#dennis baker x female!reader

[littlelioncub43]

Fluffy smutty thots about Dennis Baker:

Oh, how this man is hooked on you. He's dedicated to your happiness, your comfort, your love. He tells you that he'll do anything for you, serve you however you want, all you have to do is say the word and it's done. But what gets him dizzy and shy is how you give him the love he gives you so freely. He's not used to receiving those gentle kisses you scatter across his face. He's not used to receiving the calming eye contact you give as you listen to him talk about his day. Nor is he used to receiving the genuine laughs and smiles at his jokes, the ones he makes for a chance to hear them or see them. He's not used to being desired as deeply as he desires you. The feeling of being cared for is entirely new to Den, it was foreign, almost unnatural. But once he got a taste of it, he couldn't get enough.

I'll come right out and say it: Dennis is obsessed with you. He's obsessed with the way you look, how you smell, how you sound, especially with how you feel. He has the most reverent wandering hands you've ever seen on a person. He's caught between groping you like some sex-crazed maniac (which he is, don't get me wrong), and caressing you like he's at the mercy of a Goddess. He switches between the two so much it nearly gives you whiplash. The power you hold over him, the power you give him, is intense. The moment he felt your wet cunt, he was whimpering, sighing, trembling, an absolute mess. He was weak the moment he saw you, but when his fingers slide through the slick soft petals of your core, he knows what true weakness feels like. It scared him, but the way you cooed his name and nuzzled into his neck with a soft kiss to his raging pulse— he knew he belonged to you forever.

He cried when he fucked you for the first time. He couldn't help it, you had him on his back because you knew he was feeling so many things that you needed to be on top. The sight of you, naked and glistening on top of him nearly killed him. Then you made him watch as you sat on his cock, moaning as you took him in, and he was sure he'd died. He didn't even realize he was crying until you wiped the tears from his cheeks and gave him the flurry of kisses that brought him back to himself. You rode him into the mattress that night, moaning and screaming together as you chased the mind-blowing pleasure for hours on end.

Now, the cuddles that followed rivaled the earth-shattering sex. He loved how close you held him, how tight your arms were around his body, how you whispered praises into his ear while he shook with the aftershocks, how you smiled when he thanked you over and over, while he told you how much he loved you, how deeply devoted he is to you. And on top of all that, he got the best sleep of his life.

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Sweet Redemption

Title: Sweet Redemption

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Dennis Baker x Female!Reader

Word Count: 5.5K

Summary: You move into the neighborhood and meet Dennis Baker, a man in the middle of a divorce. Trying to keep yourself honest, you keep him at a distance. But you're drawn together after a mishap online. Will it end sweetly or on a sour note?

Warnings: ending of a marriage due to infidelity, nosy neighbors, slight social media stalking, alcohol consumption, premature ejaculation, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie, hyperspermia, mention of bodily fluids

Beta: @peyton-warren

A/N: This all started as a dream, and no it wasn’t like a Stephanie Meyer situation. More like, I dreamt of Dennis cumming in his pants from getting too excited and then 5,000+ words fell out of my fingers. So, enjoy!!

Dividers by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

It’s been the talk of the neighborhood. Mrs. Baker was moving out of the house she shared with Mr. Baker, and it was quite a messy ordeal. It was the stuff of trashy romance novels, but here it was in real life. The worst part was trying to sympathize with Mr. Baker losing his marriage. Of course, this was a sad thing, and you understood that he was distraught. But, ever since last summer at the neighborhood block party, you had been falling for Mr. ‘Please, call me Dennis’ Baker. 

You had just moved in and were excited to get out and meet your new neighbors. You met most of the cul-de-sac the day you moved in. But the Bakers seemed to keep to themselves, for the most part. 

At the block party, you made baked goods for everyone to enjoy. The first person to come and try your lemon bars was Mr. Baker. He stormed out of his house a few moments prior, and you tried to keep your eyes to yourself, but you couldn’t help but watch as he charged to a cooler holding beer and pulled out a fresh bottle. 

Using his shirt to cover the cap before he twisted it, you got a sneak peek of his washboard abs and happy trail. Tossing the bottle cap back into the cooler, he took a long pull of the hoppy liquid, swiping the bottle across his forehead to cool himself down. He took off his glasses to wipe off the sweat on his brow and put them back on, surveying the cul-de-sac.

As soon as he saw you, he seemed to be transfixed. He walked over to your lawn, where you had set up a little table with your lemon bars and some fresh, ice-cold lemonade. He reached over the table, offering his large hand for a handshake, and you loved having your hand in his, even if only for a moment. His grip was firm, and his smile was wide.

“You just moved in, yeah? I’m Dennis Baker. Welcome to the neighborhood,” he bantered, his gemstone-blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight.

“Thank you, Mr. Baker,” you mumbled, adding your name at the end.

“Nice to meet you. And please, call me Dennis,” he encouraged, looking down at the treats between you. “Lemon bars are my favorite.”

You lift the tray so he can take one. “Try one before Mrs. Johnson brings her grandkids over and there are none left,” you insisted, nodding to where the older woman was wrangling the kids.

He laughed, the sound tickling your eardrums. “I think you’re right, they look ravenous,” he joked, picking up one of the bars between his fingers and biting into the sweet yet tart delight. 

His eyes closed, a sinful moan escaping his lips as he finished. He sucked on his thumb and forefinger to get every last morsel of the delicacy, but a crumb stayed behind on his plump, pink lips.

You grabbed a napkin, and before you knew what you were doing, you dabbed at his lip to wipe away the offensive piece of shortbread crust. You froze, your hand gripping the napkin so close to his succulent mouth, ready to apologize for treating him like a messy child. But he saves you from your embarrassment.

“I swear, I am such a mess. My wife will tell you the same damn thing, I'm sure," he lamented, a nervous chuckle on his lips as he took the napkin from your hand and wiped his mouth.

“Dennis!” His wife stands outside their front door with her hands on her hips. Her ash blonde waves reflected the sunlight, but the fire in her eyes made you want to be swallowed up into the earth. 

“Speak of the devil, and she shall appear,” he mumbles lowly, just loud enough for you to catch what he said. “Um, thanks for the, uh, lemon bar. I’ll see you around, I guess.” He smiles at you, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and you immediately feel the urge to wrap your arms around him and tell him that everything will be ok.

Instead, you smile back politely and give a little wave. You watch him until he turns around to walk back to his house, busying yourself with pouring a cup of lemonade. You gulped the drink in one go, trying to soothe your suddenly dry mouth, when Mrs. Johnson walked over.

“Alright, kids. Take one lemon bar and go sit down in the shade, ok?” One by one, the three youngsters take a napkin and a lemon bar, and you pour each a glass of lemonade. Once they have their snacks, they walk back to sit under the shade of a tree. You almost forgot Mrs. Johnson was still there until she cleared her throat. “So, I see you met Mr. Baker. Easy with that one, honey.”

“I’m sorry?” you asked, knowing damn well what she meant.

“He’s married, child. Unhappily, but still very much married,” she began, shaking her head as she watched Dennis’ retreating form enter his front door. When she turned back around, she looked you right in the eyes and started to whisper. “Now, you didn’t hear this from me. But word on the street is they’re in the middle of a divorce because of infidelity. That hussy went and got mixed up with the pool boy, and poor Dennis was the last to know, of course. And I don’t mean to lecture you on who you should be drooling over, but I can’t help wanting to make sure you know what you are getting into, baby.”

“I’m not—I wasn’t drooling. We barely even spoke,” you stuttered, shaking your head.

“Mhm, okay. Just try your best to wait for the ink to dry on that divorce decree, alright?” She patted your hand that lay on the table, then walked back to her grandchildren.

‘Well, that was fun,’ you thought to yourself. You poured yourself another lemonade, took a sip, and peeked over the top of the cup to see the blinds closing quickly in the front window of the Baker house. Your heart fluttered in your chest, and you packed up your small table to take everything back inside. 

Over the last year, you heeded Mrs. Johnson’s warning and managed to keep Dennis at arm’s length. You greeted each other when you happened to check the mailbox at the same time, exchanged recipes when you bumped into one another at the grocery store, and even commented on the other’s social media posts. 

Speaking of social media, you noticed when Dennis cropped his wife out of a few photos. You hated to admit it, but you stalked his page more than once. It became a habit of yours to scroll through his posts now and then. He usually reposted articles about creative writing workshops and local beer tastings. You watched the evolution of his life from a man divorcing his wife to a man who looked forward to the future.

One night, while enjoying a glass of wine, you open your laptop and begin scrolling through your feed. You find yourself clicking on an article about online dating and pushing past the fear of putting yourself out there. As you reach the end of the piece, you click the thumbs-up button and are shown other names of friends who also liked it. And that’s when you see it.

‘Dennis Baker also liked this.’ 

So, it looked like Dennis was ready to move on. You chew your lip, thinking a million things all at once. You click out of the article and resume scrolling for the night. 

After about a half hour, you get up to refresh your chardonnay. As you pour a healthy glass, you hear a ‘ding’ come from your laptop. Returning to the couch, you set down your glass and pick up the computer. 

You search the screen for what could have made that sound, and you spot a notification in the corner. Clicking it reveals a pop-up that says, ‘Dennis Baker liked your photo.’. Clicking it again, you are shown the photo in question. It’s a selfie you took about three weeks ago when you and a few friends went to the beach. You smile at the camera lens and show off your skimpy two-piece bathing suit as you lay on a lounger.

This man liked your thirst trap from three weeks ago, at 10:36 pm on a Thursday. It could be a fluke, but it could be that this man stalks your page as well. You don’t have the chance to ponder it in-depth because you are startled by another ‘ding’.

This time, there is an alert from the Messenger app. 

‘You have a new message from Dennis Baker.’

You waste no time clicking the notification and are brought to the web-based messenger. 

Hey, what are the chances that my liking your photo just now isn’t creepy??

Not creepy at all 😉

Just unexpected

Then again, it is a thirst trap, guess it worked lol

Oh, it definitely worked 😁

And by that, I mean you take great selfies

You looked beautiful, I mean

I am shit at this, I’m sorry

You wish you could reach through the computer screen and cradle his face in your hands and tell him that everything is fine. But instead, you gush over him calling you beautiful, and try to lighten the mood.

No apologies necessary

And thank you for the compliment 😉

What are you up to tonight?

Besides flattering me ☺️

I was just taking a break from writing

Have a deadline coming up and my mind is a mess

Saw you were online, so I figured ‘why not’

Still getting used to a quiet house

I’m sorry

You have nothing to be sorry about, sweetheart

That responsibility belongs to my ex-wife

But enough about her, what are you doing up so late?

Just enjoying some wine 😉

And I also don’t like the quiet all the time

Sometimes you just want a body next to you

The chardonnay gave you some liquid courage, allowing you to say what you think.

I doubt that was an invitation

But

If you wanted, I wouldn’t mind the company

You could relax and have some wine

And I could get some writing done

Totally up to you

I would love the company as well

I’m sure Mrs. Johnson and the other old bitties would talk about us though

Let them talk, doesn’t bother me one bit

Mrs. Johnson doesn’t scare me

And either way, it’s our business

Not hers

Not that we have business

I’m shutting up now

‘A man this wonderful should never have to feel like he isn’t allowed to express himself,’ you thought to yourself. Plus, you know you wouldn’t exactly mind it if you and he did have some ‘business’.

I know what you mean

You don’t have to shut up lol

But I think I might go to bed in a bit

Yeah it is getting late

Do you want to exchange numbers?

No pressure, of course

Just figured it would be easier than this

Yeah that sounds great

You exchange numbers and smile at your phone before saving his contact and returning to your online chat.

Well, good luck writing

And don’t stay up too late 😉

I’ll try my best

Good night, sweetheart 😁

Good night, Dennis

You close your laptop and gulp down the rest of your wine. Well, so much for keeping him at arm’s length.

Throughout the next week, you and Dennis send texts back and forth from morning to midnight. You find out you have similar interests in movies and humor, but you differ in music and food tastes. Both of you love horror films and John Mulaney stand-up. You enjoy any music you could dance to and trying interesting new foods, while he likes easy listening and “nothing too spicy”.

Good morning and good night texts sandwich your other messages that range from fascinating to mundane. If you were honest with yourself, there were moments where you wish the texts would get a bit spicier. You didn’t want to force him into a conversation he wasn’t ready to have. Also, you didn’t want to assume he would ever want to have a conversation like that.

You invited Dennis over on Friday night; neither of you had plans, and you were feeling a bit on the lonely side since your friends all had significant others to hang out with. You get home from work, take a shower, and change into some comfy loungewear. 

Just as you are finishing your dinner dishes, you get a text from Dennis asking if he can head over. After sending a quick text to the affirmative, you set your phone on the counter. You’re drying your wine glass from dinner when your doorbell rings. You hang up your dish towel and go to answer the door.

You check your appearance in the mirror in the foyer and are pleased with yourself. Opening the door, you are greeted by a smiling Dennis who holds his laptop case in one hand and a bottle of your favorite red blend in the other. More wine!You step aside to let him into your house and note that he looks relaxed for once.

“I picked this up for you. I remember you saying that you liked it,” he says, giving you the bottle once he is in your living room. The self-satisfied smile on his face does nothing to quell the fire between your legs.

“Thank you, Dennis,” you beam, taking the bottle in one hand while the other squeezes his bicep. You’re surprised when he flexes under your grip, biting your lip and rushing to the kitchen to open the bottle.

“No problem, sweetheart. Mind if I get set up here on the couch?” He inquires, already sitting down and taking out his laptop.

“Yeah, that’s perfect. There’s an outlet for your charger on the wall next to the—”

“I got it!” He interjects, cutting you off and plugging in his charger. He sits again and starts to boot up his laptop, looking over at you and noticing you are having trouble opening the wine. 

He walks over to you, taking the bottle and corkscrew from your hands after wordlessly offering help. Effortlessly, he pops the cork on the bottle and pours you a healthy glass. You accept the wine, take a sip, and thank him for his help.

“Next time, just say that you need help. I’m not gonna think any less of you, sweetheart,” he reassures, smiling and rubbing a hand down your arm. 

You stand there looking up at him, wishing you weren’t intimidated by this normally unassuming man. Clearing your throat, you find your voice. 

“Come on, you told me you were gonna read me some of what you’re writing,” you probe, nodding to the couch.

“That’s right, I did say that,” he snorts, running a hand through his hair and walking back to the living room. “But, remember, I’m no Shakespeare. So, don’t expect this to be—”

“Dennis?” You cut him off, your hand going to his solid shoulder.

“Yeah?” His soft, aquamarine orbs move to you.

“Shut up and show me your work,” you insist, dropping your hand from his arm so you don’t accidentally ruffle his hair. He’s so cute when he’s pathetic and down on himself, but you would never tell him that. 

That nervous laugh of his is your absolute favorite; it never disappoints. 

“Alright, um, this one I’m working on is about the new brewery that opened up on Main Street a few months ago. It’s owned by this guy who used to own another brewery with friends, but one day he just decided to open this place. Anyway, uh, I’ll start here,” he begins, adjusting his glasses on his face.

Dennis launches into a tale about a brewmaster who decides to follow his dream of being the sole owner of a brewery, leaving behind his skeptical friends and doubtful family. Against all odds, he was able to find a building that was available for purchase in his budget. Along with help from a friend who was an interior designer, he created an inviting space where people could not only come to have a drink but also learn about the brewing process.

The way he wrote about the owner’s friends and family not believing in him sounded like he knew what it was like to be doubted, to be second-guessed. You sip from your glass while Dennis reads aloud, and you study him. 

He fidgets while he speaks, fingers smoothing over the keys until he uses the trackpad to scroll down to the next paragraph. While he scrolls, his tongue pokes out of his mouth to moisten his bottom lip. Now and then, he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

He ends the story with some flowery words about overcoming odds, trusting your gut, and being your own biggest motivator. Had those words come from anyone else, you wouldn’t have believed them. But because you know what Dennis has gone through and have seen with your own eyes how he has persevered, you are drawn in by the words like a moth to a flame.

“So, come on. What is your honest opinion? I promise I won’t be offended,” he sighs, expecting the worst.

You’re unsure if you are drunk from the good wine or moved by his words. But instead of trying to figure it out, you drain your glass and set it on the coffee table. You then turn to Dennis and move his laptop to the coffee table as well; all the while he furrows his brow and waits to see what you’re up to.

You get up on your knees, move Dennis' clammy hands away from nervously rubbing his thighs, and climb onto his lap. His eyes widen, and you can tell he doesn’t know what to do as you invade his space. When you settle in straddling his legs, your hands go to his chest. You’re not surprised when firm pecs greet your palms or when a bulge twitches under your ass.

“Dennis, you are an amazing writer. I was hooked from the first sentence. I can tell how passionate you are about writing. Makes me wonder if you’re passionate like that in other areas,” you confess, licking your wine-stained lips and sliding your hands from his chest to rest on his shoulders.

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows deeply before speaking. “Th—thank you, sweetheart. I mean, it’s just a puff piece I was working on. You should see what Nathan comes up with; he’s already a junior editor, and—”

“Dennis?” You cut him off, covering his mouth with your forefinger in a ‘shhh’ gesture. “With all due respect, I don’t care what Nathan does. I’m complimenting you, and you will accept it. When I move my finger from your lips, you will say, ‘Thank you’ and we will move on, ok?”

He nods quickly, his glasses sliding down his nose a bit. You remove your finger from his lips and adjust his glasses for him. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his hands at his sides and aching to touch you.

“Good boy,” you tease, biting your lip in a devilish grin. You notice his breathing quicken. And was that a whimper? A pink hue dusts his cheeks and the tips of his ears, and you realize he’s very much turned on. You are so mesmerized by how hot he looks that you are rendered speechless, allowing Dennis to take it the wrong way.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”

This time, you cut off his words with a kiss. As soon as your mouths touch, you feel a slight flutter in your chest. It’s just a brush of lips, a fleeting second where you throw caution to the wind. But you’re convinced this is just the beginning.

Leaning back, you look into Dennis’ eyes. Searching for what, you don’t know. He lets out a breath, saying nothing while his hands remain at his sides. The moment stretches long enough that you begin to think that you fucked up.

You tremble, afraid that you may have crossed a line. “Fuck, I’m so sor—”

Now, it’s your turn to get cut off. His large hand raises to touch your cheek, his thumb on your lips. “Sweetheart, you have nothing to be sorry for. I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long, since that day at the block party. I can’t believe that you want me, too.”

Instead of responding, your hand grips his wrist, and you open your mouth to take the tip of his thumb between your lips. You suck on his thumb sinfully, watching as his pupils dilate. Swirling your tongue around his digit, you close your eyes and savor the little noises he makes.

As you let his thumb slip from your lips, you adjust yourself in his lap. The hardening length in his pants brushes against your ass. He hisses, a mixture of pleasure and pain on his face. You gyrate your hips slowly, setting a rhythm of teasing him before you lean in to nip and kiss his neck. 

His hands go to your waist, guiding you as you grind into him. “Is this ok, sweetheart?” 

“Mhm,” you murmur between the kisses you leave on his neck. 

His grip on you tightens momentarily, and he lets out a breathy groan. You feel his arms wrap around you, and he pulls you close, effectively stopping you from moving your hips any longer. Your arms encircle him, your hand tangling in his dishwater-blonde hair. 

You sit there, enveloped in each other until you realize Dennis just came in his pants. Lifting yourself, you spot the wet spot on his jeans. In place of feeling grossed out by the offensive patch of cum, you are even more aroused than you were while you rode his lap. You just made this man cum in his pants; you couldn’t be prouder.

“Good going, Dennis. You just came in your pants like a horny teenager. Maybe you do have a bad penis,” he says to himself, just loud enough for you to hear.

You ignore his negative self-talk and remove yourself from his grip, standing up before him. He looks so small as he sits there, and all you want to do is cuddle him like a hurt puppy. But rather than cuddle, you determine it’s your turn to cum with his help.

“Dennis, get up and follow me,” you order, already walking away. You hear his soft footfalls behind you, doing as he’s told.

Once you get to your bedroom, you sit at the edge of the bed and move yourself to lie back on your pillows. You instruct him to take off his jeans and lay next to you. He takes off all of his clothing, leaving his boxer briefs on to cover his softening cock.

When he is on the bed, he silently asks for permission to undress you by tucking his fingers in your bottoms. You nod, lying on your back, and he gets to work. Pulling down your leggings, he peppers your legs with kisses. With your pants off, he can see the small damp patch in your underwear and lets out a whimper. 

“Dennis, do you want to eat my pussy?” you hint, widening your legs.

“Yes, please, can I?” he pleads, smoothing a hand up your thigh.

“Finish undressing me and then lay down so I can ride that pretty face of yours,” you direct, smiling up at him as he hovers above you.

“Yes, sweetheart,” he replies, carefully helping you undress fully. He lays down, his head supported by one of your pillows. You face away from him, throwing one leg over his torso, scooting up until your vagina is just above his lips. “Take everything you need. Use me, sweetheart.”

Lowering yourself, you are met with his hot, wet mouth. He licks a stripe between your folds, splitting you down the middle. Once he gets to your soaked entrance, he laps up what nectar has accumulated there, moaning all the while. Your hands go to his abdomen to hold yourself up, marveling at how sculpted he is.

His hands grip your ass, opening you up so he can dive in further. The sloppy sounds of him slurping up your juices only serve to make you whimper and call out his name. He eats you out like it’s his dream come true, and you feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

His tongue swirls around your clit then flicks up and down on the sensitive bead until you’re a moaning mess. Your eyes lose focus for a second, and when you regain sight, you notice his hardening length. You watch his cock bob as you let out a particularly breathy whine.

When he changes tactics and sucks on your clit, you keen like a cat in heat. You can feel yourself reaching the point of no return quicker than you thought possible. He moans into your sex when you lean forward and palm him through his boxer briefs. Your hand can barely fit around it, and the sight alone has you pressing yourself further into Dennis’ mouth.

He begins to pump into your hand as you rub your soaked pussy up and down his face, taking what you need just like he said you could. With the way his mouth slides across your snatch, you’re getting beard burn, and you couldn’t give two shits. You fuck yourself on his tongue, your clit stimulated by his bottom lip. 

Within a handful of minutes, you’re gushing into his mouth, and he is drinking you down until you have nothing left to give. He lazily presses kisses to your outer labia as you catch your breath. When you can’t take anymore, he helps you lie down next to him.

He wraps his arms around you, soothing a hand down your arm as you come down from your high. You come back to yourself once you feel his hard dick slightly pressing into your hip. You say nothing at first until you realize he’s canting his hips and humping into you like a horny puppy.

You reach for his erection, slipping your hand into his underwear and stroking him. The tighter your grip, the louder he groans. You turn slightly to face him and help him remove his last article of clothing. His uncut cock is heavy as it hangs between you. It looks pretty, and you bet it tastes good, too. Licking your lips, you dip your head and lick the bead of precum that leaks from his shiny red tip.

The whimper that leaves his mouth is too precious. You can tell that if you use your mouth on him, he is bound to blow sooner rather than later. You take pity on him and lay on your back again, throwing your leg over his hip. 

“Need you to fuck me, Dennis. Need you so bad,” you beg, teasing his tip while it sits just under your heat.

“Are you sure, sweetheart? I don’t want you to feel pressured just because we’re naked in bed together,” he counters, courteous to a fault.

“I’m sure, Dennis. I want you. I need you,” you stress, pressing your hips into him.

“It’s okay. I’m right here, sweetheart,” he consoles, turning your head to capture your lips in a kiss. While you kiss, he pushes his tip between your folds, teasing your hole. He slips into your tight entrance, ramming forward until you take him in completely.

Letting you get used to the intrusion, he stills for a beat until you break the kiss. You nod, mutely imploring him to move. He gets the hint, pulling out until only his thick mushroom head is inside you before pushing back in. His grip around your waist tenses as he begins to fuck you in earnest.

Dragging moan after groan from you, he revels in the different noises you make. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear as his dick is squeezed by your cunt with every thrust. He pecks your cheek and neck, littering your warm skin with kisses.

As he continues to cuddlefuck you, you’ve never felt safer in a lover’s arms. He periodically asks if you’re okay as if he’s afraid that any false move will have you running for the hills. You hum in approval every time, unsure if your voice can articulate how amazing he makes you feel.

“So good for me, sweetheart. You were made for me. Hmm, I can’t get enough of you. You’re perfect. Every fucking inch of you, sweetheart. Even the parts of you that I don’t know about. I needed this. Needed you, sweetheart. Do you know how beautiful you are?” He babbles as he gets lost pumping inside you.

“Oh, Dennis. Dennis, I’m gonna cum. That’s it, right there,” you ramble, feeling your walls clamp down around his shaft. Your back arches, allowing him to go impossibly deeper. You realize no one has ever made you cum like this, and you bask in the afterglow for as long as you can as he fucks you through your orgasm.

“That’s my girl,” he praises, his hips stuttering as he chases his release. “Right behind you, sweetheart. Ugh, I’m gonna cum. Where-”

“Don’t you dare fucking pull out! Wanna feel you,” you insist, your hand going to his ass to stop him from withdrawing.

“Fuck! Fuck, here it comes,” he howls, stilling his hips as his dick twitches and releases rope after rope of cum inside you. He cums so much that it starts to leak out past his thick meat. “Shit, I can’t believe I’m still cumming, sweetheart. Just keeps going. Oh, God.” You can still feel him spurting cum inside you, and you’re sure that if you weren’t on birth control, he would be impregnating you right now.

As his cock finally softens, it slips free from you along with some of his thick load. Both of you are so tired from your coupling that instead of cleaning up, you remove the comforter from the bed and climb under the sheets. Dennis is the big spoon, attaching himself to you once you press your ass into him.

You sleep soundly that night, lulled by his heartbeat against your back.

After a few months, you make it official. Dennis is yours, and you are his. Neither of you can get enough of each other, and keeping this secret has had its struggles. But together, you could get through anything. Dennis was moving up in his career as a writer, and you were proud to say you made leaps and bounds in your job.

Attending the neighborhood’s Halloween party together, you are dressed as Gomez and Morticia Adams. The way Dennis dotes on you, kissing you every chance he can get, it is the perfect costume. Plus, he looked adorable in that pin-striped suit with his hair slicked back. You were no slouch in your floor-length black long-sleeved fitted dress.

You get some looks and a few smiles as well. But when Dennis makes a bathroom run, you are approached by Mrs. Johnson. She hugs you and chuckles to herself before stepping back and patting your growing tummy. Your eyes widen, and you wonder how she could tell when Dennis didn’t even know.

“So, when can we expect the pitter-patter of little feet?” She inquires, a soft smile on her face.

“I go to the doctor on Tuesday to find out. How the hell did you know?” You challenge, crossing your arms to cover your belly.

“You thought you two were slick, sneaking back and forth to each other’s houses since the summer. Me and the girls have been watching the way you two interact. That’s the look of people in love. Plus, your tits are so big right now they look like you’re smuggling two Christmas hams in that bra,” she laughs again, rubbing your arm when you frown slightly. “Don’t worry, child. That man loves you more than he ever loved that hussy he was married to. Keep doing what you’re doing, and we’ll soon be calling you ‘Mrs. Baker’.”

Dennis appears next to you, whisking you away to the dance floor. He twirls you around and makes you laugh with his terrible dance moves and goofy faces. Nothing makes him happier than making you happy, and vice versa. You two were truly made for each other, and nothing could separate you. 

But the best part? When you are about six months pregnant, you go grocery shopping, running into Dennis's ex-wife in the bread aisle. It's priceless to see the look of shock on her face when she realizes he's the father and your new husband. Life doesn’t get much better than that. 

Dear Life,

Thanks for the lemons!

Sincerely,

The Bakers

A/N: First time writing for Dennis, and I don’t think this will be that last. Please let me know what you think!! I hope you all enjoyed this nutty little story. Sorry for the lemon puns!

**Tag List**

@cevansbaby-dove @startcarvingdarling @iwudbutnah @thezombieprostitute @thabiddie23

@whiskeytangofoxtrot555

[callalillywrites]

It Takes All Packs to Make It Work Masterlist

Welcome to what's becoming quite the expanded universe. Funny how it all started with a grouping that doesn't seem like it would work, but it's soon become so much more.

It really does take all kinds of packs to make it work in a world where alphas, betas, and omegas are learning to live and love together. One relationship at a time.

Story Masterlists

Their Sweet Omega - Jake Jensen x Steve Rogers x Reader

His Scarred Omega - Bucky Barnes x Reader

An Unconventional Pack - Ransom Drysdale x Nick Vaughn x Reader

Coming Soon

His Best Friend's Omega - Ari Levinson x Reader

An Alpha's Proposition - Frank Adler x Reader

Trusting Another Alpha - Curtis Everett x Reader

Runaway Omega - Sam Wilson x Reader

Falling for the Playboy Alpha - Colin Shea x Reader

An Alpha's Second Chance - Dennis Baker x Reader

Stories featuring Multi Pairings/Groupings

It Was A Bad Day: Jake & Steve / Bucky / Ransom & Nick / Frank

Extra Info & Asks

Readers Wearing Cleopatra Dress

Readers' Nicknames Guide

Professions Guide for All Alphas, Betas, and Omegas

All Packs and Their Thoughts on Children

*****

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

[imyourbratzdoll]

thank you for writing my last request, babe. it was really hot ❤‍🔥

so, how about dennis trying glory hole for the first time after his divorce. take your time to write this. also, can't wait for The Whore's Fairytale 🥹🥹🥹 i bet they are gonna be soooo perfect, like how you are 💙💙

thank you for sending it! I love when you request things! I hope you like this one! ugh, neither can I! dark fairytales are the best, hehe. and awwww, you are so perfect and the best. I love you x

summary - dennis has been feeling sexually frustrated after his divorce (not like he was getting anything whilst married anyway), but he decided to try out a new place that he overheard his colleagues talking about.

warning - smut, glory hole, swearing, creampie.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

Dennis was nervous. He’d never done this before and felt self-conscious, but he could no longer handle his horniness. He felt like he was going to explode. Dennis had heard one of his colleagues talking about this place and thought, why should he deprive himself of pleasure? 

He looked up, ‘The Strawberry Shack’ neon sign flashed before his eyes. He gulped, walking into the place and smiling slightly at the woman in the front. He slides money to her before she gestures to the room where the women lie, some for blowjobs and some for sex. It was his to choose. Dennis slowly walked through, looking at the many legs and holes before finding the one. You.

Your soft silky legs hang as you lie on the other side. Your glistening cunt was open for any man to use. The sight itself made Dennis’s mouth water. He slowly walks closer, hands hesitantly sliding up your calves to your thighs. Your legs fall open to his touch, a soft moan falling from your lips as your pussy jumps, juices beginning to leak out.

Dennis grunts softly as his pants tighten, his cock swelling until he’s pushing against the zipper. His hand slowly moves toward your sopping cunt, and moans fall from the both of you as his fingers brush against your slit, finding their way to your swollen clit and rubbing it. Your hips twitch, your head flies back, and your eyes roll.

Dennis unzips his pants with his other hand, taking out his thick throbbing member. A raspy groan falls from his lips as his thumb swipes across his leaking tip, gathering his precum before wrapping his hand tightly around his base, stroking his cock and moving closer to your awaiting cunt. His vision nearly goes white when he places his tip against your warm hole, rubbing himself through your folds as he gathers your juices and uses it as lube.

He grips your thighs, pushing slowly into your tight hole. A moan escapes the both of you, and his eyes roll to the back of his head as your walls pulsate around him, gripping his cock as you suck him in. “Fuck!” His gruff voice sends shivers down your spine, causing your cunt to grip him like a vice. Dennis thrusts in, grunting as he holds back from cumming instantly. 

His hands rub your thigh soothingly, and his hips move back before thrusting back into your soaking cunt. His pace begins to pick up, and grunts and groans leave him as he buries himself deep inside you, his cock throbs, pounding harder and faster. His sexual frustrations catch up to him as he gets lost in the pleasure of you. “You feel so good, baby. So fucking good!” Dennis grunts, feeling you tighten around him. “Never felt anything this good. Fuck, keep squeezing me, honey!”

You squeal, nails digging into your palms beside you as your eyes roll to the back of your head. One hand moves to your breast, squeezing it and playing with your nipples. Your sweet moans fill the box, causing Dennis’s cock to twitch inside you. You begin to rock your hips, needing to feel him deeper inside you. You need to feel him forever, and your mind goes blank. Your walls squeeze and pulse around him as he continues to hit your g spot, his fingers rubbing your swollen clit. Your back arches as you cum. Your juices were squirting out of you and covering the mysterious man.

Dennis groans, jaw clenching as he grips you tighter, his hips moving faster and harder as he pounds into you. His balls tighten, cock pulsing and throbbing as he twitches wildly. A rough moan falls from his puffy lips as he spills inside you. “Shit! Shit! Fuckkkk!” His hips stutter, balls emptying before he pulls out slowly. His fingers gently push inside you, thrusting and curling his cum deeper into you, his thumb rubbing your clit as you pant. 

Dennis leans down and places a soft kiss on your hip before he tucks his cock back into his pants. “Thanks, honey. I’ll be back for more.” He gives your leg one last rub before walking off with a skip in his step.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[iwudbutnah]

Don’t know how I missed this gem. Damn one night with reader had Dennis getting his life together. She put that thang on him and he was like I gotta get right to keep her. I’m not mad talk about a glow up. He doesn’t even look or sound like the same man. This reminds me of some urkel type ish. He went in Dennis in the polo came out Dennis suave with the nice suit a changed man.

Turn the Tables

FIRST, we give thanks to the OG @queenoftheworldisdead​ for the first ever Dennis fic I ever read (and still read from time to time). It is gold and it needs way more recognition.

I have no idea what the hell I did with this fic but it’s here and that’s what matters. I love reblogs and comments and I’m curious to see how you all react to this one…

Dennis Baker x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.5K

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, language, a hint of angst, mentions of divorce and a bad penis, oral sex (m and f receiving), unprotected sex, mentions of D/s.

Summary | A high school reunion puts you back into contact with the same loner you knew since eighth grade. As you come to realize, never judge a book by its cover.

Peeling off the adhesive sticker and applying it to the front upper part of your dress, the former cheerleader that sits in front of you gives you a curious stare as she chews on the end of her pen before pointing it at you.

“We took bio in eleventh grade, right?” she asks, tucking a lock of red hair behind her ear. “I think I used to cheat off your quizzes.”

You don’t think she used to cheat off of you - you know it as a fact, offering her a small, polite smile before she points a finger toward the hallway. It’s your high school reunion, something that you’d been talking yourself out of since you parked your car. It’s a morbid curiosity, you decide, heading down the hallway, music getting louder as you get closer. You never cared about most of these people and yet, you’re wondering what they’ve done with their lives, like some weird reality television spinoff.

All you want to do is watch people, grab a few drinks and catch up with a few others that you still keep in contact with and then leave. You were never the overly popular one, happy to fly under the radar when you were in high school. You got along with everyone, including the loners that didn’t make friends as easily as you did.

Loners like the one that leans on the bartop while he nurses a beer in his large hand and his tight polo shirt.

But not just any loner.

Dennis Baker.

Keep reading

[ellethespaceunicorn-masterlist]

Chris Evans Masterlist

Here you will find all of my Chris Evans works, arranged by character and type of work.

Series

Don’t Take My Sunshine Away (possibly on hiatus)

Bright Like The Moon (ongoing) - Lloyd is a minor character.

Challenges

Pretty As A Picture - Explicit - Lloyd Hansen x F!Reader - What started as a hobby day in the park turns into Lloyd Hansen showing you why taking photos of strangers is a bad idea.

Requests

Power Play: After Hours - Explicit - Lloyd Hansen x Assistant!Black!Reader - What happens when Lloyd sees you, his assistant, in something other than what you usually wear? Well, you should be worried about what he does when he sees you.

A Duke and His Duchess - Explicit - Soft!Dark!Lloyd Hansen x Chubby!Black!Fem!Reader - The night takes a dark turn when you are harassed at the club, but Lloyd comes to your rescue.

Headcanons

Family, Quirks/Hobbies, Sleep

What happens when the reader starts dressing to match Lloyd?

Interesting quirk (an ask I submitted to stargazingfangirl18)

Events

Daddy Dearest | Lloyd Hansen + Female Reader + Daddy kink + “Can you feel how much I want you?” + Darkfic (Sweet Treats Events 2024)

One-Shots

Oxytocin - Explicit - Ransom Drysdale x Older!Black!Fem!OFC - At a New Year’s Eve party, Ransom Drysdale’s life is forever changed by a chance meeting with Ivy Kensington.

One-Shots

Don’t Take Your Eyes Off It - Explicit - Sugar Daddy!Steve Rogers x Black!Fem!Reader - It’s Valentine’s Day, and you have a surprise for Steve!

Requests

No Good Deeds - Explicit - Landlord!Ari Levinson x Reader - Moving out on your own is challenging, but your landlord, Mr. Levinson is kind and helpful. But he may want more from you than your tenancy.

Events

Do It For Daddy | Jake Jensen + Female Reader + Daddy kink + “I told you, you would eventually start begging.” + Smut (Sweet Treats Events 2024)

One-Shots

Sweet Redemption - Explicit - Dennis Baker x Female!Reader - You move into the neighborhood and meet Dennis Baker, a man in the middle of a divorce. Trying to keep yourself honest, you keep him at a distance. But you’re drawn together after a mishap online. Will it end sweetly or on a sour note?

Headcanons

“Don’t run from me” Dennis x Wifey (facesitting)

Brunch with the family (slice of life)

Late night on the beach with Wifey

Ass worship

Nicknames and height

Panty sniffing?

Running into the ex-wife in the grocery store

Dennis comforting Wifey after a long, stressful day

how Dennis finds out that Wifey is pregnant

Dennis' zodiac sign

Does Dennis' wife like to be spanked during sex?

Is Dennis a horndog?

What are Dennis and Wifey's love languages?

Do Dennis and Wifey share nudes?

Drabbles

Dennis tells you about his and his ex-wife's fight on the day you met

Dennis comforts Wifey after her day doesn't go as planned (slice of life)

Dennis being the most capable father and husband (slice of life)

Lloyd Hansen (The Gray Man)

Andy Barber (Defending Jacob)

Ransom Drysdale (Knives Out)

Steve Rogers (Avengers films)

Curtis Everett (Snowpiercer)

Ari Levinson (The Red Sea Diving Resort)

Nick Gant (PUSH)

Jake Jensen (The Losers)

Frank Adler (Gifted)

Dennis Baker (DENNIS)

I DO NOT WRITE RPF FOR CHRIS

[littlelioncub-library]

Strong Connection Detected

Summary: You and Dennis have been friends for quite some time now. When you invite him over to help set up your new router, you can’t help but notice how hot your shy little friend is.

Pairing: Dennis Baker x Female!Reader

Warnings: Soft dom!Reader, sub!Dennis, pet names (Angel, sweetheart, Den, etc.), Dennis is touch starved, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, premature ejaculation, dirty talk, mentions of titty fucking, Reader likes Dennis with his glasses on, Dennis gets pussy whipped instantly.

Word count: 3,830

A/N: I am in a mood for Dennis, so I think the next few fics I write will be ones for him. Or Jefferson. Or Justin Capshaw. We’ll see! Hehe I feel pretty good about this one, I wasn’t while I was starting it, but after looking it over and editing it a bit, I really like it. The world needs more Dennis Baker smut. He’s pathetic and needs a good, solid fucking. I no longer do a tag list! If you want to be notified when I post, follow @littlelioncub-library and turn on the notifications. I love you all!

Kisses 💋

—K

“How’s it going, Den?” You ask from your spot on the couch.

“Almost done,” Dennis mumbles in concentration. He’d been saying the same thing for over half an hour.

You sigh and watch as Dennis pieces your new internet router together. The new machine was far too complex for you to figure out yourself, but when you told Dennis about it he insisted he set it up for you. “Those guys overcharge for installation anyway.” You’d been friends with Dennis for nearly 2 years now, you met at work shortly after his wife left him. He was friendly, a bit on the shy side but always had a nice thing to say, if he ever spoke at all. It took you about 6 months to get him to say more than 15 words to you at the office, but you were nothing if not a patient woman.

Dennis liked that about you; everyone was always trying to rush him; to speak, to get things done, to get out of their way, to sign the divorce papers—but not you. You let him take his time, hell, you even smiled at him when he took more than 40 seconds to stutter out a simple ‘good morning.’ Thankfully as the years rolled on, he got more comfortable with you. Sure, he still stutters like crazy when you stand a little too close or caress his arm while you talk, but, hey, it’s an improvement.

You watch as his large hands skillfully piece together the black box, and you can’t help but admire the thick arms he hides underneath gaudy polo shirts. Your eyes flicker up to his face, his glasses were perched on the bridge of his nose, his eyes steely as he focuses, his tongue peeking out. It should be illegal to be this buff and this cute. You bite your lip softly as your thighs begin to rub together, your skin beginning to heat underneath your short floral dress (Dennis’ favorite). You let your eyes continue to wander his body, his thick, muscular thighs are spread as he sits comfortably next to you, and you can’t help but wonder what they would feel like against your naked pus—

“Are you ok?” His concerned words bring you out of your filthy thoughts.  

“Hm? Yeah, why?” You swallow thickly as the tingling between your legs gets stronger. He watches with a slightly nervous gaze as you slowly shift closer to him, your legs pressed against his.

“You were just…” he trails off when your hand curls around his bicep, your hands were always so soft, he swallows thickly.

“I was what, Den?” Your voice drops into a huskier tone almost on its own, the way he reacts to the lightest touches makes you want to tease him more—so you do. Your hand pulls away from his bicep to rest innocently on his inner thigh, the muscle jumping underneath the beige khakis he wore.

“A-Ah!” He squeaks, his eyes wide in shock, he didn’t know what you were doing but he was certain he was going to snap the plastic he held in his hands if you kept going. You smirk at his little noise and bring your other hand to rub his back soothingly.

“Are you ok?” You repeat his words in that sultry tone and Dennis is surprised he hasn’t cum in his pants yet. Your eyes catch sight of the sizable tent straining at his zipper and fight off a moan of your own. As soon as Dennis realizes you see his not-so-little problem, he immediately goes to cover himself with both hands, his face as red as a tomato.

“I-I, I’m sorry!” He rushes out, ready to hear you make fun of him or call him a pervert or kick him out, but instead he feels your gentle hand cover his own, tenderly rubbing backs of his hands and slowly peeling them away from his crotch.

“You don’t have to apologize, Den,” your voice is calm and soothing, as soon as you rest his hands on his knees, you gently hook your finger under his chin, turning him to face you. As frightened and embarrassed as he is, Dennis does as you want him to. The moment your eyes lock, his breathing begins to deepen; there was a lustful darkness taking over your gorgeous eyes, it made the fire in his belly burn even hotter.

“Is this ok?” You ask as your hand returns to his inner thigh, this time stroking the length of his knee, inching closer and closer to the aching bulge between his legs. He almost chokes on his words when he feels you rub his thigh, your question nearly going over his head completely.

“Yes, yes, yes,” he repeats breathlessly as he nods dumbly, his eyes stuck on yours. You smile softly at his consent and finally cup him through his pants, the hardness beneath your palm had you biting your lip. “O-Oh god!” He whimpers under his breath, his pretty eyes fluttering shut as you hold him in your hand.

Finally, your hand begins to move, the grind of your palm into his cock sends Dennis’ mind spinning. It’s been so long since someone touched him, he’s been single ever since his divorce and even before then his ex-wife hardly looked at him let alone touched him. He’d grown so accustomed to the feeling of his own hand that he forgot how good it felt to be touched by someone else.

“Dennis,” you repeat again softly, he let himself get so carried away in his own thoughts that he didn’t hear you call his name. He opens his eyes again, desperation and worry written all over his face. The way he got so caught up in the pleasure just your hand gave him made you hungry for more. Your nose brushes against his as you lean in closer. “Can I kiss you?”

“Fuck, p-please,” he whimpers again, his eyes sliding shut again as you kiss him. You sigh happily against his lips, the way he immediately submitted to you was everything you dreamed of. His lips were soft and shy, afraid to go too far but still hungry for any shred of kindness you offered. When your tongue licked at the seam of his lips, his hips surged forward into your hand on instinct. Your grip on his cock tightened ever so slightly, pulling a sharp gasp from the timid man next to you. Sliding your tongue into his parted mouth, you moaned at the taste of him; mint toothpaste and the chocolate muffin you gave him as a snack an hour before.

You both lose yourselves in the kiss, each one intensifying with each passing moment. You sink your teeth into his swollen bottom lip, drawing a shaky moan from the back of his throat. Suddenly you slide from your spot next to him, making him pout, his lips ready to begin pouring pleas and apologies. When you settle yourself on the floor in between his spread thighs, Dennis couldn’t help but curse. He wanted to commit the scene before him to memory: your beautiful eyes looking up at him while you kneel for him.

“Now, Den,” you speak softly, you were just as breathless as he was, except you were half drunk with power, you trail both hands up his inner thighs, sending shivers through his body, “tell me what you want me to do.”

“Fuck,” he curses again as he tries to find the words but his brain is damn near useless right now. You smirk as you watch him scramble to speak, you knew he was shy, so you relished in his reactions. “I want… I want you…”

“You want me to what, Dennis?” Your tone is encouraging and reassuring, that alone is enough to make Dennis’ heart beat erratically. He let out a frustrated noise as he tried to regain some composure. “Want me to touch you?”

“Whatever you want,” he whispers, “I want-want you to do whatever you want…”

His cute answer makes you smile at him, you bring your lips to his again, rewarding him for his good answer. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he sighs, chasing your sweet lips.

“You wanna know what I wanna do to you, Dennis?” You ask slowly in between sweet kisses, “I wanna suck your cock,” he moans at your words, “and then ride you nice and hard, make you feel so fucking good, until you cum inside me… you want that?”

“Yes! Yes—fuck!—yes!” He gushes out as you begin to unbutton his pants, eager to get your mouth on him. The sound of his zipper being pulled down suddenly snapped him out of his desperate haze. “Wait!” He called, his hands holding your wrists still. You look up at him, your hands stopped in their tracks.

“Something wrong, Den?” You ask as he licks his lips, you could tell he was looking for the right words to say, “Do you want me to stop? We don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want to,” you say sincerely with a sweet, soft smile. When he didn’t say anything for a few moments, you smiled a little wider and started to get up from your spot between his knees, “we could jus—“

“No!” He exclaims a little louder than he intended, a sheepish, apologetic smile gracing his lips, “sorry, no, please, I-I don’t want you to stop. It’s just,” He took a deep breath, his eyes looking down at the floor, “I haven’t been w-with anyone since my div-divorce and, uh, my ex-wife, she said that my, um, my penis was… was bad…” He waited for the cruel laughter, the mocking words, a scoff—something. But instead, you tilted his chin up to look at you, he found your gentle expression and a warmth in your eyes that he’s never seen before.

“I’m sure she said many other cruel, untrue things to you, Dennis,” you push a hand through his hair, caressing the side of his face as you speak, “things you didn’t deserve. Let me show you what you deserve, Angel. Hm?”

Dennis gives you a shy nod and you all but devour his lips, your movements are strong and determined, it leaves him scrambling to take it all yet yearning for more. This time he doesn’t stop you when you pull his zipper down, your hands pulling down his pants and boxers to his mid thigh in one go. With your tongue sliding sensually against his, you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, your fingers hardly able to touch. Dennis whimpers loudly into the kiss, his mouth hanging open as you massage his shaft. You sigh at the weight of him in your palm and pull back to look at him. You drool when you see the monster between his thighs; a wide, angry red tip atop a long veiny shaft that pulsed in time with his heartbeat.

“Holy shit, Den,” you moan in awe and give his cock a stroke, licking your lips as a bead of precum coats your fingers, “you’ve got such a big cock, can’t fucking wait to feel you splitting me open,” you ramble, your feral gaze locked on his tip, watching as more precum oozes from his hole. “Fucking hell…”

“Oh! Oh fuck!” He cries out, his head falling back against the couch as your lips wrap around his tip, your tongue greedily lapping up the salty precum as your hand jerks him off. You moan around him as you begin to move, taking more and more of him into your mouth with each eager bob of your head. Dennis’ thighs shake beside your head, his whole body strumming and thrashing with pleasure. He’s never had anyone go down on him before so this was a whole new experience to him. “Oh my god! Oh my god!”

Large hands grip the back of your head, guiding you lower and lower down his length each time. You take a deep breath through your nose, relax your throat and take him as deep as you possibly can. His toes curl in his socks when he feels himself breech your throat, his length suddenly disappearing into your hot, wet mouth. A confused but wanton moan flying from his mouth as you swallow him down, the grip in your hair tightening to the point of pain. You manage to fit most of him down your throat, your hand jerking the last inch or two that can’t fit in your throat yet.

The noises Dennis makes leaves you absolutely dripping, your hips grinding into nothing with need, your panties were definitely ruined. Your eyes sting with tears and drool coats your chin, but you love it too much to care. He looks the part of a debauched mess; his skin dewey with sweat, his lips parted and red from your sloppy kisses, and his face contorted as the painful bliss that he’s never known before overwhelms him. It’s doing wonders for your confidence.

“I-I, I’m gonna cum!” He sobs between the fat tears that roll down his face, your mouth suddenly pulling off of him with a wet pop. A heartbroken whine of your name leaves his lips but your spit covered mouth silences him with a sloppy kiss. He tastes himself on your tongue as you shut him up in the best way possible.

“I want you to cum in my pussy, Den, not my mouth,” you mumble against him lips, gripping the collar of his pink polo shirt, you tug him to his feet. He sways a bit, the edging making it hard for him to stand straight as you lead him to your bedroom. Wasting no time, you shut the door and push him to the neatly made bed and crawl up the length of his body, settling in his lap. “Undress me, Dennis, please?”

You didn’t need to ask him again. He sits up quickly, his shaky but eager hands are quick to unzip your dress and yank it over your head, tossing it to the floor behind you. Dennis never thought he would ever be here, laying on your bed with you in his lap, begging him to strip you naked. Yet here he was, staring at your bare breasts; he was positive he was drooling but he couldn’t think hard enough to care. “You’re so…beautiful…”

Your shy giggle made him smile softly. “Touch me, Den,” You guide his hands to the swell of your chest, and Dennis is sure that he’ll never be able to go a day without feeling your pillowy soft tits in his hand. He moans and massages the tender flesh passionately, leaning down to suck on your hard nipples, your hand gripping the back of his head.

“So soft,” he mutters in amazement against your sensitive nipple.

“O-Oh fuck, yes, that’s it, so fucking good…” Your soft moans and praises leave Dennis ravenous, he switches between your breasts, making sure to give each one equal attention. He feels your hand tug at his polo and he reluctantly pulls back to help you take it off, pushing his pants and boxers off completely too. You sit back and shimmy out of your ruined panties, giving Dennis a show as you slowly peel the wet fabric from the juncture of your thighs. He whimpers with need and a drooling mouth when he sees a string of your arousal cling to your underwear before breaking and coating your thighs. But before he could get his mouth on you, you push him on his back. A grin finds a way across your face, the sight had Dennis’ stomach doing flips and his own shy smile tugging at his lips. He’s about to take his glasses off but you’re not having it.

“No, leave them on,” You grin as he nods and lowers his hands, “you’re always so cute, Den,” you muse as you crawl over him once more, slowly lowering your naked pussy to his cock.

“Ah-haaaah!” He groans, his eyes open wide to watch as your lips drape around his girth. You moan at his noises and begin to rock back and forth, letting your slick leak down his shaft. “Please, please, Sweetheart, please,” he gasps, his hands on your hips to help you grind on him.

“Please, what, Den?” You smirk and run your hands across his chest teasingly. He shivers violently, his eyes falling shut for a moment before pleading up at you.

“Need to be inside you, please— o-or I’m gonna cum like this,” he begged. He sounded so sweet when he begged for you like this, you ‘ll have to be sure to make him do it more often. You listen to him chant ‘please’ under his breath as he fights off his high, your grinding was quickly unravelling him.

“You wanna be inside me, Den?” You lift up on your knees, rubbing his tip through your soft petals. He nods frantically, muttering ‘yes’ over and over, his eyes glued to the spot between your legs. “You’ve been so good for me, always been so good… I think you deserve it, don’t you?”

“Yes, please!” He sobs, his hands now balling up your bedsheets, he’d say anything to get you to sit on his cock right now. Thankfully, he said the magic words. You slowly let gravity pull you down, your tight little hole stretching around him perfectly. Inch by inch you take him in, the hot, wet feeling of your walls finally wrapped around his cock has Dennis speechless, he can’t breathe, he can’t think, he’s certain that his heart stopped beating. “Ohhhhhhhhhhh!” He moans wantonly.

“Ohhh fuck, yes, Dennis!” You gasp as you finally take the last inch, your bodies finally connected. Another wave of pride washes over you when you see the fucked out expression on Dennis’ face. The way his eyes crossed before closing made you feel like a fucking Goddess. You give yourself a moment to relish the burning stretch of his cock nestled deep in your cunt. You’re about to start riding him when his large, surprisingly strong hands grip your waist in a bruising hold, keeping you still.

“Not yet, not yet, please, God, not yet,” he babbles on in a strained voice, his whole body tense and trembling with pleasure as he forces himself back from the edge. You pout but stay still until the rapid rise and fall of his chest calmed down a bit. This time when he tries to hold you in place, you swat his hands away and begin to bounce in his lap. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Oh my God, Den, I can feel you in my fucking stomach,” you moan and speed up, the pleasure his cock provides was quickly becoming addictive and you were jonesing for more. At your words he lets out a high pitched whimper, his eyes wanting to fall shut but he fights to keep them open. He was mesmerized by your body, how his cock seemed to just barely fit inside you, and then your tits—he could watch them bounce in time with your filthy movements for the rest of his life and never get bored. You catch him staring and smirk, bringing his hands to your chest again. Dennis feels how the supple flesh jiggles each time you throw yourself down on his cock. “You like my tits, baby?” You moan when his thumbs rub circles over your nipples.

“Yes, holy fuck, I love them, they’re fucking perfect, so fucking perfect,” he whines as you lean into him, smothering his face in your chest. He’s quick to latch on to your nipple, his arms wound tightly around your middle and his mouth sinful and dirty, his body reacting on pure instinct now. Your pace quickens as he sucks harshly at your tit, his hips rising to meet yours.

“Next time, I’ll let you fuck them,” you whisper huskily in his ear, his body tensing and a loud sob leaving his swollen lips at the thought, “you like that? You imagining fucking my tits, Den? Putting your fat cock between ‘em, pushing them together, and fucking them until you’re coming all over me?”

You knew what your dirty talk was doing to him, each word pushed him closer and closer to his high, which he was desperately trying to postpone. He wanted this to last forever, he wasn’t sure if this was just a one time thing but at the mention of there being a ‘next time,’ Dennis can’t help but fuck into you faster and harder, his hands crawling at your skin with blunt nails. The feeling of your tight cunt milking him for all he’s worth is addictive, then your filthy words and sinful promises only bring him right to the edge. It was all building, and soon it was too much for him to stand.

“Ahh! Oh my God, I’m coming! I’m coming!” He suddenly cries, his eyes wide in shock as he empties himself inside you, those strong thigh muscles tense and shake in time with his short, panicked thrusts. You moan as you feel the heat of his seed fill your womb, the seemingly endless ropes of cum keep coming and coming until he drips out of you. The strangled cries and moans of the man beneath you tell you that you’ve done your job— Dennis Baker was completely ruined. You smirk as he comes down, his hips stalling out as he goes lax under you. “Holy fuuuuuck!” He groaned in a trembling voice, his chest heaving. You chuckle at his fucked out voice.

“How are you feeling, Den? Feelin’ good?” You ask while you catch your own breath, petting his messy hair. He hums and nods, his eyes heavy and he relaxes.

“I feel… God, I-I never felt this way before,” he slurs, and looks up at you with a dopey love-sick smile, one that you can’t help but return. His smile drops as his face twists in worry, “you didn’t finish,” you can see the disappointment in his eyes, “I’m sorry, you just—I just, I couldn’t stop it, I—“

“Shhh, it’s ok, Den,” you soothe with a mischievous smile and wink. Dennis looks up at you in awe, thanking whatever higher power made him the luckiest bastard on the fucking planet. When you started to grind on his hypersensitive cock, his whole body jolted at the sharp sting of sensitivity that shot through him, his back bowing off the bed as he groans, his hands trying to hold you still again.

“Aaaaah! Fuck!” He shouts as you give him gentle little bounces. You lower your mouth to his neck, softly kissing and biting the exposed skin there.

“You can make it up to me this round.”

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[1000night]

Mechanic AU Series

pairings: Curtis Everett, Jake Jensen, Chris Beck, Steve, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Scott Huffman, Dennis Baker, Frank Adler, Nick Fowler, Chris, Lloyd Hansen /plus size female reader

warning: It's polyamory relationships. soft dark, insecure reader, fluff

Summary: When you meet Dennis in the grocery store, you both do the side-to-side dance when you try to pass them in the grocery store aisle. Then it led you to meet Dennis’s other “brothers”, a chain of accidents made you and them become closer. Little do you know, you’ve been marked by them, and they vow to cherish you until their life end.

A/N: No beta, English is not my first language, but all mistakes are mine.

Today is your off day, you checked the fridge, and you find nothing.

Sigh as you close the door, you decide to go down the town, eat your brunch, and go to the grocery store to fill your fridge.

Mint green frill sleeve blouse, mango yellow long skirt, you check your outfits the last time. Take a deep breath, murmuring under breath

“It will be OK, just eating brunch, buying food, and you can go back. Yes, totally don't need to worry.”

You hope the the Cafeteria has self-service ordering machine as you ride your bike.

The brunch was great, they did have some machines you need so you don't have to meet the barista.

But when you went to the grocery store, you and a man met in a aisle.

At first, you went to right side and tried to pass him. But he do the same side of you, you straight up, tried to go left side, and he shifted to left.

This time, you bumped into his strong and large arms. Congratulations =)

“I'm …I'm sorry! I didn't mean to…are you alright?”

You lifted your head up, then swallowed heavy

Oh my Diavolo, he's a delicious beafcake. What have you done so lucky to meet him?

“Um…no, it's ok. Actually it's my fault, I notice you move first and I just…be stupid I guess. I'm sorry.”

His sea foam blue eyes shining behind his glasses, the grey shirt showing his muscles under the fabrics, and his dark blonde hair…

Is he real? Or this attractive man just your imagination?

Blinked slowly, you offered a shy smile to him

“Well, you don't need to apologizes, sir. I would let you go first this time.” You took a gesture as you left some space for him

“Oh…uh hum, thank you, miss.”

You almost couldn't handle the urge to inhale when he passed you. The scents of juniper berry and coffee made you feel dizzy.

You released the breath you were holding, shaken the romance and unrealistic thoughts away, and focus on your shopping list again.

When you found the cereal was on the top shelf, you growled

“Seriously? Why can't the store offer some ladder or whatever to help their customers.”

You complained as you tipped your toes, try to get the cereal was hide in depth

“Miss, can I do something for you?”

A familiar voice showed up behind you, you turn to him as your act paused. Your sights shifted between the cereal and the man you just met a while ago

Then you nodded

“Yes, please. Can you get the cereal for me, sir? I can't reach it even I tip my toes.”

He stepped forward as you stepped back, let him take the cereal for you.

“How many box do you need, miss?”

“Two boxes are enough.”

He grabbed two boxes and place them into your cart. You offered him another smile

“Thanks for your help again, sir. You're so kind.”

“That's not a big deal. Hehe…um,can, could I know your name?”

He rested his hand on the back of his neck, laughed shyly, his eyes landed on your lips, then back to your eyes

“I mean, I think maybe we could drink some coffee sometime or…” The blush was covered up his face and his ears from his neck

Why a man could be so adorable? Why this man want to ask you out? But the more important, who are you dare to turn him down?

“If you're asking me out, then my answer is yes. I'd love to have a date with you.”

It's definitely not the sentences you'd said in normal, especially to a stranger, but his herbivore nature just woke your instinct that deep in your mind, you're a woman prefer to carnivore after all.

“My name is y/n l/n, you can call me y/n,my friend.”

“Dennis, Dennis Baker. It's nice to meet you, y/n.”

God help me, is today really my lucky day?

When you screaming internally, you didn't notice Dennis is looking over your shoulder and smirked

Behind your back, there were three other men staring at you and Dennis, and they smiled back.

[sconnie-doesnt-know]

I... ahh...I'm speechless.

You've made me totally into Dennis? What is this word sorcery? Wow. I'm glad there are sooo many chapters ahead for me.

Take Me Home - Part 4

PAIRING: Dennis Baker x Reader

SUMMARY: It’s been nearly a year since your ex-boyfriend dumped you and left you with a laundry list of insecurities, and you haven’t been able to really put yourself out there since. But when Dennis shows up at the adoption fair you’re running for your job at the animal shelter, there’s just something about him that makes you feel like you’re ready to try again.

WORD COUNT: 6.3K

WARNINGS (more to come): Body Issues (Dennis and Reader), References to Past Animal Abuse, Emotionally Abusive Exes (Dennis and Reader), Mention of Past Domestic Violence (Dennis's Evil Ex), Dry Humping/Thigh Riding, Two Idiots In Love Making Out In A Car. 18+ only, no minors.

*TAGLIST: @littlelioncub43, @filthy-gorgeous, @whatinthestyles, @justile, @mazarinqueen

*Taglist is open to 18+ readers (no blank blogs) who comment, reblog, and/or chat with me via asks. If you just want to read lowkey, that's cool and you do you, but the taglist is reserved for the lovely people who want to interact with me and my story :)

Series Masterlist

Part Four

Dennis can’t breathe when he looks at you so he keeps his eyes on the road for the short drive to the restaurant. Occasionally, he sneaks a glance at your legs, so smooth and soft looking, as you fiddle with the hem of your dress and pull it down towards your knees where it’s riding up. He fills the silence with Jax updates, telling you everything they’ve been up to in the days since he took him home. He knows he’s repeating himself—that you’ve heard a lot of it already through his text updates—but Jax is the thing you have in common and he doesn’t quite know what else to talk about.

Because he hasn’t been on a first date in over a decade, and he was never much good at it to begin with. Dennis didn’t have many girlfriends before he met his ex-wife, and when he did meet her, he’d felt so grateful that she even gave him the time of day that he let her take the lead in their relationship (and that continued throughout their marriage). Dennis doesn’t know why she married him—not anymore. He’d thought that she loved him (because why would you marry someone who you don’t love) but he sees now that she was only ever using him as a means to an end.

Dennis has family money; his ex was pretty much broke when they met. But she wanted so much more out of life than she could provide for herself—the big fancy house, the nice cars, the expensive clothes—and Dennis was happy to give her all of that and more. She didn’t want to work, and Dennis was ok with that. All he asked in return was for her to love him and be faithful to him, but she couldn’t (or wouldn’t) give him even that much. Of course, she pretended at first—to hook him, Dennis sees now; their sex life had been just fine for while, or so Dennis thought until the day she told him she’d been faking it for years and she no longer wanted a physical relationship with him.

Still, Dennis stayed, because he loved her (or the person he thought she was). She got progressively more cruel over the years—constantly reminding him how unsatisfied she was and how resentful she was to be “stuck with him.” For many years, it only made him try harder, but the constant gifts and affirmations of his love for her did nothing to fix the problem. He should have left when she started cheating, but by that point he was so totally broken down that he didn’t believe there was anyone else out there who could love him.

Dennis didn’t want to spend the rest of his life alone, so he tolerated things that no one should have to tolerate: constant verbal abuse, infidelity, even the occasional slap or shove when she was drunk. He never retaliated, never laid a hand on her or said a mean word. He just took all of it and ate it and shrunk into himself, walking through life like a zombie, just waiting for the next incident of cruelty and rage.

He’s been lonely since the divorce, but he’d decided that he’d rather be alone than spend another moment with her. He had no plans to start dating; he just wanted a companion so his house didn’t feel so empty. It’s why he went looking for a dog, but he found so much more than Jax at that adoption fair. In you, he found hope, and it fucking terrifies him, but as nervous and afraid as he is, it’s better than feeling dead inside. Trying and failing is better than not trying at all—at least that’s what his therapist says. As Dennis parks the car and looks over at your smiling face, he hopes to god that it’s true.

He wants to open the car door for you but you’re out and up before he can get over to the passenger side so he settles for opening the front door of the restaurant. He wants to be a gentleman, to treat you right, to show you that he’s worth a shot (even though he’s not sure that he is). He wants to place his hand on the small of your back to guide you inside, like he always sees happy couples do, but he doesn’t dare for fear that you’ll freeze at his touch. It’s too soon for something like that, he thinks; he hasn’t earned the right to touch you at all, especially not in such an intimate way. The last thing he wants to do is scare you off before you’ve even sat down for dinner.

Dennis is able to make it to your chair before you and pull it out for you, and you smile at him and thank him as you take your seat. As he settles into his own chair, his nerves are at an 11 and he puts his hands in his lap so you don’t see them shaking. He tries to remember what his therapist told him during their emergency phone session a few days prior.

We know that projecting confidence is an issue for you, but just be open and honest. Stay positive. Don’t talk badly about yourself. Make eye contact. If you find yourself rambling or going to a dark place, stop and ask her questions about herself. Show her you’re a good listener and interested in her and what she has to say. If you feel real panic setting in, take a bathroom break.

Dennis told himself he would have one drink, just to calm his nerves. Not that he drinks so much—and he’s cut back a lot since those dark days post-divorce when he was going through a six-pack a night—but he doesn’t know if you even drink and he doesn’t want to embarrass himself or make you feel uncomfortable. 

“I heard the sangria here is really good,” you say. “Do you like sangria?”

“I’m more of a beer guy,” Dennis replies. “Bourbon sometimes, but mostly just beer. Not very classy of me, I know.”

Dennis looks down at the drink menu and curses himself for already having screwed up the “no self-deprecating talk” rule his therapist had given him.

“There’s nothing wrong with beer,” you say. “I just drank way too much cheap beer in college and I can’t touch the stuff anymore.”

Dennis decides to order a bourbon cocktail instead of his usual IPA; he doesn’t want to taste like beer if by some miracle you let him kiss you. He can’t think about that yet, though. He’s getting ahead of himself. After the waiter takes the drink orders, Dennis focuses on the menu and you do the same.

“I, um, I didn’t know what kind of food you like,” you say nervously. “So I thought, you know, tapas… there’s something for everyone. I hope this is ok.”

“It’s great,” Dennis replies. “I’ve heard good things about this place. Do you… um… do you wanna, like, share stuff or-”

“Sure, yeah, if you want to, yeah.”

“Cool. I mean, you’re supposed to share tapas, right? That’s kind of part of the whole thing?”

“It is. But we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I want to if you want to.”

Dennis looks at you looking at him and then you laugh and he does, too. “One of us has to make a decision,” you say.

“OK,” Dennis replies, channeling as much authority as he can manage. “We’re sharing.”

The two of you pore over the menu, going through each thing, and it’s a process because each time you pick something, you insist on making sure that Dennis would like it. Dennis isn’t a particularly adventurous eater, but he’s willing to try anything that you want. The grilled octopus that strikes your fancy is one of the more terrifying choices, but he doesn’t let on that he’s put off.

“I’ve never had octopus,” he says, committed to the “open and honest” rule.

“Oh! Well it’s really good, but we don’t have to get it.”

“No,” Dennis says. “I want to try it. I, uh, want to start trying new things more.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, concern in your eyes. “I feel like I’m pressuring you into it.”

“We’re getting it,” he says. “And whatever else you want. I’m trying new things tonight. I’ve decided. So you just order for us, ok? I’m sure it’ll all be great.”

“Ok,” you say, and you smile softly at him.

Dennis forces himself to hold eye contact with you even though every cell in his body is screaming at him to look away. It’s so easy for him to get lost in your eyes, and he’s scared of getting flustered and saying the wrong thing. Luckily, the waiter shows up with the drinks and to take the food order before Dennis has the chance to fuck things up.

It’s hard for you to focus sitting across from Dennis with his shirtsleeves rolled up, his large veiny forearms dusted with hair just sitting there mesmerizing you. You tell yourself just be cool, calm, collected but it’s hard when you feel anything but. Part of you wishes he hadn’t dressed up for the occasion, that if he’d been sitting there in his trademark polo-khaki combo you’d be able to keep your shit together. But he just looks so damn sexy in his new clothes, and the fact that he went out of his way to go shopping for your date is making you feel some type of way, too. 

You force yourself to make eye contact and realize that Dennis has asked you a question you didn’t hear.

“Sorry,” you say. “I, uh, what did you say?”

“I asked you how long you’ve been working at the shelter.”

“Oh! Um, about 2 years now.”

“And you like it there?”

“I love it. I mean, it’s hard sometimes. The shit we see… it’s just horrible the level of cruelty some people are capable of. But, you know, the good parts outweigh the bad. How about you? How long have you been at P&W?”

“Not long,” he says. “About a year. I worked as a paralegal for a private firm before that.”

“Do you like what you do?” you ask.

Dennis pauses, because the “open and honest” rule and the “no negativity” rule are at odds with one another when it comes to this particular question. He decides on honesty.

“Not really. I mean, it’s fine. It’s a job. It’s not particularly interesting or gratifying—not like what you do.”

“Well what do you want to do?” you ask, taking a sip of your drink. “I mean, if you could do anything, what would you do?”

Dennis takes a second to think about it, trying to come up with some answer that would make him sound cool and interesting, but he opts for the truth again. “I don’t know,” he says. “I never really thought about it.”

“Really?” you ask, squinting a bit at him.

“Yeah. I guess I just always felt like a job is a job. You go to work, you come home, you collect your paycheck.”

“That’s fair,” you say. “But, so, what do you like to do outside work?”

Dennis takes a sip of his drink and swallows deep. “I, uh, well… I like to work out and run and hike and stuff.”

“Clearly.” The word comes out before you can stop it and you look down at your hands. You look back up at him and you can feel your skin flaming. “I, uh, it’s just… I mean, it’s pretty obvious that you exercise. You’re very… fit.”

You can tell you’ve embarrassed him and you silently curse the fact that apparently you have no fucking filter when this man is around.

“Thanks,” he says sheepishly. “I, uh, I like the endorphins, and I like being out in nature. I, um, I like to… uh… I garden sometimes. Is that weird?”

“Not at all,” you reply, because it’s not weird. It’s very sexy, and now you’re thinking about Dennis all dirty and sweaty on his knees tilling the soil and you have to stop thinking about that immediately or you’re going to explode. “So what do you grow?”

“I have a little vegetable garden in the backyard. Just basic stuff—tomatoes, lettuce, bell peppers, green beans. I’ve got some herbs, too and, uh, some flowers—tulips and peonies mostly. I’ve been wanting to get into roses, too.”

“That sounds amazing,” you say. “I’d love to see it.”

“Oh, it’s nothing really,” he replies, not meeting your eyes.

“It doesn’t sound like nothing. I can barely keep a succulent alive so I’m incredibly impressed. How did you get into that?”

“I’ve just always loved nature. It, uh… it calms me. And my mom used to garden a lot and I would help her when I was little. Our whole backyard was filled with flowers and she had this beautiful rose garden.”

“Well I’m sure she can help you get yours started then,” you say, and you immediately know you’ve said the wrong thing when you see the pained look on Dennis’s face.

“She, uh, she passed away a few years ago.”

“Shit,” you say. “I’m so sorry, Dennis.”

“It’s ok,” he assures you with a gentle smile.

Your food comes to break the tension of your fuck-up and it smells so incredibly good that you almost forget that you just made this very nice man very sad because you’re a complete idiot who can’t keep her mouth shut. At least he likes the octopus, or if he doesn’t, he’s doing a very convincing job of faking it. Conversation mostly comes to a halt as the both of you devour your food. You were much hungrier than you even thought and it takes a while for you to even come up for air, but when you do start to slow down, you try to think of something to say that isn’t totally idiotic.

“This was all so good,” Dennis says. “Of course, I’m basically living on garden salads and pizza these days.” He stops himself and shakes his head a bit. “That’s embarrassing. I, uh, I just don’t really know much about cooking. I want to learn, though.”

“My ex was a chef,” you say, and your whole body tenses up and freezes when you hear the words come out of your mouth. “Uh, sorry. I don’t know why I brought that up. Forget I said that.”

Dennis smiles at you and it contains so much kindness that it almost puts you at ease. “It’s ok,” he says. “I’ve had to stop myself from mentioning my ex-wife like five times since we started dinner. Not that I want to talk about her, it’s just that it’s been the last 12 years of my life, you know? So, um, yeah. Don’t even worry about it.”

“Still,” you say. “I feel bad. I don’t want to talk about him or think about him, like, ever again.”

“I know the feeling,” he replies. “Believe me.”

You so desperately want to know more about what happened in Dennis’s marriage and how this sweet sexy guy ended up getting dumped but you know better than to ask. It’s too soon. He doesn’t owe you any explanations. But still, you can’t help but wonder if the answers to your questions might reveal some red flags about Dennis that you can’t see. You need to change the subject and fast, so you decide to pivot back to Jax—the one topic you know will put you back on track. But before you get a chance, Dennis excuses himself to go to the men’s room.

Fuck. You fucked up. You really fucked up. And it was going so well. You just had to open your stupid fucking mouth and bring up fucking Brad. You want to curse him for continuing to ruin your life, but this one is solidly on you. You grab your phone out of your purse and see several texts from Mal.

M: Sending you good first date vibes!

M: Must be going well since I haven’t heard from you :)

M: Badger and I are just chillin on the couch waiting for all the gory details.

M: I’m watching The Notebook and I’ve decided you need to be kissed ;)

You shoot her a quick emergency text and she gets back to you immediately, almost like she’s been waiting for your inevitable screw up.

Y: I fucked up. I think I ruined everything.

M: Calm down. What happened?

Y: I brought Brad up out of nowhere for no fucking reason and I think it made him super uncomfortable because he left to go to the bathroom and it’s been like 5 minutes. Do you think he left?

M: He didn’t leave. And whatever. You said he’s talked a little about his ex before. People have exes. Shit comes up. It’s not a big deal. Don’t turn it into a whole thing. How was it going before that?

Y: Good. Really good. He looks so fucking hot I feel like I’m gonna die.

M: Ummm pics pls.

Y: I didn’t just randomly take a picture of him. That would be crazy.

M: Just fucking sneak one I need to see now.

Y: Fuck. He’s coming back. Gotta go.

You pretend to still be texting but you sneak a picture of Dennis and shoot it off to Mal before putting your phone away. You must look like hell because when Dennis gets back to the table, he takes one look at you and asks, “You ok?”

“Yeah,” you lie. “I, uh, I was just checking in with my roommate. You know… dating in the 21st century… gotta make sure someone knows you’re not dead in a ditch or chained up in a basement somewhere.”

“Wait, that’s a thing women do? Like, you have a dating buddy system when you go out with someone?”

“Yeah, it’s a thing. Unfortunately.”

“Well that’s terrifying. I’m sorry you have to do that. I, uh, I’m not… like that.”

“Oh my God! No! I know that! It’s just a habit. It’s not like I even date much anyway.”

Dennis looks perplexed. “Really?”

“Yeah, I just… I don’t know. The whole online dating thing is kind of a nightmare and it’s hard to meet people when you’re at work all the time.” You smile at him. “But that’s where I met you, so…”

“I’m really happy I met you,” he says, and you feel like you could cry but you hold it together. “And I feel really lucky, because this is my first date in 12 years and it could have been with someone terrible but instead it’s with you. And I really really like you.”

“I really like you, too, Dennis.”

He reaches his big hand across the table and places it gently on top of yours, and you feel it absolutely everywhere. Somehow it both relaxes your body and makes you tense up, but only in certain places—for example, your thighs, which you have to squeeze together because the simple act of a man’s warm hand sitting atop yours is enough to have you throbbing. God, it’s been so fucking long, and you find yourself wishing that you could put yourself into Mal’s body and mind and do what she would do: lean over the table, pushing up her cleavage in the most obvious way, and whisper, “Wanna get out of here?”

Instead, you gently pull your hand away and ask him if he wants dessert even though you’re stuffed.

“I can’t eat another bite,” he says, “but if you want it…”

“No,” you reply. “I’m stuffed, too. I just…”

You trail off, because you can’t bring yourself so say what you want to say, which is that you don’t want the night to end yet.

When the bill comes, you go for your wallet but Dennis snatches up the check and says, “Not a chance,” and you know it’s pointless to argue (and you don’t want to anyway) so you thank him kindly for dinner.

Dennis’s heart is pounding out of his chest when he signs the check. He can hear it in his ears and he thinks it’s so damn loud you must be able to hear it, too. He doesn’t want the night to end; he wants to ask you if you want to grab a drink—not that he wants another or wants you to keep drinking for any nefarious reason, but because he just wants to spend more time with you. Asking you to come over to his place is out of the question for several reasons, not just the Jax situation but the fact that he’s not trying to make any assumptions about what you may or may not be willing to do on the first date. Besides, even if you did want to go home with him, he’s not ready for that. He wants it, oh sweet Christ does he want it, but he knows there’s no faster way to put an end to things than for you to realize right away that he’ll never be able to satisfy you.

It’s unfair of him, he thinks, to lead you on like this—to make you think he’s somebody he’s not. As he walks with you to his car, he contemplates ending things right now, before he has a chance to disappoint you. He had an amazing time with you, and he doesn’t know where he found the courage to tell you how much he likes you, but apparently you feel the same way. In the moment, it had felt incredible—like one of his many dreams of you come true—but the closer he gets to dropping you off at your car, it’s somehow so much worse that you actually like him. If it had gone terribly, it would be easy for Dennis to walk away. You would make the choice for him, and he would carry on as he has been for months—learning how to be happy alone. But now he has a choice to make: does he keep seeing you, get more invested, fall even harder for you and let you fall for him, when he knows it’s bound to end in disaster, or does he just stop it now, when it will hurt less?

“Dennis?” you say, and he realizes that he’s been parked next to your car and staring off into space for who knows how long. “Are you ok?”

He doesn’t know what to do and he’s starting to panic again, just like he did in the restaurant when he had to take his bathroom breather to calm himself down. But now he has nowhere to run and hide; you’re right there, sitting in his passenger seat with your brow furrowed and he knows he has to say something. He takes a deep breath, trying to build up the courage to tell you that he’s sorry but he just can’t do this, but then you reach out and take his hand.

“Talk to me,” you plead, and Dennis lets out the breath he’d been holding.

“I, uh, I just… I had a really nice time.”

“Me too.”

Be open, Dennis. Be honest.

“I’m just nervous,” he says, turning to you. “I don’t know how to do this.”

You smile and give his hand a little squeeze. “It’s ok. Neither do I.”

The fact that Dennis is clearly as nervous (if not more so) than you puts your mind at ease. You’d spent the car ride back from the restaurant in silence, just the sounds of the Classic rock station in the background as you wondered what comes next. It didn’t help that, after receiving the picture of Dennis you’d sent, Mal had responded with a series of increasingly lewd and aggressive texts telling you all the things you need to let Dennis do to you. The texts had make you smile, but they did nothing to calm your nerves. Because you want him to kiss you. Hell, you want him to do more than kiss you, but the vibe on the ride to your car was decidedly different than the one you got at dinner. You didn’t know what you did in between then and now to make him so uncomfortable, but you needed to know, so you decided to just straight-up ask.

And it worked, because now Dennis is being honest with you about the way he feels—telling you that it’s nothing you did, that you’re amazing and perfect and so fucking pretty that it’s hard for him to believe that you’re actually interested in him. You don’t understand where all his insecurities are coming from; you’d thought you made it very clear that you’re attracted to him and that you very much like him, but you tell yourself that you’re really not one to talk when it comes to those type of feelings. After all, you can’t take a compliment. You have to hide your face behind your hands when he compliments you, force yourself not to argue with him that you are none of those nice things he says you are.

But while your mind is fighting him, your body is not. As he speaks, you find yourself leaning across the console to be closer to him. You feel the heat coming off is body and the woody scent of his cologne fills your nose. You want him to kiss you so desperately but you can’t make the first move, so you wait—your face just a few inches from his—and you hope he feels the same pull that you do.

His leg is bouncing and you can see the sweat starting to bead on his forehead and you think to yourself—I’m too close, I’ve crossed the line—but when he turns to face you, he swallows deep and asks, his voice shaky, “Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” you whisper.

He brings his lips to yours slowly, and even though it’s a chaste kiss—all lips, no tongue—you feel it from the roots of your hair to the tips of your toes. You taste the smoky bourbon on his breath and the warmth of his palm sears your skin as he cradles your face and runs his thumb across the apple of your cheek, his other hand resting gently on your hip. The way he’s touching you so timidly—like you’re something he might break—has you ready to explode. You want to feel his big strong hands everywhere, and when you grab the back of his neck and deepen the kiss, he squeezes the flesh of your hip just enough to make you moan into his mouth.

He pulls away, concern in his eyes. “Did I hurt you?” he asks, and you smile and shake your head no, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. 

You take a moment to drink in his face, pushing an errant piece of hair out of his eyes his cheeks flushed and pupils blown and that bottom lip of his so plump and pink you simply can’t help yourself. You grab him by the collar of his button down and kiss him again, sucking his bottom lip into your mouth and taking a little nibble, and that’s when he absolutely loses it. He pulls away just long enough to take his glasses off and toss them on top of the dashboard before he dives back into the kiss, moving his hand down to take a handful of your ass and squeezing it hard as he brings his other hand around the back of your neck and pulls you closer. You’re fisting his shirt so tight in both hands you start to feel guilty about wrecking it and you want to feel those biceps anyway so you bring one hand to the nape of his neck as you wrap your other hand around his massive arm. Of course, you can’t get it all the way around—not nearly— so you find the strongest meatiest part of it and grip it tight.

It feels heavenly to be kissed like this after so long. You can feel his desire for you in every swipe of his tongue and hear it in every sigh and moan you pull out of him. He’s got you going crazy—too crazy, because before you even know what you’re doing, you’re throwing a leg over him and climbing into his lap. Your dress has ridden all the way up to your hips and you know your panties are on full display but you don’t care, and when you adjust yourself to get a little more comfortable, you feel it—he’s rock hard underneath you and holy fuck it feels big but before you get a chance to absorb that information, he grabs your hips and pushes you down his thighs.

“Wait,” he says, and you instantly feel guilty for having pounced on him without his consent.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. I just-”

“No,” he says, “don’t apologize. It’s just…” Dennis looks down at the bulge in his pants and back up to you. “It’s embarrassing.”

You cock your head to the side. “What’s embarassing?”

He squeezes his eyes closed and speaks through gritted teeth. “I… I’m, you know.”

“Hard?” you ask, and he nods.

You laugh because the fact that he thinks it’s anything shameful—that the fact that he could get hard just from kissing you is anything other than a total turn-on—is absolutely ridiculous.

“Dennis,” you say, taking his face in your hands. “It’s not embarrassing. It’s really fucking hot, actually. And I… I’m so…”

You can’t bring yourself to say it out loud, that you’re so wet your panties are practically glued to your body, so you decide to show instead of tell. You take his hand and gently guide it between your legs so that he can feel your slick leaking through the fabric, and when his fingers graze the cotton, he gasps and his whole body shudders,

“Oh fuck,” he says, looking up at you with eyes so innocent and sweet. “Is that because of me?” he asks and you don’t understand how he could possibly even need to ask that question.

You lean forward, ghosting his earlobe with your lips as you whisper, “Yes.”

You try to shimmy up his legs, to get closer to him, but still he resists.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, because you know he wants you. You can feel it and you can see it, but something is holding him back.

“Nothing,” he says, but you don’t believe him.

“Talk to me,” you plead. “Just tell me.”

“It’s just…” He trails off and looks down to where your bodies are connected as he huffs out a deep breath before looking back up at you. “You’re so… god, you’re so fucking gorgeous and you feel so good and I just… I don’t want to ruin it.”

You still don’t understand but you assure him that he’s not going to ruin anything, and this time when you move closer to him, he lets you.

“Please keep kissing me,” you beg. “You’re such a good kisser. I’ve never been kissed like that.”

“Really?” he asks. “It… it felt good?”

“So fucking good. I need more. Please, Dennis.”

He gives you a soft smile as you take his face in your hands and open your mouth to him, and when he wraps his arms around your back you can feel just how strong he is. You can’t help it; your absolutely throbbing for him and you need some contact to ease the ache between your thighs. You get close enough to grind on the bulge in his pants—now somehow even bigger than before, which you didn’t think was even possible. You moan into his mouth when you find the perfect angle, you start to roll your hip on top of him.

Suddenly he pulls out of this kiss. “Fuck fuck fuck wait I… I’m gonna…” 

You feel his hips jerk beneath you and he whimpers against your neck and you gasp when you feel feel the warm wet spot against your thigh.

“Goddammit,” he shouts, so loud that it startles you, and he won’t look at you, just hangs his head with his forehead resting against your breastbone. “I’m sorry.”

“Dennis,” you say, gently tugging on his hair to force him to look you in the eyes. “What are you sorry for?”

“I couldn’t… fuck… I couldn’t stop it. I tried not to but you just… you’re so… fuck.” He pushes you down his legs and tries to cover the wet spot with his hands. “I made a mess. I don’t want to get it on you.”

You have to giggle because you’re so fucking turned on that you’re about two second from taking his pants down and licking him clean, but you realize by the look on his face that he thinks you’re laughing at him.

“Oh my God, no. I’m not… it’s fine. It’s better than fine.”

“No it’s not,” he says, and he sounds so dejected that you just want to hug him and kiss him—anything to make him feel better.

“Dennis, look at me,” you demand. “Do you have any idea how fucking hot it is that I could make you cum just from kissing you and touching you? Do you know how good that makes me feel?”

“I… I made you feel good?”

“Fuck yes,” you say. “And you can make me feel even better if you just relax and let me make an even bigger mess.”

“I don’t-”

“Shh,” you say, pressing your finger to his lips.

You slide back up his legs and position yourself over his thigh, grabbing his hands and putting them on your hips before placing them on his shoulders to balance yourself. You can feel the hard muscle tense against your core as you grind yourself on him, and he stares at you with his mouth open.

“You feel so good,” you moan, and he grips your hips harder, panting as he pushes and pulls you in time with the pace you’ve set.

He says, “You’re so fucking pretty, baby,” and just that one little comment is almost enough to make you cum. “Can I touch you? Please let me touch you.”

“Yes,” you whine, “please.”

The second you give him permission, his big hands are kneading your breasts through the fabric of your dress. You don’t let yourself think about what happens if he pulls it down and sees one of the many parts of yourself that you want to hide from him. You can’t think about it, because you’re so fucking close and his thumbs circling your pebbled nipples are sending shockwaves through your body. God you want so badly to feel his skin on your skin, feel his mouth on you, but you’re afraid it’ll ruin things and you just want to cum—you need to cum. You’ve never needed to cum so bad in your life.

He leaves the fabric in place, though. He doesn’t try to expose you or push the fabric of your panties to the side as you ride his thigh. He just lets his hands roam all over your body, only daring to reach up under your skirt and grab your ass over the fabric as he watches you come undone on top of him. You feel him getting hard again and it sends you over the edge.

“Oh God. Oh fuck. I’m gonna cum.”

And then you do and you dig your nails into the meat of his shoulders as you press your forehead to his. You feel yourself soaking his pants underneath you—his and hers wet spots staining the fabric of his brand new slacks—and he runs his hands up and down your back as you shudder through the last few aftershocks.

Neither of you speak for a while, the only sounds in the car your heavy breathing until you bring your lips to his and give him a gentle kiss. He’s still hard beneath you, and when you bring your lips to his neck and peppering it with kisses he shudders and moans and tells you to stop.

“Sweetheart, if you keep doing that, I’m gonna lose it again.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” you ask. “I mean, you’re still hard. I can… you know… take care of it… if you want.”

“No,” he says, but not unkindly. “You don’t have to do that. It’ll go away, I just… I might need you to get off me.”

You laugh and crawl back into the passenger seat. You would absolutely suck the soul out of this man if that’s what he wanted—and blowjobs are the one department where you feel 100% confident—but if he’s content to let it go away on its own, you don’t want to push him. Besides, you’ve gone far further already than you thought you would, but you don’t regret it. You feel fucking fantastic actually, and you hope he feels the same. You decide you need to ask him, to make sure you’re on the same page.

“Dennis?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you… uh… was that ok?”

He turns to you with a dopey smile on his face. “It was better than ok. Did… uh… did you think it was ok?”

You smile and grab his hand and give it a little squeeze. “It was amazing, and we should do it again very very soon.”

“Anytime you want,” he replies.

“How about this weekend?” you ask, pulling the skirt of your dress down. “I’d love to come over and see Jax and I think it’s been enough time that he should be ok.”

“He’d love that,” Dennis replies. “I would, too.” He pauses for a moment and swallows deep. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

“This was the best night I’ve had in… I don’t even know… maybe ever.”

“Me too,” you say, and when you give him a final kiss goodnight, you know you truly mean it.

PART FIVE >>>

[reidandweep]

Stitching

Spencer Reid x Reader (female)

A/N- Much like Adam Driver, I have been a huge fan of Matthew Gray Gubler and criminal minds for years. With quarantine, I decided to re-watch the show from the beginning and I had some inspiration. My writing tends to take a while but if you have any requests or idea for Spencer Reid, please send them my way.

Word Count- 6286 words

Warning- Angst, mentions of violence and torture, fluff, tears, and the usual criminal minds details.

If you prick us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh? If you poison us do we not die? And if you wrong us shall we not revenge? -William Shakespeare.

QUANTICO, VIRGINIA

“Good morning my lover and friends. As of 8:45 am, yesterday morning, four bodies have been found across the Washington State area. Locations confirmed to be Pomeroy, Baker City, Salem, and Mill Creek. All victims were very similar in physical appearance; Caucasian, red hair, brown eyes, approximately 5ft 4’.”

Garcia swiped her tablet to display family photographs of the victims on the screen. The team watched, in the debriefing room, as they scanned through their own tablets; reading through the details. Spencer’s eyes flittered over the images as his fingers scanned across the words in his paper file; still adamant on not working with technology like the rest of his team.

“What about the cause of death? How were they found?”

Garcia shivered at Rossi’s question.

“It’s not a pretty image. Each victim was dismembered at the elbows, knees, neck, and stomach. Further cuts were made vertically down the stomach and across the face, arms, and legs. Not deep enough to cut through bone, but deep enough to bleed out. Where the unsub cut our victims, he then sewed them back together.”

Emily looked up at Garcia.

“Are you saying the lacerations were made before the victim’s died?”

“Precisely. Each autopsy report came back the same with the cause of death pointing to the direction of blood loss; specifically, from the throat.”

The team looked at the new images before them. Multiple pictures appeared on the screen, showing the bodies of the victims. The pictures showing the women laid out in the same pose, thick thread holding together the pieces of their corpses. All had their eyes closed, except one.

“Garcia, the last victim, zoom into her face.”

Garcia did as Spencer asked.

“Her eyes are closed.”

Spencer nodded, glancing towards JJ as she spoke.

“Meaning that he felt remorse for this murder.”

Derek scrolled through the pictures on his tablet.

“The other three victim’s eyes are open, indicating that he wanted them to look. To watch what he was doing, whatever it may have been.”

Spencer looked across the table at the questioning faces.

“So, what changed between the third and the fourth victim?”

Hotch stood from his seat, indicating the others to grab their belonging.

“We can discuss further on jet. Wheels up in thirty.”

WASHINGTON STATE

Being greeted by the local police department in Clagstone, Spencer and the team began their investigation into the murders. Spencer did not know what it was, but the stitching on the bodies felt familiar. Like he had seen them before.

Looking up from his files, Spencer watched as Derek walked into the room, ending a call with who he could only presume to be Garcia.

“Garcia has just completed background checks on our latest victim. Lily Trent visited local film screenings at the Southview Centre religiously, to watch horror movies in particular. Seems like the girl loved anything horror and Halloween; according to her roommate and her computer history. It seems that are other victims did also.”

Spencer stood from his seat and walked towards the whiteboard at the back of the room. Writing down the details Derek stated, his brain began to filter through the relevant information needed.

“Halloween is ranked the ninth most celebrated holiday in the world. With different interpretations of the holiday occurring according to country and culture. Wearing costumes at Halloween did not even become an occurrence until 1585, with the first instance recorded in Scotland.”

Derek chuckled at Reid’s excitement. He knew the boy loved Halloween.

“Well it all looks like they were pretty huge fans of the holiday and horror films. Maybe our unsub was too.”

Spencer looked down at the photos in his hand, scanning his memory for any correlation.

“Maybe, it’s not just horror, but a particular film. If all the victims were presented in a certain way, maybe the unsub is trying to replicate what happened to a character in a particular film.”

Derek crossed his arms over his chest.

“I’ll call Garcia to search through all the victims search history to see if any particular horror films come up in each one. Do you know of any films that the unsub could have replicated?”

Spencer shook his head.

“I can collate his actions to hundreds of films but, the method of torture and look of the victims, I can’t think of one horror feature that pinpoints all that the unsub has done.”

A thought unexpectedly popped into Spencer’s mind. Derek cocked his head at the sudden halt from the resident genius.

“But I know someone who might.”

UNIVERSITY OF WASHINGTON

“The importance of genre in film alters many of the other aspects. The characters and their narrative arcs, the music score, cinematography, the edit, and so much more. Sometimes genre even dictates the director who signs onto the project. Dennis Dugan would not have a directing career if Adam Sandler stopped making comedy movies. Because that is what he directs. He doesn’t direct comedies; he directs Adam Sandler comedies. Which, in my opinion, are a whole genre on their own.”

The class chuckled.

“Genre plays a part in everyday life. Sometimes, your day will be led by romance, or grief, or action. There may be drama, or comedy, or even silence.”

The class looked on in concentration as Y/N walked across the floor. If someone who did not attend the college walked past the classroom, they could’ve presumed that she was a student. She looked young enough.

“It controls the way the characters talk, act, and move. How the plot thickens and pushes forward and…”

The doors at the back of the auditorium opened. Y/N looked up at the sound of the intrusion to see figures that she could not recognise, and one that she did.

Clearing her throat, she continued.

“And how it even ends. We shall leave it at that today. What I want you to do in the meantime is research a genre in particular and come up with examples that counteract the stereotypes that have been enforced upon the genre itself. Hand it in to your professor first thing Monday morning. Thank you.”

Y/N watched as the students collected their things and filtered out of the room. The figures waiting till she was only left before they walked down the steps.

Coming to a stop in front of her desk, Y/N crossed her arms and waited. Spencer stepped forward with a crooked smile on his face.

“Hi Y/N.”

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle.

“Long time no see stranger.”

Spencer’s cheeks burned at Y/N’s words. The team shared looks between them at the unfamiliar display. They had seen Spencer blush at people before, but not for a long time.

Spencer cleared his throat, preparing himself to act professional.

“This is Dr Y/F/N Y/L/N. Y/N travels across the country to guest speak at different universities on her topic at hand. She specialises in film studies, more importantly the focus of characters and genres. If I can’t connect the unsub’s actions to a film, Y/N most definitely can.”

Y/N smiled at Spencer’s praise.

“Nice to meet you all. So, what are you here to talk to me about Doc? Obviously, you’re here on a case and if you are asking for my help, I’m guessing it’s going to be pretty gruesome.”

Spencer blushed at the nickname; caught off guard by the word slipping of her tongue.

Sending a raised look towards Reid, Hotch began to explain why they were there.

“Were looking into a case of connected murders. All victims were found to have been mutilated and tortured in the same way. As well as showing resemblances in their physical appearances. With research, we’ve found that each victim was particularly fond of horror films and Halloween. We would just like for you to take a look and see if you could recognise if the ways in which they were harmed stemmed from a film in particular.”

Y/N nodded her head.

“Of course, anything to help.”

She reached for the files from Spencer’s hands, ignoring the tablet pushed in her direction by JJ.

“Sorry, I prefer to use paper. I only really use technology for my lectures or to watch films if they cannot be purchased in physical form.”

Derek smirked, shooting looks to his team, as his eyes landed on Spencer. He never thought he would meet a technophobe like Reid.

Y/N scanned through the pictures and documents, looking in detail at the lacerations at hand. She identified the similarities between the victims, as her mind swirled through the images and characters from the films, she knew held similarities.

“What were the names of all the victims?”

Emily looked towards the woman.

“That information is classified.”

Y/N did not blink at her abrasiveness.

“Were any of them called Sally?”

The team looked perplexed at her question.

“No. Why that name in particular?”

Y/N continued to scan the pages as Rossi questioned her.

“Because the unsub isn’t replicating anything from a horror movie. The unsub is replicating the physical appearance and staging of a character from an animated movie. A Disney one to be more specific.”

A light bulb flickered in Spencer’s mind as he stared at Y/N in realisation. The hair colours. The stitches. It made sense now.

“The Nightmare Before Christmas.”

LOCAL POLICE DEPARTMENT

“The Nightmare Before Christmas is a 1993 American stop-motion animated musical Halloween-Christmas fantasy film directed by Henry Selick and produced and conceived by Tim Burton. It became a cult classic during the early 2000s with orchestral concerts occurring every year to celebrate the spectacle of the film.”

Spencer indicated for JJ to change the monitor as he and Y/N stood in front of the team to explain the information.

“Originally, the story began as a poem written by Tim Burton. Both narratives follow the protagonist, Jack Skellington, into his journey to Christmastown, and how he tries to make Christmas his own. The character in question that your unsub is replicating is the love interest of our protagonist. Created by Dr Finkelstein, Sally is a ragdoll-esque character whose body is covered with stitches to keep her together. The form in which all the women were found is identical to this scene in the movie.”

The screen changes to show the scene in question; paused at the precise moment to prover her point.

“All red haired, all Caucasian, all eerily the same. The stitches are exactly the same and the pose in which they are in the pictures are also.”

“We now know which film our unsub is mimicking, but how can we produce a distinguished profile of our unsub? All we can say is that between his third and fourth victim, he suddenly began to feel remorseful of his crimes.”

Y/N looked towards Spencer, waiting for him to speak as he knew more details about the case.

“Garcia checked into the victim’s computer histories and found that all four victims attended a horror convention in the Washington state area over the course of the past month. The convention in particular runs every other weekend, focusing on different horror films to highlight. However, they always make an exception for one film; The Nightmare Before Christmas. Whilst reviewing receipts for the tickets, they were all brought through the convention’s website, which is run by its board of organisation every year. Up until recently, the board has held the same members.”

Derek tapped on his tablet to the convention’s website.

“Last month, the website released details stating that a distinguish member was no longer part of the board due to unforeseen circumstances.”

It suddenly dawned on Y/N who Derek was talking about.

“Dean Faulkner.”

Spencer whipped around towards Y/N.

All eyes laid on her as her breath increased.

“You know him?”

Y/N nodded at Hotch.

“I guest spoke at a panel with him a few years back at a separate university. We were both there, amongst others, to talk about the works of a genre that are expertise were in. I was there to basically provide loose ends for what they could not answer. Dean’s specialised area was horror. The whole time he spoke about what he described as the true villains of horror and of the world.”

Y/N gulped, her mouth going dry.

“Women.”

The wheels began to turn in the team’s heads.

Spencer stepped closer towards Y/N in assurance, seeing that her thoughts were becoming overwhelmed. He quickly stepped back after he realised what he had done.

“He went on a raging tangent about the damsel in distress and the final girl. Going on and on and on about how women are weak and would never be the last one standing if faced against the monsters in real life. How they manipulated the men and made the monsters seem worse than they truly were. The only time he spoke positively about women was when we finally calmed him down and, during a Q&A session, a student asked him who the perfect horror movie character was. He said Sally because she was forgiving and would do anything for Jack; even if that meant falling apart and being sewn back together. I tried to justify that the film does not necessarily fall into the genre of horror. But he rebutted saying that it most definitely did, because of the fact that Jack’s dream did not come true.”

The room was silent for a second, taking in the information.

Suddenly, Y/N grasped the pen from Spencer’s hands. Her finger scribbling across the whiteboard.

“I need to know the names of the victims. Get Penelope on the phone and tell me the names.”

The team shocked at her erratic movements, sat in silence.

“Do you want to capture this guy?”

Spencer licked his lips and repeated the victim’s names.

“Susanna Cole, Alice Dawes, Liberty May, and Lily Trent.”

Y/N swiftly wrote the names on the boards. Each name below the other. Underneath the last name she wrote the letter Y.

“Can you ask Penelope to track any females with the first name beginning with Y who have purchased a ticket to the next convention?”

Derek quickly began to type to her. The rest of the team looking on in disbelief.

“There were twenty-three purchases, but with cross referencing with the similarities in the other victims, one matched. Her name is Yasmine Driver.”

Y/N wrote the name on the board. Circling all the first letters of each name, it became clear there was another connection with the victims.

“Their initials spell Sally.”

Y/N nodded at JJ’s disbelief.

“Reid, when is the next convention being held?”

Spencer diverted his attention to Emily.

“Their schedule every two weeks, so that would make it… tomorrow.”

The team swiftly moved into action.

“JJ bring together the police force for a debrief. Derek and Rossi, go to the convention centre and question the board about Dean. Ask them how often he visited and if they have any knowledge of the victims visits to the convention. Spencer and Emily, contact Penelope for Faulkner’s address. Once you have visited the home, if he is there, bring him in. We’re going to try and catch him before he gets close to his goal. I will locate Yasmine and bring her to the station for safety. We don’t know how far he is going to go and what the end goal of his fantasy is. But we are going to stop him.”

The team swiftly did as they were told, leaving the room with only Spencer and Y/N behind. Just before the door shot, Hotch leaned back in.

“Thank you, Dr Y/L/N, for all your help. If possible, could you stay here with JJ and look through the documents? You know this guy more than we do, so any more information that comes to mind, please let us know.”

Y/N and Spencer watched as Hotch left the room, the door shutting behind him.

As the silence engulfed them, Y/N and Spencer were hyper aware that they were now alone and had been for the first time in weeks.

Spencer swiftly walked towards Y/N and embraced her in a tight hold. Wrapping her arms around the slender man, Y/N breathed in his scent.

“I’ve missed you.”

Y/N chuckled at Spencer’s muffled words, as his head rested on top of her own. Pulling back, Y/N slowly released Spencer, letting her hands drop to her sides.

“I’ve missed you too Doc. We can catch up later, I will be waiting right here. Now, go and save the girl.”

Spencer chuckled at her words but did as Y/N said. Throwing her a smile, Spencer quickly walked out the room, leaving Y/N behind.

Y/N sat in the room, looking over the files as the time passed, waiting to see Spencer return with the rest of the team. A knock on the door startled her from her search.

Looking up at the door, Y/N saw JJ walk into the room with two cups of coffee in her hands. JJ outstretched the one hand, placing the cup in front of Y/N, as she took a seat and began to sip at her own.

“I didn’t know how many sugars you took so I estimated.”

Y/N smiled at the woman’s kindness.

“Thank you. Have you heard anything from the others?”

JJ sat up in her seat as she watched Y/N look over the documents. Her fingers moving across the pages ever so quickly. Her hand that wasn’t tapped continuously on the table in a rhythm.

“Spencer and Emily located Faulkner’s home, but it was vacant. They’re looking around the premises for clues for where he may be; as we speak. Hotch and Derek just called saying they are on their way down with Yasmine now.”

Y/N nodded at her words. Glad to hear that the girl was safe, but the main priority now would be to locate Faulkner. She wanted to truly help them, before anyone else could get hurt.

JJ grabbed her tablet and began to search through the files for any missed out information. Silence befell across the pair, until JJ could not help but ask what they had all been dying to know.

“How did you and Spencer meet?”

Y/N had been waiting for the question. She had seen the looks the team had shared throughout the day. The questioning gazes towards the pair.

“Spencer and I were both guests speaking at the University of California a few months ago. He must have finished his lecture early as he was wondering the halls when he came across the class I was teaching. I was stood on the desk, encouraging the students to do the same. Spencer thought I was a student causing trouble whilst the professor had left the room. He ran in sprouting facts about the percentage of people who fall and severely hurt themselves whilst standing on tables. Telling me that I should get down before he reports me to my professor.”

JJ chuckled at Y/N’s story.

“Sounds like Spence alright.”

Y/N giggled in agreement. As she spoke, Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the memory of their first encounter. JJ noticed the smile on the woman’s face. She knew what that smile meant.

“So, I told him that he better stay there to catch me, just in case I fell, as I was trying to teach my students about the importance of character actions, and how doing something as simple as standing on a desk can amplify the tone of the scene. Like in the film Dead Poet’s Society. Spencer finally realised that I was also a guest speaker and he actually stood there for the next 40 minutes of my lecture. I didn’t need to stand on the desk that long, but I wanted to see if he would stay. Once the lecture had finished, he apologised for jumping to conclusions. I apologised for making him wait for 40 minutes in case I fell. He told me I didn’t make him wait; he chose to. We’ve been in contact ever since.”

Just as Y/N finished her story, the door to the conference room opened once more. Looking towards the door, Y/N watched as Hotch entered, followed by Yasmine. The young woman looked scared, but unharmed.

Y/N stood from her seat, unsure of what to do as Hotch insisted for Yasmine to take a seat.

“Do you want me to leave?”

Hotch nodded his head.

“We shouldn’t be long. The rest of the team are outside in the bullpen. You can go ahead and join them. JJ and I will take it from here.”

Y/N nodded her head, leaving the room. She watched as Hotch and JJ questioned spoke to Yasmine through the glass, before she turned and walked down the corridor to find Spencer and his friends.

Turning the corner, Y/N failed to stop herself before bumping into a tall figure. Looking up to apologise, her eyes suddenly widened at the familiar face. Before a sound could leave her lips, a blunt force knocked her out cold.

Spencer and the team discussed where Faulkner could be when Hotch strode into the bull pen.

“How did it go?”

Hotch walked towards his team, ready to answer Derek’s question.

“It seems that Faulkner had been stalking the victims for some time. Yasmine detailed seeing him turn up at the conventions, even though he was no longer allowed. She had previously complained about his behaviour to the board before his dismissal. Stating that Faulkner had sexually harassed her. Rossi, did anyone at the convention mention anything about Faulkner that we don’t know?”

“It seems that Yasmine wasn’t the only one. The other board members went into detail about why he was fired. It turned out that all of our victims, including Yasmine, had filed lawsuits against Faulkner for sexual harassment. The charges were ultimately dropped and never recorded to keep the convention’s reputation clear. But they fired Faulkner and banned him from being able to attend any further conventions. Taking away the Nightmare Before Christmas dedicated stand was just a coincidence. They felt that the convention needed something new as they had been celebrating the film for over eight years.”

Just as Hotch was about to declare what the next step would be in finding Faulkner, JJ burst through the ball pen.

“Guys, you have to come quick.”

The team, in shock, watched as JJ ran back towards the conference room. All quickly on her heels. Entering the room, she took control of the laptop, streaming the image to the projector.

Spencer could no longer breathe as he looked at the image on the screen.

“Y/N.”

The screen showed Y/N tied to a chair and bent forward; clearly in pain. Her surroundings empty and dark.

Suddenly a voice was heard.

“I sense there's something in the wind. That seems like tragedy's at hand isn’t there Dr Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

The team watched in horror as Dean Faulkner yanked Y/N’s head back, her body letting out a strangled cry at the pain caused by his actions.

Spencer felt sick, he felt like he was watching himself when Tobias Hankel had held him captive.

“Emily, call Garcia to track his location. We don’t have much time.”

Emily did as Hotch told her to. Talking as quickly as she could on the phone.

“She can’t track it; he’s re-routing the IP address every thirty seconds.”

“She needs to track it. She needs to find her now!”

They all jumped at Spencer’s outburst, watching as tears filled his vision and his hands began to shake.

“Spencer, you need to calm down, we are going to find her. He can’t have taken her far.”

Spencer took in Derek’s words. Taking a breath, he looked back at the screen as he tried to distinguish any recognisable features of where she may be.

Faulkner moved his face to rest against Y/N’s hair, smelling the tresses. She tried to pull away only for him to yank her back again.

“Why did you kill them Dean?”

Faulkner let go of Y/N’s hair. Walking to her side, he grabbed her face in a vicious grip. Yanking her to look at him.

“Why? They ruined my life, everything I ever worked hard for. You all did.”

Y/N looked at him in confusion.

“I did nothing to you.”

Y/N’s breath increased at the vicious look he sent her way. Her eyes flickered to the camera, knowing that Faulkner was streaming what was happening to Spencer and his team. She had to find a way to tell them where she was.

“You made them question my authority. My position. My integrity as a member of the board. You ruined my reputation by belittling me in California.”.

“That’s because you know nothing about horror Dean. You think you know everything about it, but you don’t.”

Spencer couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Why was Y/N taunting him?

“Garcia’s looking to see if there’s any abandoned properties around the area that he could have taken her to.”

Spencer didn’t even acknowledge Emily’s words.

Faulkner reeled back at Y/N’s taunt.

“I know everything there is to know about horror. I’ve seen it all. I’ve lived it. I’ve created it. Ask me anything about it, I know the right answers.”

“But you don’t. You have an idea of horror, your own idea, that is wrong. You believe that women are the reason you lost your job and became the monster that you are. But they’re not. The reason you’re a monster is because of your sick and twisted fantasies. You made those girls feel small and weak, didn’t you?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

The team watched in apprehension.

“Garcia, the location, we need it now.”

Rossi looked between the screen and the phone in Derek’s hand.

“I can get the area he’s holding her, but not the specific building. The whole town is basically abandoned. She could be anywhere from a shop to a house.”

“Keep looking.”

Spencer chewed on his lips. He had to think rationally. If the unsub was upset about the changes and losing his job, what could have been the last straw?

“Derek what was the film they replaced Nightmare Before Christmas with at the convention.”

Derek and Spencer shared a look.

“Cabin in the Woods.”

Spencer ran across the rooms to the files at hand.

“In the location that Garcia has tracked her too, there are three cabins, all within a walking distance of the other.”

The team began to rush out the room, transferring the livestream to a tablet so they could monitor Faulkner and Y/N.

“You’re weak Dean. You’re just like all the horror movie villains. Ghostface, pinhead, jigsaw, all of them. You feed of fear and feeling in control. But the only thing you have in common with them is that you’re not going to win.”

Faulkner scream in rage. Pulling Y/N’s head back, he punched her in the jaw. Striding to the camera, he pushed his face to the lens.

“The party’s over!”

Spencer watched in horror as the feed went off.

“Hotch we have to hurry!”

Hotch sped up the car. Quickly arriving to the location, the team split up into pairs, taking a cabin each to inspect. Hotch and Derek, Rossi and JJ, and Spencer and Emily veered off to their targeted locations. Spencer followed Emily, trying to stay calm, as he slowly walked into the cabin to find it empty, when suddenly a gun shot was heard. Looking in the direction, the pair ran to the cabin that Derek and Hotch had been assigned. The rest of the team already there, looking into the cabin in shock.

“No, no, no, no. Y/N.”

Spencer pushed in front of them, tears pooling in his eyes as he a waited to see the horror before him. He looked in disbelief as Y/N stood from her position on the floor, the gun dropping from her hand as they shook. Faulkner laid a few feet away, in a pool of blood, no longer breathing.

Y/N looked towards the team. Raising her shaking hands towards Spencer.

“I didn’t want to kill him but he was going to shoot whoever walked through the door.”

Spencer rushed forward, grabbing her in a bone crushing hug. His hands stroking her hair as he soother her cries. Leading her out of the cabin, he allowed his team to sort out the rest as he continued to calm Y/N down.

The movement of the team were a blur as ambulances and police cars came. Taking them to the hospital as they sat in the waiting room as Y/N was checked over.

Spencer sat in the waiting room, his leg bouncing up and down with nerves.

Derek excused himself from the groups conversation as he went and sat next to Spencer. Clapping him on the back, Derek squeezed Spencer’s shoulder in re-assurance.

“She’s going to be fine pretty boy.”

“Physically, she has a concussion, bruising along her jawline, and needs stitches on her forehead. Mentally, I don’t know how she is going to handle this. When I suggested asking for her help in the case, I didn’t presume the risk of her being hurt. I should have.”

“Spencer, listen to me. We would have done everything to make sure she lived okay. She not only saved herself but she also helped save Yasmine and this team. Any one of us could have been shot if she had not thought fast and got the gun out of his hands. You know, better than anyone, how to help her deal with this.”

Spencer took in Derek’s words, nodding his head in appreciation, as he leaned against his friend in a comforting hug.

“Probably wasn’t the ideal way to introduce your girlfriend to the team though.”

Spencer stuttered at Derek’s teasing.

“We’re profilers Spencer. We’ve all noticed how you’ve been happier these past few months and seeing how persistent you were for us to consult Y/N, it gave us all an idea why. Seeing you together only confirmed our suspicions. So, how long has pretty boy had his pretty girl?”

Spencer chuckled at Derek’s words. Ringing his hands together as he spoke to Derek.

“Tomorrow is actually our six-month anniversary. She was going to be flying back today so we could celebrate; unless I got called on a case.”

“We can still celebrate.”

Spencer looked up as Y/N walked through the waiting room, fresh stitches on her forehead and an ice pack resting in her hands.

“The nurse said that there was no internal damage. That my body will just be sore for a few weeks. My concussion is light, so I am alright to travel home.”

The team gathered around to check on her. But her eyes could not leave Spencer’s as he rose from his seat. Spencer walked forward slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. Carefully he cupped her face in his hands, and to the surprise of Y/N and his team, Spencer bowed his head and placed a careful kiss on Y/N’s lips. Slow, protective, and full of love.

Pulling back, Spencer wrapped his arms around her as he looked at the beaming smiles of his teammates. Y/N couldn’t help the blush across her cheeks or the giggle that followed. Soon, everyone was chuckling at the pair.

“I would like to thank you Y/N. From the entire team. Your actions saved a young woman’s life, and what could have been one of our own.”

Y/N smiled in appreciation at Rossi’s words.

“You’re Spencer’s family. I would do it all again if I had to.”

“Statistically speaking, around 2,000 people a day are reported missing in the US. Approximately, 600 of those would be reported or considered kidnappings. It is highly unlikely for you to be put in a situation like that again.”

Y/N looked up at her boyfriend.

“I never thought I would say this, but your talk about me being kidnapped again is really attractive.”

The team laughed at the girl’s statement, seeing Spencer become physically embarrassed.

“Just to inform everyone, the jet will be ready to depart in forty-five minutes. As I was informed that today you would have been heading home, Y/N we have sent for your belongings to be collected; you can fly back with us.”

Spencer smiled at Hotch in gratitude, the older man knowing he would have only worried if she had flown home alone.

“Thank you, Mr Hotchner.”

Hotch let out a brief smile.

“Call me Hotch. Your part of Spencer’s life, that means your part of this family.”

BAU JET

It had been an exhausting few days for the team, and it showed, as they all were sporadically asleep throughout the jet. Silence encompassed the steel capsule, with only the sound of sleep filled breaths being heard.

Y/N laid fast asleep, with her head on Spencer’s shoulder, as the boy genius sat up wide awake. Looking down at the woman next to him, all Spencer could imagine was what could have happened if they weren’t quick enough. How many days he would have lost with her. All the things he wanted to tell her.

As though she could sense his deep thoughts, Y/N slowly awoke, rubbing her eyes as a yawn escaped her mouth. Blinking her eyes rapidly, she waited till she was fully conscious before she spoke.

“What time is it Doc?”

Spencer jostled out of his thoughts to check the watch on his wrist.

“It’s 2:36 am. You’ve been asleep for approximately 3 hours and 22 minutes.”

Y/N quickly sat up in her seat, wide awake.

Spencer turned towards her in worry, wondering what had made her so alert.

“What wrong? Are you feeling nauseous? Do you need some painkillers, as your due to have…”

Y/N grabbed Spencer’s face and placed her lips flush against his own. Their mouths moved in unison, as Spencer’s own hands moved to circle around her waist, bringing their bodies as close as they could be in the small space they had. They hadn’t kissed since the hospital, and before then it had been weeks. Spencer never realised until then, how much he truly missed her touch, her taste, her as a whole.

Coming to a point where they both lacked breathe, the pair pulled apart. Their eyes fluttering open as Y/N’s hands caressed Spencer’s face. Her one hand travelled to his hair, feeling the tresses that had grown since she had last seen him. She looked at him in a way no one had before. Spencer shared the same expression.

“Happy six-month anniversary Spencer. I love you.”

Spencer looked at Y/N in disbelief.

“Before you start spouting of facts about transference and how I am probably only saying this because you saved my life, you’re wrong. Because then I would be telling Hotch and Morgan the same thing.”

Spencer couldn’t help the watery smile that graced his face. For the second time in the past day, his eyes filled with tears. But this time, they were good.

“I’ve known I have loved you for a long time. For five months actually. I knew I loved you when we made pizza in your apartment and we ended up burning it, so we ordered one instead.”

Spencer laughed at the memory. It was the first time Spencer had initiated their make out. He had watched her cooking, in his apartment, and he had never found her more attractive than he did seeing her in his home.

“I knew that whilst you were spouting of facts about the invention of the pizza that I loved you and that I could listen to you forever. I love you Spencer.”

Spencer pulled Y/N closer to him as he rested his forehead against her own. The pair basked in each other’s presence.

“Past surveys show that men wait just 88 days to say those three little words to their partner for the first time, and 39 percent say them within the first month. Women, on the other hand, take an average 134 days. You knew after 31 days that you loved me. I knew after our first date that the way I felt when I was with you is a feeling that I could not even describe with my vast vocabulary. I knew after 8 days that the way I felt was stronger than liking you and that was a frightening thought. But its scarier to think what could have happened to you yesterday. That I could have lost you without you ever knowing. I made that mistake before. I will never make it again. I love you too.”

Y/N couldn’t help the smile and giggle that overtook her. Spencer, feeling high of the serotonin that was coursing through his body, couldn’t help his laugh either. Soon the pair were a giggling mess, unaware of the team who had all begun to awaken whilst the pair were talking.

The team congregated to the back of the jet, allowing the couple to stay in their own bubble.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve seen him truly happy.”

The group nodded at Emily’s words.

JJ smiled as she watched her best friend rattle of the possible movies that he and his girlfriend could spend their anniversary watching as she recovered. Her smile growing even wider at Y/N’s enthusiasm to watch the film’s in their original language. None of them could miss the look of adoration beaming between the pair.

“Yeah, it really has.”

Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage. -Lao Tzu

A/N- It isn’t the best but I really enjoyed writing this one.

[littlelioncub43]

I noticed you said you were ready to take your subby puppy’s for a ride and all I can think about is shoving three of my fingers down dennis’s throat and telling him how he is just my goodest boy

Oh how I love Dennis 🥰 (and you for sending this ask 🥴)

He will be harder than a fucking rock. He would be such a mess, his head immediately cotton candy and clouds, not a single thought other than making you feel good and feeling good is in his head. The way you coo at him and kiss his face while your fingers fill his mouth is everything he's dreamed of. And the noises he makes? Broken whimpers, happy sighs, delighted moans, pleased growls all vibrating around your three fingers while his tongue laps at them.

Now, if you're palming him through his pants/boxers? Instant orgasm. Or damn near instant. Filling his boxers with his load with a pathetic moan and a full body shiver. But fear not, he give him a minute to breathe then he'll get down on his knees and worship your cunt till the sun comes up.

[callalillywrites]

I got the chance to see The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare (and then bought a physical copy because I loved it).

When this scene came on, Marjorie's just so damn gorgeous in that green Cleopatra dress. She lit something within my muse.

I couldn't help thinking about how my Alphas would react to their readers if they came out sporting this dress.

Let's explore, shall we?

These are all set in my It Takes All Packs to Make It Work verse.

Alpha!Jake (and Beta!Steve) would absolutely be tackling Angel if she came out of their room with this as her Halloween costume. Her every wish is their command at this point. She may or may not get the chance to show it or the matching costumes (Caesar & Marc Antony) she got for her guys that night.

Alpha!Bucky would probably drop to his knees at the sight of Precious in this dress. It's not her usual style as she prefers something a bit less revealing yet feminine. Something more like this Goddess costume that she wore their first Halloween together. He'll definitely be possessive and protective all night long.

Not yet here but are coming soon...

Alpha!Frank will know his reader is up to something as she's always looking for ways to keep him on his toes (and make him fall even harder for her).

Alpha!Curtis, our smitten kitten, will absolutely adore his reader in this. It's not because she's not drop dead gorgeous in his eyes because she absolutely is. It's because he's so damn proud of her and how she's coming out of her shell after the rough times she's had with her last alpha. (She's sadly going to have it worse than Bucky's Precious.)

Alpha!Ari will be glaring at everyone who dares look at his reader. He made a promise to an old friend, and he's not about to break it by letting anything happen to her.

Alpha!Colin would be glued to his reader the whole night and trying to show her how much he can and is willing to change his playboy habits.

Alpha!Dennis Baker would just be proud to be on the arm of such a beautiful reader whose attention is on him and him alone.

Alpha!Sam Wilson would be flirting like crazy even though he's long since claimed his beautiful Omega.

And we can't forget our precious Betas...

Beta!Ransom & Beta!Nick are happy to show off their gorgeous Alpha as she's absolutely stunning in their eyes. Sure, Ransom might be harboring some (read: a lot) of jealousy as others try to claim her attention from them, but Nick's had a lot of practice with this and soothes Ransom, assuring him of their Alpha's love and devotion to them.

Not in the universe, but I've been craving an Alpha!Steve of my own.

So, for him, he would be a mixture, I think, of several alphas above. Proud to have his reader on his arm, absolutely glaring at others who dare look at his reader, and just all around flirting with her, especially after they've been together a little while and have long since established their bond.

[thezombieprostitute]

Highly recommend @ellethespaceunicorn's take on Dennis and his subsequent glow up!

Ransom doesn't look frowny or sad. That's Dennis in his hot girl fase. he knows what looks good now. He's got glasses because he doesn't like lenses and it makes him look smart.

This is Dennis after he met me.

You want him now. Can't blame you./

@georgiapeach30513 is always denying her love for certain men like Dennis and Syd. She does it to throw off people so they don't go for them.

She's a sneaky one, you and I know it! How she proclaims Andy is the only one, yet has a attic full of other men. Things don't add up. Maybe she's bad at math, maybe she has lose morals🤷🏻‍♀️

I gathered proof:

This is Dennis, she's clearly into him

[imyourbratzdoll]

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓:

 ♡ 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇 ➳ 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕 ❥ 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 ❦ 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌

೫˚🖤❀ *ૢ🥀೫˚🌑

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐜𝐤 ❥♡

summary - dennis has been feeling sexually frustrated after his divorce (not like he was getting anything whilst married anyway), but he decided to try out a new place that he overheard his colleagues talking about.

೫˚🖤❀ *ૢ🥀೫˚🌑

[roguerecs]

𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐌 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: 𝐑𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄'𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐒.

last updated: august 2022

𝑬𝒙𝒉𝒊𝒃𝒊𝒕: 𝑹𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆'𝒔 𝑹𝒆𝒄𝒔

- Look at those signs! Let’s go read them!

Welcome to my reading/fic recs archive! This is basically a blog to keep all my readings/fic recs organized instead of having to dig through my main for a fic. Feel free to send any of your own fics/fic recs! 

Everything here will mainly be one-shots, drabbles, and completed series I’ve read. Check my main for writer recs + their masterlists, current series I’m reading, upcoming series I plan to read, and more!

Before interacting with a work, please remember to: Look and respect the author’s rules/guidelines! Carefully read all tagged warnings and author notes before proceeding. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

As majority of fics I recommend are 18+ plus, minors DNI!!! You will be blocked so please leave while you’re ahead! Blank blogs (no posts and default pfp) and blogs with no age indicators will be assumed to be minors and be blocked as well.

Below the cut is links to all the tags I currently have, and this list will be updated as I get more tags! 

𝑻𝒚𝒑𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒌:

one-shot. ┊ drabble. ┊ series.

ㅤ

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆:

angst.┊ fluff. ┊smut. dark. ┊  soft!dark.

ㅤ

𝑺𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒇𝒊𝒄 𝑭𝒊𝒄 / 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔:

reader fics. ┊ original character (oc) fics.

! PSA: for specific reader/fic tags, i tag according to what the author tags.  

tba.

ㅤ

to find fics with specific tags and character, use this format:  [NAME] x [SPECIFIC TAG] example: ari levinson x female reader

ㅤ

𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝑬𝒗𝒂𝒏𝒔 & 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔: 

chris evans. ┊ ari levinson. andy barber. ┊ colin shea. curtis everett. ┊ dennis baker. frank adler. ┊ jake jensen. johnny storm. ┊ lloyd hansen. mr. freezy. ┊ ransom drysdale. steve rogers.

ㅤ

𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒗𝒆𝒍:

bucky barnes. peter parker (tasm!peter & mcu!peter). natasha romanoff. ┊ sam wilson. stucky. ┊ wanda maximoff. xu shang-chi.

ㅤ

𝑨𝑼𝒔: 

a/b/o. ┊ baker. best friend’s dad. ┊ biker. cam. ┊ ceo. ┊ college. cowboy. ┊ dad’s best friend. dilf/milf. ┊ frat. ┊ hybrid. lumberjack. ┊ mafia. ┊ medieval. mythology. ┊ royal. single parent. ┊ supernatural.

ㅤ

𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔 (𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒔 𝒊𝒅𝒌?): 

...with benefits. exes to lovers. friends to lovers. friends/lovers to enemies/exes. fake dating. ┊ forced proximity. neighbors. ┊ only one bed. roommates. ┊ sex pollen.

ㅤ

𝑶𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔:

tom holland. crossover. ┊ comfort fics. all time faves.

ㅤ

[fashiontrendin-blog]

Here’s what happened when the GLAMOUR style squad designed their very own Fiat 500 Collezione

http://fashion-trendin.com/heres-what-happened-when-the-glamour-style-squad-designed-their-very-own-fiat-500-collezione/

Here’s what happened when the GLAMOUR style squad designed their very own Fiat 500 Collezione

Thought customising cars was solely reserved for Xzibit in Pimp My Ride on MTV circa 2006? Think again!

GLAMOUR UK was given the opportunity of a lifetime – to customise our very own Fiat 500 Collezione in all its millennial pink glory.

With 500,000 ways to personalise at launch, almost every Fiat 500 on the road was unique. People weren’t buying it to get from A to B, but as an outward expression of their individuality and style. So, it was a dream come true for GLAMOUR UK when we were granted the opportunity to style our very own version.

Forever a favourite amongst the style-conscious, our team couldn’t wait to get their hands on the Fiat 500 Collezione and give it the GLAMOUR touch. Watch the video to see what happened.

So who made up the GLAMOUR style squad?

Portia Ferrari, one of GLAMOUR’s favourite influencers, was on the roster. Not only does she have makeup artist, model AND presenter firmly on her CV, this stylish influencer is also the star of our ‘FastGLAMOUR’ beauty series, meaning she lives and breathes our brand.

Dennis Lye, GLAMOUR’s Creative Lead, also joins our style squad. It’s Dennis’s creative vision that has shaped GLAMOUR’s flawless aesthetic. He knows exactly how to reflect the GLAMOUR girl in everything he does with an artistic eye that is second to none – so we knew he’d give our car the kickass makeover we dreamt of.

The third member of the GLAMOUR style squad entrusted with giving the car the GLAMOUR touch was Ashlee Hill, our resident stylist who is responsible for styling our popular ‘Insta Style’ series. Ashlee is a confident, passionate girl boss who knows just how to make women feel confident inside and out. So why not try out her aesthetic expertise on a car?

For 60 years, the Fiat 500 has been the ultimate life accessory for those with an eye for style. Why? The car’s design takes its cues from fashion and pop culture, comes in 15 fashion-forward colours and boasts interior patterns inspired by the catwalk. As our BTS video attests, the GLAM Squad couldn’t wait to transform this car into the very best kind of accessory.

Ashlee tells the team to start thinking about shapes and colours of the car, noting: “It’s a really fun and cool car” and describing it as “the ultimate accessory”.

Our trio headed to the inspiration corner, where they perused a mix of polaroids, archive imagery and car designs while thinking long and hard about GLAMOUR’s unique personality and how to define the individual style of the magazine.

They explored the heritage and visual identities, pinning image and magazine page references onto the board to create a working mood board, where Dennis explains: “The GLAMOUR reader is really fun and adventurous”, with Portia adding: “The Fiat 500 owner wants to turn heads.”

The team then begin thinking about motifs to appear on the side of the car, with Dennis championing an illustrator called Agustina, saying: “I just like how she depicts women; I feel like we need some of this on the car.” The team agree and head over to the styling zone to start accessorising the car.

“We need to come up with a look that’s quite classic and colourful with a modern twist. A little bit smarter and a little bit chic.”

Urban Ear headphones, a Pampelone dress, Victoria Beckham sunglasses and Jimmy Choo heels are, of course, an essential part of the overall look.

Taking a look at the final car, in our humble opinion, we think it’s endlessly chic, on-trend and entirely reflective of the GLAMOUR brand.

The best part? You could win, we repeat *win*, the GLAMOUR car and all the fabulous goodies inside. Featuring beauty and fashion staples from Topshop, Herschel, UGG, Lipstick Queen, Coco & Eva and so many more, this really isn’t a prize any GLAMOUR woman wants to miss out on. All you have to do is enter the Lady Garden Lottery – and every last penny will go to an amazing cause.

Lady Garden is a campaign run by a group of British women on a mission to change the future of female cancers. Why? Because right now these cancers are nicknamed the silent killers. There are many reasons for this but a massive one is – YOU.

Yes, you! And your best friend, your sister, mum and auntie – you’re all too embarrassed to talk about your bodies.

The charity’s recent research revealed that over a third of women are too embarrassed to go to the doctor with gynaecological concerns – let alone talk to a friend.

We think it’s time to change that. Don’t you?

Get involved by buying a Lady Garden Lottery ticket, helping a good cause and being in with the chance of winning this epic car and everything inside. It’s very tempting, isn’t it?

Well, what are you waiting for? To enter the Lady Garden Lottery, and for full terms and conditions including the full list of prizes, click here.

With thanks to the following brands for kindly donating… Delfina, Deletrez, Alex Monroe, Solange, Clean Reserve, Bed Head, Orly, Gibson Girl, Jimmy Choo, San Pellegrino, Topshop, Monki, Sienna X, Lord & Berry, Too Faced, Victoria Beckham, Diego Dalla Palma, Ming Ray, River Island, Nudestix, Superga, Mi-Pac, Philips, Fujifilm, Urban Ears, Jax Coconut Water, Coco & Eva, IGK, House of Hackney, Herschel, Filorga Laboratories, JK7, Monreal London, Ugg, Taylor Morris, Pampelone, Sand & Sky, Kate Somerville, Azurina, PetsPyjamas, Bondi Sands, Bimba Y Lola, Ted Baker, Eve Lom, Mark Hill, Huawei, Zoeva, Starskin, Lipstick Queen, Baobab Collection & The Organic Pharmacy

Lady Garden Campaign is a registered charity no: 1154755 and promoter of this Charity Lottery.