#Dave you’re so amazing

[baura-bear]

HEY POOKIE BEAR !! HOW ARE YOU!!! was diggin through my drafts and i found this cowboy au thingy.. it was my own interpretation of how jack and davey possibly met but then you posted your version and i just fell in love with it and didn't pay much mind to my draft.. however i think it's pretty fun so here it is :3

Dear Mama,

All is fine. Sarah and I started working at a local store–I work at the register, she stocks the shelves. (If she isn’t slacking off, that is…) I haven’t met anyone interesting yet. To be fair, the folks here aren’t very fond of newcomers, but that’s to be expected from a small town out West.

Well, I suppose that’s all for now. I’ll write often, as I promised. Do tell me how you and Papa are coping with your eldest children gone.

Love,

David

*

David glanced at his pocket watch for what seemed like the hundredth time this hour, and he sighed dramatically. Sarah was late to work. Again. And the shelves weren’t going to magically fill up with all the goods.

“I swear to God, I’m taking her salary when we get paid,” he grumbled to himself, tying his apron tighter as he walked out from behind the cash register. He headed out back, where all the crates were, all of them intact. He took a few of them at once and went back inside, all the while cursing quietly under his breath.

He started with the canned products first. Kidney beans, corn, tomatoes, peaches, pineapples. Thinking of how much he disliked their new home helped speed the process up a bit. The people weren’t welcoming, their employer treated them like some sort of scum, they haven’t even managed to get a proper house yet (mind you, sleeping at a saloon room was an absolute nightmare for several reasons), and Sarah was never doing her job. David didn’t even know where she was off to the majority of the time, and her explanations (or lack thereof) definitely didn’t help. All in all, David missed home so far, missed the comfort of his own bed and the familiar noises of New York’s bustling city life, missed his parents, missed his… Well, okay, he didn’t really have friends, so that remained unchanged.

When David was about halfway done with restocking, a customer walked in, and so of course he had to come back to the register.

“Good morning, sir,” he greeted with a forced smile. “What do you need today?”

The stranger waltzed around the store, looking at the wares, and David took the opportunity to get a good look at him–a man his age, maybe a few years older, really fancy. A brimmed hat which made him look like a card shark, a nice, checkered vest, underneath it a white dress shirt, and some striped pants. He didn’t look like trouble, David decided, and so he eased a little, simply letting the man look at the products.

“I don’t suppose you sell, say, ammunition, perhaps, good sir?” the man asked, a kind, almost cheeky smile on his face as he finally walked up to the register. He looked past David, at the back of the store, and he definitely noticed the sturdy door which led to the room in which all the money was stored, in an iron safe.

“We do, for revolvers and rifles,” David nodded, and he started turning around to reach for a small cabinet behind the register, where the ammunition was hidden. Safety measures, or whatever the boss said.

“Alright, thank you, sir,” the man said and tipped his hat, but strangely enough, he started walking out of the building without buying anything. “Stay safe, yeah?”

David creased his eyebrows and watched the man closely. “Yes, thank you,” he answered half-heartedly, and waited for the man to come back or for literally anything to happen. When a few minutes had passed and nothing happened, David decided to let it go. He went to get another crate, this time filled with ammo, and started placing the little cartons in the cabinet.

Then, he heard the door open again, the little bell ringing, and a pair of heels on the wooden floor. He figured that since he could hear the strong clink of the heels, it must’ve been Sarah.

“Sara, znów się spóźniasz,” he scolded his older sister without turning around, using their native tongue. “Przysięgam, jeśli jeszcze raz będę musiał za ciebie wykładać towar, to biorę twoją pensję–”

The words quickly died in his throat as he heard a click. That was, undoubtedly, a gun. As he slowly turned around, a man came into his vision. A cowboy. Of course.

“This is a robbery, good sir,” the man said with a strong accent, pointing his gun right at David, and David felt his heart speed up significantly, his eyes going wide, his hands shaking as he let the crate drop to the ground. “Just stay where you are an’ you won’t get hurt, yeah?”

David nodded, or at least he tried to, frozen in place. He raised his hands in a defensive motion, watching as the cowboy approached. It was now very clear that the heels were just his cowboy boots, moreover, David could now hear the noise the spurs made as the man walked closer. He had two holsters, one of them obviously empty, and if that amount of guns wasn’t enough, he also had a double-barreled shotgun on his back, and given by the stern look in his eyes (the rest of his face being hidden by a red bandana), he was ready to use it and blow a hole into David’s chest.

“Now, give me the money from the register,” the robber commanded as he got close, the barrel of the gun aiming directly between David’s eyes.

David didn’t take long to comply, because he decided that he isn’t paid enough to risk his life. He opened the cash register, struggling a little, given how his hands trembled and how he had trouble with seeing straight, but eventually, he handed the register's contents to the cowboy–a generous wad of money and a few coins.

As the cowboy quickly eyeballed the amount of money, he let out a disapproving grunt, shaking his head. “C’mon, I know it ain’t all,” he said, his finger resting on the revolver’s trigger. “The room in the back, it’s there, ain’t it? Won’t you be helpful and open it?”

David swallowed thickly and started walking backwards slowly, all the while holding his hands up and looking right at the man. He dug in his pocket for a moment and fished out the key eventually, then made quick work of the door lock and eventually opened it, immediately stepping aside.

The man walked into the room, but when he saw the safe, he scoffed. “Son of a… ‘Course,” he said, mostly to himself, and stuck his head out. “Race! Get inside and help me, would ya?”

“You said I was s’pposed to be on the lookout!” a voice from outside the store yelled.

“And now I’m tellin’ ya to get your ass over here!”

David couldn't do anything but watch on as the two partners in crime yelled at each other, which continued even as the other man walked inside. David couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw that it was the same card shark guy from before.

“Howdy again, good sir, excuse my dumbass of a partner there,” said Race, which was what his partner called him.

“Damn it, Racer, shut up and tie the damn guy before he runs outta here and gets the sheriff to intervene!” the man instructed as he struggled with opening the iron box, his ear right next to the lock as he listened to its clicks.

How am I you ask? Upon seeing this in my ask box I immediately burst into tears 😋 thank you my friend for this because 🤲🤲🤲 I needed it and it made my day so much better and like ???!!!!! It’s so good??? You say you fell in love with my version but like !!!! I just fell in love with this!!!!! It’s so perfect 😭 we get David and Sarah bickering and Sarah doesn’t even enter the scene which is so amazing and Jack and Races dynamic??!!!!!!! Ahhhhhhhhhh it’s so good it’s so so good oh my gosh… also hot cowboys tying up the helpless cashier 👁️👁️ pretty gay if you ask me. Anyway if I were at my usual functioning level this would just be me in all caps screaming but I’m very tired so just imagine this is in all caps with a lot of exclamation points and key smashes. This is everything I love it so much Dave so so much gah! And Jack’s guns??!! He’s so cool gosh darn 🫶🫶🫶‼️

[thetriumphantpanda]

i saw mommy kissing santa claus | joel miller

Summary | Your daughter catches you kissing santa... or does she?

Word Count | 1.3K

Warnings | Mentions of traditional Christmas (A tree, gift giving ect), Joel dressed as Santa, Joel being a daddy again, Joel AS A HUSBAND, smut but not super explicit - oral sex (f) and unprotected PiV, just general fluff really.

Authors note | Firstly, I have to give a huge shoutout to @wildemaven - the Dave York piece she posted recently definitely inspired this little Drabble, along with being stuck in a car with my bestie for three hours with the Christmas radio blaring. This is just some sweet Christmas fluff for us all!

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi.

amazing divider by @saradika

The way the snow flurries fall outside are still a wonder to you, even after seven years of winters in Jackson. The warmth you remember from Christmas before the end of the world is a distant memory now, the open windows and the light breeze of December now replaced with the biting cold and the four layers you must wear inside your home to keep as warm as possible. It’s magical though, the way it looks picture perfect, just like the movies you would watch back then. If you could, you’d take a photo of it, use it as the family Christmas card.

Turning around from the window, the room is bathed in the orange glow from the fire you set a few hours earlier. The lamp, on Joel’s side of the couch is also helping, as are the frosty lights wrapped haphazardly around the tree, in making it feel normal. Because really it is. This has been your life for the past five years, putting up a tree, setting small gifts under it like you always had before all of this. The three stockings set above the fireplace, ready to be filled in the next few hours – the precursor of joy the following morning.

Sofia had thankfully gone to bed with little fuss tonight. Finally old enough to understand that the earlier she went to sleep, the earlier she could wake up to find out if Santa had paid her a visit. She hadn’t been planned, but then when were children ever a plan in this new world? You’d been scared, Joel had been terrified, but in the end, she had been the most wonderful thing to happen to the both of you.

You settle on the couch, letting the warmth from the fire soothe the aches that the cold now settles across your bones. You’re almost able to fall asleep, when, with clockwork timing, Joel tears open the front door, a flurry of snow and cold following him in as he closes it behind him. You struggled to stifle a giggle as you turn to look at him.

Dressed head to toe in a Santa costume that is far too big for him, not enough time for the town seamstress to do anything other than pin the sides of the trousers in. The hat on his head is almost covering his eyes, his hand pushing it back to sit properly, as he deposits the sack, once full of tiny gifts but now empty, on the ground. He’s got a fake beard on to cover most of his face so that none of the children that did see him would know it was Joel.

“Wow,” You muse lightly, standing from the couch, “I thought it was customary to wait for everyone to go to sleep before you turned up?”

There’s a slight grumble from under his beard as you step closer to him, watching as he pulls the fake beard down to sit around his neck, his beautiful face finally revealed. You set your back against the closed door, leaning against it, fluttering your eyelashes slightly.

“Did you bring us presents, Santa?” You ask, voice sultry and low.

“Depends,” Joel says, voice just as low, “Have you been a good girl this year?”

That low, southern drawl shoots straight between your legs, thighs rubbing together as you shrug at him, wrinkle your nose a little, “You’d have to ask my husband.”

You watch as he smirks, steps a little closer to you, his gloved hand wrapping around your waist, “What would he say?”

“That I can be a handful,” You bite at your bottom lip, “But ultimately, I always do as I’m told.”

Joel leans down, as slowly as possible, mouth so close you can feel his breath across your lips, your body tugged closely to his own now, “Well then,” He muses, “If you’ve been a good girl, it’s only right you get your gift.”

His mouth is on yours in no time, softly pressed against yours, his hand clutching your body close to his as you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing up on your tiptoes so your mouth is finally flush with his own. You open your mouths at the same time, tongues meeting as Joel groans into your mouth, hands pulled from your body just long enough to tear the gloves off his hands, shoving them straight under the hem of your shirt, resting at your waist to move you gently from the door to the couch.

He sets you down on your back, fumbling his big body to cover yours as those hands of his work to undo your jeans - tearing them down your legs enough so he can put his mouth on you. You feel weirdly like a teenager, fumbling with someone on the couch like this, biting down on your fist in order to keep quiet as Joel’s tongue works across your soaked cunt, drinking you down, tipping you over the edge twice with his mouth - the second, with his fingers buried deep inside you - trying to keep yourself as quiet as you can, you know the other option is waking your daughter and having to spend the rest of the night trying to get her to go back to sleep.

It gets harder to hold that noise in when Joel pulls you onto his lap, trousers pushed down just enough for you to sink down onto his cock, that stupid Santa jacket unbuttoned, pushed off his shoulders, your mouth biting down on his skin as he fucks up into you, his hands gripping the meat of your ass to keep you still.

It’s messy, it lasts probably less than five minutes, Joel spilling himself inside of you, your mouth pulled from his shoulder, bite mark evident as he moves you gently, puts himself right so he can carry you up the stairs, tuck you both into bed, his warm body next to yours as you both drift off to sleep, sated and happy.

Then, the next morning, with Sofia on her knees in front of the tree, you sat on the couch, curled into Joel’s side with a smile on your face at the elation your daughter finds in tearing the paper off her gifts, she says something no-one expects.

“Daddy?” She says, big brown eyes looking up at the two of you.

“Yes, Darlin’?”

“Mommy was kissing Santa last night.”

You almost choke on your coffee, spluttering to try and keep your composure, praying to the Almighty that it was just the kissing she saw. Joel though, is cool as a cucumber.

“Is that right?” He asks, looking down at you with a wink.

“Yeah!” Sofia exclaims, “I saw her last night.”

“You were supposed to be in bed.” You chastise her lightly, “What were you doing up?”

“I heard the door open,” She says, so matter-of-factly that it’s like having a conversation with an adult, “I wanted to meet him.”

“Well, you see,” Joel speaks, “Sometimes, to get your presents from Santa, he’s gotta ask for somethin’ in return, all that travellin’ in one night and he sees your pretty mama?” He shakes his head, “I’d ask her for a kiss too.”

She mulls it over a little, small hands holding onto an unopened gift, then clearly accepts the explanation as she tears into the paper.

“Nicely saved,” You whisper into his ear, lips pressing a kiss to the delicate skin behind it, “Christmas is saved.”

“Oh baby,” He whispers back, taking the lull in Sofia’s attention on the two of you to look down at you, “You can’t think you can kiss Santa and get away with it?” His low voice sends a silver down your spine, “You’re gonna have to make up for that later."

[asterias-record-shop]

╭════• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •═══╮

— fuck his brains out

╰════• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •═══╯

In which you pretend not to know your boyfriend is Kick-Ass. maybe OOC characters, I got a little carried away, and maybe mixed timeline, I haven't watched the movies in a while... Also, Dave x Mean! reader because who doesn't love that?

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪

“I think Kick-Ass is hotter,” you look over at Dave, licking your ice cream almost teasingly. “If I had the chance, I’d fuck his brains out.”

Dave blushed madly, rubbing his cheeks before you stand and tug on his arm. “Dave, I think we should start heading out. You’re walking me home, right?”

Dave nodded quickly, as you thought that it was best because you had been taking care of him since his injury or said that because it had been a while. “Y-Yeah! I will, I’m coming.”

He waved at his friends as you tugged him out, throwing away the napkin that previously held your ice cream cone away. “I mean it,” you said abruptly, smiling over as you held his hand. “I would fuck him so hard he wouldn’t be able to talk.”

“W-Would you?” Dave finally speaks, looking over at you as you smiled.

“Hell yeah I would.”

Later that night, Mindy stared at him as he fixed his mask. “This isn’t a good idea, Dave."

In all seriousness, he really thought she would fight him to make him stay. What he was doing was stupid, but he was about to get laid. By you. The most beautiful girl in the world.

"This," he grinned back at her. "Is an amazing idea. I'm going to get laid so fucking hard."

"What if she wants to take off your mask?"

"She won't."

"What if she recognizes your voice?"

He paused, then smiled. "When I'm nervous, my voice gets higher. She won't recognize it. I'll see you later!"

He ran out, quickly going to your home. How was he going to get in? Would he sneak in through the window you always had unlocked that was right next to your dresser? Or would he throw rocks at your window, begging for you to let him up so you could fuck him?

He started to panic, how the hell would he sneak into your house?

In nervousness, he paced in the back alleyway behind your house before his phone buzzed, your name blaring on the screen.

Y/N 8:57PM come in through the window ;)

It made him pause before he looked at your window, gasping as you stared at him with your body lit in light of your bedside lamp. He could see your bright smile as you gave him a small wave, a gulp echoing through the alley as you opened up the window a bit and leave it open with a hairbrush.

He inhaled deeply as he slowly jumped over the fence, climbing up the tree that led up to the window, easily slipping through after pushing it up before carefully pushing it down. He gasped as he looked back, staring at his reflection through the mirror from where you sat in front of your vanity.

"It's slightly... perverted to sneak into a woman's house, right?" Your fingers rubbed moisturizer into your face like he had seen you do in the nights he slept over. "Dave knows that, but I'm assuming Kick-Ass doesn't."

Dave cleared his throat, pushing his hands to cover the front of his suit, specifically over his crotch. He loved it when you said his name. "I-I uhm... you know Dave as well? I know Dave too."

He watched as you giggled. "I do know Dave, very well. But something's telling me you know him a little better than I do."

He swallowed, humming before making his voice deeper. “I-I’ve known Dave a long time… Y/N.”

“Have you now?” You stood, slowly walking over and swaying your beautiful hips before you stood in front of him. “How long?”

“M-My whole life.”

You giggled as he slowly stepped forward to meet you in the middle, your fingers trailing down his chest as you pressed firm kisses wherever your fingers went and you slowly got down on your knees, your skimpy lingerie-like pajamas. "Did Dave ever tell you what I want to do to you, Kick-Ass? Hm?"

He whimpers, his false persona of confidence never even giving the chance to rise as you kissed over the bulge that he tried to hide. "H-He did... oh fuck, he did."

"Oh, well he didn't have to tell you, right? You knew it because you are Dave, right?" You licked over the material of his suit.

His head lulled back as he nodded, groaning. "R-Right, fucking hell, please! Please, please don't stop."

You scoffed as you stood, pressing your finger to his chest. "I knew it! I knew it, you bastard, why would you keep that from me?! Did you like me gushing over your alter ego?!"

He gasped as you shoved him, a groan falling from your lips. "What? No! No, of course not!"

"For fuck's sake, Dave! What, you're such a virgin that you loved the thought of some girl talking about her fantasies with your alter ego?! Fuck you!" You groaned as you sat on your bed, covering your face to hold back your smile. This had to work.

"No! No, of course not, of course not! I'm sorry, I am so sorry," he whined as he kneeled in front of you, holding your knees. "Please, you have to understand..." He takes off his mask, whimpering as he stared up at you. "I did it to keep you safe. I didn't... I don't want you to be a target."

You inhale deeply as you pulled your hands away from your face, glaring down at him. "You promise?"

"I promise."

He inhaled deeply as you squeezed his face, raising a brow. "Well then, what are you going to do to make it up to me?"

He paused, clearing his throat as you ran your fingers through his hair. "Wh-Whatever you want me to," he whispers, swallowing loudly. "Whatever you want me to do."

Oh, you knew it would work.

Maybe that's how Dave got here, laying on his back as he sobbed underneath your touch, the vibrating cock ring settled right at his base and your tongue licking at his tip, lapping and sucking teasingly. You giggled as he squirmed underneath your touch, your hand pumping him slowly. "I don't know if you've done enough to cum, Dave. I don't think... you've made it up to me."

He whined, shaking his head as he covered his mouth. "No, no please! I'll do anything you want, just please! I need- I need to cum inside of you."

You hummed teasingly, pursing your lips. "Inside of me? You want to ask that much of me? Do you think that you've done enough to get the pleasure of cumming inside of me?"

"Yes!" He whined loudly, groaning. "Yes! Yes, I'll make you feel good, I promise!"

You hummed, pumping him even harder. "No... I don't think you can. A virgin like you? Please."

"I promise! I promise I will, I promise." He whimpered, his hips bucking into the air.

He probably could, to be honest. His cock was bigger than you could ever imagine, his girth barely able to fit into your mouth without making your jaw ache and could barely go down your throat without choking. He had the prettiest dick you'd ever seen, definitely the biggest and girthiest too, just because the last few guys you saw were fucking assholes.

"Maybe I will let you cum inside of me," you mused, humming as you sucked on his tip to make loud popping sound echo across the room. "Maybe, if I'm feeling... nice."

He whined, nodding desperately. "Fuck, please! Please, I'll do anything!"

"Where do you want to cum inside of me, baby? Dave knows I'm on birth control, but does Kick-Ass?" You giggle, rubbing his thighs as you gagged on his cock.

"C-Can I cum i-in your... in your-?"

"You can't even say it, can you?" You giggled as you switched the ring into the highest power, humming. "You want to cum... inside of me, right? That narrows things down a little bit... you want to cum inside my mouth? Or... my ass, that's going to take a minute though. Maybe my pussy? Hm? It's already stretched out for you, Dave. Inside my pussy, inside of my cunt?"

"Y-Your cunt! I want... I want to cum inside of your cunt."

You giggled. "Just don't cum as soon as I take this ring off, alright?"

He let out a loud whimper, nodding as you slowly slip it off, putting it into your mouth to suck loudly, groaning as his taste filled your mouth. He groaned as you take it from your mouth, straddling his hips and holding his cock up. You could feel your eyes roll back, humming as he whimpered. "I-I'm close, I'm so close!"

You giggled as you sunk down onto him, yelling out as he screamed out, groaning with a strong buck of his hips to bottom out inside of you and his cum filling up your stomach. You gasped loudly, whimpering as you held onto his chest, your nails digging into his skin. "H-How are you still cumming?!"

"I-I can't stop," he groaned flipping you over to hold your thighs as he pressed his face into your neck, thrusting his hips. Your eyes rolled back, groaning loudly as the loud slaps of skin against skin filled your room. "Fuck, you feel so fucking good! Better than I could ever imagine, fuck!"

You whined as your nails dug into his back, Dave pulling away for just a second with a grin. "Who's fucking who's brains out now?"

taglist: 𓆩[@lem0ns77]𓆪   𓆩[@cecepop15]𓆪   𓆩[@memeorydotcom]𓆪   𓆩[@your-favorite-god]𓆪   𓆩[@xyzstar]𓆪  𓆩[@just-my-shit]𓆪   𓆩[@your-mom21]𓆪   𓆩[@c78r]𓆪   𓆩[@dizscreams]𓆪   𓆩[@asrt5]𓆪 𓆩[@xoxomoonlightbabe]𓆪

© asterias-record-shop

[aurorawritestoescape]

Birthday Surprise

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader x Tommy Miller

Tw: 18+ mdni smut, mfm, power imbalance (boss/employee), ‘sir’ kink, praise kink, tiniest bit of degradation, oral (f/m receiving), cum eating, unprotected piv (wrap it up obv), creampie, rimming, multiple orgasms, butt slapping (light), voyeurism, swearing, no use of y/n

Word count: 3,2k

A/n: thank you @noxturnalpascal 💖 for an amazing idea to write fics based on this PROMPT: Pick a Pedge Daddy character - Joel Miller, Frankie Morales, Dave York, etc. (it can be Canon or Non-Canon/AU/No Outbreak).

PPCU Daddy is surprised - and excited - to learn that the grad/postgrad student he hires to watch his child sometimes also works as a: stripper/dancer/cam-girl/onlyfans-model/dating-or-escort-service (or straight-up SW)

I added Tommy to the mix cos what’s better than one Miller boy? Yeah, two Miller boys😝

Other fics based on the prompt: Room 301 @milla-frenchy Dancing is a dangerous game @noxturnalpascal Webcam for beginners @iamasaddie

🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩

You’ve been doing stripping as a side job for a few months now. As a postgrad student you were broke and in debt. You needed money to help out with the tuition, which was unbearably high. On top of that your car broke down and you’ve been trying to save for a new one. One of your friends who’d done it told you that the money was good and the hours were flexible. So you decided to give it a shot.

The gig turned out to be great. You were often tipped generously and though the men were usually drunk and overly excited you’ve been lucky enough to be treated fairly well. They called you Diamond because of your sparkling silver costume and glittering boots.

Today you are shining at a birthday party. It’s a total sausage fest and everyone is excited about the headliner - you. The men are cheering you on as you’re giving your best lap dance to the man of the evening. The music is blaring while you are slowly taking off your sparking top before pushing your breasts together and swaying your hips seductively. You’re still wearing high silver boots and a tiny diamond-encrusted thong.

Everyone is already buzzed. Everyone except the birthday boy. He doesn’t seem to be drunk at all as his dark piercing eyes are sliding across your glitter-covered body with intent and hunger. Sometimes he gives his friends a little smile and laughs at their thirsty comments. But when his gaze returns to you his expression becomes focused and serious, one of a hunter whose unsuspecting prey is inching closer and closer, as he’s waiting for the right moment to strike. There is something hypnotizing about the man and you feel the magnetic pull every time your eyes meet.

You want him to want you. And judging by a big bulge in his jeans you’re doing great. You’re practically drooling over him as your hands are gliding over his broad shoulders, strong chest, running through his dark curly hair. After some time you see only him, and your heart flutters and core burns with desire.

You’re hovering over his lap, his face inches from your bouncing breasts as your hips move the way you’d ride him and your hands are holding onto his muscular shoulders. He wants to say something to you so you lean down bringing your ear to his plush lips. His breath tickles you and you giggle.

“Can I get a private dance?” he asks a little louder so you could hear him through the music. He tilts his head to the side to look into your eyes. He’s gorgeous. Older, just how you like them. A scent of whiskey and something sweet hits your nostrils and you feel yourself getting wet. Your pussy tingles and you both decide to give this guy whatever he wants tonight. You smile at him nodding your head, maybe a little too eager.

🪩🪩🪩

That’s how you end up on your knees in the VIP room, fully naked between his spread legs, his cock deep in your throat. You’ve never done anything like that with a client but you just couldn’t help yourself. You would be fired in a second if anyone found out but you feel that he’s not the one to kiss and tell. His body, his eyes, his confidence drive any rational thought away from your mind.

When you were sitting on his lap having discarded your thong and boots and framing his legs with yours, your pussy was throbbing so much for him it hurt. You rested your head on his shoulder, turned to him and whispered in his ear, “You can touch me if you want”.

He chuckled and asked if he was allowed to but his fingers were already caressing your glistening seam. A few moments later he was fucking you with his thick digits, his tongue licking into your mouth. He knew his way around a pussy and you came hard, making a mess of his jeans.

Now you are sucking on his ball rolling it in your mouth with your tongue and slowly jerking his cock. His jeans are opened and tugged down his hips, your hand is splayed on his lower belly covered with soft hair. He’s watching you with a soft smile, half lidded eyes blown and hazy. You’re enjoying yourself so much you feel you might come untouched just from sucking him off.

That’s when HE barges into the room apologizing for being late. You hear the gravelly voice and your heart drops into your stomach. You freeze glancing up at the birthday boy with horror on your face. Fuckfuckfuckfuck!!!! Fuck! You recognise that voice immediately. You raise your head before glancing back. Of course it’s him! The father of the girl you’ve been babysitting for a few weeks. You always loved kids so babysitting seemed like a great idea. Well, until now when two of your clients met.

Joel Miller was always kind and respectful yet a little grumpy. You never blamed him, a single parent who worked very hard to provide his daughter with the best life. He was a great father judging by how well adjusted and happy Sarah was.

He doesn’t look grumpy now. With his mouth agape, he’s staring at the two of you and mumbles, “Fuck, Tommy.” He raises one brow and runs a hand through his dark hair in a nervous gesture. His black T-shirt rides up showing a slither of his soft stomach and a happy trail. Suddenly you remember all the times he would come home sweaty and hot from working outside all day and you bite your lip.

You’re used to being naked in front of strangers so it takes you a minute to realize you need to cover yourself up.

“Oh my god, Mr Miller. Fuck.. I’m so sorry,” you get up looking around for anything to put on. Of course there’s nothing except your tiny thong and the boots so you just place your hands awkwardly on your mound and breasts and stand between Mr Miller and ‘Tommy’, whose cock is still out and hard. He’s not putting it away, just sits there proudly. Your eyes are darting between the two men.

“You’re interrupting, bro,” Tommy says with a nonchalance in his voice. Now it’s your time to be surprised cos the man looks almost bored.

Joel visibly collects himself and comes up to you.

“I see that,” he says, looking you up and down and then turning to his brother, “Do you know that you’re getting blown by my babysitter?”

Joel looks back to you and brushes your arm with his big warm hand. You shiver at the touch.

“No shit! Babysitter?” Tommy sits up, finally expressing some interest. Joel hums and his brother chuckles and leans back again, holding his still hard cock in his hand, “Got yourself a new one?”

“Yeah… and I seemed to hit the jackpot,” Joel replies with a little smile but his eyes on you are darker, hungrier than you’ve ever seen him. Your skin erupts in goosebumps and you feel yourself like a bunny circled by hungry wolves.

“Mmm.. Mr Miller, I can explain,” you stutter nervously standing there like a school girl being scolded by a headmaster. You want to tell him that you don’t usually walk around sucking your clients off but Joel interrupts you, “No need to explain anything, sweetheart. Work is work. You did nothing wrong.”

His deep smooth voice makes your clit twitch and you almost gasp when he cups your cheek and lowers his face closer to yours, “I know you’re a good girl.”

“And full of surprises,” Tommy adds with a smirk looking at you almost differently, with more intrigue in the gaze and his cock twitches in his hand.

You glance up at Joel and his eyes slide to your lips and yours do the same. Your mouths are so close you’re breathing each other's air. His thumb is rubbing your cheek. Suddenly you jerk when Tommy coughs interrupting whatever is happening between you and your employer. Joel straightens up and his hand leaves your face.

“Ya know what,” he says walking to the chair across the room, placing it a couple meters away from you and taking a seat, “Don’t stop on my account.”

Your jaw drops and you freeze, hardly believing your own ears.

“You heard him, baby. We don’t need to stop,” Tommy repeats his brother's words as your shock is being replaced by excitement.

You hesitate at first but the idea of sucking a guy off when his brother is watching is so filthy that the burning in your core reignites again and you feel yourself gush.

You drop your arms exposing yourself to the men, come up to Tommy again and retake your previous position on your knees between his legs. You take his cock from him and turn your head back to Joel. His legs are spread, big hand resting on his inner thigh as he’s watching you.

You swallow loudly and turn back to Tommy. He must have read the anxiety on your face as he takes your chin between his fingers and gives you a warm smile.

“Don’t be shy, baby. My brother just wanna watch. Let’s give him something to remember when you come babysit for him next time.”

You blush, biting your lip and dropping your head. It can’t be happening. It feels like a weird wet dream. But you see this gorgeous weeping cock in your hand and your mouth salivates. And you would be lying if you said that you didn’t fantasize about Mr Miller bending you over his kitchen counter after your shift and fucking you senseless. So you bend down and kitten-lick Tommy’s fat tip. The man shamelessly moans and your pussy tingles at the sound.

You hear Joel’s groan as he must have a great view of your ass and pussy. The depravity of this situation makes your mind hazy and you arch your back wiggling your ass a little as you’re aching to be touched again. Your hand leaves Tommy’s balls which you were caressing and snakes down to your naked mound. You rub yourself there and then dip your fingers between your wet folds. A pathetic whimper escapes your lips muffled by Tommy’s cock and he twitches against your tongue stimulated by the vibrations.

“I think my naughty babysitter needs some attention, little brother,” Joel rumbles behind you and you hear a creak of the chair and his steps.

Parting from Tommy’s cock with a pop you turn your head and see Joel getting down on one knee next to you. You’re leaning on Tommys thighs, your elbows on his knees.

“You’ve been so good for my brother, sweetheart,” Joel says in a gentle voice, putting his hand on your back. You feel his calloused palm sliding down to your ass and then coming back up to your shoulder blades. “Has he made you come, baby?”

You nod your head staring up at him with slightly parted mouth. You still can’t believe you’re naked in front of the man you’re babysitting for and his brother. With the latter's precum on your lips.

“I’m a gentleman, Joel,” Tommy chimes in sounding offended. He glides his fingers along your neck, “Ladies always come first.”

Joel smirks and leans closer to your face not minding the stiff length of his brother just inches from you both and whispers in your ear, “Ya want another one?”

He presses his lips to your cheek and kisses you before traveling down to your jaw and neck. He grabs a fistful of your hair and holds you in place as he starts sucking a hickey into the delicate skin of your neck. You shut your eyes with a set of moans and tilt your head back for him.

“Don’t damage the goods, Joel”, Tommy jokes and the degrading remark sends you further into the depths of arousal.

“Please, make me come, Mr Miller,” you plead and both brothers seem to love it. Joel’s groaning against your neck while Tommy takes his cock from you and begins jerking his shaft.

Joel parts from you and you feel him gently pushing your head down. You follow his wordless command, lowering your face to his brother's crotch.

Joel guides you and when you open your lips he impales your mouth on Tommy’s cock.

“Yeah, just like that. Suck on it, sweetie, give my brother the best birthday present.”

Joel brushes the hair away from your face and watches you work Tommy’s cock for some time. His eyes are glued to your every move, every bob of your head, every swipe of your tongue around Tommy’s tip. The younger brother is holding your head on the other side and rhythmically raising his hips slowly fucking your mouth.

All this time Joel’s touch doesn’t leave you, he caresses your head, rubs your back and sides, until his hand snakes to your front and he grabs your breast and twitches your nipple. Your slick is dripping down your legs now and you can’t take it anymore.

With your lips still wrapped around Tommy’s cock you turn slightly to Joel and glance up at him. He’s panting and his half lidded eyes are clouded with arousal. He reads your expression and not being able to control himself any longer too, he orders, “Get up, sweetheart. But keep sucking.”

You do as you’re told placing your feet on the floor and standing up still keeping Tommy in your mouth. Joel gets up with a groan and walks behind you.

“Mr Miller’s gonna take good care of you, baby,” Tommy promises with a smirk and holds your arm to keep you steady in a new position. “Make sure she moans around my dick, bro,” he says louder and Joel hums in response.

“I know how to take care of a girl, little brother, don’t worry,” Joel quips, standing behind you as his clothed hard-on is pressed to your ass. You feel his fingers squeeze your cheeks and he gives you a light slap. You jerk and Tommy flinches, as your mouth moves on his cock a little too roughly. Joel chuckles and Tommy scolds him him,

“Be gentle, Joel, she’s got a mouth full of my cock.”

Joel laughs a little but his next movements are careful and soft. His big hands glide along your sides and down to your bottom again, rubbing your skin and making you clench around nothing. You wiggle your ass a little in invitation and he reads your signal.

“Look at her, Tommy. Can’t wait to be fucked by my fat cock while sucking on another dick… ahh..she’s gonna get a glowing recommendation from me.”

Both men laugh and you feel your pussy ache even more when they’re talking about you as if you’re not there and you place your feet further apart. “Ya wanna come on my cock, sweetheart, or my mouth?” Joel asks and you hastily part from Tommy and breathe out, “Cock, sir.”

“Fuck, baby,” Joel rumbles and you hear him unbuckling his belt and discarding it on the floor. You expect him to pierce you with his member any second now but you hear shuffling and then his warm lips kiss your pussy from behind. You gasp and Tommy smiles, gently pressing your head back down, “She’s like a little doe, so easy to spook.”

You lick the underside of the younger brother’s cock while Joel is behind you, peppering your pussy with open mouth kisses. Then his tongue slips between your folds and travels from your clit to your entrance. He spreads your pussy with his thumbs and your core burns with desire. You’re completely exposed, and you whine remembering that it’s Joel Miller who is about to make you fall apart while you’re blowing his brother. Joel’s movements are sure and effective and very soon your belly and thighs are trembling with an upcoming orgasm.

Mr Miller surprises you again when his tongue glides up to your asshole and he gives it a kiss after spreading your cheeks. You moan loudly not being afraid to be heard as the music is still blaring behind the closed door.

Tommy and Joel hear you well though and the oldest brother parts from your ass to lightly slap your cheek, getting your attention, “Ya like it, sweetheart? Will you let Mr Miller fuck your asshole with his tongue?”

“Yeah,” your whine, the sound muffled by cock. You roll your eyes in ecstasy and Tommy lifts your head by the hair a little to see the results of his brother’s actions on your face. Meanwhile Joel is licking your tight ring as his fingers rub circles on your throbbing clit. When he points his tongue at your little hole and starts poking it moving it deeper little by little you almost sob from the pleasure and lose your rhythm. You can’t concentrate on sucking any longer so Tommy pulls you off his cock.

“Hold it wide for me, baby” he commands, keeping you face above his red swollen tip and you do as you’re told, darting out your tongue. Your whimpers and moans fill the room accompanied by the squelching sounds of Tommy jerking his cock and Joel’s slurping on your tight hole.

Tommy’s eyebrows are furrowed and his gaze runs over your face, breasts and then your ass, being eaten out by his brother. The view takes him over the edge and he shoots his cum on your chin, lips and tongue. You close your mouth around his tip and drink everything he’s giving you. When Tommy pats your hand, you part from him and rest your head on his thigh, inches from his semi hard cock.

Joel gets up with a grunt and you finally feel his tip nudging at your dripping entrance. He impales you on his cock in one swift move and you scream when his tip hits your cervix. He’s big and your pussy aches trying to accommodate his thick length. You close your eyes and focus on the way his cock is gliding inside you, rubbing your sweet spot. A couple more thrusts and your whole body is shaking, ecstasy coursing through your veins, clit twitching and walls contracting. Your juices flow around Joel’s cock and he groans, “Yeah, good girl.. Fuck, squeeze Mr Miller’s cock.”

He begins thrusting into you vigorously and Tommy keeps you in place holding you tight while his brother starts pumping you full of his hot cum. Joel’s rough hands are gripping your hips leaving handprints on your skin while his cock is squirting seed deep into your pussy.

“Doing so good, baby,” Tommy coos at you, while you're nothing but a trembling shaking mess. He’s watching you both unravel and his cock twitches.

When your climax subsides and Joel stills and pulls out you fall on your knees between Tommys legs.

Both men help you up and Joel puts you like a rag doll on Tommy’s lap. You feel Joel’s cum leak out of you on his brother’s jeans.

You lean on the chest of the birthday boy resting your head on his broad shoulder, completely spent, drunk on endorphins and the depravity of what you’ve just done. Tommy lights up a cigarette as Joel gathers your clothes and boots and comes up to the two of you. He hands them to you and then caresses your cheek with a thumb giving you a warm smile,

“I’ll see you on Monday, sweetheart. Bring your costume.”

You smile back with a nod and he leaves.

🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩

Thank you for reading!

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!💖

Tag list: @missannwinchester @harriedandharassed @bbyanarchist @nervousmumbling

I’d love to rec the fics that have been feeding my obsession with the Miller brothers combo! Check them out if you haven’t yet!♥️🥵

The Wrong Way @romana-after-dark

Leopard Print @toxicanonymity

Stuffing @toxicanonymity

At the Table @toxicanonymity

Liquid Gold @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Two Hands to Hold @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Too Depraved 4 TV @bonezone44

Smack My B*tch Up @milla-frenchy

[slutforsilverfoxes]

Secret’s Out

[A/N: Some fluff in honor of our favorite man’s birthday 🖤]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x wife!reader

—————

You love celebrating your partner’s birthday. An excuse to pamper your favorite person more so than usual, and they can’t refuse because it’s their special day? Amazing.

Your partner, on the other hand, is less than enthusiastic about the day. “It’s just another day,” he always tries to play it off. “Another year around the sun gifting me with more grays and wrinkles to prove it.”

You’ve adjusted to his understated manner, toned down your celebratory whims to make his day special in smaller, less overt ways.

“I’m not making a big deal about it,” you’d promised your first birthday together with a smile, catching the raised eyebrow you were greeted with when he spotted the lavish breakfast spread out over the kitchen table.

“Still not making a big deal. You needed a new one,” was your excuse some birthdays later when he opened a carefully wrapped box to find a new watch with words from your wedding vows engraved on the back.

“This one is so not-a-big-deal,” you’d affirmed just last year, presenting him with two tickets to a five day island getaway. “It’s November in DC and I miss the sun, that’s all.”

And so the years have gone, keeping Aaron Hotchner’s birthday under wraps much to the chagrin of his team. Garcia, to her credit, has made a Herculean effort to keep the date quiet as requested, or perhaps she’s sworn everyone to secrecy by now. Inexplicably, Aaron finds a single cupcake waiting on his desk annually.

Aaron’s birthday was a quiet affair, that is, until this year.

The case your husband had been on had spanned many more days than expected, and you’d been forced to postpone the family trip you had planned to celebrate his birthday. So here you are, waiting in his office for the team’s return. Chatter suddenly breaks the silence of the bullpen, the unmistakable sound of Aaron’s baritone mixed with the many voices of your found family.

The kids are tearing out of the office before you even rise from the couch.

Your toddler reaches the BAU team first, and Aaron’s quick to drop his go-bag in favor of catching the pig-tailed bundle of energy midair as she squeals out an excited, “Happy birthday, Daddy!”

Aaron’s eyes widen in shock, and your stomach swoops at the FBI’s best kept secret being so blatantly revealed by the littlest Hotchner.

But then Aaron’s propping your daughter on his hip and pressing kisses to her cherubic cheeks while she giggles at the onslaught, and Jack is wrapping his arms around his dad’s waist, mumbling a “Welcome home, Dad, happy birthday,” into his dress shirt, and Aaron is squeezing both of your kids like their very presence imbues life into him, and all is right in the world. You take note of money quietly exchanging hands behind Aaron greeting your kids. Evidently, Garcia had kept the date a secret.

The team splits up to drop luggage and paperwork on their desks, and Aaron looks up to the stairs leading to his office then, his smile somehow growing wider when he spots you standing there, a blush dotting your cheeks. “You know there’s no stopping these two when their hero comes home,” you offer sheepishly, and he angles his head to beckon you closer. You’re by his side in an instant and pressing a kiss to his lips even as your children- spurred on by Uncle Derek and Uncle Spencer- protest with a chorus of ews and elaborate gagging noises.

“You were just giddy about me kissing you,” Aaron points out to your daughter whose face is screwed up in feigned disgust from her front row seat on Daddy’s hip.

“It’s not the same as you kissing Mom,” Jack huffs with the gusto of an all-knowing pre-teen, so his dad rolls his eyes and pecks your lips again for good measure.

“May I propose,” Rossi interjects, one hand on your shoulder and the other on your husband’s, “dinner at my place to celebrate?” Aaron opens his mouth to protest, but Dave lifts a hand and clarifies, “Ah- celebrate closing the case, Aaron. It’s not all about you.” He shoots you a wink and you bite your lip to hide a smile.

“Up to you, birthday boy,” you murmur, lightly running your hand across his chest, but your kids and his team are looking so hopeful that Aaron knows it’s really not up to him, after all.

“Okay,” he relents with a laugh, nodding his head. “Thank you, Dave, that’s really kind of you to offer.”

The night turns out to be an absolute blast full of good food, great drinks, and wonderful company. Your little one is currently sound asleep in her Uncle Spencer’s lap while he stumps her older brother and JJ and Will’s sons with his latest magic trick. Penelope and Derek are out on a secret mission (they’re getting a cake) that Aaron is completely in the dark about (he totally knows). The rest of you are scattered about the living room, chatting and sipping your drinks while you await the secret agents’ return, and Sinatra croons on in the background about having a love to keep him warm. Sidling up to Aaron, you rest your head on his sturdy shoulder and murmur a simple, “Hey.”

He turns to press his lips to your forehead and utters a, “Hey, you,” in return.

“Sorry the cat’s out of the bag after all these years,” you say, absentmindedly toying with the collar of his tie where he’s loosened it a bit.

“Oh, honey, don’t apologize,” Aaron admonishes lightly, shifting his position so he can snake an arm around you and you can settle more snugly into his side. “Honestly, I’m amazed we kept it under wraps for so long.”

You let your hand drift further upwards, now tracing a little heart into Aaron’s cheek with your index finger. Emily clearly used a heavy hand in her role as bartender. “Really?”

Your husband curls his hand around your wrist to guide it closer to his mouth and presses a kiss to the pad of your finger. “Really,” he affirms. “Y’know, these guys had a bet going about my birth date but…” He leans closer like he’s about to let you in on a secret, and you sit up straighter, all business. “Dave and I had a bet going about who would spill first. That little chatterbox,” he murmurs, inclining his head toward your sleeping toddler, “or her chatterbox mom.”

“I resent that.”

“I know.”

With a huff, you kiss his cheek, then his nose, and then his lips. “But I’ll let it slide since it’s your birthday.”

The lights in the living room grow dim then, and Penelope enters with a small cake in hand, her face lit up by a ring of candles. “Derek said we shouldn’t mortify you by singing, but I couldn’t resist at least getting candles, sir.” She sets the cake down on the coffee table before taking a step back as the rest of your family gathers around. Your little girl barely stirs in Spencer’s arms when he approaches, while Jack slips into the spot next to his dad and instructs, “Make a wish!”

“Oh, buddy,” Aaron laughs warmly, looking around at your big family with a smile before kissing the top of his head and affectionately squeezing your knee, “what more could I wish for?”

__________

AH tags 🖤 @gothwifehotchner @iyv-ray24 @mrs-ssa-hotch @criminalskies @callm3c0nfus3d

[iheartjameshetfield]

dave being into close contact positions during sex… he’s pressed to ur back, got your legs over his shoulders, chest to chest, hand holding etc <3333

hold on i’m doing backflips

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHFHSJFHSJDHAKDHSJ

god just imagine having dave behind you…him pressing kisses from your lower back all the way to your neck, burying his face there. him wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you into him as he rests his chest against your back, murmuring things like “taking me so well” or “fuck yes just like that”

or or or or

having your legs over his shoulder, placing a kiss on your calf and massaging the backs of your thighs. his thrusts are slow yet hard when brings his arms around your legs, looking down to see where the two of you connect

ORRRRRRRR

having him on top of you, his weight crushing you in the best way possible. your lips never part from his unless it’s to breathe, and even then you’re disappointed at the brief loss of contact. just imagine the two of you lost in each other, tongues and teeth clashing as he brings you to your orgasm. his hands clutch yours and he brings it to the sides of your head. the pace of his thrusts increase while your moans are muffled by his while you come undone. you cry while holding an even tighter grip on dave’s hands, lifting your head to deepen the kiss.

after you calm down, dave would probably lay on his back, bringing you along with him. he would play with your hair, praise you, tell you how good you were for him and how amazing tonight was<333

i just know he’s so sweet and loving in bed i need him :((

[benedictscanvas]

Nobody on the BAU team believes Jack Hotchner when he says his father’s new girlfriend is rich and famous. Then they meet her.

A theoretical opening to an Aaron Hotchner x f1 reader if you’re interested, but also no pressure if you don’t vibe with it. I don’t want anything too specific, just happy chosen family shenanigans. Sending all the love to you 💛💛

cute cute cute. as i'm writing this i'm pretty sure i've seen this type of thing before but i cannot remember for the life of me who wrote it! so pls let me know if anyone knows and i'll tag them. sending you all the love back anon <3 || 1.5k words, fem!reader

"Jack, come on man! Has your dad put you up to this?"

"No!" the boy insists, then lowers his voice again, "Dad told me not to tell you, but I couldn't help it."

Derek feels his chest swell with pride until he remembers what Jack's trying to convince him. He narrows his eyes at him again.

"Dave then? Trying to pull one over on me? Just because I switched out his-"

"Derek! I'm telling you the truth. I even have proof," Jack said, eyebrows raised, waiting for Derek to take the bait. His proof was poor at best, but he needed to talk to someone about this.

"Go ahead, kiddo."

Jack pulled out his phone, tapping furiously. Derek waited impatiently, even though he was an inch more intrigued than he had been 30 seconds ago.

When Jack showed him the blurriest photo in existence, that hope was snuffed out immediately.

"Okay, I'm leaving."

Jack grabbed at Derek's arm to make him stay, let him explain and it was enough to catch the attention of the rest of the BAU at their desks. Hotch was in his office, oblivious to the scene, one he would have put a stop to before it started.

"What's Morgan done this time?" JJ asked, making her way over with a smirk. Spence and Emily were listening from their desks too and before Jack could answer, Derek was already speaking.

"No no no, you're not blaming this one on me. Jack's claiming our very own Hotch is dating the Y/N Y/L/N. You know, she's an actress?"

Emily gasped.

"She's not just an actress, she's the actress, thank you Derek. I worship that woman."

"She's pretty amazing," Spencer added.

"Derek," Jack practically whined, "Dad's gonna kill me. I told you in secret!"

"Okay, but you're not serious Jack."

"You can't be."

"I am! So serious. So so serious that you all have to swear you're not gonna tell my dad about this conversation," Jack said, and upon seeing the amused looks of the people that were practically family, he glared at them, "Swear!"

"I swear, Jack," Spencer took pity on him first, but soon JJ and Emily did too, seeing the flush that had travelled up the young boy's neck. He may have grown a lot in his first few years of being a teenager but he kept the same tells that they could all read. Even Derek.

"Alright, alright, I swear too. But when I find out what you're trying to pull, I'm gonna pull something right back. You'll never see it coming, kid."

"Sounds like fighting talk, Jack, you need me to handle this for you?" came a teasing voice, silky smooth, from behind the group. Jack was the only one facing your way, and his face lit up at the sight of you. He went to stand at your side as the rest of them turned to see you in all your glory, smiling at them with that grin that they'd all seen so many times before.

On red carpets. Or movie theatre screens. Never in their office.

"Nah, you're alright Y/N," Jack said, greeting you with a brief but intricate handshake the others couldn't catch in time, "This is Derek, you've heard so much about, and he doesn't believe you're dating my dad."

"Ah, Derek Morgan," you said, enjoying the shock on his face as you said his full name, "You're right to be skeptical, you know. This one ate the last of my cereal this morning, though he swears it wasn't him."

Jack retorts instantly and just like that, the two of you have entered easy banter that the others can't help but sit and stare at. The conversation stops short when Jack bursts out in raucous laughter and you're grinning again, but you quickly turn back to the others.

"I'm so sorry," you say, and it's genuine now without the playful edge, "To show up like this, unannounced, and not even introduce myself. When I practiced this in my head, just know I blew you all away with my first impression."

They all rewarded you with a chuckle and it was enough to put you more at ease.

"I don't think you really need to introduce-"

"Y/N?"

Emily was cut off by another voice behind the group, this time one they knew well from their day to day lives. When they turned, comically in time with one another, they found Hotch at the top of the stairs, brow furrowed as he took the steps downward and walked towards them all.

Or, more accurately, towards you.

"I thought we were meeting you there?" he asked, voice low once he reached you and getting lower still as he murmured, "You don't have to do this, you know."

"I know. I want to," you assure him, eyes all sparkle as you look at him and reach out to briefly squeeze his arm, "Promise."

He nods once, like he's made up his mind. When he turns to the others, he's almost smiling. Spencer finds it a little eerie.

"Everyone, this is Y/N Y/L/N. My-" he stops short, and doesn't realise the entirety of his team is revelling in him being so flustered, "We're seeing each other."

"I'm his girlfriend," you supply, shaking your head at Hotch but you can't keep the smile from your face, "He just hates saying it."

"No," he grinds out, looking at you with nothing but fondness despite his warning tone, "It just doesn't cut it. It's not enough."

"What would you prefer?" Derek butts in, "Your significant other? Life partner? Lover?"

"Enough. She's important to me, let's leave it at that, shall we?"

Derek's suggestions had made you chuckle but Hotch's assertion had made you positively beam. JJ could read it all over her face. She'd moved past being starstruck and into being incredibly happy for Hotch.

"Jack I think we all owe you an apology man," Derek began, then winced and corrected himself when Emily elbowed him right in the ribs, "And especially me. I really thought you were kidding me."

"Jack, you told them?"

Hotch's voice is still stern, but this time directed towards his son. Derek winces again, knowing he's put his foot in his mouth as Jack's shoulders slump. Still glowing, you come to his rescue.

"Oh, Aaron, he's just happy for you," you say placatingly, a hand at his back, a reassurance, before you turn to the team, "It was me who wanted to keep this quiet, not Aaron. I was trying to protect him from my life, but I think I kept it up a little too long. That's why I'm here."

Spencer thinks Hotch might be glowing too. You, you're all ethereal anyway, and there's the essence of something angelic about you, but you seem to have pulled Hotch into your orbit. He's definitely smiling now, just a little. Spencer is trying not to frown at the difference of it all.

"You don't mind that I told them?"

"Not even a bit, Jackaroo," you chuckle when he rolls his eyes fondly at the nickname, "Been wanting to show your dad off for an awful long time, really."

It's cloying, really, the way you hang onto his forearm as you say it, but he's drinking up every drop you send his way. He even goes as far as to rest a hand on your own arm in return, and keeps you close.

"Other way round, sweetheart," he mutters, in some vain hope only you will hear him. He doesn't get his wish. As soon as somebody sighs wistfully, he's stiff again, back straight, "But I think we've shown off enough for one day. Lunch?"

Jack nods enthusiastically, still seeming relieved that you've helped him avoid any scolding, not that Hotch is very good at that, surprisingly. You nod too, sending a last sweet smile to the whole team and insisting that now they've met you, they won't be able to get rid of you. Another round of chuckles.

Emily insists they won't want to get rid of you and she's a little too eager. A little too superfan. If you notice, you don't show it, only saying goodbye to her with an extra warm hug that she can't shake off.

The three of you head off, you still hanging off Hotch's arm, your cheek now smushed against his shoulder. But he's silent, and you're blabbering away with Jack again, more laughter. When they get into the elevator and Derek cranes his head, he can see the real smile on Hotch's face and he gets a little choked up.

"Well shit," he says to the others, coughing it away, "That's me not getting any real work done today."

"You can say that again," somebody says, and soon they've devolved into sitting on desks and gossiping right into the afternoon.

When Dave and Penelope trudge back in after their early lunch to the commotion of everyone's reactions after you'd left, Dave simply asks them how they didn't know sooner. They're not surprised.

And if Penelope cries a little at the thought of just missing you, you'll never know. She has the others sworn to secrecy.

(hotch doesn't return at all)

if you'd like to request something, please do so here! i'd love to hear from you sunflower <3

[boldlyvoid]

Christmas Cookies

Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Summary: Spencer's neighbour gives him a plate of whatever she makes her family for dinner most nights. When he comes home to see smoke bellowing out of her kitchen window, the last thing on his mind is some burnt parchment paper under her Christmas cookies.

Warnings: mutual pining, divorced reader, mom reader, food mentions, cooking, flirting

word count: 2.2k

When he got back from prison, his apartment didn’t feel like home anymore.

It felt tainted… it felt wrong to be there where so many terrible memories took place. He’s been through so much in these 4 green walls and now he can’t stomach being there anymore. 

He spends some time at JJ’s, in her spare room. He sleeps on Penelope’s couch and in the guest house at Daves but he hates feeling like a burden. So, during his mandatory month off, he packs everything up, terminates his lease and rents a new apartment in a tiny complex closer to work. And on the first night, he was there, unboxing everything, he smelled something… something delicious. 

He didn’t pack any food cause he didn’t really have any in the cupboards when he was packing and he hasn’t had time to go to the grocery store yet. So the smell makes his stomach growl, so he follows the smell. Thinking that his neighbour must’ve just got a delivery because it smelled so powerful. 

He knocks on the door, a little nervous but too hungry to care. And a little kid answers the door, probably no older than Jack. “Hi?” 

“Andrew!” A woman yells from inside the house and comes rushing to the door with a dishtowel in her hands. “How many times have I told you not to answer the door?” 

“She’s right,” Spencer agrees with her. “Sorry, I just moved in next door and I wanted to know what that smell is? It smells amazing?” 

“Oh,” the woman softens. “I’m making Carne Asada tacos for dinner…” 

“Oh, oh, I thought maybe you ordered something in 'cause the smell is so strong out here it’s just amazing… and you make it yourself?” 

She nods, a beautiful smile on her face, “I do… actually, we have a lot here, would you like some?” 

“Oh, no, I can’t impose,” he instantly feels bad. 

“I insist! Just wait here, and I’ll put some in a Tupperware and you can bring the dish back when you’re done?” She agrees 

“Okay,” he agrees. 

And that’s how it starts. 

Every few days she brings him over some dinner, he tries a plethora of new dishes and baked goods and it goes on for months. Everyone has noticed the change in him, the tummy he’s gotten from eating home-cooked meals and the smile on his face when he heads out right at 5 to catch the 5:15 train home. 

It’s snowing as he walks from the train station to their apartment building. He can see her kitchen window is open and steam is barrelling out… she’s cooking up a storm today and their building's fire alarm is so sensitive. 

But there’s too much steam, it almost looks like smoke. So he rushes inside, double-timing the steps and almost colliding with her door as he knocks on it. Her son, Andrew, opens it with a smile. “hey— are you okay?” 

“Are you? Is your mom?” He worries. “It looked like there was a fire in the kitchen from the street?” 

He shrugs and lets Spencer in and he rushes right to the kitchen. He knows where it is because the layouts of their apartments are exactly the same. And when he gets there, she’s covered in flower and fanning a tray of cookies where the parchment had caught fire in the oven. “Spencer?” She asks as she sees him. “What are you—

“There was smoke coming from the window as I walked up to the building,” he explains, hand on his chest as he finally catches his breath. “I was scared you had a fire.” 

“Well, I kinda did,” she grits her teeth and panic smiles. “This is the last time I get the cheap parchment paper from the dollar store.” 

“Yeah that doesn’t sound smart…” he agrees, searching the countertops for the packaging. He picks up the box of parchment paper and reads the back. “It’s only good up to 250 degrees, your cookies are at 375 so yes, they’re going to burn… I have some real expensive parchment that came with a gift basket when I moved in, do you want it?” 

“You’d be okay with giving it to me?” She swoons a bit. 

He nods, “Yeah, it’s not like I can bake.” 

“Do you want some cookies? I can make you any that you want?” She offers in return. 

“Whatever you’re making now, I’d love to taste test?” 

“You’ve got a deal.” 

He rushes back to his place, puts his things away and checks his hair in the mirror before grabbing the parchment paper and heads back over. He was told before he left that he didn’t need to knock, so he doesn’t. It feels weird, but he walks right in and hands her the parchment and she hands him a naked gingerbread cookie. 

“Sorry, he’s not decorated yet… You don’t have any allergies, right?” She asks. “I can’t believe I’ve been feeding you for months and never asked that.” 

He laughs, “I’m just slightly lactose intolerant, it’s nothing serious.” 

“Oh, good,” she’s so relieved. 

He takes a bite of the cookie and almost melts, “oh my god?” 

“You like it?” 

“Like it?” He exaggerates. “It’s one of the best cookies I’ve ever had in my life! Holy cow…” 

“thank you,” she swoons again. “You can have some to take home?” 

“Thank you… but why are you making so many?” 

“Drew has a holiday party at school and needs enough for 36 kids,” she explains. “I’m also going to make some specifically for his teacher as her gift for the year.” 

“I loved giving my teachers gifts when I could.” 

“Do you want to help?” She offers, pointing at their kitchen table where there are some deconstructed boxes waiting to be assembled. “You could put those together for me?” 

“I’d love to!” He finishes his cookie and takes a seat, still facing her so he can watch her work around the kitchen. He thinks she’s magnificent, he’d never want to miss a smile or a yawn or a nose scrunch or anything… she’s so pretty. He loves to look at her. 

He has a ph.d in engineering so putting together gift boxes isn’t the hardest thing in the world, it’s making sure they still look pretty when he’s done what he’s worried about. He tapes them into place and concentrates so hard he doesn’t even notice that she’s made another batch of cookies while he’s been nose-deep in cardboard, even with the wonderful smell wafting around. 

“What are you making now?” 

“Chai sugar cookies,” she smiles. “This artist I like posted a recipe and I’ve wanted to try them… so, why not? If I don’t like them I can give them away.” 

“Smart,” he agrees. “They smell amazing though, I’m sure they’ll be delicious too.” 

“They have to cool for a bit,” she shares, taking out a thing of cling film and wrapping it up to go in the fridge. “They’ll be in there for 30 minutes.” 

“Have you guys had dinner yet?” Spencer asks because it’s almost 6 and she’s made nothing but cookies. 

“It was going to be left overnight… but I don’t have that much here,” she teases. “We might just get a pizza.” 

“I’ll get it,” Spencer offers. “You’ve fed me so much, let me repay the favour?” 

“Are you sure?” She worries, “Are you okay for it?” 

He laughs, “Yeah… yeah I’m good.” 

“I just thought you’re in the same little shitty apartments as us…” 

“I work for one of the most important units in the FBI,” he smirks, not wanting to brag but… “Believe me, I’ve got this.” 

“Did I hear pizza?” Drew asks from the doorway. 

“You did,” Spencer teases. “You wanna come with me to pick it up?” 

“Can I?” He begs his mom. 

She nods, “Yeah, just, don’t let him convince you he needs more than just pizza.” 

Spencer can’t make any promises. 

He has to grab his coat and his wallet from his apartment before they go. Drew gets all dressed up for the snow and then the two of them head out down the street. “So, how’s things?” Spencer asks, trying to make conversation. 

“Good… I’m excited for Christmas.” 

“Me too,” he agrees. “What did you ask Santa for?” 

“I don’t believe in Santa anymore,” Drew laughs, “I’m 13.” 

“Oh… okay, then what did you ask your mom for?” 

“Not much, just the renewal for my Playstation game pass and some new headphones,” he explains. “I’ve got everything else I need, really.” 

“That’s really mature of you,” Spencer compliments. “I know kids your age would ask for everything under the sun if they knew their mom would do anything for them.” 

“She does so much for me, and now that we’re alone I don’t want to put too much pressure on her,” he shares. “I miss my dad but, I think she’s happier now that she left him.” 

“Do you see him often?” 

He shakes his head, “he’s in California with his other family… he was cheating on my mom.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he had no idea. They don’t really talk so how would he know? 

“It’s okay,” he shrugs it off. “You ever been married?” 

He shakes his head. “No, I’ve only had like 3 girlfriends in my whole life.” 

“Seriously? I had 3 last year,” Drew teases. 

“Of course you did,” Spencer just shakes his head. “Well, I was so weird growing up, I’m still weird now.” 

“Well, my mom likes you,” he bumps his shoulder against Spencer’s. “So you’re doing something right.” 

“She does?” He can’t believe it. 

“Duh?” He teases. “She makes sure she looks pretty before bringing you dinner every night that you’re home.” 

He blushes, “oh… I thought she just always looked pretty.”

“So you like her too?” Drew lights right up. “You should ask her out!” 

“And you’d be okay with that?” 

He nods enthusiastically, “I can even go eat in my room tonight so the two of you can just talk and hang out? Please, it would be the best Christmas gift I could give her to get her a boyfriend who’s actually nice and likes her.” 

“Yeah… yeah I can be that for her.” 

—

When they come back with two pizza boxes, dips and garlic knots, she just crosses her arms and sighs, “Drew…” 

“What? He offered!” He whines. 

“I did,” Spencer smiles. “It’s no big deal, now you’ll have more leftovers.” 

She just smiles, “Okay, well, come in and get a plate let’s get to eating.” 

Drew does just what he said he would, he finds a way to ditch them and head to his room and then Spencer is alone with the most beautiful woman ever. They talk about random things like living in the city and Christmas plans and how Drew is doing in school… but he just wants to ask her out. He stares at her lips and he wants to kiss her and learn all about her and then she notices. 

“What?” She asks, hiding her mouth. “Is there something—

“No… you’re just beautiful,” he swoons. Giving in completely. 

She smiles and her hand drops, “really?” 

He nods, “Really, really… would you want to go on a date sometime? I’m sure Drew can handle a few hours alone while we hang out and if not, my friend has a kid around his age he can meet?” 

“You have friends with a 13-year-old?” She’s so shocked. 

“Well, he’s 12 but yeah,” he nods. “He’s my godson.” 

“I would love to spend some more alone time with you… wherever you want to take me,” she adds, realizing that sounded a lot dirtier than she planned. “I mean—

“i get you,” Spencer teases, trying not to laugh. “My work has a Christmas party coming up if you want to come with me and share some of your burnt cookies?” 

She laughs this time, “Yeah, when I meet your friends they are getting fresh cookies.” 

“Okay, good,” he smiles. “Maybe we can go out before then too? I’d love to take you out to dinner… though nothing will be as good as what you can make.” 

“Then why don’t I make you my favourite meal and we can eat at your apartment?” She suggests. 

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” he agrees. “I’ll make sure it’s nice and romantic.” 

“The way you look at me is romantic enough,” she teases. 

“From the first time I saw you I knew I wanted more than just your cooking,” he assures. “I think you’re so kind and so pretty, I can’t believe I get to talk to you let alone the privilege of taking you out— even if it’s just across the hall.” 

“I don’t typically share food… but you were too cute to starve,” she teases again. 

“And now look at me!” He points down at his stomach. “I barely fit in my suit pants." 

“You look healthy… and scrumptious, might I add.” 

His brow goes up, “really? Well, thank you for helping me get here.” 

“I knew you’d be more handsome with some meat on your bones… you’re so good-looking it's honestly crazy that you’re into me,” she whispers, not wanting Drew to hear their flirting. “I like you so much, Spencer.” 

“The feeling is mutual.” 

“I’m free tomorrow if you are?” 

“and every day after that,” he assures that this thing between them is real and not just some random infatuation that will die off in a week. 

He wants her for as long as she’ll have him. 

General Taglist 

@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @buckleyhans @mrs-ssa-hotch @ssavanessa22

[davejadedaily]

Can we get an opposite version? Like, with Dave in the middle and Jade around him! Thank you!!! I love you art you’re so so cool and amazing and this blog brings me so much joy!!

JadeDave forever

142

[feyhunter78]

Chapter One - A dance between mortality and desire, between that which you already know and the seductive lure of the unknown in the shadows of the morgue. Miguel, your new coworker, has this irresistible pull and seems to have set his sights on you. You try to stay professional, stay strong, but sooner or later you know you’re bound to fall. A fic in which vampire Miguel has found his lost love (you) once more, and he won’t let anyone, or anything stop him from reclaiming you.

Ch 2

There’s something strange about your coworker, Miguel. Maybe it’s how comfortable he seems to be with the late hours, or how he never seems to eat? At least not where you can see him eating, not that you’ve been watching him, waiting to see if he eats, and yes, the morgue is not really the place to eat, it’s entirely unsanitary, but in the break room? That’s fair game.

All he seems to do is work, drink those weird power shakes he’s so possessive over, and work out? He’s got to work out, there’s no other explanation for why he’s so built.

“Y/N, you need any help with that cadaver?” Miguel asks, a brilliant smile aimed your way, he’s dazzling, teeth straight as a military cemetery, white enough to blind you and his lips...they’re perfect, like unfairly perfect.

He’s handsome, and he knows it. A ladies man, the city mortician office’s Don Juan. You still can’t get over how you caught him and Cheryl from accounting, necking behind the building. Well, almost caught him, you heard the sounds they were making and all but sprinted to your car, face burning. And if your subconscious replaced Cheryl with you while you slept that night, then that was nobody’s business.

“No, no, I’m almost done, just wrapping up my notes.” You tell him, waving your voice recorder in the air, the standard one that the city gives every mortician. The one that annoying ass Dave always breaks, which means every project you work on with him takes twice as long because you have to wait for him to type up and submit his notes manually.

“We’ve got it, Manuel, no worries.” Dave says, the deliberate mispronunciation of Miguel’s name makes you cringe, but Miguel doesn’t even flinch, merely nods and heads back into the hall.

“You know his name is Miguel, right?” You know Dave knows, but you remind him anyways.

“Miguel, Manuel, same difference,” Dave says, brushing you off. “He thinks he’s so great just because all the normies fawn all over him.”

Normies aka everyone not tasked with cutting open dead bodies for a living.

“He’s nice, and he does good work,” You say briskly, finishing up your notes and zipping the body bag back up. “Put this one back in the freezer, yeah?”

“Why are you defending him, you got a crush or something?” Dave asks, leaning onto the slab, wriggling his eyebrows.

“No, I just don’t want to be called as a witness when you get hit with a discrimination lawsuit.” You drawl, clicking off your recorder and slipping it in your lab pocket.

Dave holds up his hands in surrender. “Whoa, hey, hey, I’m not being racist or anything, I’m just hazing the new guy.”

“Since when do we haze?” You snort, locking the freezer once Dave slides the body back in.

“Since we started hiring pretty boys.”

“Oh, so you think he’s pretty. You sure you don’t have a crush on him?”

Dave makes a fake gagging sound. “Excuse you, I am loyal to my wife.”

“That poor woman.”

“Hey fuck you, y/n,” Dave sputters.

You laugh and pat his shoulder. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding, I’m sure you and your wife are very happy together.”

“We are, thank you. It’s actually our anniversary next week, fifteen years.”

You’re taken aback. You knew Dave was married, but you didn’t think he’d be married for that long. “Wow, that’s amazing, seriously, congratulations.”

He smiles and pulls out his phone, showing you dozens upon dozens of smiling photos of him and his family. “Thank you, thank you, I’m a lucky man. Wait, don’t you have a boyfriend? How long have you two been together?”

Oh yeah, your boyfriend… “Oh, umm, like almost a year.”

“Hey, that’s not too bad,” Dave smiles.

You cringe internally. Almost a year of feeling like maybe your boyfriend doesn’t actually like you, compounded by your fear of being alone, driving you to do whatever it took to keep him. “Yeah, yeah, he’s great.”

A loud crash, the sound of metal crashing to the floor, and a low swear draws your attention.

You and Dave rush out into the hallway to see Miguel trying to lift a massive filing cabinet up from the floor. It’s dented on one side, almost the size of a…fist?

“Miguel, shit man, what happened?” Dave asks, hurrying over to his side and helping him lift the cabinet back to its rightful place against the wall.

Miguel’s eyebrows are furrowed, his hair disheveled, the sleeves of his lab coat rolled up exposing his forearms, his large hands flexing and unflexing. “I—I don’t know, I was walking down the hall, and it just fell, nearly broke my foot.”

“I’m glad you’re not hurt.” You tell him, searching the bottom of the cabinet for any loose parts or crooked corners that might’ve contributed to the crash.

He smiles at you, that Don Juan, panty melting smile, his warm brown eyes focused solely on you, as if you’re the only person in the world, the only one worth paying any attention to. “I’m just glad it was me and not you—or Dave, I wouldn’t want either of you getting hurt.”

“Aw, Manuel, you care about us,” Dave teases, going right back to his hazing.

“We’re a team,” Miguel says simply, rolling his shoulders back.

For a moment you wonder what his back muscles look like underneath his coat, his shirts always seem so tight. Do they ripple under the fabric, is it stretched taut, his back droolworthy and broad?

“A team that’s finally heading home, isn’t that right, y/n?” Dave’s arm landing across your shoulders brings you back to reality.

“Yeah, yeah, closing time,” you say, hoping you weren’t blatantly staring at Miguel’s back.

“You two go ahead, I have some things I need to finish up.” Miguel says, waving you both off as he heads back to his office.

You drive home in the dark, warm streetlights lining the street, soft music playing from the stereo. Miguel never left with everyone else, he always stayed late, and was always there early, like before the sun got up early. You did not envy his sleep schedule.

Digging through your purse, you fish out your keys and unlock your apartment door, flicking on the lights and sighing happily. There’s nothing like finally getting home after a long day and just getting to relax. Nudging off your shoes, you go to heat up some leftovers, letting the mindless reality TV shows keep you semi-entertained until you feel sleep tugging at your limbs.

You go through the motions, shower, skincare, pajamas, make sure all the doors are locked, turn down the air conditioning, and turn off the lights. Settling into your bed, you toss and turn, that fist shaped dent in the filing cabinet still bothering you. Did you need to call maintenance, or file a complaint with the city to let them know? It’s not like they’d give your department a new cabinet just because it was a little damaged, but still, at least you can say you tried.

Finally, you begin to drift off to sleep, breathing evening out, your heart rate slowing, the stress of the day melting away. Your dreams come quickly, cotton candy sweet and nonsensical, until a familiar figure appears.

Miguel’s hand caresses your cheek, his voice low, murmuring something in a language you don’t understand. He pulls you closer, and you can feel the press of his skin against yours, the toned muscles beneath your touch.

“Mi tesoro, tócame.” Miguel whispers, taking your hand in his and sliding it down, down, down his chest, stopping at his waistband, the fabric soft, his skin burning. Trsl: My treasure, touch me.

You take hold of the waistband, fingers slipping beneath it, as Miguel dips his head down trailing his nose up your neck, inhaling deeply before groaning, his free hand a vice grip on your hip.

“Touch me.” He breathes, his lips against your ear, his hand guiding your lower, more smooth flesh meeting your fingertips.

You want to, you want to explore Miguel, to find out if the rumors are true, but a shrill ringing draws your attention away.

“Te quiero y/n, no dejes que otros me roben tu atención.” Miguel pleads, his voice low and desperate, the hand on your hip pulling you flush against him. Trsl: I want you, y/n, don’t let others steal your attention away from me.

But the ringing won’t stop, and soon you’re jolting awake, alarm clock blaring, the sun streaming in through your blinds.

You throw off your covers, cringing at the sticky wetness between your legs. Really y/n? That’s what gets you going?

After eating breakfast and getting ready for the day, you check your phone, a few texts from your friends, some work emails, and a voicemail from Todd.

Hey babe, so I’m out at this bar right, and the drinks are fucking great, but I was talking to these girls about our issues, you know your whole not really enjoying sex thing? And they gave me some great advice, I want to try it out next time, so tomorrow night I’ll be at your place, get that couch ready, we’re going to tear it up.

He talked to other girls about your relationship? About your intimacy issues? What the fuck? You start to type out an angry text message but delete it halfway through. He’s trying at least, and you did ask him to try.

Maybe you should just hear him out on this, maybe those girls gave him actual advice like: “stop violently rubbing her labia thinking it’s her clit or listen when she tells you where her clit actually is, or maybe don’t be a dick and just give up once you’ve finished, your girlfriend deserves to get off too.”

You type out a neutral response and send it, before tossing your phone in your bag and setting out for work.

This fic was inspired by @sassyposssumm's kinktober request which was such an interesting prompt that I knew it needed to be expanded on! Also since this is a vampire fic there will be some instances of slight dubcon, I'll put warning in the beginning for those chapters with *slight* details in case anyone is uncomfy and wants to skip.

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

[jhopezwrld]

spencer reid x famous!reader instagram au

liked by jennjareau, em.ily, penelopeee, and 1,435,601 others

therealyn: days off with him>>anything else

view all 61,721 comments

jennjareau: pls make sure he eats at least one vegetable while he’s with u

↳ therealyn: yes mom 🫡

iheartyn: not sure if im jealous of him or her…

penelopeee: i miss you queen come see me asap

↳therealyn: omw to ur house rn pen don’t move

arianagrande: mom and dad vibes

liked by chocolatethunder, em.ily, a_hotchner, and 20 others

spencerreid: I love you forever and ever, my superstar.

view all 10 comments

penelopeee: IM CRYING YOU GUYS ARE SO CUTE

paparossi: She’s a keeper. Proud of you kiddo ❤️

↳ spencerreid: Thank you, Dave :)

em.ily: y/n and spencer sittin in a tree… 😏

↳ spencerreid: I still don’t know what this means.

↳ therealyn: babe you’re such a grandpa omg

liked by spencerreid, em.ily, selenagomez, and 1,973,455 others

therealyn: my happy place. i love you all more than anything <3

view all 70,689 comments

roses_are_rosie: soooooo good 💓

↳ therealyn: love you ro 💐

chocolatethunder: Proud of you mama 😉❤️

spencerreid: You’re amazing. I love you.

↳ therealyn: i love you even more, spence

↳ ynbemygf: AWWWWW GOALS

liked by em.ily, chocolatethunder, paparossi, and 1,334,546 others

therealyn: dinner with my favs. 📸 by @ jennjareau ❤️

view all 61,409 comments

a_hotchner: It was great seeing you again 😊

↳ therealyn: you too!! 🤗

sabrinacarpenter: y/n babe i’m obsessed with you

spencerreid: ❤️

em.ily: you’re my new favorite

[jqhotchner]

quest

eleven

aaron had been gone for three days. he kept in contact with you through the case. with finally solving the case he was headed home to his family.

aaron sighs as he lays his head back on his seat. david noticed he was less stress. he was happy to see his friend was finally doing better.

david was glad you were home. aaron had been more stress and smiled less and less as the days went on.

seeing this more relaxed and comfortable aaron felt familiar.

“how’s yn and the kids?”

aaron looks at his friend. “they’re fine.”

dave gave him a look.

“they’re great. it’s just—”

“what is it? last we talked about it you said you two were great. going to counseling and everything. what’s wrong?”

“yeah, they are great. fantastic even! but she doesn’t know.”

“know what?”

aaron sighs. “she hasn’t seen the scars, dave. she doesn’t know the full story of foyet.”

dave hums understandably. he knew how insecure hotch was about the scars foyet left on him. all the stab wounds he’d have to see everyday for the rest of his life. aaron couldn’t bare looking at them himself. he feels weak whenever he sees himself.

“im guessing you two haven’t—”

aaron shakes his head. “no.”

“what’s stopping you from showing her?”

“fear,”

dave gives him a questionable look.

“fear of her seeing them and—i don’t know. not looking at me the same.”

“aaron, yn isn’t that kind of woman. she loves hard and loves you, and everyone around her, for who the are. she won’t see you any differently.”

deep down aaron knew this. but he couldn’t help the intrusive thoughts running through his head. he had to tell you, that he knew. it was the how he was confused over.

“you know what i say about scars.”

aaron smiles. “scars remind us where we’ve been,”

“they don’t have to dictate where we’re going.”

the two of them nod at one another before zoning off.

when aaron walked into his house he knew everyone would be sleep. he had hoped you’d be awake but wouldn’t be surprised if you’d fallen asleep yourself.

to his lucky stars you were awake. you smiles at your husband as he walks over and kisses your forehead.

“how’s my girl?”

“just missing your lovely husband.”

aaron chuckles quietly.

“you mind if i get ready for bed before you smother me in cuddles?” he half jokes. you giggle before nodding.

“go ahead.”

aaron took a quick shower. he made sure the door was locked. not ready for you to see all the stab wounds. once he was out he stared at his chest in the mirror.

he runs his hands over the permanent scars. he grabs his shirt. putting it on along with his boxers he leaves your shared bathroom.

aaron smiles once more. he climbs into bed and holds you close.

“missed you.” you whisper into his chest. aaron clears his throat.

“there’s something i didn’t tell you.”

you look into his eyes. noticing his nervousness you frown.

“what’s going on?” you sit up.

“before george foyet killed haley, before they went into witness protection, he found me. he was in my apartment. our apartment.”

you listen intensely.

“he was waiting to hurt me. i knew what he craved. fear. i wouldn’t give it to him. i refused. i think—i believe that’s what set him off more. i knew he wasn’t there to kill me. he had a bigger plan for that. but he needed me to hurt. to feel helpless,”

“aaron? what did he do?”

“remember how i told you he stabbed himself repeatedly?”

“god, aaron, he didn’t?”

aaron nods. “over and over and over. i barely made it. he called the police and they got me to the emergency room as soon as possible. they patched me up and everything. im—i was scared to tell you. scared for you to see. i didn’t want you to look at me—”

“no! aaron this isn’t your fault. it wasn’t your fault. he—he’s the one that hurt you. you’re so strong baby. so very strong.” you couldn’t help but cry.

he hold you, shedding a few tears himself. thankful he has such an amazing woman like you.

when you look him in the eyes you smiled at him like he was the only man on this planet. aaron smiles right back at you.

he leans forward before connecting your lips. the first kiss you two had in two years. it felt amazing. it was exciting.

aaron was still the best person you have ever kissed. he kissed you like you were the only girl in the world. and to him, you are.

when he pulls away he smiles once more. “i love you yn. im—im not there yet. i want to, trust me i do. but i just think we need a little more time until we get there.”

you nod understandably. it had been two whole years. you knew you’d wait a life time for aaron. and aaron would wait a lifetime for you.

“i understand. there is no rush. we have forever.”

aaron hums in agreement.

“goodnight, darling.”

“goodnight, aaron.”

if you wanna be added or unadded to any of my stories taglist please let me know

taglist:

@slut4ethan @zaddyhotch @rosiehale23 @whotfskai @shergoretzxx @vodkori @14buddy22 @ivebeenthearchersstuff @madesavage05

[foli-vora]

First of all

(I am sure I started following for the Dave/Marcus series)

With Javier Peña can I get F reader and

“If you die, I’m gonna kill you.” and “You’re so fucking cute.”

A medium amount of filth if possible

Ah my love! Thank you so much! You're such an amazing light in this fandom, and we love and appreciate you so much! Thank you for sending in a request! I don't know what happened but it got a bit out of hand and super soft and a bit angsty lmao, but I hope you still enjoy and the medium amount of filth still hits right! ❤️

before my eyes

javier pena x f!reader

word count: 3k warnings: idk i feel like this is a mess but i'm going with it, neighbour!javi, swearing, smoking, SOFTNESS, smidgen of angst, mention of injury/gunshot wounds/surgery, SMUT 18+ ONLY: oral sex (f), unprotected p in v

“Shit,” you curse, watching the box in your hands give way to the contents within.

The bottom gives out, your belongings spilling down the stairway, and you heave a sigh of impatience. Sweat slicks your skin, causing the flow of your dress to cling to you as you bend to try and find some semblance of organisation to the unexpected chaos thrust upon you. 

“Let me help,” a voice says from the top of the stairs, and you turn to watch the newcomer jog softly down the steps and duck to gather some of your things.

“Thanks,” you murmur, heat washing under your cheeks, “this is just what I need.”

Of course the attractive man living in your building has to catch you in a moment of mayhem. Javier, as he had previously introduced himself the day before, gives you a small smile, the yellow tinted sunglasses covering his eyes sliding down the curved bridge of his nose.

“Not having the best day?” 

“It could be better,” you reply dryly.

The plumbing in your apartment is weak at best, with a few leaks springing from the pipes beneath the sink in your kitchen and bathroom. Not to mention the shot to shit AC unit, leaving the humid Colombian air to fill every inch of every room.

“I could come and take a look,” Javier says, making a neat pile of books before sweeping them up into his arms and following you the rest of the way to your door. “I’m no plumber, but I could fiddle around with the pipes at least. I know a guy who could come out for the AC.”

“You don’t seem like the type of guy to have a tool set laying around,” you tease lightly, shifting the barely fixed box onto your hip to push open your door.

Javier grins, “You’re right—I don’t, but I have been taught a thing or two. I’m sure the Hillbilly’ll have something I could use. I can come tonight, if you want?”

“I don’t want to be any trouble—”

“You’re not—I offered.”

It may not have been any trouble for him to come over, but he certainly was trouble himself, you had quickly come to learn. The feelings he invokes in you is something you hadn’t quite felt before. He makes his desire obvious, unashamed with his light flirtations that never fail to bring butterflies flying right up your throat.

As a thank you for fixing your leaky pipes, you cook. Your first proper meal in your new apartment, and in wonderful company, too. Who'd have thought your new move would bring you here? 

Dinner is filled with easy conversation, and he expertly dodges any and all questions relating to his work. You know that he works with Steve, your new neighbour Connie’s husband, and you know by her that Steve works for the DEA.

You don’t mention work again for the night. He stays longer than you had originally expected, content to share a glass of bourbon on your couch and listen to the soft music falling from your record player.

The evening ends with no more than a kiss to your cheek, dangerously close to the corner of your lips, and your heart thunders in your chest when he remains close enough to feel his breath wash over your lips.

For a second, you find yourself wanting, hoping that he’d close those last few centimetres and grace you with the feeling of his lips over yours…

… but no.

Instead, he turns, leaving with a dangerously charming, almost teasing, smile and a quiet goodnight.

Trouble, indeed.

Weeks pass before you see him again for more than a few seconds alone or without the company of Steve and Connie, striding into the building late at night and running an anxious hand through his hair. A tough day, you assume. He would have plenty with his line of work.

You make your presence known and smile softly at him, still clad in your party dress from a night out with new friends.

“Not having the best day?” You ask gently, leaning against the railing of the stairs as the effects of the alcohol in your system bring a hazy swirl to the edges of your vision.

He stops, playing with his keys between his fingers before giving a shrug, “It could be better.”

Your stomach tightens and flips with his low rasp. The attraction is undeniable, and you’d been questioned viciously by Connie in regards to the looks you and Javier would share, or the energy that would fill the room whenever you two were close. You’d had no answers at the time, putting it down to merely a simple crush that would pass soon.

Something in your mind said differently though, that this felt like more, deeper than a silly little crush that would fade away after a few months. You hope he shares the same sentiment, but with the choices and certain circumstances he would put himself in for his job and gathering intel, you started to doubt more and more that that would happen. 

“Want me to help with that?”

It’s the remnants of various fruity cocktails bringing forth a small wave of flirty confidence. Usually you would never be so upfront, but you don’t find yourself regretting the words as soon as they pierce the air. You want it, with every inch of you.

He thinks it over for a long moment, his eyes dragging over your body with an obvious shine of desire and admiring your flattering choice of attire, but instead a slight curl pulls at the corners of his lips and your heart thuds harder and faster in your chest.

“Maybe another night, when you can actually remember me in the morning,” he teases deeply, smiling wider when you give a breathy chuckle. “You need help getting in?”

“No, I’ve got it. Goodnight, Javier.”

“Goodnight, corazón.”

That's new.

You struggle to get rid of the smile curling your lips, even long after you wave him goodbye and tuck yourself into bed. His voice lingers, images flash behind your lids as you try to sleep.

He drives you crazy.

He fills your thoughts every moment of the day—his face, his eyes, his smile. His voice would linger in your ears, the low rasp of it keeping your nerves electrified.

You look for him in the entryway coming home, you listen out for his comings and goings through your thin front door. Sometimes you even catch yourself having a little peek through your peephole when you hear him and Steve, watching as he runs a hand through his hair and ever so slightly looks towards your door before vanishing. 

It’s one night you both happen to arrive home at the same time, the humidity of Colombia sticking to your skin but relieved with the breeze that blows through the streets. He lingers, seemingly happy to chat while you fiddle with the straps of your handbag.

“You want a drink?”

The question is a welcome surprise, and you merely nod in answer, unable to quite force the words out your mouth.

His apartment is… Javier. It’s minimal, no signs of being truly lived in with photographs and knick knacks like the ones that fill your walls and tables, but the air filling it is comfortable and cosy, the music that falls from his record player familiar and calming.

Conversation flows easily.

He’s tired, the bags hanging softly beneath his eyes showing that work has been extra hard on him the last few weeks. You love that he looks relaxed with you, sinking into his couch with his head leaning comfortably on the back as it rolls to face you.

He smiles at your ramblings, laughs quietly at your stories, the crinkles forming at the corner of his eyes hitting somewhere deep in your chest. 

You don’t even realise you fall asleep until later in the night.

You wake only a few hours later, hazy and slightly confused by your surroundings, but instantly soften at the heavy breaths that fall into your ears. He’s asleep next to you, still cradling the half nursed glass of whiskey in his hands. His head rests just beside yours, his lips barely parted and breath washing past your face as you watch him for a long minute.

He needs rest. Carefully, you extract yourself from the couch and gently place your own glass on the coffee table before draping him in the coloured crochet blanket hanging just beside him and pressing a tender kiss of goodnight to his forehead.

It wakes him, his eyes half open when you pull away to leave and the sheer force of his gaze keeps you from moving away any further. He watches you quietly, his dark sleep filled eyes roaming your face before he leans up and catches your lips with his own and steals the breath from your lungs.

He moves slowly, hands roaming your legs and hips before cupping your ass and pulling you down until your knees sink into the cushions beside his hips. You settle in his lap easily, muscles loosening with each curl of his tongue along yours until you’re practically melting at his touch. 

Everything feels right.

Every moment, every kiss, every touch… God, he knows what he’s doing. He devotes his energy to you, uncaring about meeting his own end and instead selfish with the time he spends on your body. He studies it all—what makes your breath hitch, what makes your legs shake, what makes your fingers tighten and tug at his hair.

You savour every sharp exhale and groan that falls from his lips. It's not long until you're spread out on his couch, watching with wide eyes as he tugs at your underwear and throws the soaked cotton over his shoulder with a lazy smirk that radiates trouble.

He loses himself between your thighs, dress haphazardly shoved up and out of the way so he’s free to devour you as he wishes, his tongue rolling and circling over your clit and diving into the weeping entrance of your cunt until you’re breathless and incoherent.

He brings you up and over the edge again and again, until you physically think you can’t possibly give him any more, only to have him force yet another out of your system with his low rumble sinking into your ears.

So good for me, look at you. Let me feel you, so fucking good. Give it to me, come on now, corazón—

You’re bent over the arm of the couch when he finally gets sick of the dress still clinging to your frame, fingers unforgiving as they wrench the dress up and off your body, freeing your skin to his hungry touch.

They roam at their leisure, cupping the soft swell of your tits and pinching your hardened nipples until you squirm against the solid feel of him pressed up against your ass.

He ruts into you without abandon, cock hitting just that bit too far and blessing you with the sharp twinge of pain alongside the blissful feel of him dragging against your walls and you're seeing stars, clinging to the cushions as a means to keep your head straight and not lose yourself to the overwhelming ecstasy threatening to have you passing out.

He cums with his lips on your neck, mouth hot and heavy against your sweat slicked skin as he pants into the curve on your shoulder, before pressing one simple final kiss there. He lingers, pressed tightly against you and crowding you into the firm arm of the couch as he softens within you, his cum trailing a slow, hot path down the inside of your thigh.

You curl into the reassuring hand to rub along your back as you sink shakily back to sit down. You smile shyly when he reappears with a warm cloth, lazily sliding it across your skin and softly cupping it against your tender cunt to calm the ache there.

It’s intimate, the sheer closeness of the action bringing your heart to beat at the base of your throat.

Surprisingly, he asks you to stay, and your heart doesn’t calm until exhaustion claims you after your head meets his pillow, the familiar scent of his cologne and the faint traces of cigarettes clinging to the soft cotton. 

It’s a slow development. 

The next time, he comes to you, knocking on your door in the middle of the night and you let him in without a word. You cuddle into the leftover warmth on your bed long after he leaves for his own apartment to head to work, the ghost of his lips moving over your body following you for the rest of the day.

The time after, it’s his place again, but this time, he cooks. It’s the first time it feels like something more than sex, but it goes unaddressed.

You talk and talk, you learn about his father, his life before Colombia. You admit to finding your life lacking, forever wishing for something more than the mundane ‘find a husband and settle down’ expectations struck upon you.

There’s something there, lingering behind the way you take each other apart.

It follows his touch, oozes from the kisses you pepper each other with. It feels nice, it feels so right. You feel comfortable in his bed, completely nude and not at all bothering to hide any part of you. It feels normal, natural even, when he lays beside you and throws out random topics of conversation with his lips around a cigarette, occasionally offering it to you and chuckling warmly when you’d attempt to inhale the harsh tobacco. You’re both unperturbed by the silence that would sometimes follow.

And that feeling never disappears, it only grows as the weeks go on.

You know you have strong feelings for him one morning when you feel him press a tender kiss of goodbye to your forehead while you’re still half asleep. It has your heart quickening, something soft and sweet and warm curling around your chest. You bathe in the glow of it. 

But it would be addressed later—you’d hate to potentially ruin whatever you have building with him by speaking on your feelings too quickly.

And then, one fateful day, it happens. It all comes crashing down around you and for the first time, you worry you'll never be able to speak the words to him.

The steady beep of the machine is somewhat comforting in the chill of the room. You barely notice it, too consumed with watching the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath the light blanket covering his body. Steady, they had said, after the surgery they had rushed him into.

It hadn’t been expected, the phone call during the morning of another seemingly normal work day. Steve had sounded nervous, a first for your neighbour. He hadn’t been able to give you all the details, all you knew was that it was bad.

Shot. A bullet in his side and one in his chest. 

You had flown to the hospital, rushed in with his name falling in rushed pleas and they had shown you to the waiting room to await a doctor for more information. Steve was there, Connie, too. She had doted on you, guided you to a close seat and ordered her husband to get you a drink, a snack, anything.

Hours went by, and soon a man appeared, kindly reassuring you he had made it through with minimal issues, and was now in recovery. You were beside him within an hour.

He was warm to the touch, his pulse thrumming softly under your fingers as you had gently cradled his hand. He had remained motionless at the tender kiss you had pressed to his forehead, his lashes brushing his cheeks as he remained in the bliss of a hopefully painless sleep.

And you hadn’t moved since. Steve had left after some gentle pressing from Connie, and you had reassured him you’d call the moment he awoke. He had gripped Javi’s fingers softly, giving him one final look of worry, before turning and leaving under the arm of his wife.

Nurses come and go, checking his IV and doing their routine of observations, never worrying about their findings and erasing any of your lingering fear with a warm smile. They bring you coffee as the day bleeds into night, keeping you fed with cold hospital sandwiches and the occasional packet of sweet biscuits. 

You just want him to wake.

It’s normal, they say. Just give him time.

“Javi,” you murmur softly, leaning forward to brush his hair back for the thousandth time, “I know you need some time to get your strength back, and that’s fine, but just so you know—if you don’t wake up, and you die? I will kill you.”

As you expected, he stays silent, but you still smile, lingering to brush your fingers down his cheek softly before settling back in your seat. Your hands wrap around the arm resting in front of you, and you rest to press your cheek on his warm skin, content to watch him sleeping and losing yourself to dreams sometime into the night, too.

It’s a slight pressure on your temple that gently pries you out of dreamy darkness. It moves, sliding along your skin softly before disappearing and returning to where you’d first felt it. Fingers, you realise hazily, recognising the feel of someone stroking your face.

Your eyes flutter open, immediately to be met with a pair of tired dark eyes seemingly content in watching you. Javi.

Startled, you sit up and reach to call for the nurse, only to stop at the raspy voice that tells you to calm down.

“They already know,” Javi says quietly, throat dry and raw. “They just didn’t want to wake you.”

You turn for the jug of water and pour some into the little plastic cup, carefully plucking the straw from the table and holding it at his lips. He drinks slowly, humming from the relief of the cool liquid filling his mouth.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been shot,” he replies dryly, lips twitching at the corners.

“Idiot,” you snark around a grin, returning the cup to the table and linking your fingers through his. “No, really, how are you?”

He sighs, head rolling on the pillow so he can look at you better, “I’m doing okay, corazón.”

You nod, tongue running along your lips as you take reassurance from his words. He’s okay.

You tighten your fingers through his and take a small breath to calm the anxiety in your system, unaware you’re crying until you hear him breathe your name. You mumble an apology, almost embarrassed by the stream of tears, but it’s soon muffled by his hospital gown as he gently pulls you to him.

Carefully, you rest your head on one side of his chest, mindful of the thick bandaging on the other and warm at the arms that come to rest over your back.

Admitting feelings can wait. For now, you’re content to just rest in his arms, listening to the steady beat of his heart under your ear.

“You know,” Javi murmurs against the top of your head, “you’re really fucking cute when you snore.”

“I do not snore!”

-

Yeah this was a mess but I'm into it nonetheless lmao.

I haven't updated my taglists yet soz x

taglist 1: @maievdenoir, @javier-pena, @lv7867, @dihra-vesa, @katronautt, @radiowallet, @januarystears, @missminkylove, @beskarprincessjenny, @mswarriorbabe80, @danidrabbles, @amneris21, @eri16, @absurdthirst, @hnt-escape, @acourtofsnakes, @ezrasbirdie, @mstgsmy66, @lovesbiggerthanpride, @coaaster, @sherala007, @greeneyedblondie44, @wyn-n-tonic, @you-got-me-starry-eyed, @shirks-all-responsibilities, @withasideofmeg, @harriedandharassed, @andruxx, @buckybarneshairpullingkink, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @prostitute-robot-from-the-future, @tanzthompson, @mad-girl-without-a-box, @hope-for-the-best-98, @fangirl-316, @christina-loves, @jediknight122, @hallway5, @xoxabs88xox, @nicolethered, @churchill356, @massivecolorspygiant, @just-here-for-the-moment, @gracie7209, @pinkie289, @lavenderluna10, @goodgriefitsawildworld

[cgtg]

hey that one dave post got me to listen to odd nosdam while driving late at night. such an ethereal experience, you have amazing taste my man

(ps. are u sure you’re not just dave???)

that sounds transcendental holy shit i wanna do that, thank u for giving nosdam the time of day i dont know a single other musician who does it like him, im so happy 2 hear. thank u thank u

ps

[wekiamo]

fell harder pt 2

skeet ulrich x fem!reader

a/n: here goes part 2! this is a lil longer than my fics usually are, i hope thats not a problem! have fun reading 🤍 BTW SKEET IN THIS GIF BYEE that man is something else

pt. 3 & masterlist

warnings: swearing, fluff

you didn’t get to sleep a lot at night. maybe it’s the anxiety you’re feeling, knowing that today you were going to meet almost everyone you were going to see very often from now on. it’s not a big deal for you, the only big deal is that in “everyone”, skeet ulrich is included.

you fear you’re gonna get nervous and say something weird, act weird making him dislike you. if that was anyone else, it would be okay. but imagine skeet ulrich disliking you? that’s what you think for almost 5 minutes after getting up from bed, while looking at yourself in the mirror.

you figure out you have to convince yourself that he’s a normal person just like you, and that there’s nothing to be scared about.

“yeah, it’s not a big deal. so what if he doesn’t like me?” you tell youself, before opening your fridge and grabbing an apple. you continue talking “i shouldn’t care about what he thinks of me. he’s a human like anyone else, so i’m gonna act like i always do. that’s it!” you sound more convinced than you thought you would be, and that makes a smile grow in your face.

you jump happily around the house, until you get to the couch and throw yourself on it. you turn on the TV and you start watching some kids show, too busy biting your apple to change the channel.

it’s silly, but you find yourself not wanting to change it, so you just keep watching it until you’re done with your apple. you turn off the TV, and start feeling sleepy.

you close your eyes slowly, and then you fall asleep.

—

“damn, that was the best nap i’ve took in such a long time” you say, before checking what time is it.

it’s 4 pm. you remember you didn’t ask dave what time you’re supposed to show up to dinner, then you make your way to your room to get your phone.

“Hey Y/n, meet us at 7. I can pick you up if you want to” 2:20 pm

“smart guy” you think “it’d be cool if he picked me up. meeting someone for the first time in their car would be a… would be definitely a new experience”

“hey, sorry for taking too long, i took a nap” 4:07 pm

“but yes! imma send you my address rq hold on” 4:07 pm

you send him your adress.

you’re hungry.

it’s time for Topanga’s Burgers - your favorite place in the world. well, not really but thats what you call it. actually, it’s just your favorite place to eat burgers. its really near your house and that makes you love it even more. you have befriended literally all the workers there. you love the fact they’re all kind and they really like what they’re doing, you really appreciate it. it makes you remember of how amazing would it be if you had a job you’d love doing. and your last job was definitely not something you loved doing, in fact, it was the complete opposite. you quit it not too long ago and you were living with your savings and your mom’s salary. she lives with you, but she’s on vacation now. anyways, Topanga’s Burgers definitely gives you motivation to keep working hard to get where you want.

you take a bath, put on some clothes you like, do your personal hygiene, and you leave your house.

“y/n!!” a worker greets you with a big smile on her face, leaving the cashier area to come and give you a hug.

“keisha! hey, how have you been?” you hug her back tightly, happy to see her again.

keisha is a 40 years old cheerful and awesome woman. she’s probably one of the most fun friends you have. she also gives you amazing advice about literally anything you ask her about. she’s the best

“i’ve been worried about you. it’s been 3 days you’re not even coming to greet us anymore!” she says, with a genuine look of worry in her eyes. that statement of hers make it pretty obvious you come here a lot.

“yes, and i’m sorry! but i got some pretty good news”

“save it just for a minute” she says, and turns around to call the rest of the workers to hear the news you have “guys, come here! y/n’s back with good news”

everyone in the burger shop starts looking, but you don’t really care. it doesn’t embarrass you anymore.

you greet everyone coming your way as they make a circle and adjust to it, to hear the news.

“come closer” you say, and they do.

“you know when i auditioned for scream 7, right? so… i did it”

“YOU GOT THE ROLE?” keisha screamed, as some other workers gasp.

“I DID” you reply with a big smile and a happy nod, as they start jumping and screaming in excitement as you do too.

“you’re not so useless, are you?” tom joked, and everyone laughed including you.

“but seriously now, who’s going to be working with you?” tom asked in a curious tone

“there’s someone special. really special”

“hurry and give us a hint” said angelica, a funny old woman who works as a cleaning lady.

“okay, okay, you’ll have to get it right. it’s this really hot middle-aged man who you all know i always had a crush on”

“no way. skeet ulrich? he’s going to be in scream 7 too?”

“yes ma’am!”

“guys, didn’t scream end in the third movie?” linda asked.

“shut up linda, let her speak” the old woman shushed her daughter, making everyone let out a laugh

“and i’m going to meet him. today”

“wait the shootings are already starting?” tom asked you.

“no, it’s just that the cast is going to have dinner together today. and i’m going to meet SKEET ULRICH”

“tell us more. where’s it gonna be?”

“i’ll tell you all after you take my order, ‘cause im like really hungry… please?”

keisha comes running to the cashier area, to get your order. there’s another man there too in all black with a black cap too, kind of covering his face - he's probably waiting for a while now since the workers were all in a circle screaming and jumping few seconds ago.

you watch keisha greet the guy and take his order, walking to the cashier area to stand right beside him.

as she’s there taking notes of his order, he looks at you and pushes his cap up, while you turn your head to see him. you’re now able to see his face.

“oh my fucking god” you think.

“hi, i’m skeet. what a funny coincidence! we’re filming scream 7 together, right?” he greets you with a handshake and a grin, as you turn your body to him and not just your head

keisha gasps. she starts laughing at your face as she goes to prepare his order.

there’s no fucking way. skeet ulrich is right in front of you and 100% heard you saying he’s hot and you have a crush on him. your cheeks turn red.

“hello” you say stuttering a bit “i’m y/n y/l/n, it’s nice to meet you” your hands still in his. his touch is warm and you find yourself not wanting to drop it. but you did, before it makes the situation awkward.

it’s not like you love him. it’s just that you’ve had a crush on him for the last 15 years. not a big deal… right?

you remember your own words.

i shouldn’t care about what he thinks of me. he’s a human like anyone else, so i’m gonna act like i always do.

“that’s it” you finish your sentence once again, but this time not out loud.

“so…” he starts

“here’s your order, sir. sorry for the wait, again”

“it’s okay, don’t worry about it. i was called hot, you know”

he really heard you. “shit”, you think to yourself

keisha laughs. you eye her, looking done and she covers her mouth to stop laughing.

“i’ll wait for you”

“nice. he wants to sit with me. how awkward is that going to be?” you think, but you stop quickly “no. it’s not going to be awkward. once again, he’s just a normal guy who’s talking to me! nothing more than that”

“like always, please”

keisha nods, still with a smile in her face stopping herself from laughing again. she goes to the kitchen and start preparing your order.

“listen, i’m sorry. can you pretend you didn’t hear me? please?”

“right ma’am. you didn’t lie, though. i am indeed hot”

“hey!” you reply, chuckling.

“sorry, sorry. but you laughed”

you start talking to him, waiting for keisha to come with your order. she’s usually really fast with your order, but today it’s taking a little too long.

she’s definitely doing it on purpose for you to keep talking to him.

you’re really enjoying it, though. he’s a nice guy and you’re a nice girl, a perfect match. you seem to get along really well. you notice something quickly - his moves are gentle and not too fast. you’re the complete opposite, but you love it when people move calmly like this, it comforts you, you have no idea why.

keisha gives you your order as you thank her and gives her a smile.

“let’s go ma’am” he smirks at you, guiding you to a table.

“you come here often?” he asks, obviously making fun of you

“take a guess” you say and you both giggle.

“is it going to be your first time?” he asks

“hm?”

“playing a part in a movie”

oh.

“ah yes. i’ve never been part of a movie before. i’m really nervous about it to be honest. i’m not sure if i’ll be able to do my best”

“don’t worry, it’s not rocket science. all you’re going to do is pretend to be someone for a while”

“are you sure that’s all?”

“well, i told myself that exact same thing for every role i played and it went great”

“i’m talking to billy loomis right now, so i guess i’ll have to trust you.”

“yes, i’m a middle aged hot man, you should trust me”

you both laugh and he starts again “jokes aside, i’ll always be on set. if you need some advice, just call me and i’ll help you, ok?“

“thank you skeet. i really appreciate it”

you kept talking to him until you were both done eating.

somehow, this guy makes you feel comfortable around him. maybe it’s just your daddy issues, but you doubt it. this man has something in him that feels just right.

“we gotta go now. we have dinner with the cast, remember?”

“am i gonna have to see you again?” you joke as you get up and he does too, and he gasps ironically

“the middle-aged man here did not like it!”

“oh stop it” you say walking beside him to the exit and he chuckles softly.

“you want a ride home, kid?” skeet asks you, as he turns to you.

“no thanks, i live near here. you can go”

“okay then, see you later tonight!” he waves tilting his head and smiling softly as he enters his car. you wave back.

“wait”

“yes?”

“do you want me to pick you up for dinner?”

oh god. you wanted to say yes, but what about dave? wouldn’t he be upset?

“i’m sorry skeet, dave’s already going to pick me up” you say, with sort of a sad tone, trying not to upset skeet.

“it’s alright. dave, huh?” he smirks at you

“do not.” you reply quickly, raising your eyebrowns and lowering your head

“okay, okay” he laughs “see ya!”

you smile in response.

in 3 seconds, you’re going to process everything that just happened.

3,

2,

1.

“no way” you say out loud.

someone touched your shoulders behind you, making you jump with the unexpected touch, relaxing right after you see it’s angelica

“little girl you better tell me everything” she said with her hands still on your shoulders.

[pedropascalsx]

Kinktober - Day One: Mutual Masturbation.

Dave York x F! Reader.

Summary: Dave catches you.

Word Count: 569 (lol)

A/N: Kicking of Kinktober with some Dave York! Are we surprised? No. I hope you like this one. I’m hoping kinktober pulls me out of my writing rut. ❤️

Thank you to @absurdthirst for your amazing prompt list and for looking over this one for me and offering the best advice💙

His tongue dipped out, quickly wetting his lips as his eyes stayed focusing on you. Watching the way your fingers drew perfect little circles on your clit, and occasionally letting his eyes flicker up to focus on the way your tits moved up and down as your moans became breathier and you moved closer and closer to that delicious high.

Dave had caught you in the act moments before, not bothering to knock before he swiped the keycard he had made for your room. A smirk formed across his face, as you let his name slip from your lips, before realizing he was in the room.

“Filthy,” Dave mocked as he ripped you from your fantasy, the fantasy in which he had those extremely capable hands wrapped around your neck as he took exactly what he needed from a very enthusiastic you.

“Shit, Dave, I’m so sor—,” you began to splutter as you attempted to cover yourself with one of the pillows next to you.

“For what?” He asked, with a tut. “For thinking about me while playing with that pretty little pussy? Or for stopping just as it was getting… interesting.”

The mock pout he plastered across his face made you shiver, as he stood hands on his hips and the bottom of your bed.

“Move the goddamn pillow and finish what you started,” Dave ordered through clenched teeth, “Now.”

Silently you pushed away the pillow, staring at his face intently before spreading your legs and pressing two fingers to your clit that was pulsating with need.

“Slowly,” he hissed, as he pushed his jacket off his shoulders and loosened his tie. His hand came up to your knee and pushed your legs apart a little more before he reached down and freed his cock.

He met the gasp that fell from your lips with a chuckle as you took in the sight of your boss’ thick cock. Just looking at it alone made your pussy clench with need. Your teeth burrowed into your lip as he took himself in hand and started making languid strokes, every expert flick of his wrist making you more and more desperate to feel this man touch you. Anywhere.

“Move your hand away, let me see how wet you are,” he growled, as he kneeled down onto the bed, still stroking his cock as he moved closer to you. “Fuck. You’re ficking filthy, aren’t you?”

His name was the only thing you could say, as you moved your fingers back down and increased your pace. Watching the way his hand moved up and down his shaft as he filled your ears with filth that rolled off his tongue with ease.

“You’re going to cum, my filthy little girl,” he said, as he stroked himself a little faster, “Fuck. Do it.”

Your deft fingers circled with clit as fast as they could as you chanted his name like an oath, one word somehow filled with endless promises, and with a final whimper of his name, everything went black. Pleasure started pumping throughout your veins and your body twisted and convulsed in pleasure. The sound of his voice talking you through it, muffled but never stopping.

His spare hand was squeezing your thigh as you came down from your high, the other still furiously pumping his cock. He licked his lips once again before smirking and announcing, “We’re just getting started, my sweet girl.”