#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 🫶🫶🫶‼️

[g0dlyunsub]

it takes two.

spencer deals with a lot on the field, but nothing can prepare him for when he’s stuck inside a locker with you.

pairing :: spencer x fem bau!reader

warnings :: 18+ due to sexual themes but no smut, slight claustrophobia triggers

word count :: 2.2k

author’s note :: inspired by a scene from s9e23, i'm imagining spencer in a fitted collared shirt and tie, reader wears a skirt

accompanying song :: stuck between by dutch criminal record

“nothing’s showing up on vicap. i’ve cross-checked records against everything you’ve mentioned, sir, but there’s literally nothing. zilch,” you hear garcia let out an exasperated groan as she ferociously taps at her keyboard. 

you watch as hotch kneads the skin between his brows with growing impatience while morgan starts to pace around the room. you’re not doing any better yourself, your stressed-out fingers threatening to tug at the strands of hair neatly holding your ponytail together. 

it’s too frustrating. the leads are clearly there, but your team is lacking the final puzzle piece to complete the profile, to confirm that it’s someone in the department that’s deliberately injecting themselves into the investigation.

“your answer is probably written down on paper. ugh, i hate when bad guys try to act all smart,” garcia fumes, and sulks as she gives an apologetic wave from her side of the screen. hotch nods, relays a thank you, and cuts the call before rounding the whole team together.

“think about it, those two are the perfect scapegoats. all of these agents have everything to lose, so why not just blame them? they’ve been in and out of cells already, and it makes perfect sense to craft a narrative that’ll point fingers at them,” morgan starts, making small gestures as he speaks with his signature cadence, topped with a honeyed rasp.

“and they’ve got all the authority to influence the public’s opinion,” jj nods in agreement.

“we need to try to get those two to talk again, but we also have to take extra precautions. jj and prentiss, go interview them one more time to see if they’ll spill any names. morgan, i need you to work with garcia to look for other possible leads. reid and l/n, go to the records room to review the files of the agents working with us. dave and i will try to hold down the fort,” hotch instructs, nodding at each of you as he rolls out the orders. 

“and try not to draw suspicion. if all else fails, say that you need to run to the bathroom,” rossi adds with a wink. it always amazes you how calm the italian agent is during such high-pressure situations, a trait you’ve grown to immensely appreciate.

“shall we?” you say as you nudge spencer, and he hums back in response. you bid a wish of good luck to emily and jj and traverse the hallway to the records room with the doctor, your heels clacking beside the cushioned steps of his slightly worn converses. 

after looking left and right to make sure no one’s around, spencer opens the door. you silence the sounds of your heels as you follow inside, and let the bolt of the lock plunge into the frame by slowly closing the door. 

“alright, you take the left, i’ll take the right,” you whisper, and spencer gives you a thumbs up. 

the two of you work silently and as fast as possible, sifting through the piles of records that lie on the tables and beside the cabinets. you feel your heart jump into a cartwheel every time a sheet of paper slips out of the manila folders, the sounds of rustling and creasing setting you on edge. 

“i found mcgregor and drew, but i don’t think it’s either of them,” spencer declares with a voice that isn’t supposed to sound loud at all, but it feels hundreds of decibels higher than the bare whisper you spoke with earlier. 

“okay, i found weaver and lee, but they don’t fit the profile either. let’s continue looking for the other two,” you call back. 

spencer walks over to you and kneels beside your left to help you with your search. once you spread the folders on the floor, you spot one of the two remaining files, and spencer soon finds the other. you’re about to turn through the sheets in the folder when the doorknob starts to shake, startling the both of you.

“shit. spence,” you blurt as spencer takes his file in one hand and grabs yours with the other, and shoves them into an open drawer. after he slides the compartment back with his careful and nimble fingers, you grab his arm and squeeze into a spare locker. you barely manage to seal the opening shut in time.

you could say that it was quick thinking that saved your and spencer’s cover, since the door jiggles and thrusts open a mere second later.

you never would’ve imagined that the day would come when you would draw air directly from spencer’s breaths, let alone enclose yourself in the same room as him. 

and yet here you are, perched on top of spencer’s knee, the scratchy fabric of his trousers resting under the hollow space of your pencil skirt and between your legs. his other leg presses against your side of the wall with an uncomfortable bend, while his chin sits an atom’s width from your forehead.

it’s a nonnegotiable consequence that comes with his tall figure, the way his clothed knee has to rub against your inner thighs under the draped fabric.

one of your hands lies awkwardly on his chest while the other is on his thigh, right above the knee that’s using you for leverage. your attention immediately shifts to your left when you see the rays of the intruder’s flashlight scope through the room. 

you stop mid-exhale when the light pours through the gaps of the locker, casting shadows on spencer’s face and your body. he looks stressed, anxiously wetting his lips with closed eyes, face turned away from you.

and he looks overwhelmed. rapid bursts of inhales and exhales fire from his body, likely due to the collar of his shirt being bound tightly around his neck with the tie. with shaking fingers, you slowly reach for his tie, waiting for approval to loosen it. 

you feel his forehead bury into the cave of your shoulder, and he whispers his desperate ask into your ear: “please.”

despite the lack of light around you, you’re able to locate the small end of his satin tie, and you tug lightly. the knot unfurls as you pull, and spencer lets out a small sigh of relief before breathing a low thank you in your ear.

as this happens, you hear the intruder surf through the piles of papers, unlocking drawers and lifting boxes left and right. hurry, hurry, hurry, you pray desperately in your head. beads of sweat start to form at your temple and threaten to fall down to your exposed neck, which happens to be situated directly in spencer’s line of sight.

“come on,” you hear the guest in the room complain, angrily flipping through papers and slamming the cabinets. you think it’s finally time for him to leave when you hear the high-pitched ring of his phone. 

but your eyes widen when instead of heading to the door, he makes strides towards the locker right across from yours, and leans his back against it before holding the phone up to his ear. holy shit.

“jensen speaking,” he says with a gruff voice, and plays with the button of his flashlight so it turns on and off spontaneously. as the light flickers, it dimly shines the space inside your locker. 

spencer turns his head to meet your eyes, a panicked expression covering his face. you’re about to mouth a small sorry for the helpless situation you’ve dragged him into, but just as you’re about to do so, spencer’s trousers slide against your legs, creating friction so unbearable that you let out a squeak. 

you freeze, looking up to see spencer’s eyes flash warningly. he instantly clasps your mouth with his hands to cover any further sound from escaping your lips, but with no form of support to maintain his position, he starts to slip, and his shirt lightly skids against the locker’s slippery walls. this is somehow even worse for you, because spencer’s knee starts to dig further up your legs and into your cotton underwear, forcing you to squeeze your eyes shut.

luckily for the both of you, jensen seems to be distracted by whatever words are being spewed from the other end of his phone call to pay any mind to your suppressed yelps. 

“i think their agents might be on to us,” he scowls, and you watch from the corner of your eye as he tosses the last of his files into a box and opens the adjacent locker to ram it inside.  

“yeah, i’ll try to stall them for as long as i can. they don’t know what they’re getting themselves into.” 

jensen curses and promptly ends the call, returning his phone into the pocket of his shirt. he finally walks to the door, sighing as he twists the knob and steps out. the two of you lie in wait for an additional three minutes before trying anything. 

“i think we’re good,” spencer huffs, finally opening the locker door with a thud as the sounds of steel clashing against steel echo throughout the air. 

“yeah,” you nod, taking a breath to collect yourself as you step out. you watch as spencer runs a hand through his hair and moves his fingers down to adjust his tie. 

he returns the stare, his adam’s apple bobbing when he eyes your wrinkled shirt and scrunched up pencil skirt – which looks more like a mini-skirt with how it sits right below your hips.

“i um, i need some air. how about you?” spencer asks at last, clearing his throat. you bite your lip when he starts to brush the dust off his thighs and knees, the moments of earlier flooding into the back of your mind like the warmth pooling between your thighs.

“yeah, i could use some fresh air too,” you respond breathily, averting your eyes and focusing instead on smoothing out your shirt and retying your loosened ponytail. when you’re done, you turn around and stagger to the door, not looking twice to see if spencer’s following you. an intense flush spreads across your cheeks, and your only viable path of escape is to the bathroom.

“you, um, missed a spot,” you hear from behind, and you follow spencer’s gaze to see that he’s referring to the back of your skirt.

“oh,” you say as embarrassment swamps you, and you hurriedly pat at the fabric. “does that look better?”

“it’s still folded there. if you want, i can- may i?” 

the question tumbles from his pretty lips and messes with your head. his hand hovers right around your waist, the same way yours lingered on his tie as you waited for his consent. and his softening eyes. his slightly smoldering gaze looks so innocent and alluring at the same time, your heart starts to feel heavy with the weight of desire. 

note to self: never wear a pencil skirt again.

“please,” you utter like a silent prayer, and mentally prepare yourself to endure the test of his fingers against your skin.

as soon as he receives your word, his hand lightly brushes against your thigh and trails down your skin. he takes the hem of your skirt and pulls down, giving several tugs before releasing the stretched garment. 

he clears his throat when you don’t move even after he’s retracted his hand.

“all good now.” 

spencer’s words drown out your thoughts and snap you back to reality. he’s already standing by the door, holding it open for you with a patient smile.

“thanks,” you say as you walk out and rub your hands together, nervous for what you’re about to say next. “spencer, um, i’m so sorry about that whole ordeal, it was really unprofessional of me to drag you in there, i wasn’t thinking when i-”

“you did the right thing,” spencer interrupts your ramble with the shake of his head, and his flawless smile pulls at your heartstrings.

“i would’ve pushed you in there if you hadn't. that door’s the only way in and out if you don’t count the windows,” he continues, slipping his hands into his pockets as he walks you to the elevator.

“oh,” you shyly murmur back, your cheeks flushing with a shade of bright pink as his words pour over you like warm water. he would’ve pushed you in there if you hadn’t?

“yeah, but how about we try a bigger locker next time?” spencer almost reads your mind as he half-mindedly jokes, causing you to drop your jaw in shock. he doesn’t acknowledge your reaction, however, because he starts to dial rossi’s number on his cell.

“by the way, the uh, new look suits you. the grey skirt and all,” spencer says with a lopsided smile before he raises a hand to excuse himself and call rossi. you’re saved the embarrassment of responding when rossi accepts the call, but your palms are already profusely sweating at his compliment.

note to self: maybe wear the pencil skirt again.

[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

[temporarywelcome]

Smooth Criminal - Spencer Reid

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: Spencer has been extremely secretive about his girlfriend of the past year, so much so that even Garcia can't find information on her. Till today, and her.... interesting ...past leaves everyone flabbergasted.

Warnings: light swearing

-----------------------------

Spencer’s had a girlfriend.

In fact, he’s had a girlfriend for almost a year at this point and she has not met his friends even once. He was so secretive with this girlfriend that the rest of the BAU couldn’t get any information about her. Not even a name, leaving Garcia in anguish. 

Everyone was dying to know about this mystery girl that has taken up most of the boy genius’ free time. 

And finally, Garcia cracked the code. 

As the team walked down the halls of work towards the exit, all exhausted and ready to go home, Morgan asked if Spencer had needed a ride.

“It’s pretty late to take a taxi,” Morgan had said. Everyone knows Reid barely drives for whatever reason. He frequently took taxis or carpooled.

Reid just shook his head, “It’s fine, thank you.” 

And that was that.

However, Garcia didn’t remember seeing him flag down a taxi. She didn’t remember seeing him walk off into the night.

And so she found herself in front of her computer typing away, already having a feeling as to how Reid left the office. She could get in trouble for this…

If she got caught.

But she won’t, because she’s Penelope Garcia,the most amazing tech analyst to grace the Earth. 

And there it was. 

She watched the camera footage of the parking garage, following Spencer’s movements of the night before, camera to camera. She followed him, until he stopped next to a car, opening the passenger side and getting in.

Then the car drove off.

Someone drove into the parking lot with the intention of picking up Spencer. And she was pretty sure she knew who. Especially because this didn’t seem like a random occurrence. Going back a few weeks (she really needed a hobby it seemed), she found this car would pick Spencer up quite frequently. 

So she tracked the license plate, finally finding the name of this mystery woman. Y/N L/N. And that’s when Garcia fell down the rabbit hole…

That same day, Morgan stood in front of Spencer’s desk, arms crossed with an annoying smirk on his face. He obviously had something to say. 

“Morgan, I feel you hovering,” Spencer muttered, closing the manila folder on his desk and looking up at his colleague. “What is it?”

“So… what are you doing after work? Wanna get some beers?”

“No thanks, I have plans already.”

“Oh, yeah? With who?” 

“With-” Spencer’s eyes narrowed at Morgan in suspicion, “Why are you asking?”

“Answering a question with a question, huh?” Morgan chuckled, “C’mon, Reid, are you going to be with your little girlfriend?” 

“She’s quite tall actually,” 

“You know what I mean,” he turned to walk away, “Have fun with Y/N, pretty boy,” 

“What the f-” Reid gasped as Morgan stalked off, “How do you know her name?!” 

Morgan ignored his question, Rossi coming at him next to bother him. 

Straight from Garcia’s computer-adorned office. 

“A criminal, Reid?” Rossi exclaimed, slapping a file down onto his desk.

“Garcia told you?!” Spencer groaned, head going into his hands. “I can’t have any privacy?”

“Hey, look at me!” Rossi was completely appalled by the information he had found, “You’re an FBI agent! Dating a criminal!”

“Weren’t you a mobster or are we just going to forget that…?” JJ grumbled from her own desk, averting her gaze when Rossi shot her a look. 

Spencer dropped his hands from his face, “Rossi, look-”

“I bet that’s why you’ve been so secretive,” Dave concluded, “Because you knew Garcia would find out about your felon girlfriend. Look, she even gave me printouts,” He gestured to the file he threw onto Spencer’s desk. 

“She did petty crimes,” Spencer scoffed in defense of his girlfriend. 

“She robbed people for sport. Her mother was wealthy. Her father was a cop.” 

“Daughter of a cop, girlfriend of an FBI agent, and a robber? Interesting,” Prentiss joined the interrogation. 

“Where did you come from…” Spencer sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “She didn’t do it for sport. She just… well…”

“She’s a diagnosed kleptomaniac,” Rossi opened the file and pulled out a document of proof, “Now how the hell did you manage to date a kleptomaniac?”

Spencer opened his mouth to answer, but Prentiss answered for him, “They knew each other in high school back in Vegas,” she said, looking through the folder for the information Garcia told her. 

“Yes,” Spencer grumbled, “She was a freshman when I was a senior.”

“When you were twelve?” Rossi deadpanned. 

“Yes,” he repeated, “She actually helped me a lot with bullies.” he cleared his throat awkwardly, “She stole a lot of their things…” 

“And you find that attractive?” Rossi asked. 

“No, I didn’t find anything attractive when I was twelve,” Spencer shot back, “I only knew her for that one year before I graduated and left. We reconnected last year and-”

“Ah, yes, two years after she had to be bailed out of jail for stealing from a gas station.” said Rossi, “Not even a good crime,”

“What would constitute for a good crime?” Prentiss wondered out loud.

“A bank or something.” Rossi replied, “Anyway-”

“I mean she did rob a bank before-” Spencer paused, then clamped his mouth shut. 

Rossi and Prentiss exchanged glances, before making eye contact with JJ as well, who was now interested in the conversation. 

“She what” it didn’t even sound like a question coming out of Rossi’s mouth. 

Spencer quickly went to his girlfriend’s defense, “Not at gunpoint or anything! She just, uh, worked at the bank.”

“Jesus Christ,” Prentiss whistled, “Now this is intriguing,”

“I do not wish to speak about my girlfriend’s crimes anymore,” 

“Well we do,” Rossi grumbled, “So I’m assuming she hasn’t committed any more crimes?”

Spencer’s silence made Dave and Emily’s eyes widen. 

“You’re dating a current criminal-?” Emily began.

“Okay, look,” At this point, Spencer just wanted to leave and see his girlfriend, “Due to suffering from her kleptomania, her desire to steal is uncontrollable. Even when we met, she would constantly steal but return the object without the person knowing. I’ll admit, some of the robberies I’ve been… informed about, seem like they were more for fun, but that’s in the past, yeah?” 

“Yeah…” Emily wasn’t sure she should be convinced. 

“Yeah. Okay, I’m leaving now.” Spencer stood up, eyeing the file in Rossi’s hand, “And can you please get rid of that?”

“Well, can we meet her?” JJ asked from her desk, standing as well, “I didn’t stalk her like everyone else, but I’m still intrigued.”

“Thank you for being normal, JJ,” Spencer sighed, grabbing his bag.

Garcia burst out of her office, a devious look on her face, “Just looked at the cameras… A certain car is here waiting for Reid.” 

Spencer muttered under his breath as he sped off, already hearing footsteps following. He could hear Garcia tell Y/N’s whole life story to the group of Rossi, Prentiss, JJ, and Morgan who rejoined the group. 

“She’s a dancer in a big theatre a few cities over,” Garcia babbled, “They just finished Swan Lake. She Odette and everything! Oh and…”

Jesus Christ. 

“...and the last thing I found was that she used to run a Girls’ Generation blog,” Garcia finished.

“What’s that?” Morgan asked. 

“Girl group. She really likes Jessica, but she left or got kicked out or something. I learned so much girl group lore today.” 

“I also like Jessica’s sister, Krystal. She’s in a different group though,”

The team all froze, heads snapping comically at the same time to the owner of the voice. Y/N, the kleptomaniac that has somehow stolen Spencer Reid’s heart. She was leaning against her fancy car (Rossi pondered if it were stolen). 

“I had a blog for that group too,” she added, grinning at Garcia. She held out her arms, Reid shyly shuffling into her embrace. “But, well, I’d like to not remember either blog,” she whispered a ‘hey baby’ to Spencer, who mumbled something back, clearly embarrassed. 

“Um,” he cleared his throat, “Y/N, this is my team. Well, most of the team. Hotch isn’t here, thank God,” 

Y/N laughed, “They’ve been bothering you, baby? I’m guessing Penelope was the one who found out about me…” she scanned the small group and gestured towards Garcia, “You,” faced the others, “You’re Derek Morgan… Jennifer J… I’m not gonna lie, I can’t pronounce your last name-” JJ raised a brow. “-Emily Prentiss, and David Rossi.” she pointed out each agent before eyeing Garcia again, “You’re not the only stalker.” 

“Can we go now?” Spencer muttered, face already red, “I’m tired,” 

“Yeah, of course,” Y/N nodded. She looked at the team again, “It seems I’ve become a chauffeur, as this princess does not like to drive.” 

“Yeah, I’m gone,” Spencer grumbled, getting into the passenger seat.

“Oh, he so hates us now,” Morgan chuckled. 

Y/N shook her head, “Nah, he loves you guys. Well, as you all know, I’m Y/N,” She held out a hand to shake, politely shaking each member’s hand. “Should get going before said princess gets cranky,” She turned, heading back to the driver’s seat. “Oh yeah, Dave?” she looked over her shoulder and tossed a pair of keys at Rossi, who caught them.

His keys.

“Sorry,” she got into the car and drove off. 

“Kleptomaniac,” he said in awe, “She’s fast.”

“Didn’t even notice,” Emily agreed, watching the car as it created distance. 

“I don’t know how I feel about her,” JJ muttered, biting her lip, “I mean, is my name really that hard to pronounce?”

“Not at all,” said Garcia, “Spell, maybe,” 

_________________________

Once Y/N got back into the car, she noticed Spencer had turned off the music she had playing. “Um, Jessica was speaking,” she said jokingly.

He glanced at her, “Tell Jessica I apologize,” he said dryly. She was sure his team thought he was such a sweetheart, but damn, he gets cranky. Perhaps he saves that specially for her. 

“I’m guessing they saw my… record?”

“Mhm, Garcia made printouts,” 

“Ah, so they know about the bank incident…”

“One of them.”

“It won’t take long for them to find out about the other incidents,” she laughed. 

Spencer groaned, “I’m never going to hear the end of it… Now why did I decide dating a kleptomaniac was okay?”

Y/N just grinned, “Cuz I’m a smooth criminal, huh?” 

“Corny,” he grumbled, but the corners of his lips curled up. 

“Annie are you okay… are you okay…” Y/N trailed off, not knowing the lyrics. 

Spencer giggled like a kid; only she made him feel that way, “I don’t think Michael Jackson would appreciate that cover,”

“I don’t think Jessica would appreciate being silenced,” Y/N reached out, raising the volume of the music a tiny bit.

“Must we always speak of this woman as if we know her personally?” 

“Yes,”

--------

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[phoenixs-fandoms-and-writings]

Will You Go Out With Me?

Fandom: Kick-Ass

Pairing: Dave Lizewski/Fem!Reader

Plot: You and Dave are hanging out at his place when he asks you out. However he doesn't so much as ask as blurt the question out.

Notes: I don’t own Kick-Ass or Dave Lizewski.

I do not give permission to anyone to repost or translate any of my stories. I also do not give anyone permission to feed my stories through AI or to be posted to any third party website or app. If anyone sees any of my work posted anywhere but here or my AO3 (simplyreflected), then it has been posted without permission.

Read on AO3 here.

After you’d both finished your classes for the day, you and your best friend, Dave, hung out at his place. You were so happy to be eating pizza with your best friend, both of you enjoying each other's company as you watched a movie both of you loved. After you both finished eating the pizza, he moved the box to the side of the bed, saying that he’d take it out after the movie finished.

The two of you had been close for a long time. Sometimes people thought the two of you were a couple, not that you cared. You loved Dave so much.

It was at that moment, you felt his fingers curl around yours, until he was holding your hand. It was such a nice feeling. You liked how his hand felt in yours.

You couldn’t help it when you blurted out, “Will you go out with me?”

Your eyes widened as you realised what you had asked, and just as quickly, you blurted out, “no, don’t worry about it. I swear we’re good as friends, but you’re so cute and amazing and I love you-”

You were cut off when you felt Dave squeeze your hand and sit up before cupping your cheek with his other hand, “I would love to go out with you.” He smiled shyly as his cheeks reddened.

You leaned forward and kissed him, hopefully letting him feel how much you want to be with him. You smiled into the kiss before you pulled away, smiling from ear to ear. He wrapped his arm around your back and pulled you down to him. You leaned on his chest as the two of you lay there enjoying the feeling of being close to each other.

When you finally managed to regain your breath, you looked into his beautiful and very expressive blue eyes, as you told him, “you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.” He started to open his mouth to say something, but you carried on, “I don’t know when it happened, but I know that for the last year at least, that I’ve had a crush on you. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship by asking you out, but I wanted to on a few occasions.”

“Does this make you my girlfriend?”

“I’d like that, if that’s what you want.”

“That is definitely what I want,” he whispered. He leaned forward and placed his hand on your cheek. “Is this ok?”

You nodded. “Yeah, Dave. It definitely is.”

He leaned forward and you met him halfway, where the two of you shared a first kiss that was just as sweet as he was to you.

[aurorawritestoescape]

GET A TASTE

Ex Joel Miller x f!reader x bf Dave York || 880 words

Drabble for Table for Three series || can be read alone

Summary: the three of you have some ice cream fun

Tw: 18+, smut, food play, horny reader, mfm vibes, not specified age gap, dom/sub dynamic, daddy kink, praise kink, light degradation, voyeurism, f!masturbation, being naughty in public (not caught), cum eating, pet names (baby, kitten, babygirl, sweetheart). Pics are for the mood only, reader wears a dress, but has no specific physical descriptions.

A/n: thank you to @survivingandenduring for the ice cream socializer ask, which inspired this drabble😘 I’m so horny for these two it’s ridiculous. Dividers by @saradika-graphics 💕 Love you all❤️

Table for Three || Who’s your Daddy? || MASTERLIST

You’re sitting on Dave’s lap in a little outdoor cafe. It’s pretty empty and you wish they could play with you right then and there, like they’ve done before. Joel’s manspreading on the chair next to you, smirking at the way you squirm on top of your boyfriend’s thighs. But how can you sit still when his huge cock is right under the place you need him the most? You feel your naked pussy get wet and fear you’re going to soak through your thin summer dress.

Joel’s smug face mocks your need and you scoff, glancing into his ice cream bowl that he’s ordered,

“Chocolate, pff, boring.” You roll your eyes and add, “You should try something new once in a while, Joel.”

“I tend to enjoy things I always loved.” His voice, calm and gruff, makes your pussy throb, and you avert your eyes under his intense stare.

“Kitten, put your claws away,” Dave tells you with a smile but Joel knows you’re trying to rile him up.

“It’s ok, Dave. I love a little bit of scratchin’. She used to do a lot on my back when I was giving it to her good.”

“Or I was just trying to make you lift all your suffocating weight off me,” you retort, pouting your lips. You’re horny and hot and want them to finally fuck you.

Joel chuckles, shaking his head, and Dave sighs, his hot breath fanning your neck. You turn your face to him and peck his cheek with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, daddy, I’ll be good now.”

“I know you will, baby.”

You turn back to Joel and see him take a spoonful of the ice cream and shove it in his mouth. He swallows the treat and then slowly licks the spoon clean, not taking his eyes off you. You’re mesmerized by his tongue gliding over the shiny metal. You imagine his sweet lips on your body, his wet tongue sliding between your folds and suddenly the air gets too stuffy around you, Dave’s body is too hot against yours and you take a few deep breaths, trying to calm down.

Joel narrows his piercing eyes and asks, “Got too hot for you, sweetheart?” He motions at the cold treat and adds, “want to cool off?”

“I have mine,” you look at the pistachio flavored dessert on the table in front of you — Dave’s favorite.

“C’mon, babygirl, just a lick,” Joel tempts you, “Good old chocolate ice cream.”

You lick your lower lip before biting it, and turn to Dave, searching for his reaction. Dave rubs your bare thigh with his big hand and says,

“Go ahead, kitten, you deserve a treat.”

He bucks his hips and your whole body rises up and you feel him big and stiff under your ass cheek.

“Fuck,” you curse under your breath, feeling yourself gush more. Then you look back at Joel whose dark gaze makes you burn up even more.

You expect him to feed you his ice cream with a spoon but instead he slides his index finger through the dessert, scoops some and brings it to your lips.

You have no time to think as it’s about to drip on your pretty dress so you hastily wrap your lips around his thick digit. It tastes amazing and you close your eyes with a moan, while your tongue is swirling around his finger, gathering all the ice cream off his skin.

“Someone’s hungry,” you hear Dave smirk and your pussy aches with need as the men laugh.

“Lick it all off, sweetheart, I don't want my hand to be all sticky.”

“Yes, kitten, suck on it better,” your boyfriend encourages you.

Then they both watch your tongue and lips dance around Joel’s finger, as you revel in the taste of the chocolate and your ex’s skin. You’re loudly slurping and whimpering with pleasure.

“Good girl,” Joel praises you, slowly moving his digit back and forth between your lips.

Suddenly you gasp, when Dave's hand slithers under your dress and he finds your wet and bare cunt under there.

“My perfect little slut,” Dave groans against your neck as his fingers dip between your folds and he begins stroking your clit.

Joel pulls your dress up slightly, so he could see your pussy and then pulls his finger out of your eager mouth. You whine but in a moment your ex covers your mouth with his and kisses you, tasting the chocolatey sweetness off your tongue.

Dave gently nibbles on your shoulder, twirling your clit, and soon you come as Joel swallows your moans and your boyfriend prolongs your orgasm, rubbing your pulsating clit with his fingers.

When your climax passes, you part from Joel and Dave’s hand leaves your drenched pussy. With half lidded eyes you watch him lick your juices off his fingers.

Joel palms his huge bulge and asks you, “by the way, what’s your favorite flavour, babygirl?”

“Pistachio,” you reply, giving Dave a soft smile. Then you look back at Joel, your eyes glinting with mischief, and add, “But sometimes I crave chocolate.”

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic💖🌸

Table for Three || Who’s your Daddy? || Masterlist

General tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk

Tag list for Joel and Dave @bonezone44 @janaispunk @neverwheremoonchild @survivingandenduring @tammythr @604to647 @baronessvonglitter @psychicsheepstranger @disregardedplant @shessweetsour @merz-8

If you'd like to be tagged in my future fics, let me know!💖

[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

[kedsandtubesocks]

the dark dresses lightly

Dave York x F!Reader

written for @perotovar offering of frith challenge

Vidar [Víðarr] (The Silent God of Vengeance)

summary: your ex has made your life hell & you had hoped for retribution - but when it arrives as a handsome stranger you must now place your trust (and heart) in his hands

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI. Norse God Mythology AU (Dave is still Dave but also the god of vengeance), fake dating, mild angst & yearning, soft & protective!Dave, creepy awful ex boyfriend & his awful friends (stalking, extreme harassment), light use of gendered language, alcohol consumption, themes & moments of violence, gun usage, blood imagery, minor character deaths, masturbation (f), soft dom!Dave, Dave’s dirty talk, use of “good girl”, oral (f!receiving), finger sucking, light spit kink, fingering, smutty thoughts, spicy themes, poetic allusions to smut (p in v)

word count: 8.9k

a/n: here’s my offering to our dear @perotovar wonderful writing challenge - the moodboard is all theirs too! Thank you for arranging for us Erin & for all the help you’ve given me, ily forever! Also a huge thank you to @pedgito & @pr0ximamidnight for always letting me scream about this wacky idea lol… now to you, if you’re reading this too I also can’t thank you enough ♡

You meet the god of vengeance at a bar. It sounds like a bad joke, but it’s true.

Except you didn’t know he was the god of vengeance then…

The situation with your ex brought you to this point and to this bar.

You feel like a cliché sitting at the counter nursing a drink. The meeting with your dad’s attorney friend went well. You just hope, wish, this all will end soon.

“You okay?” A smooth, rich, hesitant voice emerges beside you, and when you turn you’re stunned.

He’s utterly gorgeous. Dressed in a dark blazer and red tie, it’s like he just walked out of a very important conference meeting. Sharp clean shaven jaw, amazing tiger’s eye gem like gaze, beautiful aquiline nose - you didn’t even hear him approach.

You wonder if maybe he’s a hallucination.

Weakly, you reassure him you’re fine, even flash a fake smile.

His eyes wince almost like he’s heartbroken at your response. But you get it. You alone in the bar exhausted and dejected probably presents a bleak sight.

“This seat taken?” The mystery man asks, nudging at the open barstool next to you. You gently tell him it’s not.

He grins soft, under-stated and polite. There's a reassured ease you’re surprised to see in his eyes. The man turns to the bartender and orders a drink for himself and you.

The dark cloud looming around you slowly starts to dissolve.

“What’s your name?” He asks, and you happily give it to him.

“I’m Dave.” He extends his hand out respectfully. The handshake is firm, and you already can’t get over how much larger his hand is compared to yours.

You haven’t met and talked to someone like this in so long, especially with the mess you’ve been dealing with. Dating has been out of your mind completely.

“So what brings a beauty like yourself to a bar all alone?” Dave smoothly asks.

A flattered fluster runs across your face. His tone isn’t out right flirty but still curious, testing the waves.

Hesitation however tugs at you. The last time your best friend tried to set you up with one of her co workers, you accidentally let everything slip about the mess with your ex boyfriend. The guy was polite and sweet about it all but never talked to you again after that.

So you half lie and say you’ve been dealing with some legal issues. You explain how you just left meeting an attorney and dropped by this bar nearby.

Dave nods, patiently.

“That’s unfortunate. I’m sorry.” He sympathizes.

After thanking him, you now ask what brings someone like him to the bar. The man smirks, and it colors him slightly cocky but attractive like a coy rich business man.

“Just dropped by after work.” He answers and curiously you of course ask what he does.

“Oh, I’m a mercenary,” he explains simply.

That’s a new one.

“If you are, then you’re doing a bad job at keeping a low profile.” You casually tease. Dave smiles, crinkling his rich earthen eyes.

He of course reveals he works a boring government job. The small talk comes easily afterwards. He makes you laugh and is engaging to talk to. Every worry, every weight that’s been on your shoulders, ebbs away.

Eventually you excuse yourself to the bathroom, but before you move from the bar stool someone yells your name, and your heart drops.

You find Nick, your ex’s best friend, here with other guys from work. You’re terrified.

“You look scared.” Nick laughs mockingly. You’re torn between running or throwing your drink at him.

“You okay? Do you need me to call someone?” Dave swiftly asks worried, and you shake your head.

You head to the bathroom to calm yourself down. After splashing some water on your face, you simply reassure yourself to finally sober up and drive home.

But stepping out of the bathroom into the hallway, you’re not alone.

Nick sneers. “So, heard you’ve been causing my boy some trouble.”

“Your piece of shit fuck of a friend is the one causing me trouble.” You snap. Even though every cell in your body screams to hit this guy in the face, you decide to walk away.

“Fuckin’ bitch.” He curses under his breath.

Nick corners you against the wall in the tight hallway. Disgust bubbles in your throat. You try maneuvering around him, but this asshole is persistent in blocking your path.

Eventually you manage to squeeze past. Unfortunately you trip on Nick’s obviously held out foot and fall forward fast.

You hit the bar’s stone flooring hard. The asshole who tripped you laughs. Anger, embarrassment, or a deadly combination of the two swirls in your chest.

Someone however quickly steps in between you and Nick’s menacing shadow.

“Leave, before I show you out.” Hearing Dave’s voice your eyes widen. You again didn’t even hear him approach or see him walk in.

“What the fuck man, I didn’t do shit she just tripped!” Nick sneers with a snake venom infused lie.

Dave doesn’t say anything, instead helps you up with steady hands. Nick calls you a fucking cunt under his breath before he walks away.

Suddenly he trips on air falling flat on his face. The crack of the impact is loud, and he screams. Everyone close by gasps and when Nick sits up, his nose bleeds violently as crimson spills onto his work attire.

You almost want to laugh.

“Sweet revenge.” You mutter smug to yourself.

Dave chuckles low, and you smile softly to him.

His cologne, dark and rich, expensive as hell, and his deep eyes are a comfort.

The ambulance is called for Nick. Dave urges you to let the paramedics check your wounds too.

“I just need a few bandaids, that’s all.” You urge, but the sharp pleading look he gives makes you stay.

Eventually even the paramedic treating your scrapes whispers with a warm friendly grin. “Make sure to get his number.”

But when you glance out to find Dave, it’s like he disappeared into thin air. After getting the clear from the medic, you head outside to the secluded parking lot behind the bar. You want to at least thank him.

There outside in the quiet secluded lot Dave types something on his phone. Before you can even call out to him -

You literally watch Dave walk into the dark shadow of the building and disappear.

You’re sobered up. Your eyes are fine. You know what you saw. Your confusion only solidifies and gets confirmed when Dave flickers back out to the same spot from the shadows. He stares at you with dangerous cloudy eyes.

“Fuck.” He exhales.

With a sigh, this strange man nudges his chin towards you signaling to follow him. You sit in the passenger's seat of his sleek luxury car. You don’t panic. Prickling curiosity and slight confusion run through you more than fear.

“So are you like… a witch or something?” You ask weakly.

Dave barks a dry laugh.

“No, nice guess though.”

He apparently isn’t a demonic figure either, though his face darkens when you ask that.

“I wasn’t fully lying about the mercenary hitman job. I just happen to be something else.”

Specifically, he calls himself the god of vengeance.

You laugh now.

“Wait, what?” You settle confused seeing him glare unamused at you.

He says his true name -

Viðarr

The name rolls off his tongue a beautiful wave and has the hum of an ancient forest. A chill even runs up your spine.

“But after so many years and aliases, you can just call me Dave.”

This guy can’t be serious.

“You just saw me walk in and out of a shadow, but now you’re doubtful?” His eyebrows raise.

He’s right of course. But the atmosphere in the car freezes tense, like this man waits for you to react or maybe you’re waiting for him to react.

“What’s going to happen to me then?” Your voice creaks, hesitant and worried.

“Normally? I would erase your memories. But…because of your situation, this actually might work out.”

This supposed god of vengeance explains how your situation has been brought to his attention.

“I’m here to decide if that ex of yours should face retribution or not.”

Your blood runs cold. You never once mentioned your ex.

“I need at least a month to observe him. So my original plan was to try and stay close to you. But since you know about me…this might work to my advantage.” Dave explains all this as if he’s simply explaining a new insurance plan to you.

“I still need to figure out the details-”

“Just…can I please just go home…” you finally croak out cutting Dave out.

The air in the car pops.

“Uh…yeah sure.” Dave says deflated. “Do you need me to take you home?”

You shake your head no. Wearily, fighting back tears, you thank him for the drinks and for dealing with Nick.

Your head spins. You don’t know how you manage to get home. Yet you can’t stop thinking about Dave and who he truly is. His words linger, especially about how he has to observe the situation with your ex…

Your mind turns and turns.

But the next day you head back to the bar.

Leaning against his sleek car looking devilishly handsome, Dave waits.

Before he can even say anything you slide into the passenger's seat. He follows your lead.

“I have an idea.” You declare firm.

A somber, suspicious, look falls over the god of vengeance’s face. He doesn’t say anything, just nods, a signal for you to speak.

This is your plan.

Dave needs to be your fake boyfriend.

“My ex…he was the worst when he got jealous.” You explain how he even messaged and harassed an old coworker cause he was paranoid you were cheating.

So maybe now adding the pressure of a new boyfriend would make him show his true nature even more.

Dave’s eyes light up, surprised.

“That’s…not a bad idea at all.” He even mutters about how this would allow him to get better observation from your side of things.

Dave simply nods, turning to you determined.

He holds his hand out almost anti-climatic. However, that's when you realize how easy it is to shake vengeance's hand.

Later at your apartment the neighbor furthest down the hall perks up seeing you in the landing.

“Did you see?! We have someone new moving in. And he’s really cute.” He whispers while he accompanies you on your walk.

Walking up the stairs a few boxes clutter the hallway.

Dave steps out of the open door and smiles. He’s ditched the suit blazer and tie. Now his button up shirt is rolled up to his elbows. You almost choke on an inhale.

“Hey.” His voice radiates sparkling and friendly, a picture perfect sweet guy next door. “You lovely folks must be my new neighbors. I just moved in. Nice to meet you both.”

You act as nice and calm as you can when warmly greeting him. The minute you step into your apartment you try not to freak.

A solid knock comes at your door. Opening it, Dave stands grinning slightly coyish and smug.

“You got any sugar, neighbor?”

You almost slam the door in his face. But of course you let him in.

“Thought moving in would help. It makes for a good alibi, getting with the guy you just met in your apartment. Plus being close by helps to see if your ex pulls any shit.” Dave explains while he inquisitively looks around your place.

You get his logic. It just takes you by surprise.

“See you around, neighbor.” He nods with a gleam of dark playfulness brewing in his eyes.

Already this man, or this ancient being, seems like such an enigma.

That’s only confirmed when Saturday arrives and someone knocks at your door.

Dave once again stands on the other side. This time in a lightly casual outfit of a leather jacket and jeans that still seem effortlessly put together. He reminds you of a guy who owns a home in the hamptons.

“Thought we’d go out on a date. If you’re free.” He offers, and you have to force your jaw not to drop.

He ends up taking you to the city’s aquarium and pays for everything.

“We can get lunch or something afterwards if you like.” Dave suggests.

You remember this is all for show.

So you take this time as a chance to enjoy a day among the gorgeous fish and beautiful blue waves all around.

But even admiring the angelic jellyfish, a worried itch crawls at the back of your neck. Your ex has shown up at the worst time in places you never would have ever expected.

A warm hand comes against your back, and Dave’s wonderful birch cologne clouds your mind.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be here. Won’t let anything happen to you.” His voice, deep and low, is simple and absolute in his promise.

When you focus on him, the soft light of the aquarium bathes him ethereally highlighting his godly features. You can now see why he’s not a simple mortal man. Someone this gorgeous is unearthly.

As promised Dave stays close beside you. You even start relaxing so much that you ask him questions.

You had been wondering if he really does work at a government job.

“No, I run a private investigation agency. Didn’t wanna tell you that and scare you off thinking it was your ex after you.” He explains.

“How does an ancient god run an agency?” You ask dubious and slightly amused.

Dave rolls his eyes.

“The same way you’re taking this all really well. It just becomes a natural thing.” Dave says while you and him pass by a lovely stretch of coral reefs and fish. “Plus some families are in service to me, have been for centuries. So this helps them continue to work for and with me.”

“A private investigation agency must help with confirming and keeping track of things. Plus a god with a job seems humbling.” You lamely add, and he snorts.

“Yeah something like that. It also weeds out which cases aren’t fair.”

That shocks you, and you press more. Among the dreamy blue waters glossing over the room, you and Dave stroll leisurely.

“As simple as vengeance can be, I’m honor bound to only act if the situation is deemed justified.”

He even goes into detail about how situations are weighed out, determined, and how the hearts of people are almost judged. A worried heaviness arrives. You now hope your situation can pass this trail.

Thankfully the aquarium is rather vacant so you don’t worry about someone overhearing. But, you’re also wondering why Dave freely discusses this with you.

“Because you won’t remember any of this.” His answer is collected, faintly frosty and curt.

“Anytime I’ve had to talk to other mortals I normally erase their memories, along with anyone else involved, once everything is done. It keeps everyone safe.”

“Oh.” Your voice dips.

So, you won’t remember him.

“It’s for the better for everyone.” Dave adds calculated.

For some reason a strange tightness settles now over you. Dave and you stay silent the rest of this strange date.

He walks you back to your apartment door, and you politely thank him for the nice afternoon.

Resolution settles in you. You swear to not take any of this personally. After all, you won’t remember it.

For being an ancient god of vengeance, Dave is a surprisingly considerately sweet boyfriend.

He drops by with coffee and pastries when he can. After he exchanged phone numbers with you, he even sent you a meme that made you laugh. Playfully you had texted back -

Didn’t know old gods could have such a good sense of humor or could text

He sent an unamused emoji face after that.

Everyone of course takes note of Dave’s new place in your life. Your sister even wants to meet the new guy.

“I know it’s been hard… this year. But seeing you try getting back out there and hearing how good this guy is already, I’m happy for you.” She says. You swallow back the heaviness and truth wanting to slip away.

But you won’t spoil this gilded lie. You can’t.

That’s what you tell yourself when you invite Dave over for dinner at your place.

Lounging eased in your living room watching the game, he’s the picture of comfort. Especially in his casual jogger pants and soft sweatshirt.

You hate how much you enjoy seeing him in your space. It’s been isolating these past few months with how awful your ex has been. Now it’s like slowly gaining a new friend. You at least can appreciate that with Dave.

But thinking of him just as a friend is getting murky, especially since you find yourself staring at his gorgeous shoulders and cute ass while he stands in your living room.

Dave is extremely handsome, charming, playfully snarky and surprisingly perceptive. It’s hard trying not to get swept into this idea of being his.

The next date night he takes you to see a movie. Walking back from the apartment’s parking garage he offers his arm, and you greedily take it.

“Okay, next time I’m picking the movie cause I can’t trust your taste I’m sorry.” Dave argues jokingly, almost flirty. You snicker but readily argue about how good the movie was while staying linked in the crook of his elbow.

A familiar voice yells out your name, and your soul evaporates.

You freeze on instinct. From across the street, your ex approaches slowly. Your legs almost give out.

“So it’s true. You’re dating someone.” He says in disbelief. You can’t even speak, can’t handle how terrifyingly sharp his terrified eyes stare at you.

Suddenly Dave effortlessly slides in front of you, completely protectively blocking you. His hand moves to intertwine with yours.

“You need to leave.” Dave declares firm.

“I wasn’t talking to you.” Your ex fires back.

“You’re making my girlfriend upset. So that means this is my problem now.” Dave’s words cut through the air deadly, and your heart flutters.

It’s the first time he’s addressed you as that - girlfriend.

“Girlfriend? Girlfriend?!” Your ex boyfriend cries, horrified and upset. You only realize you’re shaking when Dave squeezes your hand, stabilizing you.

“Get the fuck out of here.” Dave orders with a commanding yell.

Your ex continues trying to talk to you, but it’s all nonsense, almost waterlogged with your head feeling fuzzy.

Dave shifts to now pull you completely into his side and guides you back into the apartment complex. Your ex’s voice grows more distant until you’re safe inside. Thankfully he isn’t allowed on the property anymore.

Your hand clutches Dave’s refusing to let go. He keeps you in his hold the entire time even arriving at your door.

Whenever this happens you always head to your parents or sister’s place. You already think about packing a bag.

“Hey,” Dave’s voice softly interrupts your cluttered thoughts.

“Do you…want to stay at my place tonight?”

When you turn towards him, vengeance has never looked this beautiful. His eyes are glossy, drenched with understanding.

You nod.

Dave helps grab your essentials then guides you back to his apartment. Even with the roller coaster still running in your mind, you perk up knowing you’re finally seeing his place.

It’s sleek, immaculate in its cooler toned shades. However it also radiates a spartan aesthetic. The walls are moderately barren. On the counter though various items from all the dates you’ve gone with him, like the aquarium map, litter the space.

That comforts you knowing he’s kept them.

“You can take my bed really, I don’t mind.” He offers.

You shake your head. “The couch is perfect really.”

Now stubbornly Dave sits beside you on the couch, and you snort.

“I won’t leave until you do.” Dave grins.

You snuggle into the couch more, almost defiant in pulling the blankets up. The ancient god rolls his eyes, but makes no sign of moving either.

“That ex of yours...” Dave cautiously comments.

“Yeah.” You sigh tired.

The rose colored glasses could only hide so much before the toxic emptiness swallowed you. You’re now left with the pieces of yourself you’re still grateful to have and hold together.

Dave patiently sits with you, listening attentive when you tell him everything. After unfolding your heart to him, you almost ache to know more about this mythical man.

So he tells you about ancient kings who called upon his aid for the most trivial things, to actual countries that begged for his wrath.

As he reveals so much, you notice how many shadows weigh on him, aging him in a way that speaks of the eons of trouble he’s faced. It’s like Dave houses an archaic rusted ache you could never fathom.

Something deep within your heart longs to gently run your fingers through his hair, or even hold his hand.

But these thoughts are dangerous to have for a man you won’t even remember in a month's time.

On the couch, not even paying attention to what’s on the television, simply being at peace in Dave’s company, you slowly start falling asleep.

Halfway in the night, you wake up slumped against Dave.

His warm solid shoulders, the soft rise of his chest, you’ve never been this close to him. The faint smell of his cologne mixing his fabric softener, along with something uniquely him, wraps around you a protective delicious comfort.

A delicate shift comes in your heart as you snuggle closer to him.

“I think…I’m going to extend this surveillance to another month.” Dave says when you and him quietly get ready for the morning.

The way he calls this relationship and situation a surveillance punches right through your chest. It reminds you this again is not real. You also can’t believe a month has come and gone.

When you go on another date with Dave, this time to an art museum, he readily holds your hand. It’s awful knowing something in you is crystallizing in adoration.

He’s thoughtful in admiring the art, almost plucked from a hallmark movie dream. As much as you enjoy holding Dave’s hand being by his side, you realize you need to start pulling away before you fall even harder.

Thankfully a text comes in for you to reply to. There's also an alert from Instagram.

One message comes. Then a spam of them flood your inbox. The profile that sent them is blank, and what they sent are horrendous. They call you an absolute whore, argue how you’re nothing more than a pathetic piece of trash.

Your throat gets tight, and your hands shake.

“Sweetheart? What’s wrong?” The pet name causes your heart to skip, but the panic is too much.

Wearily showing him your phone, he frowns dark.

“Only more proof I guess.” You half joke.

Dave thankfully reports the account, but the mood of the day is soured.

“Hey, let’s get something sweet, yeah?” He suggests softly rubbing your back. You agree hoping this will help.

Thankfully it does. Dave is surprisingly talkative, even discussing this one particular client who requested revenge on their old partner because he stole a family secret ice cream recipe.

“You can’t be serious.” You snicker.

“I swear on my godhood!” Dave laughs, and it paints him devilishly young. Though you do tease him for getting rum raisin, and he rolls his eyes.

Now you watch him slowly lick away at the ice cream, letting his tongue drag along the treat slowly. Your mind rapidly catches fire imagining his tongue dragging across your body in just as slow.

It’s getting harder to not want Dave, especially seeing how handsome he looks in his leather jacket and simple t-shirt.

Then at your apartment door, anxiety slowly festers. You don’t want to be alone tonight. You even hesitate grabbing your keys.

Dave tugs on your hand still holding his. “Just stay at my place. I’m heading back to the office tonight so you’ll have the place all to yourself.”

You thank him, grateful for the comfort of just not being in your apartment.

But being alone in his place might have been the worst decision. Curiosity claws into you while you wander. The space stands smaller than yours and is still so sparse. Finally stepping into his bedroom, a dangerous urge bubbles in you.

“Make yourself at home.” He did tell you, so it’s why you slowly pull the covers back and slide into Dave’s bed.

The cold gray sheets fit him. But the smell of him, swirling all around you, enveloping you, has your pussy wet.

You imagine him sleeping here, wondering what he’d look like if he’s ever fucked his fist here -

Your eyes flutter shut while your hand drifts to your underwear. You should feel shame and disgust for getting off in your fake boyfriend's bed, but you quickly rationalize you won’t remember this.

So pressing your face into Dave’s pillow you let your fingers curl into your pussy imagining it’s his thick firm fingers instead.

You come harder than expected. Exhausted and floating in post orgasmic soft bliss you wearily drift to sleep in his bed.

Until noise in the other room suddenly has you bolting up in a slight panic. Hastily you head out into the living room.

In the low light, Dave puts things away in safes and among bags. You catch glimpses of various types of weapons. The one he places back in a duffle bag is a gun. Your heart does jump at the sight, but it makes sense for a god of avenging to have many forms of it.

Dave quickly whips around spotting you.

He’s dressed very differently tonight. In all black athleisure, even wearing black beanie that intensifies his appearance, he looks every bit the hit man he once joked about being.

He says your name soft, a mutter. Your focus goes to the cut across his cheek.

“You’re injured!”

He blinks surprised at your words.

“Oh yeah, got a little hairy tonight. But it’s nothing, should heal up in a couple of hours.”

“You’re still bleeding.” You firmly rummaging around the kitchen for the small first aid kit you remember seeing in one of the drawers.

“Honey, I’m fine.” You can’t even comment on the pet name instead stubbornly grab a bandaid and disinfectant.

“I don’t need a bandaid.” He dully tells you.

“Too bad.” You huff.

Dave sighs, giving up and taking a seat on the couch. The cut isn’t bad, but you still tend to it best as you can. With the briefest glance down, you spy blood crusted over Dave’s fingers.

“So you were out… dealing with someone tonight?” You cautiously question.

He sighs. “Yeah, finally got to take out this awful piece of shit, but he put up a fight.”

You should be rattled hearing him casually discuss violence, even seeing it drying on his hands. But you’re not afraid.

“Glad you made it back safe.” You truthfully tell him.

He chuckles dry. “Always do.”

Gently placing the bandaid on his face, your fingers accidentally graze against him.

Dave appears like a normal man, a handsome business looking guy you met at the bar. But right now he seems to have shed that persona and sits before you a sort of chameleon stuck between identities.

It must be hard to compartmentalize so much like he does. And…it must be lonely.

You don’t realize you’ve gotten lost in your thoughts, allowing your fingers to absentmindedly trace across his cheeks, until Dave’s hand slowly crawls up your wrist.

You’re about to apologize until his eyes lock you in place. His daze simmers between a deep darkness and soft awareness.

His other hand now rubs up against your other arm.

“Thank you.” Dave mutters.

Cautiously he turns towards your fingers still on his face, and his eyes haze over. The hold he has on your wrist slowly drags your hand down his cheek, almost like he’s pulling your fingers to his lips. He inhales deep and instantly his eyes close. You’re hypnotized, waiting to see what he does.

Then a phone goes off, and the moment shatters.

You scramble away. Dave immediately swiftly answers his phone with a professional steeled voice.

Flustered, you’re considering maybe grabbing your things and heading back to your apartment. Dave however calls your name. Like a spooked deer, you turn. He nudges his chin at you.

“Head back to bed sweetheart, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Your mind goes blank as you nod stunned. Then everything melts away. Possessed, maybe floating on a cloud, you slip back into his sheets.

You want to stay awake, want to see him get comfortable and get into bed. But exhaustion wins pulling you back to sleep.

Strong arms slowly curl around you, the warmest protective shield. You even wonder if it’s all a dream.

Especially when you wake up alone.

On the kitchen counter sit your favorite pastries and coffee order with a note from Dave who had to leave to work early. Running into him later heading back to the apartment after work, you notice he’s still wearing the bandaid you placed on him.

It makes you grin wide.

Work eventually gets busy. You miss out on a date weekend which you see as a blessing.

You’re growing too attached to Dave and it’s dangerous. You even ignore a few of his messages he’s been sending you, blaming it on work.

Work even has you staying up late now trying to finish up a few things.

Until a sudden rush pelts against your window, and a small scream escapes you.

You’re on the second floor, what the fuck can possibly be making that noise?

Drawing back the curtains, trash greets you flying hard against the glass. You know it’s your ex and his stupid friends.

You hate that you’re about to cry and that the first person you’re calling -

Is Dave.

He picks up on the first ring.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” He rushes out on the phone.

Before you can answer, from a shadow against your living room wall Dave walks out like he emerged from a door.

Immediately his face drops seeing you and then hearing the rush of shit getting thrown at the window.

Swiftly, moving like a sleek hunter, he pulls a gun out from behind and slides between you and the window. Dave opens the window then very obviously peers out with the gun in hand.

It’s enough to scare your ex and his friends.

You wearily head to the couch and collapse in on yourself. Silent as a shadow Dave draws you into his arms and holds you close.

“Can you stay?” You weakly ask.

“Don’t even have to ask.” He mutters rubbing your back.

Camping out in the living room with piles of blankets and pillows, Dave pulls up a seat against the window, keeping the gun in hand.

Your eyes fully take in the sight of him staring out keeping watch, a haunting stoic sight of brewing composed wrath.

He drips of an ancient blood, old as the galaxies themselves or possibly even older, and you want to cradle that violence in your hands.

“Do I scare you?” He asks quietly in the evening’s abyss.

Still lying on the couch, among your blankets, you shake your head no.

“Feel safe with you.” You mutter truthfully. This is the safest you’ve felt in so long.

You fall asleep without any worry knowing he’s nearby.

After that night, and for the rest of the month, he’s either at your place or you’re at his. One of your chairs becomes a constant spot where he sets his jackets. Your toothbrush keeps his company in his bathroom.

When you’re facetiming with your sister he accidentally walks by, and immediately she perks up.

“Is that the secret mystery man?!” She cries out.

Dave awkwardly waves but charms her with his smile.

“You need to invite him for my big promotion dinner this Friday.” She urges with a hiss.

You snap at her fierce, but when you hang up Dave quietly asks -

“So what time is dinner Friday?”

You throw the nearest couch pillow at him.

But a man to his word, he’s happy to accompany you.

Friday arrives and he’s in a deep navy blue blazer combo that makes your throat dry. His eyes also scan you up and down very blatantly.

“You look lovely tonight.” He mutters, and you thank him saying he looks just as amazing.

And he does.

Your sister playfully nudges you with her elbow. “He’s hot.”

Her husband, your brother in law, even jokes that Dave’s a handsome catch.

Which, to your family, he is. Dave is warm, the absolute dream boyfriend anyone could even imagine.

He pulls out your mom’s chair, happily puts up with your dad’s long stories, bonds really fast with your brother in law and is sweet to your little twin nieces who ramble about their soccer matches. Your heart aches just seeing him interact with everyone and how much they already adore him.

The only thing keeping you afloat is that you, nor them, will remember any of this. But it also haunts you.

You smile fake through it all.

Then during dessert Dave’s hand unprompted moves to rest against your leg. His hand on your skin, so close to the edge of your dress, all of this under the cover of the dinner table sends an electric dizzying current across your body.

Slowly his thumb starts rubbing against your skin, softly, delicately like he has all the time in the world or isn’t bothered about your dad complaining about his work buddies again.

You keep your composure as best as you can.

When the check comes Dave quickly snags it up and doesn’t hesitate sliding his card in to pay. It wins huge points with everyone. Your family showers Dave in thanks and warm embraces.

“Like this guy, happy for you.” Your dad says low while he hugs you tight, and you blink back the tears.

“Yeah dad, me too.”

The car ride back to the apartment, you’re silent.

Dave however tries to push through the tension talking all about your family.

“They’re lovely. Your nieces are adorable too. One of them was constantly trying to make me laugh the entire time.”

You smirk while still remaining quiet.

“Hey… you alright?” He of course notices. You also make

no sign of following him back to his apartment.

“Just let me get a few things and I’ll be over in a bit-”

“No Dave, it’s okay. I think I just wanna be alone tonight.”

You cut him off gently.

A moment of silence comes. You’re thankful he doesn’t push, just wishes you goodnight and heads to his apartment.

The silence eats at your insides leaving you empty.

The next morning you don’t wait to walk out with him or even text him. For an entire week you stay quiet and try avoiding him as much as possible.

Then on Monday, flowers wait for you on your desk. All you coworkers coo at the beautiful blooms.

Your heart however melts at the card.

Thinking of you, hope you’re alright.

It’s simple, very Dave.

After work you start typing out a thank you text to send to Dave, including a photo of the flowers.

New footsteps echo in the parking garage, and you don’t think much of them. Until you hear Nick’s slimey voice say your name.

Turning around, he casually saunters with the smuggest sneer.

“You okay? You don’t look too good.” He grins bigger as he continues walking towards you.

He’s just here to scare you, especially since he works close by and now that you put the restraining order on your ex.

Walk away and get to your car, the voice in your head, now sounding so much like Dave, urges.

You turn on your heels and rush to your car.

“You’re such a god damn fucking bitch, you know that?” He yells still behind you.

Calm, you try remaining calm.

Then someone runs up from behind. Everything dissolves into pure fear. You turn around and there Nick rushes forward to you in a frenzied terrifying glee.

Dave suddenly emerges from the other side of another parked car and grabs Nick.

“What the fuck?!” Nick cries. “Where the hell did you come from?”

Dave quietly glares deathly cold at Nick.

Then a snap comes, a popping of bone and Nick screams in pure pain cradling his hand. Dave stares composed, unbothered.

“You broke my fucking fingers, what the fuck?!” Nick snarls.

With his good hand, Nick moves to punch Dave.

You cry out in a panic.

Dave, no…the god of vengeance now before you, in his hand captures Nick’s fist before it can even land a hit, casually holding him back.

Fluidly, with a nightmarish grace, Dave twists Nick’s arm back forcefully in disarming him from an attack. Another crack of bone and Nick cries out again.

The god leans in close to Nick.

“You try harassing my girl again and I will make this much worse.” He says low, lethal.

Nick screams like a caged animal until Dave shoves him away. For a moment you’re terrified Nick is going to charge, try throwing another fist, but he scurries away like a broken little rat.

Dave’s gaze, empty and cold, watches Nick the entire time until he’s gone. Then the mask falls as he rushes to you with the most worried frown.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

You are, thanks to him. You’re still trying to process fully what happened.

“What are you doing here?” You manage to ask.

“After that text you sent, I came up to check up on you.” Dave answers.

When you check your phone, he’s right. You had been in the middle of typing out your text to Dave when Nick had showed up. The text became a mess of letters that you had accidentally sent.

“Didn’t seem like you.” Dave adds.

His hand softly drags across your cheek with the most delicate pressure, like moth wings, and it electrifies your heart. Your eyes snap to Dave. His face is harder than ever to read, foggy in thick emotions.

Before he can put you anymore under his spell, you move first. Thanking him for showing up and for protecting you, you return to head back to your car. Dave stays in step with you, offering to drive you home, and you let him.

Quietly you finally thank him for the flowers and apologize for forgetting them.

“It’s fine.” He reassures you. “I’ll just have to send you more.”

His voice soothes you, and you almost grin.

Back at the apartment a mess of feelings get tangled in you.

“Do you need me to stay?”

You shake your head no to Dave.

After a small pause, he wishes you well and a good night.

But you can’t sleep. And Dave continues haunting you. It's why you’re now across the hall knocking on his door after midnight.

He answers quickly. You’re surprised to discover him in the all dark outfit except this time without a beanie and with how wild his short hair looks you wonder if he just yanked it off.

He breathes your name with worried eyes.

“I’m sorry. Can I…stay over?” Your voice is small, worried.

He welcomes you in without hesitation.

You keep your gaze away from his, but that's when you catch the blood on his hands. This time the blood is fresh.

“Are you okay?” You squawk panicked.

“Oh. Uh yeah. Nothing serious.” Dave shrugs.

He effortlessly changes the subject telling you about the new restaurant he wants to try with you.

“Go lay down, honey. I’ll be with you soon.” He urges. You don’t want to fight him. You should but don’t.

In his bedroom you watch him undress for the night. His bare shoulders are stunning and you want to kiss the gorgeous pudge of his soft stomach. The delicate warm light paints him a dream.

“Dave��” you ask, fading in and out of sleep now among the safety of him.

“Yeah?”

“Do you get lonely?” Your words slip out.

He doesn’t answer for a moment.

“Why do you ask that?”

Sleepily you shrug already groggy.

“Just seems like you are.” You admit through a yawn.

You see it in the hollows of his apartment, in the somber looks that create cocoons in his eyes from time to time.

You’re worried you’ve upset Dave with how quiet he gets. Instead his hand moves to turn off the light by the nightstand. You notice he’s holding something else in his grasp.

“Don’t worry about me. Get some sleep, sweetheart.”

You nod at his words, closing your eyes.

But before you fall to sleep, you swear you saw Dave holding a phone with an obnoxious neon and black green case… one that looked exactly like Nick’s.

The next morning Dave is gone again, this time leaving you various breakfast bars to take.

Back at your apartment you scroll taking a break from getting ready. Someone posted in their story about Nick not coming home and that no one has heard from him.

You try not to focus on that and head to work.

More flowers, as promised, wait on your desk.

“You’re so lucky.” Your favorite coworker gushes. You weakly grin at her.

The day goes by slowly. Until your sister calls you frantic over the phone.

Your ex had showed up at your nieces school.

You feel sick. Your boss thankfully lets you leave, but you’re barely aware of how your body moves. You even forget the flowers again.

Yet your hands shakily manage to make a call.

“Hope you liked the flowers.” Dave answers smooth, almost purr like.

All you do is croak out his name. In the instant of getting off the elevator, Dave emerges from the shadow of the hallway. You’re thankful no one is around, but then again, you could care less now.

“What happened?” He frowns hard.

Telling him everything, you crumble sobbing in Dave’s arms.

“I know sweetheart, I know.” His sincerely comforting voice and warm arms all wrap around you.

He places a soft kiss on your head.

“Come on, let’s head home.” He guides you to the shadow, holding you tight. In a simple step you’re walking right out into your living room.

So, that’s what it’s like.

Sitting down everything feels too much, yet numbing all at once.

“This is all my fault.” You mutter, vacant.

If you hadn’t dated that fucker, you wouldn’t be here.

“No,” Dave says firmly. His eyebrows are furrowed hard, stern and upset. “None of this is your fault.”

A numb nod is all you give.

The window suddenly shatters. A rock flies into your room and you scream.

“You fucking bitch, I know you did something to Nick!” Your ex howls from outside. “You and that fucking creep boyfriend of yours!”

This can’t be happening. How did he even know you were home?

Dave moves swift. He protectively pulls you further away from the living room. Reaching into the inky shadows, he pulls out a large duffle bag. From that Dave unpacks a firearm. Not just any gun, a sleek sniper rifle. He readies the weapon up and out the window.

It’s a dead threat in the middle of the day. Dave’s face completely composed reminds you of a hunter.

And he’s beautiful.

The sight of Dave and that terrifying weapon must have scared your ex because there’s no sign of him after that. You even delete all your social media now out of fear.

Dave takes care of everything. Discussing the window break with the building's supervisors, even calling the cops to report what happened.

You now sit in Dave’s living room.

“Viðarr.”

You speak his true name, the one that feels incredibly scared and almost too holy on your tongue. The air in the room tightens fast. Dave, who halfway is trying to figure out what to make for dinner, stops.

A grave expression paints him an ancient terror.

Your stare back at him is just as serious.

“I need vengeance.” No more. You can’t handle any more of this.

Dave, quiet, silent as a shadow, nods. That’s all, the agreement of it. It seems so very anticlimactic.

“You know,” he mutters. “By accepting this…you have to give something up.”

Dave had told you about this briefly. Once he accepts a case, takes up the mantle of retribution, it comes at a price. You must offer something up.

“I’ll let you think about it.” He mutters.

But you don’t need to. You shake your head.

Slowly, possessed, yet never feeling more solid in your decision you walk to Dave’s bedroom.

Politely you sit on the bed.

Dave follows you and stares with a furrowed brow.

“What are you doing?”

“Me,” you say low. “I’m offering myself. Whatever you need.”

Dave’s flint eyes go wide. He swallows hard, a small crack in his composed armor.

“That’s…I can’t accept.” His voice croaks.

“Why not?” You frown hard.

He exhales, running a hand over his face.

“Because…you…” he pauses for a moment.

“It’s dangerous to want you the way I do. And accepting… don’t know if I’m strong enough to deny you.”

You inhale sharp.

He removes his hand from his face and now stands a man composed of stardust and beautiful retribution.

“There are other things you can offer.” He offers a weak attempt to persuade you. Yet he slowly walks to you, a hunter before prey.

You shake your head.

Cautiously, now that he stands so close you grab Dave’s hand. Slowly, hesitantly, you guide his hand up to your heart then rest your hand above his.

“This…I’m yours.” You admit weakly.

This is your oath, your sacrifice and offering. Though it does not feel like a burden of an effigy, no source of pain or flames of anguish over this decision.

It almost feels holy and sacred in its simplicity.

Your heart will always follow him, Dave, Viðarr, whichever form or soul he took, yours would be tied to him.

“It’s…that’s not an easy sacrifice.” His voice is thick, laced with a burnt hidden depth you take comfort in.

“For you it is.” You reply.

Something shifts in Dave, like his eyes waver and humanity shines through, a shimmering gloss over.

His hand over your heart moves slowly gliding up your chest, up your neck. His hand on your skin blazes a heated path. Now he cradles your face

“Oh baby….” He hoarsely says, and your world collapses to be reborn in an instant.

“I’m yours.” You whimper.

Dave kisses you with a collision of a star being created. It’s nipping teeth and a fierce passion that immediately has him licking into your mouth as if he’s trying to swallow you whole.

He’s unrelenting, a war general on a mission as his hands immediately start to peel off your clothes.

You now lie only in your underwear on his bed. You should feel exposed, almost awkward that he still wears all his clothes, but for some reason it heightens your arousal. Being bare and laid up for him as offering…

“You swear?” Dave croaks, a final offering for you to back down.

You nod firm and absolute. “I swear.”

He nods.

“Then I'll be your justice for you. All yours, and you’ll be mine.”

Your heart flutters. Revenert, you thank him and whisper his name, a debauched prayer.

Dave pounces on you fast.

He licks a trail up your chest to your neck, biting when he can and you whine.

“So fucking sweet.” He slurs, nibbling at your chest and sucking at your nipple.

His tongue swirling across your skin has your mind melting.

“Open your mouth for me, baby.” But then he quickly demands.

Rising up, Dave leans above you and you willingly open your mouth.

He takes a moment to gaze at you, then effortlessly spits down into your mouth. You feel dizzy when it hits your tongue. You greedily swallow, closing your eyes.

“Good fucking girl.”

That makes you feel even more electrified.

“Oh you like when I call you that huh?” Dave says slurred.

How? How can he tell? Your face must tell him everything as his hands begin to slither all across your body.

“I can smell you.” He whispers thick.

That truth hits you breathless. He’s not a normal man. Of course he would have heightened senses.

“That night… that night you slept in my bed. I smelt you still on your fingers and in my bed.” Dave admits.

You moan half embarrassed and half drunk.

“Almost took you right then and there.” He reveals. His large hand cups your jaw, rubbing his thumb hard across your lips.

“You want more? My good girl wants more, huh?”

“Yeah.” You nod feeling every inhibition slip away.

He kisses down your body then when he reaches your core, he presses his face against you and deep.

Dave groans like he got punched in the stomach.

“Shit, wanna fucking eat you alive.” He slurs, biting at you gently through the fabric of your panties.

“Dave, please.” You squirm wanting more, begging him for him.

“My sweet girl, so polite.” He kisses your pussy over your underwear then rips it apart. You gasp, and he kisses your thigh.

“I’ll buy you more.” Dave mumbles dark.

He drinks all you give you, sends you to a new realm. His fingers fuck into you wild and reckless as he sucks at your clit possessed. It feels like your world is being destroyed in the most beautiful little death. Then his fingers curl against that oh so delicious spot making you scream.

“Yeah baby, give it to me.” He growls.

You come hard clutching at Dave’s hair.

His face glistens, and you feeling possessive now pull him to you. You kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips, and it’s divine.

Drunk on this moment, you bring his fingers that were inside of you into your mouth

The thickness of Dave’s fingers, the salt of his skin mixing with your cum, it all has your eyes rolling back.

“Oh fuck yes, good girl, suck on ‘em.” He purrs, moving his fingers in and out.

Soon enough he pushes them back a bit further, making you gag but he urges you on sweetly. He suddenly pulls his fingers into his mouth and sucks them now closing his eyes.

“We taste so good together.” He hoarsely sighs.

“Dave… Vidðarr.” You whisper both his names.

His lips find yours in a blazing force.

This god takes apart your world and carves it new. You’ve never had someone touch you with the reverence of a sacred altar, yet also fuck you raw like you were his to destroy.

Your legs can barely move, and you simply now exist a blissed out puddle on Dave’s bed. But you happily bask in his arms.

“So much for fake dating.” You joke.

Dave smirks against your forehead.

“Stopped being fake a while ago.” He admits, and you curl into him more.

“You know, I’ve wanted to ask.” You shift in his arms to get a better look at his handsome clean shaven face. You feel smug seeing the bite marks, your marks, across his delicious exposed throat.

“How did you even find me?” You ask. He mentioned that sometimes some people pray to him, even try to summon him.

You did none of that. He did tell you once that everyone in your life wished for justice for you, and it’s why he possibly was summoned. But you were never satisfied with that.

Dave exhales. “Your soul called to me. I just answered.”

His words flutter through your chest. You’re the one now leaning forward to kiss him.

But then sorrow tarnishes this moment.

“When…when will you erase my memory?” You just hope he will give you a heads up, let you prepare.

Dave pulls back, and his face is scrunched up in confusion.

“You’re mine now. Don’t need to wipe your memory.”

His words rush into you but in the best way. A relieved sob escapes and you rush to pepper so many kisses across his face.

Dave smirks soaking it all up, a pleased cat in the sun..

Eventually he does get up, and with the shadows that drape over him, he becomes the hands of wrath and retribution. Your vengeance.

Those hands cradle your face tenderly.

“I have to honor my end of the oath. I’ll be back.” Dave doesn’t need to say more, and you don’t need to either. He kisses you softly then melts into the darkness.

The god vengeance doesn’t return until the late night, witching hour.

He’s covered in blood, hauntingly so, but it paints him a warrior.

Dave moves to kneel before you.

Gently, his blood hands place something in your palm. You’re reminded of a cat that brings its owner dead mice to show it can protect and bring you prey.

Instead you discover your ex’s college class ring, the one he was never seen without.

You want to laugh. You want to cry.

Instead you slide out of bed and gently kiss Dave gentle. You wordlessly lead him into the bathroom. With sacred grace you peel off Dave’s clothes.

His eyes, soft and dark, never leave you. In the warm shower, you wash him clean with all the thanks and adoration you can muster.

Dave eventually gathers you in his arms and under the warm, you let it cleanse something deep in you.

Here, you find a new home safe within the arms of vengeance and you hope he never lets you go.

[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 :((

[latenightreadingpdf]

Hidden in Plain Sight (2) - Dave Lizewski

₊‧⁺˖⋆ Masterlist ⋆˖⁺‧₊ ☽◯☾ ₊‧⁺˖⋆ Part 1 ⋆˖⁺‧₊ ☽◯☾ ₊‧⁺˖⋆ Part 3 ⋆˖⁺‧₊

Summary: When Y/S/N saves Kick-Ass from a dangerous situation, he becomes obsessed with trying to uncover her true identity. Little does he know, Y/S/N is a girl from his school who secretly has a crush on him as well. As they patrol together, their worlds collide in ways neither expected, leading to a surprising revelation about who's really behind the mask.

Y/S/N - Your superhero name

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Monday couldn’t have come fast enough. Dave was jittery with excitement and nerves as he met up with Todd and Marty outside school. Clutching his hastily scribbled list of suspects, he gave the rundown.

"Alright, guys, these are the girls who could be her. We’ll watch them, check out their voices, see if anything clicks. If one looks even a little familiar from the other night, I’ll try to talk to her after class."

Todd smirked, looking over the list. "You’re gonna stare down all these girls and hope one of them gives you a hint?”

"Exactly," Dave nodded, grinning. "This’ll work. It has to.”

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

In first period, Dave’s mission began. The first girl on the list, Emily Sanders, sat two rows ahead of him. He stared at her intently, trying to imagine her face under Y/S/N’s mask. She had dark hair, like Y/S/N, but she looked over her shoulder at him with a disgusted expression and promptly switched seats.

Strike one.

In the next class, he focused on Lisa Connelly, suspect number two. Every time she moved or talked, Dave leaned a little closer, hoping to catch some flash of familiarity. Eventually, Lisa’s friend whispered something to her, and she gave Dave a strange look before moving to a different part of the room.

Strike two.

The third girl, Brianna Torres, noticed his staring almost immediately. After class, he mustered up the courage to talk to her, but she barely let him get a word in before brushing past him, muttering, “Creep.”

At the end of the day, Dave regrouped with Todd and Marty as they walked home, pulling out his list with a sigh. “I crossed three off today,” he said, folding the list back up.

Todd nodded. “Marty and I managed to cross one off too. I guess she’s not Susie. That leaves… what, three?”

Dave nodded, relieved. "Right. We’ll hit those three tomorrow. We’re close, I can feel it.”

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

That night, he suited up in his Kick-Ass costume, the mask and jumpsuit a comfort now as he headed out on patrol. The list was still gnawing at the back of his mind, though, as he roamed the city streets, keeping an eye out for any sign of trouble—or maybe even a glimpse of Y/S/N.

And just like clockwork, her voice called out from behind him.

“Hey, Kick-Ass.”

He whirled around, trying not to look as startled as he felt, hands suddenly sweaty under his gloves. “H—hey,” he managed, aiming for casual but landing somewhere between awkward and shaky.

She walked up beside him, giving him a friendly nod as they began to patrol together in easy silence.

After a bit of small talk about superhero stuff, he started throwing out questions, subtle but probing, hoping they’d reveal something about her identity. But she sidestepped each one with a smooth answer, too clever to let anything slip.

Eventually, a small lull fell over the conversation. Dave’s mind raced, wanting to ask something—anything—that would get him closer to figuring out who she was. Then, before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “So, uh… how’s it going with that Dave guy from your school?”

She let out a soft laugh behind her mask. “Oh, that? You don’t want to hear about my dumb crush.”

“No!” he said, maybe a bit too loudly, his voice cracking as he stumbled to recover. “I mean, I want to help. You know… give some advice, or whatever.”

She glanced at him, the amusement clear in her eyes even with her mask on. “Alright. I mean, I’d love some advice, but… I don’t think he likes me back anyway.”

“What? No way! You’re—you’re amazing! Like, I don’t think anyone wouldn’t like you,” he said, the words tumbling out before he could think.

“Thanks,” she replied softly. Then her voice took on a more teasing tone, as if she knew something he didn’t. “But it doesn’t help that he’s been staring at a bunch of other girls in class. It’s like he doesn’t even notice me.”

Dave swallowed, the heat rising to his cheeks. “Oh… uh… really?”

“Mhm,” she said, and there was a smile in her tone. “I sit near him in calculus. Not that I pay much attention—I’m usually too busy looking at him to focus on anything else.”

His mind spun as he absorbed her words. Calculus… that narrowed it down a lot. And then it hit him. Y/N. She sat right near him in calculus. His heart nearly skipped a beat.

Holy crap, it’s Y/N! How did I not figure this out sooner?

As the realization sank in, his nerves took over. He didn’t know what came over him, but he started stumbling over his words, trying to come up with a quick excuse. “Uh—um, yeah, s-sorry I’ve got to go… um… feed my cat! Yeah, feed my cat. She’s probably hungry. But uh… you should talk to Dave! To see if he likes you back.”

Before she could respond, he took off running, practically tripping over his feet in his rush to get away. “I’ll, uh, see you around!”

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

When he got home, Dave immediately grabbed his phone, texting Todd and Marty.

Dave: Guys… I figured out who Y/S/N is.

Todd: Seriously? Who?

Dave: Y/N. You know, the Y/N from our calc class.

Marty: No way. Isn’t she, like, super hot?

Todd: Dude, how the hell did you manage to get someone like her into you? That’s insane.

Dave rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t hide the goofy grin on his face. After shutting off his phone, he lay in bed, his mind spinning. He’d done it. He’d actually figured out who Y/S/N was. And more than that… she liked him, even when he was just awkward, nerdy Dave.

He closed his eyes, trying to calm down, but sleep wouldn’t come. All he could think about was Y/N—her laugh, her teasing, and, most of all, the fact that she was hiding right under his nose all along.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The next morning, Dave woke up with a renewed sense of purpose—and anxiety. Today, he was going to talk to Y/N. For once, he put a bit more effort into his appearance, doing his hair carefully and choosing an outfit that looked cooler than his usual. He even checked himself in the mirror before leaving, feeling oddly confident.

As soon as he got to school, he found Todd and Marty, who were waiting to discuss the plan.

“So, how are you gonna talk to her?” Todd asked, nudging him.

“Yeah, like, you actually need to have a game plan,” Marty added.

Before he could answer, Todd’s eyes widened, and he slapped Dave’s shoulder. “Dude, there she is! At her locker. Right now.”

Dave’s stomach did a nervous flip as he looked over to see Y/N grabbing her books from her locker. She looked effortlessly perfect, and he suddenly felt like he had no idea what he was doing.

“Holy shit, what do I even say?” he muttered, feeling himself start to freak out.

“Just go talk to her!” Todd whisper-shouted, nudging him forward.

But as they all panicked in silence, Y/N shut her locker and walked away toward her class. The three of them deflated, watching her go.

“Damn it!” Dave sighed, running a hand over his face.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

By the time calculus class rolled around, Dave was still on edge. When he walked in, he saw Y/N already seated and scrolling through her phone. He’d been planning all morning to talk to her before class, but now that she was right there, the nerves came rushing back. He chickened out and went straight to his seat, cursing himself internally.

But damn, she looked good.

Throughout the class, he found himself glancing her way, completely forgetting where he was. It was like she was the only person in the room, and every time she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear or shifted in her seat, he’d find himself staring all over again.

When the bell rang, Dave started gathering his stuff, still kicking himself for not making a move. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone approaching him. He looked up, and his heart nearly stopped.

It was her.

“Hey, Dave,” Y/N said with a sweet smile, her voice soft.

“H-hey, Y/N. What’s up?” he replied, hoping he sounded calm.

She looked a little shy, almost as if she were working up the courage to ask him something. “Um, I’m not doing too well in this class, and the teacher mentioned you’re, like, the best in here. I was hoping you could maybe… tutor me?”

His mind raced. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod. He managed to nod, practically shouting, “Uh, y-yeah, of course!”

Y/N giggled, reaching into her bag and pulling out a small piece of paper. “Perfect! Here’s my number. Just text me when you’re free to help.”

She flashed him another smile, thanking him one more time before turning to walk away, a subtle smirk playing at her lips. Dave stared after her, feeling like he’d just ascended to another dimension. He could still smell a hint of her perfume lingering in the air around him, and he was left completely dazed.

Oh god, he thought, staring down at the paper in his hand. I’m so screwed.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

At lunch, Dave clutched the small piece of paper with Y/N’s number in his hand like it was a lifeline. He spotted Todd and Marty at their usual table and dropped into his seat, quieter than usual.

Todd noticed immediately, squinting at him. “Dude, what’s with you? You look… weird.”

Dave took a deep breath and held up the paper. “I got Y/N’s number.”

Both Todd and Marty’s eyes went wide, and they immediately broke out into grins.

“Are you serious?!” Todd said, practically jumping up from his seat.

“It’s not like that!” Dave blurted, trying to stay calm. “She just wants me to tutor her in calc. She thinks I’m good at it or something.”

“Still, that’s her number, man!” Marty elbowed him. “So, what’s your plan? Are you going to flirt with her? Sit super close? Or maybe pull the classic ‘oh no, I forgot my textbook’ move?”

Dave groaned. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I’ll probably just wing it.”

Marty rolled his eyes. “Yeah, ‘cause that always works out so well for you.”

“Come on, man!” Dave gave him a slap on the arm. “I’m not that bad at talking to her.”

The boys kept laughing, teasing him over possible things he could say, until eventually they switched to discussing a new comic that had just come out. But while Todd and Marty debated storylines, Dave couldn’t concentrate. His mind was on Y/N—and what he was actually supposed to text her.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

As soon as Dave got home from school, he went straight to his room, staring down at his phone, crafting the perfect text. His thumbs hovered over the screen before he finally typed:

"Hello, it’s Dave Lizewski from calculus class. Can’t wait to start tutoring you! Are you available after school tomorrow?"

He cringed, instantly deleting it. No, way too eager.

He tried again.

"Hey Y/N, it’s Dave from calc. Did you want to meet up tomorrow after school for tutoring?"

This time, it seemed more casual. He read it over about twenty times, taking a deep breath before finally hitting send. To his surprise, Y/N’s reply came back almost immediately.

Y/N: Hey Dave :) After school works for me. I’ll meet you in the library?

Dave grinned, typing back, “Yeah, sounds good.”

He set his phone down, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. He couldn’t believe it was happening; he was actually going to meet up with Y/N outside of class. But just as he started to relax, he remembered something else—Kick-Ass was due out on the streets tonight, too. And he’d almost definitely run into Y/S/N. Or, well, Y/N.

He let out a frustrated sigh, grabbing his suit and getting ready. How am I supposed to keep this whole thing a secret while tutoring her and fighting crime with her alter ego?

Little did he know, Y/N had already figured it out.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

A/N ~ I got a little carried away while writing so now there’s going to be a part 3

[rockstarslutt]

nsfw alphabet for james pls ?? i loves ur dave one ☺️☺️

Hey!!! I love nsfw alphabets and I obv also love James so I really hope I didn’t fuck up and made it good. Ty for the request and sorry I responded so late.

Also I decided to make it in the 90s era cuz that’s the hottest.

____________________________________________

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Because he’s extremely rough he would literally wreck your body, but he also loves you very much and needs to take care of you afterwards. He’d carry your bridal style to the shower and get in with you, cleaning you and worshipping your body.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs)

James is a tits guy and don’t tell me otherwise. Big or small he loves them. He loves seeing them bounce while he’s ramming into you, or grabbing them out of nowhere. And even sucking on them!

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Being a tits lover, he’d pull out and cum all over your chest. If he’s giving you backshots, he’d pull out, flip you and cum all over them. Even better if he’s fucking your head.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

James carries a Polaroid of your tits in his wallet🤭

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

If it’s in the early 80s he’s pretty much just searching for his own high, but in the late 80s and later he’s fucking you like he owns your body. He knows what you like and where you like it and will torture you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He loves seeing you ride him. He has a bottom view of your boobs and even if you’re on top, he still has control over you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s all the way serious. He’s focused on you and you only. Your high, his high. That’s it. If you ask him 2+2 he’d say 6.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

James is a hairy guy, but not too hairy. The sexy kind. He’d never shave completely because he thinks it feels weird, so he only grooms a bit of it gets uncomfortable.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Only on special occasions he’ll be romantic and loving. The other times he would fuck you like he hates you. But you like it so there’s nothing to complain about.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

James jerks off a lot. He can’t control his hormones so he just jerks off when he can’t fuck you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding kink. He always talks about getting you pregnant. He points out how good you’ll look with a belly. You think it’s just a thought that turns him on… or is it something more?

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Bed, couch, table, car, studio, pool. You name it. If it exists, he’ll fuck you in it.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Dirty talking. He loves when you guys are flirting, even though you’re together. Flirting just makes his dick throb.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Being the possessive guy he is, he’s the biggest threesome hater. He’d never share you with no one. Not even his band mates. He wants you all to himself.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He adores eating you out. He thinks you taste amazing and hearing the little moans and whines makes him so horny. He’d slurp your juices like the thirsty man he was. But he loves receiving too. He’s fuck your head like you’re some kind of pillow while you gag around him (that’ll be fine).

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

As I mentioned before, he’s fucking you fast. It doesn’t matter how many times he cums. He needs you to literally writhe beneath him.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He’s not a big fan of quickies. He likes some good, long sex. He’s not finished until he’s tired, so quickies are not his favourite.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

James is very risky. Fingering you under he table is the least he’d to. He’d make you sit on his lap while he grinds against your heat.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can go for about 10 orgasms, that’s for sure. Cum doesn’t stop him from fucking you. He needs that satisfaction that he ducked his girl rough and hard.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He rarely uses them on you. Only when he’s in the mood to destroy you. He’d overstimulate you with a vibrator against your clit while he fucks your pussy, and with a plug in the ass.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

James doesn’t have the patience to tease you. He wants you then and there, and he’ll fuck you with no hesitation.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

More than low grunts and growls he’d only whisper dirty shit in your ear.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He gets turned on when he sees you eating ice cream or licking a lollipop.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

A solid 7 inches. Maybe 7.5 when he’s hard. He thick and has big and heavy balls.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Sex drive is very high. Like insane. All he thinks about it sex. He’s also hella horny.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Not until you fall asleep. He also loves watching you sleep, hearing the breaths and your heartbeat while your chest rises and falls.

____________________________________________

[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

[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

[mustainegf]

mm cockwarming dilf!dave mustaine🤤🤤..

ohmygof i need dave so bad😣

Good god, cock warning is so hot, and with Dave?? Omgggg

𝟐𝟎 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐒 ²⁰⁰⁷

Dave was pacing in his dressing room, his usual preshow jitters evident in his restless movements. His fiery red hair caught the light every time he crossed, and his eyes were a storm. He was always like this before a performance, i knew he wasn’t scared, he just wanted to do his best.

“Hey,” I whispered, stepping closer to him. His eyes quickly found mine as he rested his palms on my hips. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he breathed out, though the way his eyes roved over me told me he needed a lot more than just reassurance. There was a something there, a raw need that it seems only I could fulfill. “I just… I need you.”

My heart sped at his whispers. “We don’t have much time, you’re on in 20 minutes,” I reminded him softly, glancing at the clock on the wall. But I could see the pleading in his eyes, the way he pretty much begged me with his gaze.

“I know, but please… just for a bit, I need to relax,” he begged, his voice husky already.

I smiled, and another word, I guided him to sit down on the small couch in the corner of the room. The leather cushions sank and squeaked beneath our weight as I straddled his lap, feeling the hardness of his arousal against my clothed cunt. His hands gripped my hips, and I could feel the tremor of his need vibrating through his thick fingers.

I quickly pulled off my jeans and skimpy panties, one that’s dave had bought me. His eyes feasted on me as I straddled him again, helping him quickly undo his zipper and shimmy his boxers down.

Slowly, I sank down onto him, feeling every inch of him stretching and filling me. We both groaned in unison, the intimate connection seeming to soothe him. His head fell back against the couch, eyes closed as he drowned the feeling.

I began to move, but he stopped me, his hands tightening on my hips. “No, just stay like this,” he murmured. “Just stay with me.”

I nodded, understanding what he needed. We stayed like that, joined together, with me sitting on his lap, cockwarming him.

I brushed my fingers through his hair, tracing the lines of his face, his rough stubble scratching the pads of my fingers. “You’re amazing, you know that? You’re going to kill it out there tonight.”

His eyes opened, watching me with a satisfaction Id never seen from him before. “God, I love you,” he breathed, his hands moving to cup my face, pulling me down for a kiss.

Minutes passed, and I could feel the pleasure in his body building, just from the mere feeling of me sitting there, completely still. “Dave, honey,” I whispered against his lips, “we’re running out of time.”

He groaned, a sound gruff with frustration, he was so horny, I could tell. “I know,” he panted. Reluctantly, he lifted me off of him, his hands trembling, I could tell how hard it was for him to pull out, the feeling leaving. “I need to finish.”

I watched as he wrapped his hand around his cock, the sight of him so horny, his hand so frantic. He began to stroke himself, his eyes locked onto mine. “Tell me,” he groaned. “Tell me to cum.”

“Cum for me, Dave,” I whispered, with a grin. “Do it, baby. I want to see you cum.”

His hand moved faster, his eyes never leaving mine. “Fuck,” he groaned, his eyes rolling back as his orgasm hit him. He came pretty hard, thick spurts of cum spilling all over his hand, body shaking.

“Thank you, baby—fuck—thank you…”

“Anytime.” I smiled, watching his face return to normal.

Dave turned back to me, a slight bit of regret in his gaze. “I’m sorry there wasn’t time for me to make you cum,” he whispered. Dave reached out, his hand brushing gently against my cheek. “You know I hate leaving you like this.”

I smiled, leaning into him. “It’s okay, really,” I reassured, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “You can make it up to me after the show.”

[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. 

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