#dave is not a morning person at all
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:)
#dsaf#dsaf fanart#davesport#dave miller#jack kennedy#im sorry#this was all twitter's fault#yes dave does wear orange boxers cuz i said so#their going to work btw#dave is not a morning person at all#but its worse here lolz#jack just tells him to get ready and dave does it bc he loves his old sport#but hes just being a stupid goober in this photo#i drew this like 3-4 hours ago i just forgor to post it on here lol lolz#oh yea#dave aint naked in the second photo you just cant see his boxers
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Why are we calling him "Alpha Dave" when we could be calling him "Big D"?
#or d-rector#like d erector#but seriously is big d not like the douchiest and most perfect name for him in keeping with strider tradition#im cryin#maybe hi also so maybe im just laughing at nothing#alpha dave#alpha dave strider#d strider#alpha bro#homestuck#god im not even kidding i swear im gonna start calling him that until it catches on#gonna have to canonize it in some fan fiction but what to write for it hmm#maybe fan art instead idk ive never drawn dave i dont think#ShitPost.exe#Cori.exe#also wanna clarify something here all dave striders are trans men hussie personally told me when he crawled out from my drain this morning#also also sorry if someone else said this before me i came up with it bc i walk talking about alpha daves big d energy
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Mom!friend reader bringing everyone cute lunches at the bau with personalized little notes for each person 😭 maybe hotch doesn’t even know that you do this for the others too so when someone mentions readers cooking, he’s like “wat”
personalized
ADORABLE cw; bau!fem!reader, established relationship, mentions of food, fluff and aaron being cute <3
the pace at which aaron was moving must've been more intense than he intended and realized; as he hurried past jj's desk, the small draft that followed caused a small piece of paper to flutter to the ground.
uttering an apology, aaron immediately reached down to pick it up. however it had landed face up, and his eyebrows furrowed in small confusion as he caught a glimpse of its contents.
your familiar handwriting kept his eyes, instead of peering away as he normally would - 'my sweet jj! thank you so much for your help on the arizona case file, you're a total lifesaver and your expertise is always appreciated, hope you know that. enjoy <3 ps - your new lavender sweater is the cutest. must plan a shopping day w/ pen soon!'
aaron's eyebrows stayed in that confused line, his eyes shifting up to jj's in a silent question.
"came with the cookies." jj answered for him, pointing her head towards the tupperware container perched on her desktop.
instantly aaron's mind made the connection - so that's why you were up late baking. that made more sense; the time you had spent baking was much too long for the small plateful quantity he had found reserved for him and jack this morning.
"pretty girl sure knows how to cook." derek added into the conversation as he approached the cluster of desks, raising his hand to pat aaron on the back but stopped himself halfway - aaron shot him a pointed look, hiding his own amusement, while jj attempted to conceal her smile with her palm.
another eyebrow furrow. "and when have you had her cooking?"
"here and there. always comes with a note too. i could just about fill a desk drawer with how many i have." derek admitted, with his signature, vivid grin. "she may be yours, we get special treatment too, y'know."
a bit later, you strolled into aaron's office, juggling numerous files in your hands.
"as requested," you started, dropping them firmly onto aaron's desk. "five action reports, minus dave's. he told me when you're as experienced and italian as he is, you can slack off and kinda get away with it. but i think that's his fancy way of admitting he's old." you joked with a eye roll.
"thank you," aaron flashed you a smile, sorting through his current papers. assuming that was all, you spun on your heel to head out and return to the everlasting joy of paperwork, but, aaron's voice stopped you.
"hey hold it, c'mere a sec."
you pulled back one of the chairs in front of hiss desk, the legs producing a scraping noise against the floorboards, but aaron gestured for you to come around. your eyes darted in the direction of his open blinds, then back at him. 'you sure?'
aaron nodded in confirmation. and if you needed any more convincing, once in reach you were pulled onto his lap, his hold on you tight.
if he wasn't being a stickler on the open affection, neither were you; you relaxed yourself against him just as you would normally, your body melting into his and throwing your arms loosely around his neck. "what's up?"
"i didn't know you wrote the team notes."
"oh," you laughed softly, with a light shake of your head. by habit your fingers ran along the skin of aaron's neck, scratching the nape of his hair gently. "yeah, if i bring in lunch or a treat or something. or both. or sometimes just because. an appreciation reminder."
aaron nodded, his fingers drumming against your hip comfortably.
"that's not a problem, is it?"
"well," aaron pretended to think, his hand changing motions and sliding up and down your side, "yes."
"actually?" you blurted as your own fingers paused. that wasn't the answer you expected, and it caused a rush of nervous heat to pool within you. until, you saw the feigned, solemn expression on his face.
aaron peered down at you, his playful eyes canceling out the forced pout on his lips. under his breath, he mumbled humorously, "i thought i was the only one getting notes."
you laughed brightly, the joy within the sound immediately bringing a smile to aaron's lips. "oh don't worry, they don't get the lipstick smooch on theirs. that's reserved for you and you only."
"i would hope not."
"or the, occasional... explicitness."
"again, i would hope not." aaron laughed again. his lips graced your temple, lingering gently as he spoke, "you're sweet."
"a very wise, very attractive person once said, 'people need to know they're important'." your lips quirked into a loving smile, a glint in your eyes. "thought this would be an easy way - i learned from the best."
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner imagine#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds x you#criminal minds drabble#aaron hotchner drabble#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds fanfiction#hotch imagine#criminal minds x fem!reader
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Morning Workout | Aaron Hotchner x F!Reader
Blurb
A/N: This is loosely based on that scene with David and Aaron in the elevator where he’s like “you workout this morning?” And hotch is awkwardly like “I didn’t…”
WC: 955
Includes: Mentions of sex, no actual smut, established relationship, secret relationship (not for long), the team makes fun of you and Hotch
It was an average morning in Virginia, It was warm out and the sun was shining brightly over Quantico. Aaron had just arrived at work, having dropped Jack off to school just before heading here.
He was dawning his usual suit and tie, and his briefcase was clutched tightly in his left hand. As he approached the elevator it opened, perfect timing he thought to himself before entering.
The elevator rode up two floors before stopping, the doors slid open to let someone else on. “Morning.” rang the familiar voice of his friend and coworker, David Rossi. “Goodmorning Dave.” He greeted him with a small smile.
David though looked him up and down as he stood next to him, the elevator now resuming its motion up. It didn’t take a profiler to notice Dave’s staring, and Hotch was confused. He turned and hummed inquisitively.
“You workout this morning?” David asks with a smirk, motioning with his eyes to Hotch’s hair which was messier than his usual perfectly kept look, and his tie which was coming undone. Hotch looks down before clearing his throat nervously and reaching up to fix his tie.
“I didn’t.” He mumbles as he makes an attempt to fix his appearance. Dave laughs to himself, “hmm I wonder who the lucky lady is.” He teases. Aaron stands up straighter than he already was, to try and be serious and not obvious, “its not what your thinking. Just issues taking Jack to school is all.” He said, which he had to admit was a horrible excuse.
Before Dave could reply the elevator stopped and the doors opened, allowing Aaron the perfect escape to a very awkward conversation. Dave on the other hand, knew he needed to figure out who Hotch was seeing and he knew it wouldn’t take long to get it out of him.
Hotch pushed open the glass doors to the BAU office and wasted no time heading up to his personal office, David entering the bullpen right behind him.
The first thing Rossi noticed upon entering the office was you, you were smiling and had this certain glow to you that was strange. Usually in the morning you were grumpy and tired, but not today. Today you were very awake and in a very good mood. The dots immediately connected in his head, you got laid this morning, by the one and only Aaron Hotchner.
Rossi quickly approached you, “someone’s in a good mood.” He teased as he placed his bag down on his desk. You turned to face him, “yeah, aren’t I always?” you responded with a smile. He chuckled, “not this early in the morning.”
You rolled your eyes at him before Derek also approached, “that’s exactly what I said.” He comments. “Your glowing kid.” he added. This warrants another eye roll from you, “Ya know I’m not that much younger than you Morgan.” You respond but Derek knows what your doing.
“Oh no no no, don’t you try to change the subject, You got some this morning, all I’m wondering is who!” He questioned, he was right of course. You nervously gazed up at Aaron’s office hoping to see him there but, he has already shut himself inside. This was the huge tell and you knew it.
Derek’s jaw practically dropped, “oh my god. You and- oh my god!” He laughed. you turned back to him quickly, “I don’t know what your talking about I am fine! I’m good!” you frantically defend.
In the mess of things Emily comes over, “now what is happening over here, it’s too early for all this chaos.” She questioned. Derek was still laughing, “Ya know why she’s in a good mood this morning?” He asked rhetorically. Emily cocked a brow at him. “She had a sweet wake up this morning, her and hotch!” upon hearing this Emily gasped.
“Are you SERIOUS!” She exclaimed, a big smile making its way onto her face. “WOW, you and hotch. I must be bad at my job because I did not see that coming!” She said as she sat down, truly in disbelief.
Rossi chimed in, “You should’ve seen Hotch this morning. Hair a mess, tie coming undone. It was truly a sight to behold.” He chuckled, half at the situation and half the teams reactions.
You were practically sweating at this point, very embarrassed infront of your team. Luckily for you, Aaron noticed the commotion and emerged from his office. “Do you all not have work to do? Because I would be happy to assign somethings.” He scolds from the balcony by his office. Everyone jumps at the sudden sound of his voice and the quickly nod and apologize.
“Oh and (Y/N), my office please.” He adds before going back to no his office, followed by the oooing and whistling of the team members.
You closed the door behind you as you stepped into his office, he was leaning against the edge of his desk and looking at you softly. “I take it they figured us out?” He asks, a little smile ghosting his lips.
All you could do was nod softly, “yeah..I’m so sorry Aaron! I didn’t mean to make it obvious, I didn’t even think it was.” you defended, a frown on your face. Aaron came over to you, placing a large calloused hand on your cheek. “Sweetheart. It’s alright. They were bound to find out eventually” he assured you.
“Your really not mad?” You asked meekly. He pressed a kiss to your temple and smiled down at you. “I promise.” He said.
You knew the team would continue to tease you about it, but you were sorta glad you could share your love for Aaron with your closest friends.
#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner x reader#criminal minds#x reader#fanfic#aaron hotchner#david rossi#emily prentiss#derek morgan
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as seemingly the only person i know who didn't see the northern lights last night, and as someone who has wanted to see them more than anything my whole life, it's kinda like being the world's biggest dave grohl fan and waking up one morning to find pictures of all your friends hanging out with dave grohl, including multiple pictures right outside your house
#what was he doing in a small town in Scotland#oh here he is playing everlong outside my window very cool
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part 1 of something specific
TG: oh my god you get it
CG: OF COURSE I FUCKING DO, DAVE. I’LL ALLOW MYSELF CREDIT FOR ONE GOOD THING, AND THAT’S THE FACT THAT I KNOW HOW TO CONSUME MEDIA CORRECTLY.
TG: you understand me
TG: so many damn times ive tried to turn john over on this business and he doesnt listen
TG: like you dont need to be gay to see how naruto and sasuke are the romance of the fuckin century man its not rocket science dare i say it is elementary level
CG: IT’S BASIC READING COMPREHENSION, I AGREE.
CG: I’M NOT ABOUT TO EVEN *TRY* TO UNDERSTAND EARTH’S BIASES TO CERTAIN FORMS OF ROMANCE, BUT IS IT LITERALLY JUST BECAUSE THEY’RE BOTH GUYS?
TG: i dunno i dont think hes like
TG: homophobic or something
TG: i think if anyone is the number one ally to anything its probably john yknow hed have your back bro if you were all up and being bisexual on earth and people werent scrambling hand over foot away from you because youre an alien
TG: but just because you were that
TG: thing
TG: bisexual
CG: YEAH, THAT THING.
TG: he wouldnt care man
TG: he wouldnt give a shit or fuck about it probably
CG: SPEAKING OF LABELS THOUGH!
TG: aw man are you about to pull out the quadrant shiz on my boys
TG: are you gonna tell me naruto and sasuke got a hate on for each other or something cus thats
CG: OH JEGUS NO, DAVE. THAT WOULD BE COMPLETELY MISSING THE POINT OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP’S GROWTH AND THEIR ENTIRE DYNAMIC, NEVERMIND THE PURPOSE OF THE STORY ITSELF.
TG: alright lay it on me shercock homos ill be your watson watching you with the big twinkling eyes of a newborn fawn
TG: sleuth this shit like you were there when kishimoto invented it
TG: his alien understudy rises from the caverns of anime hell clutching the scroll of one universally understood truth and with his otaku disciples there to listen he takes a deep breath and delivers his groundquaking sermon to the masses
TG: jesus take the mic
CG: I’M CLUTCHING THE MICROPHONE IN MY CALLOUSED AND BONE-DRY TOUCHSTUMPS, BODY WEARY AND ON THE BRINK OF CAVING IN ON ITSELF, BUT I SPEAK WITH A STALWART DETERMINATION THAT WILL RING TRUE THROUGHOUT THE COSMOS FOR SWEEPS TO COME. THEY WILL WRITE MY FUCKING WORDS IN THE STARS, DAVE. IT’LL BE ALL THEY HAVE LEFT OF ME EVENTUALLY, BECAUSE I’LL PREACH IT HARD AND FEVERISH UNTIL THIS MORTAL COIL DECIDES IT’S FINALLY HAD ENOUGH OF PUTTING MY PATHETIC HALF-CORPSE THROUGH THE RINGER BY MAKING ME GET UP EVERY MORNING LIKE IT’S SOME KIND OF JOKE, AND FINALLY LETS ME KEEL OVER. THAT, DAVE, IS MY CRUCIFIXION. IT REPEATS ITSELF, OUROBOROS-LIKE, EVERY CYCLE, AND MAY WELL LAST UNTIL THE COLLAPSE OF PARADOX SPACE ITSELF SINCE THEY APPARENTLY FIND IT SO INCREDIBLY HILARIOUS. THEY BETTER MARTYR THE FUCK OUT OF ME. YOU BETTER PERSONALLY SEE TO IT THAT I AM MARTYRED TO *SHIT*.
TG: done and done
CG: THANK YOU. WHERE WAS I? OH RIGHT. NARUTO SHIP ANALYSIS.
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Hazbin Hotel headcanons
TW: Mentions of sex and alcohol. some suggestive themes that's it, it's mostly just fluff.
(English isn't my first language)
Charlie
-Will do anything for you.
-you want flowers? Done. You saw a cute stuffed animal in the store front and you want it? You got it. Somebody harassed you on the streets and you want them punished? Let her take care of it. Normally she's against violence, but when it comes to protecting you? She'll do anything.
-will sing to you, all the time
-made a special song that she sings to you when you've had a bad day
-the best listener ever.
-will sit and listen to you talk for hours
-if she needs to get to work early, she'll make you breakfast and leave you a note that says something like:
-hi, good morning lovely! I hope you sleep well.
I had to leave early.. something happened at the hotel while Alastor was away, and they needed me.
See you 2night, i love you:)<3
-i think her love languages are physical touch and words of affirmation
Angel Dust
-whisper's provocative things to you during meetings
-definitely a physical touch kind of guy.
-Will cling to you at the most random times
-keeps Valentino as far away from you as possible.
-tries his best to keep his relationships hidden from him as well
-if you'd come home after a long day, he'd give you a massage
-is super funny, tell me otherwise.
-has a high sex drive, and is pretty kinky due to his job.
-so expect him to ring you up at the most unexpected times.
-PS. Don't put him on speaker when you're in public..
Vaggie
-was pretty cautious around you in the beginning, but slowly warms up to you
-once she's comfortable, she tells the wildest stories and acts them out for you
-if you don't know how to fight, she'll teach you
-if you do know how to fight, you guys spar all the time
-jealousy issues, and you can't tell me other wise.
-she hears someone talk to you in a tone she doesn't like? Glare. Someone low-key flirting with you? Glare. If looks could kill.. she will actually kill them though, so..
-not super experienced in bed, but she's open to suggestions
-once she finds something she likes/is comfortable with, she askes you for it all the time
-a "words of affirmation" and "acts of service" girl for sure
Alastor
(i am perfectly aware he's ace, but these are scenario's for if he wasn't, don't come for me)
-now, Alastor is a great dancer.
-he has great music taste too!
-listens to 1940's and below.
-i think he's mostly into Jazz and Classical music to be honest
-i do think Amy Winehouse and Dave Brubeck are his exceptions when it comes to listening to 1950's and above
-somehow always knows where you are..? You often see his shadows follow you, so that's probably why
-kills for you. Also because he has a thirst for blood, that needs to be satisfied. So that's 2 birds with one stone
-holds doors open for you
-just a general gentleman
-loves it when you wear dark red, dark blue and dark green
-it can be anything. Lipstick (just red though), a hat, a dress, heels, etc.
-expects you to respect his personal space but doesn't respect yours LMFAO
-gift giving and physical touch
Husk
-knows all your favorite drinks
-loves to dance with you
-also a Jazz person, but I don't think he'd mind country music to be honest
-once he secretly took a picture of you.
-he thought you looked so good, he keeps it in his nightstand.
-doesn't really talk about his problems/feelings, but prefers it if you do.
-respects your boundaries more than anyone.
-you don't wanna talk? He'll kiss your forehead, and leave you alone.
-you don't really like being touched? He'll always ask first.
-other than making amazing alcoholic drinks, he makes great coffee too!
-quality time and physical touch.
It's been quite a while since i've written something, so I apologize if there's any grammar mistakes or sentences that just don't make any sense LOL
Thank you for reading!
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin alastor#hazbin husk#hazbin vaggie#hazbin angel dust#hazbin charlie#x reader#fluff#alastor x reader#husk x reader#angel dust x reader#charlie x reader#vaggie x reader#x reader fluff
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hey can i request a fic where hotch comes into work with hickeys littering his neck(with or without realising) and the team teases him for it?
Btw love your work!!! <3
This is what he gets for letting you readjust his tie. His collar had been crisp and perfectly placed when he'd glanced in the mirror, but you'd loosened his tie before leaving to press kisses to his throat that were supposed to be quick and chaste, and ended up being anything but. He hasn't thought twice about the state of his neck since he'd left, distracted and hazy by the kiss you'd shared just before he'd walked out the door. It took him the entire ride to work to get his boner under control, and when he walks into the building he pushes the last of his untimely fantasies into the back of his brain. It's not Y/N time now, it's work time, and he needs to act accordingly.
He meets Garcia in the elevator, who greets him, then snickers with an, 'oop!'. He's not sure why, but he sees her shift on her heels and presumes she's tripped slightly.
"You alright?" He glances at her out of the corner of his eye, frowning worriedly.
"Uh, yes. Sir. I'm fine." She grins, smile growing despite her eyes being locked on his. He's utterly confused by her behavior, but then again, he's often confused by her behavior.
They walk together into the office, but don't speak. He holds the door out for her, and she lingers in the bullpen instead of heading for her lair.
"Everyone," She calls, and Hotch hesitates to head towards his office, "Hotch is here."
His team members glance up from their paperwork, then straighten in their seats with shit-eating grins. Reid looks slightly horrified, and Derek nearly chokes on a sip of coffee.
"Garcia," Hotch murmurs, "Why are you announcing my arrival? I'm here every morning."
"I just wanted everyone to know," She smiles, "Today's a special day."
"Why is today special?" He takes the bait, and Rossi answers for her.
"Because we'll probably get off early," Dave teases, "You look like you're in a good mood today."
"I would be," JJ snorts, "So, you saw Jack's babysitter last night?"
"Jack's- Jack's babysitter!" Garcia gushes, and Prentiss laughs, "Oh, wow."
Aaron narrows his eyes at the group, "What are you talking about?"
"Here you go, sir." JJ hands over a compact mirror with powder packed beneath it, "It's not your shade, but it'll have to do."
He takes the mirror from her like it's personally offended him. He's not used to being out of the loop, and when he glares at the offending item, he notices a dark purple splotch by his collar that clicks everything into place.
"Oh, there it is!" Derek jeers, watching his face shift from disapproving, to surprised, to mortified, to livid, "That was priceless, we should've filmed that."
"None of you are getting off early today," Hotch snaps, shoving the compact mirror back into JJ's hand as they let loose. There's cheers, whoops, laughter floating around the bullpen, and he turns his back on it to storm towards his office, "In fact, I want you all working overtime tonight!"
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner scenario#aaron hotchner oneshot#aaron hotchner one-shot#aaron hotchner one shot#aaron hotchner headcanon#aaron hotchner headcanons#aaron hotchner hc#aaron hotchner hcs#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner dialogue#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction
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Day 1 Warm Up
What up my fellow followers, it me Dave and we're back with another test! So I have signed up for muscle growth muscle expansion thing whatever they call and it supposed to make my body bigger, especially my pec.
As you all already know that I'm a pretty big guy myself, spend most of my time training and working out to be this huge, apparently those guy give and single pill and in 20 day my body will double or triple it size. It sounds like bullshit and hard to believe but I willing to test it out for my followers since you guys recommend so much.
I already use the pill before the recording so if you want to know if it work or not, remember to follow and hit the notification so you won't miss it.
Day 8 Milker
Hey there guy is Dave here! so as you already know it been 8 day since I try out the growing pill and to my surprise, it really work!
I mean just look at my huge pec! they massive! It been quite hard to find clothes that fit my current stage but it doesn't bother me that much.
What do bother me is heaviness my pec are, when I squeeze them with my hand it felt really soft not as hard as I thought. Sometimes I even feel something wet at my nibbles but it could be me sweating the shit out cause the weather been hit lately.
Day 14 Sunday Morning
We are back with another blog and as you guys can see I having some difficult time finding a shirt since my pec are too big. And recently picked up some habits to be more healthy and keep fit that why my skin look a bit tan or darker, so in my last blog some of you assume that my pec started producing milk and believe me it sounds crazy but I did test it out by squeezing and massaging it and slowly milk starts to come out my nibbles.
I felt really good after that but there no way I'm living like this, people will call me a cow and teasing me for it. I report the situation to the place but they didn't respond so I'm kinda worried, you guy wish me luck.
Day 20 Final Day
GUYS!! You have to help me! it been a couple day since my last blog and just look at me! a completely different person!
I signed up for growing bigger muscle not becoming a horny cow person. My pec is just too big and heavy to the point I can't stand up straight anymore cause they are weighing me down and my skin are literally black now!
This morning I wake up and you guys know what happened? MILK was everywhere! but that not all, my cock is tiny now! it wasn't like this yesterday and when I try to touch it, no response but my pec was getting harder and sensitive like how a penis would act when hard.
I don't know what to do at this point, I try to send them a full email explaining what happened just to realize the site were gone like never existed in the first place.... Maybe it best to getting use to this situation.
Who know maybe having big muscular pec that can produce milk isn't so bad, on the bright side I could possibly sell my milk and gain some money.
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THEY Came and Conquered
It was just like any normal day when THEY arrived here on Earth! Dave had been spending another morning holed up in the office when a commotion erupted down the hall. His coworkers got up to investigate, but before anyone knew it, THEY had arrived. Soon, the previously quiet office was filled with screams of terror!
Dave fought the little green creatures off for as long as he could, but they were just too fast, jumping from floor to ceiling with their long slimy appendages. One of those intruders eventually slung itself past Dave's defenses and smacked him square in the face. He was sent flying to the ground.
Unfortunately for Dave, and pretty much everyone else on Earth, THEY came here to take over the planet. Their plan: use the human species as empty hosts for their own bidding.
With the alien squeezing tighter and tighter around Dave's face, his panic was quickly sucked out of his head. His thoughts and personality were slowly drained out as well, leaving him as nothing more than an empty husk for the alien to puppet around. Everything that made him Dave the Employee was replaced by the whims of the foreign parasite now attached to his skull.
Logan faced the same fate as Dave. He'd been in the middle of jackhammering some concrete when THEY showed up. He didn't even notice the attack until it was too late!
One of the aliens attached itself firmly to his head and began emptying everything inside. Within a few minutes, Logan's fear and panic were gone. He was just an extension of that alien's body now. His muscular arms and legs were just new additions to that alien's array of appendages.
The strange thing is that THEY can only bond with male humans. They have no ability to take over female bodies, so the girls of Earth were all able to pull the creatures off and stomp them like a bug. The men of Earth weren't that lucky. Within a month, nearly 87% of the world's masculine population was taken over, but that number continues to grow every day.
Logan the Construction Worker was the first of many. Within a few minutes, his entire construction crew was also converted. Within an hour, every man outside in the open was claimed. By the end of the day, every guy Logan had ever known had joined him as a hijacked servant of these foreign creatures.
Mitchell was able to evade the slimy little creatures for a bit longer, but even his athletic legs couldn't carry him fast enough. A pack of the aliens cornered him in the middle of a basketball court, and he had nowhere to run.
Mitchell's eyes glazed over as the parasite sucked out his mind. THEY had no use for a human's inferior vision when their own eyes can see 20x better. The alien mainly needed Mitchell's body for it's size, strength, and reproductive abilities...
...not human reproduction: THEY're reproduction. You see, the aliens reproduce by mixing an enzyme made from two parasite-host pairs. That's why the aliens need to find a host to attach to, and that's why every man converted into one of their hosts is constantly dripping from his mouth.
Mitchell's jaw hung slack as his parasite kicked his salivary glands into overdrive. Within mere seconds, drool was pouring from his zombified mouth, ready for another parasite-host pair to reproduce with.
It just so happened that Dave the Office Worker was there with Logan the Construction Worker. Obviously, it wasn't really either of them. They were just puppetted to walk there by their alien masters. The pair were still wearing the same clothes they'd had on a month ago when they were converted! The men had become rather ripe, but the aliens didn't have much need for hygiene.
Now that THEY had full control over the three men, the aliens began their reproductive ritual, generating even more enzymes within each of the humans' mouths. Now the only thing left was to mix. THEY relaxed and brought their human hosts close to each other, mashing their slippery mouths together in a disturbing mockery of a human kiss. It wasn't intimate it wasn't pleasant; it was transactional.
Neither Dave, Logan, or Mitchell were gay, but the aliens had no concept of sexuality. THEY just needed their host's bodies to sloppily exchange DNA for the next 24 hours and their job would be done. New alien life would spring forth from the act, and THEY would go find anotber host/parasite hybrid to mate with.
Earth as we know it was certainly over. Mankind was under the thumb of some slimy green aliens, and the resistance was quickly dwindling. Eventually, every man on Earth would be claimed and put to good use, producing even more of the alien kind.
THEY certainly came and THEY certainly conquered...
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𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄.
DAY TWO OF HAUNTED HOEDOWN
prompt: murder plot au (lets kill this person together) + "crawl to me"
pairing: childhood best friend!dave york x f!reader
genre: explicit smut, minors dni
summary: The only good thing about coming back home with your fiance is getting to see Dave York again, your best friend since you were four.
word count: 4.6k
warnings: angst, abusive fiance, verbally abusive family, hurt/comfort, neighbor au, childhood friends to lovers, oral (fem receiving), dacryphilia, blood, you and dave kill your fiance, then crawl to him because why not, soft gun kink, possessive!dave
a/n: this is not edited at all but I hope you guys enjoy it anyway
The only good thing about coming back home is getting to see Dave York.
His family moved in when you were four, and you've been close friends ever since. Both of you moved away at around the same time; he became a CIA operative and got married, while you were still trying to figure yourself out. Your family wasn't supportive of this "self-discovery" stage in your life, which didn't really surprise you. They had never been supportive, always reminding you of your failures.
Then you met Chris, got engaged, and for the first time, your family was happy. Shortly after, you heard about Dave's parents passing away, followed swiftly by the CIA terminating his program. His divorce had been finalized earlier this year. You called him, letting him know that if he needed anything, he should reach out. He assured you he'd be okay, finding other work and moving back into his parents' home.
Ever since you heard he was back, you've been excited.
But now that you’re here, standing at his door, you feel like you’re four again. Butterflies erupt in your stomach, their wings tickling you from the inside out. How long has it been since you’d last seen him? It’s been too long, for sure.
Dave is one of those friends that you could just continue from where you left off no matter how long time had passed. It’s just like pressing the pause button on a remote. It doesn’t require effort to feel close to him again, and you’re glad of it. Dave had been your rock during your teenage years, when you’d been adamant about crying yourself to sleep, he would throw pebbles at your window. It would always surprise you how he’s just known you needed him. It didn’t take you much convincing to leave your room and the two of you would venture on into the darkness until morning. Your parents non the wiser.
Those nights were your favorite.
Heat licks at your spine, the tips of your ears burning when your mind drifts to a night that smelled of the salty sea. If you think about it hard enough you can still feel the sand caressing your back while Dave pushed deep inside you, his mouth feasting on your neck as the waves tickled your feet.
God, you’d give anything to return to that night.
Taking in a sharp breath, you finally knock on the door. The sound echoes and soon, you hear steps coming closer and closer, every thud making your heart skip a beat.
With the door opening, you feel a gentle rush of cool air caressing your face, a scent that smells so purely of Dave following through. Without noticing you take a deep breath, filling your lungs with the familiar smell. Your eyes flutter shut. In hindsight, thinking about the night you lost your virginity probably wasn’t smart. You wonder if it would still feel as good.
When you open your eyes, he’s staring at you with an amused smile, eyes twinkling like he knows the precise memory you’re thinking about.
“Dave!” you exclaim and throw your arms around his broad neck. He's bigger now, taller, and notably more muscular. He hugs your tight and lifts you slightly off the ground, your toes brushing against the patio, biceps flexing against your frame.
He squeezes you one last time before loosening his grip, your body slides against his, your tight nipples brushing against the width of his chest. A gasp parts your lips, a gentle tremor to your legs. You purposefully brush your nose into the crook of his neck and take a deep breath in. “God, I missed you,” you murmur.
“I’ve missed you too,” his hands remain on your waist, eyes briefly scanning to see if there’s anyone with you. When he sees there’s no one, he raises a sole brow. “I thought your fiance came with you?”
Despite yourself, your frown is instant, your stomach clenching painfully, “He did,” you answer. “He’s with mom and dad, getting pampered.”
“Ah,” he clicks his tongue. “Sounds fun. So. . . they like him?”
“Surprisingly yes,” you smile. “I don’t think I could’ve brought him here otherwise.”
He hums and pulls himself back, you want to follow his touch but stay rooted in place.
“I’m a bit worried if your folks like him so much,” he scratches his chin. “Do you like him?”
The question gets under your skin, festering inside of you like a nasty wound. You look away. “He’s okay,” you say dismissively and quickly force a smile. “ “Do you want to join us for dinner?”
Dave’s question had bothered you more than you thought.
You’ve never had anyone burn for you, never had anyone willing to move heaven and earth for you, never had anyone who’d do anything to see you smile. You never experienced the love you’ve read about in books, and after a while, you just stopped looking for it. Women like you don’t receive that kind of love; women like you don’t get the hero or a prince.
After you’ve found Chris, you thought that’d be as good as it’ll get.
Honestly, you were quite surprised when he proposed, your relationship was mediocre at best. You blamed yourself for thinking like that. You’d always been a dreamer. Someone who had their head in the clouds. And since your parents loved him so much, you were inclined to say yes. Not because your parents controlled your every move or something like that, it was just nice for them to finally spare a compliment, even though the said compliment was depending on you finding someone that would typically not spare a glance at someone like you—according to them.
You head for the kitchen, helping your mother set the table. She says nothing as she shoves four plates into your waiting arms. You drag your feet to the dining room.
It shouldn’t have surprised you that the things you disliked about Chris only heightened after the engagement. Sarcastic remarks and condescending tones turned into full dismissal of your opinions and talents. Venomous comments that were made behind closed doors became a part of his normal interaction with you among friends and family. No one seemed to care. Only a couple of friends had come to warn you, or offer help, but you felt ashamed, embarrassed to reach out to people who didn’t know how mess of a person you were—how broken. They didn’t know that to a degree, you might’ve deserved the insults.
Unlike Dave, talking to Chris wasn’t easy. It was a constant mental exercise and took the fun in being with someone. You had to be sharp always, if not, he’d happily remind you how worthless you are in the guise of a joke.
Letting out a sigh, you place the last plate down on the table. Chris comes up from behind you, sneaking his arms underneath your own and tugging you to his chest.
“What are you sulking about?” he asks, the lips that touch your skin making you flinch. “
“You know it’s hard for me coming back here,” you answer. “I kinda wished you’d hang around instead of hanging out with my dad.”
Much to your relief, Chris pulls away, “I like your dad,” he says. “Besides they’ve been nothing but kind to me so I don’t get why you want me to treat them like a beast I need to defeat.”
Your eyes drop to his hands. He’s flexed his fingers outwards and balled them into fists. The rest of him is calm, relaxed, every part of him except for his hands. Your body goes rigid. You don’t know what to say to him. You’ve explained your childhood a million times; a mother who reminded you of every physical flaw, a father who just wasn’t around, only showing up during important accomplishments. You understand why Chris likes them so much, the three of them are basically the same.
“I’m not telling you to fight with them,” you murmur. “Just wanted some support because they’re not kind to me.”
“God, what do you expect?” he rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. “They have a daughter who’s still trying to ‘figure things out’. Be grateful you’re not my daughter, I'd be furious.”
“It’s not like I’m taking their money,” your gaze snaps to him, piercing. “Nor yours, for that matter. So I can do whatever I want.”
He whistles, lips curling into a nasty grin, “Someone’s feeling courageous. I thought you needed my support? Seems like you’re able to defend yourself just fine.”
You hear the blood rush in your ears, your knees shaking with frustration. It’s always the same—that smug look he gets whenever you decide to stand up for yourself.
Your lips pressed tight, you turn your head away. He’s right to a degree though. You’re feeling surprisingly brave for someone who’s been silent for months— as if by the night you won’t be climbing into his bed. You have a sense of why that is. Dave always made you want to believe in yourself, unlike the ones closest to you, he made you think you were worth the trouble even though you know you probably aren’t.
The silence growing between you, Chris closes the distance with a short amount of steps, he hooks two fingers under your chin, and forces your gaze back to him, “No no, don’t go silent now. I like it.”
The tension in the air suffocates you. It tastes like poison on your tongue. Chris draws mockingly soft circles over your skin, taunting you. You don’t feel small, not exactly, you just feel powerless, as if he’s ten feet tall. Your teeth bites into the smooth surface of your inner cheek. He leans closer and his breath hits your face. He’s going to kiss you, you’ve enjoyed plenty of those kisses in the past but right now you’re the furthest away from ever wanting him to kiss you.
A loud knock intervenes perfectly.
But Chris doesn’t pull away.
“That’s right, we were expecting company weren’t we?” he rolls his tongue. “Who was it again? Your childhood friend?”
“Dave,” you breathe out, relief swarming you like soft feathers. Chris is about to pull away so you can go answer the door but before he gets the chance the door opens with a soft click.
Both of you turn towards the sound. Dave stands at the threshold holding a bottle of wine, eyes flitting between your and Chris.
“Hey, there,” Chris chirps, all of his fault behavior disappearing into the air. “You must be Dave, nice to meet you!” he extends a hand. Dave, is eyes still fixed on you, accepts your fiance’s hand and squeezes it. Tight.
“Nice to meet you. Chris, was it?”
“Right on,” Chris walks around him and shuts the door. “Let’s head to the dining room, we’re about to eat. Isn’t that right?”
It takes you a moment to realize the question is directed at you.
“Right,” you murmur, your eyes dropping away from Dave’s. “I’ll go check with mom. Be back in a sec.”
Just as you’re about to leave, Dave’s voice stops you, “Need any help?” the tension that dissolved settles back over your shoulders. You turn slightly, enough to see him. A brief shadow crosses his face, making home in his eyes—you blink. You find yourself swallowing hard as his gaze causes your throat to contract.
“I’m good thanks. Make yourself comfortable.”
You haven't cried in months. Not when Chris taunted you, not when your mother made unnecessary comments about how you should be. None of it fazed you anymore. Not the same way it did when you were a kid.
So why are your eyes suddenly teared up now, struggling to hold back?
“Mom, stop it.”
All eyes turn to you; Chris’s, your father’s and Dave’s. You swallow around the knot lodged in your throat. You mother narrows her eyes, lips a tight line.
“Stop what?” she asks, voice strained. “I just said I can help you threading those stuborn hairs above your lip.”
Embarrassment settling at the base of your spine, you cover your mouth with your hand, absolutely mortified. You fight the urge to squeeze your eyes shut and instead attempt to calm your racing heart. You can’t tell if you’re overreacting or not. Your mom rolls her eyes, waving a hand, she dismisses your emotions entirely. A tremor overhwhelmes you, starting from your legs and going all the way up to your shoulders. Dave’s sitting right next to you, his expression indifferent, calculating. He’s the last person you want to look at right now, finally you two meet up again after years only for him to see that nothing’s changed.
“You and Dave have been friends since four, I doubt he cares if I mention it. It’s for your benefit,” she shrugs and turns to Chris, placing a hand on his arm. “Don’t worry, dear. I’ll be sure she’s proper by the time of the wedding. She’s always been horrible at stuff like this, I never understood why.”
Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.
Your ears are ringing.
Tears well in your eyes once more, the need to throw up overhwhelming you.
“I’m not a prized calf, mom. I don’t need your help.”
Her eyes turn back to you, momentraily dropping to your plate before looking back up again. “Have you decided on a dress?”
Your brain short circuits for a moment. You want to throw your fork at her as always your dad is silent, and Chris is no help whatsoever. Sometimes you feel as if he enjoys this visits. Enjoys making you see that he’s not all that bad—or he justs enjoys using it as an excuse to show that if everyone in your life behaves like this, something must be wrong with you.
Then, suddenly, there’s a soothing presence on your knee.
Dave.
He squeezes twice, then circles his thumb over your knee, replacing the anxiety with pleasant tingles. You blink with surprise and turn to look at him but he’s staring at your dad, you hadn’t even realize the conversation had shifted from you to something else entirely.
Dave leans into your ear, his breath welcome as it ghosts your skin, “Breathe,” he whispers. “And excuse yourself from the table. I’ll find you.”
Your nod is barely noticable. You do as he says, excusing yourself and heading upstairs. No one really took notice of your absence, they believes you to be dramatic and they were no strangers to you suddenly deserting the table.
You sigh as you climb the stairs and instead of your shared bedroom with Chris, you head to your childhood bedroom.
Climbing into your old bed, you pull the pillow to your front and wrap your arms around it. Street light stretches shadows into your room. You remember the times you stared into Dave’s bedroom, how he’d talk to you through giant notes.
Ten minutes later, your door opens.
“Hey, are you alright?” he asks, every word spoken carefully, scared you’ll bolt through the door like a spooked deer. He pushes the door closed and takes a seat at the end of your bed. You notice his eyes scanning the bedroom. “Brings back memories,” he mutters.
“Yeah,” you nod, hugging your pillow tighter. “Bet you didn’t miss the mess downstairs though.”
“To be honest I got a little preview before you and Chris arrived,” the muscle above his jaw twitches. “Your parents really haven’t changed in the slightest.”
“Too bad they didn’t die instead of your parents—” you cut yourself short, clamping a hand over your mouth. What the fuck is wrong with you? “Shit sorry–I didn’t—”
He says nothing. Instead he wraps his fingers around your ankle and tugs your leg over his lap, “Don’t be. I wish the same thing too sometimes,” he lets out a breath. “Never would’ve thought you’d get engaged with the combination of both of them though.”
Shame. All you feel is shame.
You slightly tug at your leg but he doesn’t allow you to recoil from him. “Let me help you,” he says, taking you by surprise.
“Help me?” you ask. Without thinking you let go of your pillow and move towards him, entranced by the way the light sharpens the edges of his face. “Help me how?”
“Let’s kill the fucker.”
“W-What?!” surely you didn’t hear him right. You shake your head. “Did you just say kill?”
With a tender brush of his lips against yours, the world falls away. A doft whimper echoes in your throat and he presses forward, the tip of his thumb tracing the seam of your lips. You open wide for him, allowing Dave to lick deeper into your mouth. Your tongue press together, years of longing and wait adding to the kiss like salt in chocolate. You don’t ever want it to stop.
“I still hear the waves from that night,” he murmurs, soft pillowy lips brushing against your own. “Tell me to stop and I will. But if you want this, want me—All you have to do is say the word.”
Again, tears well in your eyes. It’s sudden and uncomfortable. You choke on the words you attempt to speak, shaking your head violentls as a shudder rolls down your spine. He presses a comforting palm on your cheek. “Dave I’m a mess,” you hiccup.
“So am I,” he says matter-of-factly, he grinds the pad of his thumb into your cheekbone. “You can cry, sweetheart. I’m here for you.”
Before you get the chance you’re being pushed back against the mattress. He slowly tugs down your pants, removing them enreily and leaving you in nothing but your underwear. He stares at you like you’re everything he wants and needs. Your skin prickles, his words finally settling in.
This man wanted to kill for you.
And not a bone in your body wants to object to it.
“You’re not broken,” He pushes your shirt up, laying a kiss on your stomach, a bit of tongue following the purse of lips. “Every part of you is perfect, tender, and right.”
The damns break with a hiccup. Tears flow effortlessly down your cheeks; salty drops going down your neck and being absorbed into the fabric underneath. You swallow, over and over, it’s difficult to breathe, so hard to catch your breath while your eyes never seem to dry out.
Dave hovers above you, arms caging in your head. His gaze reminds you of a curious cat, wide, observant. He leans in and with the flat of his tongue, he tastes the sadness on your skin. He follows the traces down your neck, nose caressing your jaw as he licks all of it away. You feel the thick outline of his cock against your bare stomach, arousal heats between your legs and when you arc your back, he groans at the way you soft flesh grazes his length.
He moves lower and lower, kissing a trail from between your breasts and all the way down to your quivering cunt. He tastes your through your underwear that dampened with arousal. Dave pushes his tongue, forcing himself deeper, groaning at your taste before pushing the fabric down to your knees.
“I couldn’t help you back when we were kids—with your family,” he mutters into you, his breath chilling your wet folds. “Let me help you now.”
His lips trace your folds, slipping his tongue and kissing your where no one has ever kissed befor leisurely. Dave takes his time with it, slipping his tongue and pulling it back like he’d do with your mouth. Your crying subdues into loud sniffles and his hand reaches out, cupping your chin. “Cry for me, baby. Don’t hide your sadness from me.” his grip tightens and nips the sensitive flesh right under your pelvic bone. “Cry.”
You do so with a hitch of breath. However, your cries swiftly shift into moans when he closes his lips around your clit, sucking loudly at the sensitive nub. Your legs brackets his face, with a smile he spreads them open with both hands, moving his jaw as he glides his lips back down, pushing his tongue against your pulsing entrance.
“You know what my biggest regret has been all this time?” he muses, the words don’t register but you nod anyway. He brings a hand to your mound and slips a finger in, curling it knuckle deep. Your chest heaves at the pressure, making your entire upper body jolt. “Not tasting this sweet pussy the first time we were together.”
Daves crawls back up, pressing lips to your neck and then to your cheek where the tear streaks had begun to dry. “I wanted to do so many things that night, but you were looking at me with those big beautiful eyes, completely in love. . .” he takes a deep breath, and growls as he exhales. “I wanted to ruin you but I coudn’t, I didn’t want you to think that was all I wanted from you.”
“What about now?” you gasp, gaining a moment of clarity. He chuckles, the sound resonating deep from his chest.
“Now,” he purrs and goes down you again, licking a fat stroke into your cunt. “I still want to ruin you. And I will. But you’ll know that’s not all I want. Isn’t that true, my sweet girl.”
Again, your vision blurs with tears.
“Answer me.”
“Yes,” you stare at the ceiling, your eyes drying out whilst tears still drip from the corners. “I know that’s not all you want. Please, Dave, ruin me. I’m yours.”
“I know you are, sweetheart,” his tongue delves between your soaked folds, the curve of his nose causing delicious friction against your clit. Pleasure tightens in your stomach, your inner walls squeezing his finger tight. “You’ve been mine ever since I laid eyes on you.”
He sucks and slurps, moving his head from side to side as he quickly brings you to the edge. His mouth feels so damn good, and the raw emotions coursing through your veins only add to the pleasure, heightening your senses. You cry out as he pulls out his finger, only to replace it with his tongue, pushing deep. When you look down the bottom half of his face is buried gully into your pussy, the only visible movement being his jawline moving.
Sweat beads at your forehead. Your heart is pounding, your breath ragged as Dave increases the tempo of his tongue, exploring every inch of you greedily. His fingers seemed to have a mind of their own, rubbing and massaging your clit expertly and sending sparks of pleasure electrifying through your body. The sensation is overwhelming - so much pleasure, it's almost too much.
The pleasure builds and builds until it feels like it is consuming every inch of you, making it hard to remember that your family—or Chris—might hear you. You close your eyes and let out a moan as Dave continues to work his magic. Your back arches as the pleasure intensifies, and each breath feels like a jolt of lightning shooting through your body.
“Let them here, baby,” he rasps, briefly parting from you. “You’re mine now. They should know.”
You throw your head back, crying out in pleasure, as it finally sweeps over you. Every muscle in your body tightens as the intense waves of pleasure ripple through you, and you clutch desperately at Dave, gripping his shoulders until the convulsions of pleasure finally die down. He hums happily, not letting up as he licks every inch of you clean.
Dave works his mouth on your clit, tongue swirling around it lightly, then licks and sucks it hard, sending wave after wave of pleasure through you until the tide of orgasm crashes over you again and leaves you trembling. Dave doesn't stop until every last bit of pleasure has been wrung from your body, until you can do nothing, nothing but lie there and process what just happened.
When Dave finally does stop, you can barely move your limbs. He drapes himself over you, his warmth calming your raging heart.
“Invite him to my place tomorrow,” he says. “I’ll take care of the rest.”
“Wouldn’t my parents get suspicious?”
“If they do,” he kisses your eyes one by one, still wet and aching but done with the tears. “I’ll take care of them too.”
You hate to admit but Chris looks good tied in a chair all bloody and bruised.
“Fucking tell him to let me go,” he barks at you but his pleas are cut short when Dave comes behind him and yanks his head by the hair. He yelps in pain, eyes squeezing shut when Dave presses the barrel of the gun into his neck. “You two are fucked in the head,” he murmurs. “Just let me go, I won’t say anything.”
Your body becomes rigid, tense. You don’t regret this, and it feels good to finally see him break. He’s been doing the same to you for months. Belittling you and finding amusement in treating you like thrash.
Dave’s gaze finds your own, you find it hard to look away.
“Come here,” he says voice growing soft. “Don’t be afraid of him, sweetheart, he can’t hurt you anymore.”
Despite all his fear, Chris still manages to glare at you. “You could’ve just broken up with me. It’s your fault.”
“Mine?” you finally say, your voice hoarse. “I didn’t feel like I had a choice. You made sure of that.”
“You’re not thinking clearly—”
Dave’s voice cuts through the air.
“I’ve had enough.”
He pulls the trigger.
The bullet leaves the barrel of the gun in complete silence.
You don’t even flinch when Chris’s head drops, blood pouring from between his lips and down his chest. Dave doesn’t bat an eye as he sits on the end of the bed. You’re left standing in front of Chris, not looking at him directly, but hearing the last of the gushing sounds of the bullet wound.
You should feel remorse.
But all you feel is relief that he’s gone.
The realization makes you drop down to your knees, you hear the bed creak as Dave attempts to get up but you stop him with the raise of your hand. “I’m okay,” you gasp. “Just. . . in shock.” you turn to him. “Are. . . are you okay?”
“Okay as I’ll ever be,” gun still in hand, over his thigh, he spreads his legs as he settles back down. Your eyes are immediately drawn to the gun, a sudden hunger flashing in your eyes. His lips stretch into a grin, his hands sliding to hand loose over the inside of his thighs, he gestures for you to come closer with the gun. “Crawl to me.”
A thrill shoots up your spine. You move slowly, crawling towards him until you are close enough for him to reach out and touch you. You watch him carefully, studying the gun still clenched in his hand before meeting his gaze. You settle yourself at his feet, never taking your eyes away from his.
Dave slowly reaches out and takes your chin gently in his hand, guiding your mouth closer to where the gun rests. He leans down, his face inches away from yours, and whispers, “You want to taste the weapon that ended that shit-heads’ life?”
You take a deep breath and nod.
Before he can give the command, you open your mouth wide, sticking your tongue out.
His pupils dilate as he guides the barrel into your mouth, against the flat surface of your tongue. It’s cold and the metallic taste overwhelms you but you enjoy it. Dave pushes deeper until you’re gagging, you close your lips around it, your eyes dropping where his finger still rests on the trigger.
“Look at that,” he murmurs, mesmerized. “Your life is in my hands, all it’ll take to end it is one trigger.”
You moan at the thought, you’re wholly his, and nothing can stop that now.
Dave touches your cheek with his other hand, his fingers kind.
“I’ll treat it with care.”
#dave york x reader#dave york x you#dave york x female reader#dave york x f!reader#pedro pascal characters#the equalizer 2 fanfic#dave york fanfic#dave york smut#hauntedhoedown
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Can I request yandere 🦌 Alastor 🦌 x reader where its like phantom of the opera or phantom of the radio? Alastor sometimes haunts his old radio station in his free time and falls in love with the intern reader and her voice and she mostly just gets everyone's coffee but he wants to hear her voice on the radio so he uses his "skills" to push her up the ranks from weather girl to co-host then after a while of being co-host she gets real popular and the radio host starts to flirt with her so Alastor drags her to hell to be his personal co-host and at first the reader is scared and confused but later accepts it and likes him?
The Point of No Return
Amazing request! I love the idea behind this and hope I did it justice.
TW: Mentions of murder, creepy man, Alastor being scary
He wasn't sure when he started coming back to his old radio tower. He wasn't sure when he started slinking into the shadows and making his way up from hell to observe the living. He knew why he kept coming back though.
She was beautiful. She had shiny (h/c) hair, big (e/c) eyes, and freckles that dotted her face the way the stars dotted the sky. Everything about her was beautiful. Everything about her was gentle. She walked on the balls of her feet. She barely made a peep when she entered a room. She also went unacknowledged, but boy, were Alastor's eyes on her.
The first time he heard her speak, his dead heart stopped again. Her voice was soft, floaty. He never wanted her to stop speaking. He would've listened to her for hours, but unfortunately, she isn't the one broadcasting her sweet sound to the world.
Some cranky old man had taken over as New Orleans most prominent radio host. He ordered her around a lot. She was sent on coffee runs. She took notes, and she'd try to pitch her ideas, but often went unheard. If he were still alive, if the station was still his, he'd let her take over for him any time she so wished. She wouldn't be a mere intern, she'd be his cohost. They'd be partners. Alastor's face grew even redder.
Her voice was just too calming, too smooth. She needed to move up in the world. He could help her. She may not know him, but he knew her. He knew that she deserved a much higher position than the one she had. He could take care of that for her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Y/N wasn't expecting to get called into the station so early. She wasn't expecting her boss's panicked frenzy as he told her that her coworker, Dave, was found dead in his car that morning and that she needed to come in and take over his position for an indefinite amount of time.
She scurried into the office, a cup of coffee in her hand, plopped down at her new desk, and was immediately set to working on sorting through different stories that her station's host could report to the public.
They all seemed to be about the same thing. Copycat killers, all of whom followed in the footsteps of the Killer of the Bayou, sprouted up everywhere. He'd been dead for nearly 20 years. His name was Alastor, but other than that, the only thing she knew about him was that his story gave her the creeps.
She briefly wondered if one of the copycats killed Dave. Suddenly chilled to the bone, Y/N noticed the sun moved to hide behind the clouds for a moment before the station got brighter once more.
The police hadn't done an autopsy yet. Anything could have happened to Dave. She'd probably pick out the report for it that their radio host would read during the morning and afternoon news.
She was right. Just days later, she had to find the least gruesome report, and hesitated as she handed it over to Henry, their radio host. Dave was murdered, there was no question of that. He'd been strangled, but there were no finger prints, no rope fibers, no shoe prints in the mud by his car. It was like the killer ghosted through his murder without a trace.
She shivered. Was it cold in the station?
"Thanks, doll."
He sniffed once, wiping his snot with the back of his hand. She grimaced, tried to cover it with a smile, and politely nodded.
"Say, you got a real pretty voice. Would you maybe wanna use it? Jane's retiring soon. She did the weather. Glad to see her go, she was kind of a drag."
Y/N didn't want to be excited about the offer because Henry was awfully... unhygienic. She didn't want him to get any ideas with her either. Still, she couldn't stop the light from dancing its way into her eyes. She nodded eagerly, excited to finally get her chance to have their listeners hear her voice.
Each day, she'd come in and tell the people who tuned into their station that it'd be sunny, or rainy, or windy, or snowy. Each day, she slowly spent more and more time on the air. Eventually, Henry decided that she'd simply be promoted to his cohost.
She was appreciative, but apparently not nearly as appreciative as he would've liked. Henry got flirty. He'd compliment her clothes, her hair, and her shoes. He'd tell her how smart she was. At some point, the seemingly harmless compliments turned into him hitting on her.
"You've got a sexy voice, babe."
"Oh, um. Thank you, but please don't call me babe."
He took that pretty personally.
"Listen here, you little bitch. I'm the reason you have this job. You wouldn't be anybody without me. So why don't you be a good girl and keep your mouth shut."
He got closer and closer to her, and louder with each step. But just before he'd reached her, a large crack appeared in the floor. Tendrils of shadow slithered out of the crack, and a horrific looking man rose from the gaping red crevice.
"I believe the nice woman said "please". Now, I'd like you to say sorry."
The man was terrifying, with a short red bob, black eyes with glowing red pupils, large antlers growing from his head, and what appeared to be deer ears. Everything about him seemed very pointy.
"What the fuck?!" Henry screamed.
"Nope, those aren't the words I was looking for."
The shadowy tendrils that preceded the man shot out at Henry, wrapping themselves around his throat and pulling him from his feet, into the air. The man turned to face Y/N, a smile stretching the width of his face. His antlers shrunk down and when he blink, his sclera turned red. "Hello, my dear. I'm here to take you away."
"Where are we going?" Y/N trembled. The man's face looked very familiar, but she couldn't quite place a name to it.
"Hell, of course."
Hell? As in, the Bible's Hell? Y/N felt her heart stop.
"Who are you?"
His grin got even bigger. "Oh, I'm sure you recognize me, dear. You've been staring at my portrait for months."
She racked her brain, when an image from one of the papers she'd skimmed through flashed in her mind. Her blood ran cold. "Alastor. You're Alastor."
"Bingo! Now, let's go. I have somewhere to be tonight."
He grabbed her hand, and the two were forced through the ground. She screamed, and the noise was silenced as the crack in the floor sealed itself shut behind them.
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Can we have Dave as a total nerd who gets invited to his first highschool rager where he meets reader who's interested in him?
Parings: Dave Lizewski x Reader ₊ ⊹
A/N: Sorry for being gone I had no inspiration. I would make this a story but i’m scared to I trust myself doing little head-canons better :( also! Did y’all see the brawl in alabama !? 🪑
Warnings: Underage drinking, I pictured the characters around being 17-18 since they are in high school!! Dave is 18 reader is 18!!
• Well first of all we all know Dave is a huge nerd and kind of a loser, So how he even got invited to a rager is unknown.
• He decide to go, figured it would be better than spending his time away at home reading comics. Poor boy was lost and confused he did not know what to wear, he was stressed!
• He spent so much time trying to find an outfit at the end of it clothes was all over his bed and floor hangers were everywhere. All this mess just for him to go with the first outfit he had originally put on.
• Dave was so stressed out about absolutely everything he wanted to turn back and go home and read his comic books in the safety of his room.
• The music was far too loud teenagers were everywhere indulging in underage-drinking and dancing, some making out and practically having sex, gross.
• Dave was scared he couldn’t find the person who invited him so he just walked around, he grabbed a cup just to try and fit amongst everyone else at the party.
• Dave recognized some of the people from his school and decided to keep his head down to not embarrass himself in front of them. He noticed many jocks playing beer pong and cheering each other on.
• As he walked around he found comfort in a dark corner away from everyone. Dave would definitely just sit in the corner by himself and people watch, which is exactly what he did until some shirtless drunk dude accidentally slammed in to him, making him spill his beer all over his shirt.
• Dave tried to find a bathroom to clean off his shirt but all the bathrooms downstairs were occupied, so he went upstairs he tried finding the bathroom but instead walked in on a couple about to have sex. He was mortified, the girl threw her shoe and screamed at him to get out.
• once he found the bathroom he opened it without knocking (he didn’t learn his lesson) and walked in on you adjusting your dress,
“Dude what the fuck? Didn’t anyone teach you to knock?”
he was a stuttering mess while he apologized.
“Sorry-sorry i was just trying to-nothing never mind”
• when he was about to leave you stopped him telling him it was fine and you were done anyways. He couldn’t make eye contact with you he was so nervous he thought you were so pretty and his nostrils were overwhelmed by your sweet perfume. Was he drooling? probably.
• Before he could leave you stopped him.
“No, Sorry it’s fine I was done anyways. You okay? You seem like..uncomfortable?”
He was blushing and nervous, he grabbed some toilet paper and tried to clean the now almost dry beer off his shirt.
“Y-yeah? I’m fine-i’m cool just never been to one of these things before-and and…you’re really p-pretty and you smell really good..”
His smile and was cute and his glasses only added to how adorable he looked.
• When he heard your laugh he was done for! That man would’ve done anything you asked and he’d only spoken two sentences to you.
• “well..thanks uh —?”
“Dave my name-it’s uh Dave w-whats yours??”
“I’m —“
• You guys would probably spend 30 minutes talking in the bathroom and laughing, you can definitely tell this is not his scene like at all.
• “So Dave..do you want to give me your number? Or are you just gonna stare at me?”
his loser ass is so embarrassed!! He gives you his number and you guys text all night and morning.
#dave lizewski#dave lizewski x reader#dave is a loser#dave lizewski x you#dave lizewski x y/n#dave lizewski one shot#kick ass#kick ass 2#kick ass x reader#reader x dave lizewski#aaron taylor johnson x reader#aaron taylor johnson#atj x reader#aaron taylor johnson x y/n#aaron taylor johnson x you
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Sleep
Summary: Reader suffers from lack of sleep, caused by a recent event. As she continues to overwork herself, she reaches her breaking point with near disastrous results. Starring concerned!steve murphy, chaotic idiot!steve murphy and clueless!reader. javi has my fucking heart though.
Pairing: Javier Peña x reader (no use of y/n though)
Rating: M
Wordcount: 2.2k
Warnings: fluff, mild angst, sort of a panic attack, mild MILD allusions to someone being creepy (not javi though), mild flirting, humour, lots of swearing sorry
this is my first fic - let me know your thoughts! check me out on ao3
masterlist.
“I swear to fucking god Murphy, if you don’t stop bouncing your leg against the table, I’m slamming your head right into it” is the gospel that flows out of your mouth at 7 am on a Monday morning. Feels like it’s gonna be a great week.
“The hell did I do? You’d think Connie’s cookies would be enough to get you animals off my back, but no, first sign of any damn fire an’ the first person you’d throw in?” Steve huffs. “Murphy”, he repeats mockingly. You scoff and roll your eyes at him, clenching and unclenching your fists in an attempt to talk yourself down from strangling the idiot situated two feet to your left before turning back to the paperwork in front of you. The one-foot-tall, monster stack of paperwork. Right. In. Front. Of. You. And would the golden boys ever do it themselves? If they ever got a moment’s relief from jacking each other off during missions (or however the hell they manage to fumble practically every single little op), maybe. But most of the time, you were stuck with it. Because god forbid the two princesses you were partnered with ever had to so much as lift a pen themselves. Hell would freeze over.
And it isn’t like you mind. At all, really. Half your job is the paperwork, and you’re happy to get it in order - if only to avoid Noonan’s wrath. Besides, what good is an agent if they can’t do their fucking job? In its entirety; not the half-assed shit most of the men did around the embassy. But a single glimpse of yourself in the mirror while rushing to leave the house revealed that these past few weeks of skipping lunch breaks, going home late, and taking files home to work on have been catching up with you - sunken, bloodshot eyes, cracked lips, and bruises smudged under your eyes now, perpetually, since the nightmares had started. Anything to keep you busy, right?
Another aggravating side effect of the amount of work you had taken on apart from the usual? The constant irritation. Marlene’s new nails, Katie’s suspicious last lay, the stupid fucking demon alarm clock that never quite managed to wake you up, the busted tire, the broken coffee machine, Dave from accounting’s downright idiotic whistling, your pen running out of ink, and finally - Murphy’s bouncing knee banging the table every fucking millisecond, practically in tune with the pounding ache beginning to form between your brows. If you were a better person, you’d let these things go. Such is life, right? But since the lack of sleep, the increased workload and general mishappenings had already created this beautiful trifecta of shit just to screw you over, better people could go fuck themselves. As could Murphy. “Don’t use your wife’s cooking as an excuse. I’m telling you, make another sound and die.” you spit out, whirling in your chair because the incessant fucking banging still hasn’t stopped - just in time to catch Peña sauntering in, already smirking.
“Already nailing Murphy’s balls, cariño? Careful, I’ll fall in love, baby.” You can hear the laughter in his crooning voice as he throws it over his shoulder - but you don’t care - can’t care, beyond the spots that seem to be forming at the edges of your vision. Were your fingers always a bit tingly? Or is that a new development, like your tongue suddenly feeling thick and heavy in your mouth, like you’re choking on it? But even though your thoughts feel slow and weighed down by molasses, rage sparks brighter in your mind as Peña’s flirty nicknames and bullshit teasing registers. You push away from your desk, and shoot up from the chair, striding towards the door to get some air - or you try to - because before you know it, your vision is blinded by white and you’re breathing quick, shallow breaths as you lay on the ground trying to figure out what the fuck is happening. Distantly, you can hear someone calling your name but it sounds so far away you barely even register it. Hands wrap around your wrist, your head, attempting to stabilize you, to ground you, as you flail wildly in a panic. A low hum begins to fill your senses, forming words that sound to fuzzy to understand or care about right now, but you lean into it, something in your being telling you it’s safe.
When your sight clears, you’re curled up on the on the floor trembling. Shaking, like a scared fucking child, while Peña kneels to hold you to his chest, repeating the same few phrases over and over: “You’re okay, it’s okay hermosa. You’re safe. Safe. No ones gonna hurt you, it’s over now, okay?” as Murphy stands next to him, watching with panic and a hint of sympathy in his gaze. You scramble away from them both, panting, nearly slipping in your effort to get to your feet. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay, pretty. You’re okay” Peña repeats his assurances with his hands held out, palms facing you, as you stand on wobbling knees, wiping at your face.
“‘M fine” is all you whisper to them hoarsely before ducking your head and rushing out of the pathetically cramped room you three work in. You can hear footsteps behind you, but can’t find it in you to turn around - not even at the panicked sounds of your name being called by a familiar voice. You’re making a scene, you know it, but you don’t care. It’s all too much, and you’re too far gone. Reaching the parking lot, you struggle to unlock your car as your trembling fingers drop the keys twice. Swearing, you resolve and pick them up again, pressing them and reaching for the door. But just before your fingers find the handle another hand - much, much larger than yours - splays out on the window to stop you, just as Peña’s signature bedhead comes into view. He looks at you with wide, concerned eyes, his mouth tucked low at the corners, like he’s disappointed. You want to melt, you do, because the melting pot of emotions you have for him make you preen at his worry - but your usual defense mechanisms humble you. And so you sharpen your claws, flash your fangs, and the hackles raise again, leaving a “What, Peña?” to come tumbling out in a tone so sharp it makes you flinch. HIs frown just deepens as his gaze rakes over your form frantically, as if checking for injury. He says nothing, pursing his lips further before snatching your wrist and tugging you behind him as he stalks to his car, opening the side door. You raise a brow at him, and he counters by jerking his head towards the car, scowling slightly. You get in, slightly confused, and wait for him to walk around and get into the drivers seat. “What the fuck, Peña? I just fainted, I’m not senile. And I don’t give a shit how mad you are, you can’t just-just drag me to your car and f-force me to get in. The fuck are you playing at?” you begin to ramble, fury somehow still rising at a dizzying speed. Peña doesn’t respond, just starts driving while looking straight ahead while you continue fumbling over a panicked rant so pathetic it sounds nonsensical to your own ears. “…And what? You just enjoy calling me s-stupid nicknames? You think it’s cute to flirt with me while I’m- while I pass out?” This one makes his nostrils flare, eyes darkening a bit while his jaw tightens just for a second before letting go. You pause for a second, getting your breath while your hands still shake in your lap. “I’m fine, it’s fine. Can I just go home please? I’ve already done the month’s paperwork for all the ops we have planned, and you can just give me the rest post-op. I’m just a bit under the weather, I just need to lie down for a bit.” you start trying to reason, but the stubborn ass just keeps driving, and alarm starts bubbling in your chest again. You look down to your lap while you fiddle with your thumbs, willing to control the irrational fear yelling at you that something’s wrong every second Peña chooses to stay silent.
“Think I was flirting with you while you passed out? Y’think I don’t see it, you working yourself to the fucking bone? Think I can’t see how you’ve stopped eating, honey? Stopped laughing like you used to? Think I don’t know how late you’ve starting going home? As ‘f I’ll ever stop waitin’ for ya to clock out first so I know you’re home okay, baby. You gotta tell me what’s wrong - this is eatin’ you up.“
Peña’s tone softens, but his harsh whisper makes you turn your head to look at him. He sounds so…tortured, as if he’s the one suffering. He glances your way, locking eyes with you for a second before turning his head back to the road. You sit there and practically gape at him, your jaw slack as your head whirls. Peña knows? No, wait, he waits? For you to go home so you’re safe? He cares? What the fuck? Confused, all that comes out of your mouth is a mighty elegant open-mouthed “huh?” before you blink at him, waiting for him to continue.
“You gotta know by now, sweetheart. Gotta see how I’ve been lookin’ at you. You’re the smartest fuckin’ agent I’ve seen, with the balls to take down men I’d sweat to be ‘n the same room with. You swear like a sailor, an’ make me laugh till I’m chokin’ on my own damn cigarette. Tell me what’s hurtin’ you, honey. I can’t promise I’ll fix it, but I can swear to you I’ll damn well try my best.” He responds, turning to hold your gaze as his own eyes widen, and his brows turn down. Puppy eyes, you think.
Your brain has gone from hazy to too fucking clear in a matter of five minutes, and now it feels like your thoughts are gonna come ripping out of your head. So you just blink at him, again, before reaching an unsteady hand out to cup his cheek. “I’m okay, I swear. Just-you remember that deal I had to cut last month? With the sicario? For intel on that lab?” Peña nods, and you continue. “Fucker led me to a dead end. Ambushed me. O-only got out ‘cause his gun jammed, and his child-soldier ran away. I just-this is so fucking dumb I’ve been in worse but- I can’t get it out of my head. The shit he said to me, the way he looked at me, t-touched me. I should be dead or worse, Peña. And I nearly was.“ you look down again, ashamed of the truth that’s spilling out of your mouth. It’s so small, so weak, you just want to fold into yourself and never come out. Your voice wobbles towards the end, tears filling your eyes as you turn your head away from the man you’ve wanted for so long to save whatever dignity you still have left. “‘N I can’t sleep anymore. Just see- or feel him every time. So thought I’d work for a bit. Clearly didn’t fucking work out, though.” small hiccups have started to punctuate your words, testament to the tears now flowing down your cheeks. Peña pulls up to an unfamiliar building and turns to you.
“‘S Javi, honey. Look at me, pretty baby.” He cradles your chin between his thumb and his forefinger to turn your head towards him. “None of that was stupid, okay? Come lie down at my place. I’ll sit in a damn chair next to you and fight him away if he comes in your dreams, sweetheart, okay? Nothin’ to be ‘fraid of. Never letting any fuckers near you again.” Javi leans in to brush a kiss to your forehead before stepping out of the car and hooking his index and middle finger to beckon you too. You step out of the truck and towards him, smiling while swiping at your face. “Didn’t know this was what the girls meant every time they bragged about sleeping with you” you snark softly, with a teasing grin on your face as you reach him. Javi rolls his eyes playfully before unlocking the door.
“Ain’t gotta do no sleepin’ you don’t want to, honey. You’re here to get some rest. Be a good girl and sleep f’me, and I’ll keep you up for as long as you like after,” he throws over his shoulder with a matching grin and a wink.
#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena fluff#javier peña x you#javier peña x reader#javier peña#steve murphy#narcos fanfiction#javi#soft javi#fluff#hurt/comfort#ive never done this before let’s see how this goes heehee#javier pena fic#javier pena x reader#javier pena x you#javier pena imagines#javier pena narcos#narcos#cool-iguana
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Respect - A Dave York x Wheelchair User/MS F!Reader One Shot
Written as part of my B O D I E S Series 🤎
BODIES MASTERLIST
Summary: Your husband Dave takes you on a weekend away so you can spend some quality time together as a married couple in love.
Pairing: Dave York x Wheelchair User/MS F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader in terms of ethnicity, Reader does have hair. Reader is a mother to two young girls, hers and Dave's. Reader uses a wheelchair, but is not confined to it, and Reader has MS (Multiple Sclerosis.)
Word Count: 5.1k
Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️ “It's the emergence, of."
Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.
Triggers & warnings: Mentions and descriptions of the symptoms of MS, mostly fatigue and aches/pains. Reader uses a wheelchair on occasion, but is not confined to it/Unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/fingering/oral F receiving/some very light spanking/soft Dave in love with his wife.
NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.
I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.
Author’s Note: It's important to me that all types of readers are represented in my work, therefore this collection of stories is written for readers with REAL bodies. However, anyone can enjoy them. Whilst this story may not specifically represent your own personal journey, it is my hope that it resonates and offers comfort and enjoyment. The condition/disability mentioned in this story is not 'one size fits all' - everyone's journey is personal and unique, and I have undertaken as much research as I can to write accurately and respectfully. 🤎
MAIN MASTERLIST | DAVE YORK MASTERLIST
Enjoy! 🖤
As the first light of dawn paints the sky in hues of pink and gold, you’re sitting out on the balcony of the cabin, resting easy in your wheelchair; the crisp mountain air filling your lungs with its invigorating scent.
The world around you is alive with the orchestral sounds of nature - the gentle rustle of leaves, the melodious chirping of birds, the soft murmur of the nearby stream.
The air on the balcony carries with it the invigorating scent of the lush forest - a heady blend of pine and cedar, mingled with the earthy aroma of damp moss and fallen leaves. With each breath, you inhale deeply the purifying air and birth a smile.
As the morning sun filters through the trees, it releases the sweet perfume of wildflowers and fresh grasses. The scent is delicate and ephemeral, lingering on the breeze for just a moment before dissipating into the ether.
Despite the heavy ache in your bones, the tiredness that threatens to swarm you on a near constant basis, you defy it and soak in the atmosphere of a place that you’ll never tire of.
There’s something so healing about nature, a deep connection to something greater than yourself - a sense of oneness with the world around you. The worries and fears that have consumed your thoughts are pushed aside, replaced by a profound sense of gratitude for the beauty of the natural world and the love that surrounds you.
It’s as if it’s all forgotten, washed away temporarily and that you’re remembering that you’re not defined by the daily battle and onslaught of your body turning against you.
You feel strong, like the blue mountains casting their sapphire shadows on the horizon, your spirit lifted. You close your eyes, breathing in deep and enjoy these moments when they come, when you tune it all out and remember what life was like before.
It had been a silent intruder, stealthily weaving its threads into your life, slowly unravelling your strength and mobility at a pace that wasn’t too noticeable at first, often brushed off as just feeling tired or exhausted from the girls and their daily routine.
It was something unexpected for everyone.
When you were first diagnosed, waves of fear and uncertainty threatened to engulf you. But as time passed, you found a reservoir of strength within yourself that you never knew existed.
Coping with MS became a daily ritual, a delicate dance between acceptance and defiance. You embraced the array of treatments and therapies recommended by your doctors, determined to wrestle back control over your depleting body.
Medications helped alleviate the relentless fatigue and pain, while physical therapy became your lifeline, offering a glimmer of hope for improved mobility.
You embarked on a quest for self-awareness and acceptance, coming to terms with the limitations imposed by your condition while refusing to be defined by them. It was a journey marked by small victories and occasional setbacks, but through it all, you remained steadfast in your resolve to live life on your own terms.
Central to your coping strategy was the unwavering support of your loved ones. Dave, your husband, stood by your side with unbreakable devotion, and together, you navigated the challenges of MS as a team. A pillar of strength, Dave had shouldered the burden of caregiving with grace and devotion.
From dawn till dusk, he juggled the demands of work, household chores, and the tender care of his family, his own exhaustion masked by a smile that never waned during your inevitable hindrances and moments of frustration.
Your battle with Multiple Sclerosis brought with it a relentless companion: fatigue.
It was an ever-present weight, dragging at your limbs and clouding your thoughts in a nearly constant fog. Some days, it felt like an insurmountable mountain, leaving you drained and worn before the day had even begun.
The fatigue of MS was unlike anything you'd ever experienced. There was tiredness and then there was just… this. It wasn't just physical exhaustion; it seeped into every crevice of your being, sapping your energy and dampening your spirits.
Sometimes, it was too tiring to even smile.
Tasks that were once second nature now felt like Herculean feats, each step heavier than the last. Despite your best efforts to push through the fatigue, the simplest of things - making breakfast, getting dressed - became monumental challenges, leaving you feeling frustrated and overwhelmed.
It was a constant battle against an invisible foe, one that seemed to grow stronger with each passing day.
Yet, it was in the quiet moments of family life that the true impact of your MS was most felt.
As you watched your daughters grow and thrive, you couldn't shake the nagging fear that your condition would rob you of the precious moments that made life worth living.
The disappointment etched on their faces when they wanted you to come play with them, their laughter echoing like music in the air, and you had to explain that you couldn’t, mommy’s real tired right now, baby… but you would next time, felt utterly wretched.
You longed to join them in their exuberance. But as you attempted to rise from your seat, a wave of weakness would often wash over you, leaving your legs trembling and unsteady.
Intimacy with Dave was an intricate dance for you, woven with threads of love, desire, and the lingering shadow of your MS symptoms. As your bodies would entwine in the quiet sanctuary of your bedroom, you found yourself grappling with a myriad of emotions, from longing and vulnerability, to frustration and guilt.
There was a time when you and Dave would embark on the spicier aspect of love-making. But the physical symptoms of your condition soon casted a shadow over it, leaving you feeling self-conscious and insecure.
And as the stiffness and muscle spasms of MS tightened their grip, the simple act of being close to Dave in any form became a painful reminder of your body's betrayal. Sometimes, you couldn’t bear for him to touch you, the pain in your nerves feeling like fire raging throughout your body.
And with it brought the insolent paranoia, worried that he would grow tired of his own needs not being fulfilled and would ultimately look elsewhere. And whilst it was a heinous thought that would break you completely if he strayed, part of you wouldn’t blame him.
However, he was sure to put those nagging demons to rest more often than not, not only telling you how much he loved you and wanted you, but in acts of showing you.
From the little things, like running you a hot bath when the aches were bad, to making the girls’ packed lunches for the next day at school. To doing the laundry and filing the taxes when your brain was too foggy to concentrate. To bringing home coffee and flowers and pastries, to arranging a weekend getaway for you both so you could rest and relax in the cabin that you loved so much.
Dave was the perfect mix of attentive husband and teammate.
The love of nature runs deep within your veins, an intrinsic part of who you are. From a young age, you found solace and joy in the great outdoors - exploring forest trails, wading through babbling brooks, discovering new species of bug or plant, and basking in the warmth of the sun's rays.
Nature was your sanctuary, your refuge from the stresses and strains of everyday life - a place where you felt truly alive, truly yourself. But as your MS symptoms began to manifest, you found yourself increasingly frustrated by the limitations they imposed on your ability to enjoy the outdoors so freely.
The simple act of hiking through the woods or taking a leisurely stroll through a park became fraught with steep challenges, each step a reminder of the toll that your condition had taken on your body. It was a bitter pill to swallow, watching from the sidelines as your family frolicked in the embrace of nature, while you remained tethered to the confines of your wheelchair on really bad days, or the support of your husband's arm to stay upright.
But there are good days too; on those rare and precious days, when your symptoms relent and your body feels lighter, you seize the opportunity to immerse yourself fully in the beauty of nature and the connections found around you.
You smile when you hear the balcony door creak open and footsteps pad against the wooden beams. Glancing over your shoulder, Dave’s mussed brown hair and sleepy deep eyes greet you.
He’s just stunning like this, even after all these years together, he still takes your breath away when wearing a simple, faded sleep t-shirt and tight black boxers hugging his thighs as he makes his way towards you and takes you in his strong arms.
Arms that have never wavered, despite the load he carries. You can’t help but marvel daily at the depth of Dave's devotion, his willingness to go above and beyond to ensure your comfort and well-being.
When you got your diagnosis, Dave immediately went into adapting mode. Switching up the spare room downstairs into a bedroom for the days when you couldn’t make it up the stairs. He spent more time working at home to support you with chores and the task of running a household.
But it's not just you who benefits from Dave's dedication. Your daughters, too, are the recipients of his tireless efforts, as he juggles the demands of work and family with grace and patience. Whether it's attending Molly’s soccer games and school recitals, or helping with Alice’s homework and the complexities of her maturing into puberty, Dave is always there, a steady presence in their lives.
And you couldn’t be more proud or grateful to have him by your side, especially when he does this, all this, for you.
You think back to when he said he was taking you away for the weekend to the cabin, just the two of you. Your eyes had widened in surprise, a smile spreading across your face. "Really? That's amazing! But what about the girls?"
"They'll be staying with my parents for the weekend," Dave explained. "It'll just be you and me, baby."
And although you were excited at the prospect, you couldn’t help but worry about your condition incapacitating you from enjoying some much needed time with your husband.
And sensing your concern, Dave added, "we'll take things slow, at your pace. It's not about what we do, it's about being together. We can just relax.”
As the familiar scenery blurred past the windows of the car, you’d settled into your seat with a sense of anticipation tempered by apprehension. The journey to your cherished cabin - one that you and Dave had purchased as a family home-away-from-home, where the vast majority of your vacations were taken - was a ritual you’d embarked on countless times before, but the worry always lingered that your condition would put a damper on things.
With each passing mile, you felt the telltale signs of discomfort creeping into your body - the stiffness in your limbs, the ache in your muscles, the relentless fatigue that began to crush on your shoulders.
But Dave had adequately prepared for it. He had adjusted the temperature controls to your liking, ensuring that the car was neither too hot nor too cold and a blanket was rolled up on the seat ready for you. He had packed a selection of your favourite snacks and beverages, knowing that keeping your energy levels up was crucial during long journeys. Made regular stops so you could stretch and ease your muscle cramps.
He offered his muscular arm as you navigated the uneven terrain, a steady presence by your side to lean on when needed. He’d packed the wheelchair, folding it around the suitcase and cooler like a skilled master at Tetris.
Then you finally arrived at the cabin, nestled amidst the towering pines, and you felt a sense of relief wash over you. The journey had been long and challenging, but you’d made it to the rustic retreat tucked away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life. Its weathered exterior bore the marks of years gone by.
The front porch, adorned with a simple wooden bench and a hanging lantern, welcomed you with open arms, offering a quiet sanctuary to unwind. Weathered planks creaked beneath your feet as you stepped slowly up onto the porch, the sound a familiar echo of memories past.
Inside, the cabin exuded warmth and cosiness, its walls adorned with knick-knacks and family photos and mementos collected over the years. A stone fireplace dominated one corner of the room, later its crackling flames would cast a soft glow across the space as you and Dave would cuddle up together nestled under fluffy throws and watch some old film.
Its sloping ceilings and cosy nooks offer a refuge from the world below. A plush bed dominates the master bedroom with its soft linens scented with the outdoors from the extended balcony.
And outside, the world now lays waiting, a vast expanse of wilderness stretching as far as the eye can see and you know you’d rather not be anywhere else right at this moment as Dave’s arms snake down over your belly giving it an affectionate squeeze, and you feel his chin rest on your shoulder.
“You’re up early,” he murmurs. A soft kiss is pressed into the skin just behind your ear.
“Was a bit stiff,” you say.
"Am I okay to touch you? Is it the nerve pain?" He asks.
"No, no pain today." You smile up at him.
"Good," and he immediately runs his hands over your shoulders, massaging them gently. “You want me to run you a bath, baby?” He asks, and you shake your head, sighing and melting under his touch.
“That feels so good…” You practically whine, eyes closed and your senses running amok as he presses tentatively, but firmly, over your aching muscles.
You hear him murmur in agreement, and more gentle kisses are peppered across the back of your neck.
“You feel up to taking a walk today? A short one, maybe down to the stream and back?” He queries. “If not, I can push you in the chair. It’s not too far...”
Despite the stiffness that lingers in you from the journey down to the cabin, your body feels surprisingly good today. The fresh mountain air has worked its magic, infusing you with a renewed sense of vitality and energy. And a walk does sound appealing, hand in hand with your handsome husband, taking in the sights and sounds of nature.
But Dave’s hands on your skin feels too good to ignore.
"Actually," you say, turning up to face him with a mischievous twinkle in your eye, "I have a different idea."
Curious, Dave raises an eyebrow in question, his expression a mixture of intrigue and amusement. "Oh? And what might that be, Mrs York?"
“Help me up?”
You hold out your hands and he pulls you gently upright towards him, arms around your back as you feel the warmth of him seep into your skin.
You run your fingers down his chest, towards his belly and only stop when you cup his cock inside your palm.
He’s half hard already, a mixture of fleeting morning wood and the feel of you pressed against him, rousing him to full attention again.
You stoke and grope gently, feeling the thickness of him, running your thumb over the fabric of his boxers where his head swells under your touch.
“I thought maybe we could stay here for a little bit.”
“Here? Right here?” Dave's eyes widen in surprise, a grin spreading across his face as he catches on to your enthusiasm.
“Yeah, right here.” You confirm as you feel him fully harden against you.
"Mmm, I like the sound of that," he replies, his voice tinged with a heady excitement.
His hands find your hips, turning you and you squeal as you grip onto the balcony edge as he guides you backwards a little bit.
Back arched and ass pushed out at him, he pushes up the hem of your sleep shirt, which is really just one of his old, blue cotton shirts that you wear just to tease him he swears, to reveal your delicate lacy panties.
“Is this what you want, hmm?” He murmurs into your ear as you feel his fingers glide down your skin making you shudder. His whole palm massages your ass cheek before giving it a gentle spank.
It makes you gasp and bite your lip in wonderment.
“Mmm, Dave,” you groan.
“Just a little tap… nothing too hard.” He reassures, knowing your body and tolerances well.
You miss those days when you could both go hard, fully unleashed, and your tastes more often than not leant into the more BDSM side of things. Letting Dave take full control of your body and mind and testing limits.
But since your condition took over, the kinkier aspect of your sex life took a harsh back seat, but Dave senses those tendrils are still alive in you. Still alive in him too, and you both navigate it differently, taking more of a softer approach when able to have the strength to play and indulge together with him.
He’s tuned into your body fully and knows exactly what you’ll be able to handle and when your exhaustion will rear its ugly head. Positions are adapted, lots of cushions to support, and Dave takes his sweet time with you, checking in regularly and ensuring you’re not appeasing him at the cost of your own comfort.
You never tire of his sweeping touch, the way he gazes at you and tells you how good you feel and how beautiful you are. The way he tends to you and holds you after. The way foreplay has become an integral part of your lovemaking, sometimes replacing penetration altogether, and Dave enjoys it just as much, if not more, especially on the days where he too is exhausted, but still wants to feel close to you and wanted.
He brings his palm down gently on your cheek again as you gasp, gripping onto the edge of the balcony tighter.
“Feel good, baby?” He asks with a subtle hiss.
“More,” you nod and keen.
"More, what?"
"More... please." You smirk coyly.
“Just one more…” He says, and you groan as he spanks you again.
The subtle burn on your skin floods through your body leaving you heated and amped.
His hand soothes the sting, rubbing over the meat of your cheek and fingers slipping in between the crack, sliding down the seam of your panties.
“Someone’s wet…” Dave teases, his fingers prodding at the damp, sticky lace moulded around your lips.
You push back seeking his fingers desperately, feeling your body tighten and coil and anticipating release, but instead he withdraws them, pulling your panties off completely and helping you step out of them.
“You good, baby?” Dave asks as you wobble, rising up and hands steady on your hips.
“Yeah,” you breathe, a momentary dizzy spell clouding your eyes. You hate this, you hate that your body wants to interrupt this.
You turn, finding his lips and grab at his t-shirt. “I want you, Dave.” You whine.
“Want you too, baby…” he grunts as he tastes your tongue. “But let’s get you off your feet.”
Before you have time to protest, he sweeps you up, lifting you into his strong arms as you giggle, and carries you into the bedroom. You stroke the hair at the nape of his neck, nuzzling into him as your toes tingle and throb.
He lays you on the bed, kissing your forehead, then the tip of your nose, followed by your lips. He kisses at your neck, sucking the skin there into his mouth as his fingers unbutton the shirt.
“Take your t-shirt off,” you sway with a wanton giggle.
“Oh, you want me naked, hmm?” He smirks, pulling the t-shirt over his head and messing up his hair further.
You fail to suppress a groan, he’s fucking beautiful. Tan, sculpted arms and a strong chest. The inklings of a little belly held back by muscle.
“Like what you see, Mrs York?” He grins. You watch as he shucks his boxers off and his cock, thick and heavy, protrudes between his thighs.
You reach for it, stroking it gently in your grip as he resumes his undressing of you. Leaking into your palm, he grunts as you pump him slowly.
"Oh, fuck, baby..." he breathes.
"I love this cock," you say, looking up at him.
He smirks crookedly, licking his plush lips.
Soft breasts and hard nipples greet him as he kisses down your clavicle, over the valley of your cleavage and licks around your areola, teasing you.
Dave spends copious amounts of time teasing you, worshipping your body. Eliciting all the octaves of moans that flow from your mouth as your body communicates with him.
He takes his time, stroking, lavishing and admiring. Appreciating every inch of you and how the morning sunlight makes your skin glow.
“God, you’re so beautiful, baby.” Dave breathes, his breath warm before sucking your nipple into his mouth.
“Dave,” you whine, fingers scritching into the messy tufts of his chocolaty hair. His head continues south, his tongue leaving wet, cooling streams over the heat of your stomach.
He nestles himself between your thighs, kissing the insides of them as he looks up at you.
You watch his tongue glide down your thigh. It tickles and you chuckle making him grin, so he does it again until you push his head away, laughing too much.
“Stop!” You practically snort and he laughs too.
“How are you feeling? Check in with me…” He asks, the dominant in him grounding you, as he goes back to soft, explorative kissing.
“Good, really good,” you say. And you do, relaxing into the softness of the sheets, your limbs feeling fuzzy and loose.
He runs his fingers along the slit of you and smirks. “We haven’t gotten this sopping wet in a while.” The tip of his thumb pushes in through your folds and it's drenched, the stickiness you can hear as he slips around your folds. “I like to get you sopping wet,” Dave husks.
“Mmm, just feels so nice to feel you rubbing… and touching me like this.”
“I love touching you like this, baby.”
“This feels so good, you and me together like this.”
“It really does. Fuck, look at you…” he nips onto the inside of your thigh gently, those eyes penetrating you deeply. “Tell me what you want, you want my fingers or my tongue?”
“Can’t I have both?” You smirk down at him.
He grins again. “So greedy.” He shuffles, his feet hanging off the bed as he spreads your legs and rests one over his shoulder.
“Tell me to stop if it becomes too much,” he reminds you and you nod, feeling like the luckiest woman in the world right now.
You gasp as he kisses, plants a little smooch here and there across your pussy. Then licks up the seam with a flat tongue. Thumbs pry you open gently so he can lick your clit, the tip of his tongue fluttering back and forth.
“Oh, that feels so good…” You whine, and he grunts in agreement.
His tongue delves down into your hole, his thumb stroking pressurised circles over your clit as you squirm and writhe. His tongue penetrates you, fucks you gently as your clit buzzes under the slick rings his thumb makes around and over it.
“Mmm, can you put your finger in?” You pant.
“Just one?” He asks.
“Maybe two?”
“Maybe two, hmm?” He smirks.
You watch as he sucks his middle finger and you gasp as it slips in with ease. He strokes you with the one for a little while whilst sucking on your clit before adding the other, both his middle fingers stroking inside you now.
“Mmm, Dave! Don’t stop!” You keen, your body tensing and pulling rigid. You can feel the cusp of your orgasm twinkling over you.
Dave can feel you buck into his mouth, your thighs shaking against his cheeks as he fingers and sucks you to your heady peak. You fist the sheets as you twist and your back arches as you spill into his mouth.
For a few, slow seconds you can’t hear or see anything, lost in the dreamy opaque void.
“You taste so good, baby,” he says hungrily, as he pulls back a little from your lips. “Can never get enough of this gorgeous pussy.”
“Dave, I need you.” You smile down at him blissfully, and beckon him up as he crawls up your body.
“Need my cock?”
“Need your cock.” You clarify.
“Wrap your legs round me baby, that’s it, just like that. Comfy?”
“Yeah,” you smile, your hands sliding up his broad shoulders.
He guides himself in, the tip pushing through gently and you groan. He licks over your mouth, tasting yourself as you kiss him, his cock sliding in deep and filling you full.
You whine as Dave flexes his hips, his cock shiny with your slick as it withdraws each time.
“Fuck, you feel so good, baby,” he groans.
You can only gasp in agreement when you feel the swell of his balls pushing up against you as he plunges slow and deep. His hand strokes over your breast, palm smooth and warm as he squeezes; your nipple pinched between his fingers.
“Fuck!” You moan, enjoying the sensation of it as he pinches harder.
“Good?”
“So good.”
He watches you, head nestled into the pillows, a dreamy smile over your features as you moan and pant.
“Mmm, just nice and gentle and deep like this.” He breathes, plush lips parted as he watches you.
“Yeah…”
“You like it deep, don’t you?” Dave says, pistoning his hips slowly. “Am I making you feel good, baby?”
“So good,” you gasp. “Oh god, fuck that’s so good. That feels so good!” You cry. “Dave, I’m gonna-”
“I know, baby. You’re so close. I can feel it.”
“Please, please-”
“You're begging me? Good girl...” He smirks. “You want to come?”
“Yes, please, please, Dave… Oh fuck, I can’t-”
“You can. Come for me, let it go.”
“DAVE!”
“You’re so good for me, baby. Yeah, soak my cock... mmm, fuck. Look at you."
It's intense, so intense. Your body wants to fight it, to keep it on the outer reaches but you want it, that release that will flood your veins with a caramel warmth.
A few more strokes and you’re falling to pieces, thread by thread as he pushes in and holds it; motionless and just feeling your cunt contract and pulse around his throbbing, hard cock as you tremble and let go.
“That’s it, baby. Right there, fuck, you’re so beautiful when you come for me.”
Tears flood behind your eyes, your vision blurring as you give way to the light flooding and rejuvenating you.
“Fuck, I love making you come so much…” Dave groans.
It’s better than the meds, it cures everything. For a moment you’re white-washed in pure bliss. No pain, no tiredness, just Dave and the way he’s pulling you apart. Catching each piece of you and sewing you back together with silken ribbons.
You claw at him pulling him closer, your mewls of desperation absorbing into his skin.
"Dave! Oh my God!"
“I’m gonna come, baby…. Fuck!” He growls, his last few thrusts a bit harder and frantic.
You grip onto him, fingers digging into clammy flesh as he grits his teeth and his eyes hold yours.
“Come inside me, Dave.” You pelt and he groans out, loudly, as he bursts.
Foreheads pressed together and eyelashes fluttering in unison, he smiles and kisses your nose. You card through his hair and taste his warm sighs.
“Feels really wet down there,” you giggle as he pulls out, soaked and pearly come dripping from his cock.
“It is, look what you do to me,” he smirks.
He taps his cock against your flooded pussy, and you chuckle at the lewd sounds as it seeps from you. “Love coming inside you.”
“Me too.” You giggle.
You groan as he scoops it up on the end of his cock and slips it back inside your still fluttering cunt. Staying there until he’s fully softened.
“Are you feeling okay?” Dave asks.
“Mmm, feel really good.” You say with heavy lids.
“Did that make you hungry?”
“Well, I was hungry before, but for breakfast? Yeah.”
He chuckles as he nuzzles your neck with his nose. “What are you hungry for?”
“What do we have?”
“Bacon… some eggs. About ten pounds of Costco Mexican cheese. I think some pancake mix, too.” Dave yawns.
“Store bought pancake mix? You are not the man I married.” You scoff, and he laughs and slips out of you.
He scooches off the bed and you watch as he pads over to the bathroom to retrieve a washcloth. Tall and naked and just perfect, as you feel your bodyweight sink further into the mattress.
The washcloth is warm and soft as he cleans you up and tosses it into the hamper before settling in with you.
“How about you relax here and I’ll see what I can throw together?” Dave suggests.
“Sounds good, but just lay with me, for a little bit?” You sway and he can’t resist.
Dave gets comfy behind you, pulling your back close to his chest. You take his hand in yours, bringing in up to your mouth and running your lips over his knuckles.
There’s something so sexy about his wedding band, you think. That he’s yours. That it’s wrapped around a thick finger that still smells of your slick as you kiss over them as he snuggles in behind you. That he loves you and still desires you, despite your fatigue and pain.
“You okay, baby?” Dave asks again, lips grazing softly against the ball of your shoulder.
“Mmm, never better.” You murmur softly.
“Legs doing okay? Back?”
You smile at how attentive he is and he runs his hand down your thigh, giving it a gentle, massaging squeeze.
“I’m good,” you reassure, feeling the hazy balm of sleep settling in. “Are you good?”
“Oh, I feel so good right now. Here, with my stunning wife who just milked my balls dry, and no kids!” He chuckles.
“Mmm, heaven.” You agree, grinning into his plush mouth as he kisses you. “Thank you for this weekend.” You say, feeling all twinkly.
The sensations that have become all too familiar in your daily life - tingling in your fingertips, the heaviness in your limbs - seem to have receded, replaced by a welcome sense of lightness and vitality. You give in to the sleepy blissfulness enveloping you like a soft, snug blanket, soothing your senses and calming you.
“Anything for you, baby. I love you.” Dave muffles against your skin. “Sleep, if you need to.”
“I love you, too.” You smile, your lids closing and succumbing to a post-coital nap in your loving husband’s arms.
I really hope you enjoyed reading this story with Dave, and welcome your comments/thoughts. I'd appreciate a re-blog if you liked it so others can find it on their dash to read and enjoy too - thank you very much! 🖤
BODIES MASTERLIST
MAIN MASTERLIST
DAVE YORK MASTERLIST
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#dave york#dave york x reader#pedro pascal characters#dave york x f!reader#dave york smut#dave york the equalizer 2#dave york x you#dave york fluff#bodies series#every body is beautiful#diversity#inclusion#jett's writing
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↬ To Be Loved and To Be in Love ↫
Aaron Hotchner x chef female reader
Summary: You drop by the BAU to bring the team a homemade lunch while Beth returns from Beijing to visit Hotch
Warnings: none, angst and fluff, Beth and Hailey are mentioned.
WC: 2K
Pic credit: Pinterest
*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ
Five months ago, your dear neighbour David Rossi asked for a favour, he was having his friends over and wanted your help to cook for them. Dave is not known for sharing his kitchen, but this is something you and him did regularly. Living next door to a pro chef with a successful catering business was a win for Dave. You obliged, with more than a few ideas in mind to try out.
He invites you to stay, you decline, not wanting to intrude and be the odd one out. But Rossi is a man with a plan, he invites them earlier than previously stated, effectively forcing you to meet the team he speaks so fondly of.
You’re a person who often needs at least a couple of interactions to accurately recall a face. This evening was no different. You fell into easy conversation with the team, they were interested to get to know you, listening eagerly about your work as a chef, a welcomed distraction from their own line of work. You indulge them graciously, careful not to press them about the details of their own work in return.
One person in the group does not contribute much. Dave enthusiastically introduces him to you as, “Aaron, the boss man,” he was quiet, face mostly unreadable but outrageously handsome. The few times he does speak, you nearly melt at his soft yet dominating voice. He is a man of few words, that much is clear. He smirks a handful of times throughout the evening. You were dying to get a better look at his beautiful face, but too intimidated to ogle at the older man. At the end of the night when everyone said their goodbyes, he came up to you on the balcony, thanking you for the delicious meal. His tone while speaking to you was different, good different. It was softer, more gentle, he was warm and kind, the epitome of a gentleman. He had called you beautiful before he knew what he was doing and began to fluster, tripping over his words as a soft blush graced his cheeks. That did you in, seeing the ‘boss man’ get all blushy and shy, and for you no less. You exchanged numbers that night and went home with a clear image of his face imprinted on your mind.
The two of you have been inseparable since. He loves everything last thing about you. Your aura, the way you speak, the way you carry yourself, the way your eyes twinkle when you’re trying to concentrate, the small adjustments you’ve made in the kitchen to allow for Jack, your self appointed sous chef, to maneuver safely.
And you love everything last thing about him. His beautiful face, his kind gestures, his ability to know exactly what to say to comfort you, his pure heart, his eagerness to learn everything about you, the love he has for his son.
You learned that his two love languages are physical touch and words of affirmation. He craves your touch, always reaching out to hold onto you in any way he can. It brings him a sense of comfort he can’t quite find elsewhere. And your words mean more to him than you’ll ever know. The words of encouragement you offer him every morning, whenever you stop to tell him how proud of him you are, when you make it a point to verbalize your appreciation for the things he does for you. It’s hard to miss the effect this has on him. It blankets him with a sense of warmth and belonging, making his heart skip a beat. It makes him smile, a real smile and not a sly grin. Your words make him feel loved, wanted, heard, and appreciated. Your love slowly brings the colour back to Aaron’s life.
Acts of service are your love language. You often take some time out of your day to bring the team something to eat. You can't help yourself, you’ve grown fond of them. Truth be told, you're putty in their hands. It was a surprise each time, southern style banana pudding that Spencer literally went bananas over, mango salsa chicken tacos with homemade fries that made Garcia shed a tear, afghan rice and beef kebabs skewered to perfection that had even Strauss drooling. They were blown away every time. Derek and Emily were quick to accuse Dave of purposely hiding you from them all this time. Hotch laughed at that.
Today, you made beef gyros with homemade tzatziki that you were very proud of. You even brought a complementary raspberry lemonade. Feeling content, you walk into the BAU excited for their reviews.
“Our saving grace, and she comes bearing gifts!” Garcia squeaks excitedly, rushing to help you with the containers. Spencer launches into a speech about the value and history of food sharing in various cultures around the globe, eliciting a loud groan from Derek.
You shake your head at them and laugh, turning to ask Emily where Aaron was when you notice her smile start to fade. You follow her gaze to a brunette that hops out of the elevator.
“Hello! How is everybody doing?” she chirps, quickly joining the rest of you. The team looks surprised to see her, muttering pleasantries and stealing awkward glances at one another. You feel lost, something is up and you are the odd one out.
She could be Emily’s girl, but she’s barely acknowledging her, and besides, I swear Em likes blondes….
“I don't think we’ve met! Hi, I’m Beth!” she gushes, extending her hand. You politely introduce yourself, “Very nice to meet you agent Y/N!” you don't have time to correct her as her next words strike something in you.
“How's Aaron? I came to say hi, God it's been so long, is he in his office?” her bubbly tone and never fading smile were starting to get on your nerves by now.
Woah hold on, Aaron? Who is this and how is she on a first name basis with him? And why have I not heard of her?
You stand still, lost in thought as someone responds and she all but skips over to his office.
“Hey, are you ok?” JJ sits you down, Emily close behind. The two of them fill you in on this Beth character. She’s his ex, they had broken up about a year ago when she took a job in Beijing.
That hurt, you tried not to let it, but it hurt. His ex who you never knew about. His ex who he only broke up with out of necessity. The one that got away…
“Listen, honestly Y/N, I wouldn't worry about it too much, she was his first anything after Hailey and he loves you. I mean, the man worships the ground you walk on, you have nothing to worry about,” Emily sounds sure of herself, you don’t share that sentiment. JJ hands you a water bottle that you graciously accept as you excuse yourself, gyros and lemonade long forgotten.
You ignore Aaron’s calls for the rest of the day, burying yourself in your work and falling down a rabbit hole of self doubt. You are not all the way present as your assistant goes over the details for an upcoming catering event in New York. Your thoughts are all consuming. If Beth didn’t have to move away, he would’ve never broken up with her, that much was clear. They broke up out of necessity, and you suspected that Aaron had encouraged her to go forth and pursue her dreams. He did it out of love, so surely he still has some feelings for her. You convince yourself that you’ve been nothing but a placeholder all this time. That hurt like hell. You’ve never been one to compete with another woman for a man to pick you, so you would make it easy for him.
A few hours later, Aaron shows up to your workplace, clearly flustered. He looks out of place in his ultra-formal black suit and tie, a stark contrast to the soft pastel coloured walls and the lilac flowers that welcome him at the front desk. A frown is etched onto his face as he searches for you, “Y/N, hi, I’ve been trying to reach you all day angel, are you ok?” you look up at him with a blank expression, the endearing pet name does nothing for you at that moment.
You excuse yourself, allowing him to follow you into a small room for privacy, the two of you sit across from each other. A small coffee table sits between you.
“I know you came by the office today,” he begins softly, “I heard that you ran into Beth, I’ll explain everything sweetheart, but please know that I love you, you mean everything to me Y/N.” You let him hold your hand but stay silent.
“Please say something, please talk to me Y/N,” he pleads, eagerly trying to reach your eyes. “You go first” you croak, your voice giving you away. He sighs, his heart feels heavy, he’s afraid what this conversation might lead to, what it could mean for your relationship.
“Beth and I dated for a little over a year, she was my first relationship after being married. I was alone for a long time, even in my marriage. I didn’t expect to meet a woman, to take her out on dates, all of it was foreign to me, the last time I had done anything remotely similar, Jack wasn’t born,” he pauses, taking in a deep breath. Your eyes finally meet his and you see each other’s pain, you will yourself to hold it in, to hear him out.
“Our relationship was unexpected but nice. I didn’t know what I was doing half the time, but I decided to give happiness a chance, for my own sake and for Jack. After a while, it felt easy, and comfortable.”
In that moment, you desperately want to reach out and hold him. Despite everything, you're proud of him for choosing happiness.
“When she got the job in Beijing, I was sad to see her go but ending it was not a difficult decision. I was not willing to uproot my life and my son for her dreams. I just wasn’t ready to compromise on that level for what we had. And she understood, she wasn’t willing to compromise her dreams for what we had either. And that was ok.”
He gives you a wobbly smile, soft brown eyes trained on yours as he continues, his hands never leaving yours.
“Sometimes people come into your life only for a season and that's ok. She came in today asking if we could rekindle things, I said no because I’ve found my forever person,” he looks up at you with teary eyes now, clinging onto your hands, silently begging you to accept him, to stay.
You let out the breath you've been holding in since he walked in, shoulders finally relaxing. Out of everything he had to say, the most important thing to you was that he did not try to discredit her or their relationship in an effort to defend himself. Instead, he was honest with you and allowed himself to be vulnerable in the moment. It makes a world of a difference to you. You respect him for it.
You pull him into a deep embrace, it's your response to him pouring his heart out. It's a warm, tight hug, one that screams relief.
You pull away to stare up at him, “I’ve found my forever person too.” You sit there for a while, foreheads touching, arms around each other. It feels nice. He apologizes for not telling you about her, but you’re past that. You know him, it always works best when you allow him to share at his own pace. You understand him, you accept him, and he loves you for it.
Being with Aaron has shown you the beauty of being in love, and how equally beautiful it is to be loved.
*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ
I really hope you enjoyed!! Your support & feedback is greatly appreciated ♡
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner x female reader#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotch x you#aaron hotch fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fan fic#beth criminal minds#hotch x reader#david rossi#emily prentiss#jenifer jareau#derek morgan#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner comfort#fluff and comfort#yuly writes!#aaron hotchner x you#non bau reader#spencer reid#criminal minds#ssa aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x fem!reader
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