You murmured, making your voice drip with seduction, running your hands down his chest and stomach until you found the waistband of his boxers—which you were slightly irritated had found their way back onto his body—and slipped one inside. He was already hard as you wrapped your fingers around him. “I think I’ll give you some head, seeing as I’ve received four mind blowing, earth shattering, life altering orgasms from you… and you have still only gotten one in return.” 

You saw his pupils dilate, felt his cock twitch and grow impossibly harder, and his breath stuttered as you started kissing your way down his chest. 

But then your stomach growled—loudly—and you remembered that you actually were hungry. You weighed your options in your head… Get out of bed and eat, or stay in bed and fuck the delicious hunk of a man infront of you for the second time in twenty four hours… 

There was a very clear winner in your mind. 

However, Aaron also heard your stomach call out for sustenance, and he was nothing if not practical. 

“As much as I would love to feel those pretty little lips wrapped around me again…” He murmured, his voice suddenly two octaves lower and oh so raspy. “You did lie to JJ about having breakfast this morning. Which means you haven’t eaten since before you went into the club last night. That's been over twenty four hours now, Sweetheart. You need to eat.”

You groaned and let him pull you back up so that your faces were even, and gave him a pitiful little pout. 

“Technically, I didn’t lie. I said that I had sausage this morning, I did not say that I ate it, or what kind it was. Simply that I had some, and I did. Soo…” You joked, earning an amused chuckle as he shook his head. 

“What am I gonna do with you?” He murmured, almost to himself, though you knew he meant for you to hear it. 

“Fuck me again, preferably, but I also would not mind being fed…” You mused, getting a sexy little smirk for your efforts. 

He kissed you slowly, as though he had all the time in the world and intended to use every second of it to memorize the taste of you. 

When he finally pulled away, you whined pathetically, and he laughed, kissing the tip of your nose. 

“Go hop in the shower, honey. I’ll order something and have it delivered so you can eat.” He instructed. 

You looked at him skeptically for a moment. 

“Will you still be here when I get out? Or are you Irish goodbying me?” You interrogated him. 

“I’m yours all night baby…” He murmured, kissing you once more. “Promise.” 

You wished he were yours forever…

The next morning Aaron woke up early, his limbs still tangled with yours, your soft breaths moving his chest hairs as you lay sprawled across his upper body, your head laying just above his heart, and your hands resting on his shoulders. 

There was sunlight, just barely starting to trickle through the blinds. If the sun was coming up, it was around six in the morning. His body’s internal clock was a well oiled machine. Up at six, no matter the previous night’s activities. 

And last night there were plenty. 

You were sleeping so peacefully… and he truly didn’t want to wake you. 

But he also didn’t want you to wake up alone, wondering where he went, what time he snuck out, and why he didn’t say goodbye. 

And he did have to go, if it was six, then he only had three hours to drive the twenty five minutes from your place to his. Take a five minute shower, iron a shirt and press his slacks, tie a tie, have breakfast with Jack—who he hadn’t seen since the day before the raid (Jessica was a saint)—then drive the thirty minutes to Quantico. Which only added up to an hour and fifty minutes, but if he factored in the morning rush traffic and construction on the beltway… he’d be cutting it close. 

His arms were wrapped around your waist and he tightened them, wanting you even closer for just a moment. Just to savor the weight and heat of your body on his. 

He really hoped he got the chance to get used to it.  

“Sweetheart.” He murmured in your ear, stroking the side of your face with the backs of his fingers.

You moaned softly in your sleep and nuzzled in closer. He smiled and ran his fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp. 

“Baby, wake up for me please…” He said just a little louder, kissing your forehead and stroking your back. 

“Mmm mm…” You mumbled sleepily. “It’s not time yet.” 

“I know, baby… You can go right back to sleep, but I don’t want you to wake up alone later and be sad that I didn’t say goodbye.” He tilted your face up just enough to give himself access to your lips, which he kissed. Once, twice, three times… 

And there… a smile was forming on your beautiful face now. 

“There you are…” He whispered. “Come on pretty girl, open your eyes…”

Your lashes started to flutter and he was breathless—speechless—as you looked up at him with those gorgeous eyes. You looked slightly dazed and a little confused, but as your eyes grew more alert, they flooded with pure adoration that made his heart pound in his chest. 

“Good morning…” You yawned, your voice raspy and sleepy

“Morning…” He hummed, kissing the tip of your nose, then your lips. 

“What time is it?” You asked, nuzzling in closer to him. 

He held you tighter and kissed your forehead again. 

“Around six.” He told you. 

“Work doesn’t start until nine. Why are we awake?” You pouted sleepily. 

“Because I have to go baby, and I wanted you to know that I was leaving instead of sneaking out.” He explained softly. 

“Oh…” You murmured. “Where are you going?” 

“Home, I need clean clothes for work, and I want to have breakfast with Jack. I haven’t seen him in three days.” He explained softly, running his fingers through your hair. Taking every opportunity to touch you while he could. 

Your eyes shot wide and you sat up straight. 

“Oh my God, Aaron! You haven’t seen Jack in three days?!” You exclaimed. “What are you still doing here? I mean, I like having you here but Jack is more important, you should’ve gone home last night! He is probably worried or at least missing you!” 

Your concern for Jack’s emotional state was so endearing, he could help himself and pulled you back down with him. Peppering kisses all over your cheeks. 

“You’re so sweet, pretty girl.” He murmured. “It was already Jack’s bedtime when we woke up last night, and I wouldn’t have made it home before he fell asleep. There was no sense in it, when I knew I would make it home before he woke up this morning. So I stayed.” 

You relaxed slightly and he smiled. 

“I’ll be dressed and ready for work before he opens his eyes. I promise.” Aaron assured you, stroking your cheek. “And yes I’m sure he misses me but he’s used to me being gone for longer stretches of time than this. He’s okay I promise, he’ll just be excited to see me when he wakes up.” 

“Okay…” You murmured, “I feel less guilty for keeping you from him now.” 

He chuckled softly and kissed you thoroughly. 

“I’ll see you in a few hours, Sweetheart.”

It took him five more minutes to get out your door, and the whole drive home all he could think about was you.

He made it home by six forty and tried to be as quiet as possible coming in. He’d already pulled his phone out to send Jess a text, letting her know it was just him and not to be scared.

“Where have you been?” 

He looked up and found Jess sitting on the couch with a steaming cup of coffee in her hand. She nodded her head toward the kitchen where a second mug waited next to the coffee pot. 

“I stayed at a co-worker’s place, we’d been up for forty eight hours and once I dropped them off, I was too tired to make it back to the bureau and then home.” He explained on his way through the living room, walking over to grab the second mug and pour his own cup. “I’m sorry I should have called and let you know, I was just exhausted and it slipped my mind.”

“Oh?” Jess called softly, so he could hear her, but she wouldn’t wake Jack. “Who? Was it Dave, or Spencer? Maybe Derek?”

He wasn’t sure why that detail mattered, but he was happy to make small talk with her if it made her happy. She did so much for him and Jack, that Aaron sometimes felt like he owed her a debt he could never fully repay.

“Uh, yeah I stayed with Dave.” He said, choosing the one he felt was most likely to cover for him if asked later. 

Silence.

He glanced over his shoulder at her as he picked up the now full mug. 

She was squinting at him and in that moment she looked so much like Haley that his heart clenched with pain for a brief moment, and had to take a deep breath to shake it off. 

“Wanna try that again?” She murmured, then took a sip of her coffee, watching him over the rim. 

“Who are you, my mother?” He joked, going to sit in the chair adjacent to the couch and shooting her a teasing grin on his way by. 

“No, just the closest thing you have to a big sister, and you’re my little brother… I’m allowed to worry. Especially with your job…” She shrugged, as if that wasn’t a guilt trip. He knew she was just fishing for answers though and wasn’t actually trying to upset him. “Also, Dave called me yesterday morning, looking for you. Then called me back to let me know that they found you and you were more than alright.”

God, fucking damn it, Dave.

“I was alright.” He shrugged simply, taking a sip of his coffee. Knowing good and well he was caught in a lie, but not really caring to come clean yet. Jess wouldn’t know exactly what he was lying about.

He wasn’t sure he was ready to talk about it, not with Jess. He didn’t want to taint this—whatever this was—with all the emotions that would come with that conversation. 

Not yet. 

“So…” She drawled innocently, too innocently. “Who's the girl?”

 Aaron choked on his coffee. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He gasped through the coughing fit that overtook him. 

But he could feel his cheeks burning. 

“That is the exact look you had on your face that time I caught you sneaking out of Haley's bedroom window twenty years ago.” Jess accused, a look of pure glee on her face. “Aaron Hotchner, you have a girlfriend and you didn’t tell me?! Spill!” 

He was busted… there was no getting out of it now. Not with Jess. When she put her mind to something, she got her way… come hell or high water. 

“ I- it’s- I don’t-” He stuttered, trying to come up with an acceptable answer, and sighing when the best he could do was, “It’s complicated, and very, very new. But I really like her, and I did ask her out–”

“ I would hope so,” Jess interrupted with a shit eating grin, “you spent the last twenty four hours at her place!”

Aaron thought he might just melt into the floor and die. Jess was the last person he wanted to be having this conversation with right now. He just knew his face was blazing red, he was sure because it definitely felt like it was on fire. 

“Jess! I’m not doing this with you right now, I have to get ready for work before Jack wakes up so I can eat breakfast with him before I go.” He started to get up and walk to his room, intent on following through with his plan—and promise to you—to be ready for work before Jack woke so he could give the boy his full attention.

Jess just laughed. 

“Fine… Keep your secrets! But Aaron…” She called after him, and the softer tone had him pausing in the hall. 

“Yes?” He looked back at her. 

“I’m happy for you… It’s about time.” She murmured, and the smile on her face was open and genuine… She meant it. 

Aaron was sure that if he opened his mouth to respond, he would tear up instead. 

He was happy too, in a way that he hadn’t been… in a very long time. 

So he smiled back at her and then continued on to take his shower. 

Jack had been over the moon to see him. 

He’d had a million questions and a thousand stories to tell Aaron when he’d come into the kitchen and found him sitting at the table with his Aunt Jess. 

Aaron answered every question and listened intently to every tale the boy told, and when it was time for him to head to work he’d gotten the biggest hug with a whispered, “I love you Daddy!” 

He couldn’t imagine a better start to the day than the one he’d had this morning. 

Traffic was light on the way to work, he didn’t get stopped at a single light and the closer he got to Quantico the more suspicious he got. He was never this lucky. 

Usually, mornings felt like the universe was conspiring against him. 

So he was bracing himself for the other shoe to drop as he walked into the bullpen and started the coffee machine as he did every morning. Then he walked to his office, flipping on lights as he went.

He was the first one in, as per usual, and so he sat down to catch up on his emails from the last two days. Then his phone dinged twice. 

The first message made him grin ear to ear.

Pretty Girl: Omg I fell asleep after you left and just woke up about 15 minutes ago, I’m gonna haul ass to the office as quickly as I can. 

He shook his head with a soft chuckle and sent back a response. 

Drive safely please, no one else is here yet either and Morgan is late at least twice a week. You’re fine. - A.H. 

He looked at the message and thought it looked too formal, too stiff, and considering the fact that he knew what it felt like to be buried inside you… that seemed a little cold. So he sent a second message. 

I think I left my suit jacket at your apartment this morning, I was a little preoccupied. I'll have to come back by and get it soon. -Aaron

He didn’t even have time to check the other message before you responded. 

Pretty Girl: I’ll grab it on my way out, but uh… You don’t need a reason to stop by, I’ll always be happy to see you. ;)  Also, why do you sign your messages to us? You know your contact information is saved in our phones, right? I have always wanted to ask you that and now that you’ve literally seen my pussy… I think I have enough good will to get a pass.

He snorted to himself. 

Maybe because I’m geriatric and just don’t know how to use technology… And I’ve done a lot more to your pussy than just look at it, or do you need your memory refreshed? I would be very glad to help in that endeavor. –The man who made you come four times yesterday

Pretty Girl: Do you want me to be late? Because if you keep talking to me like that I’m going to have to pull over on the way there and take care of the throbbing sensation I’ve now got between my thighs.

Don’t text and drive… Come to my office when you get here and I’ll take care of it for you.

He didn’t get a response, so he assumed you were doing as he asked, and refraining from texting while driving. So he checked the other message he’d gotten just after yours. 

Strauss: I need to see you in my office at 9:15

Aaron checked his watch. Nine o’ five. He had ten minutes to chug a cup of coffee, maybe prep with some ibuprofen (in anticipation of the headache he got anytime he had to deal with her), and then walk up to her office. 

There was a knock on the doorframe. 

“Mornin’ lover boy…” 

Aaron groaned inwardly, then looked up at Morgan standing in the doorway. 

“Where’s Foxy Loxy?” Morgan teased. 

“She sent me a text telling me she’d overslept and was going to be late.” He tried to brush it off, walking toward the door to go start the coffee pot. 

“We figured you two would’ve just ridden in together this morning, ya know, since you were still at her house at Nine o’clock last night.” Morgan teased, following him down the stairs and through the bullpen. 

“I went home to see my son.” Aaron muttered, not specifying when he’d gone home.

“Jack’s bedtime is at like eight thirty…” Morgan quipped. 

He couldn’t help the small smile that he had to bite back at the fact that Morgan knew Jack’s bedtime. He was a great friend. 

No matter how annoying he was being at the moment.

“I didn’t say I saw him last night…” Aaron smirked, throwing Derek a bone, just to get him off his back. 

He let out a bark of laughter and clapped Aaron on the shoulder. 

“My man!” He crowed. 

Aaron just rolled his eyes, shaking his head. 

“I have a meeting with Straus in…” Aaron checked his watch. “Eight minutes. I would appreciate it if you’d get the team going on the morning briefing if I’m not back by ten.” 

Morgan’s teasing expression dropped immediately as Aaron started pouring himself a mug of coffee, then silently offered to pour one for the other man as well. 

“I’m good… What does Strauss want? Early meetings with her are never good… she’s cranky in the morning.” Morgan warned, as if Aaron didn’t already know.

“She didn’t say.” He answered. “Just told me to be in her office at nine fifteen.”

“I don’t like that, Hotch… I don’t like that at all.” Derek muttered. 

Aaron just sighed and shook his head.

“I’m sure everything is fine… We haven’t had any major discrepancies recently, we executed that raid with precision and we knew going in there would be casualties, but we didn’t lose any agents or officers, we even got our UC out clean.” Hotch shrugged. “Unless one of you has something to confess… then she probably just wants an update on this investigation, since we’re partnered with the Organized Crime division, we made a huge bust but it’s not over.”

“What if she knows about you and Miss Vixen doing things together that are not so clean…” Morgan teased, but there was a hint of concern in his eyes. 

“I don’t see how she could, unless they called her about the SUV, but even then that’s easily explainable.” Hotch assured him. “Everything is fine Morgan, if there is something to worry about, I will let you know.” 

“Okay…” Derek muttered. “But I still don’t like it.”

With that, Aaron sat his mug in the sink, patted Derek on the shoulder and made his way up to the lair of the dragon.

“We need to talk.”

Those were the first words Erin Strauss said to him when he entered her office. 

They did not inspire much confidence. 

“Well, I didn’t assume you ordered me up here for coffee.” He smarted off… then kicked himself…Why couldn’t he just sit down and be quiet? Now she was gonna be pissy. 

“Aaron, this is serious.” She said, “The Organized Crime Section Chief called me this morning.”

Hotch stiffened. 

“Your UC was compromised.” 

Everything was not fine.

You were forty five minutes late. 

You’d made it down stairs and then you’d realized that you couldn’t text him and drive at the same time if you’d wanted to. 

Your car was still at Quantico.

You’d have to call a cab. Or an uber… but either way… you were gonna be much later than you’d originally expected. 

You picked up your phone again to call Aaron and let him know… and then you had another horrible realization. 

You’d forgotten to put your phone on the charger the night before.

You’d been a little preoccupied, as Aaron had put it. 

Your phone only had ten percent, and you figured it’d be better to use it to hail a cab, than to call Aaron, because what could he do? 

Besides, call a cab for you from his phone. 

You didn’t want to bother him with it, so you called the cab and then turned your phone off to spare your battery until you made it to work, running back upstairs quickly to grab a charger.

The cab took another fifteen minutes to get there. 

By that point you knew you’d be lucky if you made it in time for the briefing. 

The cabbie must’ve been like eighty five years old. 

That’s how he drove anyway… five under the speed limit, the whole way and he got stuck at every single light. 

You’d been ready to scream. 

When you’d finally arrived at the office, the entire unit was in an uproar. People were scattering like roaches in every direction. Morgan was standing on top of his desk—shouting orders—JJ and Emily were both at their desk phones, nearly screaming to be heard over the commotion. Penelope was in the conference room, a laptop in front of her on the table. She was in a state of panic and Reid was doing his best to console her. 

You looked around for Aaron. There. In his office with Rossi, he was on his cell phone, it looked like he was calling someone, and then every time they didn’t answer, the furrow in his brow would deepen. His usual suit jacket had been discarded somewhere, his tie was missing, he had two buttons undone on his shirt and his sleeves were rolled up halfway to his elbows. 

Something was seriously wrong.

You picked your way through the crowd, trying to get to someone so they could tell you what was going on. You reached Morgan first, and tugged on the leg of his pants, just to get his attention. 

“What is happening?!?!” You shouted up at him. 

When he looked down and saw you, his eyes widened with… relief? Then he grabbed you by the arm and hauled you up onto the desk with him. 

“Morgan!” You protested, but he wasn’t listening to you. 

“Everybody quiet! QUIET!” He shouted, and the bull pen fell still. JJ and Emily gasped and then Morgan shouted one last thing as he turned you to face Aaron’s office, “HOTCH!” 

Aaron turned and looked out his window. When he made eye contact with you, he dropped his phone and came running out of his office, Rossi hot on his trail. 

“What is happening?” You asked again as the crowd parted for him like the red sea. 

Nobody answered you. Not as Aaron reached the desk, grasped both your hips and unceremoniously transferred your feet to the floor. Not as he took you by the elbow and pulled you, gently but firmly up to his office. Not as he slammed the door and closed the blinds.

They just stared until they could no longer see you, in wide eyed relief. 

“Aaron, what in the world?! What is–” 

He backed you up against the door and kissed you. 

His hands were everywhere; your face, your shoulders, your arms, your waist, your hair… It was like he was checking to make sure you were still in one piece. 

You didn’t know what had frightened him so badly–terrified him, it seemed–but you were happy to console him if you could. So you let him kiss you, until he was satisfied. 

He finally pulled away, just enough so that he could speak–against your lips with his forehead pressed to yours–but he did not let go. His hands cupping both sides of your head. 

“Where have you been?” He breathed. 

“I- I told you I was going to be late…” You murmured, confusion wasn’t a strong enough word to describe what you were feeling.

“You weren’t answering your phone, your car was in the parking lot but you were nowhere to be found, none of your neighbors would pick up their phones…” He started listing things like they were explanation enough, but they weren’t.

“My phone was almost dead, I forgot to charge it last night. I turned it off to save the battery just in case I needed it. I also forgot my car was here so I had to catch a cab, and he was the slowest driver in history I swear and then– Aaron what’s wrong?” You pulled back farther to look at him. 

He was shaking. 

“Are you angry at me?” You whispered. “I’m sorry I was so late, I didn’t mean to be…” 

He shook his head and just pulled you into his arms. Holding your head against his chest tightly and pressed a kiss into your hair. 

“No baby, I’m not mad at you.” He murmured. “I thought I’d lost you…” 

“Lost me??” You asked him incredulously. “Aaron what is going on!?” 

He pulled you over to the couch and sat down beside you, unwilling to be separated by a desk. 

“Sweatheart… you were compromised… Organized Crime called Strauss this morning to tell her they suspected your cover was blown.” He explained. “And then we couldn’t find you.” 

No. That wasn’t possible…

“What?” You asked, your heart pounding in your chest as fear took hold. “No, I got out clean. There’s no way.” 

“I’m sorry, honey, but you didn’t… We thought you did… but apparently one of the bouncers recognized–” He paused and clenched his fist in his lap. “He recognized me.” 

“You? How–” You knew the answer before you finished asking the question. “The private room… He remembered you from the night we…”

“Yeah… He did.” Aaron nodded. “Apparently Organized Crime also has a UC in the ring… he sent in a warning at his last check in. They know about you. I’m so sorry, baby…”

You were shocked… you knew—of course—when you signed up for this, that something like this could happen… but you never imagined that it would.

“What do I do?” You finally had the wherewithal to ask. 

“We, will keep you safe–” 

There was a knock at the door. 

Aaron nodded you over toward the desk and you moved to sit in one of the two chairs as Aaron sat in his desk chair. 

“Come in.” He called out. 

You shot Aaron a nervous glance, as Chief Strauss entered the office. 

“I heard you found her.” She said immediately and then her eyes fell on you. “Ah good you’re already here. We’re glad to see you safe and sound. Let’s talk about next steps.”

Aaron cleared his throat. 

“I was just getting to that.” He said, glancing back at you. “I think this team is more than capable of protecting her, we can work out a schedule and she’ll stay with one of us every week. She’ll never be alone and once we take the ring down, everything will go back to normal.”

Strauss frowned at him and shook her head. 

“I know you can be brash, Aaron, but let's not be so shortsighted. How is your team supposed to focus on the rest of your case load if they’re so busy protecting her. Taking down this ring could take years, and our entire case rests on her testimony. Without it you have no probable cause and no reason for raiding that night club.” Strauss reasoned. “So of course she must be protected at all costs, but your team doesn’t have the time or the resources. Correct me if I’m wrong Agent, but you’re unattached, no spouse, no children, no close family?” 

You blinked at her, in shock for a moment. She spoke as though your life was only as valuable as your testimony. 

“Erin.” Hotch muttered, giving her a look that you didn’t quite understand. “She is invaluable to this unit, and I would be hard pressed to find a replacement.” 

“I asked you a question.” Strauss said to you, ignoring him. 

You snapped out of it. 

“Yes ma’am, that’s correct.” You murmured softly, warily. 

You didn’t like the way Aaron was looking at her, you didn’t like the way she was looking at you. 

“What’s going on?” You asked. 

“It would be in the best interest of the case—and your safety of course—if you went into the program.” She said bluntly. 

You felt your brow furrow. 

“What program?” You whispered… because speaking any louder seemed unwise at that moment…

“Witness Protection.” They said it at the exact same time. Strauss sounded determined, Aaron sounded defeated. 

“What?” You felt your chest caving in, your breaths starting to accelerate, tears welling in your eyes and you could only look at Aaron. “Sir. I- I don’t need that kind of protection, I can stay. I don't want to uproot my life for this.”

You knew that only he heard the unspoken, I don’t want to leave you for this.

The look he gave you would’ve broken your heart if it wasn’t shattering already. 

“Can you give us a week? If we can’t function as a unit and protect her at the same time, then we’ll send her into the program.” He bargained. 

“Aaron…” She sighed. “I didn’t want to tell her this, but if you two are going to be stubborn… The other UC made contact again. He was calling for an extraction, he thought they suspected him too… His unit didn’t get there in time.”

The panic that bubbled up in your chest was sickening, your heart rate skyrocketed, your body began to shake uncontrollably, you broke out in a cold sweat and you couldn’t breathe. 

“Shit.” You vaguely heard Aaron say, everything sounded like you were underwater. “Give me till the end of the day, she won’t leave the building, and I’ll have her ready to go by five.” 

“I’ll let the Marshalls know.” Strauss murmured, then laid her hand on your shoulder. You looked up at her on instinct alone and her face softened slightly. “You did good work… The Marshalls know what they’re doing, you’ll be in good hands.”

Then she left the room. 

Aaron had you in his arms as soon as the door clicked shut. 

“You’re okay, I’ve got you.” He murmured. 

One of his hands stroked your hair as he pressed your head to his chest, the other on your back. You could hear his heart beat–strong and steady–it was the only thing tethering you to solid ground. The only thing keeping you from spiraling. 

You didn’t cry, you were too shocked to cry. 

You just sat there–shaking–in stunned silence. 

“Talk to me sweetheart…” He murmured after… you didn’t even know how long. “What’s going on in there?” 

He tapped the side of your head with the tip of his finger.

“I don’t know…” You murmured, shaking your head as you pulled away, just enough to look up at him, making eye contact. “I- I know that it’s safer for the team… if I go… but I don’t wanna leave the BAU… I don’t wanna leave you.” 

“You’re not leaving to protect us, baby, it’s you that’s in danger here.” He murmured, you nodded that you knew… and he took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tipping your head up. “And you are not leaving. Not for good, it will be a leave of absence, just a sabbatical. I won’t replace you, the position will still be waiting for you when all this is over. I promise.”

You nodded, biting your lip, hesitant to ask what you really wanted to know. 

“And so will I.” He whispered. “Whatever is between us… it’s worth waiting for.”

That was when the tears started to fall down your cheeks. 

“I could be gone for years, Aaron, I can’t ask that of you…” You whimpered. 

“I would wait decades to feel how I feel when I’m with you.” He confessed, wiping away tears with his thumbs as they rolled down your cheeks. 

You didn’t care that you were in the office, you didn’t care that the door was unlocked, you didn’t care about anything in that moment… You just knew that you needed to kiss him… 

At least one more time. 

So you surged forward and melded your lips to his. 

He met you half way, with a tender sort of passion that told you this wasn’t going to end with a kiss. When he buried his hands in your hair, you whimpered against his lips… 

“I need you…” You sighed, barely breaking the kiss. 

He hauled you up out of your chair, picking you up by the backs of your thighs, and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you across the room. He locked the door, pressing your back into it as he parted your lips with his tongue. 

You let him in easily, your hands going to the nape of his neck and tangling in his hair. 

He tasted of coffee and salt.

You realized then, that the salt…was from your tears… Still steadily rolling down your cheeks. 

He didn’t seem to mind. 

Leaning back slightly, and stroking them with his thumbs as he looked at you. Then, as if compelled to do it, he leaned forward and kissed the tears away, so tenderly you thought you might die from the sweetness. 

He turned with you still in his arms—wrapped around him so tightly nothing could have pried you away—and laid you onto your back on the couch, lowering himself over the top of you. 

He started to kiss his way down your throat and when he found the collar of your shirt he started to unbutton it slowly, continuing his trail of kisses with every button he freed. 

You ran your fingers through his hair and down to his shoulders, clinging to him as if he might disappear if you let go… Because you knew, this could be the last time you ever felt him this close. 

It wasn’t fair. 

You’d only just found your way to each other. You should’ve had so much more time.

Two days would never be enough. 

His mouth trailed down your stomach and he found the button of your pants with his fingers, undoing it with barely a thought. He knelt at your feet beside the couch and gently removed your shoes. Looking up at you with so many emotions swirling around in his eyes that you couldn’t pinpoint what they were. 

Then he hooked his thumbs into your pants and slipped them down over your hips, pressing a kiss to the point of each hip bone as he did. The warmth of his mouth on your skin had you arching up off the couch. 

When he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the front of your panties, just below the little black bow on the waist band, you moaned. 

He made his way back up your torso to your mouth, trailing kisses until he reached your lips. Kissing you deeply, so that any sounds you made would be caught by his mouth. Then his hand slipped beneath the lace of your panties, finding your clit and circling it with gentle precision. 

You slid your hands down his back and tugged the tail of his shirt out of his slacks, reaching beneath the fabric, desperate to feel his skin beneath your finger tips instead. 

He shuddered at your touch, leaning further into it and deepening the kiss, his teeth nipping at your lips gently. 

You whimpered softly and pressed up into his hand with your hips, his fingers dipped down from your clit and found you already wet for him. 

“Aaron, please.” You whispered against his lips. “I need you.”

You knew you didn’t have a lot of time. Not here. 

He sat up, dragging your panties down your legs slowly. 

The sound of his belt buckle jingling, the rasp of his zipper, and your mingled panting breaths filled the silence. 

Your eyes never left his, and his never left yours. 

As he lined himself up with your entrance, he lowered himself back over you. His lips met yours again as he slowly pushed into you, catching the low groan that escaped you. 

You felt every inch of him as he stilled inside of you. 

He kept kissing you through it, one hand on the sofa next to your head, the other cupping your cheek. 

When he started to move, his strokes were long and slow, like he was memorizing the way it felt to be inside of you. To be kissing you. He pulled away from your lips, and his eyes roved your face, the hand on your cheek threading through your hair instead. Pushing it away from your eyes. Taking in every little detail of you and committing it to his memory. 

Committing you to memory.

The realization that he also knew that this could be it—that you could be gone for years or end up dead—was too much for you to bear and you began to cry again. 

Tears slipped down your cheeks no matter how hard you tried to blink them away. 

“Baby?” He didn’t even have to voice the question, just stopped moving and looked at you with concerned eyes. 

“You’re looking at me like you’re never gonna see me again and I… it just feels like this is it. This is all we get.” You explained, wiping at your own tears. Trying to get rid of them. 

He grasped your wrist, gently moving it away from your face as your tears fell freely. 

“This is not the last time.” He murmured, wiping them away with his thumb. “This will not be the last time I hold you, it will not be the last time I kiss your lips, or the last time I fuck you until you think you’ve seen God.”  

You knew the last line was supposed to make you laugh… but you only sobbed harder at the memory. The last two days had been so perfect. 

“Hey… sweetheart listen to me.” He whispered. “We will get that first date, we will get to experience the relentless teasing of Morgan and Prentiss, we will have so many firsts together that it’ll be like this never happened.” 

You both knew that those were pretty words… but it was a promise he couldn’t make. You let him have that hope though, because you wanted to believe just as badly. 

So you nodded and pulled him down by the back of his neck to kiss him. He started to move inside you again, his thrusts a little more urgent now, like he needed you so desperately he could hardly contain himself. 

And you felt that urgency too… growing in the pit of your stomach. 

“Don’t hold back.” You murmured against his lips on a gasp for air. 

It was like he only needed to know you wanted him just as badly in that moment as he needed you, because as soon as the words left your mouth he let all restraint fly out the window. 

Your head tipped back on a strangled moan as he fucked you deeper and harder than he had been before. He muffled the sound with his own mouth, kissing you with bruising passion. 

“Shh, I know it feels good baby, but I need you to stay quiet, unless you want the whole bullpen to know what I’m doing to you.” He murmured against your lips when you quieted. 

Just like that, your brain left the building, as it tended to do when this man touched you and spoke to you like that. 

The force of his thrusts were moving your body… and the couch, which had started to make a scraping sound against the floor. 

 Aaron wasted no time, scooping you up off the couch, wrapping your legs around his waist and pinning you to the closest wall. Where he fucked you like his life depended on it, slipping one hand between your head and the wall so you wouldn’t bump against it, and holding you aloft with the other under your thigh. 

He kissed you like you were water in the desert and he hadn’t had a drop in days. The strength of his lower body had you secured against the wall as he pounded into you. 

His hand moved from your thigh and slipped down between your bodies. His fingers located your clit with practiced ease that had you biting your lip—wait, no, that was his lip—to keep quiet. He groaned softly at the sting of your teeth and tangled his fingers into your hair, tugging on it just hard enough for you to feel it. 

His lips moved from yours as he kissed his way across your cheek and down your neck, nipping and sucking lightly at the skin there. 

It made you tighten around him and he moaned quietly. 

“I’m gonna think about this every night until I have you in my arms again, I won’t be able to help it.” He whispered, biting your earlobe gently. “When I close my eyes I’ll see the face you make when you come, I’ll hear the sounds I drag from you with my mouth, feel the way you clench around my cock… nothing—no one—could ever compare. Not to you.” 

You felt that tell tale tension rising in your core… the way he spoke to you… 

The way his fingers worked your clit in tandem with the thrusts of his hips—his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you… Every. Single. Time. 

All that combined with his mouth on your neck—lips, tongue and teeth finding every sensitive patch of skin—was almost too much to bear. 

“Aaron!” You whimpered as he drove you closer and closer to that edge, clutching at him desperately for anything to hold on to. 

“I know, Sweetheart, I know… I can feel you. You’re so close aren’t you? Just need a little more, huh?” He murmured against your neck.

“Yes!” You whined, your nails sinking into his biceps, the only place you could find purchase. “Aaron, please!” 

“Okay baby, you’re gonna have to be quiet. Can you do that for me?” His voice rolled over you like a caress, making the knot in your core tighten even further and you could only whimper in response. He kissed your jaw and your eyes fluttered closed. “It’s okay baby, bite my shoulder if you need to.” 

The very thought of biting him… 

So you did.

You reached up and pulled his collar to the side, and sank your teeth into the muscle where his neck met his shoulder. 

“Fuck, sweetheart…” He groaned in your ear, it was the most obscene sound you’d ever heard, the rasp in his voice knocking the little breath you had from your lungs. 

The ball of tension in your core exploded. 

You bit down harder on Aaron’s shoulder just to keep from screaming and he held you close as your whole body tensed so tightly you weren’t even sure you were breathing. 

“Baby I- I’m-” He started trying to pull out of you, but you held on tightly with your arms and legs. 

“Don’t pull out!” You pleaded, through the euphoric bliss flooding your body. 

“Fuck!” He gasped, and you felt the warmth of his cum filling you up as he thrusted through it. 

Your body went limp, your vision fuzzy, your breathing staggered. 

You let your head fall to his shoulder as you panted. 

His chest was heaving as he leaned into you, using his body weight to hold you up and not much else. 

“We’re making a habit of that…” He murmured after a moment. “As adults we really should know better.” 

“A habit of what?” You mumbled, your brain too sex-adled to put it together on your own. 

“Me coming inside you…” He responded quietly. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s amazing and I’ll never get enough of it, but a pregnancy is the last thing you need right now.”

You scoffed. 

“That’s what pills are for.” You joked. “But can you imagine trying to explain that to the team… Christ… I can practically hear Morgan and Garcia calling us mommy and daddy now…” 

He groans in exasperated amusement. 

“I’ll give you the money for one, though you do know those aren’t one hundred percent effective, right?” He murmurs, leaning his head over and kissing your forehead. 

“Mm hmm.” You hummed, nodding. “That wasn’t the pill I was referring to though. I’m on birth control, but I guess the added protection wouldn’t hurt. Since birth control isn’t always fool proof either.” 

He just pressed another kiss to your forehead and then carried you back to the couch. Laying you down on your back as he slowly pulled out of you, making you both moan softly. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up…” He murmured. “We need to tell the others what the plan is.”

Aaron had a million things on his mind as he helped you get cleaned up. 

He had found some baby wipes in his filing cabinet—that he kept around because they were handy to have everywhere when you had a young child—and brought them back over to the couch. 

“Lay back for me, sweetheart.” He murmured as he knelt by your hips. 

“You don’t have to do that.” You whispered, biting your bottom lip and blushing probably the prettiest shade of pink he’d ever seen. 

“I made the mess. I’ll clean it up.” He smirked at you, as your face went from pink to red. “Baby, there’s no need to be embarrassed. I enjoy taking care of you.” 

“Okay…” You whispered. 

And he was getting a weird read on your body language… he couldn’t quite put a finger on it. 

“Unless that’s going to make you uncomfortable?” He asked, fishing for an explanation for your sudden loss of confidence. 

“Not at all!” You shook your head almost violently as you tried to assure him that wasn’t the case. 

Okay… that wasn’t it… 

So he went about gently cleaning you up, knowing that you would tell him what was bothering you eventually. You couldn’t handle the silence—he’d noticed—you always felt the need to fill it, and that was fine with him. He loved to hear your voice. 

It wasn’t until he was helping you slip back into your panties that you spoke up. 

“Aaron?” You murmured softly, hesitantly. 

“Hmm?” He hummed, biting back his smile. 

“I uh- I don’t want you to think…” You bit your lip again and looked away. 

“That’s gonna be a bit of a problem in our line of work sweetheart.” He teased softly. 

“Aaron…” You groaned, but he could hear the amusement in your tone. 

“What is it baby?” He asked, pressing a kiss to your knee before turning to grab your pants off the floor. 

“I just… I need you to know that I don’t just… do that… with just anyone. I’m not usually irresponsible like that…” You explained—very vaguely, he might add—and yet he only felt more confused. 

“Do what, sweetheart?” He asked for clarification as he gathered your pant legs up so they’d be easy for you to step into, then pulled your legs over the side of the couch so that your feet landed in the holes. 

And you just let him, not making a single move on your own to help. Which he found both amusing and endearing, especially being an expert in body language. This screamed complete and total trust. 

At least on the physical level, you knew he’d never hurt you. 

“I don’t let guys… finish like that… inside me, I mean.” You seemed to struggle getting the words out. “I- I’m not like that, I know that’s incredibly risky for so many reasons. I- I’m not easy… It’s just… it’s different with you. I don’t think when it comes to you, I just…” 

Aaron’s brain short circuited. 

He didn’t hear the rest of your sentence, he was too busy processing the first few fragmented phrases. It seemed that you were in the process of trying to convince him that you were not promiscuous. 

Which he already knew. 

So this confused him. He was unsure of what he might have said or done to imply that you were. He was, however, very sure that he hated the very implication that he’d made you feel that way. 

“Honey…” He murmured, reaching up to cup your face in his palm. 

You just kept talking. Prattling on about how he was the first person you’d ever allowed to take such a liberty with you—which made his toes curl and gave him butterflies, (he would examine those phenomena later) —and how it wasn’t like you to sleep with someone before you’d even been on a date. 

Ah… There it was. 

Last night he’d said, conventionally he’d take you on a date before sleeping with you. Then just a minute ago he’d pointed out that he probably shouldn’t make a habit of finishing inside you because it wasn’t safe… and he’d told you that contraceptives weren’t completely effective. 

Yeah, he could see where you might have taken that the wrong way. 

He took your face in both hands and kissed you. Thoroughly.

It shocked you enough to quiet you. 

“Honey, I never thought you were any of those things.” He assured you. “It’s not exactly a normal situation we’re in right now… the way I feel about you is… intense. It makes sense that we would get carried away and, clearly, that's something we both seem to… enjoy… and that’s all that matters, as long as we’re safe about it.” 

You blinked at him for a second and there were a million different thoughts running across your face. Most of them seemed to be filthy. 

“I really wish we had time to do whatever just went through your head.” He teased as he pulled you to your feet and then pulled your pants up over your thighs and hips. “Unfortunately…”

You grinned up at him. 

“We should probably make an appearance soon, or people might wonder.” You finished his thought. 

Then, together you made sure your clothes were straightened and hair was neat. Aaron put his jacket and tie—which you straighten for him—back on and then he watched you fix your make up. Thinking to himself how beautiful you were the entire time. 

“Ready?” He asked when you turned back toward him. 

You nodded your head and he held his hand out to you from where he now sat behind his desk. You came around the corner of it and took his outstretched hand and he pulled you down into his lap. 

The little giggle that bubbled out of you made his heart clench, he didn’t know when he’d next hear that sound… and he’d started to get used to it.

“Aaron!” You hummed happily. “You said we had to go!” 

“I know…” He murmured, looking up at you and tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “I just want you all to myself… for at least one more minute.” 

Sadness flooded your eyes and he immediately regretted bringing that up. 

“Do I really have to go?” You whispered, holding back tears again. 

Aaron took a deep, in through his nose—hold 1, 2, 3, 4…—out through his mouth. His face tipping up to the ceiling, his eyes closing. He knew he had to say that you did have to go… 

It was the safest thing for you… even if it broke both your hearts.  

“Yes.” He sighed. “Because staying puts you in twice the danger. Staying and working on this case puts you in direct contact with people who have orders to kill you. But in WITSEC, you’ll get a whole new identity, you can alter your appearance, and they will get you far away from here. You’ll be safe.” 

And yet… he had that little nagging feeling in the back of his mind… a little voice that whispered: ‘Are you sure she’ll be safe? The last time you put the woman you loved in WITSEC… you never saw her alive again.’ 

He recognized that voice, it haunted him in every decision he made. The voice belonged to a dead man… he shoved that voice into a deep dark hole in the back of his mind. 

WITSEC was safer than staying here, and last time the situation had been much different. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been safer than I am right now.” You murmured. 

He smiled softly at you, at the implication that his arms were the safest place you could think of.

“I’m glad you think so…” he murmured, kissing the tip of your nose. “We should go, we have prepping to do before I send you with the Marshals.” 

“Prepping?” You asked. 

“You’ll see.” He answered. 

A few minutes later, when you walked together into the conference room to find the others… they were making a plan. 

“Hotch!” Morgan said upon seeing the two of you. “We’ve got a plan, we wanna run it by you, but we’ve got a schedule all worked out and we think we can manage the case load and this case, all while protecting Foxy. Here’s what we’ve got-“ 

Aaron held up a hand. 

“Stop.” He said softly, glancing down at you to find tears in your eyes again. He hated seeing you cry. He laid a hand on the small of your back before he continued. “There’s already a plan, it’s already being put into motion. I appreciate this effort from you all, truly I do… but the circumstances are more complicated than we thought. We can’t handle this on our own and keeping her here with us only puts her in more danger, because we have to keep working the case.” 

The room was silent for a second, confusion thick in the air. 

“Okay…” Morgan said. “Then what’s the plan, fill us in so we can help.” 

Aaron pressed his lips together in a tight line… he knew the reaction this was going to get. He knew that the others would hate this just as much as he did and if anything happened to you…

They’d blame him just as much as he’d blame himself. 

A small sniffle drew everyone’s eyes over to you. You were crying again. 

“She’s crying.” Penelope whispered. “Why is she crying?” 

“I’m sorry, I’m trying not to.” You whimpered, and Aaron couldn’t take it. 

He pulled you into his arms and hugged you tight, in front of the whole team. 

He didn’t care to hide it from them, not when they already knew. 

“You cry if you need to, sweetheart, it’s okay.” He murmured into your hair and held you tighter. 

“Hotch?” Emily, questioned. “What is going on?” 

Aaron swallowed hard, stroking your hair soothingly. 

“Strauss is sending her into the program…” He murmured. “And for once… I agree with Strauss. This is what’s best for her.” 

“The program!?” Spencer exclaimed. “W-what- like witness protection??” 

Aaron nodded. 

All hell broke loose.

He’d been expecting it… he’d known they wouldn’t take it well. Hell they were taking it worse than you were, just like he’d known they would. It was still hard to be patient with them… 

He let them get it all out… 

The surprise, the anger, the fear, the hurt and the sadness. 

But when he told them about the other UC—the dead one—they changed their tune. If the ring was gonna go scorched earth on anyone they were suspicious of… the team couldn’t imagine what the ring would do to you, a woman they knew was a material witness against them. 

Well they didn’t have to imagine, because they knew… so they just tried not to think about it. 

One by one they’d all come to the realization that this was the only safe course of action. 

Even if it wasn’t a sure fire guarantee. 

“You wanted to know what you can do to help.” He reminded them when they all settled down of their own accord. Resigned to the reality of the situation. They all nodded sorrowfully. “Each of you has a skill that I need, to give her the best shot at surviving this until trial. Until it’s safe for us to protect her ourselves.” 

He’d been holding you against his chest the entire time, and you finally looked up at him curiously. 

“Morgan, I want you to put her on the sparring mat. Find every weakness she has and tell her what they are so she can fix them.” He said to Derek who nodded seriously. Then he looked at you. “You write down everything he says and when you get wherever you’re going you find a gym or an mma class and you practice everyday, do you understand me?” 

You nodded at him with wide fearful eyes, and he hated scaring you but he would not let you be vulnerable… you weren’t Haley, you were already capable of defending yourself… but he’d made a mistake in sending her away when she was defenseless on her own. 

He would allow you to go unprepared. 

“Prentiss, you’re gonna teach her everything you can about spotting a tail and losing it. You’re gonna teach her how to disappear.” He instructed Emily.

“Of course…” She murmured, she was biting her nails… she only did that when she was stressed and scared. 

“JJ you’re gonna get her back up identities. Not the one she’ll be using, because we don’t need to know that name… but others… just in case it goes belly up and they find her. So she can get out on her own and call us if she needs help.” He made eye contact with JJ, who was watching him with scrutinizing eyes… she was checking in on him. 

“I’m on it Hotch.” 

“Spencer and Penelope, I need you monitoring chatter. If you pick up anything that sounds remotely like they’ve found her you alert me and the Marshals immediately.” 

They both nodded. 

“What about me Aaron?” Dave asked, and Aaron took a deep breath.

“I need you to remain objective. Keep your focus on the case and not on her… because I can’t… I’m emotionally compromised, and I won’t let this happen again. So I need you to keep things above board, the whole case hinges on her testimony. Every bit of evidence we gather is a step closer to bringing her home. But we have to get it right.” He explained, hoping the urgency he felt was being conveyed. “If we don’t, and they walk, they might target her out of spite.” 

He felt you flinch in his arms and he looked down at you. 

“I won’t let that happen.” He murmured into your hair. 

“When does she leave?” Penelope asked, tears slipping down her cheeks now too. 

“End of day… today.” He answered. “So we have to work fast. It’s nearly eleven, we have until five. Let’s get started.” 

The rest of the day seemed to go by in a blur and the whole time, Aaron couldn’t bring himself to leave your side. 

He watched you spar with Morgan. Helped to spot out your weaknesses and even wrote them down for you. 

He sat with you as Emily lectured you on spotting and losing a tail, he made you take notes and made you promise to study them. 

No one stopped for lunch. 

When Emily was done with you they sat you down because Spencer and Penelope had compiled a power point of every single known member of the ring. Pictures, aliases, identifying marks, and last known addresses. They put it on a flash drive for you to take with you when you left so you could go over it every chance you got. 

After that, he took you down to the shooting range himself. 

He worked with you on your concealed carrying techniques and your draw to fire speed with each carry style. As a federal agent you didn’t need a permit to carry. You just had to pass your weapons qualifications, and you did more than pass. You were nearly perfect. 

Rossi finally made you all pause to eat an early dinner since you’d had no lunch. He’d run home, and he’d made your favorite Italian dish. He even gave you the recipe with specific instructions so you could have it while you were gone. 

JJ had come back just in time for dinner. A manila envelope in hand…

It was thick.

She didn’t give it to you, not yet. You were laughing with Reid and Garcia over something and he could see by the look in her eyes that she did not want to interrupt that moment of peace.

He was sitting right next to you at the round table, but it didn’t feel close enough. 

He tugged your chair a little closer and rested his hand on your thigh. 

One by one the others fell silent, he could see them out of the corner of his eye, elbowing each other and grinning conspiratorially.

He didn’t care, he was too busy absorbing every detail of you… 

“We still want answers about this, by the way…” Emily droned, gesturing between the two of you.

He didn’t bother looking at her, he watched you. 

You blushed bright pink… God you were beautiful. 

“Oh?” You feigned innocence. 

He wasn’t going to hide from them though, this was his family… your family. He may not like their prying, but they did it because they cared. 

“I would think you got more answers than you were looking for last night, Prentiss.” Aaron drawled in return. 

Your face turned beet red at that, and Emily opened her mouth to give a retort, but Garcia beat her to the punch, grinning smugly from ear to ear.

“Really? Then uh, how’s that geriatric cat of hers feeling today? Still pretty energetic?” She asked teasingly, “Or did all the playtime from the last few days wear him out? He’s not as young as he used to be, ya know…” 

“Woah, woah, woah, easy on the geriatric!” Dave protested. “You all are getting a little loose with that word around here.”  

Everyone laughed and Aaron couldn’t help himself. 

“I mean, in cat years he’s only a little over forty, that’s not considered geriatric is it?” He joked.

“Well I’m a little over forty and if I were to get knocked up right now they’d consider it a geriatric pregnancy so it think it’s only fair to label the boys that too.” Prentiss finally got her jab in. 

“Now wait a minute, cut the old fella some slack…” JJ chimed, a sly smirk on her face. “She said he had stamina for his age.” 

Derek finally opened his mouth to chime in but Spencer cleared his throat loudly and nodded toward the bullpen, everyone turned to look. 

Strauss was headed toward the cat walk with two men and a woman Aaron didn’t know. 

He checked his watch. 

Four fifty five… they’d be the marshals then. 

The room went completely still, the silence heavy and thick. 

Then Emily was on your case again.

“WITSEC cannot save you from me, ma’am! You have to come home eventually and when you do…” she waved her fork at you menacingly. “We will be having a discussion about what we heard last night!”

Her attempt to ease the tension—the sadness—in the room did not go unnoticed. 

Sad smiles were offered up around the room, and next to him, Aaron heard you sniffle. 

He was so tired of seeing you cry, knowing there was nothing he could do to make it better. 

So he didn’t look. 

“I love you guys…” You murmured, your voice quiet and strangled. “And I’m gonna miss you all so much.” 

Strauss rapped on the door frame as she stepped inside. 

“I don’t want to interrupt but the Marshals are here, and they already have a placement ready for her. They would like to get on the road as soon as possible.” She announced. 

It seemed like everyone forgot how to breathe for a moment. 

“Thank you, Ma’am.” Was all Aaron could manage to say. 

She took in the silence, the mood of the room, and–for once–did the right thing. 

“I’ll give you all a moment to say your goodbyes.” She murmured and then turned to you and said, “We’ll wait for you at the elevator.” 

“Thank you, Ma’am.” You whispered, your voice barely a breath, almost inaudible. 

Strauss nodded and walked out. 

“Did she just… do something mildly considerate?” JJ asked as soon as Strauss was out of ear shot. 

Derek scoffed, Emily groaned and Dave winced. 

“Is that what she was going for?” Spencer asked. 

“You should have seen her this morning when she told us about WITSEC. She was almost motherly.” Aaron joked, just trying to do anything to make you smile 

“Is that what she was going for?” You quipped with a smile, but it was a weak one at best. 

No one really laughed. 

Penelope was the first to move, rushing out of her chair and pulling you out of yours. 

“Come here you!” She murmured as she squeezed you so tightly, that Aaron wasn’t sure you could breathe. 

After that the others all took turns embracing you, squeezing you nearly lifeless. JJ gave you the manila envelope, and told you what was in it.

And then he was the only one left, and he knew the others had made it so on purpose, because they had all embraced you… So could he. 

He took you into his arms and held you tightly to his chest. 

“You are going to be just fine. You’ll be home before you know it and we can have that first date.” He murmured into your hair, sealing the promise with–what he hoped was–an almost imperceptible kiss to the top of your head. 

Your arms around his waist tightened and for several moments neither of you moved. 

He soaked up every second of it, memorizing the way your body felt against his own, the warmth of it, the smell of your hair, the rise and fall of your chest against his own. 

“I’ll write to you, if they’ll let me…” You murmured into his chest, he squeezed you tighter. 

“Only if you send it directly through the Marshals, not the mail.” He warned you. 

“Of course.” You murmured, and then you were pulling away… and as desperately as he wanted to hold onto you for dear life…

He had to let you go. 

“I’ll write to all of you.” You murmured to the team as a whole. “Every week.”

They all nodded, no one seemed inclined to speak. 

“Let me walk you out?” He offered softly. 

But you turned with tears in your eyes and shook your head no. 

“If you walk out there with me I won’t be able to keep it together in front of Strauss, and I won’t be able to make myself get in that car.” You whispered. “I have to go alone.”

“I understand…” He choked out against his own tears. “Go–” 

“Don’t.” You pleaded with him. “Don’t say that, if you don’t say it… it feels less final.”

He nodded, wiping away a tear that rolled down your cheek. 

“I’ll see you soon.” He murmured instead. 

You nodded at that. 

“I’ll see you soon.” You repeated. 

Then you turned and fled the room. 

They watched you go together. He made eye contact with you one final time as the elevator doors slid closed in front of you, blocking you from sight, and carrying you away.

Taglist: @newtomofgods @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @misacc08 @mystargirl-interlude @arhaenyra

[maladaptive-daydreamer-23]

Ode To Vixen

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

A/N: If anyone needs me, I’ll be sitting in the corner doing penance and reflecting on the chaos I’m about to unleash.

Love,

Mal ❤️🖤🩶

P.S. THANK YOU @cringeiknow for betaing this!!

Warnings: 18+ beyond this point!! MDNI!!! I mean it! If I catch a minor in this bitch I’ll block you! Now that that’s been said: Canon typical violence, gun violence, age gap playfully mentioned but never specified, The dirty talk is thigh clenchingly DIRTY, again Hotch likes to watch, dirty jokes, slight strip tease, there’s a bit of a SWITCH vibe going on in this one I think, oh reader gets cuffed briefly (not by Hotch ya nasty), so much teasing, now for the good stuff; oral sex both fem and male receiving, 69, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, cowgirl position, some hair pulling if you squint, after care, morning sex. IF I MISSED ANYTHING PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!

Pairing: Hotch x Bau!Reader

WC: 9.6k

AO3

Back to Mal’s Masterlist

When you’d given the signal—multiple times, just in case they missed it—you’d immediately gone to the locker room to get yourself out of the way of any over enthusiastic SWAT officers.

It was late, nearly closing time and other than a few night owl patrons, only employees were left in the building. You heard the flash bangs, the shouts of “FBI EVERYBODY ON THE GROUND!” You heard the screams of the girls and the gunfire that inevitably ensued.

That made your heart stall in your chest.

Your team was out there. Hotch was out there.

If you knew him half as well as you thought you did, you could almost guarantee that he’d been leading the raid. First one in, last one out. That was his style.

A leader through and through.

An incredibly sexy leader.

You knew the drill, the plan that the team had agreed on. You were to wait in the locker room until they came to get you. Given that you were unarmed and half naked, you couldn’t really complain.

Unfortunately, when the shooting started, all the other girls came running back to the locker room in search of safety as well.

Screaming their goddamn heads off.

So you could no longer hear the voices shouting in the main room of the club. Couldn’t make out the familiar ones from the strangers. Couldn’t hear him. Only screaming and gunfire. Pure chaos.

“QUIET!” You shouted, loud enough to get the attention of the crowd of trembling strippers. “They’re not after us, obviously, or they would’ve followed us back here. I saw a SWAT vest, the last bar I worked at got raided once. They’re trigger happy, the best thing we can do is sit along the wall with our hands on our heads. Make it clear we’re not a threat. Okay?”

The girls all stared at you wide eyed for a minute, then slowly nodded and began to do what you said.

“They’re probably gonna cuff us all until they figure out whether or not any of us are involved in… whatever it is they’re here about. Don’t fight and don’t panic. That’s a good way to get shot.” You continued. “Just cooperate and you’ll be fine, that’s what happened to me last time anyway.”

They nodded again and then silence fell over the locker room. The gunfire had died down, either they were all dead or the “bouncers” surrendered.

“The girls all ran this way.” You heard a familiar female voice out in the hall.

Doors started banging open one by one, until Emily and Derek finally came bursting in, followed by three members of SWAT. Guns raised, they scanned the room. Both their eyes showed a glimmer of relief as they passed over you, not daring to stop and show any more than a hint of recognition.

Emily was the first to holster her weapon and step further into the room.

“I’m SSA Emily Prentiss with the FBI.” She said, “You’re probably not in trouble, we just have a few questions and then you’ll most likely be free to go home. But you’ll probably need to find a new job, because this place is not going to reopen anytime soon.”

The girls all started to murmur amongst themselves, one named Star even leaned over to you and tried to whisper something. You shushed her gently and looked back toward Em and Derek.

“Ladies, please.” Derek quieted them, his weapon now holstered as well. “The first question we have is: who told you to sit like this if this ever happened? Was it your boss?”

As one, every woman in the room—except Em and yourself—pointed at you.

Derek raised a brow.

“Didn’t wanna get shot.” You muttered distastefully, shrugging as though being on this end of a raid was a normal occurrence for you.

“Take that one to the van for more questioning. Be gentle with her though, she’s not in trouble, yet.” He instructed one of the SWAT officers. A woman. Thankfully. “And tell Hotch where you put her.”

And suddenly you could breathe again.

He was alive.

The officer cuffed you—not a great feeling, especially in lingerie—then she led you out through the club.

“Sir!” She called out to someone across the room, you followed her line of sight and found Hotch, Reid, JJ and Rossi on the other side of the room in a huddle.

They all looked over and saw you, cuffed.

“What have you got?” Hotch asked, doing his best to avoid eye contact with you. To seem disinterested.

“Agent Morgan said to take her to the Van for further questioning. He said to tell you where I was taking her.” She explained.

Hotch nodded, then broke off from the group.

“I can take it from here, thank you. Go back and help Morgan and Prentiss.” He instructed her.

“Yes sir.” She simply walked away.

Hotch took your arm gently and led you outside.

As soon as you cleared the first line of SUVs—out of sight of the doors and windows—he stopped, looked around, and uncuffed you. Being as gentle as he possibly could.

“Are you alright?” He asked anxiously as you rubbed your wrists, even though you’d only had the cuffs on for less than five minutes.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You murmured, glancing back toward the building where you had spent the majority of the last month and a half.

But then your back was against the closest SUV and Hotch’s mouth was welded to yours.

He devoured you.

His hands were framing both sides of your face and his knee had slid in between your thighs.

You’d been so surprised by the kiss that your mouth had opened of its own accord and he had taken advantage of that, his tongue delving in to taste you.

Then you got ahold of yourself and kissed him back. Fisting your hands around the straps of his Kevlar vest, and wrapping your leg around his. You pulled him closer until there wasn’t any space left between you.

His hands started to move then, one sliding farther back into your hair and tangling in it, the other going to your waist with a firm grip that made you whimper softly and sink your teeth into his bottom lip.

That pulled a groan from him, and he pulled away gently to look at you. He was smirking slightly as he pulled something out of the waistband of the lacy red panties you had on and held it up between two fingers in front of you.

“A hundred, impressive, someone must’ve really enjoyed your last performance tonight.” He teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “I know I did.”

You snatched the bill from his hand, face flushing—and not from embarrassment—as you leaned back further against the SUV and let him look at you.

“Yeah?” You purred, surprising yourself at the sensuality of your voice. “Take me home and I’ll do it again naked.”

He chuckled softly, then leaned in and kissed the tip of your nose.

“As soon as this is all squared away, I promise.” He murmured, and then kissed your lips again softly. “I think this case aged me six years. One for every week you were in there without a weapon.”

You took his face in your hands and turned his head side to side. Squinting at his temples.

“What are you doing?” He queried.

“Checking for greys.” You mumbled as though distracted, and not as if that was a well aimed joke.

He was a bit older than you, you weren’t sure how much.

He reached around and pinched you lightly on the ass, making you squeal giddily then cover your mouth. Looking up at him in wide eyed surprise.

“What!?” You asked defensively (but not really, you were grinning ear to ear) “Grey hair is sexy, can’t a girl like what she likes?”

He laughed, just a soft little huff, but it made butterflies stir in your stomach.

“Well, if you find any, just know that you caused them.” He joked, running his fingers through your hair and tucking it behind your ear.

You giggled, opening your mouth to respond but you were interrupted.

“Hotch!?” Derek’s voice rang out through the night air. “Where are you?”

You stepped away from Hotch, not quickly, like you’d been caught with your hand in the cookie jar. Just tactfully, slowly. You weren’t sure how he would feel about the team finding out about… whatever this was…

“We’re over here.” Hotch called back and then he reached around you and opened the SUV door, grabbing a suit jacket off the center console draping it over your shoulders. Then murmured, “You looked cold.”

You laughed softly as his eyes flicked down to your chest pointedly, your nipples were definitely hard and visible.

“Sure, we’ll go with that.” You joked, earning a smirk in return as you put your arms through the sleeves and pulled his jacket tighter around you.

Hotch couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling of relief that had flooded his chest the moment he saw you after the raid was over.

He also couldn’t seem to keep his hands off you.

Your waist, arms, shoulders and back nearly constantly had a hand on them, connecting him to you in some way. He couldn’t help himself. It’d been two weeks since the last time he’d been close enough to touch you, he was taking every opportunity he got.

You were standing next to him in the van, still wearing his jacket and not much else, when you yawned. You tried to hide it, but in a room full of profilers…

“You look exhausted.” JJ murmured softly from across the small expanse, and he was inclined to agree. “One of us should take you home.”

You shook your head in protest, and he fought back a smile.

“No, I'm fine, really!” You insisted. “I’m not even *yawn* tired.”

He shot you a look over his wrist as he checked his watch.

“Yes, that was very convincing.” Hotch teased, smirking at you as you yawned yet again. “It’s nearly four in the morning. Come on, Vixen. I’ll take you home. In fact, we should all go home. Get some rest everyone, and I don’t expect to see you until noon tomorrow.”

A pathetic little cheer went up around the room and everyone began packing up.

To your credit, you tried to stay awake to keep him company on the near hour drive to your apartment, and he appreciated the nervous chatter, but you only lasted 20 minutes.

Soon, your soft snores filled the cab. He smiled each time your head lolled to the side and you jerked it back upright.

He used the time to work up the will to stay in the car, because he knew, if he went up to your place… he wouldn’t be leaving you there alone.

You were clearly exhausted and it would be selfish of him not to let you sleep. Even if he knew you would ask him to stay.

When he pulled into the small parking garage under your building, you startled awake, like your body recognized the motions of the car and knew instinctively that you were home.

“Mmm…” You groaned, stretching your arms and rolling your neck. “Home already? That was fast.”

He chuckled as he put the car in park and threw you a teasing grin. “You would think so, wouldn’t you? Considering you slept almost the whole way.”

Your cheeks turned so red he could see it in the dim light and God did you look beautiful.

“Sorry, I guess I was a little more tired than I thought.” You murmured. “I haven’t had a goodnight’s sleep in six weeks. So I guess I should’ve been expecting that.”

“Well, as glad as I am that you got a forty minute nap, you should go upstairs and get some real rest.” He tried to keep the reluctance out of his voice. “Actually, why don’t you take the day off today? We made a great bust and the case is making great progress toward the outcome we’re hoping for, but you can’t go back to the club with us until we’re sure no one will recognize you and know that you were the UC. Which is all we’ll be doing today anyway. So just rest. There’ll be plenty for you to do tomorrow.”

You gave him a look that he couldn’t quite read and then nodded your head.

“Okay, I’ll take the day off…” You agreed… too easily… “If you do.”

There it was.

“I can’t, Sweetheart. If the team goes in I have to go in.” He shook his head.

“Then give them all the day too. It’s hardly fair if I get to sleep all day and they don’t.” You pointed out.

“You were the undercover agent, doing physically and mentally demanding work while undercover, and you just told me you barely slept the whole time.” He disagreed. “It’s perfectly fair and technically it’s required by the bureau.”

“I also know that you all took turns sitting outside the UC nest in your cars so I was never actually completely alone.” You revealed and he frowned. The others weren’t supposed to tell you that, and they better not have told you- “and Spencer said that you took way more than your fair share of turns. Including the night before last which means you haven’t slept in nearly forty eight hours.”

Spencer…

Hotch sighed.

“Fine, I will give everyone the day off. Look, I’m texting them right now.” He conceded, pulling out his phone and going to the group chat.

Don’t come in today, get some rest. -A.H.

He showed you the text as he sent it.

“Happy?” He asked.

You grinned in response.

“Perfect, now my bed is calling.” You said as you opened the car door and slid down to the ground, closing the door behind you.

When he didn’t follow suit, you walked around to his side and crossed your arms with a frown.

He rolled down his window.

“You’re not coming up?” You asked, trying to seem nonchalant, but your entire body was giving you away. He hated to disappoint you.

He took a deep breath and sighed. “I really shouldn’t sweetheart. You need to rest.”

You shrugged.

“Okay.” You said.

That was easy.

Too easy.

You shrugged your way out of his suit jacket and handed it through the window.

“Thanks for letting me borrow it. See ya tomorrow!” You chirped and started to strut away.

In bright red lingerie, that once again, barely covered anything.

“What’re you doing?” He called after you, two parts panicked and one part amused. He knew exactly what you were doing.

“Going to bed, like you told me too.” You answered over your shoulder.

You were an indecent exposure charge waiting to happen, and he knew that you knew it.

“Sweetheart…” He warned, but you didn’t stop. Just kept on heading toward the elevator. Stilettos, half bare ass and all.

He sighed, got out of the car and followed you.

Jogging to catch up as you held the elevator door with a smug little grin, he went over and over his new plan.

He wouldn’t go past the threshold. No matter what tricks you pulled. You had to get some sleep, it wasn’t healthy to be this exhausted.

“Put this back on, would ya?” He said as he made it inside the elevator, draping the jacket back around you without waiting for a response. “You’re gonna catch a charge, or a cold.”

“It’s summer, and it’s a good thing I know a decent attorney.” You gave him a sly look as you let the doors close and hit the button to your floor.

Did you mean him? He scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“I don’t practice and seeing as I witnessed the crime, I wouldn’t be able to do a very good job of defending you without perjuring myself.” He pointed out, holding back a smile at the thought of trying to defend that in court.

“Who said I was talking about you?” You asked sassily, and then grinned. “Besides, Hotch, it’s not even five o’clock yet. The only person in this building who’s ever up at ungodly hours like this, is me. So I think I’m safe from that exposure charge.”

“Aaron, and did you consider the fact that you’re on camera?” He countered.

You opened your mouth to respond, took a breath and then closed it again. Scrunching your face up in thought for a moment.

“Shit.” You muttered under your breath, and he could not help but laugh. Then you shrugged. “Well, the security guard on duty is probably having the night of his life right now and wishing the jacket would fall back off so he can get his rocks—Wait, what did you say?”

He smiled softly at you.

“Aaron, when we’re not working, you can call me Aaron.” He explained. “It’s nice to hear it sometimes from someone other than Dave. Especially if that someone is you.”

He knew his plan was fucked the second he said the last part. He could see it in your eyes, in your stance, in the way your breath pattern had quickened. He could feel it, in his own pulse, and sweaty palms. The way his chest felt a little too tight. He could swear the temperature in the elevator rose ten degrees from one floor to the next, and his heart was pounding out of control.

He felt himself being drawn into your gravity, moving closer to you without consciously deciding to do it. If he kissed you… he wasn’t leaving here tonight. This morning actually, but semantics.

“Okay, Aaron.” You said it so sweetly, yet so enticingly all at once, and he was so close to his breaking point.

Then the elevator chimed and the door slid open. A cool draft washing over you both and snapping him out of it.

He cleared his throat.

“After you.” He murmured and he could hear the desire in his own voice so clearly that there was no way you had missed it.

The smirk on your perfect lips told him you’d indeed caught it, and were going to exploit it.

He followed you a short way down the hall, until you stopped in front of a door with a keypad on the front.

“This one’s mine.” You said as you punched in the code and pushed the door open.

The familiar smell of home hit you hard as you stepped over the threshold into your studio apartment.

You hadn’t been here in six weeks and you’d missed the place. Your bed was waiting for you on the back wall, and was so tempting.

But not nearly as tempting as the man hesitating in the hall behind you.

You turned and looked back at him with a very coy smile.

“You gonna lurk in the doorway, or are you gonna come inside?” You teased.

“I really shouldn’t.” He murmured, looking all broody and conflicted. Hot.

“I could make you some coffee for the drive home.” You offered, not caring at all for coffee because you knew he wasn’t going home.

“We both know that if I go in there, I’m not leaving.” He reasoned, sticking firmly to his guns. “You need to rest, I can get coffee down the street.”

“Oh I intend to… eventually.” You purred, beckoning him towards you with one finger. “Sure you don’t want just one cup?”

“And there’s really a whole conversation we should have, before… anything happens.” He continued to act like he was actually going to leave, even though you both knew he wasn’t. “I’m a firm believer in informed consent, sweetheart, and I already crossed that line once.”

You nodded with your face pinched dramatically like it was the most serious thing in the world.

“You mean the conversation where you tell me: ‘There has to be balance in this relationship for it to work, because I’m your boss and you’re my subordinate and even if I didn’t intend to, I could take advantage of you. I would never do it on purpose but just in case there would need to be provisions in place…’ blah blah blah… I completely understand and agree.” You mimicked his expressions and his speaking cadence and then you couldn’t help yourself, you cracked a smile. “I’m not naïve, Aaron… consider me informed and consenting.”

He was holding back a smile of his own and you knew you’d won, he just needed a little push.

“You really should be in bed, baby.” He tried one last time.

You chuckled softly. He just kept setting you up so perfectly.

“If you insist.” You purred.

Slowly, you let his suit jacket slip off your shoulders and fall to the floor.

“Sweetheart…” His voice held just a slight note of warning, possibly pleading?

You weren’t sure because you weren’t looking at him. You’d turned around and started toward your bed.

Shedding your lingerie as you went.

You’d gotten very good at taking off your clothes on the go.

“Don’t mind me Aaron, just getting a little more comfortable for bed.” You cooed.

First, went the babydoll top, up over your head and thrown somewhere in the vicinity of the couch.

You took a few more steps and down came your panties. Making sure to give him a good eyeful of ass and pussy as you bent down to step out of them and toss them to the side.

“There, that’s better.” You sighed contentedly, and continued towards your bed. “Ya know, these shoes are pretty hard to unbuckle on my own… I might need a little help.”

“Fuck it.” You heard the door click shut, the lock engage and then there were warm hands on your bare waist, turning you to face him.

You smiled victoriously.

“The shoes stay on.” He murmured, and then he tossed you onto the bed with no more effort than if he were throwing a pillow.

You propped yourself up on your elbows and watched as he rolled up his sleeves, his eyes roving over you like he was starved and you were a feast he couldn’t wait to dig into.

But, God, was he taking his sweet time.

He stood over you and studied you, like he was memorizing every little detail of your body—or deciding where to start.

Your ankles were apparently the winner of the internal debate.

He knelt on the floor in front of you and took them both in his hands, placing a kiss on the inside of each one.

Then he laid kisses on your calves, and the insides of your knees, he trailed kisses up your thighs until you could feel his breath on your pussy.

You tensed in anticipation of his mouth finally finding its mark, but it landed on your hip bone instead. And then the other.

A frustrated whine worked its way up your throat and he chuckled at the sound.

“I know patience isn’t your strong suit, sweetheart, but I’ve been thinking about this for so long… I’m going to take my time with you.” He murmured against the soft skin just below your belly button.

He dropped a kiss there and then skimmed his lips up the plain of your stomach, his warm breath sending goosebumps scattering in its wake. His hands had traveled to your ribs and he stroked them with the tips of his fingers, dragging them down as though he were plucking the strings of a guitar.

Which was ironic, because he’d barely started and yet he was playing your body like a finely tuned instrument.

He kissed, nipped, and sucked his way over the curves of your breasts, drawing small gasps and moans from you as he went.

His hands wrapped around your upper arms and caressed the length of them as he drew them together at your wrists above your head. Clasping them in one hand and running his fingers through your hair with the other. Then down over your shoulder, gliding over your collarbone with his thumb, skimming the top of your breast with the backs of his fingers.

“Stunning.” He murmured, drinking you in before bringing his lips to your neck.

Leaving you completely breathless as he licked and sucked at your most sensitive spots. How he was finding them so effortlessly, you didn’t know, and frankly did not care. Until he sank his teeth—ever so gently—into your throat, his tongue laving at the place where your pulse thrummed.

You didn’t have time to wonder if he could feel it.

Pounding, thundering, racing out of control.

Because now, he was tracing up your jaw with the tip of his nose, leaving soft kisses in its path. He kissed the curve where your jaw met your neck and then tugged lightly on the lobe of your ear with his teeth.

“Aaron, please, I can’t take it anymore, it’s been two weeks of waiting for this. Give me something.” You pleaded on a shaky breath.

You felt him smile against your cheek.

“I think we both know it’s been a lot longer than two weeks…” His soft voice flowing over you like lava. “Hasn’t it, sweetheart?”

His hand, which had been resting just beneath your breast, skimmed the bottom swell of it with his thumb before trailing—so slowly you thought you’d die before he got there—down your abdomen.

You couldn’t fucking breathe, so you weren’t sure how he expected you to speak, but he didn’t seem to mind. He just continued to drive your heart rate through the roof with his voice and the trajectory of his wandering hand.

“Hmm? How many months has it been since you even thought about another man? Three? Four? Five? I won’t flatter myself and say six… not even when I’m just as guilty…” He purred, that hand steadily roaming south. “Not when I’ve been thinking of you for seven at the very least. I can’t even pinpoint when it started. Or maybe I can? Maybe it was the first time I saw you in red? A pretty silk blouse that hugged your curves so perfectly. You were radiant. I haven’t been able to get it out of my head since. Thinking about all the ways I could take it off of you was torture.”

He started to follow his hand with his mouth, slowly.

“What was it for you, baby? What caught your attention?” He asked, kissing his way down the opposite side of your neck, and letting his tongue explore the hills and valleys of your collarbones around the base of your throat. “What do you think about when you’re alone? Is it my hands? The way they would feel on your skin?”

The hand in question had finally made it to the rise of your hip bone, where it started to turn so that his fingers were leading the way.

You were practically shaking in anticipation, every erogenous zone on your person was throbbing, begging, for contact as he had deftly avoided them.

“Is it my voice? The way I might speak to you? You definitely seem to like that…” He continued, and he was right.

His voice was driving you crazy, the low, smooth rumble that you heard in your sleep every night for the last two weeks.

“I’ll tell you mine…” He whispered, his hand inching so slowly toward your clit. “It’s the little details that haunt me the most. The way the sunlight catches your hair and the way it moves in the breeze. The way your hips sway as you walk, the way you furrow your brow when you’re confused, the way you bite your lip when you’re thinking about something. God, how I’ve longed to bite that lip myself.”

He paused, his hand hovering just a fraction of an inch away from where you desperately wanted him, and pulled back to look you in the eyes.

“I know there’s something you think about, there has to be… do you know why?” He asked, and this time he waited for you to answer him. So you shook your head no, because you didn’t know why. “Because I heard the way you said my name when you came on my thigh. Like you’d said it just like that a thousand times. So tell me, pretty girl. Do you cry out my name when you touch yourself at night?”

Holy fucking hell, he was going to kill you with his silver tongue.

You couldn’t come up with a coherent response, your brain had once again abandoned you. As it seemed to do whenever this man was so close to you.

“I’m waiting on an answer, sweetheart, yes or no, do you say my name as you make yourself come?” He repeated himself. “Tell me the truth and I’ll give you what you need.”

“Yes.” You whispered, unsure that you’d be able to say more if you tried.

“Yes what, baby?” He teased, tapping his finger once against the skin just above your clit, making you squirm. Annoying you just enough that you suddenly regained control of your tongue.

“Yes, I say your name when I come! I’ll fucking scream it you want me to, just touch me!” You begged and he smiled.

“Now there’s an idea…” he said smugly.

You opened your mouth to respond, just as his fingers finally met your clit. The response fled your mind and a moan came out instead.

He smirked down at you like the smug bastard you were starting to realize he was. (Though somehow it suited him and only made him hotter???)

“Oh I’m sorry, Honey, were you gonna say something?” He snickered as his finger finally started rubbing your clit in perfect little circles at the exact pace you would have done yourself. “I can stop if that will help you get the words out?”

“No! Please- Don’t- Don’t stop!” You gasped as he added a little more pressure.

“Okay…” He murmured through a sly grin. “As long as you’re sure? Definitely wouldn’t want you to think I did that on purpose…”

He started to move then, lowering himself so his face was over your chest instead of your head.

“I’m fucking sure!” You whined as he sucked your nipple into his mouth, drawing on it hard. “God, just- I- please don’t stop!”

He huffed a soft laugh and as he moved to the other nipple he muttered, “Didn’t plan on it.”

He took his time, leisurely going back and forth between your nipples. Licking and sucking as he continued to work your clit with precision, until he had you writhing and whimpering beneath him all over again.

You were aching to touch him, to feel the firmness of his chest and the strength of his arms. You wanted to know what it would be like to bury your hands in his hair, and maybe pull a little.

Alas, he still held your wrists firmly in his grip.

“Aaron, can- um- can you let go of my hands?” You asked quietly, awkwardly, and then tacked on, “Please?”

He paused and sat up, releasing you immediately.

“Was I hurting you, sweetheart?” He asked, concern written all over his face.

“What? No!” You sat up as well, reaching for him but stopping yourself just shy of grabbing his shirt. “No, that’s not- I just- I just wanted my hands free so I could touch you.”

“Oh.” The concern melted away and you could tell he was holding back a smile.

He reached out and cupped the side of your face, and the way he was looking at you…

“Kiss me.”

You almost didn’t even realize you’d said it— it was a breath, a whisper, barely audible—until he gathered you up in his arms and his warm lips landed on yours.

It was frantic and desperate, a little sloppy, and so passionate it would have knocked you over had he not been holding you up.

The fabric of his shirt was soft against your bare skin, but it was an unwanted barrier between you. You started fumbling with the buttons, the top two already undone from when he had ditched his tie hours ago.

It turned out that it was slightly harder to undo buttons you couldn’t see with shaky fingers. Especially when you were so anxious to get to what was beneath them.

“Help me- mmm- get this off.” You demanded, barely breaking away from his lips as you kept fumbling with the buttons near the top.

He—much more calmly than you—began working on the ones at the bottom meeting you in the middle. When your hands bumped into each other, you decided he was taking much too long. Batting him away from the last button, you hurried to undo it, then forced the sleeves down his arms and tugged at it frustratedly when they got stuck at his elbows.

Aaron laughed, shaking his head, and helped you get the shirt off completely.

“No patience…” He murmured in quiet amusement.

You didn’t see what was so funny, but you couldn’t find a single reason to care now that you had skin to explore.

You let your hands—and lips—roam, his chest, his arms, his back and stomach. You counted every rib and kissed every scar, until you had him memorized.

He let you, sitting on his knees in the center of the bed, he patiently watched as you made yourself familiar with his body.

Until you kissed your way up his chest and neck, all the back to his lips and then settled yourself on his lap. Wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, you threaded your fingers into his hair and kissed him like he was the center of your universe.

And in that moment, he wasn’t just the center, he was the force that held it together.

You had almost forgotten the endgame you had been so desperate for, so caught up in learning him that your urgency had faded into the background.

His urgency, however, was waging a war with the zipper of his pants, and was making itself known to you by way of pressing up against your very bare, very sensitive pussy. You rolled your hips against it once, and the sound that he made was so carnal you couldn’t wait to hear it again.

So you repeated the motion, and sure enough the sound made an encore.

“Fuck, sweetheart, if you keep that up…” He groaned against your lips.

“I have a better idea.” You murmured back, then kissed and nipped your way down his throat, then his chest, climbing off of his lap and continuing your way down his stomach.

Your hands slid down the same path until they found their intended target; his belt buckle.

This time there was no fumbling, and the only shaky fingers were his as he tilted your chin up. Looking down at you with a mixture of excitement, trepidation, and adoration.

“You don’t have to-”

“I actually think it's vital to my sanity.” You disagreed, working on his button and zipper.

He scoffed at your dramatics.

“In that case, by all means, carry on.” He quipped, but his voice sounded more and more strained by the second.

“Lay down.” You murmured, moving back to give him room and pointing where you wanted him to go.

He obeyed without a word, and as soon as he was settled you worked his slacks down over his hips, stripped them down his legs—gently taking off his shoes—and tossed the whole pile to the floor.

His boxers did nothing to hide what was so clearly standing at attention beneath them.

Holy…

The man was packing…

You tried not to react, not to let your face show anything you were thinking, but goddamn, a girl had to wonder where all that was gonna fit.

And of course, since he was the best profiler you’d ever met…

“You don’t have to sweetheart, really, I’m fine to just take care of you.” He offered one more time but his voice cracked and there was a tiny wet patch growing on the front of his shorts.

You cleared your throat, snapping out of your little trance and grinned.

“What? You don’t think I can handle it?” You joked.

He held back a grin of his own and raised a brow at you.

“Baby, you look like you don’t think you can handle it.” He replied.

And you took that personally.

“I’m always up for a challenge…” You smirked, crawling from his feet to his waist.

He watched you with heated eyes as you reached for the waistband of his boxers and slid your fingers beneath the edge.

As you pulled them down, you made sure to take your time, dragging them lightly against the length of him and earning a sharp gasp as a reward. You paid little attention to where the shorts landed as you threw them behind you.

It stood tall and—from the look of it—was a bit more than you could wrap your hand around, but you would not be deterred.

You also decided to get a little payback, given that he’d teased you for ages. Granted, you didn’t have near the patience that he did (which is probably why you still hadn’t came), but still…

You laid a hand on his thigh, running it up his leg at a torturous pace and when you finally reached it you gripped the base and pumped it even slower.

Once, twice, three times.

He groaned, a sound you knew you’d hear in your dreams for the rest of your life.

You were going to be the death of him…

Of that much he was sure as you pumped your pretty hand up and down his shaft. He’d thought about this a thousand—maybe even ten thousand—times in the last two weeks.

Scratch that, the last several months, that was a more accurate description.

Yet, somehow, the real thing exceeded anything he could’ve imagined.

Your hand gripped him so well, and the way you looked while doing it… well, he wasn’t sure he was going to last.

Then you leaned forward, and he watched in awe as you stuck out your pretty pink tongue and licked the bead of precum off the tip, just as it started to drip down the side.

“Fuck…” He hissed out a breath, your tongue was hot and wet and it had him on the verge of begging.

“That’s the idea…” You murmured, a sly little grin forming on your lips for a brief moment… before you wrapped them around his cock and took him all the way to the back of your throat.

Your mouth was made of silk, he was certain, and—God help him—he was already addicted to it.

“You feel so perfect, pretty girl. You’re incredible.” He praised, reaching over and stroking your calf with the back of his hand.

You drew yourself back off of him, until only the head was in your mouth, and then you wrapped your hand around the base, using both in tandem to make a rhythm that was purely meant to torture him.

“That’s my girl, just like that, baby.” He could hardly get the words out but he knew how much you loved for him to talk you through it. “Look at you… You’re taking me so well, sweetheart, and you look so pretty doing it.”

He knew that there was not a world in which he ever recovered from this. There was no going back to the ignorant bliss of not knowing what it feels like to have your mouth on his cock. He would never be able to forget the perfection that was the sight of your lips—still red with faded lipstick—bobbing up and down it. It was the second most beautiful scene he’d ever witnessed.

The first, was the face you made when you came, and he intended to see it several more times before this was over.

“Such a good girl, sucking my cock like you can’t get enough.” He trailed his fingers up your leg and then over your ribs. “So fucking beautiful.”

He fisted his hands in the bedding, and clenched his jaw as you moaned around him, and he knew he needed something to distract him from the pleasure or this show would be over.

He looked around and his eyes landed on your ass— high in the air—and at this angle, he could see your pussy too… and it was nearly dripping. He groaned just at the sight of it, and knew exactly how he was going to keep himself busy while you had your fun.

“Baby, I have to taste you or I might lose my mind.” He warned you, right before he took you by the thighs and hauled your legs up, so your knees rested just above his shoulders. Making you squeal. Your pussy hovered just above his face now.

“But I wasn’t done yet!” You protested.

“I never said you had to stop.” He smiled to himself as he pulled your hips down so that you were firmly sat on his face.

He would happily die, just like this, if you’d let him.

Could he breathe?

Barely.

Did he care?

Not one bit.

You tasted exquisite, just like he knew you would.

He lapped at your entrance as though he were starved and you were the finest meal he’d ever eaten.

Nothing could convince him you weren’t.

He sucked your clit into his mouth and kept light suction on it as he flicked it with the tip of his tongue.

You squirmed against him, and while he didn’t mind you rubbing your perfect cunt on his face, it made his job a little difficult…

So he placed one hand on the small of your back and held you down tightly to his mouth. Then, because his other hand was free, he slid a finger into your pussy and thrusted it in and out slowly.

You moaned around the head of his dick and clenched around his finger so tightly, he couldn’t wait to feel it with his cock instead.

But first…

He really wanted to make you come on his face.

He hated that he wouldn’t be able to see the look on yours when it happened… but that was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

So he doubled down.

Adding a second finger to your pussy, and sucking just a bit harder on your clit, he worked his tongue with an eagerness he could feel you reciprocating with your own mouth.

And if you could still do that, then he wasn’t doing a good enough job.

But then he found the sensitive spot, maybe two inches inside the entrance, and he rubbed the pads of his fingers against it in time with the flicking of his tongue.

“Fuck, Aaron, don’t stop.” You whimpered, having released him from your mouth, pumping him with your hand instead but he couldn’t have cared less about that. “I’m so fucking close.”

He didn’t dare change a thing.

Not when his wrist started to ache.

Not when his jaw locked up.

Not even when his tongue began to cramp.

Your walls started to flutter around his fingers, your thighs started to shake, and your cries got louder and louder, until finally you collapsed against his face with nearly a scream of, “Aaron!”

He’d never heard a more beautiful sound.

He was smiling proudly as he licked at your sensitive clit until you recovered enough to move away on wobbly legs, and collapse to your belly next to him on the bed. Your knees resting by his head and your feet leaning against the headboard.

He laid his dry hand on your ass and gave it a firm squeeze as he licked the product of your orgasm off the other, savoring the taste of you. Then smirking to himself when you hummed in contentment.

“I think I just saw God.” Your voice—muffled by the comforter as you were laying face down—made him laugh quietly. “Everything went white, but then I closed my eyes and there were tiny little spots of color everywhere. It was pretty.”

He smiled, rolling his eyes fondly at your antics. Then he sat up, got to his knees, and gently rolled you over onto your back, settling between your legs. But he made no move to fuck you.

Not yet, even though he was aching—throbbing—to be inside you.

“Are you okay, pretty girl?” He murmured, gently brushing your hair out of your face.

You smiled up at him, eyes full of adoration and a bit of mischief.

“I’m so okay, that I want to taste myself on your lips while you fuck me.” You said, so boldly it nearly gave him a heart attack.

He dropped his forehead to your chest and groaned, “Sweetheart, you’re killing me.”

You giggled as he peppered your breasts, chest and neck with kisses.

Kisses that grew more and more heated the closer he got to your lips.

“You can have whatever you want, as long as I get to see your pretty face the next time I make you come.” He promised quietly in your ear.

“I think I can live with that.” You breathed, your hands snaking around his back and pulling him closer.

He grinned against your cheek, pressing another kiss there and murmured, “Oh you do, huh?”

You nodded and then…

“Aaron?”

“Sweetheart?”

“Fuck me, now please.”

He finally kissed your lips as he lined himself up and gently pressed into you until he was buried to the base inside you.

Time stopped—you knew that beyond a doubt—when Aaron finally slid into you.

You moaned against his lips, where you could taste the remnants of your own pleasure, and wrapped your legs around his waist.

Your red bottomed heels pressing into his lower back as he bottomed out inside you.

He paused then, letting you adjust, or maybe just basking in the moment, you weren’t sure…

“Are you okay?” He asked again, solving that internal debate for you, then kissing you softly again.

“I’m perfect.” You sighed blissfully, kissing him back and threading your fingers into his hair at the nape of his neck.

“Yes you fucking are…” His voice rumbled through you, making you clench around and arch up into him. “Fuck…”

And then he started to move, slowly thrusting in and out of you, like he had all the time in the world…

Or at least all day.

The stretch was like nothing you’d ever felt in your life, and the faster he moved, the better it got. Until he found a steady rhythm. You matched him, thrust for thrust, and each time he hit just right inside you.

You could feel every single inch of him, and it was pure magic, you swore. It was everything you’d dreamed it would be and more.

Just because it was him.

No one had taken such care with you before, and not a single man would ever hold a candle to him again. It wasn’t even over yet, and you already knew that as fact.

You were completely ruined.

Spoiled even.

And you would’ve been content to lay there, and let him fuck you into the mattress until you were both completely sated… but you remembered something he said to you in the private room two weeks prior.

Something that made your heart rate skyrocket.

“Look at you, looking so beautiful like this. I can’t wait to take you home and let you ride me, pretty girl.” He’d said.

You felt yourself get even wetter just thinking about it.

You kissed him again, biting his bottom lip, and then you used his hair to pull his head gently back so you could see his face.

“I wanna ride you.” You murmured.

He smiled and did not hesitate to roll onto his back, with you still impaled on his cock, simply taking you with him so that you were straddling him.

You kissed him thoroughly again, getting another taste of your cum on his lips, and moaned.

Then you sat up straight, even leaned back slightly, taking him so much deeper at this new angle, and you both moaned in unison as you rolled your hips slowly, let your head fall back and closed your eyes.

“I wish you could see yourself right now, pretty girl, riding me like this… you look like an angel or a goddess.” He gushed, sliding his hands up your thighs to your waist. “Taking my cock so well, like you were meant to ride it.”

His words got your blood up, racing through your veins like acid.

That familiar knot started to tighten in your core again.

“Fuck, Aaron, I love it when you talk like that.” You groaned as you slid yourself up and down his shaft.

“Hmm, and I love the way your pussy drips for me when I do.” He spurred you on, using his silver tongue like the lethal weapon it was. “Such a perfect pussy too, so wet and tight for me… so fucking perfect.”

You whined and involuntarily clenched around him, pulling a moan from him as well. Then his hands were traveling up your stomach to your breasts. Taking both in his hands and squeezing, rubbing his thumbs back and forth over your nipples.

“And look at these tits, fitting in my hands like they were made for them… so beautiful.” He rasped, and you wondered if he was as close to the edge as you were.

The furrow in his brow and the tightness of his jaw told you that he was. One hand slid down your stomach, his thumb easily locating your clit and rolling it in time with your hips.

You cried out, the tightness in your core expanding and contracting until you almost couldn’t take it anymore.

“I know baby, it’s okay, I’ve got you, you can let go.” He soothed. “Come on, sweetheart, you can do it.”

You gripped his shoulders tightly to leverage yourself, as your knees started to get weak.

“I’m so close.” You whined, desperately throwing yourself up and down his cock. “Aaron… I- I need…”

He didn’t need to hear the answer, he just started to thrust up into you. Matching your speed perfectly.

“You’ve got it, pretty girl, just breathe and let go. I’ll catch you when you fall.” He promised, his voice like velvet to your ears. “Come for me baby, come all over my cock, I wanna feel every pulse.”

And that was what sent you spiraling into oblivion.

It was like every nerve ending in your body exploded and your head was full of clouds. You could feel tears running down your face and you didn’t even know why, because you felt euphoric. This had to be the hardest you’d ever come in your life, your pussy spasming so hard around him that if you’d had the mental energy, you might’ve worried that it hurt him.

“Aaron!” You gasped, unable to breathe let alone scream.

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” He gritted out, trying to be comforting, but his own orgasm was barreling toward him, and you were pretty sure he was doing everything he could to hold it back. “I’m about to come, pretty girl, where do you—“

“Inside.” You blurted, without thinking twice about it. “Inside me, please I wanna feel it!”

“Fuck, sweetheart, I’m- ahh”

You couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, collapsing in a heap on top of him as warmth spilled into you.

You didn’t even have a moment to process what had happened before exhaustion overtook you, and you passed out cold on his chest.

Hotch was pretty sure he was in a state of mild shock as he laid there, panting beneath you.

He couldn’t move.

He couldn’t speak.

He just was.

Or was he?

He was almost certain he’d just had an out of body experience.

It took him almost five minutes to regain the ability to function like a normal human being, but he wasn’t in any hurry. You hadn’t moved yet either.

So he wrapped his arms around you, content to let you lay there as long as you needed, simply stroking your back and murmuring soft, nonsensical words of comfort in your ear.

It took him several more minutes to realize that you’d fallen asleep. With him still inside you.

“Sweetheart?” He tried, not really having the heart to wake you but knowing you needed at least to use the bathroom before you passed out. “Baby, wake up…”

You whimpered softly and he stroked your cheek tenderly with the backs of his fingers.

Then sighed.

You were exhausted… and so was he, but the least he could do was clean you up a little before he fell asleep beside you.

Trying his best not to jar you too much, he rolled you gently off his chest and onto your back on the mattress.

The separation was almost painful as he slid out of you, but he bit his lip and didn’t make a sound. Not that it mattered, you were out cold.

He stood up and really took a look around the apartment for the first time since he’d been there. It suited you, he could see your personality everywhere he looked and it made him smile.

Considering this was a studio apartment, he could only assume that the one other door in the room led to the bathroom.

He took a few minutes to rinse himself off, and then he got a warm washcloth and went back out to you.

He carefully cleaned you up as best as he could without waking you. Taking the time to make sure he got all the remnants of himself off of you. Well… the fluid ones anyway.

As it turned out, he may have left a few marks here and there with his mouth.

The exhaustion was weighing heavily on him, but he still took the time to make sure he’d locked the door when he’d finally given up on leaving and came inside. (He had.) Then he moved his pistols from where he’d left them, on the entry table by the door, to the nightstand beside the bed. On his way back to the bed, he noticed his boxers hanging off a lampshade. He gave a little chuckle and collected them too, putting them back on once he’d situated his sidearms.

Lastly he dug his phone out of his pants pocket on the floor, intending to silence it so it wouldn’t disturb you.

He discovered, however, that it was already on silent.

Not only that…

But he had seven missed calls.

With an eighth ringing through.

This one was Morgan.

He answered quickly, thinking it was an emergency.

“Hotchner.” He said, stepping back towards the bathroom and closing the door behind him so he wouldn’t disturb you.

“Man we were about to send a search and rescue out for you! Where have you been? We’ve been calling for an hour!” Morgan demanded.

“At home, sleeping.” Hotch lied. “What’s happened?”

“You tell me!” Morgan returned. “The bureau called Garcia and said your SUV had never made it back to Quantico. They said they called and you didn’t answer, so she called and you didn’t answer. Then she called me and I called you, no answer. By that point, she’d already texted the group chat and the others took turns calling you, none of which you answered. So here I am, calling for the last time, before we were all gonna gear up to come find you two!”

“Two?” Hotch asked.

“Foxy Loxy isn’t answering her phone either, and the last time we saw either of you, you were together in the missing SUV. You do the math.” Morgan said, a little more sarcastically than Aaron cared for, but he was too tired to deal with it.

“We’re fine, I left her securely locked inside her apartment, with the alarm set, and then I came home. I’ve been asleep. Just like I’m sure she is.” The lies flowed off his tongue easier than he’d like to admit.

“Then why does the SUVs GPS tracking system say it’s still at her place?” Derek sounded more amused than suspicious at this point.

“Because I was exhausted, so she called me a cab and I left the SUV in the gated parking garage under her building.” Hotch thought of the easiest way to explain that without giving himself away. “She’s gonna take it back when she wakes up, and I’m taking a cab to the office tomorrow.”

“You sure?” Derek asked one more time, his inflection giving clear indication of amusement.

“Yes, I’m sure! What is wrong with you? Can I go back to bed now?” Hotch snapped, a little harsher than necessary.

However to be fair, it was nearly eight in the morning, which meant you and he had been at it for nearly three hours… and he had been up since eight the previous morning, so he was beyond manners.

Derek cleared his throat.

“We pinged your phone, Hotch…” He explained.

“Fuck.” Aaron muttered.

“You wanna explain why you’re still at her place? Or should we connect the dots?” Morgan teased.

“I’m hanging up now.” Hotch said.

“But we’ll discuss it later right?” Morgan asked, already laughing. “Hotch? Hotch, come on man!”

Aaron disconnected the call and drug his hand down his face.

This was tomorrow’s problem.

He turned his phone off, walking back out into your main room.

He stood there for a moment, studying your soft form laying on the bed, and he smiled.

You were worth the headache waiting for him tomorrow.

So he leaned down, unbuckled your red bottom heels, sitting them on the floor and he crawled back into bed with you. Pulling you close and burying his face in your neck.

It took him less than a minute to fall asleep.

Part 3

Tag list:

@newtomofgods @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @misacc08 @mystargirl-interlude @arhaenyra

[chaostraumasworld]

Rhythm of Eddie's Heart

summary: nothing but sunshine, soft kisses, and Eddie Munson ❤️🌿

pairing: eddie munson x reader

tags: soft!eddie x you, no use of y/n, established relationship, fluff, summer vibes, lazy day, cuddling, sun-warmed skin, slow kisses, tender moments, domestic fluff, quiet intimacy, grass tickle wars, sleepy affection

warnings: teen, kissing, sugar overload, floss after reading ♡

words: ~900

notes: dang, I miss him ☆

───────────────

Hidden beneath the sprawling canopy of an old sycamore, the world felt wonderfully distant. Sunlight danced through the leaves overhead while a warm breeze stirred the branches, carrying with it the soft rustle of tall grass and the occasional chirp of crickets and birds.

Time seemed to lose all meaning here.

Eddie leaned comfortably against the wide trunk, one leg stretched lazily through the grass while his other rested loosely bent beside him. Curled comfortably between his legs, you rested against his side, neither of you paying any attention to where one of you ended and the other began. Your head nestled against Eddie's chest as though you'd simply drifted there without ever intending to move again. One hand lay lightly on his shoulder, your legs tangled with his in the easiest kind of closeness.

One of Eddie's arms rested securely around your waist, holding you close. His other hand drifted idly along your back, fingertips absentmindedly wandering up and down your spine in a rhythm almost as steady as the heartbeat beneath your ear.

Ba-bump... ba-bump...

Your breathing had fallen into step with it long ago.

The warmth of the afternoon settled over you, mingling with the scent of sun-soaked grass, wildflowers and Eddie himself, until everything blended into something so peaceful it became almost impossible to keep your eyes open.

Sleep tugged gently at your eyelids.

Something feather-light grazed your ear.

Without opening your eyes, you scrunched your shoulder, convinced a stubborn fly had decided to make you its newest victim. The sensation disappeared just as quickly as it had come.

Only to tickle your cheek a moment later.

A tiny frown tugged at your face as you gave your head a sleepy shake before settling right back into Eddie's embrace, determined to ignore whatever tiny nuisance had declared war on your nap.

Something skimmed teasingly across your lips.

Your eyes fluttered open.

A single blade of grass hovered inches from your face.

Eddie looked impossibly innocent.

The tiny grin threatening the corner of his mouth gave him away long before he gently brushed the blade of grass over the tip of your nose once again.

His quiet laugh rumbled softly beneath your cheek, the gentle vibration drawing an almost sleepy smile from your lips. Instead of looking up, you simply breathed him in, slow and deep.

His scent wrapped itself around you like another layer of warmth—sun-kissed skin, clean cotton, and the faintest trace of sweat from spending the afternoon beneath the summer sun. It was a scent that had long since become comfort itself.

With every steady breath Eddie took, you felt the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek, the slow rhythm soothing enough to lull you right back toward sleep.

Leaning softly against him, you could feel the warmth of his skin just beneath the collar of his shirt, invitingly close. Without giving it a second thought, you tilted your head ever so slightly and let your lips linger in a soft kiss against the side of his neck.

His skin quivered faintly beneath your lips, carrying the salty taste of the summer heat.

You felt him pause.

Only for a heartbeat.

His fingers stilled against your back before resuming their path, slower now, as though he were suddenly far more aware of every gentle touch between you.

When you finally lifted your head, Eddie was already looking at you.

The playful grin from moments before had softened into something quieter, something so openly fond it made your chest ache in the sweetest way. He didn't say a word as he leaned down, leaving only the smallest breath of space between your faces until your noses almost brushed.

Neither of you felt any need to hurry.

Your lips found his in a kiss that was as familiar as it was effortless—warm, slow, and impossibly gentle. His slightly unshaven jaw brushed against your skin, the pleasant scratch of stubble making you smile before you even realized you were doing it. Despite the warmth of the afternoon, the tip of his nose felt cool where it rested against yours.

Without thinking, you shifted just a little closer, settling more comfortably against him. Eddie's hand slipped to your waist, his thumb absentmindedly tracing slow circles through the fabric as though it had always belonged there.

Eventually, the kiss melted into nothing more than shared breaths, neither of you moving far enough to break the quiet little world you'd created. For a long moment, you simply existed there together.

There it was again.

The tenderness in his gaze.

The one that somehow managed to quiet every thought in your mind until the rest of the world simply ceased to exist.

A smile tugged at your lips as you settled back against his chest once more, listening to the familiar rhythm beneath your ear.

Ba-bump... ba-bump... ba-bump...

Your smile only grew.

His heartbeat wasn't nearly as steady anymore. It had quickened ever so slightly—just enough for you to notice.

You never grew tired of that sound.

Never tired of knowing you were the reason it changed.

Closing your eyes once more, you let yourself drift with its comforting rhythm, perfectly content to stay there for as long as the afternoon would allow.

Then...

Something feather-light tickled your cheek.

The smile on your face widened before your eyes had even opened.

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[femmeberlin]

A terrible fact of fandom is that sometimes people who absolutely suck and have stupid takes are going to enjoy the exact same things you do and the only thing you can do about it is sit there with your mutuals who don’t suck like:

[myboobsaresentientbeeings]

"the block button, my liege?" will enter my vocabulary now