#do you think dave loves her y/n

[cherrylight]

hi. im going to show her sprite. because i think its cute. although its not set-in-stone yet just a concept for now

also !! all credit goes to this lovely dollsim :)

shes so cute GUYS LOOK AT HER!! SHES SO CUTE WAHHH

[cheriladycl01]

Fan Zone Fanatic - Lando Norris x Anxiety! Reader

Plot: You love taking the F1 bracelets off of fans because you will play with them whenever you get anxious and they are a source of comfort for you now.

(I literally do this with my bracelets lmao)

One thing you absolutely adored was fan interaction. As much as you got really anxious in large crowds with overstimulating sounds and smells, you loved helping give gifts to Lando and guide him to younger fans with caps pushed to the back and hold his own hand for comfort when he too got overwhelmed from the amount of people yelling his name.

Right now you were at the gates to the paddock and you were walking through hand in hand with Lando. When you saw a load of fans at the entrance.

“Lando! Lando”

“Come sign my helmet please”

“Lando I have something for you”

“Y/N”

Loads of voices came at one, you smile at Lando and nod your head over to the fans starting to drag him over to the fencing.

“Omg Y/N” one cries handing you a pretty generic McLaren hat, you take it to pass to Lando until she shakes her head.

“I want you to sign it! I’ve already got Landos” she smiles and you laugh, loving that people wanted your signature too.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to ruin it!” You smile kindly at her and she nods again. You sign it and then she pulls a clip of the friendship bracelets out.

“Please take one” she smiles and beofre you know it, you have loads of girls gifting you friendship bracelets off their bags.

Before you know it, you have all sorts of bracelets covering your arms.

There was mainly Lando and McLaren ones, but a few Chili or Enjoy the butterfly’s ones snuck their way onto your wrist that when you were showing Lando all of them once you got into the paddock he was laughing so hard.

“I think my fans love you more than they love me if I’m being honest, they’re always so sweet and respectful to you” he smiles as he shifts through the bracelets before he finds one with your name on it that he takes off your own wrists and places it on his own. “This one im keeping” he comments.

“I think I might head to the fanzone today, deck myself out in McLaren merch and just see what happens” you grin and he looks at you with a furrowed brow.

“Are you sure baby? I don’t think that’s a great idea, you’ve never experienced the fans without a barrier or anything …” he offers and you nod your head knowing what your getting yourself into.

“I know but I want to interact and I’m kind of obsessed with these bracelets now and I kind of want more of them!” You nod having made up your mind fully with a small smile matching it.

“Okay baby, but just keep one of the security with you. Just so they can help you out if needed. You don’t have to walk with them but just keep them close yeah? Take Dave, you like Dave right?” Lando says immediately concerned about you.

“I’ll take Dave just for you’re own piece of mind” you tease lightly nudging him before you take his team hat and grab one of his spare team tops.

“How do i look” you say with a twirl before ending with a hand in your hip.

“Beautiful” Lando mutters with heart eyes as he looks over at you.

Lando if he was being honest, never had it so good. You were literally perfect in his eyes. You treated him so well, and there wasn’t a singular moment he didn’t feel lucky to experience the weird and wonderful phenomena we call life.

“Stop it, you’re making me blush” you comment and he just laughs before kissing your cheek and sending you off.

“Don’t be gone too long okay! And check in with me! Please?” He asks.

“Ooooo wait can I buy some hats and get you to sign them please?!? I can hand them out in exchange for bracelets” you grin and before you know it you’ve got Lando signing as many hats as you could possibly fit in one bag.

He ended up signing 60 hats in the span of 20 minutes which is pretty impressive, considering he has to break to make out with you for 5 of those. Lando was an exceptionally clingy boyfriend.

Eventually you leave waving goodbye to him and smiling.

You walk out of the paddock entrance and around to the main gate. Where you’ve got the sunglasses and baseball cap on, it’s kind of hard to notice who you actually are so you were pretty confident that you could walk through pretty happily.

You noticed Dave, not too close and not too far. You walked into the fan zone seeing all the stools and shops with merch from different teams and the smell of the greasy hot dogs and chips.

You were just walking looking through one of the McLaren stands and about to pick up a Lando Norris t-shirt when a small tap was felt on your thigh. You turn round seeing a little girl, maybe 6 or 7.

“Hiya” you smile and the mum asks if you want to trade bracelets. You nod happily and show her your arms of the ones you had and she sees the LN4 one with his helmet design.

“Oh that’s a good one, Landos helmet” you grin and smile at her kindly taking it off your own wrist and putting it around hers.

“Woah you have so many” you laugh lightly seeing up to her elbows covered in them.

“Take two if you would like” the mum smiles and you nod.

“Why don’t you choose one for me, and then I’ll choose another one?” You ask the young girl and she nods excitedly looking over her arms before picking out a Max one.

“Max huh” you grin taking the MaxV33 off her and pulling it around your own wrist.

“I think I’ll take this one too, my goal today is to get one of every driver” you smile and she grins seeing you take the Zhou Guanyu one.

“I also have something I want to give you from Lando” you grin and she looks excited.

You pull out the signed hat and she squeals, looking over the signature.

“Thank you thank you thank you!” She grins and pulls you into a hug. You laugh back and go to offer the mum one, but she politely shakes her head.

“Keep them for the youngsters” she smiles and you nod. The little girl finally lets go and hands the old hat back to her mum before putting the new signed on.

“Awww look at that! You look so cool!” You exclaim and the girl giggles more.

You say goodbye and get back to shopping. You end up buying an overpriced Lando top despite you wearing official staff uniform as of right now and thank the very shocked worker who asks for you picture once you’ve payed. You offer her a hat but refuses as she got one earlier before her shift from the paddock entrance.

You head into the heart of the fanzone where the sims are and all the other interactive stuff they put on for the fans. You can hear music from the massive stage, which is slowly starting to fill up.

20 minutes until Ferrari on stage.

1 hour till McLaren on stage. You knew you were going to go there for the McLaren one.

“Y/N?” You hear from you far left and see 3 girls with two guys behind them.

You smile happily jog over to them.

“Hey!” You grin and one of the girls squeals.

“Do you want some of our bracelets we brought way to many!” The girls admit showing you their bags full of the beaded bracelets.

“How long did this take you guys! These are incredible” you smile looking at all the different colours and types and the fact some had crystals on them. And all the funny messages rather than drivers names.

“Oh it’s nothing, just something we like to do in our free time!” One of the girls nods.

“They’re lying it took them days to prepare these for the race” one of the guys admits and you nod knowing that was far more accurate.

“How many can I take?” You ask looking at them, it was strange because even though these girls looked in their teens and younger than you they were all a lot taller than you. Making you feel kind of strange looking upwards at almost all of them.

“As many as you want” you start to look through. You burst out laughing at one that says Muppet 1 and Muppet 2 in one of the girls bags.

“Can i take both and give one to Lando so we’re matching” and she nods enthusiastically at the thought of Lando himself having one of her bracelets.

“Omg yes! Please please! Do you erm speak to any of the other drivers?” She asks and you nod, you were close with loads of the drivers. Especially their girlfriend as you were a social floater, sometimes you went out shopping with Alexandra, Charles girlfriend. Or going for brunch with Carmen, golfing with Lily or out to dinner with Oscar and his Lily.

“I do, why do you want me to give something?” You ask politely and she nods handing you a T-shirt. You open it up to see a funny print of George Russell T-Posing.

“I’ll make sure when I get back to the paddock to give this to George” you smile and she thanks you profusely.

You got to the next girls bag and find a Yuki Tsunoda One, and a Lando one that was of his Miami win. It had a little palm tree dangly on it and you knew you just had to take it.

And in the last one you picked out a Charles Leclerc and Ferrari one.

“This may seem rude but I don’t want to trade to many bracelets off, I want to keep as many as possible but I have other gifts” you smile and pull 5 signed caps out the bag handing one to each of them.

“They’re signed by Lando” you smile and they all looked shocked and one almost starts to tear up.

“Can I hug you?” One of them asks before you nod and pull her into a hug. You get a group photo before they run off all having really happy faces.

This is why you were so happy to do this, just seeing that smile on random peoples faces knowing you’d made them feel like that was so rewarding.

You walk to the sim racers and see loads of people on them, trying to get in good laps. You were utterly hopeless on Landos at home so there was no way you were trying it here and making a fool out of yourself.

“Girlie! You want a bracelet!” A voice from behind you says and you turn to look.

A girl comes running up to you, showing the clip of beads in front of you.

The afternoon continued like that. You took bracelets and gave people hats in exchange for them. You were thankful nobody had posted the pictures you’d taken with them yet, so it still didn’t feel like you were having people actively come try and find you.

You make your way to the stage seeing it’s pretty empty now that Ferrari have gone and you stand right by the fence where Lando will be able to see you. There’s two guys in McLaren hats next to you, one in a Lando one and one in a Danny Ric one.

“Damn that’s some fossil merch” you joke and they turn to look at you seeing you’re get up. They laugh and nod explaining how they live McLaren but Danny is their driver.

“Who do you support?” One of them asks before his mate bursts out laughing.

“Dude that Lando’s girlfriend” the other one with the DR3 McLaren hat laughs. And you laugh with him before the guys fully takes a look over you and flushes Red.

“I’m so so sorry” he says.

“It’s fine, but of course my driver is Yuki Tsunoda” you tease and they both laugh. You have a nice conversation with them, you’d get Lando to sign their hats when he was on stage.

The guys were really nice, just asking you questions about the paddock on racing and how long you’d followed the sport and it was nice just talking.

However the more people started to fill up the more you got anxious. Unconsciously your hand started to fiddle with the bracelets, lightly snapping them against your skin or pushing the beads from one place to another. The feeling giving you a certain kind of comfort to stimulate you enough that it was a distraction from all the noise around you.

All of a sudden the music gets louder beofre Naomi Schiff comes out to introduce the drivers to the now packed in crowd.

“Hello, how are we all feeling out there? Little warm today isn’t it. We’ll all of you keep hydrated nearest water station is up to your right” she indicates.

“Now without further or do, let’s find your drivers. Here for McLaren, Oscar Piastri and LANDO NORRIS” she calls and both the papaya boys come jogging out onto the stage.

“Hello Lando, Hello Oscar, how are you guys today?” She asks and both of them nod.

“Yeah really good, it’s pretty warm but we’re excited to be here” Lando says and Oscar nods in agreement.

“Yes, I think I’ve drunk 3 big bottles of water and two cans of monster” Oscar jokes and everyone in the crowd laughs.

“Enjoy the summer break?” She asks and they both nod.

“Yeah I got to spend lots of time with my girlfriend in England, and we …” Oscar starts but is interrupted by Lando.

“Oooo girlfriend, your girlfriend” Lando teases making Oscar go bright red in embarrassment.

“Says you, you wouldn’t shut up about Y/N” Oscar pushes back making Lando just laugh. The boys beside you starts whopping and cheering your name trying to point you out and draw attention to the fact your here.

People start to catch on and help to point you out, making you duck your head down in embarrassment as you laugh.

“Oh look Lando we’ve got some fans calling your name over here, oh wait. Is that … Lando is that Y/N” she says holding her que cards above her head to stop the glare of the sun to her eyes so she can get s better look at you.

You smile and wave being very familiar with the woman.

“Oh you’re right, give it up for Landos girlfriend everyone” Naomi cheers and you blush.

“Hi baby” Lando smiles shyly waving at you making you wave back.

“Wait did you chance tops?” He laughs seeing you now in the Lando Norris official team t-shirt. You nod and he just laughs shaking his head.

Before you know it he’s jumped down and is coming over to you. He pulls you into a hug, before signing some stuff around you and going back up to where Oscar is.

“Well, what did you do over the summer. You and Y/N were very present online” she adds knowing you always loved to post online what you and Lando did as it served as memories to share with a wider community.

Also a lot of what you posted have the fans a fix of their delulu needs which you were always happy to do.

“We want to Boa Vista and then we saw Martin Garrix a good friend play in Ibiza, we saw some of the other drivers there too. Went to a Taylor Swift concert, went to Bali and now we’re back here and racing” he grins and you smile at the thought of the summer holidays with Lando.

“Awww well sounds like you had a lovely time and you’re nice and relaxed ready to get racing again. How does it feel knowing how close you are to a championship with Max?” She asks and he nods.

“Looking for a good result this weekend but with my lucky charm here I’m hoping for a win” he nods and after some more questions posed to Oscar and Lando people start to leave the minute they are off the stage.

You keep a hold on one of the bracelets going behind the stage to where Lando is waiting for you. Dave helps you get past the majority of the crowd who some ask for pictures with you and more bracelets are given to you.

You round the corner into the VIP second and a Lando immediately comes up to you wrapping you in a hug.

“That was nice seeing you it there, but I was terrified the whole time with how cramped in you all looked” he admits as he kisses your temple.

“Look how many bracelets I got! Oooo look I have one for you too, a matching one with me” you grin and hand him the muppet number 1 and show him your muppet number 2.

“These are brilliant. I’m happy you enjoyed yourself.” He smiles and walks you over to the car to take you to the paddock.

Going forward you actually wore those bracelets given to you all the time. You and Lando wore the muppet ones everyday but you would change up which ones you’d wear on your other wrist each day but you always made sure you had one especially when you knew it was going to be an anxiety filled day.

The fans would never know how much these bracelets meant to you but you were so thankful.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[bweeeb]

HARD DICK...or three

Summary: Draco, Theo and Mattheo have always been Y/n's best friends, but when she realizes that the reason her relationships don't last long are them, the conversation takes a funny turn involving three boys with hard cocks.

Warnings: English is not my first language, a lot of intimacy between the boys and the reader.

---

There were people who were lucky in their careers, financial life, academics, and even love life. You were a lucky person but hated to admit that the hardest part for you was always your unluckiest part. Boyfriends were never easy for you, and staying stable with them was even harder. You never considered if the reason none of them lasted or were worthwhile was your fault—your poor choices, or the lack of character in all three serious relationships you had over the past few years. You never questioned it until last night. Dave Franco was your boyfriend for a year and a half, and last night he had a jealous outburst in the middle of a Hufflepuff party. You swore you heard him repeat the same words more than three times, “shitty friends,” “are you sure you didn’t have a threesome?” “They want to fuck you!” You were drunk and getting upset with his words until you realized that maybe your friends were much more intimidating to your boyfriends or flings than you had noticed. So you concluded that no, you were not the problem; they were…

— Alright, Our sleeping beauty has already missed the first classes.

Theodore's voice spread through the silent room along with the rustling of the comforter beside you as he occupied the space next to you.

— If you miss lunch, Snape will punish you until next year.

Mattheo said, pulling the blanket off your body, exposing your figure dressed only in navy blue lingerie that hugged your curves.

— And that means if you want to graduate this year, you better get out of this room.

Draco said, casting his eyes over you as you groaned into your pillow and shook your head in denial.

— Fuck off.

You whimpered, feeling your body shiver from the cold due to the lack of a blanket. Normally, you wouldn't be so exposed in front of your male friends, but Dave had broken up with you, so you didn't care at all if the three saw your butt, breasts, or whatever—it wasn't anything more than they had grown up seeing.

— What the hell happened to you? You didn’t even drink that much last night.

Theo said, and immediately you turned to look at him with a pout on your lips.

— Dave, he broke up with me.

You muttered, sitting up quickly.

— And it's your fault, so one of you owes me some affection.

As soon as you said that, your legs wrapped around Nott's waist, who smiled mischievously at Malfoy and Riddle, who were standing at the foot of the bed, watching you almost naked, snuggling into Theodore’s lap. It wasn’t a secret that you were obviously the dream of the three boys, and the fact that you grew up together gave them enough freedom to act like that among themselves.

— What do you mean?

Theodore asked, wrapping his arms around you.

— Yeah, he broke up with you because we’re your friends? Was he afraid of getting punched if he broke your heart or what?

Mattheo mocked Dave, and Draco laughed beside him and continued:

— Man, I think he's gay; there's no way he broke up with you because of us.

— No, he thinks we fucked or something. I don't know how many times I heard the word threesome or that you guys wanted to fuck me last night. Man, it was like torture.

You groaned, getting off Nott's lap and out of the bed, walking towards the mirror. You looked at yourself and sighed, rolling your eyes.

— The guy broke up with you because he thinks we want to fuck you?

Theodore laughed, and you gave him the middle finger while fixing your hair.

— Honestly, he's more insecure than my grandfather. Merlin, how did you stand him?

Draco laughed as Mattheo approached you and hugged you from behind, wrapping his arms around you and resting his head on your shoulder.

— Oh yeah, Draco’s grandfather probably fucks his grandmother more than that loser Dave fucked you. Am I wrong?

Mattheo said with a mischievous smile directed at you through the mirror's reflection, causing you to laugh and shake your head.

— Ew, I don't want to think about Malfoy's grandparents having sex.

Theodore grunted, getting out of bed.

— Yeah, whatever, but the point here is that you all can hug her, and I can't? Get your claws off her, Riddle.

Draco grumbled, unhappy with your position, receiving an irritating smile from Mattheo, who let you go and allowed you to go to Draco with a gentle smile.

— Ah, he's a baby, guys.

You said, and Draco glared at you with a scowl.

— Shut up…

Draco grumbled, pulling you by the waist and throwing you on the bed with him on top.

— I’ll put a baby in you if you keep that up.

— See, that’s why my relationships don’t last.

You said, throwing your head back and pushing Draco off you to fall beside you on the bed.

— Nah, this is bullshit because we don’t do this with you when you’re dating.

Theodore said, sitting next to where your head was lying, as did Mattheo on the opposite side.

— I don’t know; maybe I’m just a terrible girlfriend and act the wrong way.

You murmured, frustrated, turning onto your stomach to hide your face in a pillow.

— Y/n, princess, stop blaming yourself for the idiot’s idiotic choice.

Draco shrugged while leaning his back against the bed's headboard and throwing another pillow at your now exposed butt.

— You hardly even come near us when you’re dating. I can’t remember the last time I hugged you besides today.

Mattheo made a mocking expression, thinking David was making false accusations about you.

— You are the most loyal person in Hogwarts, and everyone knows it. If your boyfriends are all insecure enough not to handle being with you because of us, it’s simple—they don’t deserve you, dolcezza.

— Really?

You asked, and as confirmation, you received three murmurs of agreement. Propping your elbows on the mattress, your gaze changed to a curious look that was noticed by Nott and Riddle.

— Hmm, do you guys want to?

You asked another question, and this time the boys’ faces on your bed were genuinely confused.

— What?

Mattheo questioned your question, and you laughed, laying your head on Theo’s lap, who had lit a cigarette. With a look, Nott understood; he brought the cigarette to you, and with a wild smile, he answered Mattheo and asked you.

— Fuck you?

— Uh-huh.

You agreed, hearing Draco laugh while accepting the cigarette from Theo.

— Everyone wants to fuck you, princess.

— Right, but I’m not talking about everyone; I’m talking about you guys.

You said impatiently, sitting on your heels to look at the three on your bed, staring at you without saying a word.

— Come on, I’m curious.

— You don’t understand, do you?

Mattheo, with his dark eyes and a sly smile, leaned closer to your neck.

— Don’t understand what?

— You can’t ask if we’d fuck you when you’re dressed like that, darling.

Mattheo murmured, and you heard Theo and Draco’s nasal laughter as they moved on the bed.

— Okay, so that would be a yes?

You asked.

— Hell yeah.

Theo agreed, bringing the cigarette back to his plump lips and then to yours.

Your smile grew with each passing minute of silence in the room. The three of them were eyeing you as if you were gold, and you couldn’t measure how much that amused you.

— What?

You asked, feigning innocence as if you hadn’t seen the bulges growing in the pants of the three there.

— Alright, I’ll get changed so we can meet Pansy and Daphne. Wait for me a second.

With that, you got up from the bed and heard a groan from Draco.

— Seriously? I’m hard as fuck, damn it.

Malfoy groaned again, and the four of you laughed.

— You’re evil.

Theo sighed, and you turned to look at them with a pained face.

— I think my dick is going to break, it’s so hard right now.

Mattheo said, throwing himself on the bed before looking at you at the bathroom door with a huge smile.

— Why are you looking at me like that? I didn’t do anything.

You said innocently, and Mattheo snorted.

— How am I supposed to continue the day like this?

— I don’t know, jerk off together, think of Malfoy's grandparents fucking.

You laughed again, and their scowls grew bigger.

— I swear you’ll pay for this, dolcezza.

Was the last thing you heard besides groans before you left to change for afternoon classes.

---

I hope you enjoy this

And if you want to read some dirty shit here:

[asterias-record-shop]

╭════• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •═══╮

— fuck his brains out

╰════• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •═══╯

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hell yeah I would.”

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

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

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

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

"She won't."

"What if she recognizes your voice?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“M-My whole life.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I promise."

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

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

Oh, you knew it would work.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

© asterias-record-shop

[guiltyasdave]

no one has to know what we do

chapter 2 • series masterlist

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

summary: Try as you might, Dave and you can’t stay away from each other.

word count: 4.4k

tags/warnings: explicit smut -> 18+ mdni, dbf!Dave, unhealthy relationship dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, angst, daddy issues (reader’s dad sucks), able-bodied reader, reader has hair that Dave pulls, no use of y/n, divorced Dave, unprotected p in v, fingering, rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink, spanking, sooooo many pussy slaps (don’t look at us), pet names, let me know if anything is missing!

a/n: co-written with my love @joelscurls, who unfortunately couldn’t write this entire chapter the way we had originally planned, so you’re stuck with me again. if you notice that some parts are better written than others, those are most likely hers haha <3 this is lowkey my favorite thing that i’ve ever put out, and i hope you like it as much as i do 🤍

follow @joelscurlsupdates and @guiltyasdavenotifs for updates and find jess’s masterlist here and my masterlist here :)

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

The phone feels like a paperweight in your hand. It’s late — you should be sleeping, but you know it’s useless to even attempt shutting your eyes. It’s too loud in your head right now — that promise of just one time blaring: a warning. Still, you can’t help but consider ignoring it, texting David and begging to see him again.

It’s probably a bit pathetic, yearning for a man who made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you beyond a one night stand. Daydreaming about the timbre of his voice, the stretch of his cock. Getting his phone number from your father, who’s none the wiser. Your father, who is asleep in his own room just down the hall. Being home for the summer has never felt like such a burden.

Guilt eats at you as your fingers hover over the screen, David’s contact front and center. It would be so easy to send him a text right now, let him know you’re thinking about him. About the other night. But your conscience reins you in. Your father’s face flashes behind your eyes — rage and disappointment painting his features scarlet, and you drop the phone beside you on the mattress with a huff.

It’s difficult to even imagine the inevitable severity of his reaction if he ever found out. He’d probably cut you off, the revelation of you whoring around with his friend — and the possibility of this news getting out, tarnishing your family’s pure reputation — more than enough for him to disown you.

You hate him sometimes. Hate the life he’s forced onto you. You’re not even interested in studying law — not really. You never had a choice, though. It was determined before you even graduated high school that you’d follow in your dad’s footsteps. And as long as he’s funding your studies, your future, you have no right to complain. This is the life you should want. The life everyone wants. He reminds you of that fact regularly. Him, and his countless snooty club buddies.

But David — David is refreshing.

He doesn’t come from old money. He doesn’t pinch your cheeks and talk around you rather than to you, declarations of you must be so proud aimed at your father as you stand awkwardly to the side. You’re pretty sure he’s the first person outside of your professors to really look at you, take interest in anything you have to say in… god knows how long.

You can still feel his eyes boring into you. The subtle but tactful brush of his leg against yours under the table. The exhilaration that had thrummed in your veins. He’d made you feel something. You’d almost forgotten you could feel anything apart from stress and agitation. And as you lay in bed, mind swimming with arousal and impending remorse, you fear you may not be able to control yourself much longer, consequences be damned.

He’s not expecting you to reach out.

Why would you? You’d mutually agreed on that night in his car being a one time thing — just a hookup; something he would’ve done before meeting Carol. Something he should probably be doing more often now. Except you’ve somehow sunk your teeth in him, injected him with a sort of venom.

Because all he can think about is seeing you again.

It’s wrong — beyond wrong. You’re so young; still in college, for christ sake. He never met you before the other night, but he’d been stationed overseas with your father when your mother was pregnant with you. He still remembers reading the letters she’d sent in care packages over his shoulder, the ones detailing her symptoms, what foods she was craving.

Strawberries. She always wanted strawberries. Maybe that’s why you’re so sweet.

He’s never been with a woman like you; never had someone trust him with so much vigor. Your needy little pleas, your vehement obedience, your desperation to take all of him in the driver’s seat of his car — you are nothing short of intoxicating.

Still, he tells himself you’re off limits. Trudges through the days that follow with the thought of you bouncing in his lap fogging his head. Struggles to focus at work and recovers in an increasingly poor manner when called on in meetings.

And then, late on a Friday night, you text him.

He only knows it’s you because you tell him so — your full name flashing across the screen followed by an apology for messaging him so late. You say you’re out with friends, and he’d probably have guessed anyway by the typos littering your sentences.

Seconds after the first, another text comes through:

[1:23am] csnt stop thinking about u. pls see me again i promise i won’t twll anyone

Fuck. Fuck.

His muscles tense; his cock twitches in his boxers. And before he does something stupid, like responds, he sets the phone face down on his bedside table. Stalks off to the bathroom with the intention of taking an icy-cold shower, detoxing himself best he can.

He hasn’t even closed the door yet when he hears it ring.

The rhythmic jingle drones through his studio apartment, and he all but leaps at the noise. Sure enough, it's you, calling him drunk in the middle of the night.

His head swims. He presses ‘answer’ anyway.

“David?” Your voice sounds so sugary-sweet, cloying with innocence. He can hear people in the background, maybe your friends, talking about getting another round of drinks.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” he asks first. You tell him yes; say you're waiting on a rideshare.

He exhales. And even though hearing you is making him dizzy with a fucked up sort of desire, echoes of your pleasured sounds ringing in his ears, he manages to maintain composure when you say, “can I please come over?”

“Don't think that's the best idea,” he mutters. The lack of conviction in his words would likely be painfully obvious if you weren't intoxicated. But you are, and you whine through the receiver at his rejection.

Dave fights to ignore the increasing stiffness in his boxers.

“Please,” you beg. Fuck, he loves the way you sound when you beg. “I just got off the phone with my dad…he doesn't want me coming home so drunk; said he's working on a case and I’ll be a nuisance.”

His heart breaks for you. For the girl who just wants a father who loves her, who sees her as a person with feelings. Dave can't imagine ever treating his daughters this way. Would never dream of it.

“C-can I?” your voice sounds through the speaker again — softer, less sure. Like you've prepared yourself already for the blow of him rejecting you too.

“Can't– can’t you stay with one of your friends?”

You sigh, defeated. “I want to stay with you.”

It’s not that he doesn’t want to. God, it would be so easy to say yes. To go and pick you up from the bar himself, bring you back to his place. Help you sober up a bit and fuck you until you can't take it anymore. But he can’t; he shouldn't even be speaking to you right now. He needs to cut this off. Needs to make it clear to you that you can't reach out to him again.

“You– we can’t.” He’s stern, direct. It pains him. “The other night shouldn’t have happened.” True, though he doesn’t regret it. Not one bit.

You’re quiet on the other end of the line for a second too long. When you finally do speak again, your voice breaks.

“You don’t like me?”

He’s going to tell you that of course that’s not it, that he’s been thinking about you constantly, that he wishes he could get you out of his fucking head. But he doesn’t get the chance. Because your friends are laughing boisterously around you, then, sounds growing more and more muffled through the speaker, and you’re telling him rather unceremoniously that you have to go.

The call disconnects with a beep.

You wake the following morning with a dizzying headache, daylight burning a hole between your eyes. With your friend still soundly asleep, you slip out of her room and then her apartment; find yourself home just as your father is getting ready to leave for work.

His travel mug sits on the entrance table as he pulls his shoes on, and you're immediately met with the smells of coffee and his leathery cologne.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” he mutters as he grabs his briefcase. You don't dare look him in the eyes, lest you be met with their disapproving stare.

“Hi,” you reply, small and non confrontational. When he doesn't answer, you continue past him, begin your ascent up the stairs toward your room.

“Not very appropriate for a young professional, going out and getting wasted. Your future employer could've been there. Could've seen you acting like an imbecile.”

Annoyance furls behind your temples; makes the pounding in your head grow tenfold.

“Well then they probably won't be my future employer,” you snip.

“Probably not.”

You hear the front door close behind you and, with an agitated sigh, drag your feet the rest of the way up the stairs. You fall onto the covers of your bed, well aware that you should probably shower, but your body feels too heavy, in no way ready to move again just yet.

When you pull out your phone, ready for some mindless scrolling to numb your thoughts for a while, you’re met with a notification that sends your heart racing.

Have fun last night?

From David, sent five minutes ago.

You hastily scroll up, reading your own texts from last night, full of typos and barely coherent. csnt stop thinking about u. Your head falls back with a groan. You had gone out to forget about him, not to drunkenly confess your feelings to him in the middle of the night.

Now that you’re thinking about it, you also vaguely recall speaking to him. You tap on your call log and sure enough, there’s his name, only minutes after you texted him. You have no idea what you might have said to him, only a blurry memory of being upset about something. Great, this is great.

Sighing deeply, you go back to messages.

i was very drunk. sorry for bothering you

His reply comes almost instantly.

Who said you bothered me?

You’ve only met him once, and yet you can picture his smirk as if you’ve seen it a thousand times.

Dave is sipping his coffee, black, no sugar, and listens to Jim going over his plans for the both of them going golfing next weekend, humming occasionally.

It pains him, looking at the man in front of him, while your voice from last night is still ringing through his head. How hurt you sounded, looking for a place to stay, not being welcome in your own home.

When Jim stands up to leave for work, he remains seated, gesturing towards his half eaten bagel, but assuring the other man that he doesn’t have to wait for him.

You still haven’t left his thoughts. If anything, the longing he feels for you has gotten worse since you told him how much you want to see him again. And he’s so tired of denying himself the one thing he really wants.

He’s patient, chipping away at the bagel until he sees your father’s gray Dodge peel out of the parking lot. And then he gives it another 10 minutes, just to be safe.

Come join me for coffee? I’m downtown at Roasted Beans.

You respond moments later — such an obedient little thing, you are — letting him know you’ll be there shortly. He finishes off his drink, discards the cup along with the bagel wrapper, and orders two fresh coffees.

He sees you before you see him. Eyes wide, lips parted ever so slightly, you look so cute as you scan the cafe. You’re wearing a sundress, the blue fabric dancing around your thighs with every turn of your body, and Dave finds himself entranced by you.

You smile when you finally catch sight of him, your entire face lighting up and he smiles back without a second thought.

You shouldn’t meet him again. You really, really shouldn’t. But the conversation with your father this morning keeps replaying in your head, the disapproval weighing heavy on you, the feeling of being unable to do anything right.

You long for someone to look at you without judgment, for the sound of good girl against your skin. You long for David.

After last night and the fact that he obviously didn’t invite you over, you had thought that for him, maybe it really had been a just one time thing. Like you both had agreed on multiple times.

But then he’d texted you again, asking you to meet him. It’s almost embarrassing, how quickly you got ready, eager to see him again, despite knowing better.

On the drive over, you run through countless discussions in your head, trying to decide what you’re going to say to him. You have to be reasonable. There’s too much at stake. David is a mistake that you wouldn’t be able to come back from. You’re just going to meet him because he asked you to, because that’s the nice thing to do. It’ll just be coffee, nothing more.

Your resolve crumbles as soon as you see him. His eyes are already on you, their expression so full of want that it makes you ache. You walk over, feigning confidence as you slide onto the chair next to his, a quiet greeting on your lips. The deep, smooth sound of his voice when he returns it is enough to make you melt.

He has already ordered for you. It’s a small thing, rationally, but it’s once again more care, more attention than you’re used to. Warmth is spreading through your chest, but you try steeling yourself, forcing out the words that you’ve prepared to say.

“Listen, I want to apologize about last night. I shouldn’t have– I wasn’t thinking straight, I’m sorry for bothering–”

“Hey, sweetheart.” He interrupts your nervous stuttering, his hand gently wrapping around yours on the table. “I already told you that you didn’t bother me. If anything–” He sighs, his grip tightening. “I’m the one who’s sorry, you were looking for somewhere to stay, I shouldn’t have turned you down like that.”

It breaks Dave’s heart, seeing how you’re making yourself smaller, how ready you seem for him to scold you. Your quiet You don’t like me? still echoes in his mind. How your own father didn’t care where his daughter spent the night, as long as she didn’t come home. Didn’t bother him.

He clocked the way your eyes widened in surprise at the coffee that he got you, how you huff a relieved breath when he assures you again that he’s not annoyed with you. You’re so sweet, so deserving of being loved and cared for, and he so desperately wants to be the person who does that for you.

He felt the same pull from that night towards you as soon as he laid eyes on you again, and it’s only gotten worse, now that you’re right next to him, now that he’s touching the soft surface of your hand. He vividly remembers how your skin felt under his fingertips, how you writhed against him.

The urge to get just a taste of that again becomes overwhelming. He holds your gaze as his fingers start gliding over your thighs under the table, inching towards the hem of your dress. Your lips part, the softest whimper escaping your throat at his touch.

He shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t be touching you like this, shouldn’t be thinking about you like this. Can’t stop thinking about you. I want to stay with you. How is he supposed to keep away, to stop himself, when you come to him so willingly, so desperate to be wanted?

“David?” Fuck, he loves that you call him that. “Will you take me home with you? Please?”

He can tell that you’re scared to ask, bracing yourself to be rejected again. He’s not nearly as strong as you think he is.

“Yes. Come on.”

He pulls you to your feet and out of the door before either of you have the chance to change your minds.

He’s a bad man, shouldn’t be getting off on having total control over you like this. He’s probably sick; should see that shrink Carol recommended a couple months ago after the divorce was officially finalized. But the way you’re looking at him — with the same big-eyed, doleful stare you’d given him that first night — tells him you want this. Need this, even. You long to relinquish control to someone other than your hawkish father.

So pliant in his lap, limbs all gooey and relaxed under his touch, it’s clear that you trust him. Maybe more than he trusts himself.

You’re spread out on his couch, clothes hastily discarded as soon as the both of you stumbled over the threshold, already entangled in each other. He’s led you to the living room, the thought of fucking you in his bed, of your presence lingering there, your scent permeating his sheets, the last invisible line that he’s determined not to cross.

He has been toying with your body, collected your wrists in a hold over your head and told you to keep them there while he flicked and tugged on your nipples, sucked marks into your skin while you writhed underneath him.

He’s taking it slow, now that you’re here with him, now that he has the time to thoroughly break you down and put you back together again.

You’re already soaked when he sinks a finger into you, your tight walls clenching around him immediately. You coo up at him — a needy little noise that has his resolve disintegrating in seconds flat — and you look relieved when his hand loosely wraps around your throat.

“Please,” you whisper then, and he tuts.

“You want me to take care of you?”

You nod.

“Then you take what I give you. No begging. Do I make myself clear?”

Another noise — this one smaller, stuck in your throat — and he’s pulling his finger out of you again, lips curling into a cruel smile.

He doesn’t give you any time to prepare before the first slap lands on your already-throbbing clit. You can’t help but shriek. In response, he tightens the grip on your throat slightly. Gives three more stinging smacks in quick succession. Dave almost doesn’t notice when your eyes begin to roll back. He does notice, however, when your hips begin to roll upward, your body chasing his hand.

“Oh, such a good girl you are,” he praises.

Slap.

“You love this, don’t you?”

“Mhm,” you moan, garbled and a little breathless.

Slap.

“Pathetic little girl. Bet you could come just from this, you’re so desperate. Couldn’t you?”

You gasp.

Slap.

“Answer me,” Dave demands. “Or I’ll stop.”

It’s almost comical how quickly you sputter the word yes, eyes desperately pleading with him to keep going. And he’s almost shocked just how badly you needed this. In this moment, any guilt he’d been feeling is replaced with the desperate desire to give you exactly what you crave.

He slaps you again, a little harder this time, and you wail. Your legs are trembling, but you make no move to close them, keeping yourself spread wide open and accessible for him.

He’s throbbing, fighting the urge to sink his cock into your tight heat, but he wants, needs to know how far he can push you. How far you’ll go for him.

You’re dripping onto his cushions and he collects some of your slick with his fingers, rubs them against your clit. Your skin is burning under his fingertips. He teases the oversensitive nub with gentle touches, relishes in the way your eyes are glued to his face, the way your lips are trembling as you’re silently pleading with him.

No words are escaping you, and you’re so good, making him so proud with how you’re following his commands.

He slaps your clit again, and again, and again, until you’re a babbling mess, your throat constricting against his grip and your back arching as you come with a cry. Wetness floods out of you and you’re shuddering in his hold, broken whimpers of his name falling from your lips.

He watches with sick fascination, almost unable to believe that he drove you to this point. How much you enjoy being treated like this. That you’re just as twisted as he is.

When you come down, your arms weakly reach for him and he scoops you up, pulls you into his lap until your face is nuzzled into his neck.

“Good girl,” he coos, gently stroking your hair, “you did so good.”

He gives you a few moments to rest, tracing shapes across your back, until his fingers dip deeper, gliding over your ass and between your spread legs, where you’re still so fucking wet.

You squirm under his touch, needy little sounds traveling up to his ears once more. “Please,” you whisper.

One hand grabs into your hair, pulling your head back until he can see your face. You look wrecked. Pupils blown wide, your eyes wet with tears, but what really gets him is the way you look at him. He had worried, for a second, that he might have been too rough, but there’s only pure trust and longing in your eyes.

“I thought I told you no begging.”

You bite your lip, furrow your brow in that adorable way of yours. “I’m sorry. It just– it all feels so good.”

He presses his thumb down on your bottom lip, releasing it from your teeth.

“I know it does, sweetheart. You need more?”

You nod quietly, your eyes wide and pleading.

“Alright then.” He turns you over so quickly that you gasp, scrambling for a second to get your bearings. You’re on all fours, your legs still spread, your ass on display for him.

He had wanted to prepare you a little more, to give you several of his fingers first before he stretches you out on his cock, but he can’t possibly hold back any longer. Judging from the loud moan that you let out, he thinks that you like the sting of him sinking into you unprepared.

It’s even better than he remembers, your slick walls engulfing him so tightly. He starts pounding into you, the depth of his thrusts jolting your body forward and forcing more sounds from you.

He wants you to still feel him tomorrow, wants you to remember him, wants to stake a claim that he knows he doesn’t have. He groans your name, his fingers digging into your hips, greedy for every part of you that he can reach.

Perfect, you’re so fucking perfect, giving yourself to him like this.

“Come on,” he growls, reaching down to find your clit again, rubbing in tight circles. “Give me another one.”

You cry out, pushing back against him. So fucking eager. He lands two quick slaps on your ass and you fall apart, trembling wildly as your walls pulse around him and you scream out his name.

He can’t hold himself back any more and follows you over the edge, pumping into you once more and holding your hips pressed against his.

You both collapse down onto his couch, a mess of tangled, sweaty limbs and quick breaths. You curl your body into his and he presses kisses against your cheeks, your temples, your lips.

Slowly, as he’s coming back to his senses, the guilt settles in.

He lets go of you much too quickly, stands up and starts getting dressed quietly. You watch him for a moment, wracking your mind for something to say, before he looks at you.

“Get dressed. I’ll drive you home.”

He sounds cold, distant. So different from the man who just took you to heights that you didn’t know existed until now. You suppress a shiver and get up hastily. Suddenly, being naked around him feels much too exposed, too vulnerable for your liking.

You pull your dress over your head and slide your shoes back on, but one crucial item is missing.

“Did– did you see my underwear?” you force yourself to ask. He shakes his head, not gracing you with a verbal answer.

Eventually, you give up the search and follow him down the stairs and into his car. The silence grows, until its weight is pressing down, almost suffocating you. You steal glances at him, but his eyes are fixed on the road, staring straight ahead, never wavering. A muscle in his jaw is ticking.

The mix of his spend and yours is pooling between your legs, but it makes you feel dirty now. You force down the lump that’s building in your throat.

When he stops in front of your house, you scramble out of the car without a word. You don’t know what would be worse, if he said goodbye like nothing was wrong or if he remained silent. You don’t want to find out.

It’s late in the evening, you’re lying on your bed, eyelids squeezed shut, willing sleep to finally overtake you. Thoughts keep spiraling through your head, so many questions that you have no answers to.

He asked you to meet up, for fuck’s sake. You don’t understand why he’s treating you like this, but you’re determined to not let it happen again. Just two times, you think with a bitter scoff.

Your phone vibrates on your bedside table, indicating a new message.

[11:55pm] I can’t stop thinking about you either.

Attached is a photo. A photo of a familiar lacy scrap of fabric, grasped in his hand and covered in milky white cum.

It’s filthy, and wrong, and you feel yourself getting obscenely wet at the thought of him touching himself with your missing panties clutched between his fingers.

Maybe just one more time.

thank you for reading 🤍 if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending an ask, it truly makes my day every single time!

[finelinevogue]

life goes on

summary - just a tiny blurb of post tour engagement talk

a/n : this contains a very brief mention of cancer, so be aware of that xx

word count : ~1k

pairing : boyfriend!harry x reader

The sun was setting just down past the mountains.

It had been a busy day and everyone was exhausted. You had all gone on a couple of yachts out to sea to dolphin watch and then come back and swam in the sea onshore.

After the end of tour, Harry had invited all of his family out to spend a month together in his gorgeous Italian house in the countryside. It was perfect for everyone, because it had endless garden land, a hot tub and a large swimming pool. It was a great house for the kids.

Harry’s family’s children were hear, and could be currently heard running around the garden with Nerf guns Uncle Harry had bought them to play with.

Currently, everyone was sat outside on the large patio area. There were bean bags, L-shaped sofas and other various comfortable chairs for people to sit on and none were spare.

“H?” Gemma asked, “Where’s Y/N?”

“Toilet I think.” Harry answered.

“When are you and Y/N getting married then, H?” Harry’s uncle, Dave, asked.

Harry laughed in shock and a few people cheered to that idea.

A lot of people were nursing beers and a few others with various cocktails they’d made for themselves. You had helped Harry set up a help-yourself bar for everyone to make whatever they wanted.

Harry himself had a Corona in hand, with a lime in the top because apparently that’s the best way you take it.

“Oh, let them be!” Anne shushed her brother up. “They’re still in their honeymoon phase.”

Anne watched as her son got all shy, blushing as he thought about how in love he was with you. Anne smiled, knowing her boy would always be happy with you by his side.

“They’ve been in that phase for six years now. The poor girl will run if he doesn’t ask soon.” Dave piped up again.

“Y/N can ask me too, y’know.” Harry suggested, shrugging his shoulders.

“We all know you’re too romantic to let Y/N do that.” Someone else piped up, to which they all agreed.

“Heyy!” Harry protested, but deep down he knew they were right.

Harry had always wanted to get to ask you the big question. Being engaged and looking forward to his own wedding has been something he has looked forward to, ever since watching his first romcom.

Harry won’t settle for giving you anything less than the perfect proposal.

“I do want to be alive to see you get married, love.” Harry’s nan, Marge, chimed in, making everyone laugh.

“You will be, nan. I promise.” Harry held up his beer in promise to his nan. “And anyways, why aren’t you all nagging at Gem - whom is also still not married.”

Harry knew exactly why.

“Don’t believe in marriage, H.” Gem said. “Plus Michal says it’s too difficult choosing a ring.”

“That is true.” Michal nodded and agreed, making Gemma laugh and cuddle closer into his side on the sofa.

Harry looked at them and then towards the house, missing you after only two minutes. He wondered where you were.

“Have you gone ring shopping yet, H?” One of Harry’s aunts, Linda, asked.

“Yes.” Harry shot his head back around to face the conversation.

“Is it going to break the bank?” Dave asked.

“Nothing could dent that boys bank, Dave.” Linda laughed.

Harry smiled along, knowing the ring safely tucked away in his suitcase was just what you had asked for. It had been a reasonable price and it’s beauty outshone everything else.

“Y/N trusts me to pick out the right ring.”

“Good lad.” Dave nodded onto Harry.

“Excuse me a minute.”

Harry put his beer down on the floor and left his family to go in search of you.

He wandered into the house and because it was very open, he was able to tell you weren’t downstairs. He shouted your name up the stairs, but no one responded.

“Babe?” He called again, standing at the bottom of the stairs.

He was getting worried now and ran up the stairs two at a time. He wandered down the hall and straight into your shared bedroom.

No one was on the bed and no one was in the bathroom.

“Y/N?” Harry shouted again, a little more sternly this time. “Where the fuck is—”

He looked in and out of all bedrooms upstairs and the bathrooms too, but no sign of you.

As Harry rushed back down the stairs and opened the front door. He was ready to shout your name again when he saw you sitting the hammock by the front garden gate alone.

He closes the front door and furrowed his eyebrows as he walked quickly over to you.

“Baby? Where have you been?” He asked, dodging in between the cars as made his way to you.

You looked up at him and smiled, but it was one that did not reach your eyes.

Harry watched as you brought a small tissue up to your noses and wipe underneath. He put together, as he moved closer towards you, that you had been crying.

“Baby…” Harry said softly, coming down to crouch in front of you.

You swallowed a lump in the back of your throat and rolled your eyes at your own emotions. Harry was nothing but patient with you, waiting for you to gather up whatever thoughts you wanted to say.

Harry stayed crouched down in front of you, hands clasping yours to stop you from picking away at the skin by your nails - a nasty habit he was constantly telling you off for.

“It’s my mum. She’s back in hospital.” You sadly smiles, watching Harry’s face drop too.

Harry let out a tut and a heavy sigh, sagging his head in sadness.

“Cancer came back. She’s been in for a month and has only just told me.” Your words started to come out in splutters towards the end of your sentence as you began to cry again. “Fuck, m’sorry.”

Harry popped his head at your apology. “No, don’t you start apologising for things that don’t need an apology. Don’t care that this is celebrating post tour. All I care about is you and seeing that smile on your face. If you haven’t got a smile today, that’s okay but we’ll work together to put one back there again.”

You nodded your head in understanding.

Harry moved to sit next to you, laying you both down on the hammock. Harry sat so his feet still touched the floor, but you moved so your whole body was on the hammock and you could tuck yourself into his side. Harry rocked the two of you slowly and rubbed his hand up and down your back, whilst you closed your eyes and listened to the sound of Harry’s heartbeat.

“We can go see her when we’re back, can’t we?” You asked.

“Of course. Why do y’ask?”

“Just checking, in case you had music plans or anything.”

“Baby. You know I’m yours now for the foreseeable future.”

“I know.”

“We can go see her every day if you want.” Harry suggested, “And also. I don’t care what you say, I’m paying for any extra treatment and care to make sure she’s as comfortable as she can be.”

“Ha—”

“No I’m not arguing with you on this, love.”

“But…”

“Yeah, your butt is lovely, I know.” You could hear his smirk as he patted your ass lightly with his hand.

That put a little smile on your face anyways.

“Thank you.” You said softly.

“It’ll be your bank account someday soon too.”

And you smiled again, knowing the prospect of an engagement was soon approaching.

[luvhotchner]

omg hi!!! i love your social media AUs and so I wanted to submit a request! totally understand if you don’t wanna do it but yeah, so maybe like an instagram au where reader is posting about aaron being all sweet and taking her out to dinners and in general being all romantic and the bau is like since when?? they’re all surprised by how nice aaron is being! i’d love to see this thank u!!!!!!!

heart eyes - a. hotchner

summary: the soft launch of their relationship shocks the team.

warnings/pairings: hotch x BAU!gn!reader (but reader wears long nails), swearing, established relationship, just a lot of fluff tbh.

ahhhh thank you for the request!!! sorry it took so long but here it is and i hope you like it! ❤️

first instagram au! tell me what you think! fic under the cut!!

━ ★ ━

y/n.y/l/n

♡ liked by thedavidrossi, itgirl_emily, and 578 others.

y/n.y/l/n IM IN LOVE IM IN LOVE IM IN LOVE. NO ONE TALK TO ME IN IM LOVEEEEE.

👤 : aaronhotchner05

view all comments…

chocolatethunder SORRY WHAT.

↳ y/n.y/l/n 😋

itgirl_emily THIS ISNT EVEN A SOFT LAUNCH, THIS IS FUCKING CRAZY

↳ jjiscraycray WHAT THE FRICKEN FUCK IM SCREAMING

bbygirlgarcia i. knew. it. I FUCKING KNEW IT.

aaronhotchner05 i’m so in love with you ❤️

↳ y/n.y/l/n thank you for dinner and for keeping up with me and my shenanigans 😘

↳ aaronhotchner05 your “shenanigans” are what make me love you.

↳ chocolatethunder I BEG YOUR FINEST PARDON?!?! SINCE WHEN IS HOTCH NICE?!

thedavidrossi no wonder aaron is only nice to y/n.

↳ spencerwreid oh shut up he’s nice to you too

┉┉┉

aaronhotchner05

♡liked by y/n.y/l/n, chocolatethunder, and 136 others.

aaronhotchner05 y/n told me to post this because it’s “aesthetic”.

👤 : y/n.y/l/n

view all comments…

y/n.y/l/n no, i just like to look at your hands 🥰

↳ aaronhotchner05 ugh you’re awful.

↳ y/n.y/l/n shh you love me!!

↳ aaronhotchner05 yes, that i do.

itgirl_emily SINCE WHEN IS HOTCH LIKE SUPER KIND AND CARING?!

↳ y/n.y/l/n since always???

chocolatethunder WHAAAAAT?? FIRST THE DINNER AND NOW THIS LOVEY DOVEY SHIT?? WHAT IS MY LIFE??? i don’t believe my eyes.

↳ y/n.y/l/n well then believe it cause he is the best boyfriend EVER!! 💞💖💓💗💝💕

↳ spencerwreid my jaw is on the floor. the floor is unsanitary. i don’t like this situation at hand.

↳ itgirl_emily ur dramatic.

bbygirlgarcia i’m going insane. i’m going insane. IM GOING INSANE.

↳ aaronhotchner05 one psych eval coming your way.

↳ jjiscraycray SEE!! HES AN ASS TO ALL OF US. I AM GENUINELY IN SHOCK.

thedavidrossi i’m with the others when i say im shocked, but im really happy for you kids ❤️ take care of them, aaron!

↳ aaronhotchner05 i will, thanks dave.

↳ y/n.y/l/n you all could learn a lil something from papa rossi over here.

[whereforarthur]

I'll wear your name on my heart til I die

Request: Would you be up for writing any George Clarke fics about labour or birth???

Pairing: George Clarke x Reader

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 3k

*****

“Babies and Other Hazards of Sex: How to Make a Tiny Person in Only 9 Months, with Tools You Probably Have around the Home.” ― Dave Barry

In the bustling heart of London, George sat cross-legged on the floor of their cozy flat, surrounded by a clutter of untouched scripts and half-eaten sandwiches. The afternoon sun painted the room in a warm glow, but George barely noticed, his eyes glued to the computer screen as he edited his latest video. The click-clack of his keyboard was the only sound, a stark contrast to the chaotic pattern of the city outside.

Y/N, his girlfriend, waddled in, her hand resting on her burgeoning belly. She looked flushed and tired, a clear sign that the pregnancy was taking a toll on her. "Hey, Georgie," she called out, her voice weary yet hopeful. "How's it going?"

George swiveled around in his chair, his eyes widening at the sight of her. He took in her disheveled hair and the slight grimace on her face. "You okay, love?" He asked, setting aside his headphones and standing up.

"Just a bit… off," she replied, gently rubbing her lower back. "These Braxton Hicks are getting more frequent."

Concern etched his features as he rushed to her side. "Why don't you sit down?" He offered, guiding her to the plush couch. "You're sure it's just Braxton Hicks?"

Her nod was slow, but firm. "Yeah, the midwife said it's normal." Despite her assurance, her voice trembled slightly.

George's hand hovered over her stomach, feeling the tension beneath her skin. "Would you like some tea? Maybe a bath?" He suggested, trying to keep the worry out of his tone.

Y/N managed a smile. "Tea would be lovely, thank you."

As George disappeared into the kitchen, the silence grew heavier. The clinking of the teacup against the saucer echoed through the room, punctuating the quietude. Y/N leaned back into the couch, her eyes drifting to the pile of baby clothes neatly folded in the corner. The anticipation of motherhood was a mix of excitement and anxiety.

When George returned with a steaming cup of tea, the scent of chamomile filled the air. He knelt beside her, placing the cup on the coffee table with care. "Here, drink this," he said, his hand gentle on her shoulder. "It'll help you relax."

The warmth of the tea did offer a small comfort, and she took a tentative sip. "Thank you," she murmured.

He sat down next to her, his hand on her knee. "How can I help?"

"You're already doing enough," she said, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "But maybe a foot rub?"

With a chuckle, George began to massage her swollen feet. "Anything for you, darling," he said, his thumbs pressing into the arches with a gentle but firm pressure.

The tension in the room eased slightly as Y/N closed her eyes, her breathing becoming more even. The soft sound of George's voice and the rhythmic motion of his hands were soothing, a small bastion of peace amidst the storm of impending change.

But as the sun dipped lower, the contractions grew stronger. Y/N's breaths grew shallower, and her grip on George's hand tightened. Her eyes snapped open, and she looked at him with a newfound urgency. "George," she whispered, "I think it's time."

*****

The color drained from George's face, but he remained calm. "Okay, let's get you to the hospital." He helped her up, wrapping an arm around her waist.

The journey to the hospital was a blur of traffic lights and racing thoughts. George's grip on the steering wheel was white-knuckled, his eyes darting between the road and Y/N in the passenger seat. Each contraction brought a sharp gasp from her, and he felt a pang of helplessness.

As they pulled into the hospital parking lot, George's heart was racing. He knew that the next few hours would be life-changing, and all he could do was be there for her, to support and comfort her through the most incredible and terrifying experience of their lives.

Together, they walked through the sliding doors of the maternity ward, hand in hand, ready to welcome their little one into the world.

In the hospital room, Y/N lay on the bed, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as each contraction washed over her. The sterile scent of the room mixed with the faint aroma of antiseptic filled George's nostrils, making him feel both anxious and on edge. He held her hand, his thumb tracing circles on her palm, trying to be the source of comfort she needed. Her eyes, usually so bright and full of life, were now squeezed shut, the lines around her mouth tight with pain.

"Breathe, darling," he whispered, his voice a steady reminder of his presence. "In and out, in and out."

Her hand clenched around his, nails digging into his skin as she bore down through the contraction. He winced but didn't pull away, offering her his strength as the wave of pain crested and receded. The room was a cocoon of soft whispers and beeping machines, the only constant the rhythm of their breathing.

The midwife, a kind-faced woman with a gentle touch, checked Y/N's progress, her eyes encouraging. "You're doing so well," she said, her words a balm to Y/N's taut nerves. "Almost there."

Y/N's mum and George's sister hovered nearby, their eyes filled with a mix of excitement and empathy. They offered sips of water, wiped her forehead with a cool cloth, and whispered words of encouragement. Despite their own anxieties, they knew their roles in this sacred dance of birth, each step bringing their new family member closer.

George felt his own heart racing, matching the erratic beeps of the fetal monitor. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead, whispering words of love and support into her ear. He knew that every contraction brought her closer to holding their baby, and he was determined to be her rock through it all.

As the hours ticked by, the contractions grew more intense, and Y/N's cries grew louder. George's eyes never left hers, his gaze a silent promise that he would not let go, that he would be there every step of the way. His own breathing synced with hers, inhaling her pain and exhaling his strength, willing her to keep going.

The moment came, and with one final, mighty push, their baby was born. The room erupted into a symphony of cries—both from Y/N and the new life that had just entered the world. The midwife placed the squalling, red-faced baby into George's trembling arms, and he looked down at the tiny miracle with awe.

"It's a boy," she announced, and George's heart swelled with love and pride. He turned to Y/N, whose eyes were now filled with tears of joy. "You did it," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

*****

Their families rushed over, eager to meet the new addition. But for a brief, perfect moment, it was just the three of them—George, Y/N, and their son—the world outside fading away as they became a family. The pain of labor was replaced by the warmth of new life, the exhaustion giving way to pure, unadulterated joy.

Y/N's mother, her eyes glistening with tears, took a step back, allowing George and his sister to take their place beside the bed. The midwife handed the baby to George's sister, who cooed and whispered sweet nothings as she held him. Y/N's mother hovered, offering gentle strokes to her daughter's forehead and a proud smile that spoke volumes.

George looked up at the woman he loved, her face a map of pain and triumph. "You're amazing," he murmured, his voice hoarse from the hours of encouragement. She managed a weak smile, her eyes never leaving the baby.

The room grew louder as the midwife began to clean up, the baby's cries punctuating the air as George awkwardly changed the first diaper. His sister, a mother of two, offered a knowing smile and a few tips. "You're a natural," she said, and George felt a sense of pride swell in his chest.

Y/N's mother stepped forward, her hands outstretched. "Let me," she said, taking the baby with an ease that came from years of experience. "You two should rest."

George nodded, his eyes never leaving the baby's face. He knew the next few days would be a blur of feeding, crying, and sleepless nights, but right now, all that mattered was the warmth of Y/N's hand in his, the sound of their son's breathing, and the feeling of their new life together, forever entwined.

As the midwife finished up, George helped Y/N to sit up, cradling her as she held their son for the first time. The baby's tiny fingers curled around hers, and she gasped at the sensation. "Hi, little one," she whispered, her voice a soft, shaky melody.

The baby looked up at her with wide, curious eyes, and George felt his heart melt. He knew that this was just the beginning of a beautiful, messy, wonderful journey. And as he sat there, holding his family, he couldn't help but feel like the luckiest man in the world.

The door to the room opened, and the sound of soft footsteps approached. It was Y/N's mother, carrying a bouquet of flowers. "Congratulations," she said, her voice thick with emotion as she placed the flowers on the bedside table.

The room grew quiet again as George and Y/N stared at their son, their hearts full. "What shall we call him?" Y/N asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

George looked at her, then at the baby. "How about Archie?" He suggested, a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

Y/N's eyes lit up. "Archie," she repeated, testing the name on her tongue. "I like it."

And just like that, their son had a name. Archie Clarke. The first of many milestones in their lives as a family of three.

The sun had fully set by the time they were left alone again, the room bathed in the soft glow of the nightlight. Archie slept peacefully in his mother's arms, and George couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the tiny life they had created together.

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to Y/N's forehead. "Thank you," he whispered. "For everything."

Her eyes closed for a moment, and she took a deep, contented breath. "Thank you for being here," she murmured. "For being my rock."

They sat in silence for a while, simply watching their son breathe. The pain of labor was a distant memory, replaced by the warmth and love that filled the room.

As the night deepened, George knew that their lives would never be the same. But as he looked at the two most important people in his world, he realized that change wasn't always a bad thing. Sometimes, it brought the most beautiful moments of all.

Once Y/N had been settled and Archie had been fed and swaddled, George began making calls. The first was to Max, his best friend and fellow YouTuber. He knew Max would be eager to hear the news. "Mate," he began, his voice filled with excitement. "You're not going to believe it, but she's here. Archie's here."

Max's whoop of joy echoed through the phone. "Congrats, George! Tell me everything!"

George recounted the day's events, the excitement in his voice palpable even through the receiver. "It was intense, Max. But she was amazing."

"Send me a picture!" Max demanded.

George chuckled, snapping a quick photo of Y/N with sleeping Archie in her arms. He sent it through, watching the screen as the image loaded. "Just a second," he warned her, leaning in for a selfie. "Max wants a picture."

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn't help but smile. "Tell him he's welcome to visit when he's not busy being a goofball," she murmured.

Max's response was swift. "Oh, you guys are just the sweetest," he texted back, followed by a string of emojis.

The conversation with Max was a much-needed distraction from the overwhelming reality of fatherhood. They talked about everything from the birth to the baby's size to the absurdity of changing nappies. It was comforting to share this moment with someone who had been by his side through thick and thin.

As the conversation wound down, George looked at Y/N, who was dozing off. "I'll be right back," he whispered, carefully extricating himself from the bed.

In the hallway, George sent messages to their other friends—Arthur Hill, Arthur and Chris—announcing the arrival of Archie. The congratulations began pouring in, each one a warm embrace in the cold, sterile hospital corridor. The buzz of his phone was a gentle reminder that they weren't alone in this journey.

With the initial round of calls and messages out of the way, George took a deep breath and allowed himself to feel the weight of the day. The excitement, the fear, the joy—it was all there, swirling around him like a tornado. He leaned against the wall, his eyes drifting to the vending machine at the end of the hall.

"You okay?" Max's voice pulled him back.

"Yeah," George said, straightening up. "Just a bit overwhelmed."

"You're doing great," Max assured him. "Now, go back in there and be with your family."

With a nod, George ended the call and pushed open the door to their room. The sight of Y/N and Archie, nestled together in the hospital bed, brought a fresh wave of emotion. He approached them, his steps soft on the cold floor. "Everyone's dying to meet him," he said, his voice filled with pride.

Y/N's eyes fluttered open, and she offered a sleepy smile. "Send them in tomorrow," she murmured. "We need some rest."

"Of course," George said, sitting on the edge of the bed. He reached out to touch Archie's cheek, marveling at the softness of his skin. "We'll show him off tomorrow."

And so, as the first night of their new lives began, George sat vigil, watching over his family. He knew that tomorrow would bring more challenges, more joy, and more love than he could ever imagine. But for now, he was content just to be here, in this moment, with the two people who had irrevocably changed his world for the better.

*****

The next day, their hospital room was a flurry of activity as friends and family trickled in to meet the new addition. Arthur Hill, George's childhood friend and fellow YouTuber, was one of the first to arrive, his eyes wide with wonder as he took in the sight of the tiny human in George's arms. "Bloody hell," he breathed, his hands hovering over Archie as if afraid to touch him. "He's so small."

Chris, another close friend, followed shortly after, a bouquet of balloons in tow. His smile was a mile wide as he hugged George, clapping him on the back. "Congrats, mate," he said, his voice gruff with emotion. "You're going to be an amazing dad."

Max, ever the entertainer, brought a camera with him, eager to capture every moment for their vlog. He hovered around the bed, snapping photos and asking questions with the enthusiasm of a kid in a candy store. "So, what's it like holding your own little mini-me?" He quipped, eliciting a laugh from George.

The room grew crowded with love and laughter, each visitor offering their own brand of congratulations and well-wishes. Y/N's mother bustled about, ensuring everyone had tea and biscuits, while George's sister whispered stories of her own children's births.

But amidst the chaos, George never lost sight of the most important thing—his family. He watched as Y/N's face lit up with each new person who cooed over their son, her exhaustion forgotten in the face of their friends' excitement. And as the day turned into evening, and the visitors began to leave, he knew that this was just the start of their adventure.

As the last of their guests filtered out, George helped Y/N into a more comfortable position, her eyes heavy with the weight of the day. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice a testament to her fatigue.

"For what?" He asked, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"For everything," she said, her eyes drifting shut. "For being here, for being you."

He looked down at her, his heart swelling with love. "Always," he promised. And with Archie nestled between them, the three of them finally allowed themselves to rest, the comforting hum of the hospital machines lulling them into a peaceful sleep.

The next morning, George woke to the sound of Y/N's soft whispers as she cradled Archie in her arms. The sun was just beginning to peek through the blinds, casting a gentle light across the room. He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and took in the sight of them—his two favorite people in the world.

"Hey," she said, looking up at him with a tired smile. "You missed the first feed of the day."

"I see you're a natural," he teased, reaching over to brush a strand of hair from her face.

"It's not so bad," she said, her voice filled with a newfound confidence. "I think we're going to be okay."

Together, they watched as Archie yawned and stretched, his tiny fists waving in the air. "He's perfect," George murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

Y/N nodded, her eyes shining. "He really is."

The day ahead was filled with doctor's appointments and discharge papers, but for now, they had this moment—just the three of them, basking in the glow of their new reality. And as they watched the sun rise over London, George knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, as a family.

*****

@gvf23

@loveheart-123

@xxkatxgracexx

[boldlyvoid]

Snowed In

18+ Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Summary: what happens when you're the last two in the office on Christmas Eve and the roads are closed due to an unexpected blizzard?

Warnings: divorced touch starved hotch, Agent reader, blizzards, alone at Quantico, cuddling, flirting, making out, face sitting, munch hotch, teasing, p in v smut, soft dom hotch, spit, biting, fluffy aftercare

word count: 5.3k

The weather forecast for Christmas Eve didn’t look nice… but you can’t really call out of work at the FBI for ugly weather when there are terrible people out there to catch. And, unlike everyone else who thought it would be smart to head home before the storm, she had paperwork to do.

So by the time her last file was closed, the roads were too. 

The power was still on, and it would stay on thanks to the generator at Quantico and the best part was that the kitchen was newly stocked with snacks. 

She wandered down to the floor 6 break room, which just so happened to be in the BAU bullpen. Everyone had gone home, the desks were empty and the only lights on were in the kitchen area. She took out a mug, flicked on the kettle and started to make herself some toast with one of the many Jams in the fridge. She’s so caught up in her snack that she doesn’t hear a door open, or someone walking down the steps towards her until he's taking a deep breath and scaring the daylights out of her. 

“Oh god,” she jumps, hand on her chest as she turns to him. “Agent Hotchner…” 

“Agent Y/L/N,” he smiles. “Sorry, I thought you knew I was still here.” 

“I figured you went home to your wife—

“Ex-wife,” he sighs, showing his ringless hand. “She has our son this year, I thought I’d catch up on some work and then the snowstorm got… well, you see,” he points to the big glass windows covered in snow. 

“It hasn’t snowed like this here in years,” she shakes her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe we're stuck here…” 

“Well, it’s not like there’s nothing to do,” he teases. “We have a TV, lots of snacks, the power won’t go out on us so it’ll stay warm in here and Daves got a cot in his office if you need a place to sleep…” 

“Oh, thank you,” she’s shocked he’s thinking about her like that. “I didn’t even think about that part.” 

“you’re just hungry?” He teases. “What are you making?” 

“Tea and toast… you want some?” She asks, hopeful he’ll say yes. 

He nods, “I’d love some.” 

They work around the kitchen like a team. She makes the toast, he makes their tea and they share exactly how they like theirs done… and there's a hope in her heart that maybe this is just the first time she makes him a breakfast meal. She’s always found him handsome, everyone in the bureau had, honestly. Not only is he good-looking, he’s strong and smart and kind until he can’t be anymore. And when he’s mean, even that’s a little sexy.

He invites her up to his office where she finds he’s been sitting on his couch, his laptop on his desk, watching old episodes of Fraser… “seriously?” She can’t believe it. 

He blushes a bit, “it’s a good show. I have every season on DVD and this laptop has a disk drive, so…” 

“Honestly, I’ve never really watched it,” she shrugs. “What season are you on?” 

“The first one, I can start it from the beginning again?” 

“No, it’s okay,” she waves it off. “I think I can catch up, you’ll just have to explain some things to me.” 

And so he does, he gives a rundown of the first few episodes. Who Fraser is, his weird brother, his dad and their dad's helper— who his brother eventually falls in love with. It’s a good show. It’s funny, she gets to see Hotch smirk and sometimes, actually, giggle… it’s something she’s not used to. 

In the handful of times she’s worked with the BAU on things, Agent Hotchner has never cracked a smile. Episode after episode, he gets happier and friendlier and she takes that as an invitation to move in closer and closer until their shoulders are touching. And then he lifts his arm to rest it on the back of the couch and she’s even closer to him. His tie is off, his first two buttons are undone… he’s comfortable and handsome as ever and it takes everything in her to watch the show and not stare at him. 

“Do you want to watch another?” He asks in a hushed tone, just for her to hear— as if they weren’t completely alone here. 

She nods, “I can do another.” 

“Cool,” he smiles ever so softly and goes to get up so he can switch the disk to access another 4 episodes.

She watches him take out the old disk, put it back in the case and take out the new one. He places it in the tray, closes the disk drive and watches as it loads up to the title screen again. He hits play, and makes his way back to the couch with a sigh, placing his arm on the back again, just as close to her as last time. 

“This is really nice,” she compliments. “Thanks for making this night fun for me.” 

“I’m actually really glad someone else got snowed in here too,” he teases. 

“I really thought I was alone in here,” she sighs. “I’m so happy I’m not…” 

“Are you happy it’s me?” 

She can’t help but smirk, “Yeah… alone time with Agent Hotchner wasn’t something I ever expected to get.”

“Would you want more?” He asks, staring at her lips. “I mean—

“Yes,” she cuts him off. “If I knew you were single I would’ve asked before…” 

“It’s only been 6 months, we haven’t worked together since then,” he reminds her. “I haven’t— I haven’t even tried to spend time with someone else, yet.”

“But you think you’re ready?” 

He shrugs, “I— I think you’re pretty and you’re nice and we’re here and we’re having a good time…” 

“So are you asking me on a date hotchner, or do you want to bone in your office?” 

He laughs, “Bone? Seriously?” 

“Canoodle, bang, bump uglies, fuck,” she lets out all the slang and he laughs again, good and hard and it’s beautiful. 

She cups his face and he pauses for a moment, “I think I’d like to start with just kissing you.” 

“Okay,” she breathes out as she leans in to kiss him. 

He’s so gentile. His lips are soft, and he’s tentative and reserved. He keeps his hands to himself and lets her set the pace. She never would’ve guessed that making tea and close proximity would lead to kissing the most handsome man she’d ever known in her entire life. When their tongues meet, he finally reaches out for her. Holding her side, he grips her just enough to make her crave more. She moves in closer, desperate to throw her leg over him and sit in his lap… but it’s him who initiates it. 

He tugs her in, helps her settle in his lap and wraps both his hands around her to cradle her body against his. She sighs against him, making him smile into the kiss. She smiles too, coping his face she pulls back to look at him, “I didn’t expect Frasier to be the show that rials you up like this…”

“Well… tossed salads and scrambled eggs are both euphemisms,” he teases.

“How so?” 

He lets out a deep breath through his nose like he doesn’t want to explain it. “The phrase ‘toss my salad’ is slag referring to rim jobs— or really any kind of oral pleasure, I guess…” 

“Oh,” she wasn’t expecting that in the slightest. “And I guess scrambled eggs is how he likes his eggs done in the morning?” 

He nods, “who knows, really? The theme song has never actually been explained but… how do you like your eggs in the morning?” 

“Why? It’s not like you can make me some in the morning,” she teases. 

“Maybe, when the roads are better we can go get breakfast?” He offers. 

“I thought the whole point of the saying was that you’re supposed to make them for me?” She stares him down, hoping to make him laugh… she gets a smirk and a shake of his head as he tries to hold it in. 

“I will make you breakfast, at one of our places, the first chance I get,” he assures. “If… if that’s something you’d like?” 

She nods, “Yes, Aaron, I would love to get to know you more, and spend time with you and see where this goes… I’m literally in your lap right now dying to see what we get up to.” 

“Dying to?” He couldn’t believe those were her words. “Why?” 

She runs her fingers through his hair and then traces down the side of his neck and watches her hands as they trail over his shirt to rest on his chest. “When you look in the mirror in the mornings, do you plan on being the sexiest agent in the building or is this all just a happy accident?” 

He blushes, “I mean, I don’t really plan it— I just put something on and come to work.” 

She just shakes her head and sucks her tongue, “Well I guess now I have to show you just how handsome you are every single day.” 

“And how would you do that?” He asks, gripping her hips a little tighter. 

She leans in and kisses him softly, “You’re so handsome.” She kisses his cheek, “And pretty…” She kisses his jaw, “And cute…” he starts to smile and blush uncontrollably. 

As she goes lower with her kisses, she works on his third shirt button, exposing a bit more of his chest so she can drag her tongue over his collarbone— which makes him toss his head back and whine. “Oh god, you’re so sexy,” she praises. “I want to hear more of your pretty noises.” 

“So we’re doing this?” He asks, looking nervous.

She smiles softly and looks him in the eyes. “Only if you want to, baby,” she whispers. “We can do whatever you’re most comfortable doing, I’m sure this is going to be weird venturing into a new experience for the first time in so long, but we can go as far as you want and stop the moment you don’t want to do it anymore, okay?” 

He nods, “Thank you.” 

“And if you want to stop we can go right back to cuddling and watching the show and we can still go on that breakfast date,” she assures him. “I’m going to want to do that no matter what happens, okay? I like you, not what I can get from you.” 

“You’re so nice,” he swoons a bit. “Seriously, why are you so nice to me?” 

“you’re a good man, I’ve enjoyed working with you… and looking at you,” she teases. “But in all seriousness, you deserve someone to be gentile with you, you’re only so stone-faced at work to protect yourself, I get that, but you deserve some softness too.” 

“I had a feeling you’d be sweet to me,” he whispers, breaking his walls down for her. “I’ve wanted to do this… I’ve wanted to break out of my shell and be with someone new and forget about how much my wife—my ex-wife broke my heart, but I’ve been scared.” 

“It’s a scary thing,” she sympathizes. “But if you want me to be the first one you're with, I’ll be so good to you. I’m going to take care of you and make it fun and easy and soft and-and even if you get emotional or it’s too much, I’m not going to hold it against you.” 

“I want to do this,” he nods, staring at her lips. “I want it to be you who I start over with.” 

“I want to be that for you,” she cups his cheek again and smiles. “Thank you for picking me, Aaron.” 

“Um… I don’t have any condoms,” he warns. “There might be some in Dave's room… maybe Derek's desk?” 

She laughs, “I have some in my purse upstairs, I can go get them?” 

He nods, “Yeah, that would be good and then I can turn this sofa into a bed while you’re gone.” 

“Okay,” she goes to get off him but then stops herself, she leans in and steals on last kiss and he smiles into it. “Sorry, I needed another.” 

“You can have a million more when you get back,” he keeps smiling, overjoyed with his choice. 

—

He has about 6 minutes of freakout time while she goes to get her purse. He turns the couch into a bed, having a sleeper sofa in here was a blessing for nights like these… and when his wife kicked him out. He untucks his shirt and then re-tucks it and pulls it out again, he thinks about unbuttoning it and laying on the couch or maybe waiting for her at the elevator doors— he’s so nervous he has no idea what to do with his hands or his body. 

He wanders around the room and talks himself into meeting her at the bullpen doors just as she’s walking up the couple stairs to his office. “Oh, hi.” 

“Hi,” she smiles so beautifully. “You know you can still back out?” 

He shakes his head, “I don’t want to… I’m just nervous. I haven’t done this in a while.” 

“How long?” She asks.

“Since the last time with my ex-wife or with someone new?” 

“Either?” She’s simply curious. 

“My ex-wife was my first and only… and I haven’t been with her in almost 8 months now.” 

“You know you could have anyone in this office in a heartbeat if you wanted to,” she reminds him. “You’re the most handsome agent in the whole FBI— just don’t tell Morgan I said that.” 

He laughs, “Thank you.” 

“This is cute,” she motions over to his sleeper sofa. “You want to cuddle and make out a bit, again?” She asks while kicking off her shoes and she does the same thing, making it easier for when they shed all their clothes later. 

He nods and pulls her in close, “Kissing you has been the best part of my day.” 

“Well, let me make it even better,” she teases, leaning in and connecting their lips once more. 

It’s just as heated as before, only now his hands are on her lower back and he’s so tempted to grab her ass… so he does, he hauls her up so she can wrap her legs around him and he knees on the end of the bed. He lays her down, still kissing her while he attempts to hover over her— but she wants more. 

She grips his hips and pulls him down flush against her, so she can wrap her legs around him once more. And by wrapping herself completely around him, he suddenly feels at home. His nervousness dies off, his apprehension to experience something new and different and unlike himself diminishes to nothing and he’s able to enjoy this. 

He wraps his right arm around her, trapped between her and the mattress, while his left-hand cradles her head. He kisses her with passion and care and she gives the same energy right back… if not more so as she moans into his mouth. He pulls back with a smile, “you like kissing me that much?” He teases with his newfound confidence. 

“I mean yeah but do you not realize how hard you are against me? It feels amazing,” she explains, her legs wrapped around him still, she pushes him down against her core and has him grind against her once more. “You feel so good, baby.”

He was so in his head he didn’t even realize his other one was so active… he blushed a bit, “You like it?” 

She nods, “If grinding with you all night is all I get, I’m going to leave a very happy camper.” 

He leans in and kisses her cheek and then her jaw right up to her ear, “Oh, you’re getting more, believe me… so much more.”

She moans again and he takes that as enough incentive to keep kissing her there. He bites her earlobe gently and sucks on her neck just enough to stimulate her and yet not enough to leave a mark. Her hands search his back, feeling him up as he tenses from hovering over her and then releases when he drops his body weight against hers once more, and she sighs when he does that. She loves the feeling of him on top of her. It’s like he was meant to always be there. 

He withdraws his hands from under her and grips her hips as he sits up, “can I unbutton your shirt?” 

“You may,” she says, a look of excitement plastered over her face. 

“I want to just rip it open but I know you don’t have another shirt to wear home tomorrow,” he teases. “and it’s just too pretty to ruin.” 

“Hopefully you don’t feel the same way about me…” 

“Oh no, that’s precisely why I need to ruin you,” he assures, making haste on her buttons, he leans back in and starts to kiss the newly exposed skin of her chest. Right between her boobs and down her tummy until her shirt is completely unbuttoned and all he has left to pop is the button on her pants. 

Her tummy is so soft, that he gets inside her shirt and wraps his arm underneath her back to feel how warm she is and uses it as an excuse to undo her bra in the process. He pulls her forward and gets her out of her shirt and her bra and can’t help but stare down at her chest and then back up to her eyes, “mesmerizing.” 

“My turn,” she whispers, “let's flip.” 

He listens, laying on his back, she straddles his hips and leans down to kiss his neck while she undoes his shirt. Button by button, she gets him exposed just to press their naked chests together and kiss him right on the mouth once more. She hauls him forward so they’re both sitting up and she pushes the shirt off his shoulders so they can feel each other up. 

He grips her hips and tugs her in, grinding her against his bulge once more. She breaks the kiss to kiss his jaw and down his neck, “mm, Aaron,” she pulls his attention from the kiss. “Lay back.” 

“Okay,” he listens, leaning back and she reaches for his belt. 

“Can I?” 

He nods and so she starts to unbuckle him, she pops his button and pulls the zipper down so she can reach into his pants. She feels over his bulge, watching as he tosses his head back and bites his lip to hold back a moan. “Let it out baby,” she whispers. “A touch-starved man like you… come on, let me hear you.” 

“It’s not the only thing I’m starved for,” he jokes, blushing again. 

Her eyes widen as she pulls back, “oh yeah?” 

He nods, he wants to go down on her so bad that his stomach flips with anticipation. “Please?” 

She sits more on her knees and reaches for the button on her pants, “how do you want me?” 

“Would you— if you want, I mean, you can pick but I’d like to—

“I can sit on your face,” she knows exactly what he was trying to ask. 

In the same way, she liked feeling his weight on top of herself, he wanted to feel completely smothered by her pussy and thighs. 

She pushes him back so he’s lying flat and climbs off the bed so she can take her pants and underwear off, shoes long gone, she’s in nothing but her socks as she climbs back onto the bed and straddles his chest. 

He’s a little impatient, pulling her forward and wrapping his arms around her thighs, he gets her right where he wants her and kisses her right where her thigh meets her cunt. He eases into it, kissing her gently, whispering praise about how beautiful she is and how lucky he feels. 

But then he looks up at her, “don’t be afraid to really sit, I can take it.” 

“Tap me twice if you can’t,” she agrees and within seconds he’s going at her. 

“Fuck,” she gasped as she leans forward to rest her arm against the wall behind the couch, grinding against his face, exactly the way he wanted it. 

His tongue deep inside her, his nose nudging at her clit, he savours the way she tastes as if she hasn’t said she would be willing to do this again… and from her noises, he knows this experience just makes her want it again soon.  He wants her to enjoy it, he’s always been more into making his partner enjoy it. This time it feels a bit more selfish, as the more she enjoys it the more she’d be willing to come back and the more he can do it. And he wants to eat her out for the rest of his life. 

Her sounds are a price, her weight on top of him is magnificent and she’s absolutely delicious. And he hasn’t even gotten to the best part yet. Making her cum on his face is going to change his life. 

When he inserts a finger, her legs start to tremble around him. She’s so close, he can tell. Sucking on her clit while he massages that wonderful spot inside of her with his middle finger, she moans so deeply it vibrates her whole being. She starts to chant his name, right on the edge of her orgasm, so he adds a second finger and the damn bursts. 

She trembles harder than before, and a beautiful elongated moan leaves her mouth as she cums on his face. He’s quick to withdraw his fingers and replace them with his tongue, gathering it all with the most disgusting sounds he could ever make— but fuck, if she wasn’t the most delicious woman in the whole world. 

He was so into her, so transfixed on getting her off that he didn’t realize he was grinding up against nothing and the largest precum stain had marked his boxers and surely was on the inside of his work pants. 

“Aaron, Aaron, oh my god, stop, stop, holy fuck,” she makes him stop by pulls off him and sits down on the pillow beside his head. Hand to her chest to catch her breath, she melts against the mattress, “sweet Jesus?” 

“I need to do that every chance I get,” he muses, so in love with how it went down. “You’re delicious.” 

She laughs, placing her hand on his big bicep as she looks down at his glistening face, “I’m going to take you up on that all the time.” 

“Merry fucking Christmas to me,” he teases as he sits up, noticing just how close he was that whole time. 

His cock is strained against his boxers, soaking them around the elastic band, darkening the gray fabric so much that he feels a little embarrassed. She notices it too, but she smiles, “Oh, you really liked that, didn’t you?” 

He nods, unable to say much. 

“Come on, get your pants off, I think I’ve calmed down enough to take care of you now,” she assures. 

He doesn’t have to be told twice. He gets off the bed and starts to take off his pants while she looks around for her own, “can you get the condom from my pocket?” 

“Yeah,” he goes right for her pants right after his are off. 

She just looks around the room, avoiding eye contact with his cock even though he knows she wants to look, “I didn’t even ask if you have cameras in here…” 

He laughs, kneeling on the edge of the bed with the condom between his fingers, “No, I don’t. With all the confidential material I see in here and the conversations had in here, they didn’t put a camera in here. But there is one directly outside my office so they know you’re in here but they won’t know what you’re doing.” 

“And who is this they you speak of?” She teases. 

“Whoever watches the tapes but probably also Penelope… if she learns I was here all Christmas she will go back and look to see what I did,” he shakes his head with a loving smile. “She just cares a lot.” 

“She’s the sweetest,” she agrees. “But thank fucking god no one can see what we’re doing… I’m glad this is just for us.” 

“Mhm,” he hums, he gets between her legs and tugs her down the bed a bit so she’s lying with her head on the pillow, “they don’t need to see what’s about to happen.” 

“although someone should teach more guys how to eat like that…” 

He laughs again, leaning down to kiss her, “Then you’d have any guy you want and I'd rather be the only one for you.” 

“Very true,” she says against his lips before pressing her lips against his. 

They just kiss a couple times before he pulls back and sits on his knees once more, opening the condom and rolling it on. She finally takes a look at what he’s got going on between his legs and he sees her lick her lips while taking in a deep breath. “Fuck sake, you really are going to ruin me…” 

He smirks, “Do you want me to? We could just have a sweet and slow—

“No, I need a good fucking, like the fuck my brains out kind,” she assures. 

“It’s your lucky day,” he teases, running his hand over her inner thigh as he helps her spread them. “I can do that for you.” 

“Do your worst—

“Oh no, it’ll be my best,” he says, gripping his cock and tapping it against her pussy. “You ready?” 

“Please?” She begs, pleading with her beautiful eyes. 

He slips in ever so slowly, letting her adjust to his girth as he leans over her. He caresses her face with one hand, holding himself up with his lover, watching her take it all in. Head tossed back, she bites her lip and then lets out a blissful sigh. She grips his sides, wanting to desperately pull him down on top of herself once more, but she waits until he’s fully inside. 

“Oh my god?” She whines, “please move, I need more, please?” 

He smirks, leaning in to kiss the side of her mouth as he starts to rock his hips. He wraps his arm under her as she pulls him in closer and moves her mouth so they can kiss for real. She moans against him as his rhythm changes, his hips speed up and she wraps her legs around him to get him even deeper inside her. 

She feels so amazing, he almost forgot what it was like to fuck something other than his own hand. The way she flutters around him and grips him so tight, the feeling of her nails in his back and her tongue on his own. He’s in absolute heaven. So good in fact, he’s afraid he might not last as long as she deserves. 

He reaches between them and rubs her clit with his thumb, moving his kisses to her neck and just below her ear, “doing so good, baby.” 

“Holy fuck, Aaron,” she moans, tossing her head back and pushing her chest up. 

He looks between them and can’t help himself, he kisses her chest and she looks down to see what he’s doing, he looks up to her for permission only to hear, “suck on them, please? Please, oh my god?” 

He takes her nipple in his mouth and swirls his tongue around it before gently running his bottom teeth over the nib. She gasps, tightening around him which makes him moan with her nipple in his mouth. He brings up his other hand, using it to pinch her other nipple and she absolutely flutters around him, it’s everything. 

When he lets go of her nipples, he reaches his hand under her knee and pushes her right leg up. The angle changes, he’s so much deeper now, hitting her right where she wants him again and again, he kisses the inside of her calf gently as she tosses her head back. She moans, tightening around him to the point he’s so sure he’s about to lose control. 

He may be out of practice, but he’s not out of manners. He needs her to finish first. 

Using all the power he has left, he keeps her leg up like that but adjusts himself so his pubic bone can rub against her swollen clit with each and every thrust. “More,” she spits out. “Please? ‘M so close.” 

His hand slips down her leg, “I know baby,” he coos, keeping her stretched open, he just needs to get his thumb on her clit. 

He stills for just a moment, gathers some spit in his mouth and drops it between them so it lands right on her clit to release the friction but then he picks right back up. She whines, sweating and her head tossed back, getting ruined just like she asked to be. 

She somehow tightens around him again, and he’s so fucking close he feels like he could go insane. “you’re right there, sweet girl, let go when you’re ready,” he says through bated breath. So fucking close. 

And that does it, she starts to tremble again, her core tightens and so does her grip on his arm. “Oh, Aaron!” She moans out a string of incoherent words follow as she lets go and gets lost in her pleasure. 

He keeps going, helping her ride through it before his rhythm changes. He’s right there, dropping down onto her and kissing her shoulder as he pile-drives into her for the home stretch. Her hands roam his back, caressing him, “Fill me up, Aaron, you deserve it,” she whispers in his ear. “Cum for me, come on, baby.” 

He whines, right there, scared of what noise is going to come out of him when he does cum but he also doesn’t really care at this point. He whimpers and groans, biting her shoulder slightly as he fills the condom and stills against her, “Oh my god? Oh, my god… holy fuck?” 

She wraps her arms around him once more, tighter like a hug this time, still panting, she agrees. “I know, Jesus.” 

He laughs against her, high on endorphins and feeling completely invincible, “You’re amazing.” 

She grips his hair at the nape of his neck and pulls him up off of her shoulder, “You are incredible, that was the best sex I think I’ve ever had.” 

He can’t help but smile as he leans in to kiss her. She brushes his hair off his forehead, it’s sweaty and slicks right back. Their kissing is softer this time, lazy and less lust-filled— more loving. Thankful. 

He kisses her one last time before going to sit up on his knees and pull his soft cock out of her but she pulls him back in, “No, can we just cuddle like this for a bit?” 

“Yeah,” he nods, not expecting her to want this but so glad she does. 

He settles back against her shoulder, hand on her boob while she traces shapes over his back, “this is my favourite part,” she whispers. 

“Me too… but I’m never usually on top,” he admits. “Or still inside…” 

She lightly laughs and he can feel it all over, “What, your wife wasn’t a big fan?�� 

“Not really, she was quick to go get cleaned up and then she would cuddle into me and go to sleep… but I don’t want to talk about her anymore,” he admits. 

“That’s okay,” she coos, soothing her hand down his back. She rests her cheek against the top of his head. “This has been the best night. Who thought getting snowed in at Quantico would end like this?” 

“Not me, but I’m so glad it did.” 

General Taglist 

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

[hotchfiles]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [CHOICELESS HOPE] ❞ — six. picket fence dream.

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader. summary: the moment leading up to the kiss, the drumroll, is as good as the kiss itself. it's certainly more innocent. it's completely harmless. content warnings: canon divergent. emotional cheating (not on reader). angst. right person wrong time. it's confession time. no use of y/n. word count: 2k+ a/n: you might hate or love me let's see which is it

      Rossi doesn’t usually come to his apartment, especially with no warning on a Sunday, especially at 7AM, so when Hotch sees his less than pleased expression through the peep hole he knows it’s bad.

      “A crying drunk mumbling fucking mess. Porca miseria!” Dave wastes no time, the words finally free after hours of keeping them in.

      “Good morning to you too, Dave.”

      “Don’t. You know what you did.” Yes, Hotch knew. But he definitely didn’t expect this as the consequence. Still, he couldn’t even feign ignorance.

      “So, you took her ho—” Rossi’s eyes are piercing enough to interrupt him and force an exhale. “Thanks.”

      He is truly grateful, he is not usually one to act out like a child, much less one to leave people he cares about behind like that. You brought up his best and his worst. Much of his strength and thinking power went towards controlling himself. The rest got messy.

      “What are you going to do?”

      “Well, I’ll apologize tomo—”

      “Aaron!”

      “I don’t know. I just don’t. And Beth will be over with coffee in a bit.”

      Aaron watches his much too annoyed closest friend pour himself a sip of scotch, drinking it all in a mouthful.

      “You are throwing away a second chance people don’t normally get. Do you even know why?”

      Of course he knows why. There are many many whys.

      Jack needed the stability only someone out of this godforsaken job could give, and he adored Beth.

      Haley wasn’t an agent and he lost her, being with you was accepting the fact you could leave with him for a case and simply not come back. Essentially getting his son, his baby boy, a step mom that could be taken from him the same way as his mother.

      Beth gave Jack a bigger chance of not losing again.

      It gave him a bigger chance to rebuild his picket fence dream home.

      It was logical. It was the right choice.

      The feeling in the pit of his stomach and the bitter taste on his tongue shows disagreement with that every time he ponders though. And it’s hard to make the right choice when his body and soul begs him not to.

      Before he can even muster enough will power to argument his way out, Dave comes at him with more questions to shake his belief system to the core. “Is this about Haley? About Jack? Or are you really just incapable of letting yourself be happy?”

      Ouch.

      Rossi doesn’t pull any punches, Aaron knows that, it’s why they get along well, no sugarcoating. Doesn’t make it less annoying to deal with it so early in the morning. Especially after the hell night he had trying to sleep and being plagued by thoughts and worries of you.

      “If anything was to happen it would’ve happened before I met Beth.”

      “How could it when you are both idiots?” Aaron simply sighs, not having a good enough rebuttal to that.

      It was a true, he was an idiot, he could’ve gone after you when he got divorced, or after his grief got less painful. But back then he was angry, feeling abandoned by you when he would’ve never done the same to you.

      He begged you to not forget him, to call him. He waited, he called. It was all fruitless as you made your decision to take him out of your life already.

      Now it all seemed too complicated and to act on those feelings would complicate it even more.

      Aaron is saved by the bell, if anyone could consider hearing the knock on his door he knew to be Beth’s, one of the reasons of his internal conflict, being saved.

      At least Rossi leaves him alone for the time being, excusing himself as soon as the brunette enters the apartment with a quick peck to Aaron’s lips. Surely enough, Hotch has to tell her later that morning that no, Dave has nothing against her, he was just moody from being awake too early.

      Luckily most of the day is spent around Jack and what the wanted to do, making it more about spending time with his boy than a date, so he doesn’t have to focus too hard on being a good partner and on not thinking about you. But it’s all he thinks about when Beth leaves at night and he realizes morning come he will have to see you.

      Your eyes don’t meet his for even one second as Garcia presents the case and he knows it then how truly he fucked up. You aren’t angry. You look tired, not your face, not your eye bags. In fact you look as beautiful and put together as you always do, but in the glimpses he catches of your eyes as you talk to someone else, he sees it. And it breaks his heart. You are exhausted, not because of the job.

      Because of him. And the worst thing is, he can’t even leave you alone, being the Unit Chief meant having to talk to his team, it meant to lead. He sighs to himself as everybody gets out of the briefing room and he wants to brush his fingers against yours lightly like old times and make you smile, but most of all Aaron just wants to tell you how sorry he is that this is happening again.

      He can’t do that, knowing right now it would only make things worse, so he just gets up from his chair, grabs his go-bag from his office and follows the motion until everyone is in the jet. There he does his best to suppress what is going on his mind to focus on the case.

      Galena is a beautiful small town, quite romantic even, too bad it is now suffering with the abduction of two children, the case and the BAU disturbing its peace.

      And that disturbance goes well into the night, when no one is able to work anymore and Hotch has to call it a day, figuring out on the spot that Garcia had to book them in pairs, his key card the same number as yours.

      Hotch can imagine Garcia had someone influence her on the chosen pairs, Rossi was practically glowing with childish glee as everyone got their cards.

      Both you and him are too prideful and professional to make a scene asking to switch with someone. You were stuck with him until the case is resolved.

      The two single beds as you enter the room are a relief, but the distance between them aren’t nearly enough in comparison to how faraway from him you wished to be.

      “Just like the old days, huh?” He’s the first to speak, trying to break the tension as he spread the files of the case on the only desk available.

      “Don’t do that,” you reply quickly, your tone as tired as your eyes have been since the first time he saw you today.

      You drop your bag on the floor close to your bed, the loud noise startles Aaron, but you don’t care, body aching and ready for rest.

      “That what?”

      “Talking. Don’t talk to me,” you clarify. Another loud noise, your body dropping on the bed without ceremony. Eyes closed and focused on pretending he wasn’t there.

      He stays quiet for awhile and you think he might respect your request, so you relax in the clean sheets welcoming the slumber.

      Unfortunately for the two of you, now you are annoyed. So annoyed his shuffling around papers make your skin crawl.

      Just like the old days.

      The complete audacity to begin with that as if he didn’t abandon you drunk just two days before.

      You sigh deeply, putting a pillow over your face to try and muffle his annoying overwhelming presence.

      It doesn’t work.

      “God, please, breathe louder, I don’t think Japan has heard you yet,” you shoot at him, immediately sitting up and catching him working the case files.

      “You want me to stop breathing too, is that it?” He doesn’t look up from the papers, annoyed at the childish antics you’re pulling, which irritates you even more.

      “If you could be so kind to, yes!” Your voice is pure sarcasm and venom, reminding him of just how stubborn and strong-willed you can be.

      Just as he stops his writing, pen left to the desk, you get up in a hurry, attempting to go to the bathroom and ready to slam the door behind you. Hotch is quicker, getting up from his chair and grabbing your wrist to stop you from avoiding him even more.

      It doesn’t hurt. His grip is gentle and you know you can easily get away from it. But you don’t.

      “Hey, I’m sorry.” You nod at his apology, but he knows that won’t be all, so Aaron lets your wrist slip from his fingers and waits for the arguing he’s been avoiding to start.

      One beat.

      Two.

      Three beats pass before your mouth moves in sync with your drowning mind, “what exactly are you sorry about?”

      Right to the jugular from the start. He obviously instantly thinks of the easy answer: Everything. But that’s not the answer you’re looking for. Beyond that, he knows it would be unfair for both of you to gloss over the situation once again.

      You know Aaron isn’t stalling but actually thinking by the way his index and thumb rub together, his lips tightly pursued. Your stomach feels like it’s twirling, nervousness making an appearance now that this was about to happen. The talk. The admissions.

      Both of you are aware now shouldn’t be the time to talk it all over, there is a case to work, a hard day to rest from, but this is 10 years in the making. The flight response was already drained, only fight left.

      “I’m sorry for overstepping and turning our friendship into something confusing and uncomfortable,” he says slowly but firmly, but even so Aaron regrets his choice of words, more regret when he catches you rolling your eyes.

      “Confusing and uncomfortable, sure,” you reply with the same sarcasm you displayed earlier, your arms now crossed defensively over your chest, “I hope that’s not the best you’ve got.”

      “I’m trying here and I would appreciate a little less sarcasm.” His eyes are as piercing as his tone, you scoff at the manifestation of frustration, as if he had grounds for that right now.

      Your feet have a mind of their own and you start pacing around the room, “Hotchner, I changed my whole life around ten years ago for the sake of your comfort.” That wasn’t untrue, although it had a lot to do with your comfort as well, but he needed to be reminded of your sacrifices. “And the first opportunity you had to be a dick to me you not only took it but doubled down on it!”

      Hotch knows you are speaking about the gala and before he can control his tongue like he would in a time like this, " I got jealous! It took over me.”

      It’s good that he doesn’t expect that to stop you or take your breath away because if anything, you’re angrier now.

      “You have a girlfriend! You have no right to be jealous of me! You were married, Hotch! And I never did something like that to you.”

      “You left! I love you and you left,” he notices his mistake and quickly tries to recover, “I loved you. You’re back and I don’t know what’s the right thing to do.”

      He sits at the edge of his chosen bed, elbows to his knees, hands to his face and you finally stop on your heels, not knowing how to react to the confession you both have been denying yourselves from speaking out loud.

      You swallow dry, sitting on the edge of your bed, right in front of him.

      “I loveーI loved you too.” Your hands find home on his knees and his drop to hold them.

      “l don’t know what to do. I want to do the right thing.” He sounds pained and you have to fight that desperate lover girl in your mind begging you to tell him to choose you.

      “I can’t help you with that,” it’s what you actually end up saying, “I’m sorry.”

      “I’m sorry too.”

[14buddy22]

Hey if you're looking for Hotch requests, what about Hotch dealing with a crush on a non-bau sunshine reader when he's still sad after the divorce/Foyet but he's so confused by his feelings because it's been so long that he doesn't know what's going on??

Like if it's case related, maybe he thinks reader is a suspect because why else would he be so on edge around her and it's just so painfully obvious to everyone else. Idk if that makes sense but I just think Hotch being so out of touch with his emotions despite being a profiler would be funny lol

Feel free to adapt and make it your own!! Thanks!!

Thanks for your request! I hope it lives up to your expectation!

You were the best damn bartender in Quantico, Virginia. At least, that's what you thought to yourself. You made work fun. You worked in a club environment so if you wore something scandalous, flirted with the customers a bit, you were sure to bring in a hefty tip at the end of the night.

But, you loved the hustle and bustle of it. You loved the interactions, loved singing along to the bands or the good music. You loved having conversations with the locals, loved celebrating parties for kids turning 21, people getting married, or hell, people getting divorced.

Then you met who you swore is your soulmate. Something in you stilled when you were bartending. You never froze up at your job. You were good at what you do. But seeing him walk through that door, looking all handsome in a suit, he took your breath away. You watched how he interracted with the bouncer.

You watched him show his badge to your best friend. FBI. An average Joe wouldn't just waltz into your bar, you knew he was a sophisticated man.

But when he locked eyes with you, you felt like the bar had heated up 100 degrees. Making his way over to you, you were trying to calm down. What had you feeling like this?

"Hi, I'm Agent Hotchner with the Behavioral Analysis Unit for the FBI. It's my understanding from the gentleman at the front that you are the lead bartender?"

You finished making your drink for one of the locals and asked your partner to manage the bar. Luckily it was early evening and the college kids had about another hour before they started flooding in so you knew you'd be okay leaving her by herself.

"Yes, I'm Y/n Y/L/N. It's nice to meet you. How can I help you?"

You shook his hand, and you swore you both held it for longer than you both intended.

All I could think was that she was beautiful. No, no, I can't think like that. My wife, ex-wife was brutally murdered a little over a year ago. Something's different talking to her, to-Y/n. Something I haven't felt in a while but I don't know what it is.

She's a bartender. I hear she's a damn good one. Maybe that's why she's about to be the suspect in a string of murders. Men have been killed shortly after they leave this bar. Traces of posion have come back on the tox screen. Bartenders have access to the drinks and alcohol before they serve, y/n's the perfect suspect.

But she's beautiful, and I haven't seen her stop smiling at all. She has a gorgeous smile. She'd be the sunshine on the rainiest days for the men that have been murdered. Before I know it, my thoughts and feelings consumed me, I'm still holding her hand. I could feel Dave's eyes burning a hole into me.

"Have you heard about the three men murdered around town?"

"Yeah, I have. It's very unfortunate. They were great men. At least to me. They tipped well and always had friendly conversations. They also stood up for me if some men coming in here for the first time were getting a little handsy with me."

Oh how I wished I could be the one to make sure no one got handsy with her. Wait, what am I saying? She's a suspect, she doesn't know it, but she is.

"How were they killed?"

Agent Hotchner's partner spoke up to answer your question.

"They were poisoned."

Ugh, these poor men. Had to die a slow pain, they didn't deserve it. They deserved justice now.

"We just wanted to come in to see if anything unusual has happened lately."

"I've seen a lot of crime shows with my ex-boyfriends before. You're really trying to see if I did it. Which I didn't. I don't think I have the heart to kill anyone. I broke up with my last ex because he hunted and I couldn't bare the thought of killing animals."

Of course you broke up with your ex because of that. But I have a job to do and I have to investigate further. Plenty of killers have lied straight to my face before.

"We'll be in touch Ms. Y/l/n, thank you for your time."

You smiled and shook their hands one last time before you went back to working your shift. Something about Aaron caught my eye. Maybe it's the way he was blushing like a school boy. You're not sure, but he was handsome.

Just when Aaron walked into the bar, you smiled at him, offering him a drink.

"Agent Hotchner, it's good to see you again."

Your smile never waivered. Maybe you would shoot your shot with him.

I can't believe I have to do this. Arrest someone this pretty. Arrest this girl who Rossi thinks I have feelings for. What? Feelings? That's an intense word, but I have to arrest her.

"Unfortunately I'm here to place you under arrest."

I watched all the color drain from her face. I watched her smile fall so fast. But it had to be her. Rossi and the team wasn't so sure, but I have a gut feeling it's her. Of course with it being my team, they weren't going to stop me. I took her sunshine away.

"Agent Hotchner, I, I didn't do anything."

Your manager saw what was going on, he was like your work dad. He took care of you like his daughter, despite him having sons, he treated you like his princess. You heard him say say, "Y/n, I'm getting you a lawyer, do not speak. I know you didn't do this. But I'll meet you where they're taking you."

You smiled back at him, tears filling your eyes. You wanted to make everyone happy, you never wanted to hurt anyone. How are you being arrested? You didn't do anything wrong.

Your ride back in Aaron's SUV was silent. How could you think he was your soulmate? Your soulmate would never arrest you. But you were still feeling something, you couldn't explain it.

I keep looking in the rearview mirror at her. I had to trust my gut. She poisioned those men. But why do I feel so guilty arresting her. From the time we had met her, been surveillencing her, up until I placed the handcuffs on her, she had smiled. Everyone spoke highly of her. I took away her sunshine. I did that.

As you walked into an interrogation room, Aaron sat you down in the seat, then took off your hand cuffs, handcuffing one hand to the table instead.

"We'll wait for your lawyer, do you need anything?"

"No."

You couldn't even look at him. How could her. You told him you didn't do it.

As I walked out, I was greeted with Penelope. "Sir, she has nothing on her record, not even a speeding ticket. I've looked through her social media posts and everyone spoke so highly of her. Friends were making special post to thank her for being a great friend. She took care of everyone. Sir, I-I know I'm not an agent, but I just can't believe it's her."

Penelope was cut off by my phone ringing, picking it up after viewing the caller I.D.

Morgan said, "Hotch, we got the wrong girl. It's Y/n's bartending partner. I just watcher her slip something into this guy's drink. I'm bringing her in, we can cut Y/n loose. You can be happy now. Y/n's not a killer. What that gut feeling is, is your feelings that you like her Hotch. You haven't felt that since Haley. I know it's been 20 years, but trust me man. Y/n is something special, according to the track record she has. She's the opposite of a killer. She's just the type of sunshine that you and Jack need in your life."

Aaron walked in and said, "I'm sorry, there has been a huge mistake. You are free to go. It was the other bartender you worked with.

"What? There's no way. She's amazing at what she does."

Aaron shook her head and said, "One of my agents was in the bar watching the entire time, he was undercover. He watched her slip something in another man's drink."

"Oh. Well, I'm glad you got the right killer. If, if you don't mind, can one of your agents give me a ride home? I don't have my car, obviously."

You didn't know how to feel. You knew you didn't do anything, but was Agent Hotchner always going to have a doubt in his mind that you were a killer?

You got in his car, this time sitting in the front seat. A storm was coming in, you enjoyed the rain and thunder, it calmed you. You two rode in silence, when he dropped you of at your apartment, he walked you up.

When you opened your door, you turned around to thank him, instead that didn't come out.

"I told you I didn't do it, ya know?"

"I know. I know. I'm sorry. I. There's something about you, y/n. I thought you were a suspect, but you should've never been one."

As your eyes were red and filled with tears, you looked at the man who you thought was your soulmate, instead, he had ruined you. Yes, you two didn't date, yes, you didn't hook up, but there was something there.

"Well then why the hell did you do this, Aaron? Why arrest me?"

"My ex-wife passed away a year ago. I haven't had feelings for anyone in nearly 20 years. My feelings for you confused me. I didn't know what I was feeling. I didn't know what these feelings were because I've been so out of touch with them. And it took me a minute to realize that these feelings are because I didn't think you were a killer, I thought you were beautiful. I think you're beautiful. But that gut feeling was that I think. I think I've found my soulmate."

As she stepped closer to me, I watched the sunshine fill her eyes again, her smile creeping up her face. God, was she beautiful and amazing, and from her friend's testimonies who I interviewed, she was a down right amazing person. Just the absolute sunshine to be around.

You were going to kiss Aaron. You were glad he figured out his feelings. This was going to be the start of something new. You didn't know what happened to his ex, you'd find out someday. You took the chance. You placed your hands on Aaron's hips and leaned in to kiss him. You were so happy that Aaron felt the same way. How did you know this? He placed his hands on your face and kissed you back like you were the only sunshine he'd ever see again.

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

The Butternut Squash (The Surprise, Part 19)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: pregnancy times, mentions of female anatomy/breastfeeding, explicit language (let me know if I missed anything!) Word count: 2.2k

Summary: You and Emily don't really need a baby shower, but you do need help getting the nursery ready, so the whole BAU comes over one Saturday to help out.

Week 29: The Butternut Squash

You had insisted on no gifts. You and Emily had plenty of money. You didn’t need a registry, and you didn’t need a baby shower. What you did need was help getting the nursery decorated and set up. So Emily–fresh off a 4-day case–had invited the entire BAU over to help prep the nursery on a rare, free Saturday.

“Emily,” you complained that Friday morning when she came home. “I won’t even have time to make food!”

“You don’t need time to make food,” she chastised, wrapping her arms around you from behind and resting her chin on your shoulder. “Because we’re just gonna have it delivered.”

You scoffed. “I always cook, Em. It’s my whole thing!”

She turned you around and grasped your face in her hands, kissing the tip of your nose, then moving to your lips. You huffed impatiently, even as your stomach erupted in butterflies (and maybe a few kicks from the baby) when Emily kissed you. “Okay, well, right now your whole thing is being seven months pregnant, so…”

“I could at least make cookies…” you grumbled. “If you get me chocolate chips from the store?”

Emily raised her eyebrows at you, but smiled lightly. “Will it make you happy?”

“Mmhm,” you confirmed, turning on the charm and your very best puppy dog eyes.

She sighed and rolled her eyes, kissing you one more time for good measure and grabbing her keys from the counter. “I can’t say no to you when you look at me like that.”

“Thank you, my love!” you called after her, a little too giddy with your grocery store victory.

“Yeah, yeah…” she muttered, shutting the door, but you knew she was smiling behind it.

But, now, here you were. Saturday, mid-morning. A plate of fresh-baked, homemade brown butter chocolate chip cookies on a plate on the coffee table… along with gifts from every single member of the BAU. Despite insisting they not bring any.

Hotch sat in the living room with you, playing Mario Kart on the Switch with Dave and Jack. Penelope gossiped with you on the couch. Meanwhile, Emily was running operations in the nursery, and every so often you could hear her ordering Derek and Spencer around. It made you giggle. JJ squeezed your shoulder, hovering back and forth between rooms.

“You need anything, Y/N?” she asked.

“I’m okay,” you assured her. “Thanks, JJ. Just… make sure Emily doesn’t get too bossy.”

JJ laughed. “Oh, I’m not sure anyone can do that.”

“Can we do gifts now? I think we should do gifts! Open mine, Y/N!” Penelope insisted, patting the spot next to her on the couch for JJ and handing you a glittery gift bag. You should’ve known they wouldn’t listen when you’d said not to bring gifts. You would’ve done the same thing. They were your family, after all.

You pulled out the tissue paper to reveal several tiny baby onesies in bright colors with adorable designs and sayings. Happy Camper. Silly Little Bear. Even one with tiny dinosaurs all over that said Babysaurus. Your heart felt like it might burst thinking about how cute your little one was going to look in these.

“Penelope, these are so cute!” You wrapped her in a hug. “I’m gonna send you so many pictures of her in these!”

“I know you guys are waiting to find out the gender, so I tried to pick ones that were gender neutral. Although, I mean I guess technically every outfit is gender neutral or… should be, or–”

You stopped her before she spiraled. “They’re perfect."

Before you knew it, Jack was pressed up against you, shoving another gift bag into your hands.

“Open ours, Aunt Y/N!”

You wrapped an arm around him and gave him a squeeze. “Thanks, buddy. I can’t wait to see what it is!”

You pulled out the most adorable stuffed gray wolf, soft as velvet, complete with two little pointy felt teeth sticking out.

“Oh, Jack, it’s perfect!”

“His name is Wolfie,” Jack told you, snatching the toy back.

“Jack,” Hotch scolded. “Remember, that’s for Aunt Emily and Aunt Y/N’s baby. It’s not yours.”

Hotch looked at you apologetically, and you shook your head to let him know it wasn’t a big deal.

“I made you this picture, too,” Jack said, handing you a crumpled piece of paper. You smoothed it out to find stick figures of you and Emily. He’d drawn your belly as a big circle, with a tiny swaddled baby inside of it. You grinned.

“Now, this is art, Jack. This is going right on the fridge.”

“This is you,” he said, pointing. “And this is Aunt Emily. And this is the baby inside your tummy.”

Speaking of the baby, she was incredibly active right now. Almost as if she, too, was happy to be with her BAU family.

“You want to feel her kick?” you asked Jack, and he nodded. You grasped his hand in yours and pressed it over your baby bump, estimating at the last place she’d kicked. Jack screeched when he felt her kick his hand, jumping on his tiptoes.

“Oh my gosh!” he squealed. “Oh my gosh! Daddy, there’s an alive baby in there!”

Hotch smiled at you. He was such a good dad. A good team leader. A good friend to you and Emily.

“After she’s born, Jack, you’ll have to come over and hold her,” you told him, but he was already gone, distracted the Switch.

“Aw, crap,” Dave exclaimed as Hotch hit him with a red shell. Hotch chuckled. “Y/N, go ahead and open up mine,” Dave said. “I’ve already lost this race. It’s the one with the silver paper.”

Penelope grabbed the gift for you, since your arms wouldn’t quite reach all the way to the coffee table. You ripped off the paper to reveal a box set that read, “Ciao Pasta Bistro.” It included a tiny little metal stock pot and colander, little ladles, and soft felt pasta shapes–bowties and raviolis and elbow noodles and shells.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, looking it over. Penelope and JJ leaned next to you to get a closer look. “This is freaking adorable.”

“The little meatball’s gonna know her pasta shapes if Uncle Dave has anything to say about it!” Dave called, cheering as he zoomed past Hotch with Star Power.

“Thank you so much, Dave,” you said, and you really meant it. They were such thoughtful gifts, so particular to each of them. You couldn't wait to show the baby, to let her get to know her BAU family, too.

JJ waited until everyone was distracted and Penelope had been dragged into Mario Kart (“Okay, but I’ll win! They don’t call me a tech goddess for nothing!”) to give you her gift. She sat next to you and pulled a bag from underneath the coffee table.

“These are more for you than for the baby,” JJ explained. “But if your pregnancy is anything like mine, you’ll get plenty of baby gifts, but not a whole lot of mom gifts.”

“That’s really thoughtful of you, JJ.” You squeezed her hand.

She pulled things out one by one, displaying them discreetly and explaining their purpose. “Listen, your nipples will hurt so bad. So bad. Just telling it like it is. So…” She held up a plastic tube. “Nipple cream. This one was my favorite. Also, silver nursing cups. I can’t explain why the silver makes them less sore, but it does.”

You nodded, feeling both overwhelmed and extremely grateful. “It’s basic, but there’s also a food delivery gift card in here. I know you love to cook, but I promise you’re not gonna feel like it for a while after giving birth.”

“JJ, I don’t know what to say. This is so nice.”

She held up a finger to stop you. “Last gift.” She pointed to herself. “Me and Will. We’re happy to babysit. Often, if you like.” When she saw you start to protest, she said, “Look, Henry’s getting older, and I really miss baby snuggles. So it’s really no trouble at all.”

You felt like you might cry. It wasn’t that nobody paid attention to you or took care of you during your pregnancy. Emily took excellent care of you. It was just that JJ was right. Most people looked at the end of your pregnancy and the birth of the baby as the end of the hard part for the birthing parent. But you knew that wasn’t going to be the case. And JJ knew, too. You were so grateful for her friendship, for her support.

“Thank you so much, JJ,” you said quietly, pulling her in for a hug.

“Oh, are you opening gifts?” Spencer asked, entering the room and hovering quietly behind you.

“Yep!” you said, watching him retrieve a tidy package wrapped in newspapers and hand it to you. You looked at him, eyebrows furrowed. “Are you guys done with the nursery already!?”

Spencer chuckled. “Oh, no. Not even close. I just snuck out while Emily was yelling at Morgan.”

You shrugged and started tearing the paper. “That tracks.”

Inside Spencer’s package was a set of colorful board books with titles like Quantum Physics for Babies, General Relativity for Babies, and Rocket Science for Babies.

“Spencer, these are awesome!” you exclaimed, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “Baby Prentiss is gonna be a genius.”

“You know, that’s probably true,” Spencer observed, taking Penelope's place in front of the TV next to Jack. “Scientifically speaking, children inherit their intelligence from their mother, not their father. So no matter how intelligent or unintelligent the donor was, the baby will inherit your intellect. And you’re really smart, so it’s likely the baby will be, too.”

“Trust Reid to come with a prepped science lesson,” Emily said, poking her head around the corner.

You threw a balled-up piece of wrapping paper in Emily’s general direction. “Zip it, Em! I like hearing about what Spencer knows.”

“Nerd,” she muttered under her breath, coming up behind you to place her hands on your shoulders and kiss the top of your head. “You alright? You need anything?”

You squeezed her hand. “I need you... to stop being so mean to Derek.”

“Thank you!” Derek exclaimed, emerging from the hallway to shove Emily out of the way and plant a kiss on your cheek. “It’s nice to know someone around here cares about Uncle Derek.”

Emily shoved him back. “Yeah, well, I don’t want to have to tell the little butternut squash that you wussed out of painting his nursery one wall in.”

Derek grabbed one of the cookies from the coffee table and took a bite, momentarily closing his eyes in enjoyment. You smiled. This is why you loved cooking and baking.

“Listen, Prentiss,” he teased. “I’m taking a well-deserved break. You’re lucky I love your girl or I wouldn’t put up with this shit.”

“Ooh!” Jack squealed. “He said a bad word!”

Derek looked at Hotch apologetically, then reached down to grab the last unopened gift bag. 

“Here, mama,” he said, handing it to you. “Saved the best for last.”

You grinned at him, handing Emily the loose tissue paper as you opened the gift. Inside was a collection of soft toys that included a football, a whistle, and a little number one finger.

“Oh, man, are we gonna have a little football fan, Uncle Derek?” you asked, grinning cheekily.

“Not just any football fan,” he insisted. “There’s one more thing in there.”

You pulled out a tiny Chicago Bears onesie, complete with a number 34 on the back for Walter Payton.

“A Bears fan, huh?” you said, smiling from ear to ear.

“I figured since the little guy or gal’s gonna be born right as football season’s kicking off, he’ll spend a lot of time on the couch watching the games with Uncle Derek. And we gotta be decked out in our matching gear.”

“If you let us sleep, Morgan,” Emily said, squeezing his shoulder playfully. “You can indoctrinate my son into being a sports fan all you want.”

“Or daughter!” you protested, and the whole team laughed. By now, your faux-feud over the baby’s gender was well-known. They were even placing bets. It was about a 50/50 split.

“Alright, guys,” Emily said, clapping her hands together and rallying the troops. “One wall down, two walls to go. And one wall of wallpaper, but I don’t think that’ll take as long.”

JJ, Penelope, Hotch, and Dave stood to follow Emily to the nursery while Derek took a seat next to you. Spencer sat cross-legged on the floor with Jack, fully immersed in Mario Kart.

“Be there in a second, Emily,” he called. “We’re about to start Rainbow Road.”

You grinned, so glad to be surrounded by Emily’s family–her real family. Happy that you had people who were excited for you, people who took care of you, people who gave up their Saturday to help you get ready to welcome a new family member.

“Hey, Jack, add me and Derek in for the next round,” you said, lowering yourself gently onto the floor, Derek’s hand instinctively grasping yours to support you. “I play a mean Moo Moo Meadows.”

[asterias-record-shop]

mommy kink dave lizewski please and thank you ? 😋 i love your work sm and would be so happy if you decided to write this !!!! 💓😖

╭════• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •═══╮

— make me a mommy

╰════• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •═══╯

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

Nympho! Reader who never wants to stop having sex after her and Dave take each other’s virginity and wants him to get her pregnant so they can start their family early. **also, lactating can start as early in a pregnancy as a few weeks

“Dave, stop it!” You whine, tugging on his shirt as he leaned over the table looking at ads that were put out saying ‘NOW HIRING’ in big letters. “We bought a house and daddy’s covering the bills for a year, you don’t need to work!”

We didn’t buy a house, your family bought a house for you both to live in. You were a daddy’s girl, and whatever you wanted, your father was surely going to get it for you no matter how much of a dent it put into his extremely deep pockets. Your father didn’t necessarily like Dave, but he didn’t necessarily dislike him either - he just wanted you to be happy.

Dave wanted you to be happy too, he really did, or he wouldn’t have proposed right after graduation. He was looking for a job so that he didn’t live up to your family's expectations of being a horrible person for you to marry. Dave truly did want you to be happy with him, and make sure your parents loved him just as much as you did - not in the same way though, of course.

"I'm almost done, baby, let me just put in this application in." Dave mumbled, inhaling as you slowly came behind him, rubbing his shoulders as you pressed soft kisses to his neck.

"Come on baby, we have stuff to get to remember? I'm ovulating and I found positions for us to try because missionary gets boring," you whispered, your hands pushing down his shirt as you looked over his shoulder at the applications. "You as a firefighter would be pretty hot."

"I don't know about that, honey," he whispered back with a sigh. "You got to go to school and training and whatever."

"What about that?" You suggest, tapping the position for an IT technician. "My daddy said they need one at his company. He can get you a good salary."

Dave shook his head, sighing. "No baby, I don't want any more handouts from your dad. I think a weapons dealer would be hot, don't you?"

You laughed, shaking your head as you tapped another square about the military. "What about that?"

"How would I be able to do that-"

"You being Kick-Ass and not having pain sensors in most of your body," you responded, giggling. "Come on, I would make an amazing military wife. Now put those up..." you pushed the magazines to the side, humming. "And come put a baby in me."

Dave swallowed as you grabbed his wrist, tugging him to your shared room as easily opened the door before jumping on the bed. "So, the article said that if I leaned over the bed a little bit, the sperm will find its way past the cervix quicker because of gravity. Do you think that's true?"

Dave blushed, shrugging. "I-I mean... gravity is real?"

You giggled, sitting up only to slip off your clothes before your stomach started to twist. You burped softly, covering your mouth before rushing to the bathroom and leaning over the toilet. You groaned loudly as you vomited into the toilet, Dave immediately following you and pulling back your hair while holding your shoulder.

For fucks sake, was this it?

When you finally stopped, he passed you a water bottle he got from your shared bedroom, watching as you swashed the water in your mouth before gurgling it and spitting it out. "David, give me a test."

"Y-Yes ma'am," he pulled out the drawer, grabbing you one of the tests as you stood and flushed the toilet, quickly doing your business and cleaning yourself up before flushing and pacing. "Y/N, honey, it's going to be okay."

"I want to be pregnant, Dave," you whisper, inhaling as you push back his hair. "I want to be pregnant with your baby, want to have so many babies with you. I want to be a mommy, Dave."

"You'll be an amazing mommy," Dave assured you, holding your hips as he stared down at your tits. They were already fuller; you had said that lactation can start as early as three weeks after talking to your gynecologist. "Such an amazing mommy."

You paused, looking down at your tits with a slight smile. "Do you want to see if it's... happening?"

He blushed, shaking his head. "I-I don't... I don't think that's right, honey."

"Why does it matter? They're not born yet, they don't need it," you whisper, smiling as you looked back. "Shall we see if it's true?"

"Of course."

You turned around and gasped, squealing. "I'm pregnant!"

Holy shit.

You jumped into his open arms, giggling as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, Dave spinning you around in excitement. "We're going to be parents! You're going to be a mommy, holy shit," Dave laughed as you stroked his cheeks. "You're going to be the most amazing mommy ever."

"And you're going to be the best daddy ever," you giggled, smiling as his hands ghost the sides of your tummy, eyes trained on your pretty tits. "Want to see if it's happening? We could celebrate with it."

"What, are you going to be my mommy too?" He teased, watching as your cheeks started to tint, smiling down at him. "Oh."

"Well come on. I'm going to be a mommy soon, I should get used to someone calling me that."

Maybe that's how you got here, Dave sucking on your tits as his hips rutted uncontrollably against yours, desperate to be deeper inside of you. "F-Fuck mommy, fuck, you taste so good, I need more."

You were so out of it, your hips unconsciously bucking into his in desperation to cum, to get that high as his hands paw at your tits, squeezing and letting his thumbs glide over your nipples. "I-It's early, Dave, maybe there's not much!"

He had been sucking and pinching, making you cum at least three times just from his work on your tits, oversensitivity flooding your entire body. Every thrust he made had you seeing white, every slide of his thumbs along your hard, pebbled nipple making your eyes roll back, each drag of his cock along your walls and his tip hitting what felt like your cervix.

"You said constant stimulation will make it produce more, right? Please, please mommy, I need more," he groaned, cursing when none was squeezed out of your tit. "Fuck!"

"D-Dave, there's no more, fuck! Just wait, wait a few minutes." You whimpered, staring down at your swollen nipples, gasping when he pulled it back into his mouth.

"Just a little longer, mommy? Please?"

You inhaled, sighing. "Okay."

What kind of mom would you be if you said no, hm?

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

© asterias-record-shop

[guiltyasdave]

say you'll see me again

epilogue • series masterlist

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

word count: 789 (it's a smol one)

tags/warnings: explicit smut -> 18+ mdni, dbf!Dave, somewhat unhealthy relationship dynamics (in the past), daddy issues (reader’s dad sucks big time), able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, divorced Dave, angst, but also... nice things :)

a/n: co-written with my angel @joelscurls, i love you <3

this is me officially saying goodbye to these two babies and i'm extremely emotional about it. i loooooved writing this story, it has brought me so much joy, it's my favorite thing that i've created and they really mean the world to me.

this story has received so much love and i'm beyond grateful for everyone who has read, liked, commented or reblogged <3 i hope you like this ending as much as i do.

follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for updates and find jess’ masterlist here and my masterlist here :)

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

No one’s there to cheer you on at your graduation ceremony, no one to sit in the audience and clap when your name is being called and you walk across the stage. You didn’t invite anyone. 

A small part of you, the part that still feels like the 12 year old girl who thought that her father would love her if she only tried hard enough, had hoped that somehow he would know anyway. Would show up to surprise you. 

It’s less of a surprise that he didn’t. 

When you accept the certificate with your name on it, it gives you a grim sense of satisfaction. You’ve done it on your own. On your own terms, with your own money.

Your father had all but thrown you out of the house after seeing you leave on the security camera footage mere hours after he’d declared that you were grounded. It’s been a challenge, adjusting to the lack of his financial aid, getting by entirely on your own. It also felt like freedom, like you were finally able to breathe. 

You swallow down the bitterness that stings in your chest and rises up your throat when you watch your classmates, your friends, surrounded by their families. Proud smiles, hands on shoulders, long hugs. Fueling a longing that’s been there for as long as you can remember. It wouldn’t have been like that with your father anyway. 

You’re better off like this, with the person who, despite his insistent claims, is the one who actually brought you to this moment: Yourself. 

The buildings of the town you were raised in are surrounding you, a familiar backdrop as you make your way down the street. You don’t know why you felt the need to come here. Maybe you had to visit one last time, after leaving in a panicked rush, too hurt to dare to look back. Maybe you can say goodbye now, and your mind will stop torturing you with questions of what could have been, daydreams of scenarios that you wished had turned out differently. Maybe you can clear out the remains of the battlefield that it turned into, and finally make peace with it. 

You had wished to be able to hate David. Hate him for not wanting you, hate him for pushing you away. Hate him for the way he changed you, for showing you a connection that you haven’t been able to feel with anyone else. But you never could. 

It’s not hard to understand in hindsight, why making you leave seemed like the right thing to do for him. Looking back, you think that it actually was. Though that never made losing him hurt any less. 

If anything, you wish you could hate him because the fact that he did the right thing makes you want him more. 

The door shuts behind you and your eyes adjust to the dim light of the bar. Your shoes are sticky against the ground. It’s a far cry from the country club you used to go to. But you’re also a far cry from the girl who used to go there. No black little designer dress on your body, no expensive heels clicking against the floor. And no fear. No fear of being ignored, no fear of being talked down to, no fear of having to make yourself small. 

You’re free to be yourself, now. 

You walk towards the counter, hop up on one of the stools. It scratches against the wooden floor, mixing with the faint sound of rock music playing from a speaker in the corner. 

There’s movement beside you, the silhouette of a man caught in the corner of your eye. The drum of his fingertips against the counter. 

“Evening.” 

The wave of a memory builds up in your mind within moments, flooding your every thought. The smooth rumble of his voice. The shape of his face when you turn towards him. The strong nose, the hard line of his jaw, the permanent pout on his lips that you can still feel against yours when you try really hard to remember. The deep brown shade of his eyes that still means safety to you. 

When thinking about him, you had always pictured him somewhere new, somewhere you couldn’t reach him. It seems silly, now that he’s right here, like a piece falling into place. Of course he’s here.

Your lips pull up into a smile. No shyness, no worries of doing something that you shouldn’t. 

“Hi.”

“I’ve never seen you around here before,” he echoes back the first words you’ve ever spoken to him. He remembers, just like you. Just like he said he would. Your smile grows wider. 

You’re free to be yourself, now. 

...i'm trying really hard not to cry right now. if you enjoyed this, please consider letting me know <3

[misfit0789]

Jersey Swap

Georgia Stanway x Reader

Summary: Georgia visits R at her professional baseball game.

Word count: ~650 words

Warnings: None

Short little thing I wanted to post based on Georgia being at the New York Mets game the other day.

"I never get tired of seeing you in those pants" I jump as Georgia smacks my ass before wrapping her arms around me from behind and laying her head between my shoulder blades.

"Babe! I know you love me in these almost as much as I love you in your kit but," I turn and press a kiss to her forehead, "you only have a few minutes down here before you have to be up in the suite for the game. I think David has the jersey's we are swapping. I mean I have tons of your jerseys already but what's one more?" I smile, she rolls her eyes before pulling away from me and heading towards my twin in the dugout. I sigh and follow behind her.

"Ahh there is my favorite sister-in-law," David cheers opening his arms and pulling Georgia in for a hug. "Oh how I've missed you. I still don't get how you can put up with her."

"She's your only sister-in-law genius," I state grabbing the jerseys off his shoulder, but not before landing a slap to his head. "Besides you saw her when we were in London playing the Phillies. Now give me my wife so we can take some pictures before I have to go warm up Tylor." I joke pulling Georgia by the arm into my own arms. I press a kiss to her head as she giggles but waves by to David.

"Bye Dave, I'll see you after the game, we're going to dinner tonight anyway." She calls, he nods and gives a thumbs up before making his way to the bullpen. "Now, where were we?" I smile and hand her my jersey for her to hold in the picture, not noticing the camera crew already taking pictures of us.

"Okay you two, just a few more pictures and Y/n you're all set to go warm up." The social media team member says, we both nod and hold up each other's jerseys smiling for the camera. Once they finish with the pictures I hand Georgia her jersey to hold on to for me.

"Thank you babe. I will see you after the game. I love you," I press a quick kiss to her lips.

"I love you too. Go kick some Padres' ass love." I smile and nod pressing another kiss to her lips before moving to put on my catcher's gear.

~~~~~

The game ended in a victory for us winning 11-6 with myself hitting a home run. I finish cleaning up my stuff in the locker room before meeting Brandon and David at the doors with my bag in hand.

"Geeze you take forever!" Brandon exclaims David chuckling at his side, I smile and shove him to the side before moving past him to meet up with our wives for dinner.

"Yea well, I'd like to see you both sit and sweat in that catcher's gear most of the game, then see who can clean up the quickest." I say before opening the door to where the girls are waiting.

"Baby you did amazing!" Georgia exclaims, I laugh and drop my bag to catch her as she jumps into my arms spinning us both around before setting her back on her feet, my arms wrapping around her waist.

"Thank you, my love. Now, I don't know about you but I am starving. Who is up for some food?" the boys yell in agreement before moving to the exit, their wives shaking their heads but following behind. "Why do I talk to those two again?" I ask Georgia, removing one arm from her waist and grabbing my bag so we can follow behind the others.

"Because one is your twin and the other is your best friend." She giggles, I sigh and nod pressing a kiss to her head.

"Right, forgot about that." She smiles and leans her head on my shoulder as we continue our way to the car.

[ddejavvu]

ok pls i need you tp write this bc i can’t - reader gets into a fight with an unsub and ends up with a nosebleed she doesn’t notice afterward, and hotch tenderly holds her face and wipes it away

if you're interested in hotch holding reader's face to wipe away her nosebleed i'd recommend this lovely story from the equally lovely @luveline, several lines of which i think about daily ("Oh, honey." 💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗)

--

You can only breathe easy once the doors to the cop car shut, and the unsub is driven away. He's out of sight and out of mind, and your shoulders sag with the weight of the worries sliding off of them. You're exhausted, and hearing Hotch's voice directing your team members is a welcome sound to your ears that have been ringing with sirens for far too long.

"Dave, you make sure Morgan gets checked out by the EMTs. He is not okay, no matter what he tells you."

"Will do," Rossi nods, wandering over to where Morgan is rubbing at his sore shoulder. Bashing through doors hurts, and you know he's probably feeling a deep ache in his muscles.

"Prentiss, you and JJ head back to the precinct and start filling out your paperwork, Reid can help once you fill him in. And Y/L/N," Hotch turns to you finally, addressing you as the last of the group. But he loses steam, falling silent when he sees you.

You don't know why, and it makes you tense. You're sure you look a sight, sweat-slicked hair and chest heaving from running to capture the unsub, but he's never been one to judge appearances.

After a quick moment of silence, one that seems like he's waiting for the answer to a question he hasn't asked, he speaks: "Come here."

You pause for a moment, but once you register his odd words, the last thing you'd have expected him to say, you race off on unstable footing. You linger a few feet away from him, brows raised cautiously.

"Yes, sir?"

"No come- here." He mumbles, closing the gap between you two so that the toes of his shoes almost bump your own. Your stomach tenses, and he digs into the inside pocket of his windbreaker to retrieve a packet of tissues.

"Sir-?" You ask, but before you can complete any further question, his hand lifts to cradle your jaw. Your chin rests on the side of his pointer finger as he angles your face upwards, towards the light of the moon that you're bathed in.

"Sir," You repeat, breathless this time. He smooths his hand up the side of your jaw, cupping your cheek as he takes a tissue and raises it to your lips.

"Your nose is bleeding," He murmurs, keeping his voice just as soft as your own. Your team members have dispersed, but if Morgan and Rossi glance over, they'll see the hottest gossip the BAU has had in years.

"Did you get hit?" Hotch asks, eyes focused on the space between your lip and your nose. The bridge of your nose wrinkles slightly as he presses the tissue gently into your nostril, wedging it tightly so that the blood can't escape again.

"No," You want to shake your head, but Hotch is holding it, so you can only speak. Your voice is weak, and muffled slightly by the press of the tissue against your lip.

"Do you usually get nosebleeds?" He presses, brows furrowing.

"No." You repeat, "Uh, maybe just- just adrenaline. Or something."

"Alright," Hotch nods, withdrawing the tissue from your face. It's stained crimson and it leaves a miniscule stain on his hand, something you'll be embarrassed about until the end of time. He hands it off to you and you stuff it back over your face, desperate to hide your flustered expression.

"Thank you, sir." You speak, voice nasally from the tissue obstruction.

He nods, tilting his head sideways towards the ambulance on duty, "I think we should get you checked out. Just in case, I know you said it wasn't an injury. But it's hard remembering what happened after the fact, and I'd rather be safe than sorry."

"Um- okay." You agree, easier than you normally would. You're fine, you know you are, but Hotch just had his hands all over your face, so you might be on the verge of a heart attack, and medical attention when it happens would be ideal.

"Come on," He starts walking when you don't, his large hand against the small of your back to urge you forwards. Your feet crunch against twigs, leaves, and dirt alike, but you can't worry about getting them dirty, not when Hotch is guiding you to an ambulance after cupping your cheek.

You're in a haze when you step up to the ambulance, and Hotch answers for you when the EMT raises his eyebrows expectantly at you.

"Agent Y/L/N has a nosebleed." Hotch informs him, nudging you forward still with his large hand, "I just want to make sure they're okay."

"Alright, let's check that out," The EMT nods, leading you over to perch against the open bed of the van, "Agent, are you feeling faint?"

Yes.

"No," You shake your head, moving more freely as you walk away from Hotch, "Um, I'm alright."

Two gloved fingers press into your neck and the EMT's face twists into a frown, "Your heart is beating very fast."

"Adrenaline." You blurt, seeing Hotch's face darken in a concerned frown from where he's listening in. It makes things worse, and you have to look away from him to lie to the EMT, "From- uh, the chase."

The EMT"s face stays pinched in a frown for a moment, but he studies your heaving chest, faraway gaze, and shaky hands, ultimately deciding that you're right.

"I think that's a safe bet. But keep an eye on that nose, if it starts swelling you should get it checked out."

"Will do, thank you." Hotch speaks for you once again, stepping in to walk you towards the SUVs. You're sure he's only being kind, that he's worried about your hazy demeanor, but he's only making it worse.

"I want you to sit down," He orders, but it doesn't feel like one because it's so kind. He offers you the front seat of his car, and you're sure you'll get a teasingly scathing remark from Morgan about it later.

Hotch reaches across you to snag a water bottle from the center console of the car, and you think your breath might never return to your lungs. Maybe you really do need an ambulance, especially when he holds the half-empty bottle out to you.

"I want you to drink this," He watches you take it with shaky hands, "All of it. And we'll get you more back at the precinct. Y/N," He ducks his head slightly to meet your eyes, "Are you sure you're alright?"

Your heart is hammering in your chest, your head is foggy and your ears are ringing with voices telling you to just kiss him already. But you nod instead, raising the bottle to your lips the second after you speak so that you don't have to say more, "Yeah, Hotch. I'm good."