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Silhouettes of three new characters that were introduced in Hollow Sorrows. These three characters were later confirmed to be (from left to right):
Mort Vivifico
Garcia
Michelle (Dexter's mother)
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bodwinqdelois · 18 hours
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codename-mom · 1 day
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Cookie jar
Summary: The team is on the field without Hotch who's on a leave for some days, but they have to call him anyway. Suddenly, something happens and everybody worry about Jack.
Characters: BAU team and Jack Hotchner
Contents: TW a child is hurt (but everything is fine) and a tiny bit of angst because can't be anything else but anxious.
This is a text written for the KidFic CM challenge organized by @imagining-in-the-margins.
PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.
___
The team had gathered in the room the police had assigned them – a cubbyhole, so to speak, cluttered with cardboard boxes and mops – and Derek dialed Hotch's cell phone number. The latter was on leave for a few days. His men were reluctant to call him when he did, so that he could enjoy his time away from Quantico to the full, but they had no choice. The first clues found in the field echoed those of an old case the director and Jason Gideon had worked on in the past. As the latter had vanished into thin air, they could only contact the former.
He picked up after several rings.
“Hotch?”
“One moment, he stopped him on the spot. Jack, I said no. I’m coming back.”
Morgan had put his phone on speaker so that everyone could follow the conversation, and so they all heard the TV gradually fading away, until it was almost muffled. They imagined he must have gone to his bedroom, or some other room where he could close the door behind him.
“What's the matter?” he asked, in an annoyed tone.
“Sorry to bother you,” apologized Emily, trying to appease him.
It wasn't certain that this impromptu call was the cause of his irritation, but if in doubt, it was best to try and smooth things over.
“Tell me,” he ordered, his intonation unchanged.
“We've potentially got a resurrected serial killer,” the ex-policeman attested.
“If I tell you: branding on the shoulder, chains on the ankles and whipping. Does it speak to you?” went on Dave, next to him.
A silence passed, during which he had to return to his memories.
“… Yes, but the culprit was sentenced to life.”
“Actually, he passed away last month, Derek clarified. But the last victim was killed on Monday.”
“His accomplice was released for good behavior last year, but his file disappeared, Prentiss explained from across the table. Can you remember his name?”
“I imagine you've already searched the digital archives for this information.”
“Affirmative, confirmed Penelope, who had come with them for the occasion. And there’s nothing. The guy just disappeared.”
The agency manager fell silent again. For a long time. The profilers stared at each other, tense.
“Hotch?” impatiently asked Morgan.
“Just a moment, I'm trying to remember, thundered his superior. His name was… De…”
A loud crash and a breaking glass could be heard in the background, and everyone froze as the giant shouted:
“Jack!”
A door opened and footsteps moved away from the handset. Clearly, the giant had left his phone behind. Tension gripped the whole group, their senses on the alert and their hearts pounding against their ribs. 
“Did we kill tiny-Hotch?” moaned Garcia, on the verge of tears.
In the distance, the voice of the father calling his son made them fear the worst. Then the little boy started screaming at the top of his lungs, and everyone shuddered.
“Apparently not,” ironized Emily, who wasn't putting up much more of a fight than her colleagues.
“What do I do? wondered Derek, unsettled by the situation. I hang up?”
“Maybe he'll come back to us,” Spencer stated uncomfortably.
“I don't think so,” objected JJ, listening intently to the distant din.
“Why?”
“This is clearly the cry of a child in real pain.”
As the only mother in the unit, they trusted her judgment without a hesitation.
“Well, maybe I'll hang up now,” voiced Morgan, ready to press the button.
“Wait,” advised Rossi.
Jack was still crying loudly, perhaps a little quieter than a few moments earlier, but more importantly, they noticed that the sound was now moving. And he grew weaker and weaker until he disappeared completely.
“It sounded a lot like a door slamming,” Prentiss claimed, her eyebrows furrowing.
“You can hang up now,” Dave confirmed.
Derek obeyed sighing. He hadn't expected such a turn of events and now felt guilty about what had just happened. He knew the kid a little and he was always delighted to see him, his eyes shining with admiration every time. Like his counterparts, he didn't know what had occurred, but feared that something grave had happened, which would leave neither the child nor its progenitor unscathed.
“It could have been worse,” pointed out JJ.
Everyone looked at her, bewildered.
“Are you kidding? Retorted the brunette. I don't know what’s going on, but it's serious enough that Hotch left with him.”
“Yes, but Jack was crying.”
“So what?” inquired Morgan, confused.
“That means he was conscious,” Reid attested confidently.
The man who had taken over the leadership of the team when Aaron was absent took a long breath and ordered his peers to get back to work in spite of everything. They worked with this question in the back of their minds: how was Jack doing? Based on the thin clue left by their superior, they searched, groped, and modified their profile until they found a certain Denis Porter, who turned out to be their unsub. All this in record time. Since they were in the neighboring state, they returned to the Quantico offices while it was still daylight. Immediately, the worry that had been nagging them all came back to mind, and synchronously, they looked at their phones. None of them had received a message, which didn't reassure them at all.
“Penelope, do you have any way of knowing which hospital he was admitted to?” inquired JJ.
“Why do you ask? teased her colleague, who immediately took to her keyboard. I'll do it right away, my little ones.”
She typed the toddler's first and last names into her search engine and the result appeared almost instantly on her screen. All gathered around the analyst in her colorful lair, they read the information at the same time.
“Let's go,” commanded Emily, leading the way.
A few minutes later, they jumped in two Bureau SUVs and headed for downtown Washington DC, following the itinerary on their GPS. They parked quickly and hurried to the reception desk. The nurse behind the counter was somewhat surprised to see the herd arrive, armed and determined, but was reassured to see Derek's warm smile. She directed them to the pediatric emergency room on the other side of the building. Together, they made their way through the corridors until they reached another admissions department, where they were given the room number.
They shared a similar fear at this moment. They dreaded discovering the state of the youngster and prayed the titan wasn’t ready to drop again. He'd already suffered enough; he didn't deserve to be in even worse shape. Morgan didn't have the courage to knock on the door, which was ajar but not wide enough for them to see what was going on inside. Rossi did it for him.
“Knock, knock!”
“Come in,” Hotch reacted, in his usual tone.
They took a few steps and saw the boy lying on a bed, in a hospital gown, his head turbaned, but grinning from ear to ear. His father was sitting in a chair on the other side of the bed, and a brief chuckle lifted the corner of his lips. Relieved, all the agents took Jack in their arms one after the other – except Spencer, who simply banged his fist against his. The girls added a kiss on his cheek and told him he was very brave. The effusive reunion over, Aaron declared:
“Denis Porter.”
“Yes, we found him,” Dave replied, squeezing his shoulder.
“Good.”
He didn't have the expression of someone satisfied with their work. He still looked distressed.
“What happened?” said JJ, asking aloud the question they'd all been asking themselves.
“Mister wanted a cookie. I pointed out to him that it wasn't the right time, but he waited until my back was turned to take one.”
“And?” bounced Prentiss.
“Well, he had his cookie. A lot of cookies. And the jar itself.”
The adults' gaze swiveled towards the injured boy, who gave them his best little rascal smile. He had no regrets about what he'd done. Some of the visitors felt sorry for him, once again showering him with hugs, while the others shook their heads in disappointment.
“Concussion?” continued JJ.
“It’s what we’re waiting to see. He has been under observation since 3:30 p.m.”
They reflexively glanced at their watches. He had been here for almost three hours.
“He looks okay, Derek remarked as he sat down on the bed next to him. Right, buddy?”
“Yeah.”
“Tomorrow you'll be a hero at school,” affirmed Rossi, leaning against the bedposts.
“Yeah!” exulted Jack, proudly.
“Because he took a cookie jar to the forehead?” judged Emily, eyebrows furrowed.
“Scars,” Reid whispered, in a tone of obviousness.
“… Guys...” sighed the three women in unison, as they saw the same victorious expression on the faces of their male comrades.
Someone knocked on the door and a nurse entered, a little disconcerted to see so many people in the room.
“Mr. Hotchner?”
“Yes,” responded the interested party, rising to his feet.
“Can you come with me for a moment?”
Instinctively, he turned to his offspring and met his irises.
“We'll look after him, Hotch, Penelope reassured him, having grasped the source of his apprehension. Go.”
His teammates nodded in support, and Aaron very gently kissed his son on his bandaged forehead before leaving the room. Without them needing to ask, the hero of the day began to tell them all about his adventures, dwelling on unimportant details, forgetting the end of some of his sentences to go back and move on to something else, and surely exaggerating certain facts. All this with boundless energy and plenty of grand gestures that definitely appeased them about his state of health.
However, Morgan saw the nurse pass by again in the other direction out of the corner of his eye and was puzzled not to see Hotch reappear immediately afterwards. He waited a little longer, in vain. He apologized to his fellows and returned to the corridor. He discovered the giant a few yards away, leaning against the wall, a document in his hand. His pupils turned towards the ground, he seemed lost. Derek felt a vise tighten around his throat. What if…?
“Trouble?”
“What? gasped the manager, rudely jolted from his thoughts. No. This is the exit voucher. Everything is fine.”
The former policeman relaxed.
“So why the long face?”
The agency head lowered his nose, dodging his gaze, before sighing. Then he lifted his chin and turned his dark irises on him.
“… How did your mother do it?”
“To what?” he reacted, taken aback by this private question.
“To raise three children on her own into perfect adults.”
He couldn't help but burst out laughing, even though his interlocutor had spoken very seriously. At least he understood why he looked so downcast when all the indicators were green. As usual, the ex-prosecutor scourged himself for not having been able to protect a loved one, when there was no reason to do so.
“I'm not sure she'd say that,” he joked to lighten the mood.
“You arrest serial killers and, from what I've seen, your sisters don't seem to be into organized crime.”
Seen like that, indeed, his mother had done a very good job of keeping them on the straight and narrow. But that didn't mean the road wasn't full of bumps.
“Hotch, what happened was an accident, as it happens in every family in the world. I did the same stunt when I was a kid and, obviously, I'm fine.”
It was the truth. He himself had taken a tin of candy on the corner of his skull when he was a little older than the director's son. He had climbed onto a chair and then onto the kitchen counter before stretching out to grab the object of his desire, which his mother had placed as high up in the room as possible. In the end, he found himself in the emergency room with a huge lump on his forehead. The images were no longer so clear in his mind, but he still remembered his mother's concern as she brought him unconscious to the hospital. The same expression of anguish and guilt appeared on his neighbor's face.
“Hotch, Jack's moving, he's talking, and he's got clearance to get out of here. So, everything is okay.”
“Then why do I feel like the worst father in the world?” he retorted, not daring to look up.
He almost replied that it was because he had very low self-esteem, but restrained himself to give him a more consensual, but no less correct answer.
“You were scared for him, it’s normal.”
“But it's not just that, he despaired, peeling himself away from the wall to walk down the corridor. I constantly asking for help. To Jessica, to Haley’s mother, to my own mother… even JJ. I’m incapable of taking care of him all by myself.”
Morgan was touched despite himself by the disarray of his opposite, who was still struggling to adapt to his new life as a single father. Not being in his situation, he couldn't really give him advice, but could always try to make him see reason.
“Hotch, I think all parents ask other people for help. My mother would ask other women in the neighborhood for advice, and some of them would even babysit us. Your mother must have done the same thing, JJ does and I'm pretty sure Haley did too. You're no more incapable than anyone else.”
He and his sisters had spent entire afternoons and weekends at their aunts' so that their mother could work or simply have time for herself, and none of her children had had the audacity to reproach her in any way.
“… I wish I could be as sure as you are.”
Derek rolled his eyes and held back from kicking his butt. His propensity for only seeing the glass as half empty annoyed him to no end, but he tempered his urge to strangle him by reminding himself that the context wasn't helping either. So, he chose a gentler method.
“Does Jack smile?”
“What?” exclaimed Aaron, raising his nose.
“Do you see Jack smiling?”
“Yes.”
“Laugh?”
“Yes.”
“Does he tell you he loves you? Without you having to tell him beforehand or giving him something he wanted?”
“Yes.”
“So, everything is good.”
The giant analyzed the exchange they had just had, and his subordinate saw his features gradually relax. He fixed his gaze in his again and, with a pale smile, said:
“… Thank you.”
Morgan's lips stretched warmly, and he laid a hand on his shoulder in return. The two men then went to the little boy's room, where his father told him the good news.
___
This idea jumped in my head after my first watch of season 5 and this dialogue between Derek and Hotch, where Derek has decided to write his own report to leave more free time for him to take care of Jack (because he knows what it is to be a single parent).
That scene was so cute, that I needed to imagine another peaceful moments between the two of them. Because we all know that they appreciate each other more than they will confess it. Because boys are boys...
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quinnlyyy · 9 months
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morgan and emily: *sneaks into hotel at 2 am*
jj: *turns in swivel chair* care to tell me where you two were?
emily: we were with reid!
reid: *turns in swivel chair* wanna try again?
morgan: we were with garcia?
garcia: *also turns in swivel chair* guess aga- *continues spinning* jj i- I CANT STOP THE CHAIR
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crossover-enthusiast · 2 months
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IT'S THE DUDE!!!
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melodygatesauthor · 4 months
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Goodnight, Princess
Yandere Dad's Best Friend - Santiago Garcia X f!Reader
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Not Beta Read - For @romana-after-dark's Dead Dove December event!
PLEASE READ TAGS/DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS FIC. THERE ARE DARK THEMES!
Summary
Your dad's best friend accidentally discovers that you're a sex worker. He tries to let it go, but it eats away at him until things go way too far.
This fic was written in first person from Santiago's perspective. I know that's not normally something I do, but if you give it a chance I think you'll like it hehe <3
Tags/Warnings
NSFW, non-con, dubious consent, rape, sex, unprotected sex, praise kink, masturbation, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, porn with some plot, smut, creampie, breeding kink if you squint, non-consensual somnophilia, intoxication, implied murder, dad's best friend, age gap, voyeurism, hidden cameras. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT (that means that what you see in the tags WILL be in the fic, don't act surprised when you get exactly what you were warned about.)
Word Count: 5.7k
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I should’ve put a stop to it the second I realized it was you on the other side of that wall.
Don’t ask me how I knew. A good guess? A hunch? Maybe I’d known you so long that I could tell, based on some deep ingrained instinct, exactly what your lips would feel like wrapped around my cock. You sucked on it like you knew what you were doing, like it wasn’t a challenge for you to take something so big in that pretty little mouth.
I recognized the sound of your moans almost right away. The hum of your voice when you started sucking my dick was the same sound you made at dinner the other night when you popped a spoonful of mashed potatoes in your mouth. Does your dad know you’re doing this? Do you care? Do you ever worry about what he might say if he finds out?
Don’t worry princess, I'll keep your secret. 
Our secret.
I bet you never thought I would find out about your slutty little side job. To be entirely honest, I didn’t think I’d find you working at a place like this. If you know me at all, and I know for a fact that you do, then you’d know I’m a lonely man. Years of serving in the military and the endless night terrors have made it difficult to find any sort of real relationship, so I’ve given up. That doesn’t mean I don’t still have needs, sweetheart.
Everybody jerks off, and I’m no exception. I don’t even know how many nights I’ve been in my room, cock in hand while I watch some crappy porno to get myself off. Every once in a while though, I like to treat myself to a little something more. Most people treat themselves to some kind of dessert, or a nice bottle of wine, but I like to treat myself to a night at Club BJ where all the dirty men go to get their rocks off.
I never thought I’d find you there.
Not a chance in hell did I think for even a second that you would be sucking random cocks on the other side of a gloryhole to earn a few extra bucks. You’re so good at it though, princess. How did you learn to swirl your tongue like that? Hm? Was it all the boys at college who taught you how to do that? Did they tell you what a pretty little girl you are while your lips were stretched around them?
They better have. They better have said thank you when they finished all over that beautiful face too.
I couldn’t speak to you. I couldn’t let you know it was me on the other side of that wall, so I hope the $200 tip I left you gets the point across. 
When I got home tonight, you were running through my mind like a fucking hamster on a wheel. I’m not sure what to do now, but I can’t shake how bad I want to go back to the club for another round. I’d pay thousands, probably even tens of thousands, just to have more…
But I can’t do that. Not to you, and not to your dad.
That was the first and only time I’m going to know what it’s like to feel you sucking my cock.
There’s no possible way for you to know what you do to me, well, for you to know that it was me on the other side of the hole that you were making feel so fucking good. I’m coming back again, despite promising I wouldn’t. I’ve been trying so hard to let it go, but I fucking can’t. You’re like a goddamn siren luring me back to that shithole, and I can’t resist your call.
I’ll be back on Friday, because that’s the night they set the girls up with their asses sticking out through the wall. I would assume the club has you bent over some kind of table on the other side of that wall? I’m not sure, but Friday can’t come soon enough. I feel like I need you.
Maybe if you hadn’t looked at me the way you did when I saw you today at your dad’s for dinner. Were you looking at me like that on purpose, sweetheart? I mean, you must be…right? Or have I completely lost my shit?
I probably lost my shit, let’s be honest.
I’ve known your dad since high school. I even helped him beat up a guy that was hitting on your mom back when she and your dad had just started dating. I’m really not a bad guy, and I’ve never looked at you like this. I mean it. But how can I look at you any differently now? How can I look at you any differently after what you did to me? What you did for me.
“Santi, can you pass the butter?” You asked, looking at me, probably no different than usual but I couldn’t think of anything other than those pouty lips wrapped around my dick again.
Did you notice the way my hand shook when I handed you the butter dish? Maybe not, but they were trembling and to be honest it was fucking annoying. I’m a man in his late thirties and I can’t get a grip on the feelings I’m developing for my best friend's goddamn kid. It’s wrong, disgusting, hell I’d kill someone if you were my kid.
But you’re not, and I can’t fucking help it, even though I tried.
Maybe someday, if you ever find out about any of this, I’ll tell you about how much I hated myself (hell, I still hate myself sometimes), when I came home with that post nut clarity. That might’ve been the best blowjob of my life, but I stood in front of my mirror for a good ten minutes trying to tell myself that I’d never go back to that hellhole, Club BJs. I meant it with all my heart when I said it over and over like a mantra.
Now I’m stuck though. I’m stuck thinking about you bent over with a wall separating the top half of your body from the bottom with countless men fucking you until you’re so full of cum you looked like a damn overstuffed pastry. You deserve to feel good. You deserve to have at least one of those men be someone that cares about you.
I guess I’ll have to be the one to do it. I guess this is how I’ll justify doing something I know I shouldn’t.
I’ll see you on Friday, princess.
It makes me feel a little bit better to know that every man in there is at least checked for STDs before he gets to fuck you. Surely you wouldn’t have signed up to work at a place like this if they weren’t. You’re smart, you’ve always been so smart. It’s one of the things I admire most about you.
Still not clever enough to know that I was one of those men who stood behind you that night. In fact, I was your last customer of the night. Your pussy was so puffy and swollen, those guys really stretched you out and fucked you good didn’t they? Don’t worry, princess, I took good care of you and gave your little hole a break. I won’t lie, it took everything in me not to use you the way they did, but I’ll do that another time.
Tonight I was on my knees for you, grabbing onto both of your asscheeks and spreading you out so I could clean up the mess those filthy men made of my little princess. You sounded so surprised, I heard you gasp, when I started eating you out. Did you like that? It sounded like you did. I could feel your thighs shaking and at some point you even started rocking back and forth like you wanted more.
Maybe you wanted me to fuck you. Were you hoping that the mystery man on the other side of the wall would clean you up and then fuck his own cum into you too? Or maybe you were happy to have the break. Either way, I licked your swollen clit until I could hear your pretty moans on the other side and feel your cunt throbbing against my tongue. Your slick tastes so good sweetheart, can’t believe you made something so delicious all by yourself.
“You’re not going to fuck me?” You asked me. I could almost hear the desperation in your voice, like you were begging me to come back and take you.
“No.” I said firmly, faking a deeper voice than my own.
Next time I will though, don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll fuck you so good you won’t want anyone else.
The same night I ate you out I rushed home to jerk off. It sounds crude to say, but fuck I couldn’t help it. The taste of your pussy was still on my lips. I could still smell you soaked into the stubble on my chin and upper lip. I’m making a mental note to snag a pair of your panties when I come over for the barbecue at your dad’s tomorrow night. Maybe that will help get me through this mess I’m in. Maybe it will help me stop this shit.
I know I can’t keep doing this, but the feeling I get when I’m scrolling through your instagram photos from last summer in your bikini with my cock squeezed in my hand is incredible. I’m looking at those perfect tits hidden beneath such a thin layer of fabric, and your pretty rear is barely covered at all.
When I came it’s like I was possessed, blowing up a picture of your face just so I could imagine myself coating it in all of me. I don’t even really want to talk about how hard it was to clean that mess off my phone.
I feel like I’m losing myself in the depraved thoughts and fantasies I’m having of you. I woke up with soaked sheets and I thought I fucking pissed myself, but I didn’t, it was…something else. I’d dreamt of you. I can’t remember exactly what was happening in that dream, but it must’ve been good, and I’m annoyed that I still can’t remember what it was about.
A small part of me, the part of me that still had some morals left, was hoping you’d be working your day job. (honestly I can’t even remember what your day job is, aren’t you a housekeeper? Or a waitress or something?) At least if you were working I wouldn’t have to see you. I wouldn’t have to think about you more than I already was. Not to mention, I wouldn’t have had to sit there and watch you laugh with your ‘friend’ that you’d invited over.
You told your dad when you introduced him, “we’re just friends dad.”
You said it with such an attitude that both your dad and I knew better. You might’ve thought you were just friends, but that guy wanted more, and I knew you were going to give it to him. I could tell by the way you looked at him when you thought no one was paying attention.
I bet you didn’t think I’d hear you both making out in your room that night, but your moans call me now like a moth to a flame. The other barbecue guests had gone home, and your dad was drunk and passed out in his recliner, and I heard you faintly over the hum of the crappy reality show on tv. I didn’t pause the show, I didn’t want to wake up your dad, so I went upstairs silently, masked by the sound on the tv.
Initially, I wanted to walk in there and rip this kid off of you, giving him a few vicious but empty threats before sending him on his way with his tail between his legs. Your voice stopped me in my tracks though.
“Shh, I don’t want my dad to hear us,” you whispered, followed by a sweet giggle.
He won’t, princess. I thought, as though it were me you were talking to and not this loser.
You’d left your bedroom door open, per your dad’s request, such a good little girl. Despite being a grown woman, you still did what your daddy told you, and that’s the only reason I was able to hide in the bathroom and hear you get fucked while I jerked off and imagined I was with you instead of…whatever the fuck his name is.
“Oh god!” You whined, making my body shudder.
That guy doesn’t talk much, and that made it all the easier for me to imagine myself in his place.
When you said, “mm, harder, please…”
I was right there to say, “anything you want, sweetheart.”
I tried to move my hand in time with the light thump of your bed against the wall. It helped. What didn’t help was the fact that I could tell how little you were enjoying yourself. You were making the same sounds you made when you were ass out at the gloryhole. I knew I could do better, I knew I could make your body shake with pleasure like when I was kneeling down behind you with my tongue working overtime on your sensitive clit.
You were pretty good at faking it though, good enough that I was a leaking mess, precum dripping all down my shaft while I worked myself behind the wall your bedroom shared with the bathroom. I really wanted to go in there, tell that guy to get lost and give you the night of your life, but I didn’t. Instead I stood there, spilling a few globs of cum into some toilet paper and calling it good enough.
I was quick to head back downstairs before you even knew I was up there in the first place. That guy had the audacity to say goodnight to me in the kitchen on his way out the door. I let that go pretty quickly because then it was just you and me alone in the kitchen while your dad slept soundly in the living room.
You have no idea how badly I wanted to ask you for the pleasure of taking care of you, of making sure that you got off too, but I bit my tongue. Instead we made small talk about how your college was going and you asked me about Benny, Frankie and Will. 
For a moment I had forgotten about all the things that transpired between us, or that I’d done while thinking about you, and you were just my best friend’s kid again. We were just two people who had known each other for a long time, catching up and making small talk. Then you had to bend over in your shorts, and my cock ignored its usual refractory period to spring alive and nag for attention again.
“You okay, Santi?” You’d asked so innocently, as if I didn’t know what that mouth was capable of, or what that body could take.
“I’m fine, sweetheart.”
I’m not fucking fine, but that doesn’t matter.
You slept like a rock that night, not even stirring in the slightest when I grabbed your panties out of your hamper by the closet. They didn’t look particularly fancy, so I assume you won’t miss them, will you? Doesn’t matter anyway, you’d never expect that I’m the one who took them.
I can’t even begin to tell you how disgusting I felt when I got home the next morning and I had placed your panties on my bed in front of me like a prize I’d won. I think I stared at them for at least a full ten minutes before I picked them up again and put them in my nightstand. I’ve never been a “panty sniffer” and I tried to convince myself that just knowing I had them in my possession was enough.
Have you ever read The Tell-Tale Heart? I remember when I was in high school I had to, and it stuck with me for some reason. Your underwear in my nightstand reminded me of that story in some ways. It’s like all I could hear were your moans in my ears and no matter where I went in the house the temptation to smell the remnants of your cunt on that fabric was following me.
So finally, here I am, two weeks after you first sucked my cock, and I can shamefully admit that I did it. I smelled them, and sweetheart, you smell so much better without all that cum inside of you. Of course the panties can’t compare to the real thing, which I don’t know if I’ll ever smell without six loads of spend inside, but god I hope I get the privilege one day.
Or maybe I hope I don’t.
I’m still so torn between the fact that you’re my best friend’s kid, and the way I want to bury my dick so far in that pretty little cunt that you’re seeing stars.
I was first in line tonight. It’s Friday night so your ass was out again and untouched this time. You weren’t wet yet which excited me for some reason. It meant I got to have the honors of making you nice and slick.
My hand looks so big against your ass, princess. I wish I could show you. That was me who rubbed your clit, making you shake and whine for more on the other side of the wall. I’m the one who slipped my thick middle finger in that greedy little hole, and then my index finger, and then the ring finger.
I’m guessing you liked it based on how slippery you got, and how much you moaned on the other side. Do you know how dedicated your customers are? One of them got pissed at me for taking too long with you. I can’t say I blame them, your pussy is perfect sweetheart.
God the feeling of sliding my dick between those pretty pussy lips is like nothing I’ve ever felt. As I bottomed out, I felt your walls were squeezing around me like you wanted me deeper, so of course I pushed in more, all the way until I couldn’t go further. You gasped like you hadn’t felt a hundred dicks inside you before mine. 
I slid back again and slammed into you. I heard you begging me to keeping going, and saying, “fuck you’re good, holy shit!”
It was so hard not to say all the filthy things I wanted to when I fucked you, princess. I wanted to tell you how good you looked like that, pussy lips split around my cock like it wanted to swallow me whole. I wanted to ask you if you would like me to stick my thumb in your ass but decided to just try it anyway and see how you reacted.
You liked it.
At least it seemed like you did, your cunt clamped down around my dick like a damn vice grip the moment my thumb popped through your tight little hole. Did you like having something in your ass sweetheart? It’s shocking how tight you are, given how often I know you’re getting fucked. Some of the guys coming in behind me were big, some even bigger than me, but you don’t like them as much as you do when I fuck you, right? Of course not, because you don’t sound like that when you’re with them.
I caught a small glimpse of your eye through the hole. There was a small gap between the wall and your hips and you were looking at the same time I was. Did you see me? Did you have time to realize who I was? Did you come right then and there because you liked the idea of your dad’s best friend fucking you until you were too spent for anyone else?
Your orgasm forced me to come at the same time you did. I can’t even begin to tell you what it felt like to spill my load inside of you like I’d wanted to for so long. I remember so clearly being pushed up against your ass, pulling my thumb out of your hole so I could squeeze your hips and pull you over my dick further. It’s like I was willing every ounce of it to fill you up so full that no one else could. It’s like I was trying to make sure that when you look in the mirror a few months from now, you’ll remember the feeling of the man who fucked a baby into you.
I’m not an idiot. Well, I am, but I know that you’re on birth control. I know that no matter how many times I fuck you, the chances of you actually getting pregant are slim, not that I’d want to get you pregnant anyway. That would be too much, and I don’t want to go too far.
I’m not going to go too far.
I went to your house today.
I already had an excuse planned if I somehow got caught while you and your dad were out. If you or your father saw me, I’d say I came back for my hat. It’s not a total lie, I did leave my hat behind, but neither of you needed to know it was on purpose.
Do you realize how much dust has collected on the little stuffed bear you have on the shelf facing directly across from your bed, sweetheart? I doubt it, but it does make for the perfect place to put the small camera I bought.
I feel so fucking gross I can hardly stand to look at myself. But I can’t stand not to watch you touch yourself either. The glory hole is great, but I want to see that pretty face when you’re coming so hard you can’t breathe right, and I can’t do that when I’m on the other side of a fucking wall can I?
Seeing you later that night while I was at my own house, fist closed around my cock and watching you play with yourself is worth all the self loathing in the world. I had the camera feed pulled up on my laptop, and I could see you walking over to your dresser. God, what an array of toys you have. Do you have all those toys because you like them? Or is it because you haven’t found someone who knows their way around your body yet?
If it’s the latter, I promise you won’t need those things once I’m done with you.
Fuck, princess. The one you picked out is so damn big. I’ve seen you fit some pretty big cocks in that little hole, but I was shocked to see you squeezing lube around the head of that thing and gliding it over your pussy lips. You took a deep breath. Does it hurt to take such a fat silicone dick like that? 
Fuck, I’m glad I put the camera where I did. Who had you so wet like that? Hm? Were you thinking about anyone in particular? Can you even get that entire dildo in there? I hated to admit how much I liked watching you struggle. My cock leaked so fucking much I thought I was going to come too fast, but I kept it together.
You finally pushed it in, and I’m so damn proud of you princess. You had a really hard time going all the way though, didn’t you? That tight little pussy of yours was stretched to its limit and you were only halfway in there. Why do you even have a dildo that size if you can’t get it all the way in your cunt? Are you trying to stretch yourself out for someone? You don’t have to stretch yourself for me, I’d be happy to take care of that for you myself.
I watched you push it in even more, I was so focused on the furrow of your turned up brow and the way you bit your lip while I stared. We both exhaled the moment you managed to fit the entire thing in. Your eyes rolled back like it was the best thing you’d ever felt. You really do enjoy being stuffed full, don’t you, sweetheart?
You started fucking yourself with it, the sounds of your wet cunt hit my ears like the sweetest music I’d ever heard. I stroked myself in time with your movements, my eyes focused right on your face, and my cock throbbed every time you moaned. Wasn’t your dad home tonight? Shouldn’t you be a bit quieter when you’re doing stuff like that? Maybe you just don’t care if he hears you.
You started fucking yourself faster so of course I was jerking myself harder, trying to keep up with you without losing it too quickly. It didn’t take long for you to come though. Did you like the feeling of that toy that much? You gushed around it, you choked back some moans but several other soft whimpers escaped, filling your room and hitting my ears through the camera feed. I came too, coating my knuckles and my stomach with so much cum I didn’t know I was even capable of producing that much.
Why’d you have to ruin it? Huh?
It was such a good fucking orgasm for both of us, and then I heard you say a name. It wasn’t my name though, was it, princess? I don’t know why that bothers me so fucking much. Maybe it’s because in some twisted way I’ve managed to convince myself that you were putting on that private show just for me. So if you did do it for me, then I don’t want to hear you saying some other guy’s name while you’re fucking your self like that sweetheart. 
I just don’t.
I lost it today.
I really fucking lost it today, princess.
I found that guy. You know the one who fucked you the other night while I jerked off in the bathroom? That ‘friend’ of yours? The one whose name you called out instead of mine?
I found him.
I…
Did you miss me, sweetheart? I’m sorry, but I had to leave for a while, at least until things quieted down, and until you weren’t sad anymore. I know I should feel bad, but I don’t. I would probably do it again a thousand times if I had to.
You seemed fine during dinner at your dad’s tonight. I don’t really think you were that upset over the guy anyway, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to hear his name come out of that pretty mouth again. Ever.
After too much wine during (and after) dinner, I carried you upstairs. You never could handle your liquor. Remember when you were only eighteen and I would let you sneak a few shots under your old man’s nose when he wasn’t looking? Your dad was sleeping when I put you down gently in your bed. Your skin is so fucking soft it killed me to step away from you.
Your eyes opened for a moment meeting with mine. I felt my gut stir at the sight of you biting your lip. Why were you doing that to me? Didn’t you know how that would affect me? I couldn’t resist the way you looked at me that night. No one would’ve been able to. It’s not fair for you to put me in that position and expect that I’m just going to walk away. When I think back to it, this was all your fault, princess.
“Santi,” you said sweetly.
I almost climbed on top of you right then when you grabbed my shirt and pulled me closer. I almost grabbed your throat and fucked you through your shorts, but I held back.
“What, princess?” I asked you, putting a caring hand on your shoulder, trying to fight back my more primal urges screaming in my head.
You shivered, “I-mm-need something towearto mm-bed,” you slurred out.
I could see the curve of your hip disappear into your too-short shorts. I really don’t want you going out in public wearing things like that. I gave you my shirt to keep you warm. I hope it’s comfortable, sweetheart, I can’t let you go cold, can I? When I leaned down to put it over your head, I felt such a fucking ache in my chest when your face appeared again through the hole. Such a pretty babygirl.
“Thank you,” you smiled contentedly and snuggled into your pillows.
I gulped, “princess,” I whispered, slowly creeping my fingers toward the hem of your shorts where they rested on your waist.
“Hm?” You hummed, but you weren’t really awake anymore, from what I could tell.
When I touched your soft, exposed hip you didn’t stir at all, and when I slipped my fingers underneath your panties, then your shorts, you didn’t make a sound. When I pushed both down to your ankles and dropped them on the floor, you didn’t open your eyes. You didn’t have any fucking clue what I was going to do to you, did you?
Did you feel my fingers when I slipped them between your thighs and felt your little wet cunt? I bet you did, even if you didn’t realize you were feeling it. I thought I would wake you up for sure when I pushed you onto your back and climbed over you. And when that didn’t wake you up, I thought, without a doubt, that when I pulled my cock out and touched it against your slick pussy lips your eyes would shoot open and you’d catch me in the act.
You didn’t though, you stayed deep in your drunken sleep, and I could get away with doing anything I wanted to you.
I’m still wondering what I would’ve done if you’d caught me. What would I say? How would I justify this feeling I craved that only you could satisfy? Would I even need to say anything? Surely you would recognize the feeling of the cock that made you come so good in that glory hole. Surely you’d be desperate for me to keep going.
Being able to look at your face, even if you were asleep, while I slid my dick into your wet heat made my brain stop fucking working. I couldn’t even think. It was like my body just took over, hips rocking into you over and over without a care in the world for how loud the bed was creaking.
You still didn’t feel anything when I dipped down and kissed you, my hips still thrusting slowly against you. This isn’t a Disney movie, and I’m no prince charming, but you’re still my little princess, aren’t you? You’re like my personal sleeping beauty, except my soft kisses didn’t wake you from your drunken slumber.
Thank god.
I kissed all the way down your jawbone until I got to your neck. You’re so soft, and you smell so nice. I kinda wish you’d been awake so I could’ve heard you whimper and whine in my ear. I want to hear you tell me how good it feels to have my cock slamming into your pussy, sweetheart. I want to feel your lips on my neck, my chest, all over my body.
“You take me so well, princess.” I whispered in your ear, hoping that somewhere deep in your dreams you’d hear my words and know I was inside you. “You feel so good, I can’t stop. Never felt anything-so-fucking-g-good-I-f-fuck…”
I came so much that when I pulled back my cum poured out of you as if my cock was a dam holding back a river. I still wonder if I should’ve cleaned you up, but I didn’t. Maybe you’d remember that I was the one who brought you upstairs and you’d put the pieces together.
I can imagine it now, you waking up in the morning with a dried up substance between your thighs. You might not know what it is right away, but I’m sure when you go to the bathroom and notice the hickeys peppered all over your neck, you’ll know that something must’ve happened to you the night before.
I’m not sure what to do now.
I need to have you for myself, that much is clear. The thought of someone else touching you ever again is killing me, so I have to take you. I’ll take you away from all this shit, and I’ll take good care of you. You won’t have to work at that nasty place anymore, I’ll be sure of that. And please don’t worry, princess. When your dad is looking for you, and he needs a friend to help him through the tough times, and the times he’s missing you, I’ll be that friend. He will only be sad for a little while. 
If things go wrong, and someone finds this…well I guess it’s a journal isn’t it? I won’t be able to deny the things I’ve done. I should burn it, but I can’t bring myself to do that. When I read it back, it’s almost like I can relive our time together. Someday I might show you this so you can understand why I did what I had to do, why I have to keep you.
Until then, I hope you sleep well tonight, your final night in your childhood home. I hope you enjoy your last breakfast with your loving dad, and that the two of you don’t argue before he leaves for work. Make sure you give him a kiss on the cheek and tell him you love him, because I’ll be over before he gets home from work.
Goodnight, princess.
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kindlespark · 5 months
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i'd steal the moon, love
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spentfromspence · 1 year
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Derek: I bet your password is something stupid like 'password'
Penelope: ...
Derek: Oh my god.
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dianasourflower · 6 months
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wait a fucking minute-
THIS
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is literally =
THIS
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kill me if im wrong
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redkid001 · 7 months
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Garcia: I truly believe that water can solve all your problems.
Morgan: Weight loss? Drink water.
JJ: Clear skin? Drink water.
Prentiss: Want to get rid of someone? Drown them.
219 notes · View notes
ddejavvu · 2 years
Conversation
Hotch: good work garcia, kys.
Garcia: ...sir?
Hotch: keep yourself safe.
Garcia: who taught you that?
Hotch: Prentiss, why?
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hazeerror · 5 months
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Father Garcia got a new gun and he is proud of it!
111 notes · View notes
veeluvss · 1 year
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How the team would react to you being personally connected to a case:
Female edition
I want this to be a sweet, oneshot kind of vibe with each character
Reader is personally connected to a case, each different for each character
Please ask for requests :)
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JJ -
you’re back at your home town, dealing with a case close to childhood friends.
You couldn’t look in the eye of any of the team. Your childhood best friend had grown up be an unsub: murdering young girls. At first, you ran up to them, hugged them. They even kissed you but the growing suspicion in your gut made you suspect the one person who got you through childhood. The one person you thanked your lucky stars for everyday.
JJ walked over to you, a coffee for you in her hand and sat opposite you. She slid you the coffee and took a sip of her own.
“It’s not your fault,” she whispered gently. You scoffed. “It’s not. You had no idea. These things happen to people unfortunately. Please don’t blame yourself, love.”
You sighed, “maybe if I spoke to him more - paid for his therapy it would be different.”
“Maybe so, but maybe not. Don’t blame yourself for living your own life y/n. He’s responsible for his own actions,” she muttered. Your eyes filled with tears and you let your shoulders slump. JJ set down her coffee and moved to the sofa seat beside you. The simple, gentle rub on your back made the dam break. She pulled you into her arms, holding your head close to her chest. You needed this hug.
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Emily-
The victim has experienced the same trauma as you, forcing you to confront your own demons during the cognitive interview.
“Hey, y/n, wait up.” Emily said quickly as you left the room. Your heart was pounding hard in your chest, your vision was blurry- you felt sick. You didn’t want to wait up. You felt as if you could hurl at any moment. Yet, it was Emily and you couldn’t not listen to her.
You turned to her, hot tears streaming down your cheeks and her face was full of concern. “What’s happened?” She asked, resting her hand on your shaking ones as you rubbed them furiously together. You were hyper aware of the multiple people around you and you felt vulnerable. Emily, being the best profiler, knew this and walked you into a side room. She shut the door softly and you fell into even more tears. She grabbed you, holding you close.
“My dad-“ you stuttered out, in her arms. “He did the same.”
“Oh, honey,” she held you tighter, stroking your hair. “Do you want to sit out of this one?” She asked and you didn’t want to, you didn’t want to leave because people would ask questions but all of your emotions were driving you wild. You only nodded in her arms and she planted a soft kiss on your temple.
“That’s okay, you head back to the hotel and I’ll tell the team you’re poorly. Do you want me to come with you?” You shook your head but sent her a small thank you whilst wiping your tears.
“I’ll come check on you later,” she whispered, caressing your arm and looking at you with big eyes.
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PG-
You had distanced yourself from the team after a particularly tough case. No one knew why but Garcia, after investigating. She sends you a voicemail.
“Hey my sugar,
So don’t hate me but I was a little worried about you. I know, I know, you told us all not to be but I haven’t seen you around recently. I miss you and your little laugh. And your little legs too. *giggle*
I saw that you were related to the unsub. I’m sorry sweetheart, I really am. It’s not a good feeling to have and sometimes we all need a little rest. That’s okay.
However; we all need a pick me up to. I’ll be at yours for 5pm. With wine, ice-cream and some kittens - I’ve been adopting them.
I love you so much y/n. I hope you know that. The whole team are here for you and I’m always here as a shoulder to cry on.
Your love,
PG.”
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Tara-
The unsub suffers from the same mental health disorder as you. You feel victimised by the team as they list off the symptoms similar to yours.
You stood in the corner, arms crossed, face flat. The team presented their profile - making sure the officers knew exactly who they were looking for but at this point, they may as well be looking for you. Yet you’d tried to tell them the profile was wrong. He wasn’t suffering from this condition, no matter how much he said he was in his letters. Once the group dispersed, Tara noticed you staring at the floor. She knew instantly, knowing all about your diagnosis as she was the one who suggested you talk to a professional.
“We know that not everyone with this condition is this violent,” Tara muttered to you, standing beside you and playing with files. You scoffed and put some hair behind your ear.
“Sure as hell seems like you think it,” you sighed.
“Y/n,” Tara sighed, turning to you. “This unsub has another branch, another brain to you. All mental health is different and although you fall under the same tree it doesn’t mean you’re anything like him.”
“Tell that to the rest of the team who seem to think I’m capable of cold blooded murder,” you groaned, walking away.
Half an hour later, Tara came to the team. “I think I’ve found a trigger.” She told them. She went on to explain what she thought made the unsub start killing. “And I’ve done some research,” she sighed, glancing at you. “*insert mental disorder* has a tendency to make the sufferer timid and shy around others - not violent. Actually the opposite so although he says he has it on the ransom notes, it doesn’t fit the profile.”
“They’re not violent?”
“No. They stir away from violence and confrontation.” Tara confirmed.
“Okay so he doesn’t have it then,” JJ said. You nodded, smiling. You knew you were right.
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quinnlyyy · 9 months
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rossi: who the fuck added me to a groupchat
jj: language, rossi
garcia: yeah watch your fucking language!
morgan: okay who taught garcia the fuck word
emily: 'the fuck word'
reid: you guys see the f word all the time...
garcia: oh my god he censored it
emily: say fuck, reid
morgan: do it, reid. say fuck.
2K notes · View notes
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If Garcia is Mr. Clown I'm absolutely expecting one of those reveals where he starts with a little chuckle before building to the loud manic laughter we all know Mr. Clown for, before bashing someone over the head with his briefcase
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melodygatesauthor · 1 year
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Worth the Risk - Part 1: The Dishwasher
bfd!Santiago "Pope" Garcia X f!Reader
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Series Masterlist - AO3 LINK
Summary
You're visiting your home town on college break and you are staying overnight at your best friend's house. You never realized how attractive her dad was until that night. You wonder if he feels the same.
Tags/Warnings
NSFW, forbidden relationship, reader is in her 20s, best friend's dad!Santi, Santiago is a dirty man y'all, not much else to say, smut, depraved, corruption kink
Word Count: 3.7k
Also, this tied in with a request from @romanarose <3 thank you bb for requesting!
“It’s been so long.” You said, wrapping your arms around your friend tightly.
You took in her smell, so happy to see her again after so much time had gone by. It had only been a few months, but it felt like years sometimes.
“I know!” She yelled in your ear before pulling back to look you up and down. “How have you been?”
You sighed, “I’ve been pretty good, wanted to make sure I came to see you for the night before going back to school.”
“I’m sorry about Cody.” She gave you a sympathetic look.
“It’s fine I-” you started, but then you caught her father out of the corner of your eye.
“Hey…!” Mr. Garcia said, coming up behind Maria with a smile 
“Hey Mr. Garcia.” You said, wrapping your arms around him.
“How long is it going to take for you to start calling me Santi? Or at least Santiago?” He smirked. “You make me feel old.”
“You are old, dad.” Maria said, chuckling. “Come on, let’s go to my room.” Your friend grabbed your hand and tugged you along.
Goodness you’ve grown, Santi thought, watching you run off with Maria. Over the last couple years, since you’d started going to college, your schedule didn’t line up with the times Maria had been at his house, and he hadn’t seen you in a long time. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed.
Maria’s room hadn’t changed since you last saw it. It was still pink and bubbly, matching her personality perfectly. You always thought she had the coolest window, fit with a reading nook and big sheer curtains. You sat down on her bed, dropped your duffle bag on the floor, and she went to her desk, opening her laptop. She put on some pop music in the background and then turned to you.
“So, spill it, what happened with Cody?” She asked, giving you a devilish smirk. “Tell me all the dirty details. I wanna know how you fucked him over.”
You rolled your eyes. “I already told you over the phone. He cheated on me.” You sighed, “can we please just not do this right now? I…I don’t really wanna talk about him. He’s a loser.”
“With his ex? What’s her name?” You watched her open a browser and get onto her social media account.
“I really don’t want to do this Maria, can we just forget about it? Please?” You begged.
She looked at you, her eyes said she was ignoring your request to stop and wanted you to tell her anyway, but eventually she gave up, closing the browser.
“You’re so boring. Fine.” She groaned. “So other than that, what have you been up to?”
You told her everything you’d done over the last few months. You talked about your parents, any cute professors you had, and new friends you’d met. The conversation moved on to her talking about a new guy she met at her school. She’d stayed more local than you had, but you were only a few hours away. She then told you about how she was madly in love with him before she got on talking about how annoying her father could be.
“You know how he is. When the guy came over for dinner the other night dad got all, you’d better take good care of her.” She scoffed. “He’s such an old man.”
“He just worries about you.” You reminded her. “And he’s not that old. My dad is old.” You chuckled. “Your dad is like forty.”
“Yeah.” She said looking at you incredulously, “old.”
“Girls! Come on down, it’s time for dinner!” He called up.
You followed Maria down the stairs and to the kitchen. Santi always made the best meals when you would come over during your high school days, and now was no different. You sat down to his right and thanked him for dinner, a soft smirk spread across his lips. You took a sip of your water.
Santiago tried to keep his eyes on your face, but your tank top left little to the imagination. Weren’t you too young to be dressing like that? No, of course not, you were an adult now. His throat bobbed when he gulped, blinking and trying to peel his gaze away from the beautiful way your breasts pushed together. Were you even wearing a bra? Did he forget to turn the heat up?
“Dad?”
You saw Santi visibly jump when he looked over at Maria. Had he been staring at you? You didn’t realize until you looked up and thought you’d seen his eyes on you. Heat rose to your cheeks.
“Yeah baby?” He asked, raising his eyebrows toward Maria.
“Can you pass the butter?” He sucked in a deep breath, “yeah, here you go.” He handed it to her. “So…” he said your name, “Maria tells me that you’re going through a breakup?” He raised his dark brows when he looked at you.
“Um…” You felt awkward talking about it in front of him. You didn’t know why she always had to make your business everyone’s business. “Yeah. I’d rather not talk about it though.”
“Those boys your age are the worst. Trust me.” He bit into his food, and you did the same.
You smirked, “yeah, I think the next guy I date should be someone older. I’m sick of boys.”
Santi almost choked on his food, having to remind himself to chew before he swallowed his piece of steak whole. He passed a glance at you, your eyes met. You could see what was happening. It had never occurred to you, having an interest in your best friend’s dad, but he was very handsome. You licked your lips before breaking eye contact and looking back down at your plate.
Maria took the conversation away, going on about her new business class, which she hadn’t had a chance to tell you about earlier. Neither you or Santiago were listening. You were thinking about this weird feeling you had. You’d never thought about him like that before, but now you were remembering all the times you’d seen him at the pool, or coming out of the shower with nothing but a towel around his waist.
Mr. Garcia…
At some point during the meal, you looked over and noticed Santi looking at you, and you quickly looked away, not sure what he was looking at you for. There was no way that he felt the same, right? This was just a silly crush forming, nothing serious. This was one of those things that young adults did right? It was just foolish.
You gulped down some more water, trying to clear your thoughts, but then clumsily dropped it on the table, and the water trailed off into Santi’s lap.
“Shit.” You muttered, grabbing your napkin and quickly rushing over.
You had been so worried about the fact that you spilled the liquid on him, that you didn’t think about how inappropriate it probably was to be patting your friend’s dad’s thigh. Santi was in shock, sitting there immobile at your quick hands patting over his lap in repetition. His thoughts were dirty, filthy even. You were so sweet, not realizing the effect you had on him at that moment.
All at once you felt the heat rise to your cheeks and you dropped the towel in his lap.
“I’m-uh-I’m really sorry.” You stepped back, finally realizing the awkwardness you’d caused.
“No it’s…” He caught your gaze with an intense stare. “It’s fine.” His eyes lingered on yours for a second too long before he looked back down at his lap. “I’m gonna go change.” He dropped the towel on the table.
“Mr. Gar-I mean, Santi, I’m really-”
“It’s fine, it’s just water. Maria, clean up please.” He stood up and rushed away quickly.
He ran to his room and slammed the door behind him, pressing his back to the wall. His breathing was staggered and heavy. He locked the door and unbuttoned his wet pants. When you’d spilled the water and then rushed over, pressing your hands and towel to his thigh, you’d brushed up along his cock. He always thought you were a pretty girl, but he also always stopped it at that. Any further thought would have been downright inappropriate.
He couldn’t help himself now though. He pulled down his boxer-briefs and jeans and stepped out of them. His cock was aching, standing erect, already leaking from the head. His hand fisted around it. You’d hardly touched him, but then again, it had been so long since he’d felt anyone’s grip besides his own. He spit into his hand, lubricating his palm so it would glide over the length of his member. For a second he thought about you, and how much he’d love to feel you-
“Fuck.” He said to himself alone.
He removed his hand from himself, and stood there for a while letting his cock soften. He couldn’t go on thinking like that. He couldn’t possibly imagine himself jerking to completion at the thought of his daughter’s best friend. Yes, you were an adult, but you were so much younger than him, it wasn’t right. He couldn’t bear what his daughter would think\ if she found out. She would hate him. Not to mention, a girl like you, who looked the way you did, probably wouldn’t even be interested in someone like him, nevermind the fact that he was your friend’s dad.
“I’m gonna go check on him.” Maria said to you when Santi had been gone for quite some time. “Do you mind putting the dishes in the dishwasher? You can come up to my room when you’re done.”
“Yeah sure.” You said, starting to clear the table.
He was changed and in the hall by the time Maria came up. He asked where you were, and she told him you were loading the dishwasher. All too eagerly, he trekked down the stairs and headed for the kitchen. He was prepared to tell you that you didn’t have to finish and you could go right up to hang out with Maria, but when he saw you, or rather, your prominent rear, he couldn’t speak.
You were bent down, the bottoms of your cheeks were peeking out through the hem of your shorts. He ran a hand over his mouth while he stared shamelessly at you. The work he’d done to focus his cock into softening was all for nothing now. You were really testing his self control.
When you spun around, you saw Santi standing there. He jumped nearly five feet when you saw him, and you did the same. You grabbed the kitchen counter and breathed heavily.
“Jesus, Santi, I didn’t see you there.” You chuckled nervously. “You scared the shit out of me.”
He chuckled too, “likewise. You don’t have to do that, the dishes, I can finish up. Maria always finds a way to get out of doing the shit I ask her to.”
“Oh, it’s not a problem.” You said turning back around, slowly bending over and then standing to lift the dishwasher door closed. You were playing with fire. “Just tell me what button to-”
You felt his chest nearly touching you. He was close enough that the fabric of his shirt could be felt on the back of your bare arms. He reached over from behind you and pushed the buttons on the dishwasher to start it. You turned around, Santi was standing close to you. Your heart was thumping in your ears, deafening you.
Santiago looked down at your perfect chest, tits perky, nipples nearly grazing his shirt. You leaned in, he started leaning too. His fingers brushed over your cheek and he reached his hand behind the back of your head.
You heard your name called over the top of the stairs, “...are you coming?”
Santiago let out a sigh of defeat, and so did you. He dropped his arm to his side.
“I-I’d better go.” You breathed heavily, staring up at Santi’s eyes for a second before skirting around him and heading to the stairs.
What the fuck are you doing Santi? He asked himself.
Just ten minutes ago he had given himself a pep-talk about letting those thoughts go. When he saw your delicious ass on display when he came down those stairs though, he’d lost all semblance of reason. This wasn’t like him, but…you were looking at him like that, you were bending over like that.
Your brain was a mess while Maria rambled to you. You thought you were out of your mind when you scrambled to clean the water off of Santi’s lap at dinner and he looked into your eyes. You’d thought for sure that you made up the connection he had with you, but now you were certain. He was into you. There was no other reason for him to have been staring at you like that right? If he had just come down the stairs, he wouldn’t have jumped when you turned around, he’d been looking at you. Further, he had no reason to come up behind you like that to start the dishwasher, chest brushing against your spine. He’d leaned in, almost kissing you, right?
There was only one real way to confirm. It was eleven on the dot, and Maria was snoring to your left. You silently got out of her bed and left the room. You couldn’t be so bold as to go knocking on his bedroom door, you had to be more careful than that. Your throat felt a little dry, so you thought about getting a glass of water.
You couldn’t believe you were actually doing this in the hopes that Santiago Garcia, your best friend’s dad, would come down there and fuck you senseless. Surely you were mistaken. The more you thought about it, the more foolish it started to sound. That is, until you had a half full glass of water and a daring hand snaking around your hip.
He’d heard you sneak from Maria’s bedroom, and hoped that by making his move you wouldn’t scream or push him away. It was possible that you were into it, that you were just as desperate as he was. If that were the case, it wouldn’t be hard to just keep this little thing a secret, if that’s what he had to do to have you, even if only for one night.
“Having a hard time sleeping?” He asked, lips against your neck.
You gulped, letting out a short breath. “Y-yes.” You said softly.
His cock was pressing against your rear in a gentle churning motion, just enough to feel some friction. You didn’t move, you didn’t dare. Part of you was still trying to comprehend that this was real, and that your friend’s dad really wanted you. When you thought about him, his eyes, his lips, he was so good looking, you realized that you really did want him. That’s why you went down there in the first place, right? You put the glass down on the counter and gripped the granite surface for support.
“You can push me away. I know this is wrong.” He whispered.
“Mr. Garcia…” You said breathlessly.
All the times he told you to call him Santi, he had done it for Maria’s sake. He always loved hearing you call him Mr. Garcia. Maybe it was some weird kink in his head, but it made his cock pulsate with a fierce need whenever you said it.
His hand, large against your abdomen, trekked down into your shorts, you were soaked. He circled over your clitoris. You’d never been with someone his age, but you’d heard that older men knew what they were doing. His left hand reached up and cupped your breast.
“Did you forget your bra sweetheart?” He continued his circling motion around your sensitive bundle of nerves.
“N-no, I…oh…I didn’t wear one on purpose.” You said in a playful tone.
He snickered, “of course you didn’t, such a tease.”
He rutted his hips against you. There was still part of him telling him how wrong this was, but it felt so good he couldn’t stop himself. His middle finger slipped into the folds of your cunt, immediately drowning in the juices that had been leaking there since putting the dishes away. The way he kissed your neck, and the way his finger worked into you made you wish you’d slept with more men his age.
“You really know what you’re doing…” You said in between your needy panting.
“Yes, hermosa, I’ll take care of you.”
You threw your head back against his shoulder and gripped the edge of the counter so hard your knuckles ached. His lips latched on to your throat, sucking the skin there tenderly. You felt another one of his thick fingers slip into your hole, pumping in and out of you. You were trying to keep yourself from making too much noise, but it felt too good. 
“Sh, you want us to get caught?” He said through clenched teeth.
“No Mr. Garcia.” You managed to choke out.
“Then you’d better learn to keep that pretty little mouth quiet cariño.”
He was fingering you fast now, so fast that you were struggling to hold on to the countertop anymore and so you let go, allowing his strong arms to keep you in place. You felt full, but not full enough. You wanted more. You needed more.
“I want you to fuck me Mr. Garcia, please.” You begged. “Fuck me.”
Though he was thoroughly enjoying fingering you, he was glad you said something, because he was seconds from losing it in his sweats, and he would rather lose himself in your sweet cunt. He turned you around to the island counter and bent you over the granite. You quickly pulled your shorts down around your thighs, and you felt his thick cock as he wasted no time readying it at your hole.
“Are you sure about this sweetheart?” He asked, holding the head there at your entrance.
“Yes, please, I need it.” You said desperately.
“It might hurt a little, just say something if it does, ok?” He pressed a hand over your back and then pushed himself through until his hips were flush against your rear.
You reached and grabbed the other side of the island counter for stability.
“That’s a good girl, just hold on tight like that.” He brought both of his hands down to land a bruising grip on your hips.
“S-Santi.” You moaned, “You’re so big, holy-” 
It wasn’t painful, and it felt good to have him gliding over your walls. He looked down, reveling in the way your hole split over his cock. He grunted, thrusting into you, his skin slapped against your rear. Nothing had ever felt like you did, so warm, so tight, it didn’t even matter to him that you were his kid’s friend anymore. He just wanted to hear you screaming his name until you could hardly breathe.
“Fuck, cariño, you have such a nice little pussy. So wet and ready for me. Have you been thinking about me all night?” He said in a whisper between his deep moans.
“Y-yes.” You admitted. “I wanted to feel your cock Mr. Garcia.”
“Of course you did sweetheart.” His thrusts were getting faster. “Is that why you bent over doing those dishes like that? Huh? Were you hoping your best friend’s dad would come down the stairs and catch you shaking your ass like a little tease?”
“Fuck, yes.” You felt your core heating as your climax closed in.
“You’re such a naughty little girl, gonna fill you with my cum sweetheart.” His thrusting became jagged and stuttering, and his breathing turned into hushed grunts as he started to shoot his hot ropes into you.
“Yes…” You said, feeling your own orgasm peak.
You gushed over him, cunt squeezing the life from his hard length. It was hard to keep quiet, despite knowing you should. Maria was right upstairs and as long as she was still sleeping, she wouldn’t have heard your whimpering cries while your pussy contracted over her dad’s thick cock. She wouldn’t have heard your cracked voice say his name like a prayer while your knuckles strained over the countertop.
He stepped back, letting his cock and cum spill out of you. You heard some shuffling and then felt him using a towel to clean your cunt and your thighs.
“Squeeze it out for me sweetheart.” He demanded.
You did, feeling gobs of hot white ejaculate falling out into the paper towel Santi held between your thighs. Your legs were still shaking while you held on to the granite tightly. You couldn’t believe you had actually done that with him. It’s not like you hadn’t had the opportunity to do it many times during visits before, this time was different though, this time he had been so bold and desperate. He was irresistible.
“There’s a good girl.” He said as he finished cleaning you up.
You pulled your shorts up and turned to him. His face was flush with color, curls disheveled. He placed a soft kiss on your lips. His eyes looked at you with a near drunken hooded gaze. You wished that you could be held now, even for a few moments before having to leave, but you knew your time together was over, for now.
“Run to bed now.” He said.
When you turned, you were met with a quick smack on your rear before you bounded over the stairs to join your friend in her bed once again. You could only hope, with breath-stilling anticipation, that you would get to spend more time with him again some day.
Part 2
Triple Frontier Masterlist
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