🦖

22 || she/her || infp-t || nsfw content criminal minds blog? taglist

[skyler666]

Masterlist

welcome to my blog! glad you could be here :) most of writing will be nsfw, unless stated otherwise, so if you're not 18+ gtfoh >:( i mean it, i won't hesitate to block you.

if you have any requests or ideas pls send them to me

aaron hotchner x gn!reader:

nsfw:

- chicken

sfw:

- i know what you meant

more to come soon 🥰

[spencersiq]

Morgan: Are you crazy?

Prentiss: Legally? No. Reid says there's not a word for my condition.

[hotch-girl]

AARON HOTCHNER and ERIN STRAUSS | 2.23 “NO WAY OUT, PART II: THE EVILUTION OF FRANK”

[thebittersweetscience]

hotch + face injuries

[ddejavvu]

Aaron Hotchner and I would love some sorbet, please, where he is pining for bau!reader. Workmates/friends to lovers please and thank you

you are formally invited to ddejavvu's 10K dinner party, now serving second entrées

my absolute favorite trope :')))

--

One peek at the sandwich you've been served reveals that your worst fear has been recognized: There are tomatoes on your food. You push the plate away from you like it's a bomb about to go off, though maybe the swelling of your face and tongue would feel like one if you ended up having an allergic reaction.

The rim of your plate hits the edge of Hotch's as you slide it away from you, and you apologize to him softly, trying not to draw more attention to yourself. But it's too late, he notices.

"Y/L/N," He peers concernedly at you, "Everything okay?"

"Tomatoes." You mumble, stomach churning at the fear of having a reaction, "'Can't eat it."

He frowns indignantly, reaching for your sandwich and pulling the face up. He scoffs at the tomatoes inside, "You specifically told them you were allergic."

"It's fine," You shake your head, somewhat used to the mix-up by now, "I'll grab something from the snack machine later, or-"

"No," Hotch looks almost offended that you'd sentence yourself to stale doritos for the rest of the day, "Here, swap with me."

He slides his salad, thankfully tomato free, over to you before you can protest, but you shake your head anyways, "It's okay! Really, it's happened before, no big deal."

"It is a big deal." He insists gently, "It's your lunch, and we probably won't get much of a dinner tonight. Just take it," He implores you, his large hand still curled around the rim of the plate, "Come on."

He's right, and you know it. Hell, you two were barely able to slip away from digging through records to find this little diner, and you had to be back within the hour. There were no other options.

The plate is extended like an olive branch, though you're not sure why he's being so insistent about it. He looks at you delicately, worry shining in his eyes as he drags your contaminated sandwich over to his own place.

"But you ordered the salad." You supply weakly, "You wanted the salad."

"Well you ordered a sandwich without tomatoes," He raises his eyebrows, "I'll enjoy the sandwich if it means I don't have to use this."

He reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket, flashing an epi-pen at you. The familiar item sends your stomach churning, less with nausea and more with butterflies, this time. You're flattered, endeared, and maybe a little embarrassed that he's got a nursing kit for you set up in his coat.

"You carry that with you?"

"'Course I do," He folds the sandwich closed again, fingers stained with the dressings used, "What if you were to go into shock around me and I couldn't find yours?"

"It's always in my bag."

"That's not the point." He levels you with an unimpressed glare for a split second, then points at your new salad, "Now eat, before one of the officers notice we're missing and tell us our entire profession is just guesswork."

[littlemissfangirlobsessed]

"You know it's not the same as it was."

[luveline]

Hiii I literally love you and your writing especially your Eddie writing!!! Anywaysss, could I request a shy!reader where they and Eddie are dating but they kinda kept it on the down low but reader was having a bad day and was being all clingy and like everyone found out and the hellfire club was just like 😮

hi i love u ty for ur request! hope this okay ♥️ shy!fem!reader | 1k words

You know you shouldn’t go to his club. It’s not fair of you. Hellfire is one of his sacred nerd rituals. As soon as he sees you like this he’ll put it on pause, and you also know – one of the only things you do know about Dungeons and Dragons — that stopping in the middle of a game interrupts the flow.

Still. You’re feeling a little selfish and a lot strung out. Today has sucked and all you’ve done is wish he was there to make you feel better, so you walk down the hallway to the club room and stand at the door, trying to summon the courage to open it.

On the other side, Mike Wheeler catches a flash of your clothes through the small glass panel and frowns. He jabs Dustin Henderson hard in the side, earning a, “What the fuck, dude?” that Mike quickly shushes.

“There’s a girl outside,” he says.

Girls are… uncommon, at Hellfire.

Dustin leans forward to look around Mike’s torso and forgets to whisper. “Is she crying?”

Eddie looks up, annoyed at being interrupted by the newbies and about to delve into a speech on respecting your dungeon master when his gaze slides past them. He spots your torso, your hands pulled up to your chest, and he knows it’s you. From the curve of your arm alone.

He’s half standing when you knock.

The rest of the group gawp as he stands. Usually, Eddie would either ignore whoever it is or have someone else answer, and his sudden willingness is downright shocking.

He cracks the door open. He’s barely had time to take in your tear stained cheeks when you’re whispering apologies. “I’m really sorry,” you say quickly, pulling the sleeves of your soft cardigan down over your hands. “I needed to see you.”

“What happened?” he asks, trying for hushed like you but missing the mark.

Mike and Dustin make incredulous faces at each other, eyes squinted in confusion.

“Who the fuck is that?” Mike asks.

Lucas Sinclair grins from across the table. “Who do you think?”

“You know her?” Dustin questions. He sounds pissed to have been kept out of the loop.

“Nope,” Lucas says, elbows sliding over the crinkling paper of his character sheet as he pulls in his chair. “I’ve never seen her before in my life. But that’s definitely his girlfriend.”

A handful of laughs from around the table. “Yeah, right,” Gareth says.

Lucas leans in even closer, practically conspiratorial as he points to Eddie’s dirty-white sneakers. “Look, see how close they’re standing?” When nobody looks convinced, Lucas glares. “I know what I’m talking about!”

He really does. The toes of your shoes are a hair's-width from Eddie’s, face to the ground as you scrub your wet cheeks. Telling him about your bad day has made it somehow feel better and worse, and your breathing comes shallow.

“I’m sorry,” you say again. “I know you’re playing your- um, your game.”

Eddie glances over his shoulder. The large majority of the group whip their faces back to their sheets, caught. He shoots a scowl at them all, though any annoyance slips away when he turns back to you. You look so sad.

Eddie doesn’t really think about it. He steps out into the hall and lets the door close behind him, arms wrapping around you placatingly. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“It’s been a really shitty day,” you say hoarsely.

“I know,” he murmurs, rubbing your back. Your shoulders tremble under his palm. “You should’ve found me earlier.”

“I didn’t want to ruin your game.”

“You haven’t. They’re on break,” he promises.

It’s a total lie but he couldn't care less about the campaign, not when you’ve come unraveled. You nod into his chest and worm your shaking hand around his waist, squeezing so tightly it aches. His head tucks over yours like it was made to and he wills some stillness into you, perturbed by your shuddering. He hates when you get like this. You're so wound up you can’t calm yourself down.

Inside the club room, there’s a riot of whispering, some quieter than others.

Lucas sits back in his chair smugly. “Dude, you have a girlfriend. You shouldn’t be so surprised,” he says to Mike.

Mike peers through the glass door with a mild disgust. “Me and my girlfriend don’t do that.”

“That is not true.”

“We don’t-“

“No, they really don’t,” Dustin agrees. “They’re too busy trying to swallow each other.

Anyone who’d been listening starts to laugh, worse when Mike’s cheeks flare red and he flips them all the bird. The laughter quickly dies when the door opens and Eddie returns, his sad maybe-girlfriend trailing behind him.

“Someone get a chair for Y/N,” is all he says.

You look like you might burst into flames on the spot. Everyone’s eyes are on you. You hate it.

“Thank you,” you say, though you aren’t sure who you’re thanking as somebody passes you a chair. Eddie sits back in his ‘throne’ and you sit beside him, cheeks dry but eyes still red and face downtrodden.

Eddie leans back and rolls his eyes at the silence. “She’s my assistant for today's session,” he says concisely, before any of them think they have the right to ask.

Eddie can’t hold your hand and you don’t think you could survive it in front of so many people, but when the game starts back up and everyone is distracted he pushes his foot behind your calf and pulls your leg toward him. There’s a smile on his face as he orchestrates the next dungeon, his pen scratching down notes you don’t understand.

He rips a page from his notebook and passes it to you covertly.

You take it and let it lie against your thighs. When you read it, you struggle to suppress a giddy smile.

Prettiest assistant ever. Think she'll let me take her out tonight?

He likes his chances.

[hotch-girl]

CRIMINAL MINDS | 5.19 “RITE OF PASSAGE”

[ladylibby]

As it Seems - Twenty-Four

Masterlist |  As it Seems Masterlist | The Hotch Playlist

Summary: The BAU is accustomed to change – different cases every day, agents coming and going, roles changing – so the addition of a new member, an Administrative Liaison, should be no different. But the moment you arrive, everything changes for the better (Hotch just doesn’t realize it at first)…

Chapter Summary: When the BAU take a trip out to Rossi’s beach house for the weekend, family dynamics emerge – with all their drama, love, and laughter. 

(A/N: Hi my loves! I’ve been on a family vacation trip the last week and a half,  which has been fun but also exhausting, a little like our reader’s experience in this chapter – but it also means I haven’t been able to write much. Hopefully we’ll remain on track for weekly updates, but I may have to do another skip to catch up…anyway, even if I haven’t been writing I have been thinking and planning and enjoying imagining what it would be like to spend some fun quality time with this team we all love <3)

“It’s like watching our own personal olympics,” Garcia says, her tone laced with reverence and awe, “So majestic and athletic. I can’t look away.” 

“I mean, I work out, but running on sand for fun? No, thank you.” Prentiss pushes her sunglasses down, peering over the top, “I am happy to watch, though.” 

You huff out a laugh at the two of them, shaking your head as you look up from your book. The team is gathered at Rossi’s beach house in King George County for the weekend, blowing off some steam by enjoying the end of summer weather by the edge of the chesapeake. 

It’s not a huge waterfront property – just a small summer getaway, Rossi reasoned – but it does have a little private beach with sand and sun and everything, behind the big outdoor deck of the cottage. Hotch and Rossi are up there now, moving in and out of the house prepping burgers (veggie and otherwise), hot dogs, bell peppers, and zucchini to be grilled for dinner. Rossi is rocking a “kiss the cook” apron, mixing drinks for the grownups and homemade lemonade for the kids (and Reid), while Hotch mans the grill. 

 Out on the beach, Jack and Henry are building a sand castle with Reid’s guidance and advice. Jack was pretty cranky for most of the morning drive down to the house, upset that Hotch wouldn’t let him finish the episode of Phineas and Ferb he was watching while you and Hotch got the car packed before leaving. He’d been quiet and sullen in the car, but seems to have perked up to his usual self after playing in the water and making a new (if younger) friend in Henry. 

 On the other side of the beach, closer to the water, JJ and Morgan are playing a competitive game of one-on-one soccer. Morgan had found an old soccer ball among the life preservers in a storage bench on the deck, and after getting in the water with you, JJ, Garcia, and the kids, he challenged JJ to a game. 

You sit with Prentiss and Garcia on the three adirondack chairs set on the far edge of the sand, closest to the backyard, under the shade of a big beach umbrella. You’ve been reading and looking up to check on Reid and the kids every so often while Prentiss and Garcia enjoy the athletic entertainment, providing lots of appreciative commentary. 

JJ has possession of the ball, dribbling fast to keep it just out of Morgan’s reach. She fakes left and then dives right, landing a kick that sends the ball skidding between Morgan’s legs. 

“God, she’s good.” Prentiss breathes, and you have a feeling she’s not even aware she spoke out loud. 

“God, he looks good.” Garcia adds, biting the tip of the squiggly straw in her gin and tonic. 

Morgan does look like something out of a swimsuit catalog– his chest bare and shining with sweat, his shoulder tattoo on full display, appearing strong and powerful as he runs after JJ. Prentiss tilts her head in neutral assessment, as if seeing where Garcia’s coming from but not really getting it. 

“You two should go on tour,” You tease. “Take your commentary on the road.” 

“Oooh,” Garcia coos, “I like that idea. We’d make a good double act.”

Prentiss scoffs, letting her knee knock into yours. “Go ahead and make fun, but we all know that if Hotch were out there you’d be sitting here drooling worse than either of us.” 

You open your mouth to argue, and then remember how after seeing Hotch come home from his morning run the other day you’d almost made both of you late for work. 

“Shut up,” you mutter, earning laughter from each of them. 

Keep reading

[ladylibby]

As it Seems - Twenty-Three

Masterlist |  As it Seems Masterlist | The Hotch Playlist

Summary: The BAU is accustomed to change – different cases every day, agents coming and going, roles changing – so the addition of a new member, an Administrative Liaison, should be no different. But the moment you arrive, everything changes for the better (Hotch just doesn’t realize it at first)…

Chapter Summary: In the middle of summer, temperatures aren’t the only thing heating up.

(A/N: This chapter was supposed to be a little filler before an important plot point in Chapter 24 and then the idea of our reader buying a new dress very very much got away from me. I did, admittedly, enjoy writing it and I hope you enjoy reading it ;))

Warnings: Sexual Content (oral sex, male and female receiving, unprotected sex, semi-public sex (they just do it in his office, calm down))

She will be the death of him. 

He’s not surprised. And he’s not all that upset about it either, to be completely honest. But she will be the death of him. 

From the moment he laid eyes on her this morning, Hotch knew that today would test him– and he would likely fail. 

It’s the unfortunate product of too many factors coalescing, too many chains of cause and effect converging on this day, right here, right now. Any one of them on their own, he could handle, he could conquer, he could maintain his sense of control, but all together…he knows, deep down he doesn’t stand a chance. 

There was the fact that he hadn’t seen her for two days. He’s heard her voice over the phone, but that’s not the same. He and Reid have been away teaching a profiling seminar for Chicago area law enforcement for the first half of this week, only arriving back in D.C. late Tuesday night. 

Late enough that dropping by Y/N’s apartment or calling her to come to his was out of the question. Honestly, he has a feeling she would have been fine with it, but he didn’t want to deprive her of sleep or ask her to make the trek across town just because he can’t seem to handle going seventy-two hours without kissing her. No, waiting until today was an exercise in respect and control. 

Control that was immediately tested when he saw her this morning. He got in early, though not much earlier than she did. He was still standing behind his desk, unpacking his briefcase when he turned to see her walking through the tall glass doors on the other end of the bullpen, chatting with one of the staffers as they arrived in the office. 

There was the baseline level of positive agitation always inspired by the sight of her. The impulse to go to her, to hear her voice, to simply stand in her presence and feel its warmth and humor and safety. 

But there was also the fact they haven’t had sex in almost a week, creating an ever-growing longing between them. He had this seminar, and before that Jack was sick and Hotch was obviously focused on taking care of him, and then before that her friends from college were back in town and she was out for dinner and drinks with them. It’s not like sex is the most essential part of their relationship— far from it, but he does want her. And he only wants her more the longer he goes without her. 

And there was also her dress. It’s new. Otherwise he would have remembered it. He definitely would have remembered it. 

It looks like summer, long and flowing and made of thin, silky fabric draped over her shoulders and cinched around her waist. The neckline is low, not inappropriately so, but certainly more than most of her wardrobe. The wrapped style of the skirt reveals a long slit to the middle of her thigh, not consistently, but allowing that glimpse of skin to peek out whenever she walks and the fabric shifts and flows with her movement. 

She must have bought it on Tuesday, when she went shopping with Garcia after work. When he called her before bed, she mentioned browsing a few department stores with the bespectacled analyst, though she talked more about Garcia’s antics than about her own purchases. He wishes she had. Maybe she could have warned him about how good she looks in that dress. 

Considering their recent separation, her general affect on him, and now this dress…he can feel his control wavering. 

And it only gets worse. 

Keep reading

[daddyisatitlenotagender]

HAPPY BUTCH APPRECIATION DAY!!!!

I LOVE YOU BUTCHES

I LOVE YOU STUDS

I LOVE YOU BABY BUTCHES

I LOVE YOU OLDER BUTCHES

I LOVE YOU FAT BUTCHES

I LOVE YOU DISABLED BUTCHES

I LOVE YOU HAIRY BUTCHES

I LOVE YOU NB BUTCHES

I LOVE YOU TRANS BUTCHES

I LOVE YOU GNC BUTCHES

I LOVE YOU SMALL BUTCHES

I LOVE YOU TALL BUTCHES

I LOVE YOU SPORTY BUTCHES

I LOVE YOU NERDY BUTCHES

I LOVE YOU LONG HAIRED BUTCHES

I LOVE YOU SHORT HAIRED BUTCHES

I LOVE YOU BISEXUAL BUTCHES

I LOVE YOU ASEXUAL BUTCHES

I LOVE YOU STONE TOP BUTCHES

I LOVE YOU PILLOW PRINCESS BUTCHES

I LOVE YOU DOMINANT BUTCHES

I LOVE YOU SUBMISSIVE BUTCHES

I LOVE YOU SWITCH BUTCHES

I LOVE YOU FEMININE BUTCHES

[hard-candy-writing]

'can i borrow your bed?' part ii

part i

summary: it's been weeks since eddie's room became your safe place for 'time to yourself.' but when your personal time gets unfortunately cut short, he's there to help out.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, pure smut. perv!eddie, choking, masturbation (f and m), p in v, a teeny bit of oral (f receiving), slight dom!eddie, clit slapping (yeah we're going there). eddie calls reader 'sweetheart' and 'brat' and reader calls eddie a pervert.

a/n: you asked for it, lovelies. hopefully it lives up to your expectations! i go feral seeing your reactions <3

tags for my thirsty friends: @ghoul-lily, @ladydovahkiin180, @sage111222, @catramoon, @merlyagrindelwald, @hahahaeddiemunson , @l0ve-s1ckn3ss, @inkedaztec, @pedroswh0r3, @hateqlt, @faffacake, @brattypeony, @bietchz, @froglivr, @strangeh0rizons, @ilikechocolatemilkh, @hellfirehope, @eddiethesexy, @eddiemunsonslips, @angelbbygrl, @took-me-hours-to-steal-those, @lightmelikeamatch, @lulukings92, @my-tin-can-mans, @apricotpopsicle,

Snow fell heavy and silent as you drove the familiar route to Eddie's trailer. You leaned forward, squinting, as if that would help you see through the whiteout. It was already so dark. But you knew your way. You'd gone there often enough.

It had all started one summer afternoon. Eddie had lent you the privacy of his room so that you could try out your new vibrator -- to much success, in your opinion. Without a partner to help out (and with Eddie woefully oblivious to your feelings for him), that thing was all that stood between you and being pent up enough to snap at the most minor inconvenience.

It had also brought you closer to Eddie, weirdly. It seemed rude to just drop by, do your business, and leave. It wasn't like they wrote etiquette books on this type of thing. So you ended up spending more time with him, buying him a six pack to pay him back which he insisted on splitting. Watching movies, going out (before and after), smoking -- a lot. Until the lines between awkward and normal blurred, and suddenly going to his trailer to get off in peace was as average as going to one of his shows.

It wasn't weird with him. And it made you fall even harder.

You didn't bother knocking. It was too cold to wait for him to answer, anyway. You stomped the snow off your boots, locked the door, and followed the sound of Eddie singing. He was always humming, whistling, or mumbling music to himself. He was in his bedroom, grabbing a fresh pair of pants and a shirt. You sat down on the edge of his bed and crossed your legs under you.

"I can't believe you're dragging me to Harrington's house for a party," he grumbled as a greeting.

You rolled your eyes. "You like him. Everyone does."

"Everyone does," he mocked, wrinkling his nose as he grabbed a crumpled pair of jeans from the floor.

"Don't you own any jeans without tears in them?" you asked. "You're gonna be freezing."

"I run hot," he said.

"So you wouldn't mind me kicking you out for a few minutes?"

Eddie grinned but didn't look up at you as he fished out a pair of socks from his chest of drawers. "You want me to go for a walk? I can."

You shook your head. As the days had gotten colder, you felt worse about shoving Eddie out of his own house to give you privacy. You didn't always let out pornographic-level moans. He could be in the living room, reading a magazine, and seemed completely unfazed by you fooling around in the next room when you came out.

"I was about to hop in the shower," he said after grabbing a pair of boxers and adding it to his pile. "I'll be about ten minutes. Is that enough time?"

"Sure."

He left the room, waving over his shoulder as he went. "Have fun!" he called, and shut the door behind him.

Oh, you would. The thought of being with him all night, him searching you out in the crush of people, meeting his eyes from across the room... You didn't even need to tease yourself to get yourself going. The thought of him was enough.

It was always enough.

--

The water pressure was shit, but that was what trailer life entailed. A small stove, an even smaller water heater, and thin walls.

Very thin walls.

While Eddie couldn't hear the buzz of the vibrator over the rush of water, he could hear your moans. It was as if he was tuned into the sound, picking it out from the roar of the rest of the world. He was already hard from the thought of you -- that was enough -- and he shampooed and washed as quickly as he could. The rest of the shower would be spent with his hand around his cock; there would be no time between then and the party, after all.

He bit down on his lower lip to keep from groaning, forehead resting on the wall the bathroom shared with his bedroom.

Five minutes may have passed. Your moans were getting higher. He knew you were close; after so many months, he had memorized every gasp and squeak, every moan and sigh. He could tell when you were close to cumming, when you were frustrated, when you wanted it rough.

"Fuck!"

Eddie froze. He knew that, too, but not from your visits. He'd heard the same tone of voice when your car's engine gave out last winter, and again that past summer when you'd lost your favourite necklace. (He'd kept it under his pillow for a week, imagining tightening it around your throat while you laid under him, until he gave it back under the guise of finding it laying around.)

He poked his head out of the shower.

"Y/N?" he called, then cut the water. "Y/N, are you okay?"

"Y-You can hear me over the shower?"

He winced. "Y... Yeah."

"Oh... Whatever!" Frustration bled through every word. "Whatever, just... It's fine."

"Doesn't sound fine," he said as he stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist. He left the bathroom and stood at the closed bedroom door. "What happened?"

"Stupid thing ran out of batteries."

"Oh." He frowned, uncertain of what to say. "I'm guessing the timing wasn't ideal?"

"Great deduction skills, Munson." You sighed heavily. He could hear the sheets shuffling. "You wouldn't happen to have any extras laying around, would you?"

"Not that I've seen."

"Well," you said after a moment. "I guess that ends that..."

"Or..."

It was stupid. That was the best part about it: he could just play it off as a joke, if it was too much. He could laugh and muss your hair and tease you about it after.

But if you said yes...

"Or?" you pressed, the silence between you loaded.

"Can I be of assistance?"

--

What? You, he... What?

You blinked, lips parted in shocked, staring at the door that stood between you. Your whole body still tingled, was still ready, still on the edge. But suddenly, it felt as if you were in a dream. You couldn't have heard him right.

"Are you serious?" you asked just as he followed up with, "I-It's no big deal to me."

You both laughed.

"Can I come in?" he asked. "I'm, I'm decent, by the way. Wearing a towel."

"Y-yeah," you said, tucking yourself further into the sheets.

Eddie stepped inside and shut the door behind him. You must have looked silly, his covers up to your chin. But you quickly forgot about what you looked like. You fought not to stare, the towel sitting low on his hips, one hand keeping it pinned closed. Water droplets still clung to his bare chest, making his tattoos glitter. His hair was longer, heavier with water, dripping as it clung to his neck and shoulders. The room was small, and you could feel the raging heat that radiated from his body.

"So were... were you serious?" you asked again. "Or are you just making fun of me?"

"I'd never make fun of you, sweetheart."

You scoffed. He gave you a crooked grin.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm serious. A friend in need, you know?"

"It wouldn't bother you? Like, it wouldn't be gross to you, seeing as we're friends?"

Eddie clapped a hand over his chest, wincing. "I see how it is. She thinks being with me is gross."

"N-No! I just don't want it to be awkward."

He looked up at your through his lashes, smiling. "I think we're well past awkward." He rubbed the back of his neck. "And if it makes you feel any better, you'd be helping me out with a, uh, similar problem."

Your gaze drifted down to the towel. It hadn't struck you that it sat awkwardly on his hips, betraying the shape just beneath. You chewed your lip.

"You're making me feel like a piece of meat, Y/N."

Your eyes shot back up to meet his, your cheeks heating.

"Are we doing this, Munson?"

Eddie pulled one hand away from his waist, opening the towel a little. The other side still covered him, but he waggled his eyebrows nonetheless.

"Should I do a strip tease? Will that do it for you?"

You giggled and sat up on your knees, keeping the sheets wrapped around you. He made you feel so... relaxed. They never laughed in the pornos, or in smutty books. But it felt right, to tease and snicker and scoff.

You shot him a wink. "Oh, are we doing it that way?"

You let the sheets drop.

--

Fuck. Fuck.

Eddie had kept the mood semi-serious to make you feel comfortable. To give you an out. And if you asked him to stop -- if you hesitated for one second -- he would withdraw. But it was certainly difficult to go back from this.

You were... God, you were perfect. Every freckle and mark, curve and bump, slope and shadow. It was like you were made to be held, to be kissed, praised -- no, worshiped. No matter what you looked like, he knew he'd be on his knees for you. But this was so much more than he'd expected.

Eddie stalked forward, to the edge of the bed, and your eyes tracked him all the way. Steady, studying -- anxiety swimming deep in your gaze. She thinks I'm not sure. He let his fingers drift up your neck until he held your cheek, thumb running over your bottom lip. You shut your eyes, your shaky sigh warming his chest -- inches away from each other.

"If you're not sure, we can stop. Okay?"

You nodded. He pressed him thumb to your chin and pulled your mouth open.

"Use your words."

"Okay," you repeated.

He let his towel drop, and you opened your eyes at the sound. He could see your throat bob.

"You're already..."

Eddie let his fingers drift under your chin, pulling your gaze up.

"I may have heard a little more in the shower than I let on."

"You were eavesdropping?" you gasped, mock salaciousness.

"Are you mad?"

His hand grazed your throat, down to the slope of your shoulder, tracing the bones, the curves. You shook your head, and he pushed you. It only took a little pressure for you to fall back, and he climbed over you.

"You sounded so sweet," he whispered against your throat, lips brushing the soft skin there. "I couldn't resist touching myself. It can be difficult, knowing someone so beautiful is laying in my bed, fucking herself with her vibrator."

He pressed a kiss to the base of your throat, suckling, nipping, drawing out soft mewls from your lips. Your hands drew up his back, tangled in his hair. Encouraging him as he dipped his head low, peppering kisses all over your chest, between your tits, beneath them. His nose brushed a nipple, and it stiffened in a second. Already, you were wet with shower water. Eddie lapped up the droplets, tongue snaking out to flick over your peaked nipple. You let out a sharp gasp, fingers twisting in his hair.

One hand ghosted up your leg, tracing over your knee, your thigh, your hip. His fingers brushed your pubic bone. He released your nipple with a wet pop, looked up at you.

"Yes?" he asked.

--

You took his hand and guided it to your slick folds, still tingling from the vibrator. The second he touched your clit, you let out a soft sigh -- not shocked but satisfied. Finally, your body sighed. Finally, he was touching you. You wanted to throw your head back and shut your eyes as his mouth sealed over your other nipple, tongue swirling and flicking over it. But you didn't want to miss a second, especially when he shot a coy glance your way.

He circled your clit, testing each side until he found the one that made you moan the loudest, made your hips buck up to meet his touch. Eddie dipped his fingers between your folds, spreading your slick all over your hot, puffy sex. His touch electrified you. Excited currents ran just under your skin, and your heart pounded so hard you were certain he could feel it.

He was hot. Maybe it was from the shower, but his touch seared you. The windows of the trailer were fogged up. He read each sound you made and seemed to chase them, seeking out every moan. You could have gotten lost in him -- in his heat, his scent, his skilled touch. When he slipped two fingers between your folds, you spread your legs wider -- eager, begging.

"Eddie," you breathed, searching for the words but coming up blank. "You... you're amazing, you're... Are you rutting against the bed?"

"I can stop myself, sweetheart," he panted against your chest. "I'm knuckle-deep in your hot, soaked cunt, my face buried in your tits. I'm aching down here."

"Stop using the bed," you giggled. "Start using me."

Something changed in him then. Something shifted in his face, moved in his eyes -- something darker, baser, something that ran deeper than what he showed on the surface. Eddie lifted himself up, kneeling between your legs. He withdrew his fingers from your pussy and used your slick to coat himself. He pumped his cock over you, looking you up and down.

"Do you know how hard it is, sleeping in this bed after you've used it? Some nights I lay awake wondering if I'm going insane."

You grasped one of your tits, kneading the nipple between your fingers. "I think about you when I lay here. Pretending my vibrator is your cock."

"Like this?" He slid his cock against your folds. Hot, hard, velvety soft.

You tipped your head back, grinding up against him. "Yes, yes."

His thrusts were slow, hard, pressing against your aching cunt with enough pressure to make your squirm. Eddie grasped your hips and held you down, grip strong enough to leave marks. It stung, nails digging into your flesh. But the pain mingled with the heat between your legs, the delicious friction that built up and up as he picked up the pace.

"How often do you listen to me?" you gasped, grasping his forearm with one hand as the other played with your tit.

Eddie's chuckle was dark, low. "How often do you moan my name?"

You lifted your legs, locking them around his waist. "Fucking pervert."

His expression darkened. He moved one hand to your throat, squeezing the sides. "You're the one leaving wet spots on my sheets, sweetheart."

"I'll bet you lick them up."

Eddie shifted, leaning down to lick a firm stripe from your opening to your clit, his hot tongue laid flat against you. You let out a quivering moan, grasping at his hair. You shut your eyes, lifting your hips up, begging for more. All you got was a quick, rough slap on the clit, then he was lining his cock up to your opening.

"You're being so mean to me," he said, his voice hoarse with arousal. "I lent you my bed all those times. Was a perfect gentleman to you. Now here I am, helping you get off, holding back when all I want to do is stuff my cock into your pretty mouth, and what do you do? Call me a pervert." Both his hands returned to your hips, holding you down again. "Beg for it, Y/N. Beg for my cock."

He pushed inside -- just a little, just enough for it to sting. You tried to push further, but his hands were firm on you, pressing you into the plush bed. Your pussy clenched around nothing, begging for something -- for him.

--

"Please," you mewled. "Please, Eddie. I want you."

That was enough for him. God, you didn't even have to say anything. Just tasting you, feeling you rut against him, hearing your desperate moans -- all of it was enough to drive him crazy. But Eddie wanted more. He had held back for so long, now he wanted to savour it.

"You want me to what?"

You pouted, and one hand came up to grasp your jaw.

"Don't act like a brat. Use your words, or I'll get dressed and we'll go to the party right now. I'll let you squirm all night. Tell me what you want." He let go of your jaw and returned his hand to your hip.

"I want you to fuck me! I want your cock inside me."

It was a whine. A drawn-out, pathetic cry for him. Eddie smirked and, slowly, carefully, pulled you onto him. You were hot, wet, soft. So much more than he had imagined. You let out a moan, head tipped back, eyes shut, back arching. He bottomed out and paused, catching his breath. Your pussy throbbed around his length, and it was all he could do not to cum right then.

"You okay, sweetheart?" he panted, trying and failing to keep the arousal from his voice.

You nodded. "Mhm."

He moved his hips -- slowly at first, testing, teasing. Drinking in the feeling of your cunt clenching around him, your fingernails digging into his forearms. But as you relaxed, as the tension melted from you as stinging subsided and became pleasure, his thrusts grew faster, harder. He grunted with effort, from the warm, tight sensation pooling in his lower abdomen.

The snow outside muffled all sound. There was only your moans, his gasping breaths, and the slap of your flesh against his. He released your hip and traced two fingers across your lips. You opened them, sucking the digits for a moment before he pulled away and circled your clit.

"Eddie," you groaned.

"You like that, sweetheart? You like it when I play with your pussy?"

You nodded, but Eddie hardly saw. He was too distracted by the way your tits bounced with every thrust. There was so much more he wanted to do to you. He wanted another taste of your cunt; he wanted to fuck your throat; he wanted to let you ride him. But right now, he was addicted to the way you moaned, the way you looked beneath him. He couldn't focus on anything else.

This was already more than enough.

"Eddie," you moaned again as he licked his fingers and returned them to your clit. "'m gonna cum."

"Do it, sweetheart. Let go and cum for me."

--

Your orgasm was so strong that your eyes shut, your back arched, and your fingernails scraped down his arms. Heat exploded from your core. You forced your eyes open, watching Eddie as he thrust wildly into your cunt, letting you ride out every dizzying wave.

"'m so close, Y/N. S-so clo-- f-fuck."

You felt his cock twitch inside of you. Eddie stopped rubbing your clit, which was already overstimulated from his attention, and gripped the sheets above your head to steady himself. Warmth filled you as he came, letting out a string of barely-intelligible cusses.

Eddie leaned forward, his forehead on the bed beside your head, panting hard. His wet hair fell over your shoulder. You lifted it, tucking it behind his ear. He was red there, and all over his chest, up his neck. He turned his head to you, smiling.

"Holy shit," he gasped.

You giggled. "My thoughts exactly."

His hands came to cup your face, and as he slid out of you, you both sat up. He held you, one arm winding around your waist. You flung your arms over his shoulders.

"You... You were okay with that?" he asked.

You scoffed. "No. I cried out in pleasure because I hated every second."

He pinched your cheek. "So. You wouldn't mind doing that again?"

You couldn't hold back your smile. "Yes! I, I mean, no, I wouldn't mind. I'd... I'd like that, I --"

Eddie's nose slid against yours, his lips inches away from you. How was it that moments earlier, he was inside of you, yet this felt more intimate? You tipped your chin up, letting your lips brush. He closed the distance, mouths meeting in a slow, deep kiss.

"Should we start now?"

He leaned back, studying your face with an incredulous expression. "I thought we were going to Harrington's party."

"I mean..." You lifted one shoulder. "If you insist."

Eddie shook his head. "Oh, no. I just got you, sweetheart; no way I'm giving you up that easy."

He pulled you down, on top of him, and both of you let out a laugh quickly cut off by another kiss. You could have stayed there all night in his bed. Your bed, really. You planned on being in it often enough, after all.

[epistaxia]

I could stare at your back all day

♡ Eddie munson x fem!reader ♡

Summary: Eddie’s trying to smoke the last cigarette but you’re ferling very clingy and don’t want to take your hands off him, in any sense.

Contents/warnings (18+ MINORS DNI!!): smut, handjob, (quite a lot of) spit as lube, switch!Eddie (sub! leaning), mention of oral (m recieving), cigarette smoking, a foot appears but not in a fetish way, fluff, lots of hugging, aftercare [1.8k words]

A/N: sorry for the misleading Mitski lyric beacuse this is quite filthy. English isn’t my first language so, please be kind and any kind of feedback is greatly appreciated :)

“Please Eddie, stay a bit more. Here? With me?” you ask him with your face buried in his curls, between his shoulder blades.

 Hes’s leaning on the windowsill to smoke outside your window and you’re holding him from behind. Even if you can’t see his face from there and his hair tickles, you don’t want to let go of him. You don’t want him to leave, leave alone in your room. Not this evening.  

Keep reading

[ssa-sapphic]

“i hope you're all excited for a slightly older, sassier, no filters, grey-haired prentiss. and if you aren't, that's cool, just tell someone else.” - paget brewster (twitter)

[hellfirexhoe]

what are friends for | eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: Eddie has always come to you, his best friend, with all of his problems, but his latest one might just wreck your friendship

2,900+ words

warnings: 18+ only MINORS DNI, heavy horndog smut content, friends to lovers, virgin!Eddie, oral sex (m&f receiving), p in v intercourse, unprotected sex, creampie, orgasms, squirting, some fluff

“Scoot.” You nudge Eddie from the centre of his bed using your foot as you sit beside him. “Okay, what’s the problem?”

Eddie chews the side of his mouth and fiddles with his rings, not willing to make eye contact with you.

“Eddie, I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong. Come on, who do I need to beat up?”

“Nothin’ like that.”

“Ah, finally he speaks!” Eddie doesn’t laugh, just continues to fiddle and avoid looking at you. You reach out to pat his leg comfortingly and he recoils slightly.

“Okay, now you’re just being weird. Out with it Munson, I guarantee you there is nothing you could say that would shock me.” This makes him chuckle softly and he whispers words you can barely hear.

“Eddie?”

“I’m, uh, I’m a virgin.” Eddie scratches his head, clearly uncomfortable,

“That’s…sweet?”

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[chineloscorner-deactivated20230]

The feminine urge to hold any small child on my hip

[ronensass]

tired lizard dads

tags: @chaotictarlos @sapphire11 @detectivecarlosreyes @safeashousespdf @marzzinaa @losttttt