✶ SYNOPSIS. ₊୭˚ After a long day of work, you and Terry walk through the door with only one desire; step into the shower to wash off the sweat of the day away and take care of each other.
✶ RELATIONSHIP. ₊୭˚ Terry McCandless/AFAB | Assigned!Female!At!Birth!Reader.
✶ GENRE & THEMES. ₊୭˚ Fluff, Domesticity, Domestic Fluff, Showering Together, Hair Washing, Chest Hair, Body Hair, Pubic Hair, Suggestive Themes, Some Teasing, Breast Play, Light Nipple Play, Slow Making Out, A Dash of Biting, Tongue Sucking, Reader Slaps Terry's Ass, Married Terry McCandless, Gifs Credits at The End. AGELESS AND BLANK BLOGS DON'T INTERACT WITH MY WORK OR YOU'LL BE BLOCKED.
✶ WORDS. ₊୭˚ 3,281k.
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The day had been long, and made longer with the sweltering summer air. Terry's shirt had become like a second skin, with how much he had been sweating. A grunt slipped from his mouth when he stepped out of his car, the door slamming behind him, his damp jacket tucked under his arm.
Leaving the office building had been the most thrilling thing he had done today, even if it meant suffering the searing rays of the late afternoon when walking to the parking lot. Climbing in his car also meant driving back home and, therefore, to you. And his lips tugged at the corner when he saw your own car parked in the alley of your house.
Terry wondered how long you had been home, and if you had hopped into the shower as soon as you went through the threshold as you always did after work on the hottest days, or if you were waiting for him. At least, that was what he hoped as he turned his key into the lock of the door.
His polished leather shoes, slightly dirtied by the street dust, tapped quietly on the carpet on the floor. Terry dropped his keys into the bowl, before he turned around to peek into the living room. His eyes locked onto your heels left near the couch and he smirked, knowing you were either in the bedroom or drinking water in the kitchen.
“Darlin’,” Terry called after he unbuckled his gun holster from his belt, laying it beside the bowl, and walked into the living room. “Aren’t you gonna greet your husband?”
A creaking sound from the wooden floor answered him before your head peeked through the doorway of the kitchen. Smiling, you said, “If you wanna be greeted, you better come get your kiss.”
Not needing to be told twice, Terry walked over to you, before he stole a grinning smooch from your lips. You replied by leaning into him, your mouth lingering on his for an instant, “Was your day as boiling as mine?”
“I’m feelin’ rather hot, right now,” he snickered, brown eyes twinkling with mirth. Your chuckle ringed sweetly in his ears, and made him follow your own glance when you looked away. He slipped a finger under your chin, brushing your mouth again with his, “Yeah, I think you’re the hottest thing I’ve felt today.”
You smacked his chest with a giggle, the sheen of sweat shining on your face and the bow of your lips with the bright rays of the late afternoon, “You’re such a horndog. Aren’t you tired from the weather? I feel like a puddle.”
After an instant, Terry nudged his chin over his shoulder, “I don’t know if I’m gonna make it to dinner, Sugar. I think I’ll be sleeping before the sun’s down.”
“Uh. Too bad, I was gonna ask you if you wanted to take your shower with me, you said, feigning disappointment, laying your hands on his chest. Your fingers drummed on the damp cotton of his shirt, pouting despite the mocking glint in your eyes, “But if you wanna go to bed, I’ll just think about you under the water.”
Terry nodded along, squinting in amusement, “And I’m the horndog?”
A smile quirked the plump swell of your mouth, “I do need a shower. You can either take it with me or not, but you gotta choose fast, sugar. I’m not gonna wait for you,” you said as you went around him, walking back to the hallway and the stairs leading to your bedroom.
“If I ever say no to that, love, I want you to take that baseball bat I got and beat me with it,” Terry answered, following after you, his fingers tugging on the knot of his tie.
You chuckled, climbing the stairs with your husband behind you. Once you stepped through the door of your bedroom, air thick with the scorching rays of the day that had bathed the room since dawn, Terry threw his dark tie onto the bed, walking behind you and leaving a warm peck in the crook of your neck.
He then went through the drawer of the dresser to find fresh pairs of underwear —two pairs of his; one for him and one for you— and old shorts. You unbuttoned your shirt, tugging with a sigh on your sleeves rolled to your elbows, under the eye of Terry who delighted in the sight of you undressing in front of him. Your slightly damp shirt found a home on the floor, your light, linen trousers soon thrown with it.
“Are you going to undress or are you just going to look at me?” you wondered, glancing around your shoulder, now standing in nothing more than your unmatched dark pink thong and lavender bra.
“Oh, I don’t know. I kinda like what I’m seeing,” Terry smirked, undoing the buttons of his own shirt, sweat clinging to his skin. He made a show of taking it off after tugging the cotton out of his jeans, his broad shoulders rolling with the movement.
Despite the tiredness straining your body, a tingle of warm appreciation had tiny sparkles tickle your spine. The bright and hot, amber glow of the afternoon kissed his freckled skin in the most tempting way.
Then, you spun around to him, winding your hands behind your back to unclasp the hook of your thin bra, your nipples peaking through the lace making Terry’s eyes glow with darkening want. You yanked on the straps, before you threw it away and told him, “And if you undress faster, you’ll see me naked.”
On that, you walked to the bathroom, flicking the light on. In the bedroom, you heard the chink and tinkle of Terry's belt meeting the floor, before a faint sound of his jeans being tugged on came to your ears, drawing a smile upon your mouth.
Taking a cotton round, you wiped away the faint remains of your blush pinkening your cheeks, faded away under the scorching gleam of the day, and your lipstick. You looked over when Terry walked in, naked. Your eyes glided along the edges of his body, from his bulging arms to his strong thighs, not shying away from taking in the riveting sight of his dick, making your mouth water.
“Are you going to climb in the shower or are you just going to look at me?” Terry wondered, throwing your own question back at you, smirking.
“You know, if I wasn’t so tired,” you began, taking a step towards him, your hand brushing the hair on his chest. “Oh, I know, darlin’,” he whispered, knowing what you wanted to say without needing you to.
Terry kissed you, before hopping into the shower. He turned the hot water on, the showerhead spewing its warming rain onto him and wetting his auburn curls down to his nape. Then, you stepped in once ridden of your thong, slipping behind him and under the water now pouring hotter on the both of you.
Your husband took your hands in his, sliding your palms around on his stomach. You laid a kiss on his wet skin, making him groan in lulling delight. You cuddled like that for a while, letting the searing water trickle down your bodies, with your forehead tucked against Terry’s broad back. You snuggled into him, arms snaked round his waist, as the day’s fatigue seeped out of you and into the drain.
“Don’t fall asleep now, sweetheart,” Terry murmured to you, his low tone ringing off the tiles of the walls.
You hummed, “I wish I could.”
When he turned around, you whined in frustration at the loss of his body against yours. He chuckled, pinching your cheek with a smile, “You need to wash your hair?”
“Mh, but maybe I’ll do it tomorrow,” you answered with a slow nod. Your head felt thick with the sweat of the day that had greased your hair since this morning, and you knew you would relish the feeling of a fresh head. “‘m too tired to do it now.”
“I’ll wash them for you,” your husband told you, taking your face into the gentle cusp of his hands. He nudged his nose against yours, pecking your lips. “Turn around for me, love.”
You kissed him back, your mouth tiredly yet greedily molding onto his. Terry smirked, his hands on your cheeks tugging you into his face. He gave in, despite his heavy lids and his sore limbs, and dragged his tongue along your bottom lip. A moan tore away from your throat.
Before he could back you against the heated tiles and fall to his knees to hook your leg on his shoulder and eat you out until you begged him to get away from you, Terry ripped his lips off of yours, “Sweetheart, we’re strayin’ away.”
“I know, but you’re just looking too good like that,” you answered, smiling in that way that made your face gleam. “And I didn’t get to kiss you this morning.”
“Oh, you’ll get your kisses,” Terry said, curling a finger under your chin. “But before that, I gotta wash your hair. Or you’ll fall asleep before getting out of this shower. Okay?”
You turned your back to him at least, “I wanna wash yours after.”
“Whatever you want, sugar.”
Terry then took the shampoo from the shelf— the one scented like a lulling cloud of wild berries and rosehip. How he loved that one when he tucked his nose into your hair when going to bed. He popped the cap and poured a dollop in his palm. He then brought his hands to your head and began rubbing the shampoo into slow loops onto your scalp. A sigh ringed in the shower as his thumbs smoothed the ache of the day off, pushing slowly into your skin.
His fingers weaved through your damp, shampooed hair, going from the top of your head to your nape. You leaned into his touch, swaying from foot to foot to keep your fatigue at bay. “You’re good, love?”
“Hmm. Feels so good,” you hummed, “Thank you, darling.”
A smile tugged at his lips, “My pleasure, ma’am.”
Once your shampoo was done, fragrant foam coating your head, Terry grabbed the showerhead from its hold on the wall, and turned the water less hot and more cold before he rinsed out the scented lather off your hair. It trickled down your shoulders and back, flowing over the round swell of your butt and along your legs, before pouring into the drain.
Terry could have thought you had fallen asleep for good on your feet, but you were merely enjoying the touch of his hands and breathing deeply, humming along the flow of the water. He shampooed your hair again, before washing off your head and then grabbed the bottle of that fancy hair mask you loved.
Taking the thick brush you always used to detangle the wet, tiny knots on your head, Terry combed through the strands gently. The smooth, creamy mask had the teeth of the brush slip along, softening the tangles. Then, you asked, “Terry?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“I missed you, today,” you said, your confession ringing low in the shower as you looked over your shoulder to him.
Terry smiled, tenderly gripping your chin in between his thumb and forefinger, before bending down to kiss your lips, “I missed you too, darlin’,” pecking at your mouth and the bow of it. You craned your neck, chasing after him to pepper quick, warm kisses against his own mouth, nipping at his chin with a grin when he quipped, “Aren’t you eager, mh?”
“Always,” you breathed, sliding your hand around his nape of his neck to drag him into you. “Didn’t you say you’d give me my kisses?”
“I sure did, love,” Terry nodded, hot breath prickling upon your wet lips, the water trickling down from his forehead along his cheekbones and nose before dripping onto your mouth.
His body molded against yours, the strong edges of his chest and his stirring cock snuggling into the sensuous slopes of your spine and your buttcheeks. Terry’s fingers sneaked around your waist —brush now left on the shelf—, skimming your stomach before crawling to your breasts as his mouth melted onto yours. You moaned when his rough thumbs brushed the perked peaks of your nipples, and bucked his hips into yours, making you mewl.
Terry's palms fondled your pebbled breasts, softly tweaking their buds in between his fingers, “I’m too tired to fuck now,” you whined, yet pushing your body back against his.
“I know, darlin’. I know. Me too,” he murmured, lips brushing yours. “I just wanna feel you. Wanna feel me, hmm?”
Your hand around his neck weaved through the curls at his nape, fingernails gently scratching and tugging at his scalp. Your husband grinned when you nodded, eyes hooded with yearn, “Yeah. ‘wanna feel you, Terry.”
He then kissed you, languidly ravenous and voracious for the moans crawling up your throat. Fatigue seeped through your bones aching and stinging, but your desire for your husband kindled so hot and so quick in your guts that it swept away the weary wail of your body. Delight trickled into your marrow when Terry tugged and pinched at your perked nipples, making you whine into the crook of his neck.
You bucked your ass back against his hardening dick, the leaking head of him gliding along the swell of your cheeks. He groaned into your hot mouth, tongue dragging messily against yours. Jerking the hand you had in his hair, you yanked his head back so you could etch a furrow of lingering pecks and teasing nips along his throat. A moan rumbled low in your ears, making you legs weak with the tired desire for his cock.
His own hands crawled down, gripping at your hips, thick fingers digging into your skin. Terry dipped in and took your lips. His tongue snaked between them, curling around yours, swallowing the breath from your lungs like a starving man. Grunts and huffs stifled down with lukewarm water pouring onto you from the showerhead weaved around both your mouths.
The weeping, angry head of his dick bumped against the aching lips of your cunt, hugged by the heated meat of your luscious thighs. “I swear I’ll fuck you so good tomorrow,” your husband rasped low, “I’ll fuck you so fuckin’ good before work, so you’ll feel me all day, yeah darlin’? And then I’ll fuck you again to sleep after work.”
“You swear, you say?” you asked, bucking back into him.
Terry groaned, rough fingers sinking deeper into your flesh, “That’s what I said, sweetheart. You’d like that? For me to fuck you to the brim, feelin’ me leakin’ out of that pretty fuckin’ pussy?”
You keened with want when his hand dragged lower, skimming with his fingertips the hair curling and winding around on the mound of your cunt, “Yeah. Yes, I would. I will.”
“That’s my girl,” he praised low, before kissing you, swallowing down your moan.
Your damp, swollen lips melded against his, his warm mouth molding to the shape of yours. A chuckle that morphed into a growl rumbled coarse in his throat when you suckled on his tongue with a grin. Then, you swayed around and gave a teasing slap on his round buttcheek.
“Weren’t you saying we were straying away?” you wondered, a mischievous glint twinkling in your eyes, the warm water trickling down your hair and along your nose to your chin.
“‘m sorry but you’re standin’ naked in front of me, sweetheart,” Terry said, shrugging with his hands landing back on your waist. “You’re too gorgeous for me not to be affected, darlin’.”
Raising a brow, you asked, “Even tired?”
“Oh, even if I was dyin’ and bleedin’ out. My wife’s just too pretty.”
A giggle echoed around, blessing his ears with its sweet sound. You wounded your fingers behind his neck, fingernails finding their way back into the wet curls. “I think we should get back to washing, don’t you? I’d like to go to bed with you and it’s getting late, husband.”
“You’re gonna fall asleep as soon as you touch the pillow, won’t you?” he asked, bringing his palms to your face to rub his thumbs just below your brows, soothing the tiredness from your lids.
You hummed, “Yeah, but I’ve been thinking about it since this afternoon.”
“Thinkin’ about what?”
“Falling asleep with you,” you answered, pecking at his lips, “So, lemme wash your hair. And as soon as we wake up, you’ll get to fuck me. Unless I’m awake before you.”
Terry’s eyes grew darker at the thought, before a frivolous glow swamped over his glance, “I’ve half a mind to pretend to be asleep tomorrow mornin’.”
“As I said, babe. A horndog.”
He chuckled, yet not denying. Oh, he would never deny it, you both knew this. But as much as he was always horny and desirous for you, you were for him. Some days, you could barely keep your hands and mouth from your husband’s body. Not that he ever minded, of course.
With that, Terry rinsed the hair mask from your head, hands weaving through your softened strands and over your scalp. The creamy lather flowed down your calves and into the drain, before you took the bottle of shampoo —yours, since you knew he liked the scent of it— and popped the cap, pouring some into the hollow of your hand.
You went on to wash Terry's hair, the delicious smell of the wild berries and the rosehip wafting around you both as your palms spread and smeared its foam around on his scalp. He bent down a tad, strong shoulders hunching a tad. Your thumbs drew slow, digging loops around the spot behind his ears and the slope of his nape, sliding back to the top of his head. He groaned in bliss, hugging his elbows against his chest as he did.
Shampoo flowed down his neck, along his back and to his knees when you rinsed the scented froth. He then turned to you, “Thank you, sweetheart,” before giving you a lingering kiss.
Terry got the water hotter when you washed your bodies, limbs yet aching from the heat but warmed from the near hour you had stood beneath its rain. He took your konjac sponge from your hands when you reached your back, scrubbing the sweat and the sore feeling away from your skin, before handing it to you again. Soon after, you climbed out of the shower, grabbing your soft towel from the rack.
“Wait,” you said, turning to Terry who was rinsing off the soap foam from his body, gliding down the rough edges of his broad chest and his strong thighs. “What are we gonna eat?”
He looked up from what he was doing, arched brows, “Take out?”
“In bed?” you asked.
“Of course.”
A tired, genuine smile drew its sweet curl upon your lips, “You know I love you terribly, don’t you?”
“Oh, I know, darlin’. Because I love you just as much, if not worse.”
You giggled, stepping back near the ajar shower, rising enough to steal a smooch from Terry’s mouth before heading to the bedroom, towel wrapped around you. You went through your drawer, the strain from the scorching day wrought into your body, and yet almost bouncing on the soles of your feet at the thought of getting into bed with take out, cuddled into your husband’s chest before slipping into a soothing sleep.
And to waken with his mouth behind your legs in the morning.
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