themanip

[themanip]

do you believe me now? | 9

in which we find out how the morning after went for fem!reader. you finally share with spencer after unanticipated anxieties come up. you're continually shocked by his affection for you.

series masterlist

this series is 18+ (angst, fluff) warnings/tags: (preface none of the bad stuff is done by spencer) sexual harassment, slut shaming, non consensual voyeurism of sorts, blood + pain from losing virginity, talk of rape (nothing like that actually happens), implied nonspecific age gap (someone says he looks slightly older than you) non sexual nudity, showering together, intimacy, ewww being in love is embarrassing a/n: I honestly was not gonna post this today but I decided to bc it's just Tumblr its not that deep also you can probably tell I am just creating problems bc I don't wanna let go of them...... ik this is supposed to be a smutty series btw and trust good things come to those who wait!!!but anyways idk what I'm doing and I kinda hate this!! lolol!!!

Friday morning

The air is thick when you wake up—the angle of the sun through the window is lower than usual, and the binding weight of your limbs as you struggle to stretch in place all suggest that you’ve slept in. 

But you don’t check the time quite yet—for a moment, you simply lie there, studying the pattern on your ceiling, downloading the events of the previous night. 

Flashes of skin on skin, lips, breaths, whispers, promises. Phantom sensations. 

Was it even real?

Your apartment is deafeningly silent, you realize. And you have that sinking sense, which you can’t quite explain but know to be true—that you are alone. Spencer is gone. You can’t feel him like you’d be able to if he were simply on the couch or in the kitchen. He’s definitely not in bed with you, and the sheets have long gone cold. 

The truth of it renders about as slowly as your sluggish consciousness does, and you frown, not quite sure what to do with that information. Should you be angry? Should you cry?

Mostly you’re confused. 

As soon as you sit up, sore thighs and abs and a strange ache between your legs confirm that last night was not a dream nor a figment of your imagination. You’ll figure out what to do about your twinging body in a moment—for now you rub your eyes and blindly reach for the bedside table, knocking several things to the ground in your quest for your phone. 

It’s not there, you realize, once you actually try to use your eyes. It’s not in bed with you either as you pat the sheets, and it doesn’t materialize as you sit on your knees and shake out the comforter. 

From this venture, however, you learn two things. First, Spencer must’ve taken it upon himself to get you dressed last night, which you have no recollection of, but you doubt you sleepwalked your way into underwear and a big t-shirt; and second—you bled. 

It wasn’t something you were thinking about in the moment, but now, faced with all the evidence and none of the pleasure of last night’s activities, it’s jarring. A stark, unforgiving archipelago of red on a pristine sea of white. 

People say, at its best, sex brings couples closer. Spencer once told you it could facilitate feelings of deeper connection. But here you are, no longer a virgin, and what do you have to show for it? A stronger bond with your boyfriend? He’s not even here. 

All you have is this glaring red stain marring perfectly good sheets. It mocks you, like something you’ve dropped and can’t pick back up. You can’t think looking at it, and you need to think, and so in a fit of frustration you’re pulling the comforter onto the floor, leaning over your mattress and yanking the fitted sheet free. You ball it up in your hands, breathing heavily—and realize you bled through to the mattress. 

Wonderful. 

Spencer’s just at work, you tell yourself, grabbing the first pair of shorts you see and pulling them on before gathering the ruined sheet once more and stomping on aching legs through your apartment to the hallway, not even bothering with shoes. He can’t just play hooky because his clingy girlfriend lost her virginity and needs to be comforted like some previously celibate high school cheerleader.

But you miss him so much it’s making you angry, so much your eyes are stinging and welling with tears of frustration as you shove your bed linens down the trash chute at the end of your floor’s hallway. You’re supposed to be independent. That’s how you’ve always been. Since when does it bother you to wake up alone? It’s just sex. It’s not as big a deal for him as it is for you. Or for anyone. You’re the one overreacting, you’re the one who expects too much. He works for the FBI, for god’s sake. There are people dying, and here you are—

“What’chya got there?”

The gruff voice makes you jump, and you turn around just as the bundle is disappearing down into the hole in the wall. It’s your neighbor, Jerry—the one in the unit right next to you. You’re not happy to see him, especially like this. He’s got a blue 5 o’clock shadow despite the hour, and is clad in ill-fitting gray sweats and a pair of ratty slippers. His distended belly strains at the confines of an oil-stained white shirt, tied with a dingy checkered robe. You barely meet his drooping eyes before looking longingly back at your cracked door down the hall. 

“Just… garbage.” You shift your weight, hiding a wince as you try to find a comfortable position to stand in. Jerry notices this, and you wish his eyes wouldn’t linger on your bare legs like that. 

“Huh. Looks like someone had a late night.”

“Sorry?”

“It’s just noon and you’re still in your PJ’s.”

Disgusting. And who the fuck is he to judge? At least your pajamas are clean. 

You shrug. “Yeah.”

He scratches his bald head. 

“So that boy tired you out pretty good, huh?”

Your stomach drops. Your brain freezes. 

When you don’t reply, he takes the liberty of continuing on. 

“Saw him sneaking out of your apartment in the middle of the night. He looked a little older ’n you. You like ’em older?” His laugh is a cruel bark. “Yeah… He’s a lucky man. You know, it’s natural for a man to like a younger girl. Fresh meat, ’n all.” You try to speak and can only swallow a gag. Jerry adjusts his stance, hands in pockets like he’s telling you a local news story. “Heard some of it. Sounded like you were putting on quite the show. And sure, a young pretty thing like you? Hell, I would if I could. But I’ll tell you right now, you don’t wanna end up like my daughter. She wasn’t as pretty as you, but still—three kids with three men by the time she was 24. She should'a kept her damn legs closed. You know, she loved to cry rape, but you gotta ask yourself, if your legs are open all the damn time, what do you expect? Back in the day we all knew girls like that—” he bats the air dismissively. “Guess you can’t call ’em sluts anymore—they get what they’re asking for one way or another. See, I think everyone still knows it and they’re just too afraid to say it. So my advice: don’t let yourself get used up, you hear me? Not by men who are gonna ride you hard and put you away wet. So to speak. Men can smell a girl like that from a mile away, and they’ll take it as an open invitation. It’s just human nature.”

When he finally stops talking, the hallway fills with a vacuous silence. It makes your ears ring. Several moments pass, but you’re frozen. Your whole body feels intolerably hot but your blood is freezing. How are you supposed to react? 

“Hello?” He says, voice loud enough to hurt your ears as it echoes. 

Get out of here, your more rational self says to the rest of you, and you mumble something, you don’t even know what, excusing yourself to hurry on stiff legs back down the hall to your door. 

Once inside, you do up every lock on your door, and face your apartment, shoulders tensed practically to your ears and fists clenched so tight your arms are trembling. On autopilot you look around for something to do, but there’s nothing. More importantly, nobody.

I’ll call Spencer. He’ll know what to do. 

No, you won’t, your higher self reminds you. You lost your phone. And besides, it’s clearly not like he wanted to stick around last night. Maybe he doesn’t even like you anymore. 

So you’re stuck here. Stranded. Sharks can smell blood. 

Processing that information, you walk back to your bedroom and close the door behind you—before promptly sinking to the ground and burying your face in the duvet with a deep, silent sob.  

That goes on for a few minutes until you realize you’re too achy and you can’t breathe and you’re forced onto your side, curling up in your blanket on the floor like it’s a nest and not a burial plot. 

You shouldn’t get ahead of yourself. A relationship can’t implode twice in 24 hours.  You don’t have your phone. Maybe he’s texted you. 

But is that really all you’re worth? A text sent after the fact? He couldn’t sacrifice a few hours to sleep by your side? Couldn’t even wake you up to say goodbye? You think about the sweet things he’d said afterward—the way he held you, fingers dancing down your spine. Promises he made when you were half asleep in his arms, so sure he’d be there when you woke up. 

Even fucking Jerry the neighbor—who you think might have just sexually harassed you in the hallway—said Spencer should’ve stuck around. 

Fuck. 

No, don’t think about that. It doesn’t even matter. They were just words. 

Heard some of it. Sounded like you put on quite the show. 

Your skin crawls and your stomach turns as you hold yourself tighter. Something that was supposed to be private and special—and some random man not only had a front row seat to your deflowering but felt comfortable talking about it with you. It feels like a violation. Like he crashed a really important party. If you had known you had an audience last night, you never would’ve done it. 

The way he looked at you, tracing your legs with his eyes like he was touching you—

You scramble up from the floor and walk heavily on your knees to the dresser, digging up a pair of pajama pants and a hoodie. You should be showering, but you don’t want to deal with your body right now. You just want to hide. 

Friday evening—present

After your conversation, Spencer seems eager to make sure the car ride to his apartment is not reminiscent of the car ride to yours last night—he holds your hand, resting in your lap, bringing your knuckles to his lips at a red light. Every few moments he glances over at you, maybe to appreciate the view (though you doubt it’s especially scenic at the moment) or perhaps to gauge your mood. The further away you get from your apartment building the better you feel, and you try to focus on that. Sure—maybe you had a shit day, but Spencer’s here now, and he didn’t leave you after all. In fact, since finding your phone, you’ve seen the series of very sweet and highly concerned messages he sent over the course of a few hours. They almost make your stomach hurt. It would’ve been really nice to have those earlier. 

He doesn’t ask you any more of the hard questions, but you sense an inquisition in the works and getting closer with every curious glance he gives you. It’s like he’s unwrapping you, layer by layer, using his impressive cognitive faculties to drill through your skull into your brain and deeper still into your soul. 

Back in his apartment you sit awkwardly on the bed. Last time you’d been here, things hadn’t gone so well for you. 

The shower starts in the adjoined bathroom, and Spencer comes out a moment later, warm light seeping into the darkened bedroom. Purple and dark blue mixing with yellow, like a bruise. 

“Hey. Water’s warm.”

You hum, smoothing the material of his neatly made bed with your palm and watching the way it flattens. That had been your doing. You may have thought he was on the verge of breaking up with you last time you slept here, but you didn’t want to leave his home a mess. Didn’t want to leave any evidence of your having been here. 

A moment passes. You thumb at a thread and don’t look up. 

Spencer crosses the space without a word and crouches in front of you, hands coming up to cup the back of your legs, running knee to ankle and up again. 

“Can you tell me what’s going on? Please?” He asks softly. His voice wrings your heart out. Now that you’re in a completely different space, and you’re not so alone anymore, you’re struggling to sort out your feelings. It should be fine. You’re with Spencer. Presumably he still loves you. 

And you still feel terrible. 

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” you whisper. 

“I know,” he says, just as quietly. 

Spencer doesn’t say anything else. I know you don’t want to—and yet. Your lips twist to the side. He’s persistent. Even in his kindness. It’s not the kind of care that falters or buckles when you try turning it away. 

“My neighbor said he c—” 

You’re forced to stop, frowning by how overcome you are. It shouldn’t be such a big deal. Worse things have happened to you. 

“He said he could hear us. Last night.”

Spencer’s hands stop on your legs. You can’t meet his eyes. You’re afraid whatever you find there won’t be the right thing. 

“He’s in the unit next to you?”

You nod. “We share a wall.”

There’s a moment’s hesitation and your stomach sinks. He doesn’t understand. 

“What did he say?”

“Just… dumb shit,” you scoff, fiercely wiping away a stray tear. “He said he listened and it sounded like I was putting on quite the show. And then he—and then he told me not to let you… use me up, whatever that means. He called me fresh meat, and said I shouldn’t let you ride me hard and put me away wet, and bad things happen to sluts who can’t keep their legs closed.”

You finish with a sharp inhale, briefly leaning down and covering your face with your hands when you realize how upset you really are. You want to hide it. 

A fraught moment passes. Spencer reaches for your hands, no doubt to try and pull them away from your face. You spare him the trouble, sitting up with a cavalier sniff before he can touch you and brushing your hair behind your ears.  

His voice is uncomfortably quiet. You can’t look at him. “Baby…”

“Don’t. It’s fine. I only told you because you asked.”

It’s not his fault, but you’re mad at him anyway, and so you avoid eye-contact like it’s the plague. Maybe it’s just safe to be mad at him. Maybe he knows that. 

Regardless, you’re not in the mood for coddling. It’s borderline repulsive—like trying to mix oil and water. Anything good slides right off of you because maybe you’re not designed to be able to absorb good things.

Nothing changes for a minute—and then he’s standing, offering you a moment alone as he goes to crank the shower off. 

As soon as he’s gone all the air is vacuumed from your lungs and you crumple, heaving it back in silently as your head spins and your heart races. It’s like your mind is split in two—half is primal, overwhelming panic, and the other a cold observatory eye, full of disdain and scorn for what it deems a severe overreaction to a few nasty comments made hours ago. You’re so tangled up as you curl in on yourself on your side that you can’t even cry. You’re just trying to remember how to breathe, ignoring the crawling feeling up your spine and the tingling heat at the back of your neck. The shower stops on the downbeat of your staggered breath, and then it’s silent. He’ll come back at any minute and see what a mess you’ve become. 

You’ve ruined everything. If only you could’ve kept it to yourself. 

When Spencer reappears in the doorway, and sees you collapsed and curling like paper burnt at the edges, he’s quick to return to you. 

“I’m sorry,” you manage, trying and failing to brush away hair from your cheek, which is wet—so you were crying—and Spencer shushes you, pushing it away for you as he kneels. 

“Why are you apologizing?”

“I’m being dramatic, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Of course, at the end of that declaration, a sob wrenches its way from the depths of you, so bright and cleaving you half expect the smell of ozone to follow. You follow it with a blisteringly self-deprecating laugh.

“Don’t—don’t do that. Don’t minimize it.”

His hand is warm where it rests over your cheek, affectionate, but he sounds frustrated. You frown and sniffle. 

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Tell me his name.” 

It’s a quiet request, made as gently as his hand cards through the hair at your temple like it’s woven with fragile threads of gold.

“No, Spencer,” you beg, anxiety pooling in your gut and rising in your throat, “please, I don’t want to make it a thing, I don’t want you to talk to him. You’ll just make it worse, it’s fine.”

You look at him imploringly, eyes wide and still welling, hoping to god the gravity of your plead will sink in. His are a bed of coals—somewhere between furious and sympathetic, and you try to appeal to the sympathy. 

“It is not fine. Saying sluts get what’s coming to them is not fine, that is a threat, and I’m not going to talk to him. I’m going to have him fucking arrested.”

You scoff. 

“For talking to me? Yeah, good luck with that. Cops are really known for being helpful when it comes to sexual harassment.”

“Baby. Men who are comfortable violating your boundaries like that are exponentially more likely to commit an actual violent crime. That is not a safe person for you to be around.”

“He’s not gonna rape me, Spencer! He’s just a gross old man! This is why I didn’t want to tell you, because I knew you’d make it a bigger deal than it is! You did it last night and you’re doing it now—you think everyone is out to get me!”

To his credit, he doesn’t so much as raise his voice. 

“Of course it’s a big deal. You’re upset.”

“Yeah, well, it’s my own fault.”

Maybe it’s the wrong thing to say. Spencer goes silent for a moment. 

“It’s your fault?”

“Yes. It’s my fault because… because now everyone knows that I’m…”

His voice goes impossibly soft again. “Knows that you’re what?”

“I mean, what did I expect?” You sniffle. “It’s an apartment. If I didn’t want to deal with the consequences, I shouldn’t’ve done it.”

He says your name like it’s a ring he twists around his finger as he tries to think—to gather the right words. 

“The consequences for having sex do not involve punishment or sexual harassment.”

“It’s the result of my actions, so—”

“No, it’s the result of your neighbor being disgusting. I don’t care what he heard, he doesn’t get to talk to you like that.”

“He—”

“If you heard something you weren’t supposed to hear would you bring it up to the person the next day?”

“Stop interrupting me,” you plead. Spencer looks like he has something to say to that, too, but he swallows it. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “I… understand that he shouldn’t have said those things to me. But that doesn’t change the fact that he did, and it was really, really uncomfortable and I don’t wanna—I don’t wanna go back now. Maybe that’s dramatic, but…”

You trail off, studying the ceiling as a fresh wash of tears dampen your cheeks. Spencer’s hand slides down your waist as you wipe your face. “I don’t regret the fact that we slept together. I just regret everything that’s happened since, and if I didn’t do it last night, none of this would’ve happened. I feel like he ruined everything.”

The words end on another cry and you put your hand over your eyes like you could stop it all from coming out. You sniffle. Spencer is quiet for a moment. 

“I’m sorry,” he eventually whispers, his own voice threaded with emotion. “I…”

He sighs. You push your hair back and look at him. 

“What?”

He studies you, chewing on his lip like a nervous tick you’ve never seen before. You sit up again, feet balanced on the edge of the bed frame. Spencer’s eyes remain stuck on you. Again, you ask, “What?”

“I didn’t think about it until you brought it up earlier, but—I did see someone. Him, I think, when I went out to my car to get my bag. He was smoking when I came out, and when I got back into the lobby he was waiting for the elevator. We took it up together, he—he said something to me, so I know he saw me going back to you. I don’t know why he made it sound like I left.”

You frown. “What did he say?”

Spencer hesitates. 

“He asked if I had a long night. He was obviously commenting on the fact that I was basically half-dressed and getting an overnight bag from my car at one in the morning, so he could probably gather from context what was going on, but… my point is, he knew I came back and it seems like he was almost trying to make you think I didn’t. So for whatever reason, maybe he was lying about being able to hear you, too. Maybe he just wanted to make you uncomfortable.”

“That’s a long shot, Spencer.”

“I know, but… it’s not that long. He obviously gets off on it—and besides, he said you were putting on a show, but you weren’t… you weren’t loud, last night.”

Heats blossoms in your cheeks and you look down at your lap. “Thin walls.”

“Have you ever heard your neighbors before?”

You have to seriously think about it. 

“I’ve heard them yelling…”

“Nothing else?”

Again, you consider it. The answer comes as a surprise. 

“No.”

“Okay, so… does that maybe help a little bit? I really, really don’t want you to feel like last night was a mistake in any way, or let anyone ruin it for you.”

You breathe deeply. “I know. It… it kinda helps, yeah.”

His hands come to the top of your legs. There’s so much genuine care and concern in his eyes. “Yeah?”

Only when you nod does he relax some. His hands skim your thighs, and you set yours on top of his own. For a few breaths, it’s quiet. And then you laugh. 

“What?” Spencer asks, a tentative smile curling his own lips like he doesn’t know if he should be concerned or participate in your mirth. 

“I—I don’t know how to say it without being cheesy,” you admit, sniffling the last of your tears away and smiling softly down at him. 

“I think you should say it.”

You link your fingers with his on your lap, watching the way they twine like it’s what they were meant to do. 

“I was just thinking about how I had, like, the worst day ever. And how much worse it would’ve gotten if you didn’t show up when you did—I would’ve completely spiraled. But you did show up. And how easy it is to kind of compartmentalize, because I have you, and when I’m with you… nothing feels as hard. You make the bad things feel smaller, I guess.”

By the end, it got a lot more real than you’d intended, and your face feels warm, and your stomach is sort of floaty—but you don’t look away from Spencer. You hold his gaze, though it makes you a little nervous, because you want him to know you mean it. 

He inhales, like he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t—only looks at you, like you’re beautiful and impossible and a defiance of everything he thought he knew, which was almost everything. To him, you’re expansive. A gorgeous anomaly.

And then he stands, holding his hands out for you. Without question you take them, and he pulls you to your feet, absorbing the momentum that threatens to topple you, and he wraps his arms around you tightly. So tight you have to laugh. 

“I love you,” he says against your shoulder, one hand coming to cradle the back of your head. 

Your humor softens, but doesn’t become inflexible—still tinges your words with the perfect amount of euphoria and relief. “I love you.”

“Thanks,” he mumbles, and your laughter flares again. 

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“But I’m grateful. I… I feel lucky.”

Always so earnest, so vulnerable, when you’re least expecting it—which should be always, you’re learning. You pull back to look up at him. You don’t want that concession to go unrewarded. 

“Me too,” you say softly. He’s doing that fond thing with his eyes, where they’re all soft and it’s like he’s trying to take in every millimeter of your face. This time when he goes to touch your hair, you have the wherewithal to dodge it. 

“You’re really brave for trying to touch my hair right now.”

“Why?” He asks, utterly bewildered, and the softness of the moment falls away easily, but not without leaving everything smudged and fuzzy around the edges. Everything is still okay. It’s still good. 

“Because it’s dirty,” you laugh, dodging him again and eventually ducking from the circle of his arms entirely. 

“Oh, your hair is dirty? Should we breakup?”

“Hm. I don’t really like when you take on that tone with me.” You’re still half-laughing, dipping and weaving past him toward the bathroom as he tries to get you in his arms again. And then you stop, toes just short of the tile. 

“What is it?” He asks after another moment. You blink, looking at the shower head as it drips. 

“Um—would it be okay if I had a five minute headstart in the shower?”

“Sure. Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine. I just… I need a minute.”

His hand skims your waist as he passes by you through the open door. “Okay. Why don’t you grab your stuff and I’ll get the water going again?”

Soon enough, you’re remembering how much better his water pressure is than yours as you stand under the torrent, eyes closed as if in prayer. You definitely could’ve stood to shower earlier in the day. But you had other concerns, earlier, and besides—you were afraid of what you might find. 

And you were right to be. The sex was nice. The aftermath isn’t quite as pretty. 

When Spencer taps on the bathroom door, you’re nervous. 

“You can come in,” you call. 

“You sure? If you want it all to yourself, that’s okay too.”

“No, no. It’s fine.”

The door creaks open, and gently clicks into place again, and fabric rustles as he undresses, and soon the shower curtain is sliding aside and he’s stepping in. Unsurprisingly, the space feels smaller with him in it—but not small in a bad way. It feels warmer. Again you’re awash in that safe feeling, which you didn’t realize you’d been missing so much today. 

“Hi,” he smiles, a teasing sliver of what you know to be the most brilliant light in the world, and stunning like the rest of him as you watch the water begin to darken his hair. 

“Hello.”

His smile flickers briefly wider like you’re his favorite thing and he just can’t contain his joy, and then it’s easing again, giving you a moment to catch your breath. 

“Is it okay if I touch you?”

In this alien context the idea has your heart pounding—you don’t really understand the concept of casual nudity yet, but you know he’ll respect your earlier wishes to keep it chaste and so you nod. 

Spencer doesn’t take you immediately in his arms like you’d expected—instead his hands find a rest at your collarbones and carefully push your wet hair back over your shoulders—but his eyes aren’t cast quite low enough to be indecent. They connect dots over your chest and neck, and he thumbs at one just over your pulse point. 

“Oh, man,” he laughs, and you think you detect a hint of self-deprecation. “That’s… wow, I didn’t realize I… sorry. They don’t hurt, do they?”

It’s your turn to smile as he’s suddenly over-concerned. 

“No, they don’t hurt.”

“Good.” He looks relieved, but it doesn’t last as his eyes trace lower—though you don’t sense any hunger in it. He’s just taking you in. “How about everywhere else?”

“Um… it’s not bad. Kind of, like… I don’t know. Sore. But it’s not bad.”

“Still?” He frowns, clearly unfazed by your evident embarrassment on the subject. You shrug and avert your eyes. 

“It’s fine. it was worse earlier, so.”

That does not have the calming effect you’d intended. 

“Worse? 1-10, how—”

“Spencer, it’s fine, I promise. It’s only when I—when I move certain ways, I notice. Honestly the… blood… was way more disconcerting to me.”

“Yeah, I saw your bed… sorry for ruining your sheets. I’ll buy you new ones.”

You shrug, watching the water run in rivulets down your arm and branch off into tributaries and waterfalls from your fingers. “You don’t have to do that. It was a collaborative effort.”

Normally this conversation would have you melting into an embarrassed puddle, but something about the tile cocoon of the shower, the humid fog, the proximity, feels safe. The white noise of water on porcelain, the warmth. You go to him at the same time as he comes to you—his arms around your waist, yours slung over his shoulders. Your eyes flutter shut. Falling asleep standing up has never seemed so plausible until now. 

He presses a kiss to your head. You sigh. 

“Ugh. I don’t want to deal with washing my hair.”

“I can do it,” Spencer immediately offers. You frown. 

“I was—you don’t have to. I didn’t mean to make it sound like I was asking.”

“I know you didn’t.”

“It’s a process.”

“I understand.”

“You would have to do it exactly how I say.”

“I am willing to learn. I like taking care of you.”

You’re glad for the hot water, then, and as he washes your hair. You’re not sure if you’re crying at the tenderness of his touch, or the way he loves you like you’re easy to love. You’re too tired to explain it. 

He doesn’t push you, because he never pushes you. 

He just washes your hair. 

[themanip]

this beautiful list can be used to send in requests!!

PROMPTS OF ALL PROMPTS

I would definitely make intense smut prompts later! For now I hope you enjoy these fluff angst prompts instead! Requests are always opened!

For others that want to use these prompts! You're free to do so! Just tag me no need to credit. I would love to read it and see what you came up with! -- FLUFF PROMPTS 

“Can you hug me”

“My teammates gets annoyed because I talk about you 24/7”

“Can we have a date night tonight?”

“Do you know you're pretty” 

“Why are you being a pain?” 

“Stop simping for me you simp” 

“Your blushing you idiot” 

“Are you kidding me? I love cuddles” 

“Your hair smells good.” 

“I just want to lay here all day” 

“Can you wash my hair for me?” 

“I really need you right now”

“I like you.. well no… I love you” 

“I love your smile” 

“You sent me inappropriate pictures. When I was out in public” 

“Why are you so clingy?” 

“Fine. We can stay home tonight” 

“Dance with me in the rain” 

“Let’s jump in the puddles!” 

“Can I sit on your lap?” 

“Kiss me please!” 

“Can you rub my arm in circles?” 

“I’m wearing your shirt if that’s fine!” 

“This still smells like you” (long distant or for breakups) 

“Your mom gave me pictures of you when you were a baby.” 

“Stop you’re making me blush in public” 

“Don’t… I’m ticklish —“ 

“I can’t sleep can I stay here”

“I had a nightmare…”

“I care about you”

“You mean everything to me”

“You make me feel like I’m at home every time”

“Can I give you a hug? You look like you need one”

“Stop denying it! You need sleep”

“You’re so adorable.”

“You make me so happy.”

“I need pads”

“I don’t ever want to lose you”

“I feel better now that you’re here with me”

“It’s like we are meant to be”

“I’m not going anywhere”

“I feel safe when I’m with you”

“I can’t reach the top shelf.. Can you help?”

“Here take my jacket.”

“I just started my period…”

 “I’m right here baby, it’s okay”

“I’m so in love with you.”

“I’m never leaving you.”

“You're mine forever.”

“Should we make it official?”

BEACH PROMPTS

“Can you do my sunscreen?” 

“Why is your massages better than you scratching my back” 

“Please come in the water” 

“Stop it’s cold!” 

“I'm going to splash you!” 

“My sandcastle is better than yours” 

“I won!”

“Don’t throw me in the water!!!”

“I’m trying to tan”

“Stand in front of me you block the sun”

“Can you give me a piggyback”

“The sand is hot” 

“Come with me on the floatie!”

“Can you set up the umbrella?”

WINTER PROMPTS

“it’s snowing!” 

“We are locked in…”

“Let’s look at the stars through the window”

“Can we bake gingerbread cookies”

“You got frosting on your face”

“It’s so cold..”

“I love hot coco.”

“Look! I caught a snowflake in my mouth!”

“You got snow in your hair!”

“My snowman is better!”

“Whoever gets to the bottom of the hill first wins!”

“It’s freezing, could you turn on the heat?”

“Snowball fight!!!”

“I got snow in my boots, now my feet are cold.”

“Dw! I’ll warm you up!”

“Let’s build a fort!”

“This is the perfect time to set up the Christmas tree!”

“Ooh! I love sledding!”

“Woo! That was sooo fun!”

“Here! I made this one just for you!”

“You have such good decorating skills!”

SUMMER/CAMPING PROMPTS

“It’s so hot!”

“Can I borrow your hat please?”

“May you buy me a slushie? I forgot my wallet”

“The mosquitoes are killing me”

“Here let me spray you”

“Let’s go on a hike!”

“The sun is so bright.”

“Did you forget the sunscreen.”

“Baby, can you get my backside please?”

“I want to go swimming.”

“Can we just stay inside!”

“This is the perfect spot to set up our campsite.”

“I got the marshmallows!”

“I’ll help you set up the tent. But.. I don’t know how.”

“I’m already tired.”

“Let's roast marshmallows!”

“I made a smore just for you!”

“We can share.”

“Come swimming with me!”

“The water is sooo warm.”

“I rented a boat. You know how to drive it right..?”

“Don’t worry, of course I got the beer.”

“I love summer parties.”

“No… I didn’t steal your towel… Ok fine I did”

“Put me down – Ok ok fine fine! You win.”

“Can we go on a road trip?”

“You pushed me into the water, you jerk!”

“I couldn’t help myself… All the ice-cream flavours looked so good!”

“I didn’t buy any more ice cream.. The receipts are lies!!!!”

“Can we stay longer!!”

ANGST/ARGUMENT/BREAKUP PROMPTS

“You promised me.”

“You lied. You said you would never leave me.”

“Don’t lie to me. I know everything”

“Please don’t do this.”

“I loved you.”

“Why don’t you trust me”

“This can’t be goodbye.”

“Please don’t walk out.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“I don’t love you.”

“We were never meant to be.”

“I just wanted to be enough for you.”

“I don’t forgive you.”

“Stop saying sorry! It’s always ‘I’m sorry’. When you really aren’t”

“If you’re sorry, why did you leave me?”

“You thought I was dumb.”

“I know you’re lying.”

“Why did I fall in love with you.”

“I’m so stupid to think we had something.”

“You never cared about me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop being selfish.”

“I moved on.”

“You cheated on me.”

“This isn’t working…”

“No. We can’t… we are too toxic for each other.”

“Why me..”

“Us? There was never an ‘us’.”

“I’m done.”

“It’s better if we just stop seeing each other.”

“I can’t love you.”

“You broke my heart so carelessly. Now you want forgiveness?”

“You don’t deserve me.”

“Leave me alone.”

“Your always mad at me.”

“What do you want? Because I could care less.”

“I was such a fool.”

“You talked to her and then lied about it.”

“You told people that you were single…”

“I thought you loved me..”

“How could you…”

“That’s not going to happen. I already told you.”

“What's wrong with you seriously?”

“You lost me”

“Where’s your new gf/bf?”

“Shouldn’t you be with your new gf/bf”

“I thought things were going amazing”

“I thought wrong…”

“This is goodbye.”

“Don’t you love me?”

“I can’t live without you.’

“What did you expect me to say?”

“Our relationship is in the past. I’m sorry.”

“I like someone else.”

“This will be the last time you lie to me.”

“How did you think this wouldn’t hurt me?”

“I think it’s best if we don’t meet again.”

“You didn’t love me, did you?”

“I hope you're happier.”

“At least you got what you wanted”

“I was miserable and I still loved you.”

“Stop pretending. You wanted me like this… You wanted me broken and you got what you wanted.”

“We can’t keep talking. This isn’t healthy.”

“It’s best if we stop talking… like forever.”

“You're not the same person I fell in love with.”

“You don’t own me.”

“You act like everything is fine when it’s not!”

“Can we not argue for once.”

“Not now. Not even in a million years. I would ever think to give you another chance.”

“I fell for your lies again, and now I’m not anymore.”

“I was nothing to you. I was only a toy for you to manipulate and I fell for it.”

“Why wouldn’t you admit to everything! This was all your fault.”

“I hate you.”

“I despise you.”

“You were my ride or die.”

“I don’t fall in love. I don’t want to be loved or love someone else.”

“If I leave you know you would never see me again.”

“I deserve better.”

“You were my first and would be my last.”

“Don’t – Don’t make me fall in love again.”

“You know we can’t..”

“I know this is random and we haven’t talked in awhile.. But can you stay with me one more night and just forget about everything.”

“It was indeed. The wrong place the wrong time”

“Good for you!”

“Why can’t you be happy for me for once?”

“We shouldn’t be together anymore. I’m supposed to hate you.”

“How could I be so oblivious..”

“Why did I even think I could be enough for you.”

“I needed to hold you once more.”

“I don’t understand.. Wha- what are you saying..”

“I don’t want to say something I’ll regret later.”

“Don’t bother to call me when you need something later.”

“I didn’t mean to. I was just mad..”

“Please forgive me.”

“Why are you suddenly coming back into my life after I just started to do good.”

“Do you not understand the words ‘I’m done’.”

“Haha! You think I love you? That’s pathetic.”

FICS/STORY IDEAS

Here’s some storyline ideas. You can decide if you want it angst or fluff or whatever! I don’t mind if you take this ideas. You don’t need to credit just a tag, so I could read it! Would be great!

All the promises were already broken. 

Just one more night with no feelings, nothing. After that we forget.

Reader finds out their relationship was nothing, but a lie.

He wanted her back. She moved on. 

Even after breaking up. They still find ways back to each other.

He manipulated her and she fell for it.

They are toxic for each other. But always end up in bed with each other.

He wanted her back but she isn’t giving him another chance.

He left her and she still wanted him back.

They were never meant to be and they knew that. They just can’t let each other go.

She just wanted to be enough for him, but he didn’t care.

He cheated and she found out. Now he realized he can’t live without her.

He didn’t deserve her. But her love for him is stronger.

They thought they had something. But then decided it was best if they stopped seeing each other.

She always forgave him, but this time she didn’t.

How could you be in love with someone who is always mad at you. She knew it was best if she just left. But after everything they've been through it wasn’t going to be easy.

She couldn’t love him as much as she wanted to. It was forbidden to sleep with someone you worked for. But she couldn’t help but ignore the rule.

He was such a fool for letting her into his life. But maybe it was the best thing to happen to him.

They broke up, but they can’t live without each other.

Their relationship was fragments of the past, but deep down their love was still stronger than ever. What happens when they meet again?

She thought things were going amazing. Well she thought wrong.

He got what he wanted and he was happy. Meanwhile she was still broken and miserable.

Their relationship was amazing at the start. But over time the person that she fell in love with wasn’t the same.

After years of talking. They decided it was best if they stopped. Maybe it actually didn’t stop in the end.

He didn’t listen and thought everything was fine. She knew everything wasn’t fine and just wanted him to listen.

She despised him. He was arrogant and only cared about himself. That was until he gave her a ride home.

She didn’t want to fall in love with him again until his touch made her do the one thing she didn’t want to do ‘fall in love again’.

They stopped talking, but he called her wanting just one more night to forget about everything.

No denying they loved each other. But this was their third breakup. It was just best if she left for good.

He was her first love and would be her last. (either she could meet someone else or something!)

He didn't care about any girls and most importantly. He didn’t fall in love. That was until he saw her and his whole life changed.

She knew he was pretending and she wasn’t falling for it.

After years of dating they finally said the 3 words. ‘I love you’

Maybe being snowed in wasn’t so bad after all.

He didn’t seem to understand the words ‘I’m done.’ If they were done, why was she in his bed again.

After years of apologizing. Apology accepted.

After she said don’t ‘bother calling when you need something’. Turns out it was her in the end calling for something.

Maybe jealousy is something that can reunite the flame that was lost.

He was jealous and she didn’t care.

She didn’t trust him. Until one night when drinks got the best of her, and waking up on his couch realized how wrong she was.

She thought he didn’t love her. Until he showed her how much he did.

He didn’t understand that she was breaking up with him. She wanted so badly to say no. But her desires got the best of her.

[themanip]

just a reminder, one-shot requests are open!

criminal minds, supernatural, stray kids, bts, greys anatomy, 911, and markiplier, boy/girl meets world are some that i write! you can request anything, and if i have seen/know enough i can write something!

open to pretty much every type of smut except water/scat play, cheating (voyeurism or threesomes don’t count in that category) and anything regarding children bc wtf is wrong w you.

huge fluff lover so send those in too, even if it’s a mix of smut and fluff. angst too. i love all the feels in one.

i am a white woman so requests of other races/genders are totally open, but bear with me because i only have my experience to write off of!! tips are appreciated always

i need some NASTY stuff to write when i’m bored so please send requests in🙄

[themanip]

𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐤 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 — 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

EPILOGUE PAIRING — aaron hotchner x oc WORD COUNT — 900 WARNINGS — talk of bdsm, sexual themes, etc. NOTES — this whole story, imagine S1 hotch and s3-4 prentiss.

"Do women give better head than men do?"

Emily couldn't help but giggle at the question. Her fingers gently ran over the fabric of a shirt she was looking at, her eyes now staring at her friend.

"Are you thinking you want to change your trajectory to women?"

The department store music lulled over their heads, and they were both trying to pick out some new clothes for the fall. Maggie was looking more towards the jeans and skirts, since she could be more lenient with her professional clothing.

Emily, however, had to be pretty professional. All FBI agent stuff, she had to pick out dress pants and button up shirts. That had nothing to do with their current conversation though, more focused on sex than clothes.

"I like women, Emily. I just have a preference towards men. Lately, though, they've been pretty disappointing."

Emily scoffed, taking a shirt off the rack and holding it to her chest. Maggie eyed it up and down, and nodded approvingly. "There isn't a single color that looks bad on you, and it kind of pisses me off," Maggie sighed, shaking her head at the brunette. The striking red tone of the long sleeve, curving neckline was definitely a keeper.

Emily laid it over her arm, starting her pile for the night. "Thank you," she laughed. "But seriously, what's tugging your sleeve to ask about sex?"

Maggie sighed, looking at the long skirts in admiration. Her eyes trailed, and she eyed a yellow one, a beautiful golden tone that flared at the bottom. "I need more. I have had two situationships as an adult, and," she whispered the next part with a dramatic face, "neither could make me finish."

"That is a sad, sad life."

"Yeah, imagine having to live it."

They wandered off into other conversations, before they also wandered off to a Spencer's, the store. With bags in hand, Maggie had gotten a few jumpsuits and skirts, some short ones which she could wear outside of work and some that she could wear for work. Emily had only gotten two shirts, for the purpose of going on this trip. Truthfully, she didn't need any clothes but really wanted to hangout with her friend. They had missed each other.

As they neared the back of the store, they hit the sex toy section. Emily and Maggie were no strangers to sex, even telling each other about their masturbation habits, and their sexual partners.

Looking at a dragon dildo, Emily pointed to it with an impressed look on her face. "I'm into a lot of weird shit, but that seems like a little much," Maggie laughed, and Emily raised her eyebrows.

"You've always made it seem like you were vanilla, what kind of kinky shit are you into, Mags?"

Emily was not going to be the first to reveal her cards. She told her friend a lot, but nothing to the likes of her true sex life. Her intense need to dominate, her love for submissive women. She loved Maggie, but she was afraid that she would place judgement.

"I think I figured it out, why none of my flings could never get me all the way there. I think it's the pain, like masochism? Obviously not domestic abuse, but I wouldn't mind a belt or someones hands around my throat, you know?"

After a second of silence followed because Emily was a little dumbfounded, Maggie glanced at a pair of furry handcuffs. "Are handcuffs ruined for you because of your job?"

Emily laughed, nodding. "Yeah, but other forms of restraint are a thing. Handcuffs aren't end all be all."

Maggie's fingers twiddled with a pair of nipple clamps, and she raised her eyebrows at Emily. "They're pretty nice, I've used them before. But God, if you're getting any sex toys please don't get them from here." Emily knew a better place.

"What about you, Em? Are you more vanilla?"

Emily chuckled, and realized that Maggie was probably a little more open-minded than she'd give her credit for. Emily decided that once they were in a private place, she would entail exactly the things she'd been keeping from her.

"Wait, how did you get into this?"

They sat in Maggie's car, the sky now almost setting, and Emily had done a LOT of explaining. She'd explained that her own "fling" was actually her submissive, and that's why she was so shy and secretive about it.

"I did a lot of digging online, trying to find people who had similar interests. I found a few groups, and I got in touch with someone who was a manager of a BDSM 'club'. From there, I just kept meeting people and started really enveloping myself in the community."

Maggie nodded, mesmerized. "So, is this club only for dominants?"

"No, it's for anyone. Everyone has to have someone to vouch for them, though. You can't just walk in, and you go through a bunch of testing and background checks. It's pretty serious shit, and you have to sign an NDA."

"Would you..." she stopped her words slowly, "vouch for me?"

Emily took a deep breath in, and looked at her friend. She was not one to socialize, or ask for favors. She's not irresponsible, nor a person to take advantage of something like this. Emily thought for a second, "Are you serious about this?"

"Very much."

[themanip]

no other words, my work here is done 🤭🤩<3

[themanip]

𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 ↝ 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

GENRE — romance, fluff, smut PAIRING — hotchner x afab!reader WORD COUNT — 5.4k+ WARNINGS — unprotected sex, softdom!hotch, lots of aftercare, breathplay, oral (m&f), spanking (use of belt), vv respectful!hotch, loss of virginity, degrading names, daddy kink if you squint, p in v, discussion of safeword, lots of communication, hair pulling, cuddling, all the cute stuff, time jumps!

Aaron Hotchner was an honest man, and often a quiet one. Until you two finally got comfortable together, which was around the two month mark of dating. He was, of course, open with you before that. It just wasn't him, and he was nervous to open himself up like that.

He was nervous about a lot of things, but you would sheepishly insist that he just own up to it. The blushes his cheeks would light up with made your stomach fill with butterflies, and left a slight smile on your face. He was hot in every way possible, but looking at him right now, he was the most adorable man you'd ever seen.

"That was a pretty blunt question," he laughed out, leaning back against the couch.

Moments before, you had asked him when was an appropriate time for you two to have sex. "Do you mean like during the day or in the context of our relationship?" This made you laugh lightly as well.

You two were cuddled on his couch, and thankfully alone for the night as Jack was at a sleepover. Your hand was on his knee, and his slung over your back as you were cuddling. "I mean, in general... I think."

Aaron nodded, before you got nervous and kind of rambled. "Although don't most people have sex at night? I've heard people who have sex a lot kind of do it whenever, wherever, though. So I'm not sure I'd ever ask the other version of that question."

At this point, a smile held on his face as he turned his head towards you. This conversation clearly made you nervous, and he didn't want you to be. However, that didn't mean you being flustered wasn't super adorable.

His once still hand rubbed your back soothingly, and your eyes now searched his beautiful brown ones. "Well," he sighed, and your heart beat into your chest. "I suppose it's whenever you are comfortable enough and want to do it, there is no timeline. Some people have one-night stands that turn into relationships, and some people wait for marriage."

You nodded gently, and laying your head back onto his chest, getting closure to your question. "And when you're comfortable too, not just me," you mumbled into his chest.

"Sweetheart, I have trusted you and been comfortable enough with you for a bit now," his thumb was now swiping across your back more consistently, with a little more pressure. He was worried this statement would make you feel forced to do something, so he very quickly added in:

"However, we are in no rush. I love spending time with you, and learning everything about you. Getting to know your body and the pleasure portion of our relationship is in absolutely no rush, sweetheart. Please do not feel any pressure when I say that I am comfortable. We take this at your pace, no questions asked."

Your entire face was now dug into his chest, burning red. Not able to help yourself, you let out little giggles, taking the one hand not on his knee and holding it over your mouth.

"Here I am being all lovey-dovey and you're giggling," he laughed, kissing your forehead. "I'm sorry," you pushed out, with giggles taking over your whole body. "You're just so cute."

"Also, questions are important. I have to know what you like," you finished giggling and continued speaking, adjusting yourself to wrap your arms around his abdomen. "Do you mean what I like sexually? Or like my favorite color?"

"Your favorite color is emerald green, anyone could ask me that and I'd answer it no problem. Now if someone asked whether you're dominant in bed, I haven't got a clue."

Oh.

Oh..

"Do you want to talk about this? We can have a serious conversation about sex, if it's something you're comfortable with."

Your thighs were burning from rubbing them together so much, but the blanket over your lap was hiding that from Aaron. "Honestly, it's been on my mind a lot,"

"The conversation, I mean, not like, jumping your bones." you continued.

A smirk covered Aaron's face, and his fingers stopped rubbing your back. "So you're telling me you don't want to have sex? Or haven't thought about it?" he had such a shit eating grin on his face, and you could tell by his tone.

"Aaron, if you ever want to get in my pants you better take that shit-eating-grin off your face," you laughed, looking up at him.

A pause went by, and as you locked eyes, he leaned down gently and placed a kiss to your lips. It was a simple peck, but assurance that he was going at your speed.

"Okay, I'll go first. In my previous relationships, I was always pretty dominant, but it was mostly vanilla, casual, missionary. When I have stressful days, I definitely tend to be rougher. That doesn't mean I will, and if you need me to be gentle, I will absolutely oblige. I just notice my own habits if there is no preference given. I'm down to try pretty much anything except watersports or scat play, but I'm pretty open."

Wow, he thinks you want gentle.

"What have you liked in the past? Do you have any favorite positions? Any specific foreplay that really gets you off? Any fun kinks I should keep in mind?"

At this point, you were getting nervous.

You'd done stuff, sure, but only with guys your age. And never went all the way there. You'd wanted to, sure, but when a guy cannot give head or find the clit, there was no way he'd make sure you cum during sex. You weren't willing to risk that yet.

You untangled yourself from him, and scooched back slightly. You bit your lip, and sat sideways on the couch, facing him, criss-cross. "I have a confession." you sighed, and he turned towards you gently.

"Tell me, sweetheart,"

"I haven't had sex before. I definitely have an idea of what I like, though. If it isn't things you are into that's okay, too," you rambled once again, and a slight smile littered Aaron's face.

"That's okay. Whether or not you have had sex, this is still your pace. We go when you want to go," his voice was so soft, so gentle, and he grabbed your hand, kissing your knuckles.

"Do you want to tell me what you do like? I want to know what makes my pretty little bird sing," he almost growled, his voice somehow still gentle. You blushed once again, and gripped his hand a little tighter. "I really like pain."

"Pain? So, a little masochist. Okay," he smiled, "what kind of pain? I'm intrigued,"

"At some point, I really would like you to use your belt on me. Maybe around my neck, or to whip me with it. I want you to pull my hair, and I want you to choke me. That ones my favorite, but no one's ever done it right. I want you to choke me all the time, in any sexual context. Even if it's just heavy making out. If we do anything super heavy, or even just have sex, I really need aftercare, I think is the term? Like, please don't fuck me and then leave immediately."

His eyes were glistening as you had taken yours from him to explain things. You often talked with your hands, he had noticed, and he couldn't help but watch your perfectly manicured fingers whiz around in the air as you explained what turned you on.

"I like names, even mean ones. Just not bitch, that's my only real limit. Sweetheart, slut, whore, bunny, baby, anything. Just not bitch."

"I can work with that."

The last sexual conversation you had with Aaron ended fairly calmly, just a little making out and some cuddling. Aaron was serious, this was your rodeo. And at the time, you didn't think you were 100% there yet. You had full confidence in Aaron, but you wanted to feel ready. Pamper yourself, dress nicely, get a good wax, and most importantly drink plenty of water.

He had also been pretty busy with work, so not much physically had advanced between you two. However, tonight was different. You were going to have sex with Aaron Hotchner, and it was going to be hot, and mind-blowing, and everything you could imagine.

"Whatcha thinking so hard about, sweet girl?"

You had been so caught in your own thoughts, you didn't notice Aaron coming into your house with a box of pizza and two strawberry lemonades.

And that is when you realized it.

As he came in with presumably a cheese pizza, because you didn't eat meat, and your favorite drink, you felt it. You loved him. Why it didn't occur to you before was a mystery, but you knew it now. You loved Aaron Hotchner.

"I'm parched," you smiled, breaking out of thought. "I've got just the thing for you, honey." He quickly sat down and handed you a lemonade, and you smiled gratefully.

A few minutes went by relatively calmly, a light conversation about your day at work, his about paperwork and how JJ had been gushing about her son graduating kindergarten. His little smile warmed your heart. You ate pizza together, and you laid your neck against the armrest, with your legs laid over his lap.

With the TV show playing numbly on the screen, you finished your last bite and set the crust back into the box. You were equally prepared that Aaron may not be ready tonight, or may not want to. Just because you wanted to doesn't mean any slight signal of hesitance from him would let anything continue.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I think I just need to be closer to you," you smiled softly. At the very least you wanted to cuddle with him, be near him. You adjusted yourself, and sat next to him, pulling the throw over your legs, as you were freezing.

You cuddled like that for a while, just humming and his hand slowly tracing over your back. Your eyes drooped in and out, and you damn near fell asleep laying so comfortably against your boyfriend. He was so warm, he smelled so good, and he was your comfort person. How could you not?

It wasn't long before you felt him shifting underneath you, making an almost uncomfortable groaning noise. It was soft, but enough to wake you. It was then your ears caught it: moaning.

Not from Aaron, though. Your eyes fluttered open to the TV out in front of you, and it was a very vivid sex scene. Not porn, just very loud and clear sex. And it dawned on you.

Aaron has a hard on and was trying not to wake you. How cute.

"Aaron, are you okay?"

Playing innocent was your best bet, and if it truly was going to make him uncomfortable, you didn't want to push it.

His eyes met yours, now fully open, and he smiled softly. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just a little uncomfortable is all," he was so sweet in his tone, his voice deeper than usual.

"Is there anything I can do?"

The very loud slapping of skin in the background was the winner of your voice in the game of volume. This was a really long sex scene, Jesus Christ.

He paused for a moment, and then instead of answering he simply kissed your forehead, holding it there for a moment. "Aaron, are you hard?"

Out with it.

"Quite, but that is not your problem. I am fully capable of taking a shower and sleeping it off."

"If that's what you want to do, I will respect that. But... I am also fully willing to help you, if you want."

"Sweetheart, only if you're comfortable. Honestly," he was clearly uncomfortable, and your heart ached at how he was more worried about you than anything.

"Can I touch you?"

"Of course you can, honey," he sighed, meeting your lips in a gentle kiss. It wasn't long before his hands wrapped around your face gingerly, holding you tightly.

You lifted the blanket off of his lap, and stared impressively at his bulge. You didn't have any expectations, but you could clearly tell he wasn't the smallest.

You rolled your hands over his bulge, immediately watching as his eyes closed and he leaned his head back. You weren't new to foreplay, thank god, so you made quick work of his pants. Soon followed his boxers, the entire time his face eager but clearly wanting to respect you.

He was holding back so much.

You moved yourself to the carpeted floor, falling to your knees in front of him. His legs were spread, and he just looked at you with pure adoration. "You're beautiful," his hand came to gently swipe your hair from your face.

You responded by spitting on his dick, and looking up at him as you did it. He was a pretty decent length, but his thickness is what had you hung up. He was a perfect girth, but you knew this was going to leave your jaw sore.

As your mouth went around him, his hand stayed on your head. He was gently petting your head, as if it was his non-verbal form of praise. Sucking dick was a lot of work, but hearing Aaron groan and rub your jaw so gently was worth it.

"God, you're such a good girl,"

Music to your ears.

You went for as long as you could, before your jaw began to ache. The entire time Aaron was whispering sweet nothings to you, telling you how good you were doing.

"Fuck, come here," he pulled you off of his now sopping cock, and led you to his lap. "We don't have to do anything more, sweetheart. Not unless you really want to," he cradled your face in his hand, the warmth radiating off of your very red and achy cheeks.

It only took a moment before he kissed your forehead. "Aaron, I want you to take me, but could we go slow?"

"Oh, of course. It would be my pleasure," he grinned, "I'm going to make you feel so good. You were such a good little whore for me, how can I resist?"

Your eyes widened, and you couldn't help the wetness in your panties that erupted at the name. Your outfit wasn't super challenging, some sleep shorts and a black t-shirt (no bra, though). Typical sleepwear, but it gives Aaron easy access.

"If at any point you want to stop, just say the word," he moans into your mouth, but pulling away quickly to hold your face gently and stare into your eyes.

"What word?" you gave him doe eyes, your mouth and lips now sopping with a mixture of saliva and precum. He wanted to simply devour you whole.

"Red."

"Classic. I like that."

Following your giggle, he grabs your hand and stands up. You were confused for a short moment, until he leads you toward your room. He was truly a gentleman.

No couch fucking today, he thought.

Maybe tomorrow.

He rolled his boxers back down again, and closed the door behind you two. "Lay down, sweet girl," he smiled at you, and you couldn't help but giggle. This sweet man was all yours, and no one else's. How lucky a time.

You were fully on your back, looking up at him comfortably in your jammies still while he was fully naked. He was quick to get on the bed and hover over you, his eyes glistening with humor.

Your giggles didn't subside even as his hands roamed your body.

"What's so funny?"

"That--"

Your voice was cut short with a gasp, as he sucked onto your neck and his fingers snuck into your shorts and quickly rounded your clit. He rubbed you gently for a moment, before asking so very sweetly if he could take off your PJ's.

"Please," you were so smitten, so love drunk and fucked out already and he'd barely touched you. It wasn't long before your underwear and shorts, and you thanked the heavens for your wax. Baby smooth.

He followed pulling your shirt gently off of your torso, and you were now fully exposed, nipples hard as day.

"God, you're so beautiful."

You blushed and smiled at him, and as he circled your clit gently, knowing he couldn't unleash his rough side just yet, he kissed you so deeply. This was not a sex kiss.

This was an I love you kiss. And you both understood that.

To truly be comfortable enough and trust each other for sex was one thing, but you had already reached everything else in your relationship. You loved each other. And Aaron was going to make damn sure you knew that.

So he expressed his love as he dove his face between your legs, and little whimpers escaping your mouth. He teased your now sopping hole with one finger, testing the waters, and slowly slid it inside.

He made quick work, circling your clit with his tongue so harshly all of a sudden, and thrusting his fingers in and out of your cunt. The wet, squelching noises filled the room, and you were trying to be quiet. Your hand covered your mouth, and your other one grasping around desperately. Bedsheets, pillow, anything to tug on.

"Take your hand off your mouth," he ordered, looking up at you with a very moist pair of lips. "You can tug on my hair, you're not the only one who likes a little pain, sweetness,"

You giggled in response, which was short lived as another gasp filled the air. Your hands quickly found Aaron's hair, so sleek and soft, as he devoured you.

Each moment was a different approach, two fingers inside you, tongue on your clit. Fast and hard, or slow and gentle while he looked up at you. Each one made you feel so good and closer to an orgasm. He wasn't just good, he was amazing. It was like he knew the ins and outs of your body already.

Truth was, he was a quick learner. And he was a little nervous, this was your first time having sex. He wanted it to be good, to have fun, and for you not to regret it.

"More," you breathed out in a ragged moan, "please."

"Oh, since you asked so nicely, how could I refuse?" he then added a third finger inside of your drenched core, and moved his body up yours to kiss you.

You tasted yourself on him, and you can't lie. It was not the most magical fruity taste you'd ever experienced, but the sacrifice was made. He made you feel good.

As you two made out feverishly, his fingers still pumping in and out of you, his other hand found free space on the side of your jaw. It was slowly trailing down, further, and further, until it landed on the side of your neck.

Aaron knew that this was going to be the finish line as he felt you clench on his fingers of excitement. "Oh, my little whore really likes her neck being played with, huh?"

He started off gently, before he could hear your moans electrify from the presence of his hands. "Fuck, please," you were an incoherent mess at this point, just waiting for release.

His fingers were taken out of you, and he did quick, dirty circles on your clit as he held your throat full force. You were gonna come, and holy shit your legs were already shaking. "Please, please, let me come," you whimpered out, and he met you with another shaky but fervent kiss.

All you heard was squelching, wet noises as he rubbed you closer and closer. You had to wait for him to tell you, though.

"Come for me. Come all over my fingers, my pretty little slut,"

Your entire body shook and your face now a rosy red, you made such pretty noises for him. You were still coming, his fingers never stopped playing with your little clit. His hands wrapped tighter around your throat as your entire body hit a peak, and slowly started to come down.

He took his hands off of your throat, and he slowly licked his own fingers clean of your mess. He made direct eye contact as he did it. His ravenous side was still in full force, but seeing your tired, fucked out body made his eyebrows crease in worry.

"Are you okay? Did that feel alright, sweetheart?"

Your heart melted. He just gave you probably the hardest orgasm of your life and he was making sure you were okay. "I'm okay, and I have never came that hard.. like ever." You giggled as he laid next to you, his hand holding the side of your jaw and his thumb combing over the side of your cheek.

You stayed like that for a moment, just staring into each other's eyes. He came in for another kiss, and it was like something took over you. "Please, fuck me."

"Condom or no condom?" Aaron was slowly rubbing himself as he sat next to you, his cock angry and leaking. "I wanna feel you, you know I'm on the shot anyways,"

"Fuck, sweets, I'm gonna ruin you,"

Aaron slowly adjusted himself and was laying over you, and he knew this wasn't going to be a fast process. He wanted to make you feel it, but also not be so fucked out from pain.

Mouths together once again, he was softer this time. His fingers were creating warmth on the side of your body, just rubbing and creating a comfortability with being touched so intimately. His mouth slowly inched down, your jaw, neck, then stopped at your perked nipples.

He took one in his mouth and slowly toyed with the other in his thick fingers, and your moans were quick to come rushing out. "Fuck, as good as you feel, I need to you to hurt me. Please."

"Should I grab my belt?"

He looked up at you from misty eyes filled with pure lust, and you nodded like a little kid offered candy. "Oh, please," you moaned out as he bit down on your nipples softly.

It was only seconds before he flipped your body over, and you were now face down on the bed. You waited in anticipation as you heard some rumbling, and the metal of a belt click. You'd only gotten belted once before, and it left marks and bruises. You loved it.

"How about 5?" he asked, his hands slowly fondling your ass. He parted your cheeks, taking a long look at your leaking cunt. He was rock hard, and wanted nothing more than to fuck you endlessly, but he needed one final hoorah.

"Yes, sir,"

One.

The sting was sharp, and you gasped softly. "You're such a good girl, you know that? So fucking beautiful," he said, before the jangling of the belt came once more.

Two.

The moans that left your mouth were melancholic. Aaron wasn't necessarily a sadist, but your pleasure was ultimate to him. He was surprised you hadn't been asking him to slap you in the face with how dark you'd gone the first time.

Three.

It was starting to really hurt, and no longer in the good way. Now he was repeating sides, and you could hear him groaning to himself. Surely, if you could see, he is probably fisting his cock at the moment.

Your ass was fire red, already tainting with color. "You're taking this so well, baby,"

Another thwack hit your backside, and you wanted to cry. This was a little too much now, you couldn't take another one. You were still aroused, but you didn't know how to say you wanted this to stop here.

You flopped your hand onto the bed, searching for his. "Aaron," you breathed out, and he quickly dropped the belt to the floor and leaned down to catch your eyes. "Too much?"

You nodded, "A little, just for now. I promise I'll get better,"

He left a gentle swipe over your backside, and slowly bent over to give both cheeks a gentle kiss.

Aaron laughed a little at your comment, and quickly adjusted you to your back again. "Oh sweetheart, you don't have to get better at anything," he once again ran his thumb over your cheek.

You were in the compromising position, you had both kind of been pushing off. He was sitting with his thighs out, legs open, his dick hanging in the air. Hard as a fucking rock, this entire time. Your legs were swung over his in comfortability, but now, the realization had hung in the air.

"Do you want to keep going? We can stop here, honey."

"Take me, please," you groaned, kissing him on the lips. He grabbed your hand during this intense makeout session, and clasped them together. He wanted to hold your hand while he was going to be balls deep in you. That was cute.

"If it gets too much, tell me," he whispered, using his other hand to swipe his cock against your wet lower lips. He opened his mouth and backed away, you thought for viewing purposes, but instead he used all of his might and let a trail of spit fall onto your cunt.

He rubbed a little more, before immediately fucking into you, grasping your hand tightly.

It hurt. So fucking much, and not the good kind. It felt like your skin was tearing, and you were uncomfortably full. Why does it feel like this?

Aaron immediately took notice, and looked you in the face. "It should go away fairly soon, but if it hurts too bad I will pull out and we can just cuddle," he whispered, and you shook your head.

"Just..mmh. Need a little more time, please," you squeaked out, tears brimming your eyes. The sting of pain was still there, but the fullness was no longer uncomfortable. It felt right, as if you were complete with the way you almost felt his cock inside your stomach.

Aaron licked his fingers and quickly got to work on your clit, hoping it would wetten you up a bit and also distract you from the pain. It took all self control in him not to rut into you and immediately come. You were so fucking tight, and the way your face was glowing, he wanted nothing more than to fuck you just right.

"You can..." you breathed gently, clenching his hand still, "move," Aaron gave you a deep kiss, wishing he could swallow all of your uncomfort and give you all of his pleasure. He slowly went out, and rutted his hips back in a little harder than he would've liked to.

He started a very slow rythym, your legs were over his so he had all access he needed. Any sign of hesitation and he was to stop, he told himself. As of now, though, it seemed as if you were starting to enjoy it.

He held himself off from coming so quickly, and made sure you finished first. He was such a giver, and he wanted to make you feel good. He went a little rougher, a little faster, and your moans slowly came from your throat.

"Fuck, does that feel good?"

You took his hand that held yours, and slowly transferred it to your neck. He was a little taken aback, but slowly grinned. "Choke me, daddy,"

Aaron Hotchner had never fucked someone like he fucked you. After hearing you call him that, he wrapped his oh so beautifully large hands around you throat and fucked you into oblivion.

Your pussy was squelching, filling up the room with both of your hips smacking together. Aaron wasn't fully inside you, though. Not as much as he wanted to be. He wanted to make sure you could adjust.

His hands were all over you, now that you could take him faster. His hands at your hips, pistoning into you, whispering sweet nothings, or tugging at your nipples. He was a man poisoned by your body.

"Such a dirty girl, taking me so well," he gripped your thighs tightly, almost needing to hold on. You were so full, so overstimulated, it was a miracle you hadn't come yet.

It wasn't until his fingers landed on your clit, he fully bottomed out inside you. Your whole body shuddered, and you leaned up to lean your head into his shoulder.

"Oh, god," you were out of breath, your voice nearly breaking, "please, fuck me, please,"

"You're so fucking tight, fuck," he was now grunting, and he could feel your thighs shaking. You were going to come. He rubbed your clit faster, spreading your juices all over his fingers. "Yeah, you gonna come? All over this fat cock? Fuck, come for me,"

You moaned into his ear as your orgasm hit you like a fucking truck, and your whole body froze, then started to seize. Your thighs shook, your hands shook, and Aaron had to stop himself right then and there from coming once again. Your already tight walls cradled his cock so beautifully, he continued to fuck in and out of you, before you looked up at him, post climax.

"Aren't you gonna come inside me, daddy?"

"Fuck," he growled, before pulling out and turning you over once again. You were now face down in the bed, and he was quick to give a light slap on your ass and fill you once more. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and truly went balls deep. You were a moaning mess once again, feeling so fucking full.

"Yeah, you're so fucking good for me. So sweet, and all mine," he growled out, using his full force to fuck you. "I'm gonna cum inside this sweet little pussy. If it leaks out I'll just have to fuck it back into you, huh?"

"Oh, my god, Aaron," you were so overstimulated again, and you reached down to circle your clit once more. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum again, please, please keep fucking me,"

He grabbed your hips, letting go of your hair, and used brute force of his hips to fuck into you. "So fucking good, sweetheart," he kept whispering, and almost like clockwork, your second orgasm started. The clenching of your sore cunt is what drunk his out, his dick spasming and releasing hot ropes of cum inside you.

You laid together, sweaty bodies now having come together as one. Aaron was quick to get up though, insisting he run you a warm bath and grabbing a rag for himself.

You laid on your side, now feeling sore. Especially your ass, which at this point felt raw. It wasn't long before you heard the bath water running, and he walked back into the room with a black t-shirt on and a pair of boxer shorts.

"My, my, Aaron Hotchner, don't you look delicious," you said, almost sleepily with a smirk on your face. Still sticky, covered in cum, you were still at peace. He was yours.

"Alright, hotshot, lets go get in the bath," and as you began to sit up, he quickly hissed at you. "Absolutely not will you be walking,"

Aaron Hotchner carried you bridal style to the bathroom, gently laying you into the lukewarm tub. You hissed in pain, your ass really taking the hit. Literally.

"Shit, I'm sorry. I wish I would have stopped earlier," he said in sorrow, his eyes almost searching for forgiveness. "Aaron, I literally asked for it. It felt good," you smiled, pecking him on the lips as he was on his knees next to you. "Now if I had asked you to stop and you didn't, that would be another story."

"You know I'd never do that, right?"

You nodded, pulling your knees up to your chest and laying your head to the side as Aaron ran warm water over your back, his hands carressing you so gently.

"You did so well, tonight, you know that?" He was showering you with love, and you felt it. He gave you a kiss on the temple, and continued rubbing your back soothingly. "Lets put some lotion on your ass later, okay?"

You couldn't help but giggle.

"Are you staying tonight?" you asked wtih hopeful eyes, begging for only one answer.

"Of course, sweetheart," he gave you the most genuinely smile Aaron Hotchner could muster.

He continued like that for a while, slowly helping you clean yourself off, even in the most private places. This was more intimate than the dirty, rough sex you just had. Speaking of..

"Can we cuddle tonight?"

hello! i hope you enjoyed this lovely piece of smut. i am taking more requests for one-shots, blurbs, etc. i do criminal minds (female x emily, derek, hotch, reid, or garcia) i also do the walking dead (female x daryl, rick, negan) and bts AND stray kids if you're into kpop!

[themanip]

Perrie on the set for Wishmaker Fragrance  

[themanip]

— sweet

pairing: chan x fem!reader genre: smut, soft!dom chan. content: 18+ minors dni. warnings below cut. word count: 4.1k

summary: you’re his best friend’s little sister. he’s obsessed with you, and you him. he has very good self control—until he’s forced to share a tent with you. forced proximity with corruption kink.

Keep reading

[themanip]

JADE THIRLWALL GIF PACK

by clicking the source link, you will find [ 120 ] gifs of jade thirlwall in the role of herself in little mix’s song association video w/ elle (2020). she was born in 1992 and is of egyptian, yemeni, and english descent. all gifs are cropped to 250x140 and made completely from scratch by me, so please do not steal, redistribute, crop, color, or otherwise edit these without my permission. please like and/or reblog if you found these gifs useful in any way.

triggers: n/a

[themanip]

Are the requests for writing only for smut or can they be for non-smutty things too haha 👀

they can be anything! angst, pure fluff, anything!

[themanip]

writing requests open!

i will write for supernatural, criminal minds, stray kids, bts, and the walking dead! pls send in whatever your heart desires!

[themanip]

૮˃̵֊ ˂̵ ა ! messy icons ! like or reblog.

[themanip]

help!

does anyone have any suggestions for namjoon fics? like longer stories not just drabbles/blurbs!

[themanip]

he’s so fine

[themanip]

I’m rendered speechless by how stunning he is.. wow.. just wow

[themanip]

𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐱 𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐤𝐩𝐨𝐩 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬

⚘ 𝐁𝐓𝐒 ⟶ 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄

⚘ 𝐈𝐓𝐙𝐘 ⟶ 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀𝐁𝐄

⚘ 𝐁𝐓𝐒 ⟶ 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐒𝐖𝐀𝐍

⚘ 𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐓 ⟶ 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑