#this is like a month old but i finished it today so why not share

[joelscruff]

one of your girls (frankie morales x triple frontier boys) 18+

a/n it's @swiftiscruff friendship exchange time!!! i'm so beyond excited to share this piece i've been working on, dedicated to my incredible friend han @swiftispunk 🌙 we brainstormed the idea for this fic months ago and it's finally somehow become something tangible - but han, if i've learned anything from writing this fic, it's how much i depend on you when it comes to so many aspects of my writing. whether it be workshopping ideas, input on characterization & dialogue, sharing snippets, etc, you are always there to lend a hand, listen, and advise. not having that this time around (because this fic has been a secret ofc!) just further proved to me what an incredibly patient, giving, caring, kind, & beautiful friend you are. i love you so much & i'm so grateful you slid in my dms one whole year ago today 💕 summary: unpacking some of frankie's old things leads to a revelation about his past. (OR to put it simply: frankie morales x triple frontier boys circle jerk 🙌) rating: 18+ explicit warnings: circle jerk (frankie/benny/santiago/will), sub!frankie, bukkake, facials, cumplay, cum swallowing, frankie is literally a cum dumpster (and loves it), praise kink galore, pet names (good boy, baby boy), dirty talk, oral (m receiving), deepthroating, cock worship, use of restraints, sexy photographs, sharing, mentions of frankie x all the boys individually (this includes tom but he's not involved in the circle jerk - sorry tom), brief mentions of anal sex (m/m), for story purposes you are frankie's current gf but it's not really the main focus...for now anyway, all of this takes place before the events of triple frontier word count: 12.2k ao3 dividers by @saradika-graphics 💙

You've been moving boxes for what feels like forever, arms aching and the sun beating hot against the back of your neck as you swipe sweat from your brow and head back into the aging, disintegrating storage unit. When Frankie had first told you about it you'd been adamant that he move his old things - locked away for almost ten years now - out of the unit and into the new house. "We don't need to be paying for storage when we have a garage", you'd said confidently, "we have a house now, Frankie. What's yours is mine."

If only you'd believed him when he'd told you it wouldn't be that easy.

"I told y-" he begins for the fourth time as you lean down to grab another box, but you snap up immediately with a finger to your lips. "Why don't I just do the rest from here?" He offers fruitlessly, "You take a break, relax in the truck for a little while."

You're already shaking your head before he's finished talking, resuming your retrieval of the large box at your feet, "No, Frankie. We do this together."

You don't have to look at him to know that he's rolling his eyes. All the same, you hear him clamoring after you with another box as he follows you from the unit and back to the truck. The sun hangs high overhead and you squint uncomfortably against it, piling the box alongside the others in the truck bed. Frankie does the same.

"I mean, what's even in all of these?" you ask exasperatedly, shoving one of the many boxes with your hand and leaning backwards against the truck, "How did you accumulate this much shit in the military? I thought minimalism was all the rage over there."

"I told you, it's not just mine," he reaches forward to brush some sweaty tendrils of hair out of your eyes, "It's the whole team's shit. Well, mostly Ben and Pope's, the others were uh-" he winches, "a little more organized, I guess."

"You guess?" you push up on your hands and seat yourself precariously on the edge of the truck bed, catching your breath. Frankie watches as you tear open the nearest box, biting down on his lip to stifle a laugh when he sees your eyes widen at what's inside.

"Paperwork?" you breathe, mouth agape, "Paperwork? That's what in all these? Fucking forms?"

"Something they don't tell you when you first join," he shrugs, "But no, that's not all that's in these. There's souvenirs, journals, photos, mission plans-" he cuts himself off and stops speaking altogether, lips clamping shut. Your brow furrows as you watch him assess the open box beside you, then the others strewn haphazardly here and there inside the truck bed, as if he's only just realized something he hadn't considered before.

"What?"

He seems to shake himself from whatever stopped him, eyes still settled on the open box as he murmurs, "Um, maybe don't open any more right now."

You raise an eyebrow, "Why not?"

"Just, uh... don't."

"Well that's not ominous in the slightest."

He laughs but something about it seems off, almost forced as he reaches forward with both hands to help you down from the truck. You follow his lead, peering up at him curiously and hoping maybe he'll elaborate, explain, but instead he turns on the spot and heads back toward the storage unit, pulling you along in tow.

You decide not to press him about it for the time being. Right now, all you can think about is finishing hauling these ridiculous boxes and devouring an iced coffee on the way home.

A week passes before you even think about the boxes again.

By that time they've been taking up residence in the garage, haphazardly placed along the concrete in unorganized disarray, exactly where you'd both left them the day you unloaded the unit. You'd been too exhausted to start unpacking and had instead collapsed on the couch, laying there with aching limbs as Frankie discarded your empty iced coffee and poured you a tall glass of water.

"Your job is done now, querida," he'd murmured softly, stroking your cheek, "I'll do the rest."

Except he hadn't. He'd pulled your feet into his lap and settled comfortably beside you on the couch, just for a moment - and then it was lights out for the both of you, boxes be damned.

Now you find yourself the following Saturday perched precariously atop your counter, fingers smeared a soft fern green as you paint the walls of your new kitchen. You only moved into this house a month ago - your first real house together; shared, owned, all that jazz. Most of that time has already been entirely dedicated to making it your own space; unpacking, decorating, furnishing, rearranging - you've been more than busy with curating this new step in both your lives.

Which is why it's not surprising that you forget about the storage unit boxes and their scatteredness in the garage, too distracted by your current ongoing tasks. You hum along to the radio as you carefully attend to the smallest crevices and spaces between the cupboards, above the stove, under the window sill. You need it to be perfect, have gone far too long living in a less than adequate apartment without much creative freedom for this house to suffer the same fate.

Of course, just as you acknowledge the desire for perfection, your hand slips. A splash of green suddenly paints the pure white window sill and your heart sinks.

"Frankie!" you call out with a groan, reaching forward to wipe the mess away and only making it worse, "Where's the white paint?"

"Should be in the garage, I think," you hear him call back from the living room, busy with his own task of painting the walls a deep maroon, "Need me to get it for you?"

"No, I got it," you slide off the counter, careful to avoid the can of green paint at your feet as you make your way to the garage. It's only when you pass the threshold off the laundry room that you finally remember the forgotten boxes, faced with them for the first time since you dropped them off.

"Dammit, Francisco," you mutter, "You said you'd take care of it."

You can't really blame him though. It really is an undertaking; you'd known that from the moment he told you about the unit to begin with. He'd wanted to keep them there, would rather continue paying the monthly fee than deal with the enormous amount of unpacking he'd have to do, but you'd pushed. Now, as you grimace at the pile of heavy boxes, you wonder if maybe he'd been right.

For now, you turn your attention to the task at hand - finding white paint. You scan the storage shelves along the walls and spot the can you're looking for on a high shelf, out of reach.

Maybe those boxes can serve a purpose today.

You shove one toward the shelf and heave another one on top, making quick work of it despite the effort. Climbing onto your makeshift stepladder, you reach for the white paint and successfully pull it to your chest, but the added weight causes your feet to dig into the box below, exposing its contents as you carefully pull yourself back down. Your eyes can't help but dart to the crushed opening, spotting what looks like a photo album peeking through.

Setting the paint down, you lower yourself onto the concrete and cross your legs, biting your lip and reaching inside the box to grab the album. It's navy blue, relatively small, lightweight. A little skim couldn't hurt.

As soon as you open the photo album you can't help but smile, met immediately with a photo of Frankie and Santiago with their arms around each other - fifteen years younger. Their eyes are alight with excitement, Frankie's cap askew and Santi's expression caught in a permanent laugh. Before, you think to yourself, this was before shit got real. You flip the page and smile wider when you see a photo of Benny and Will, caught in what must be a playful brawl with Benny's hand grabbing at Will's leg as he tries to get away. Will is grinning from ear to ear, a genuine smile you've only seen a handful of times. Yep, definitely before.

You flip through the rest of the photos with a heaviness in your heart you can't describe. You've known these boys for a handful of years, have only heard fragments of the shit they've been through together, but you know it wasn't easy, know it affected them in ways you'll never even begin to understand. Being able to see them before all that, before they became hardened and molded by pain and trauma, you can't deny the emotions that bubble in your throat.

The last page contains a group photo; Frankie is in the center, surrounded by his friends on all sides, Will and Benny turned towards him with a fond smile and a grin, Santiago with an arm around him again and his head tilted to brush against Frankie's cap, and Tom on the edge - looking a little out of place, you must admit. But then, you suppose, things haven't really changed.

You're about to close the album and return to your painting when you notice a little pocket built into the backing, hidden out of sight with a hint of white poking through. Not wanting to miss out on another good photo, you slip your finger inside and happily tug out what looks to be a polaroid, different than the others. Curiously, you flip it over.

And immediately drop it to the floor.

Suddenly you can hear Frankie's words from last week, thrumming in your mind on repeat: "Um, maybe don't open any more right now."

You hadn't understood. But now you think you do.

With slightly shaky fingers you reach down and pick up the polaroid, taking a breath before slowly flipping it over again. Lips parted, eyes wide, heart pounding, you peer down at the little photograph and try to understand what you're seeing.

A much younger Frankie - naked, save for the cap on his head and the pants around his ankles. On his knees, peering up at the camera with hooded eyes and a fucked-out expression you've become more than familiar with at this point in your relationship. But that's not what made you drop the photo, no.

His face is covered in cum. You know that's what it is, know there's nothing else it could possibly be. Thick trails of it paint his face like abstract art, dripping down his forehead and the bridge of his nose, his cheeks, his lips, his chin. It's all over him, smeared along his neck and chest bloomed red with heat and arousal. His cap is askew, cheeks flushed, and - most notable of all - he's smiling. Looking up at the camera, drenched in cum, smiling.

Frankie is bisexual; you've known this since your first date, remember how shy he'd been as he'd softly murmured, "Just so you know, I like girls and guys." It hadn't bothered you at all to know that he'd been with men in the past - in fact, you'd kind of liked that about him.

So this - this doesn't bother you. You're not bothered. You're... you don't know what you are, can't seem to pinpoint exactly how you're feeling right now as peer down at the polaroid that you were probably never supposed to find. You're not bothered, you're just... surprised. And confused. What is this doing here? Why is it hidden in an album of Frankie and his friends?

....Oh.

"Find it?" you suddenly hear Frankie call from the living room, and your stomach drops. You hastily stand and slip the polaroid into your back pocket, then close the album and toss it back into the box.

"Y-yeah," you call back, "I got it!"

You try not to mention it. Try, being the operative word.

But it's all you can think about. It's all you see when you reunite with Frankie in the kitchen later that afternoon, staring at the flecks of maroon paint scattered across his face and being unable to not see smears of splattered white. It's all you see that evening as you dig into your leftover Chinese food, eyes constantly flickering across the table to watch Frankie bite and chew, lips soft and wet and definitely not leaking cum at the corners.

It's all you see that night when you settle in bed and watch as he comes out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, water dripping down his neck and chest not unlike the thick drops of release in the photo. You watch with hooded eyes, lips parted, heart thrumming, as he tugs the towel off and walks to the dresser with his pert ass on full display. You can't help but wonder if there'd been cum there too, leaking and dripping, hidden away because of the angle of the photo.

"I can feel you staring at me," he suddenly says with a chuckle, "Why don't you take a picture? It'll last longer." He says it in jest but you feel your face bloom with heat, immediately averting your eyes and burying yourself beneath the sheets.

"I was not," you lie, "Get over yourself."

He laughs again and you hear him shut the dresser, probably tugging on a pair of briefs, "You've been looking at me weird all day, it's kind of freaking me out."

You want to point out that "all day" is an exaggeration, but then you'd have to admit that you have been looking at him strangely for at least a portion of it, and you really don't want to do that. Instead, you reach over and turn off the lamp on your bedside table, then nuzzle into your pillow and close your eyes, ignoring him.

"Is something wrong, baby?" you hear him ask, humor slowly dissipating from his voice, "You need to talk about anything?"

"No," you lie, your own voice betraying you immediately, "I'm fine."

You feel the bed dip beside you, feel the warmth of his palm come down to gently caress your upper arm, "You sure? Did I do something to upset you?" You can practically hear him wince as soon as he says the words, "I know, I should already know if I did. But today's been busy and-"

"You didn't do anything, Frankie," you tell him softly, "I promise."

"Then what is it?" you can hear the concern, the gentle worry as he strokes your arm up and down, "Talk to me." He sounds so kind, so tender, as always. It's so damn hard to keep anything from him. You sigh.

"I feel..." you grimace, eyes still closed, "I just feel..."

He waits for you to continue, in the meantime settling into bed beside you and tugging the sheets up over himself. You feel his warmth against your body and it immediately fills you with a sense of calm, comfort. Your heart slows a bit, breaths coming a little easier as he brings his arm down to wrap around you and pull you in close.

"How do you feel, querida?" he murmurs, "Tell me."

"Guilty," you finally breathe, and you're surprised to feel tears pricking in your eyes, "I feel guilty."

You can hear the confusion in his voice, "For what?"

"I...I saw something I shouldn't have," you admit quietly, "In one of your boxes. Something really private that you probably never ever wanted me to see and I'm so sorry." You feel his arm freeze at your side and you take a shaky breath, "And now I can't stop thinking about it even though it's absolutely none of my damn business. And I wanna ask you about it but I really have no right to, not when I wasn't even supposed to know about it in the first place, and-"

"Mierda," he groans - shit.

"I'm so sorry, Frankie" you whisper pathetically, still facing away from him, "It's all my fault and if you need me to just forget about it, I will. I promise that I will."

"Fuck," he murmurs, "No no, baby, it's not your fault, it's mine. I should have unpacked all of it myself. I knew there was shit in there you might not wanna see."

"Y-you're not mad at me?"

He buries his face in your hair, nose nuzzling against your neck, "Of course I'm not mad at you - could never be mad at you for that. What's mine is yours, remember?"

You pull away to turn and face him, expression pensive. He's looking at you with earnest eyes, no anger or betrayal to be seen, and it almost makes it worse. Because does he know? Does he realize what exactly it is that you found?

"You have um..." you bite your lip, "You have pictures, in a photo album."

He stares at you, brow furrowing. "What?"

Fuck.

"There was... there was a photo album in one of the boxes. And I figured I'd just flip through it, just to have a look at you when you were younger, you know? Thought it'd be nice, that there might be something we could frame for the house."

He's looking at you like you're speaking another language, confusion lining his features, "....So?"

"So... so I found..." you wince, the image flashing behind your lids again as you try to figure out how to word it, "I found a picture that I don't think you would have wanted me to see."

He's still staring at you, the cogs turning in his head but seemingly no closer to an answer. You picture him flipping through an invisible rolodex, trying to pinpoint exactly what picture you could be talking about. You're starting to realize that maybe when he'd told you to stop looking in the boxes he'd been talking about something else.

"Honestly baby, I thought you meant you looked at some of my paperwork," he admits. Bingo. "Saw some stuff we did for a mission or something. There's plans in those boxes, strategy stuff, and you know how intense some of those were, some of the..." he takes a beat, biting his lip, "some of the things we had to do."

You shake your head quickly, "It wasn't anything like that. It wasn't...it wasn't something serious, really. It was..." you take a deep breath, still unable to say the words. Instead, you reach over into your nightstand and grab the polaroid, sitting up in bed and waiting for him to join you.

"What is it?" he asks, gentle and kind as he sits up beside you, "You can tell me, baby. We can talk about it."

Your heart races but you figure there's no going back from it now, and you're not sure you'd want to keep it from him anyway. Up until this point you and Frankie have always made communication an important part of your relationship. It's been necessary considering what he's been through, what he still deals with, and it's something that you're proud of. You're just gonna have to grin and bear it.

With a sigh, you shakily hand him the polaroid.

He flips it.

And drops it.

"Oh," he gasps, hand coming up to cover his mouth, "Oh, fuck."

"It's not- I'm not-" you stutter, fumbling over your words, "It's not a big deal, really. Like, it's whatever. I know you're bi, I know you've probably sucked your fair share of dicks-"

"Oh god," Frankie moans, his hands coming up to cover his eyes, "Oh my god."

"Hey, hey, no," you reach up and try to pull his hands away from his face, desperation in your voice, "Do not hide from me, you did nothing wrong. You hear me? There's nothing wrong with this." He groans again, shaking his head, but you just keep on talking, "I'm not mad about it or anything, it'd be pretty fucked up for me to mad about it actually. I'm just- hey," you continue to pry at his fingers, "Francisco, look at me."

Slowly, hesitantly, he finally removes his hands from his eyes to peer at you. You can see the embarrassment there, the humiliation - and not the good kind, not the kind he likes.

"Hey," you whisper, "You don't have to talk about this. We can pretend I never even saw it if that's what you want," you bring his hands down and hold them tightly, squeeze them in your own, "I just... I just wanted you to know that I saw it. And that I was just a little curious about why it was in an album from your military days. That's it. That's all."

His eyes fall back to the flipped polaroid on the bed, the back of it facing the both of you. You watch as he slowly reaches forward to pick it up again with his index and middle finger, pulls it upwards and turns it around to see it again.

Out of respect for him, you don't look at it. You just watch his face, his expression. He looks.... thoughtful.

"Talk to me," you whisper, voice breaking, "Please."

He looks from the polaroid to you, then back to the polaroid. After taking a steadying breath, he places it back down onto the bed between the two of you, face up. Your eyes spot his cum-covered face again, frozen forever in time, and you quickly avert your gaze.

He notices, and gives you a small half smile. You return it tenfold.

"Well, it.." he starts, taking another breath, "It was just something that.. we just started-" he cuts himself off, smile turning to a frown as he formulates his words. "It started..."

"Hey," you breathe, reaching down to squeeze his hands again, "Take your time."

It started as a way to blow off steam - that's it. Simple, easy.

They'd all gotten to know one another during training, spent time shooting the shit and building friendships with each other. There had been such a sense of belonging, of fortified brotherhood, a pull toward one another that none of them could deny. So it was unsurprising when their teamwork and comradery resulted in their placement into a special task force, just the five of them against the world - or, rather, the enemy.

But it was stressful. Going from basic military training to special ops added a new layer of pressure and competence that they hadn't experienced before, and it was no walk in the park. Things got harder, more pressing, more important. And all they had, like always, was each other.

So it made sense one night, for Frankie anyway, to offer Santiago a blowjob.

He'd heard the stiff grunts from the bed beside him, the dry - too dry - slap of skin as Santi worked at himself beneath the thin sheet of his bunk. It wasn't abnormal for Frankie to overhear one of his buddies masturbating; in fact it would have been abnormal to not hear it. He'd gotten used to the different sounds they'd each make as they gripped their cocks, hidden away in the dark, and pumped themselves to completion. He had memorized the sounds of their breathing, the grunts and the whines, the soft moans of their orgasms.

But it was never something that was discussed. It was an unspoken rule, almost: what happens in the bunks stays in the bunks. So Frankie had never even considered crossing that line, especially because he was pretty sure he was the only one in the group who liked dudes - something everyone was only vaguely aware of.

There was something about the desperation in Santi's movements that night, in the sweat on his brow and the pained expression on his face. He'd gotten reprimanded earlier that day for failing a training mission, been yelled at by two commanding officers while the rest of the boys looked on with regret in their hearts. If one of them failed, they all felt as if they'd failed too. Santi hadn't spoken to anyone for the rest of the day, had eaten in silence and then retired to his bunk much too early. And now, hours later here he was, hand around his cock, trying to forget.

And Frankie wanted to help.

"Pope," he'd whispered under his breath, just loud enough for Santiago to hear. Santi had turned his head slightly, eyebrows raising when he realized he'd been caught in the act. He'd been about to say something, defend himself maybe, but Frankie had shook his head and continued, "Need some help?"

A look of confusion. "Help?"

Frankie's eyes had wandered to the shape of Santi's lower half beneath the sheet, then back up to meet his gaze.

"Yeah," he'd murmured earnestly, "Help."

Santi had stared at him for a few seconds, brow furrowed, chest heaving. His hand was frozen under the sheet, gripping firmly to his hard cock as he'd considered Frankie's offer. Someone else might have hurled hurtful words, another might have ignored him completely.

But Santi took a deep breath and leaned back, closed his eyes and breathed, "Go ahead."

Frankie had been under the sheet in minutes.

Tucked away, hidden in case any of the other guys woke up, Frankie sucked slowly on his friend's cock. He wasn't sure how much Santi wanted to see of him, figured maybe he'd have his eyes closed as he pictured someone else, maybe that girl he liked from back home, but it didn't matter to Frankie - what mattered most was helping his friend forget about the shitty day he'd had. He treated Santi's cock like something to be worshipped, swallowing and licking around the big shape of him, warm and thick in his mouth. And when Santi came, it was only moments after Frankie had started.

His hands came down to grip Frankie's curls, tugging and pulling as he'd groaned and spilled down his friend's throat. And Frankie had swallowed every drop.

"Francisco," Santi had murmured when Frankie pulled off his cock with a pop, a drop of cum leaking from the corner of his mouth as he peered up at Santi from beneath the sheet, "You've been holding out on me."

With a smile, Frankie had licked the cum away and placed a gentle, reverent kiss to the wet head of Santi's cock. Santi had watched with hooded eyes, let Frankie kiss him there a few more times, let him trail his nose along his thick shaft and inhale deeply at the base. Hands still carding through his hair, Santi had let him mouth at his cock for a few more minutes before softly telling him he should get back in his bunk.

"Just trying to savor it," Frankie had whispered, voice a little sad, a little broken.

"You'll do it again," Santi had replied, reveling in the way Frankie's eyes widened, a smile lighting up his face.

And he did do it again - the following night. He'd been a little hesitant, unsure if Santiago had really meant what he said. But after the others had fallen asleep and Frankie was still just lying there, waiting, he'd heard a soft pssst sound. He'd looked over to see Santi sitting up in bed with a smirk on his face and one hand already beneath the sheet, tugging at his dick.

He stuffed his mouth with Santi's cock every night that week. It was almost feral the way he drank him down, eyes rolling as his lips kissed Santi's pubic hair and his tongue laved the shaft of his cock up and down, up and down. Drool cascaded from his lips all over his friend's belly, and he whined softly over and over whenever his curls were tugged, his temples stroked. Santi would talk to him softly, murmur the quietest little praises that made Frankie insane with need. That's it, there you go. You take what you need, Francisco. And then he'd come down his throat, fill his stomach with it, and whisper, "Good boy."

It was filthy, but it wasn't wrong. Not one part of it felt wrong. And Santiago never once made him feel like it was a shameful secret they were keeping, like the others finding out would be the end of the world. And it's good that he'd maintained that stance, because soon enough, Benny was in on it too. They should have seen it coming, considering his bunk was directly above Santi's.

"Can you give me one, maybe?" he'd asked Frankie awkwardly one night, voice quiet and slightly nervous as he leaned over the bars of the bunk bed, "I've been... I've been listening to it every night and it's driving me fuckin' crazy that I don't know what it feels like."

"Are you saying you've never had a blowjob, Ben?"

Benny had rolled his eyes, "Of course I've had a fuckin' blowjob, idiot. I've just never had a... a you know..." he'd shrugged, "A Frankie blowjob."

"It's good," Santi had said nonchalantly, tugging off his shirt and climbing into his bunk, "He's fucking incredible, actually."

Frankie had preened at the praise, cheeks reddening. An hour later he'd climbed up into Benny's bunk and deepthroated his cock for a solid fifteen minutes. Benny was breathless, chest blooming with heat as he watched Frankie suck and drool, gagging every so often but immediately resuming his sloppy ministrations as soon as he'd caught his breath.

"Look at that," Benny had marveled softly, "Look at that."

"I told you," they'd both heard Santi whisper from below, "He's a fucking godsend."

"I'm gonna cum down your fuckin' throat, Frankie," Benny had groaned, and no sooner were the words out that he was following through, spurting slow and steady into Frankie's mouth. He gripped the back of his head, watched Frankie swallow, and then whispered, "Good boy". Oh, he really had been listening.

Sated and warm with wet and sticky briefs, Frankie had climbed back into bed with a new appreciation for Benny.

As if two wasn't enough, Will got involved shortly after that. Of course Benny had unsurprisingly spilled the beans to his brother, which lead to Frankie climbing atop his own bunk one night to join Will, who'd been a bit unsure. It was as if he thought a prank was being pulled on him, like it was all bullshit, but he didn't say no.

"Been wonderin' what you three were gettin' up to," he'd muttered, watching Frankie a bit dubiously, brow furrowed, arms crossed, "Ben says you're, uh... good."

"I'm good," Frankie had promised softly, bringing his hands down to tug at Will's boxers, "Promise."

Will had watched as Frankie brought his already hardening cock out of his underwear, kissed the tip gently and then brought it into his mouth. "Oh fuck," he'd heard Will gasp out, immediately reaching up to cup the back of Frankie's head. And then there were three.

But three stayed three. Tom did find out about it, considering every single night somebody seemed to be getting their dick sucked. Any discreetness had gone out the window, especially when two of them would jack themselves off to the sounds of Frankie slurping and sucking, groans and the heavy slap of skin echoing throughout the large room. But despite the knowledge of what his friends were doing, the leader of the group was seemingly disinterested in having a go with Frankie.

There was one disastrous evening wherein the others managed to convince Tom to give it a shot. But Frankie bobbed on his cock for a solid five minutes before realizing he just wasn't getting him hard, and Tom had pushed him away and turned in bed with a low sigh.

"It's just not for me, Fish," he'd muttered, "Pretend it never happened."

"He doesn't know what he's missing," Santi had murmured ten minutes later as he watched Frankie suckle on the leaking tip of his cock, "Huh, Francisco? Doesn't know you've got the mouth of an angel, huh?"

Frankie had continued to suck, eyes closed, breathing deeply in and out as Santi stroked his hair.

Things were easier for a while after that. The training was strenuous, oftentimes near impossible, but there was always pleasure at the end of it, always something to look forward to. Every night Frankie would take up residence in someone's bunk, usually after a quick game of rock paper scissors or a straw draw. Each of his friends were different in their own way, and Frankie took a lot of joy in being able to have those moments with them, be what they needed. It felt like he was floating, dreaming; he'd never realized how badly he wanted to be submissive like this until it actually happened. Being their shared prize, their plaything, it was fucking incredible.

Sometimes he'd have all three in one night. He'd deepthroat Benny's cock and swallow him down, then stagger to Will's bunk and do the same. With his own erection aching in his underwear he'd finally crawl in with Santi and allow his closest friend to pull down his briefs and notch the head of his cock into his ass. Santi was the only one who fucked him, the only one who held him close afterwards and sometimes fell asleep with him.

"You my good boy, Francisco?" he'd murmur in Frankie's ear as he fucked him slow and deep, fingers digging into his hips beneath the sheets, "You like feelin' that cock in your ass?"

And god, did he ever.

The first real mission was brutal.

It was tame compared to the things they'd eventually do, but for what it was, they were stressed out of their minds. They spent weeks planning, training, preparing. They'd find themselves so tired at the end of the day that their nighttime habits became a thing of the past, if not something that only happened once in a blue moon. And in its own way the lack of it had begun to affect everything else, their comradery, their abilities, their drive. The day before the mission was set to begin, Benny stood up at dinner and proclaimed, "We've gotta get our shit together."

"Sit down, our shit is together," Tom grumbled, "We're gonna be fine."

"We are not gonna be fine," Benny argued, expression genuinely fearful, "We're gonna fail the whole fuckin' thing and then we're out on our asses."

"There's truth to that, you know there is," Will pointed out as he pulled Benny back down, "There's somethin' missing here. We're not on our A game."

"What, 'cause Morales isn't getting sucked and fucked?"

Frankie's head had gone up, ears tinging pink as he looked over at Tom along with everybody else. There had been a beat of silence, and then-

"Nobody said that," Santi had stated calmly, "And don't be a dick."

"I'm not being a dick. It's fine what you all get up to in your own time, whatever. But it's not the be-all and end-all of our fucking team," he'd shrugged and looked at Santi with a frown, "I mean, come on, Pope. We're prepared, with or without the extracurriculars."

"We are," Santiago had agreed with a nod, turning to Benny, "It's gonna be fine, man. The nerves are just kicking in now but that's normal. We've trained for this, we're ready."

But Frankie could tell he wasn't being entirely truthful.

That night, despite the tiredness of the last day of training and the anxiety of what was to come - Frankie found a solution. He told Santi first, whispered it to him in his bunk and grinned at the expression on his friend's face, awestruck and aroused all at once.

"You're sure?" Santi asked him quietly.

"I'm sure. I think it'll help us de-stress."

Santi had leaned forward and tilted Frankie's cap up, pressed a firm kiss to his forehead and murmured, "Me sigues sorprendiendo, Francisco." You continue to surprise me.

A moment later he was climbing the ladder of Santi's bunk, coming face to face with Benny. "You wanna do something kinky?"

The younger man's eyebrow raised, "Kinkier than usual?"

"A blowjob is not kinky, Ben."

"Getting one from a guy is."

Frankie rolled his eyes and went to pull himself back down the ladder but Benny stopped him, reaching out to touch his wrist.

"What'd you have in mind?"

And that's how he'd ended up on his knees.

Will and Benny stood on either side of Santiago, all three men looking down at their submissive friend with unbridled arousal in their expressions, dark and anticipatory. There was silence at first, not necessarily awkward but full of a definite tension that was more than palpable.

Until-

"Tie him up," Santi murmured to Benny. Frankie's eyes went hooded almost immediately, lips parting as he peered up at his friends and felt his heart pound at the thought of what Santi was asking.

"How so?"

"His hands," Santi clarified, "There's some string in the first aid kit, tie his hands behind his back so he can't touch himself."

Benny followed his orders without question, heading toward the bathroom to grab the kit while Will gave Santiago a confused look. "Why can't he touch himself?"

Santi smiled, tilting his head a bit and peering down at Frankie's already debauched form. He walked forward and kneeled down in front of him, levelling with him as he reached for his waistband.

"'Cause he likes it," Santi murmured, "Haven't you noticed something about Frankie in all the months we've been doing this?" As he spoke he pulled down Frankie's pants to his knees, exposing his bare thighs to the room. He was already hard, the long shape of his cock protruding from his black briefs. "He doesn't touch himself," he continued softly, stroking his thumb gently against the V of Frankie's hips, "He always comes in his pants when he sucks our dicks."

Hearing the words aloud, stated so matter-of-factly, Frankie realized in that moment how fucking well Santiago had come to know him. Not once had Frankie voiced this, told him anything about what he really liked, what he craved. And yet here he was, having his desires told directly to him, like it was the most casual thing in the world.

"And when he gets fucked," Santi continued, fingers trailing downward to ever so gently cup Frankie's cock, "He only lets me touch it. Ain't that right, Francisco?"

Frankie nodded slowly, a lump forming in his throat.

"Why?" Will asked again - always wanting clarification, an explanation.

"'Cause it feels good, doesn't it, Frankie?" Santi cooed, releasing Frankie's bulge and bringing his hand up to place a finger under his chin, "Feels so good to come untouched, huh? Feels good to let go when you've got a dick in your mouth, to fall asleep with your underwear all wet and your cock all sticky?"

Frankie nodded again, cheeks blooming pink. He felt someone behind him pick up his hands, start tying them together - Benny.

"Come to think of it, I've never seen his cock," Benny admitted, voice already rough with anticipation, "I mean... I guess I had other things on my mind."

"He's got a fucking great cock," Santi murmured, "Why don't you show 'em, Francisco? Let 'em see what you've been hiding under here, huh?" His finger dug into the band of Frankie's briefs, and all Frankie could do was nod again, unable to speak with the way his thoughts had begun to melt away, brain going fuzzy.

Benny finished tying his hands and walked in front of him again to stand alongside Santi, eyebrows going up when he watched Frankie's cock be freed from the confines of his underwear. It stood at attention immediately, long and hard, pink and flushed at the tip. It smacked wetly against his belly, balls hanging heavy and full as Santi pulled his briefs down entirely.

"Now look at that pretty cock," Santi breathed, almost just for Frankie alone, "Look how it's dripping."

And it was dripping, already pulsing and bobbing against his belly button with every rise and fall of his chest. The three men watched in silence for a moment as Frankie took deep breaths, his cock twitching and stuttering in front of them without being touched, simply exposed to the cool air of the room and their interested gazes.

"I kinda wanna...." Benny started to say, but trailed off, blushing a bit as he took a step away from his brother.

"I'll stay between you," Santi offered quickly, "Pull 'em out, it's fine."

There was no more hesitation after that. Frankie watched under his lashes as his three friends reached into their pajama pants and pulled out their cocks. Will was still mostly soft, though you could tell he was starting to harden with the sudden gravity of the situation. Benny was already stiff and leaking as he fisted his own, and Santiago's hung heavy and thick between his legs as he carefully circled the head with his thumb.

"We're gonna come all over your face, Frank," Benny told him quietly as he jerked his cock slowly up and down, "You know that, right? You're sure you're cool with that?"

It was like he was underwater, still unable to speak; he hadn't said one word since he'd gotten on his knees. It was as if the submissive part of him had taken over completely, mind going blank.

"Say yes or no, Fish," Will said, voice strained as he squeezed himself gently, "Wanna hear it."

"Yes," Frankie had finally managed to whimper, knees trembling against the cold floor, "Yes, please."

Santi grinned, "Well boys, I think we got our answer," He tilted his head again to eye Frankie from where he stood, "Let's get a little closer, shall we? I think he wants us up close and personal."

Within a few seconds Frankie was suddenly face to face with three cocks - it was like fucking Christmas morning. His mouth popped open and drool immediately began to collect in the corners of his mouth, eyes trailing back and forth to look at absolutely everything he could. He stared at the weeping tips, the fat heads, the thick shafts where his friends pumped and fisted. Without any thoughts in his brain he opened his mouth and laid his tongue flat against his lower lip, staring at Benny's cock - arguably the biggest - with pleading eyes.

"Yeah, you wanna suck on it, don't you?" Benny asked, a smile in his voice, "You go ahead, Fish. Suck that cock."

He did not need telling twice. His lips wrapped around the pink mushroom head of Benny's cock and his eyes rolled back as he began to suck, tongue lapping at the tip and devouring everything it had to offer. God he loved having his mouth full, loved hearing Benny's groans as he pushed his head forward and enveloped more and more of the cock in front of him, began to slide his lips up and down the shaft and cover it in his saliva.

"So pretty with a cock in your throat, Francisco," Santi told him, voice full of praise as he watched Frankie sink down even further on Benny's cock, 'til his nose was buried in his pubic hair. "Tell him how pretty he is, Benny. He wants to hear it."

Frankie anticipated some hesitance, maybe even a sarcastic comment, but Benny did no such thing. Instead, Benny's hand came up to cup the back of Frankie's head, holding him still on his cock as he breathed, "You're so pretty, Frankie."

A high keen of a whine made it's way from Frankie's throat, vibrated around the cock in his mouth. Benny trembled a bit, tangling his fingers in his hair and helping him bob a few more times before pulling him off completely. Frankie gasped for breath, tears in his eyes as he stared up at his friends.

"Your turn," Santi murmured quietly to Will, "Stuff him full."

"He fuckin' loves being stuffed," Will replied with a low chuckle, yanking Frankie forward by his hair and shoving his now fully hard cock into his mouth. It was the kind of rough Frankie was already well acquainted with when it came to Will, and he welcomed it with gratitude. He closed his eyes and allowed Will's cock to sink into his mouth like Benny's had, then swallowed around it, tightening the walls of his throat and gagging around the large intrusion.

"Yeah, choke on it, baby," Will muttered, gripping both sides of Frankie's head with a groan, "Baby boy."

Baby boy. That was a new one, especially from Will, but Frankie certainly wasn't complaining. He swallowed around him again, feeling his own cock bob against his stomach as he continued to worship Will's dick. There was only so much of the sensation that Will could take, and before long he too was pulling out of Frankie's mouth and resuming his slow strokes, breathing heavily.

"M'your baby boy," Frankie murmured to the three of them, Will's words still echoing in his mind. His voice was already completely shot, rough and scratchy from the two large cocks that had invaded his throat.

"You are," Santiago cooed, leaning forward to gently tap the head of his own cock against Frankie's bottom lip, "You're our baby boy, Frankie. Our good, pretty, perfect boy, huh?"

Yes, Frankie wanted to whisper, it's all I am. It's all I wanna be. But his mouth was already being filled a third time, this time by Santi's cock - the thickest of the three. His vision blurred with tears as it stretched his lips, the masculine taste dripping on the back of his tongue and down his throat. He'd had Santi's cock in his mouth the most out of everyone's; had fallen asleep a few times suckling on the tip of it while Santi murmured praise, like a comfort, a constant.

He knew exactly what Santi liked, what he didn't, how to tease him, how to get him there. Immediately, Frankie curled his tongue around the wide head, dipped the tip of it into Santi's slit and carefully fucked it in and out while suctioning the rest. He kept his eyes open this time even though they burned with tears, allowing himself to meet Santiago's gaze just how he knew he liked it.

"Oh, good boy," Santi praised softly, thumbing Frankie's cheeks and letting the head of his cock sit just inside the wet heat of his mouth, "Suckin' on that cock like it's my thumb, huh? Just how you like it?"

Now that was something unbeknownst to Benny and Will. They knew Santi liked to fuck Frankie sometimes, but they didn't know much about the logistics, the positioning, the way it worked. More often than not, Frankie would suck on Santi's thumb when he was being fucked, liked the feeling of having both his holes full at the same time. It felt complete somehow, safe. God, what would it feel like now if Santi were to fuck him and let Benny or Will fuck his throat? What would it feel like to be truly filled up like that, the way he'd always imagined? His cock twitched against his belly again, still untouched, still pulsing, and he moaned around Santi's cock.

"I think our baby boy needs a little break," Santi murmured softly, "Shh, it's okay, Frankie, it's alright," he slowly pulled his cock from Frankie's lips and allowed him to catch his breath, chest heaving. He felt multiple hands petting his hair, stroking his cheeks, thumbing his temples. Someone brushed one of his nipples, pinched it ever so gently and then did the same to the other one.

"Sweet little things," Will murmured, and that answered that.

"He really is a fucking godsend, Pope," Benny breathed, disbelief and awe playing at the edge of his voice, "Softest mouth I've ever felt."

"His eyes are what get me," Santi replied, and Frankie felt him take his cap off and toss it to the side, then a pair of lips kiss his forehead, "He's got the prettiest brown eyes, look so beautiful when he's got that wet mouth all full."

The way they talked about him, like he wasn't even there, like he was just a toy, something to play with, an object - it was so much. It was too much. He leaned back on his haunches and whimpered, eyes fluttering open as he looked up at his friends, still standing in front of him with their now very wet cocks in their hands.

"Put them on my face," he begged, voice broken and haggard, "All of them, please."

"Fuck," Benny gasped out, and without hesitation he placed the entire length of his cock along Frankie's cheek and forehead, tapping it a few times and hissing, "There you go. There it is, baby boy."

"You go around the other side," Santi told Will, knowing he wouldn't want to touch Benny's cock, "Put yours upside down on his other cheek, I'll go middle."

Benny was still slapping Frankie's face gently with his cock, hissing and groaning out words of praise. Santi slapped his own down across the center of his face, along his nose and lips. His cock settled up against Benny's, and for the shortest of seconds Frankie noted that they rubbed them together without speaking, without looking at each other. Will joined them on the other side, his balls hanging low on Frankie's forehead and his tip jutting out near his chin. Three cocks, side by side, covering their friend's entire face.

"Slap him with them, he likes that," Benny said through gritted teeth, doing it again and again and reveling in the whimpers and whines Frankie was making below them, "Ohhh, he fuckin' loves that."

"I don't think I can last," Will spit, voice more strained than it had been before, "This is too much, I'm gonna blow my whole fuckin' load any minute now."

"No one's stopping you," Santi encouraged, "Doesn't matter when we come, what matters is we do it all over his face. Cover him with it."

"Oh, he's gonna be fuckin' drenched," Benny groaned, eyes closing as he stilled his slapping movements to hold back his own orgasm. His voice was wild now, desperate, "I wanna come in his mouth, I call dibs."

"You hear that, Frankie, baby?" Santi murmured with a sly smile, "Benny called dibs on filling your mouth."

Frankie wouldn't have responded even if he could, just let out another whimpering moan and dropped his jaw, lolled his tongue out so his friends could take turns tapping the heads of their cocks against it. He was covered in precum, felt it dribbling down his chin and forehead, collecting behind his teeth and dripping down the back of his throat.

"Let him suck," Will hissed, "Let him suck mine one more time." At his words, Benny and Santi moved out of the way as best they could, Santi tapping Frankie's eyelid with his cock while Benny smeared more precum into his forehead. They watched as Frankie carefully suckled Will's tip into his mouth, closed his lips around him and hummed.

"Put it in your throat, baby boy," Will told him firmly, "Swallow around it, there you go. Thaaat's a good boy."

Gurgling sounds were coming from Frankie's gag reflex but he didn't stop or pull away, kept doing exactly what he knew Will needed as he swallowed him down. It took barely any time at all for it to be too much for Will to handle, and before any of them knew it he was pulling out and pumping his cock furiously over Frankie's face. Benny and Santi stepped back - they all knew what was coming.

"Don't come in his mouth, I called dibs," Benny warned, and Frankie could have sworn he heard Santiago chuckle.

"Keep your eyes closed, Fish," Will muttered, directly in front of him now as the wet sounds of his fist slipping up and down his cock filled the room, "Gonna paint that pretty little face and those sweet little nipples."

Franke whimpered, keeping his eyes closed as he continued to listen to what was going on around him. He could hear Santi and Benny still jerking themselves a few steps away, but Will's grunts and groans were the most prominent, the most present. And only a few seconds later he felt the first splash of cum hit his face - his left cheek.

"There it is," Santi egged Will on, "There he goes."

Another rope of cum landed on his forehead, dripped down onto his eyebrow. Then another on his chin. He listened as Will let out one more groan, still pumping his cock as he aimed at Frankie's bare chest. He felt two more spurts trickle down both of his nipples, sensitive and hard, and that was it.

"Fuck," Will groaned, satisfaction plain as day in his voice, "Fuck, Frankie."

He opened his eyes and was met with Will's cock, tight in his fist. Without hesitation he leaned forward and brought the tip gently into his mouth, licking off the excess cum as Will brought his hand down to play with Frankie's curls. He sucked for a few seconds, placed a soft kiss to the tip - his favorite spot - and then looked up to meet Will's gaze, a dazed little smile playing on his lips.

"Give it one more little kiss, baby boy," Will murmured, "Just one more." Frankie did as he was told, eyelashes fluttering as he kissed the sticky tip once more, and then Will was backing up to let Santi and Benny back into their spots.

"You're a good boy, Fish," he murmured, tucking himself back into his pants. "Mind if I watch the rest?"

"Please stay," Frankie managed to breathe, and the movement of his face caused some of the cum in his eyebrow to trickle downwards, dipping into the crevice of his nose. Will smiled and nodded, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall to observe.

"Won't be much longer now, Francisco," Santi told him softly, shuffling forward to carefully fill Frankie's mouth again with his dick. He watched with fascination as Frankie slowly bobbed on it, like muscle memory as he breathed evenly through his nose. "M'close. I think Benny's close too."

"You look so fuckin' good with all that cum on your face," Benny told him, voice almost pained, "Gonna look even better with more."

Surprisingly, Frankie pulled off Santi's dick without being told to do so and peered over at Benny with hunger in his eyes, "Can you... can I..." he cut himself off, going bright red as he looked back to Santi for reassurance.

"What is it, baby?" Santi asked softly, brow furrowing, "You good? You need to take a break?"

Frankie shook his head quickly, "N-no, I just...I..." he bit his lip and hoped his sudden idea wasn't about to be shot down, "Can you put them both in at the same time?"

A beat of silence. Then-

"Fuck," Benny groaned, "Fuck, that's hot." There was no doubt in Frankie's mind now that Benny had quite liked having his dick so close to Santi's, so it made him grin when Benny moved forward to stand beside his friend and jut his cock out toward Frankie's mouth.

"Open up, Fish."

Dropping his jaw once again and staring wide eyed up at his teammates, cum still fresh and sticky all over his face, Frankie allowed Benny and Santi to slide both their cocks into his waiting mouth. The feeling was insane. The taste was insane. All masculine and heady and musky and wet, the smell of sweat and raw sex invading his nostrils as they both pushed their dicks further in alongside each other. Frankie felt two hands in his hair, one of Santi's and one of Benny's, holding him still.

"Oh fuck, I need a picture of this," Benny groaned, blinking furiously as he peered down at where he and Santi's dicks jutted out from Frankie's mouth. "Will, grab Pope's camera, I'm serious. I need to remember this."

As Will made his way to the bunks, Frankie continued to blink slowly and languidly, tongue almost lazily swirling along the fat heads of the two big cocks in his mouth. They were dripping everywhere, warm and sticky, layering the back of his tongue with all of their arousal. And he was so fucking overwhelmed.

"Two cocks," Santi breathed, thumbing a bit of Will's cum that had begun to dry on Frankie's cheek, "Two fat cocks for Frankie, huh?"

"Look at how his lips stretch," Benny added, pushing his cock in the tiniest bit further to watch how Frankie's mouth adjusted to the size, "S'like he was made for it."

"He was made for it," Santi agreed softly, pushing some hair out of Frankie's face and tucking it behind his ear, "Huh, Francisco? Were you made for this?"

Another slow blink and an even slower nod, careful not to dislodge the appendages in his mouth. Benny assessed the door Will had left through and then hesitated for a moment before turning to Santi and whispering, "You feel good, Pope," under his breath.

"So do you," Santi replied with a smile, "Y'got a nice dick."

Benny seemed a bit flustered, avoiding Santiago's gaze as he muttered, "Thanks."

Will rejoined them a few seconds later, Santiago's polaroid camera in hand. Frankie watched with pleasure as Will brought the camera over his head and faced it downwards, preparing the shot.

"Chipmunk cheeks," Will murmured fondly, snapping the picture with a smile, "This'll do great for the annual Christmas card, huh boys?" It was a joke of course; they all knew that what was happening right would more than likely never leave the base, but Santi and Benny laughed nonetheless, pushing their cocks just a little bit more into Frankie's mouth.

"He's full," Benny murmured, "All filled up."

"Not entirely," Santi chuckled, "But close enough."

Their teasing words, their smiles and their laughs, it was making Frankie crazy. His untouched cock was still bobbing on its own accord, twitching and dripping as they talked about him like he wasn't even there. He was going to come soon, he just knew it, and the thought alone made him whine around his friend's dicks, his eyes rolling back.

"Shh, it's okay, Francisco," Santi reassured him softly, "Just give us one more minute to enjoy this, okay? Will's gonna take a few more pictures. You just stay still and keep suckin' on those cocks."

"You got this, Fish," Benny murmured, "You can do it, you're a good boy."

I am, Frankie thought to himself as he closed his eyes and heard the snap of another photo, I am a good boy.

Will took two more pictures with the camera so they'd each have one, tugging the polaroids out as they developed and waving them in the air. This was better than any porno magazine they'd ever be able to stow away, something real and raw, perfect spank bank material.

"I want the first one, where his eyes are open," Santi told Will when he was done, "Calling dibs."

"You got it."

Finally, Benny and Santi pulled themselves slowly out of Frankie's mouth, leaving him nothing but a drooling, lightheaded mess on his knees in front of them. He gasped for breath, head going down as he coughed and spluttered. He felt Will's hands patting his back, helping him through it as his chest heaved.

"Gonna come all over that pretty face, Fish," he heard Benny groan, "Open that mouth again, gonna fill it up."

With all the strength he could muster, Frankie tilted his head up and shakily opened his mouth again. His jaw was sore and aching but he knew he could last a little longer, knew he could give his friends what they needed before he collapsed in a heap on the floor. He watched as Benny jerked his cock in front of his face, watched the way his precum bubbled and spilled at the tip before being replaced with ropes and ropes of hot cum. If Benny was known for anything when it came to their little extracurriculars, it was certainly the ridiculous amount of spend he was able to produce.

"Right in the back of his fuckin' throat," he groaned, watching as it spurted into Frankie's open mouth, "Knew I had perfect aim." He redirected the head of his cock to further paint more of Frankie's face, covering him with thick white all over his cheeks and lips. "Don't swallow it, Fish," he managed to moan out, "Keep aaaall of it in there for me like the good boy you are."

A few more spurts along his neck and chest, one more in his mouth, and then Benny was tapping the head of his cock against Frankie's tongue again, watching as the last few drops spilled out onto it. Frankie peered up at him with heavy lids, a low moan emitting from the back of his throat.

"Yeah," Benny breathed, tapping his tongue again, "That's for you, s'all for you." He pulled his cock out and took a step back, nodding toward Santi, "Go ahead, man. I think he's spent."

"He'll be okay," Santi said softly, shuffling in front of Frankie again and pressing the sticky tip of his cock to the corner of his cum-filled mouth, "Huh, baby? Can you last a little longer? Just a few more minutes for me?" Frankie nodded and he smiled, "Open wide, baby boy."

"Come on, I don't want him to swallow it yet," Benny said a little exasperatedly as Santi slipped the head of his cock past Frankie's lips, the tiniest bit of Benny's cum dribbling from the left corner of his mouth.

"He won't swallow," Santi murmured, "He's just gonna get my dick a little wet." He looked up to share a knowing look with Benny, like a little secret between them, and Benny turned bright red.

At his words, Frankie swirled Benny's cum around the head of Santi's cock, coating it in the salty substance. He gazed up into Santi's eyes as he did it, almost like he was silently whispering to him, pleading; I'm ready now, I'm ready for you to give it to me.

"Okay, Francisco," Santi whispered, just for him, "Lo has hecho tan bien." You've done so well.

He pulled out of Frankie with a pornographic squelching sound and began to work Benny's cum and Frankie's saliva up and down the length of his cock, still staring directly into Frankie's deep brown eyes. He bit down on his bottom lip, brows furrowing as he brought himself closer and closer to the edge.

"Ask for it," he said quietly, edged with something unhinged.

"Please," Frankie breathed, voice garbled and muffled by the cum in his mouth and the ache in his throat, "Please come on me, Santi."

And that was enough.

"Mierda," Santi groaned out, stomach tensing as his thick cock twitched in his grasp. Frankie didn't close his eyes this time, kept them locked onto Santi's as cum drenched his face. It splashed along his cheek and nose in short bursts, dripped down his neck and collected in the corners of his mouth. Without being able to help it, he popped his mouth open one final time to allow Santi to add more cum to the cocktail on his tongue.

"Christ," Will muttered a few steps away, "Would ya look at that?"

"This," Benny sighed, a smile in his voice, "This is what we needed. Fuck Redfly, man."

In any other circumstance Santiago probably would have smacked Benny on the back of the head for disrespecting the team leader, but he was a little more than preoccupied at the moment. He was still staring down into Frankie's eyes, lost in a daze as Frankie tugged him back into his mouth with his tongue and sucked the last remaining spurt of cum from the tip of his cock.

"C'mere, watch him swallow," Santi gestured for the others to join him, and they all resumed their positions in front of Frankie with heavy lidded eyes as they watched him suck.

"Show us first," Benny murmured, "Come on, Fish, show us what's in your mouth, huh?"

Releasing Santi's cock with a pop, Frankie carefully opened his mouth to show his friends the pool of cum swirling on his tongue, dripping down into the soft pockets of his cheeks. Practically in awe, they all stared as he played with it, twisted his tongue back and forth and moving the thick globs of cum from one side of his mouth to the other.

"Swallow," Santi whispered, and Frankie obeyed.

It felt like heaven going down his throat, thick and warm. His eyes rolled a little, tongue darting behind his teeth to lick any that he'd missed, swallowing again and then dropping his jaw to show them his clean tongue, mouth empty.

"Good boy."

They stood there in silence for a moment, almost in reverence. Frankie was a mess, covered in three thick loads of spend and still on his knees with his cock bobbing against his stomach. He was so aroused it was almost painful, the head of his cock pulsing along with his heartbeat as he waited for an order, a command. He whined a little, waiting for someone to do something.

"Untie him," Santi finally told Benny with a smirk, "I think he's ready now."

Ready was an understatement. So much of an understatement in fact that Benny had barely brushed against Frankie's hands to untie the string when Frankie was suddenly letting out the loudest moan of the night, high and unbridled and full of pleasured desperation. Benny practically ripped the string from his hands to turn around and get a better look, watching with wide eyes as Frankie started to come with his cock completely untouched.

It was truly a sight to behold. His three friends stood frozen with their eyes glued to Frankie's cock as it bobbed and twitched of it's own accord, slapped repeatedly against his own stomach and dipped into his belly button. They watched as thick ropes of cum began to spill from his weeping tip, painting his stomach and chest, his chin, the floor. His balls shivered and tightened, more spurting out again and again as he writhed and shook on his knees, making the most pathetic little sounds as his eyes rolled.

Four loads now.

They were all in shock. They'd known he could do it, had felt him come in his pants untouched more than enough times at that point to know it was possible for him. But Christ, they'd never seen anything like it.

The room went silent as Frankie caught his breath, as he came down from his untouched orgasm and his loud outburst. They all watched as his cock continued to twitch with aftershocks, Benny letting out a soft groan when a little more cum dribbled from the tip. And then it was over.

More silence, save for Frankie's gasps and whimpers. And then Will took a step forward.

"Thank you, Fish," he told him earnestly, patting him on the shoulder and squeezing it gently, "That was... fuck. Thank you. You're fuckin' incredible."

Frankie looked up at him through fluttering lashes and nodded with a small smile, and then Will disappeared back to the bunks.

Benny was next. He got down on Frankie's level and came face to face with him, a grin on his face, "You're so pretty, Frank," he told him softly, "And you did so good. S'at what you needed?" Frankie nodded and Benny ruffled his hair a little bit, "Thanks, man. Thank you. We're gonna kill it tomorrow."

He followed his brother back to the bunks, leaving just Frankie and Santi alone together. Just like Benny had, Santi kneeled down to meet Frankie at eye level, picking up his cap along the way and carefully placing it on top of Frankie's head with a smile.

"Did I do good?" Frankie asked him softly, voice hoarse.

Santiago smiled even wider, pulled the cap down a bit further and murmured, "Si, Francisco. Perfecto."

A sleepy and sated grin lit up Frankie's cum-coated face. He could still feel everything, the thick layer of spend on his cheeks and chest, his slowly softening cock, the ache in his jaw - and he loved all of it. It felt right. So fucking right.

"Can you take a picture?" he suddenly asked, eyes alight, "Of me? Like this? I wanna... I wanna keep it. To remember it."

Santi's eyes softened even more, hand coming up to gently stroke Frankie's bare shoulder, "I can do that."

Santi grabbed the polaroid camera, held it front of his face and peered down at Frankie with a fond smile as his friend looked up at him softly, tiredly. "Show me those eyes, Francisco," he murmured, and Frankie halted the fluttering of his lashes to give the camera his ultimate fucked-out expression, a smile playing at his lips. The camera flashed and Santi pulled out the developed picture, waving it in the air as he settled back down in front of Frankie.

"Look at all this," he murmured softly, reaching up to gently thumb a bit of the cum on Frankie's face and scoop it carefully into his friend's mouth. Frankie sucked Santi's thumb with ease, sleepy and docile.

"S'yours," Frankie breathed when Santi pulled it back out.

Santi raised an eyebrow, "Mine?"

"What you just put in my mouth," Frankie clarified with a flush to his cheeks, "That was yours."

"You can tell?"

Frankie nodded with a soft chuckle, "Yeah, I can tell you all apart."

And if that wasn't the hottest thing Santiago had ever heard in his life.

Getting up from the floor was a bit of a task, but Santi helped him every step of the way. He lead Frankie to the showers where he let him lean against the wall, let him bask in the warmth of the hot water and the feeling of soap and shampoo as Santi worshipped him in a different way, a new way. Pressed kisses to his temples and his forehead, took his time lathering Frankie's arms and legs, gently cleaned his coated face and spent cock. And when he was done, Santi wrapped him in a towel and brought him back to his bunk, laid beside him and kissed him slow and deep until it felt like all that existed was just the two of them, nobody else.

He'd placed the polaroid in Frankie's bedside table and stroked his hair, murmured those familiar soft and gentle praises as he drifted to sleep.

Needless to say, their first mission was a success.

You're lying down with him now. It's well past midnight, moonlight streaming in through your bare-bones new bedroom as you peer at him quietly from under your lashes. He looks tired - he's been talking for over an hour now.

"There's more," he murmurs, eyes drooping, "More happened after that, a lot more, but I-"

"You've told me more than enough," you whisper, "You've been so honest, Frankie." Your thumb comes up to stroke his cheek, your mouth turning up slightly at the corners when his eyes start to close, "Thank you for telling me about that."

He hums, breathes deeply as sleep slowly starts to find him. You can't help but stare at him, watch his face turn peaceful, the lines in the corners of his eyes smoothing out, his full lips relaxing into a natural frown. He's so beautiful. He's so.... good.

You think of him back then, the way he probably used to be. So unsure, so new to the real world and so close to facing things he'd never anticipated. You picture him lying in his bunk with Will above him, Santi and Benny beside him, Tom somewhere else, somewhere distant - it makes sense now. It all makes sense.

And now he's lying in his own bed, in his own house, years later - with you. You, the only thing you think has really made sense to him for a long time, the only thing that's helped him overcome some of life's worst obstacles, the pain and the trauma from the shit he's dealt with throughout his life.

But despite all of this, despite the past few years you've spent together, you suddenly can't help but wonder where he'd be right now if you hadn't met.

Would he be in Santiago's bed?

You slip out from under the blankets and grab your phone from your nightstand, making sure to turn out the light before heading to the kitchen. Your nostrils are met with the smell of fresh paint and leftover chow mein as you flick on the overhead and settle yourself on one of the stools at the kitchen island.

Unsure exactly why, you unlock your phone and scroll through your contacts, biting your lip as you search for Santiago's name. When you finally find it, you tap on it, feeling something odd sink in your heart when you see the lack of messages. You've never texted him? Not even once? You lean back and try to think of the last time you even had a conversation alone with him without Frankie or the others there, just a one-on-one interaction... and you come up blank.

He'd been such a huge part of Frankie's life. And still is now - still sees him on weekends, goes to games and bars, came over to the old apartment for drinks and dinner pretty regularly. He's been there for Frankie in ways you never could have imagined or guessed, took care of him and comforted him, would probably take a bullet for him - hell, he actually might've for all you know.

You look back down at your phone and stare at the blank space where words should be, feel that guilt from earlier rise in your chest and make a home in the form of a lump in your throat.

You start typing out a message.

[ihaechans]

Smile! (You’re on camera) || N.JM

PAIRING ▸ Na Jaemin x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ pure smut

WARNINGS/CONTENT ▸ profanity, oral (m), hair pulling, throat fucking, praise, sexual photography/videos, dom!Jaemin, dirty talk, unbearable amount of pet names, slight hand job, spit kink (i apologize for this but not rlly...) unprotected sex (use protection plsss)

SUMMARY ▸Jaemin loves taking pictures. He loves the beautiful and captivating nature, golden sunsets, gloomy rainy days, and flower fields. The only sight that is his favorite though, is the one of his girlfriend on her knees.

WORD COUNT▸ 2.5k

A/N: First smut in like 5 months #yolo. this draft is so old it's been sitting half-completed for like a year and a half so I finally decided to just finish it today. Oops.

Jaemin loved a lot of things.

Loved a lot of things about you to be exact.

First sight and he knew he had to have you, putting in hours and hours worth of effort. He's lucky it paid off. He scored the girl of his dreams, the girl he saw as perfect in every way and he’s so lucky he did.

He’s lucky for someone as perfect as you. He was lucky that someone could relate to him on an emotional level without feeling awkward or uncomfortable sharing his feelings with, one of the things he had feared you wouldn’t understand in the beginning. He loved the way you were unapologetically yourself, not hiding or masking your true self, being confident and bold in anyway you could.

He also thinks you’re the prettiest girl in the world, made just for him and him only. Everything about you was just perfect.

“Look at my pretty girl,” his voice sounds rough and strained, but his hand holds his camera steady. “You’re so perfect. Sucking my cock like a fucking pro.”

Nothing about this position was comfortable. Your knees are red and sore from kneeling on the wooden floors for a concerning amount of time, your jaw aching and your eyesight blurred by tears. You know you look a hot mess but Jaemin thinks you’re absolutely stunning.

His beloved camera is steady in one hand as the other finds purchase in your hair. Pulling, and tugging aggressively on your hair as you cry out around his thick cock, every moan and groan sending pleasurable vibrations throughout his body.

“Open up princess, show the camera that pretty little mouth.” and you do, letting his dick rest heavily on your tongue. “That’s it, baby. Now keep it open,” he demands, smiling happily when you cooperate without hesitation.

A fat string of Jaemin’s saliva lands on your tongue, a wicked smirk forming across his features when he grabs the base of his dick, slapping his tip across your tongue a couple of times to smear his spit around. 

“Mmh,” he groans, nearly cumming at the sight of your eager hand attempting to fully take him back into your mouth. “My sweet girl is a little impatient I see.”

In the beginning, you were never really a big fan of giving head, but being with Jaemin changed you. He was great in bed, and the first couple of times you two had sex, he would never let you suck him off. He always preferred giving instead of receiving, but something had awoken inside of you the first time he finally let you have a taste.

He was so vocal and appreciative of how skilled you were with your mouth, the praise and constant reminders of this were the sole reason why you kept doing it, and over time you came to enjoy it more and more. 

“Shit-” You lick at his sensitive tip before taking him back into your mouth, cheeks becoming hollow as you suck on him with fervor. “You love my cock don’t you pretty girl? Always so fucking good at sucking my dick. Made just for you baby.”

You simply nod at all his nonsense, barely paying him any mind as you continue sucking him harder, faster as seconds pass by. Your hand strokes his base and plays with his balls as you stare up at him, the overwhelming sensation feeling all too good. He stares at you from the other side of his camera, nearly forgetting to record when you trace the sensitive vein on the underside of his cock.

“Fuck yes.” He shudders, thighs beginning to shake uncontrollably as he nears his climax. “God baby, gonna let me cum down your tight little throat?” You nod without hesitation and immediately, the grip on your hair is unbearably sharp and painful, your boyfriend forcing your head down to take his entire cock down your throat.

You can barely breathe but you love it, your airway being stuffed full of your beloved boyfriend’s dick was something you would never complain about. “My baby looks so pretty. Mouth stuffed full of my cock and tears in her eyes.”

His voice is unstable and rushed, the intensity of his approaching orgasm making him sound winded.

He thrusts his cock down your throat a couple more times before blowing his load down your throat, almost causing you to choke as he demands you to swallow it all.

You’re sure that you’re drooling everywhere, lips smeared with his cum and your saliva.

“So fucking sexy. Open wide.” You do once more, showing the camera that you had indeed, swallowed all of his cum. “I’m not done with you yet princess, get on the bed.” Now that he’s finished, he sounds more relaxed and controlled, his voice steady and the camera following your every move.

Jaemin pulls his sweatpants back up as he watches you follow his orders. “Take your clothes off, I wanna see you baby.” In seconds, you are completely naked on his bed, waiting patiently for his next direction. “All fours.” Spinning around in a rush, you get on all fours, wiggling your ass in front of Jaemin and the camera. 

A hash slap is delivered to the flesh and you groan, mind wondering if Jaemin would be nice and stretch you out with his fingers or dive straight in to fucking you. Jaemin was big. The biggest you had ever seen. The heaviest you had ever handled too.

“Gonna fuck your tight little hole so good, just watch.”

You assume he’s talking to the camera since you are currently facing the bedsheets, about to beg him to do something when his fingers start rubbing against your folds. “Shit Jaem.. please fuck me…”

He simply ignores you, continuing his teasing touches against your cunt. You open your mouth to complain when he shoves a finger inside of you, a whine slipping out instead. “So warm. Wonder how good it’ll feel around my cock.” He groans, moving the camera closer to get a clearer view of his fingers shoved deep inside of your pussy.

“Please… oh my god.” When he finds the spot that makes your toes curl, you know it's over. Your climax approaching faster than you expected. “Stop! Please- I can’t.”

Jaemin is stuck in his own world, blocking out the sound of your pleas and whines as he watches your body quiver and flail around in front of him. “Just once princess, please cum for me and I promise I’ll fuck you.”

The softness in his tone throws you off for a moment and the pace of his fingers picking up speed nearly makes you choke. You’re so close, but the thing that makes you climax is the feeling of his tongue against your hole.

“Shit!” You curse, shivering as you reach your high. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!“ Jaemin doesn’t stop when you climax, and all you can do is cry out and plead for him to stop against the bedsheets.

“Look how pretty…” He whispers.

Your entire body feels numb as he continues to abuse your hole with his fingers, not once stopping until you feel another orgasm building up inside of you.

“Please Jaem- fuck! I cant Jaemin, stop, oh my god…” There’s tears in your eyes, the pressure becoming overwhelming. All you could hear was the sounds of your soaking wet cunt being abused by Jaemin's thick fingers as he chuckled evilly at your suffering.

His camera was focused straight on your core, the lens picking up every single detail. “Such a good girl, taking everything I give you.” and finally, he stops, leaving a harsh slap to your ass as he pulls his fingers out of you.

You’re writhing on the mattress, mouth hanging open as thin strings of drool slip out onto the sheets. “I- fuck, I can’t Jaem-“ you breathe, clearly out of breath.

“I haven’t even put my dick in you yet and you’re already fucked out? How cute.” He adjusts his grip on the camera so that it’s capturing the mess he’s made of your cunt perfectly, adding another slap to your ass for the video.

“Turn around and spread your legs for me baby,” Your boyfriend starts, stripping out of his sweatpants as he awaits you to follow his direction. “I’m gonna fuck you now.” 

Your whole body hurts already, and you’re barely able to follow his order, groaning weakly as you muster the strength to flip yourself around and spread your legs for Jaemin to see. A low curse leaving his lips as he stares at the mess he’s already made out of you.

The room felt muggy as a thin sheen of sweat formed on your forehead, strands of loose hair matting onto your skin and mascara starting to smudge from the heat your body was emitting. “Please fuck me..” Jaemin smirks proudly when he hears you whine for him, staring straight at you with dark eyes.

“Shit,” he curses under his breath, getting tired of holding the camera in his hand. “Gonna fuck this pussy so good.” and with that, Jaemin stops recording, throwing the camera down onto the carpet below.

Positioning himself between your spread legs, you could feel the heat radiating from his skin, wondering how it would feel inside of you next.

“You want it so bad,” he growled, stroking your cunt with his tip. “You’re going to take it all, aren’t you?”

The anticipation was nearly unbearable, and you nodded feverishly.

“Yes...please,” you whispered, desperate for the relief only he could provide you with.

With one swift movement, Jaemin thrusts into you, filling you completely and sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout your body. Jaw slack, you gasp and moan, the feeling of him inside of you completely overstimulating.

“Oh fuck, baby,” He panted, feeling your pussy clench around him. He picked up the pace, his thrusts getting harder and faster, his thighs slapping against your ass with each movement. You felt his cock hitting that spot deep inside of you, sending you soaring higher and higher with each surge.

“Oh god, Jaem, yes, harder, deeper,” you pleaded, your nails digging into the sheets as you arched your back, meeting his every thrust. Jaemin grunted in response, his voice hoarse with lust as he poured everything he had into you.

Another climax hit you, this one even more intense than the last, and you wailed out his name as you came, clenching around him until he thrust once more, his own release filling you.

As he collapsed onto you, both breathless and spent, you couldn't help but smile weakly, your body still trembling from the intensity of the experience. Jaemin looked down at you, his eyes softening as he gently kissed your forehead.

“You're so beautiful,” he murmured, stroking your hair. The camera had long since stopped recording, but the memories of this night would be forever etched in your mind along with every other moment you spent with Jaemin.

[overtrred28]

So high school | Jessie Fleming x reader

Summary; The story of how you and Jessie were brought together one fateful night in college and didn't leave each others side ever again.

Words; 2050

Pairing; Jessie Fleming x UCLA reader

A/N; Mother Taylor has inspired me and a tiktok that paired a footballer with an academic girl and I had thoughts. Then I was wondering who to do it with and THEN… UCLA J FLEM. I hope you enjoy this as much as I do because I’m in a Jessie mood rn. Btw this has been sitting in my drafts for literally like 2 months and I haven't had the inspiration to finish it until today. Enjoy loves xx

Jessie was more than kind of uncomfortable right now.  She was tired after a full day of classes and an early morning training session, wanting to flop into bed after her long day and sleep away most of the weekend. But here she was, nursing a cup of coke in the corner of a frat house and wishing she had declined the invitation to come out with half of the soccer team. 

“You good?” Teagan had made her way over, leaning against the wall and looking down at the midfielder who was seemingly lost in thought.

“Yeah, fine.” Jessie nodded her head, hiding the fact she desperately didn’t wanna be here anymore. 

“Why don’t you try and go talk to someone? I’m sure there are plenty of pretty girls catching your eye right now.” Teagan nudged her shoulder with a smirk, downing her drink before walking away again. Jessie sighed before taking another sip of her coke and walking to another section of the house where more people congregated. 

Her eyes filtered through the room, trying to take the goalkeeper's advice but giving up after noticing every pretty girl making their way over to someone else. Eventually her feet mindlessly walked her over to the back door, the glow of the pool under the moonlight catching her eye first before she spotted you. 

Your friends had practically dragged you from your dorm, insisting you had to come and party with them, but where were they? Probably inside making out with frat guys and forgetting you actually came with them. That’s how you had found yourself sitting on a deck chair outside, avoiding the loud music and heavily intoxicated 20 year olds celebrating the start of their senior year, after your friends ditched you early on.

It didn’t bother you, them leaving you alone that is. And you could have gone home but you wanted to stay and make sure your friends made it home safely. 

Jessie only saw the side of your face from how you were positioned on the chair but immediately found herself drawn to you. People may have called her crazy for falling with just one look, but when you know, you know. 

You didn’t hear the sliding door open, too busy looking up at the moon and wondering what else you could be doing right now if you stayed in bed. It wasn’t until you heard the chair beside you creek that you finally noticed her, snapping your head at the noise and becoming encapsulated by her big brown eyes and freckles immediately. 

“Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.” She apologised, her eyes somehow getting bigger and more beautiful. 

“I-it’s okay.” You let out a breath. “Just wasn’t expecting anyone else to be out here.” You shared a soft giggle and she finally smiled. 

“Yeah, not really my scene.” Jessie shrugged and began sitting back in the chair, copying her movements and turning your head to face her.

“Me either.” You smiled before reaching out a hand to her. “Y/N.”

“Jessie.” She connected your hands, ignoring the tingling she felt in her fingers while you pushed down the butterflies fluttering around your stomach. 

You two spent the rest of the night talking before she offered to walk you back to your dorm, after finding out your friends had already left with guys and you were left alone. Well, not so alone now. 

The next few weeks would find you and Jessie with each other as much as possible, save for your individual classes, and you were happier than ever. You weren’t dating, no but it began to feel like it, especially when you ran down the bleachers after she won her next match, Jessie catching you as you jumped into her arms with pride. 

After almost two months since meeting you finally had your first kiss. It wasn’t super romantic but exactly how you would have wanted it to go. You and Jessie were hanging out in her dorm, you studying for an upcoming exam and her pretending to catch up on classwork but really spent the whole time staring at you. 

“Jessie.” You were focused on the millions of highlighted poems and texts that sounded you on the floor but could feel her eyes burning in the back of your head. “I can feel you staring.”

“What?” Jessie acted dumb, biting her lip to hold back a smile as she watched you turn your head, raising an eyebrow.

“You know that if you don’t get this work done you’re not playing this weekend. And I already cleared my schedule to watch you soooo.” You sat up fully, leaning back on your arms to look up at her on her bed.

“Can we not just take a small break? We’ve been at this for hours!” She whined, tilting her head at you, a fake pout accompanied by some puppy dogs eyes. 

“It’s literally been 45 minutes.” You deadpanned as you got up and jumped up to sit next to her. 

“45 minutes too long.” She huffed and you stifled a laugh as you looked at her. 

“What would you rather us do then?” You asked while shaking your head at her, letting out that laugh but stopping when her silence was noted. You looked up to find her staring, no, gazing into your eyes, a look on her face she had many times but this was the first time you noted it. She looked lovestruck. 

Your mouth opened to speak again but you were cut off when she was suddenly moving forward, one hand reaching up to hold your cheek and the other moving down to hold your waist. Before you could process anything, her lips were on yours and it was as if you had been transported into another world.

After that kiss your relationship didn’t seem to change that much, still spending almost all of your time together, though this time spending it a little closer and with a lot more kissing. Something about your relationship felt so young and naive, like you were back in high school making out at parties and never spending more than a couple hours apart from one another. 

You now went to all her training sessions, sitting in the bleachers finishing homework while she prepared for their next match. Jessie loved you just being there but was getting a little annoyed that you weren’t fully paying attention as she ran rings around her teammates in an effort to impress you. She knew the perfect way to get your nose out of your books. 

“HEY BABE!” Jessie shouted up to you across the pitch. The sheer volume and urgency of her voice caught your attention instantly, looking up to find her waving her arm comically in your direction. 

“What?” You laughed alongside her teammates who were standing on the pitch waiting for something to happen. 

“WATCH THIS!” She yelled again before running back to her starting position, eyeing up the cones and dummies she meticulously laid out and the ball that laid in wait for her. You bit back a smile at her excited nature, waiting for her to begin whatever trick she was about to show off. 

She began dribbling the ball skillfully through the first few cones that were placed closely together. Yourself and her remaining teammates watched her feet intensely, quite impressed with how precisely she was keeping the ball in and under her feet. She made it through her round of cones and looked up towards you in the stands, making sure you were in fact watching her and whether or not you were impressed. But what she failed to notice was how close she had positioned the steel dummies that were part of her second skill test. 

Everyone saw it happen before she did, running straight into the dummy, too distracted by you to realise she was running into it. You heard the ding from halfway up the bleachers and within seconds you were racing down to her on the pitch, trying to keep your laughter at bay so you could seriously check on her. 

“Jessie, are you okay?” You knelt down to where Jessie was now sitting up, legs splayed across the grass and a hand to her temple, soothing where she hit her head. 

“Don’t laugh. I was just trying to impress you.” Jessie finally spoke, avoiding your eyes and producing a pout, meanwhile her freckled cheeks were getting redder than they already were. 

“Oh baby I know. It was very impressive till… you know.” You directed her eyes back to you with a soft smile, biting your lip again to hold back your laugh. 

That night Jessie continued to pout, even when you were giving her all your attention, laying between your legs as you held an ice pack to her temple and babying her all night long even though you didn’t put the dummy there, she did. 

After graduation you moved with Jessie to England for her contract with Chelsea, you managed to land a position at the University of London, teaching in the English department, a great start to your life together in a new country.  

Jessie proposed to you in January of 2022 after three and a half years of dating, keeping it private and personal by dropping down on one knee as you were getting into bed one cold night. 

Clad in flannelette pyjamas and fluffy socks, just having got out of the shower, you walked back into the bedroom expecting Jessie to be curled up in bed and waiting for you. But as you turned the corner she was bent down on one knee and holding a ring in her shaking hands. Jessie had prepared a whole speech about how much she loves you and wants to spend the rest of her life with you but in true Jessie fashion she got nervous and the only words that came out were. “Marry me? Please?” 

You both took the next year to plan the wedding for Spring 2023 before the world cup, wanting to make sure you knew what you wanted and to enjoy being engaged before being married. 

The big day finally arrived and you hadn’t seen Jessie in more than 24 hours, both of your bridesmaid groups separating you from one another for practically the first time in almost 5 years. 

It was a beautiful ceremony filled with all for your close family and friends to celebrate your love and unite your families. You cried, Jessie cried, everyone cried. The reception though was one massive party. Everyone danced, everyone drank and most of all you got to have fun with your wife like you did back in college. 

At the end of the night, after the party ended and everyone went home, you and Jessie were sipping champagne on your hotel room floor, giggling with one another in the silent room while wearing matching pyjamas. 

“I love you.” Jessie said as she stared, no gazed, in your direction. “You’re so pretty, will you marry me?” Her words were slightly slurred as her tipsy frame swayed back and forth every so slightly. 

“Too late, already did.” You laughed as you brought your left hand up to her face, showing off both of your shining rings. “Look.” You brought her hand up too, showing her own ring clad fingers to her, shock adorning her freckled face. 

“We’re married already?!” Jessie shrieked and you knew it was time for bed. 

“Yes, now come on. Time for bed my love.” You placed a kiss on her lips before putting your flutes down and pulling Jessie up with you from the floor. You dragged her over to the large bed, crawling alongside each other to then assume your regular positioning. Jessie waited for you to get comfortable against the pillows before laying herself across your chest, her pillow. 

“Baby?” Jessie spoke after a few minutes, tilting her head to look up at you. 

“Hmmm?” You respond as you begin to stroke her hair gently. 

“Tell me about the first time you saw me.” Jessie asked before setting back down against your chest. You let out a small breath, a smile donning your face as she asked you. 

“Well, I was sitting at a party next to the pool…” 

THE END

[lovedrruunk]

It would be so cool if you could write a venture x reader where Y/N is too nervous to speak to Venture so Mercy wingmans for them‼️

‘The best wingwoman ! ଘ(˵╹ᴗ╹)━☆

Venture (Overwatch) x GN reader

Authors note!; super cute request!!! Did I tell u guys I'm a mercy main…. DISGUSTING I KNOW!! But I also main Ana so it cancels out… also tbh there’s a lot of requests that I haven’t gotten to *YET* simply bc idk how to go about them :( but this one came to me rlly easily !! Ty!!! also finished this whole thing while listening to phantom of the opera on repeat for 2 hours (i need 2 write a moira fic omg...) UPDATE: HELLO??? THE MERCY MYTHIC? okok ill stfu now sry!!

Earlier today, you were dragged to a work party by your colleague and guardian angel, Angela Ziegler. You begged her to let you stay home, but she refused, saying she wouldn't be able to go without you since you were the only coworker she actually enjoyed spending time with. And so, being the amazing friend you are, of course, you agreed to go to keep her company!... Just kidding!

Angela knew you too well. Once she mentioned that the cutie from the Wayfinder Society was attending, you did a complete 180, now asking her what you should wear. She couldn't help but laugh at your reaction, amused at how predictable you were when it came to romance.

Sloane Cameron, also known as Venture, also known as the cutie from the Wayfinder Society, had quickly captured your attention ever since you first met them a couple of months ago when the Wayfinder Society was adopted by Overwatch as a sub-branch. Being the head anthropologist for Overwatch led you to spending a good amount of time with Venture and their team. Granted, it was just work and sharing data and all that, but you couldn't help but find them super intriguing. They were funny, lively, and so passionate about their work! But as badly as you wanted to get to know them, you just couldn't. Their confidence was a blessing and a curse, being the cause of why you liked them and the cause of why you were so terrified of talking to them.

Every week or so, you and Angela meet up at the cafeteria at Overwatch's headquarters to catch up while drinking your morning coffee/tea/whatever, which you of course just use as time to gush about your overwhelming crush on your new coworker. But last week... last week, you had decided enough was enough. You made a promise to Angela that by next week, you would at least ask them if they'd want to hang out outside of work. Feeling pumped and confident, you had excitedly gotten all dolled up for the party.

And now, here you were. The party was in an old Victorian mansion with lots of expensive art and chandeliers, nothing less for Overwatch, of course. The first time you had attended a work party, you were extremely underdressed, assuming it was a casual get-together, not at all expecting it to be an elegant and serious "ball" like party. You cringed at the memory before Angela snapped you out of it, handing you a glass of champagne.

"So? Is today the day?" she questions as she leans against the back wall you had been standing next to.

"I don't know, Angela..." you whined as you not so discreetly stared at them from across the room.

It was the first time you had seen them in formal attire, and you couldn’t help but admire how they looked good in everything.

"Go ask them to dance!" She suggested happily.

"What!? No way! I can't dance, especially not with them!"

“Oh, don't give me that! The worst they could say is no."

"'No' is definitely not the worst they could say. They could say 'get away from me' or 'why are you talking to me about something other than rocks' or 'your foundation doesn't match your neck.. and no I would rather drop dead than dance with you'."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm serious!- Wait!! Did you see that? They smiled at the new rookie! What if they like her!? What if they came here together!? What if they're dating!? Married!!? Oh my god, and now they're chatting it up with Tiff from communications! They're laughing, what's so funny!?"

"You have got to be kidding me..."

"Right!? She's not even funnier than me..."

Catching you off guard, Angela grips your shoulders, forcing you to face her.

"Shut up," she says sternly, fighting off the urge to smack you in the face. "Just ask them. You'll never know until you do... And if you don't, I owe that infuriating geneticist twenty bucks..." She murmurs the last part to herself angrily.

"Y'know what? You're right!"

You quickly finish the glass of champagne, putting it on the table next to you. Feeling encouraged by your friend, you take a deep breath before marching towards Venture... right before turning your heel and marching straight back to Angela.

"I feel like I'm gonna throw up..."

"You haven't even said anything!!!"

After a bit of back and forth, Angela is fed up and tells you that if you weren't going to do anything about it, then she will.

As she makes her way towards Venture, you whisper yell at her, begging her to come back and let you give it another try. But knowing you, she decides to ignore your desperate pleas as she continues to happily strut towards them.

From the distance, you can't make out what they're talking about, and it's driving you nuts. Angela's back is facing you, but Venture's face lights up, so you decide to take that as a good sign. And just as you start to smile... Angela turns around and points at you.

You freeze in place for what felt like a year before your eyes focus again. Venture is grinning as they wave to you, and Angela uses her hand to call you over. You force a wide smile (not aware of how crazy you look) as you timidly walk up to the two of them.

"Y/N! I was just mentioning to our sweet Cameron over here how you love to dance! They've never been to a party like this, isn't that crazy!"

"Yeah!! Wayfinder never had the funding by itself to afford something like this! I've never really had a reason to learn how to dance, so I have no clue; was hoping you could teach me!?"

"Me? Oh, sorry! I don't know how to dance!"

"But... Dr. Ziegler just said.."

"I know! Poor little Angie... ever since her last birthday, her memory has been terrible!! Must've confused me with Lena!"

You could feel the death glare Angela was giving you, but you continued to smile innocently at them.

"Well... I guess this would be a good opportunity for us to learn, don't ‘cha think?" Of course. Of course, they would somehow find a solution to your excuse.

"Great idea!!" Angela claps her hands together happily. "Why don't you two head to the dance floor? You'll only learn from experience!"

"I agree!"

Before you can say anything, you're dragged by the hand of a very excited Venture, and although your palms are sweaty and your head is spinning, you can't help but feel so much excitement.

. . .

And so as the dancefloor clears and the two of you are making your way out to the gardens, you spot a grinning Angela and a scowling Moira putting away her wallet.

[justlemmeadoreyou]

Waiting^

sorry this is shit, i am just sad and wrote this. the ending sucks, I know. might do a part 2

. . .

You were excited. Excited was a small word to describe what you were feeling. Thrilled, maybe? 

Today was you and Harry’s 6 month anniversary. And it’s not as big as it sounds, but it was for you. It was the longest relationship you’d been in, without getting your heart broken or thrown away. 

You were excited, and so was Harry. He woke you up with his raspy voice, and an overload of kisses, that made your cheeks turn red from the utter adoration you felt for him in that moment. You couldn’t believe your surroundings at that moment. Being so much in love, it almost hurt.

You both cuddled, till one of you had to break away so that you both could leave for work, or you would have ended up lying there till the afternoon or so.

He had a few interviews today, which he promised to finish up early, so that he could be there at the dot, pulling out the chair for you on your reserved table. At 8 pm.

And now, as you glanced at your phone for what felt like the hundredth time that night. 8:46 pm. No sign of Harry. No call, or even a text.

You felt sad, almost pathetic sitting there and waiting for him. He forgot. Of course he did. He was so busy even when on a break, and had a million things to attend to. A stupid 6-month anniversary dinner was not worth his time.

The waiter gave you an apologetic look as he asked you if you were still waiting or were going to order.

“I think I’ll leave. Thank you.”

You picked up your belongings, your phone and purse, and headed out into the chill air outside. You walked to your car, trying to hold your tears in, atleast till you were inside and had the windows pulled up.

He could’ve just said that he wouldn’t be able to make it, when you had first asked him. Could’ve just said no, instead of standing you up and making you suffer.  That would have hurt less.

The tears escaped from the chokehold you’d held them in, flowing through your makeup, and on your red dress, which you had brought specially for this occasion. You had saved up for a few months so you could buy an expensive one, to at least try and curb the difference of him wearing a thousand-dollar suit.

But, it all went down the drain.

You started driving, wiping off the never-stopping tears so you could focus on the road. As you reached the intersection, instead of turning for the road to your shared home, you turned for your old apartment.

It had grown old, and Harry had suggested that you move in somewhere else. You were packing up to do that, and then he asked you to move in with him. You happily agreed.

Maybe that was the issue. You were a pushover, or just an easy game in general. That was why nobody could stand you for even three months. 

Turning and parking into the parking complex, you searched for the keys and went upstairs. Opening the door with a bit of effort, you made your way in. It had gotten dirty, but was enough to atleast spend the night in. You would move somewhere else tomorrow.

Making your way to the bedroom, you didn’t even bother turning on the lights. Removing the expensive dress and leaving it on the floor, you jumped on the bed, pulling the sheets to cover yourself. 

Your crying had stopped, but you couldn’t stop the repulsive and self-loathing thoughts filling your head. He didn’t forget anything, till today. He even remembered the smallest of the small details, even your college grades. How could he forget this?

Was he done? And he didn’t want anything more to with you anymore? Maybe it was all your  fault. You were so talkative and expressive of everything you felt. He got tired and needed breaks. But your stupid self just couldn’t understand, could it?

You weren’t perfect too. You didn’t have a skinny body or long legs like the models he had dated. Didn’t have that beauty, or that money. But, you worked hard and made enough to take care of yourself without depending on your parents or him. Wasn’t that enough? 

Maybe that wasn’t for him. Maybe he wanted all he had before, before you. Maybe he wanted to try a mediocre girl before going back to the ones he really wanted to be with. Maybe you were just a rebound for him. 

It took a while for you to focus on the sound ringing thoughout your room. It was your phone. A call from Harry.

“Hello”

“Hi” your voice sounded raspy, your throat swollen from all the crying.

“Love, I know I’m super late and I’m really fucking sorry. I just went for a few drinks with the guys and lost track of time. Are you near the restaurant? I’m halfway there-”

“You couldn’t call? Or even text?”

“Sorry. I’m really fucking sorry, it’s just, tha’ I-I completely forgot.” He was swearing a lot, something he did when he was drunk.

“You forgot? After I had been telling you for almost a month. I reminded you in the morning? And why are you driving after drinking? Are you insane?”

“Look, I’m really sorry. I know I messed up. Are you still near the place?”

“No, Harry! I’m not. It’s almost 10 now. The reservation was for 8 pm. And stop talking on the phone while drunk driving. Someone else couldn’t have dropped you?”

“Everyone was drunk, and I left without telling them. Will you just tell me where you are?”

“No, I won’t. Just turn around and go home. It’s just 5 minutes away. Don’t bother about me.”

“What? Why? Look, the signal is on. Just tell me. I’ll be there in a bit.”

“Go home!”

“Why are you bein so mean?”

“Bye, Harry”

. . .

taglist: @freedomfireflies @gurugirl

dm, or send an ask if you want to be added!

[brienneoftarth1989]

Under Her Desk NSFW

Larissa Weems x fem reader

Summary: It’s been a long day at work and you just needed to let off some steam. You head to Larissa’s office to go have some wine like you normally do. However, no one knows your supposed to be there. Larissa shoved you under her desk when someone comes in to have a chat with her. What a silly idea that was

Warnings: fingering, pinning, teasing, cunnilingus, sensual, humiliation, dirty talk, shifted cock, aftercare, smut

Requests open

———————————

The end of the school day was always your favourite especially on a friday night because that is when you get to see Larissa. After a long working day you would normally head back to your room which was on site. From there you would normally do some writing which always helps you relax. You enjoyed writing fanfics about your favourite actress.

After about an hour you would normally then spend another hour just listening to music while you get ready for the evening. You recently created a Spotify playlist called the Era’s Tour. You have added the whole setlist from the Taylor Swift Era’s tour including all the surprise songs she has performed so far.

After then spending an hour listening to music and sorting yourself out for bed you would then go have dinner before spending the rest of the evening watching your favourite movies and series. The series you were watching at the moment was a series called Chucky which is about a serial killer who transferred his soul into a doll. It was a good series which you recommend.

However things changed for you one day after you had finished a one to one meeting with Larissa. She asked you if you had any plans for the rest of the evening, to which you told her that you were just going to go to your room and chill like you normally do after work. Of course Larissa didn’t like the sound of such a boring evening so she invited you to her office for a glass of wine later that evening.

From that moment every Friday evening you would make your way to Larissa’s office for a glass of wine and a good old chat about the week the both of you have had. It was quite enjoyable and as time went on so did the types of activities the two of you shared. It started out with the two of you just chatting and drinking but you started to develop feelings for the tall beauty.

So one night you decided to see how far things would go and you told her that you liked her more than just a friend. That night you ended up sleeping together and now the two of you have been together for just over 8 months. It still didn’t feel real that you were dating such an amazing person.

However the two of you did decide that you would keep your relationship a secret for a little while. You didn’t want your colleagues thinking you were getting special treatment from the boss and even after the 8 months of being together the two of you still meet up every Friday for a glass of wine and to chat about the week the two of you have had.

So you were currently packing up your classroom so you could then head down to Larissa’s office. When you arrived outside of the large oak doors you knocked your secret knock before waiting for Larissa to invite you in. You never wanted to just barge in because sometimes her meetings run late and you would never want to interrupt them.

Plus at least if you knocked if she was in a meeting the person wouldn’t start questioning you about why you just invited yourself in. Not even five seconds later you hear Larissa call for you to come in. You opened the door to see just Larissa sitting at her desk with two glasses of wine already poured for the both of you.

You walked over to Larissa helping yourself to one of the glasses before taking a sip. You definitely did enjoy Larissa’s choices in red wines. “Hey babe, how have you been today?” you asked her as you perched yourself on her desk. “It’s been alright darling, just writing up the report from the incident that happened on outreach day. I know it has something to do with Wednesday but I just can’t seem to prove that she had something to do with it” she sighed before taking a sip of her wine.

“I swear that a child always seems to be up to something and is always the centre of attention when it comes to these types of incidents. I’m sure she will cock up one day so you are actually able to prove that you were right” you chuckled slightly trying to get her to crack a smile which you managed to achieve.

Larissa and Wednesday seem to have a love-hate relationship at the moment. Larissa deeply cares for Wednesday but Wednesday seems to be trying her hardest to get to her last nerve. Larissa doesn’t want to have to be so harsh on any of her students but if they keep pushing her to her wits end then there will be consequences.

“Enough about me, how has your day been?” she asked you while closing her laptop to give you all her attention. “It was alright. Just been teaching and marking papers so nothing too ex…”

BANG, BANG, BANG

You turned to look at the door before looking back to Larissa. “Are you expecting anyone?” you whispered to Larissa. “No I am not” she whispered to you. “Who is it?” Larissa then called out. “It’s Marilyn, would I be able to have a quick word if you're not busy” Marilyn shouted from the otherside of the door.

“Quick get under my desk I can’t have Marilyn know you're in here, she will get suspicious” she whispered before shoving you under her desk. She then handed your glass of wine to you so Marilyn didn’t question why she had two glasses of wine when she was the only one in the room. “Come in” Larissa then shouted to Marilyn.

This was humiliating! Why did you have to hide under the desk? It was at times like this you wished everyone knew that the two of you were dating but you knew better to rush things. Therefore you sat patiently under her desk sipping on your drink and eavesdropping on the conversation.

“So I have some concerns about Wednesday,” you heard Marilyn say to Larissa. Of course this conversation would be about Wednesday and you already knew that Larissa wasn’t in the best mood at the moment due to her. You also knew that Larissa most probably doesn’t even want to hear her name so you decided to cheer her up the only way you could at the moment.

You placed your hand on her bare calf and started to gently stroke up her leg. You were quite surprised she had foregone her stockings which she normally wore. At least this will make things a little easier. As you let your hands wander up her legs you started to leave small little kisses along the inside of her legs.

You heard her gasp slightly which she then covered up with a cough. “Are you alright Larissa?” you heard Marilyn ask. “Umm yeah, I’m fine, just had a little tickle in my throat which I needed to clear” Larissa responded. All you could do was smirk at her lie. As your hands travelled further Larissa slowly spread her legs which gave you access to everything.

You continued to press feather-like kisses up the inside of her legs before finally reaching her core. You knew she was turned on from this as there was a damp patch on her panties. You continued to leave sweet kisses over the top of her panties. You knew this was going to drive her wild and all she would be thinking is when will Marilyn leave?

You carefully moved Larissa’s underwear so they were now out of your way before latching onto her clit which you sucked on and traced with perfect little patterns that you knew Larissa enjoyed. You knew this would drive her wild and it won’t be long before she can no longer keep her cries and whimpers in.

“So what are we going to do about Wednesday Larissa?” Marilyn asked her. Larissa was trying her best to hold in her cries and moans. What a stupid idea to hide you under her own desk. “Umm.urr.. I’m not too sure at this moment in time. I..I need to have a word with We..Wednesday before I take any further action” Larissa managed to get out.

“Are you feeling ok?” Marilyn asked, concerned that her boss wasn’t able to compose a simple sentence without stuttering. “Ohh..I’m fine I’m just not feeling that great. I think maybe I need to go for a lay down” Larissa managed to say quite confidently. “Ok no worries Larissa, I hope you feel better soon” Marilyn said before leaving the room.

Larissa was quick to grab your head with her hand and push you further into her cunt forcing you to eat her out. You would die happy from suffocation. “Fuck y/n, yes right there, please put your fingers in me” Larissa finally moaned out. How could you deny her such things? You trailed your hand up her leg before lining two fingers up with the entrance of her pussy.

You slowly pushed your fingers in which slipped in with ease. “Fuck baby, you’re soaked” you moaned into her pussy. “Yes, all for you baby. Now fuck me like a slut” she moaned. Fuck she really knew how to turn you on as well. You slowly started to move your fingers inside of her before picking up the pace ever so quickly.

As you pounded her with your fingers you sucked harder on her clit. “Fuck y/n, I’m going to cum!” she moaned out. “Yes baby! Cum for me! I want to be drunk off your cum” you moaned. That was all it took before you felt Larissa’s walls clench around your fingers before she cried out from pleasure. “Yes baby, don’t stop, don’t stop!” you moaned as she came all over your fingers.

You let Larissa ride out her orgasm before slowly pulling your cum covered fingers from out of her. You put them straight in your mouth, sucking them clean. “You are in trouble” Larissa said while standing up allowing you to crawl out from under the desk. “What? Why? I just made you cum and somehow I’m in trouble” you laughed ever so slightly.

“Because my dear you did not have permission to touch me plus what if Marilyn had caught you” she smirked. “Well I would put on a show for her. I’m sure she would have loved to have stuck around to see who you belong to” you moaned as you pinned Larissa to the nearby wall.

“Ah I don’t think so! You’re done being in charge. Now it’s my turn to have my way with you” Larissa moaned into your ear before flipping you both around so you were now the one with your back flat against the wall. “Why don’t we take this to the bedroom” you whispered as you watched Larissa strip down in front of you.

“Oh what a brilliant idea” Larissa purred once she had removed all her clothing. She then grabbed your hand leading you to the shared bedroom. She immediately pushed you onto the bed before stripping you of all your clothing.

You felt yourself shiver as the cool air hit your body. “Aww is someone cold?” Larissa teased. “Don’t worry my sweet girl. I will have you sweating in no time” she whispered once again into your ear before starting to leave a trail of kisses from your neck down your body.

You squirmed under her touch. You knew where you wanted her but you knew deep down that Larissa was going to take her sweet time getting there and that was just what she did. Larissa slowly kissed down your neck before paying attention to your breasts.

She immediately latched onto one of your nipples while her hand pinched the other. You arch your back out of pain and pleasure. She knew just how to turn you on. “Fuck Larissa! Harder baby! Treat me like the slut I am” you moaned. “Oh don’t worry baby, I will make sure you are fucked like the slut you are” she moaned against your skin.

She continued to torture your nipples before slowly starting to make her way further down your body where you were desperate for her touch. She finally reached your throbbing core to which she left a small kiss on your clit. You threw your head back in pleasure. “Please baby” you moaned.

Larissa ran her finger up and down your slit brushing against your clit every so often “Oh, you want me to pleasure you? Well all you have to do is ask baby” she smirked. You knew she was up to something. “Please Larissa! Please fuck me” you moaned as the teasing intensivied.

“Ah ah, that is no way to ask me to please you. Now what do you say?” she smirked as she looked up at you as she continued to run her finger through your folds. You had a thought as to what the right answer would be and then it came to you. “Please mommy, please fuck me. I’m desperate and I need your touch” you moaned as you tried to buck your hips into her hand.

“That’s better baby girl” she moaned as she pushed one of her fingers in you as she latched onto your clit immediately. She knew just the way you liked it. She continued to add more fingers before she eventually had four fingers deep inside you as she continued to torture your clit with her tongue.

“Fuck Larissa I’m close! Please can I cum?” you practically screamed. “Yes baby! Cum over these fingers! I want to taste every drop of cum that comes out of you” she moaned as she kept up with her pace which only brought you closer and closer. “Fuck baby I’m cumming!” you screamed as you felt your walls clench around her fingers as you rode out your orgasm.

Larissa helped you ride off your orgasm as she lapped up all your juices. Once she knew that you had come down from your high she slowly pulled her fingers out of you which she put straight into her mouth. “Mmm you taste amazing darling” she moaned as she sucked her fingers clean.

Larissa stood up and you couldn’t help but stare at her growing member. “Uhh babe?” you question. Had Larissa forgot to tell you something? You could have sworn you were eating her pussy out about half an hour ago.

“What’s the matter darling” she asked you, getting slightly concerned herself. “Babe you have a penis!” you told her not sure how to react. Larissa looked down at herself before quickly trying to cover herself up.

She sat down next to you clearly embarrassed about what had just happened. “I’m sorry babe. I should have told you. I’m a shapeshifter and sometimes when I’m really horny I lose control of my ability and this is normally the result. Let me go and sort this out as it’s harder for me to shift back when I’m this hard” she said smiling softly before standing up.

You grabbed her hand before pulling her back towards you. “I have a better idea” you smirked before getting down on your knees. You grabbed her cock before slowly wrapping your mouth around the tip. Larissa gasped at the sudden action before letting out a moan as you swirl your tongue around the tip of her cock.

You coated her in your saliva before taking her out of your mouth. “I want you inside me” you moaned as you stood up. Larissa pushed you back onto the bed before lining herself up with your entrance. She slowly pushed herself inside of you, which you both let out a deep moan. Larissa allowed you to adjust to her size before she started to move inside you.

It didn’t take long until she found that perfect pace that was bringing you both closer and closer to the edge. “Fuck Rissa I’m going to cum again! I want you to cum inside me” you moaned as you wrapped your arms and legs around the tall beauty. That was all it took before you were both sent over the edge. You came first which caused Larissa to follow straight after.

You felt as her cum fill you up and it felt amazing as she continued to fuck it deeper inside of you. She finally came to a stop before pulling out of you. She watched as the cum oozed out of you. All you could do was lay there in post orgasmic bliss. Larissa was quick to stand up and head to the bathroom.

You ever so slightly sat up and watched as she walked back with a warm cloth. She had already shifted back. Just shows how desperate she was to cum. Larissa came over to clean you both up before she snuggled up next to you in bed. “Get some rest darling! I think I might have just fucked you dumb” she laughed.

All you could do was mumble a response as she wasn’t wrong. “Goodnight my sweet darling girl. Sweet dreams, I love you” she smiled as she laid down next to you. “I love you too” you managed to mumble out before sleep finally overtook your body.

[blackypanther9]

I’ll protect you

WARNING!: Mentions of abuse/abusive behavior, threatening, cursing, Protective!Alastor, mention of murder, mention of sexual abuse (in newspaper mentioned), hurt/comfort, angst AND MORE ! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED !!!

A/N: Picture belongs to the rightful owner !!! I just put the pic there, so you know that it is the second part of Father!Alastor x Son!Reader. Read at the end of the Oneshot my A/n !!!

Words: 7 946

Alastor was cooking Breakfast. He had to get to work today, but he didn’t want to leave M/n all alone for all the meal times today, so he wanted to share Breakfast with him at least. He will be back home very late. Later than usual.

As Alastor was finished cooking, he heard footsteps on the upper level of his house and his smile was happier than before. M/n was awake. Soon enough he came down the stairs and Alastor turned to his Son, who was seven years old soon.

It had been 8 months since he took the kid in and he will turn 7 in three weeks.

“Good Morning, M/n.”, Alastor greeted.

“Mornin’, Dad. Why are you still here ? Usually you are already at work.”, M/n said with concern.

“I stayed so we can eat Breakfast together. I will be coming home very late today.”, Alastor explained and sat down.

M/n sat down on the other chair and stared at his Father. He was nervous to ask, but he was so curious...

Alastor taught M/n to not ask him anything, while eating. After Breakfast he can ask. He also shall never speak with his mouth full. And he should always eat slowly and not devour his food, like someone will take it away from him if he takes his time. Still M/n found it fair to at least let him know, that he wanted to ask him something later.

“After Breakfast I have a question, Dad. Just so you know.”, M/n informed softly.

“As long as it will be quick, sure. I will have to hurry after Breakfast.”, Alastor replied gently.

M/n smiled and nodded at his Father, but Alastor could see how uneasy his adoptive Son was. It seemed serious and important, but he can’t call in sick again. At this rate he will get fired.

They both ate calmly their Breakfast, even though M/n had an urge to inhale his food. His Father said that he had to hurry, after Breakfast, to work and M/n always had anxiety when it revolved around time. It was because his Dad was barely home, so if he wanted anything, he had to tell him either in the morning or leave a note for Alastor to read, when he came back home.

When they finished and cleared the table, M/n quickly washing the dishes, while Alastor dressed up for work, the soon to be seven year old rushed to Alastor’s room and knocked.

“Come in.”, Alastor said from behind the door.

M/n opened it and entered. His Father looked at him, as he put on his suit coat. He saw that his Son was nervous and he seemed also to try and force himself to just spit it out. The adult gave M/n time.

“I was wondering...it doesn’t have to be today, if you don’t want that, Dad...but...I was wondering if...”

Then M/n mumbled and Alastor didn’t understand anything.

“You were wondering iiiiffff....?”, Alastor asked, stretching the word ‘if’ in suspense.

“...If you would take me with you to your work !”, M/n got out, nervously.

Alastor stared at his Son in surprise. He wanted to tag along with him ? Alastor chuckled.

“Why would you want to come along ? It will be boring for you.”, Alastor said amused.

“It can’t be more boring than staying coped up in this house without a soul in here. As soon as I am finished with my tasks, you give me, I don’t know what to do and get bored. I can’t play with anyone, I can’t talk with anyone. All I can do is sit around, read and wait until you are home or even go to bed. It’s boring. I hear you on the Radio from time to time, but it’s not the same as talking to you in person. You must get breaks, right ? Perfect time to at least talk with you for a bit. I can get my own stuff with me and do something, while you are on air. I’ve also been interested how your workplace looks.”

Alastor looked at M/n in deep thought at that. His Son had a point, it was dreadfully boring in here all alone and M/n was bad in making friends. It didn’t help that his Son is getting home schooled, because of the trauma he experienced as he had lost his older Sister, Linda L/n.

He looked at his clock and sighed, conflicted. He could understand M/n and he also had a few ideas to build him into his broadcasts, but he had to call his Boss first, to get approval...

‘To Hell with it. I’ll call and ask now...’, Alastor thought and got up.

He took his phone off the hook and called his Boss. He picked up immediately.

“Alastor Hazbin, where are you ? Call in sick again, for your Son ?”, the Boss asked annoyed.

“No, Sir. I am on my way. But I wanted to know if my Son can tag along. He seems very interested in my work.”, Alastor replied.

The Boss made an interested hum.

“If he really is interested, then sure. Bring him along.”, he replied.

“Okay. Thank you, Sir.”

“Sure thing. Now hurry up, you’ll be late.”

With that Alastor hung up and looked at M/n, who followed him.

“Get dressed and we can go. Next time you can pack a few things, today we have to speed it up a bit.”, he told his Son.

M/n grew a large smile, nodded and stormed off.

“Don’t run up and down the stairs ! You’ll fall, M/n !”, Alastor scolded as he saw his Son run up the stairs.

“Sorry, Papa !”, M/n replied, too excited.

Alastor sighed fondly.

‘This Kid will be my early death...’

-Time skip-

Soon enough they arrived at the Radio station, Alastor worked at. M/n looked around in awe, while he held his Father’s hand. A few people stared at them, as they walked by. No one ever saw Alastor with his Son before, so they all threw curious eyes to them.

M/n was a bit self conscious, but as long as his Papa was here, no one would hurt him. Alastor promised that he will do more next time someone dares to touch M/n without his own permission.

Soon enough they made it to Alastor’s office and as they entered the office, M/n was in awe. It was big and looked homey. He saw his Dad take off his coat and then held his hand out, for M/n’s. He quickly took his own coat off and gave it to his Dad, who hung the jacket up next to his own.

Then he pulled a chair next to his and sat M/n down. Alastor sat down next and looked at his watch, seeing that it was soon time for him to go on air. He read the newspaper and scrunched his face up in disgust. M/n noticed and got concerned.

“What is it, Dad ?”, he asked.

Alastor looked at M/n and his eyes softened, his strained smile, turning genuine again.

“Nothing to worry about, Son.”, he replied.

M/n gave him a look.

“Dad, I am soon seven, lived a Nightmare since I’ve been two years of age and you think that after such a reaction, I would believe that lie ? I am in here when you broadcast anyways. I can handle it. Now spill the tea.”, M/n said.

Alastor had yet to keep in his head, that, M/n might be soon seven, but he was mentally already way older, more mature. He lacked a few disciplines here and there, but that was expected as M/n had biological parents that didn’t raise him properly and correctly.

The adult sighed and gave in.

“A girl was found killed and sexually assaulted in some alleyway, Son.”

“The Cathedral alley again ?”, M/n asked.

Alastor skimmed through the article and found it.

“Yes. Again the same alley as your...Sister was found in.”

M/n nodded emptily.

“It’s the same disgusting people then. After all, they never got caught.”, M/n said in a monotone voice.

Then Alastor skimmed a bit further through and his eyes froze on the next article, with his latest victim. He killed the man he sued, after he hurt M/n. Taylor. He hated kids and hurt, scared, even almost killed them. That man had to go. Alastor killed him a week ago. The police took a very long while until they found him.

“Now that is interesting tea, right here.”, Alastor said out loud.

“What is, Dad ?”

Before he could answer, his Boss entered and looked at Alastor.

“Your turn, Alastor. Hello, little one. That your Son ?”, he asked the younger man.

“Yes, Sir. This is my Son. M/n, this is my Boss, Mr. Floyd. Mr. Floyd, this is my Son, M/n.”, he quickly introduced.

“Pleasure to meet you, Sir.”, M/n politely said.

The man smiled back.

“A pleasure to meet you too, little guy.”

M/n felt very uncomfortable. The man had a fuller figure than Alastor and was a bit bigger than him, his smile was bad, he had some rotten teeth and the way he ogled M/n, seemed anything but friendly. He seemed to devour him. He scared M/n, but he knew, as long as Alastor, his Dad, was with him, nothing bad will happen.

What none of the two noticed, was that Alastor also saw his Boss’ stare and he knew EXACTLY what it meant.

‘What a perverted, vile creature...’, Alastor scoffed in his mind.

His Boss was definitely on his death list now. No way will he let him live and risk his Son’s safety and most importantly...let that vile man ruin M/n’s innocence.

The man then left and Alastor counted down the seconds in his head. He had 20 seconds now.

“I don’t like him, Dad...”

“I know, Son. Don’t worry about him. Now shush.”, Alastor gently said.

He pressed a button and was on air. M/n saw and stayed silent.

“Well, Hello and a Good Morning, New Orleans ! It is your favorite Radio Host, Alastor Hazbin, on air ! Now let us begin like we always do. What news do we have today to deliver, what music will we play today and what questions and phone calls will we get today ?! Stay tuned for it all ! Ohohohoh !”, Alastor happily and cheerily spoke into his microphone.

M/n smiled as he saw his Father act like that. He rarely saw that side of him and he could see why. Alastor did seem very happy and comfortable as he played the Radio Host, but even then, he also could see that it was a bit pretended. He assumed because of the news.

With that he started to cheerily tell them about the news he read in the newspapers. That a girl was found killed and sexually assaulted in the Cathedral alleyway, reminded them that it wasn’t the first time and pulled some lame jokes to lift the mood up, then he started to talk about something else and it caught M/n’s attention quickly.

“But before we move onto sport, another murder occurred ! The name of the victim was Taylor Urano ! He was found dead, with his organs in his hands, near the Canal street, apparently he was rotting there for a week or so ! Sounds like the Bayou Killer is still on the loose ! And we all thought they finally died or got caught ! Oh, how wrong we have been !”, Alastor informed.

M/n looked at his Dad, knowing that Taylor Urano was the fucker that hurt him a few months ago. Alastor side eyed his Son, with his smile, then he went over to sports and what was new there. After he spread the news, he started to announce what will be played, requested by people from last time, and then he was off air, playing the hits.

As the microphone was off, Alastor turned to his Son fully, waiting for him to speak.

“So...Taylor Urano is dead...”, M/n muttered only for his Father to hear.

“Yes, indeedy !”

M/n nodded and took a deep breath.

“Are you upset ?”, Alastor asked him gently.

M/n shook his head.

“No, why would I ? He deserved it. I wasn’t the only one he hurt and traumatized. Whoever killed him, I pat them on the back and say thank you. Not that I can do that, but I would.”

Alastor felt proud and relieved that his adoptive Son supported it and even appreciated the gesture. But he can never tell his own Son that he was the Bayou Killer. He would scare him off and Alastor didn’t have the heart to kill him, but he also didn’t want to go to jail and get sentenced to death.

“We have Lunch break for now. What do you want to eat ? We can go out and get something.”, Alastor suggested.

“Anything is alright, Dad. If we would do what I want to eat, you would be forced to go back home and cook.”, M/n giggled out.

“Why is that, hmm ?”, Alastor asked with his smile genuine, head crooked to his left side.

“Because I love your Jambalaya. And only YOU can cook it, Dad.”

Alastor laughed at that heartily. He did get M/n addicted to his Mother’s Jambalaya and Gumbo. At first the boy was hesitant to eat it, but one spoon full in his mouth and he was in love with it. Who would have thought ?

“Maybe I will make us some Jambalaya this Sunday. How does that sound, Cher ?”, Alastor suggested.

“Yes ! Can I help washing and cutting the vegetables ?”, M/n asked in excitement.

“As long as you don’t cut yourself, you can.”

“Yay !”

Alastor chuckled, got up, went to the door and took his own coat, with M/n’s, off of the hook. Then he pulled his on and helped M/n into his. Together they left the Studio, informing his Boss.

“How long do we have ?”, M/n asked.

“We have only 30 minutes. Enough time to get to a restaurant, order and take it back with us to the Radio Station. Then I will be back on air.”, his Father answered.

“Okay. Lead the way, Dad. Where do we get our Lunch ?”

Alastor looked at M/n and chuckled, then led him to a restaurant, his Mother showed him once. They were very rarely there, but the food was still good.

After they arrived there, Alastor was about to enter, as M/n tightly held Alastor’s pant leg, stopping him from entering. He looked at the six year old. He stared at something through the window, eyes wide with fear. Alastor grew concerned.

“What’s wrong, Cher ?”, the adult asked the frightened kid.

“Can we go get food somewhere else, Papa ? Please ?”, M/n said with a shaky voice.

Alastor lost his smile entirely. What scared M/n so bad that he wanted to leave ?

“What do you see, that scares you so much, Cher ? Tell me.”

M/n shook his head, not taking his eyes off of whatever he was looking at.

“I wanna leave...Please...”, M/n begged, shakily.

Alastor could see that M/n started to sweat, his face awfully pale and he was shaking. Something was very wrong. He went behind his Son and knelt down, searching with his own eyes, what M/n was so focused on.

His eyes landed on a man and a woman, sitting on a table, enjoying some food. Why was M/n so scared of these two ?

“Who are they, M/n ? Why are you scared of them ?”, Alastor asked gently, rubbing the boy’s shoulders.

M/n’s eyes filled with tears and they rolled down his face. His happiness and cheerfulness completely gone and his big smile was now a frown.

“They are Fred and Gorgia....L/n.”

Alastor’s eyes widened.

“Siblings ?”, he asked, with a sliver of hope.

“N-no. They are...they were my parents.”, M/n got out with a hiccup.

Alastor scrutinized the two of them that harmed M/n so much and then left him for dead. Now he knew why M/n was so scared of them. He smiled as he got an idea. New Orleans was cold today and M/n’s coat had a hood. He pulled the hood over M/n.

His Son gasped and turned around, looking at Alastor, who gave him a soft, warm smile.

“Keep the hood on, we will sit in the back of the restaurant and order something to take to the Station. They won’t recognize you and they won’t see you. Do you trust me ?”, Alastor asked as he wiped the boy’s tears away.

M/n nodded softly and gave Alastor a big hug, which he returned. He hated to be touched, but his Son needed this. His Son is the only exception that can touch him, whenever he wants.

After they parted, they entered the restaurant. An older Lady from the counter waved at Alastor, with a big smile. Alastor waved back and pointed to a table in the far back. She nodded and he led his Son back to the table. Not long later, the older Lady came over and gave them both a menu.

“Your child, Al ?”, she asked gently.

“Yes, that is my Son. M/n Hazbin, Lydia. How have you been ?”

“I have been fine. You ?”

“Just dandy. Go ahead and look into the menu, Cher.”, Alastor told his Son.

M/n opened the card and looked through.

“Again, to go ?”, Lydia asked softly.

“Yes. I have only 20 minutes left, then I have to be back at the Station.”

“Ah, alright. I will tell the Chefs.”

“Thank you dearly, Sweetheart.”

“No problem, Alastor.”

Then she left. Alastor knew that she will be back in a bit, so he had to quickly chose. He looked at M/n, who looked up and at his former parents from time to time. He was very scared that they will recognize him.

“What do you want to take, hmm ?”, Alastor asked M/n.

“I am not sure. Something with Shrimp...”, M/n answered.

Alastor hummed in reply.

“How about a po – boy then ?”, Alastor suggested.

M/n looked at Alastor in confusion and curiosity.

“What is a po – boy ?”

“It is also called ‘Poor boy’. It is a sandwich. Fried shrimps, salad, some sauce and bread. The bread is a baguette and it is a big one. Tastes divine too, if you want to know my opinion.”, he explained.

M/n looked at his Dad very interested. He looked back at the menu and then looked at the price. He frowned.

“I don’t think I can take it...”

“Why not, Cher ?”

“Dad...this is 8 Dollars...that is a bit much, don’t you think ?”

“That is nothing, Cher. Go on. Order it. But don’t forget to say that you want it with Shrimp. Otherwise you will have beef in it.”

M/n looked at him, hesitantly.

“O....Okay...”

Then Lydia came back and looked at them.

“Have you decided ?”

“I am taking the usual, please.”, Alastor replied and gently closed the menu.

M/n nervously swallowed and looked at the older woman, before he gathered all his courage and answered.

“I would like po – boy, but with Shrimp, instead of beef, please.”

She gave him a gentle smile and nodded, writing it down.

“Your Son is doing pretty well. What a big boy.”, she told Alastor.

He smiled brightly and looked at his Son with pride, then back at her.

“I know. Isn’t he a brave, big guy ? I am proud. That was his first time ordering food. And he was so polite too. Hahahaha !”, Alastor replied.

Lydia gave him a soft smile and chuckled.

“Even better. His first time and he was so brave and polite. Congrats, for raising him so well, Alastor, Cher.”

“Thank you, Lydia. It means a lot, coming from you.”

She smiled brighter and then left, to give the Chefs the order. M/n looked at his Dad.

“You really are proud of me ?”, he asked softly.

Alastor looked at M/n.

“Of course I am ! It was your first time and you made it. Good job, Kiddo !”, he praised his Son.

M/n smiled brightly and hugged his Father’s left arm, tightly.

“Thank you, Dad. It means a lot, coming from you.”

Alastor was very happy that M/n appreciated him and didn’t take him and his gestures for granted. He was truly happy to have a Son like him, even if he just adopted him and this was just a coincidence. This was something Alastor didn’t regret.

“Hey, Son ?”

“Yeah ?”

“What would you say, if I offered to include you into my broadcasts, hmm ?”

M/n pulled away and took a proper look at his Dad.

“Are you serious ?”, he asked his Dad.

“Sure am !”

“I would love that.”, M/n replied with a big smile.

Alastor chortled.

“Then we will start today, after we got back to the Station.”

“Okay !”, M/n chirped, happily.

-Time skip-

They returned to the Station with their meals, just in time. They took their coats off, Alastor hung them up again and they sat back down on their chairs. He looked at his Son with a big, honest smile.

“So, wanna hear what I have planned ?”, he asked his Son.

“Sure ! What is it, Dad ?”

“I will announce that I have a special guest with me. You will greet them, obviously. And then we will start with the phone calls. Usually they make requests or even ask questions. The ones that are directed at you, you can answer. Questions that make you uncomfortable, you will just say that you won’t or can’t answer that. Okay ?”

M/n eagerly nodded. Alastor gave him a headset and his own microphone. M/n carefully put it on and then looked at his microphone. He was bouncing up and down, nervous. Alastor explained how the microphone worked and what he needed to do to turn it on and off. M/n nodded along with everything.

“Oh, and try to sound cheery. Yes, Cher ?”, Alastor asked.

“I’ll try. I am very nervous, Dad.”, M/n admitted.

“It’ll be okay.”, his Dad assured him.

“What about my last name ? Shall I reveal it ?”

“Do what you wish to do.”

The Boss entered again.

“Hazbin, you are going on air in 10 seconds from now.”, he said and left.

Alastor counted the seconds down, gave M/n a giant smile and then went on air.

“Hello civilians from New Orleans ! I hope you liked the hits that were played until now, hahahaha !”, Alastor cheerily spoke into the microphone.

“Now, before we begin with the phone calls again, I have to inform you, that I have a special guest here, with me, today ! Do you want to say ‘Hello’ ?”, Alastor asked M/n.

He turned on the microphone and put on his best act, still nervous as hell, but he didn’t want to let his Dad down.

“Hello there, New Orleans ! My name is M/n Hazbin ! A pleasure to be here !”, M/n said into his microphone.

Alastor gave his Son a proud smile.

“Ohohohoh ! Isn’t he charming, Ladies and Gentlemen ?!”, Alastor spoke into his mic happily.

M/n blushed slightly at the praise, but was happy that his Dad supported him so much. Alastor put an arm around his Son’s shoulders and then continued with his broadcast.

“You know what that means, my dear viewers ! You can ask us both questions, make requests for hits to be played later and you can talk about your day with us ! Now...let the calls come in ! Oh, and please be nice to M/n, he is a shy one.”, Alastor chuckled into the mic, playing a laughing track.

M/n pouted at his Father and even pinched him in the side. Alastor yelped in surprise and stared at his Son in shock, who gave the adult just a smirk and then giggled.

“Oh my...He pinched me in my side ! I might have been wrong ! He is anything BUT shy !”, Alastor said with dramatics into the microphone.

M/n laughed at that and wiped a stray tear from his face.

“You deserved it, be honest.”, M/n teased.

“Hmmm....Maybe I did.”, he replied in his own microphone.

They both smiled brightly, having so much fun already. Alastor thought his Son will be bored, but he seemed to glow even brighter, being here, than he ever did at home.

Then the first phone call came through and Alastor picked it up.

“Hello there ! What may your name be and what do you want to talk about ?”, Alastor asked happily.

“Hello, Mr. Hazbin. My name is Angie Kolb. I have a question for you and one for M/n.”

“Alastor, is just fine, Dear ! Ask away !”

“Okay. M/n...”

“Yes, Miss Angie ?”, M/n replied, kindly.

“Are you Alastor’s younger Brother or what is your relation with him ? I am very curious.”

M/n smiled brightly and chuckled.

“Oh no, I am not his Brother. Alastor is my Dad !”, M/n happily answered.

“Oh, wow ! I hope to hear you more often in his broadcasts then !”, she chirped happily.

“You might. It depends on our agreements and schedules.”, M/n replied kindly.

“Hopefully it won’t be too busy for you then ! Now my last question, Alastor..”

“Yes, Sweetheart ?”, Alastor replied.

“Can you play ‘Farewell Blues’ one day ? It is my favorite.”

Alastor hummed in thought.

“I can do that ! Maybe I will play it tomorrow, I need to find the record first. Hahaha !”

“Thank you. Have a good day you two !”

“You too, Miss.”

“You too, Dear.”

With that it was hung up.

“Well, wasn’t she a charming Belle ?”, he asked with a chuckle.

“She was very nice, yes.”, M/n agreed with his Dad.

Alastor took a sip of his Coffee and M/n took a sip of his water. The next call came through and Alastor picked it up.

“Hello, there ! May we know your name ?”, Alastor asked kindly.

“Hello, Alastor. I think you remember me from last time. My name is Will Otis.”

“Ah, I do remember you ! How is your wife, Mr. Otis ?”, Alastor asked happily.

“She is alright.”

“The child ?”

“Soon on the way ! Just one more month. I can’t wait to meet my child !”, the man replied excitedly.

“That is good to hear, my good man !”

“I have three questions. Two for your Son and one for you.”

“Ask away !”

“Thank you. So, M/n...”

“Yes, Sir ?”, M/n asked, kindly.

Alastor saw his Son’s smile. He liked this. It made Alastor proud.

“How old are you by now ?”, the man asked.

“Oh, I am still six years old, but I will soon be seven !”, he answered happily.

“Do you go to school ?”

“No. I am getting home schooled. It was permitted.”, M/n replied, still acting happy.

He wasn’t a fan of talking about his past. Not a lot, but that was still okay.

“What a shame... I am a teacher there, now it makes sense that I never heard of you. I hope you are getting educated well, not that I doubt your Dad. Now, Alastor...”

“Yes, Mr. Otis ?”

“Who was the lucky woman ?”, he asked.

Alastor lost his smile almost and coughed.

“Ah...there was no lucky woman, I am afraid !”, Alastor answered.

Before the man could ask anything else, M/n quickly cleared it up, before this was misunderstood.

“He adopted me, Sir. But we have a strong bond already. He is like the Father I never had. I am happy and I don’t need a Mom !”, M/n said happily.

“Ah, I see. I am happy for you, that you two found each other, then.”, the man replied happily.

“I am too.”, M/n replied with a softer, happy voice.

He looked at Alastor with a grateful smile and he smiled back at him, pulled him closer and into his side.

“We both are happy about this. Any more questions ?”, Alastor asked.

“No, that was all. It is nice to know that you have a Son now.”

Alastor chuckled.

“Thank you and thank you for your call ! Maybe I will hear from you again when you got new updates, yes ?”

“Definitely, Alastor ! Count on that !”

“Have a nice day and until next time !”

“Until next time you two !”

Then the call was ended. M/n took another sip as another phone call came in. Alastor did the same greeting, but this time both of them were left stunned. The person’s name was Siri Horn.

“M/n, is Alastor abusing you ?”

M/n spat his water out, which the microphone caught, then he coughed.

“What ? I think I have misheard.”, M/n asked shocked.

Alastor stared at his Son, shaking his head. He heard the question too.

“I asked if Alastor was abusing you.”, she repeated.

“I have no idea why you would think that, Miss, but no. My Dad is NOT abusing me. He is very sweet, caring and considerate. Since he adopted me, he was nothing but supportive to me.”

“Did he kidnap you, or how did you meet ?”

M/n grew very uncomfortable.

“Why are you asking such questions ?”, M/n asked.

“I want to make sure he isn’t hurting you.”

“Why would he ?”

“There are rumors, that he did hurt his own Mother, before. Also, his Father was known to be abusive.”, she answered.

M/n looked at his Dad in worry. Alastor’s smile was very fake right now and his knuckles were white, balled into tight fists. M/n felt very uncomfortable, but he felt the need to protect his Dad and back him up. He did that for him too after all. He owes him.

“Rest assured, Miss, that he would never hurt me, nor kidnap me. How we met is very personal, but I will make an exception for you, to explain how we met. Deal ?”

“It is a deal. Now start, kid.”

“My biological parents hated me and abandoned me in the middle of nowhere, in New Orleans. It was the start of cold winter days and I wasn’t properly dressed, not that my parents ever gave me proper clothes. I asked around for help, but no one helped me. I wandered around and went into the woods, following a cute fawn to their Mother. It was snowing so I couldn’t find my way back, I was too deep in the woods and freezing terribly. I heard footsteps and hid, when I looked, I saw Alastor. I had no other choice, but ask him for help. I was lost, cold and hungry. My voice was weak, but I got his attention, but because I was for hours in the cold, my limbs gave out and I couldn’t move. He brought me to his home, warmed me up and took care of me. We talked and he offered to raise me until I am old enough, then he made the adoption with me official by authorities. He has the certificates and everything. It is all legal, Miss. If he wouldn’t have been...I might be dead today.”, M/n explained, voice a bit sad, yet still grateful.

The other line was silent for a bit. Then...

“Why did they hate you ?”

“I don’t fully know. I had a Sister, but she died a young age. They blamed me a lot for it, even though I had nothing to do with it. They never paid attention to her and how much problems she had, yet...they pretended like they cared about her. I guess I was the unwanted kid, but even then...they could have given me to an orphanage, but they refused to do so.”

“I am so sorry, M/n. And I am sorry that I accused you of abuse, Alastor.”

“It’s fine ! At least someone else cares about a child’s well being !”, Alastor said happily and rubbed his Son’s back.

“Hug...”, M/n muttered.

Alastor lifted M/n up and sat him into his own lap, hugging him close, while M/n hugged his Dad tightly.

“I wish you two the best and take care of each other, yeah ?”

“We will, Miss Horn ! Have a lovely day and there is no bad blood between us !”, Alastor said happily.

Then he hung up and comforted M/n.

“Such personal things will not be answered next time, Ladies and Gentlemen !”, Alastor said into his microphone.

Alastor looked at his watch and saw that he could go off air now and play more hits.

“Well then ! Time to play some more classic-!”, he got interrupted by another call.

He looked at M/n, who seemed better and sat down in his chair again.

“Fine...one last call...”, Alastor gave in gently.

He picked up the phone. He wished he didn’t...for M/n’s sake.

“Hello there ! What are your names ?”, he asked happily.

“M/n ! You little brat ! Just wait until we get our hands on you, you mistake !”, a male yelled though.

M/n’s eyes widened, his breathing grew faster and shaky, his face was pale and he looked ready to hide away. Alastor’s smile dropped instantly. He looked at him concerned.

“Who are you ?”, Alastor asked again, voice a bit hostile.

“I’ll make you wish you were never born ! You hear me, you piece of shit ?! When I am done with you, YOU WILL WISH YOU DIED THAT COLD WINTER DAY !”, the man yelled.

“Can’t believe that you failure are still alive ! What a disappointment ! After what you did to your own Sister !”, a female yelled through.

M/n shook, sobbing, but he pulled himself together. He has his Dad next to him, they aren’t here. He has to be brave. He grabbed the Microphone and pulled himself together.

“HOW DARE YOU SPEW SUCH LIES ABOUT US ?! WE GAVE YOU EVERYTHING !”, the female yelled angered.

“FUCK YOU ! BOTH OF YOU, YOU HEAR ME ?! YOU DIDN’T DO ANYTHING FOR ME ! YOU NEVER GAVE ME ANYTHING ! NOR DID YOU DO THAT FOR LINDA ! WE ALWAYS HAD TO STEAL CLOTHES, BECAUSE YOU DIDN’T BOTHER TO GIVE US ANY ! WE HAD TO SEE WHERE WE GET FOOD FROM, BECAUSE YOU DIDN’T BOTHER TO GO SHOPPING FOR ANY ! YOU NEVER CARED ABOUT ALL THE BRUISES, MY SISTER HAD ! YOU NEVER GAVE A FLYING FUCK ABOUT US ! SO DON’T PRETEND LIKE YOU DID EVER DO ANYTHING ! YOU, FRED L/N, ARE A FUCKING DRUNK AND YOU LOVED TO BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF ME, NO MATTER WHAT ! AND YOU, GORGIA L/N, YOU ARE A CONSUMER OF DRUGS AND A DAMN PROSTITUDE ! AS LONG AS YOU GOT A MAN INSIDE YOU, YOU DIDN’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT US ! I WAS ALWAYS YOUR PUNCHING BAG AND AS I DIDN’T REACT TO YOUR ABUSE ANYMORE, YOU THREW ME OUT AND CALLED ME USELESS AND A WASTE OF SPACE ! I HOPE, BEFORE THE BAYOU KILLER GETS CAUGHT, THAT YOU ARE THE NEXT ONES, THAT WILL DIE BY HIS HANDS !!!”

At first M/n’s voice was shaky and scared, but the more he talked and remembered, the more angered he got.

“HOW DARE YOU, YOU LITTLE PATHETIC WASTE OF SPACE ?!”, the man hollered.

“I HAVE BEEN SILENT FOR LONG ENOUGH, FRED ! I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU WILL DO TO ME, IF YOU EVER GET YOUR HANDS ON ME ! AT LEAST NOW EVERYONE KNOWS YOUR TRUE COLORS ! PEOPLE LIKE YOU, DESERVE TO DIE ! JUST GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY LIFE !”

“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO YOUR PARENTS LIKE THAT ?!”, Gorgia screeched.

“You are no more my parents ! You taught me every bad word in the book, threw it at me, cussed me out ! Now I am doing the same to you ! Karma is a bitch, isn’t it ?!”

“I WILL KILL YOU AND YOUR SO CALLED NEW FATHER ! JUST YOU WAIT !”, Fred hollered, pissed off.

“You try to touch my new and WAY BETTER FATHER, I will KILL YOU MYSELF, YOU PATHETIC EXCUSE OF A FATHER ! STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY FAMILY AND GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY DAMN LIFE !!!”, M/n screamed in rage, feeling protective of Alastor.

Alastor was in shock at how vocal M/n’s parents were to their soon to be seven year old and how vocal M/n was to them back. He never heard any curse words leave M/n, this was the very first time.

“YOU ENJOYED THE STUPID RADIO HOST’S COMPANY WAY TOO MUCH, YOU DISGUSTING PIECE OF FILTH !”

“And you two enjoyed the company of alcohol, multiple women’s cunts around your dick, drugs, multiple dicks in your cunt and beating your own children way too much ! So I guess we are fucking even ! Bye Hoe and bye Bastard !”, M/n yelled and hung up.

Then he spoke into the microphone again.

“And before I forget, Fred and Gorgia L/n, my adoptive Father is not stupid. He is very smart, so watch your disgusting mouths and wash them out with fucking soap. Maybe choke on it in the process.”, he growled out.

Then he got up and left his seat, sitting down on the floor in the corner of the office. He just sat there and let off his adrenaline and steam.

“Well then, this was a wild call and an entirely new side of M/n, I didn’t know of ! Everyone, that were M/n’s former parents ! Weren’t they just lovely people ? Now I will play you some hits and we will talk later again ! Enjoy !”

With that Alastor played the songs, turned off his own microphone and then went off air. He sat down on the ground, next to his Son. Forgetting that M/n’s mic was still on, so the listeners still heard them from the music.

“Are you alright ?”, Alastor asked in concern.

“I don’t know. Right now I feel nothing.”, M/n replied with an empty voice.

Alastor frowned and pulled M/n into a hug. M/n returned it.

“I’m sorry. I think I ruined your broadcast today.”, M/n apologized.

“No one could have known they would call.”, Alastor replied gently, “No need to apologize.”

“Am I getting grounded ?”

“Why would I ground you ?”, Alastor asked confused.

“I cursed...in open air...everyone heard it.”

Alastor scoffed.

“Your biological...birth givers are to blame. They were very impolite and they instantly insulted and threatened you. You defended yourself and let everything out against them, that you were forced to bottle up, for years. But I have to admit...that side of you surprised me. I never heard you that vocal before.”

“I hate cursing and name calling people. It reminds me a lot about how they treated me and my Sister. So I usually suppress it. But today...they made me angry.”

“I thought you would run and hide. What made you fight back ?”

“I have you, don’t I ? We are in an office and there are a lot of people who could throw them out easily again, so I had a sense of security. Then they tried to pin the blame on me again about Linda, even though it wasn’t my fault. How is it my fault that they are more interested in themselves and never paid attention to us, that bad people live on this world, who love to hurt, traumatize and kill others ? Am I the adult or are they ? Am I supposed to play the parent or are they ? They tried to shame me again, like they always did and...it made me angry. The more I said, the more I was reminded of what they made me and Linda go through. I got just more pissed when they threatened to come for you.”, M/n confessed.

“Did you mean it, that you hope the Bayou Killer will kill them next ?”

“Of course I did. I would even support him or her in torturing them to death. For everything they made me and my Sister go through...I wish them nothing good. They can rot in hell for all I care.”, M/n scoffed out.

“You didn’t tell me everything about them, did you ?”, Alastor asked M/n gently.

“Of course not. All the shit they did...is not light.”

“I am ready to listen. We have 30 minutes to waste. We can eat our meal too.”

“When I tell you everything, you won’t want to eat. It will come back up, Dad.”, M/n said dryly.

“Well then, start spilling the tea.”

M/n looked at him and sighed, then nodded.

“Well, where do I start...?”

“At the beginning.”, Alastor joked.

M/n giggled. He then had a sad smile on his face.

“My big Sister raised me. She fed me with Baby formula from a bottle, because Mother didn’t want to feed me. She was supposed to keep me silent, whenever I started to get fuzzy or cry, Gorgia and Fred hurt Linda, because she let it happen that I made noise. She took care of me, changed my diapers, fed me, washed me, played with me, helped me sleep and she stayed with me through everything. She was the best Sister ever.”

Alastor was shocked to hear that.

“How much older was your Sister ?”

“Linda was 12 when she was killed and I barely turned five. She was seven when she was supposed to take care of me. She went to school and she was always busy, but our so called parents didn’t care. She took me to school with her, to care for me and protect me from them. She had a lot of homework and sometimes she got in trouble, because she couldn’t finish them, because of me. She always said that I was worth the trouble. She taught me how to talk and to walk, how to be polite and where to hide if our parents lost it again. She taught me reading when I was three years old and writing with four. She loved teaching me and preparing me for my school times.”

Alastor continued to listen. He already had a burning hatred for M/n’s parents and he felt very saddened that such a good soul was assaulted, used and then killed.

“I always left home, knowing the way to her school and home like the back of my hand, and always walked her there and back home. That was when I saw her...bruises, the abuse from other kids, how teachers eyed her like some meat...she always came out of school with a new bruise. I bandaged her up mostly, then our own parents, shitfaced mostly, got back home and hurt us too. They usually let it all out on Linda, until I got sick of it and always made them focus on me, instead of her. She was hurt enough, so I used their words against them and made them pissed with me. It was the only way to protect her from further harm.”

M/n took shaky breaths. He refused to cry. Alastor could see the pain in M/n’s eyes. He had a wobbly smile on his face and looked at his Dad, eyes showing pain and utter sorrow.

“Heh, you know...we planned to run away, to live in the woods, where we found each other. You would have loved her, she was always eager to help and she was never scared to do anything. We planned to run away and the day was...it would have been the next day...if she wouldn’t have been kidnapped the day before... We had our few things packed already, we just needed to wait until night time and then climb out the window, then run. She promised to care for the both of us, teach me everything she knew and that we will support each other.”

Alastor was shocked. They planned that and all their plans were spoiled as Linda was taken.

“I was nervous and excited to get away. No more pain and we would have been free, Papa... I saw them snatch her away and I tried to run after the car, but they were too fast. I saw Linda struggling around and screaming in the car... They did it to her while driving already... I couldn’t save her, I reported her kidnapping and they started to search her. I waited, hoping she will be found alive and we will run away still, but...I found her dead in that damn alley instead. My world fell apart.”

M/n’s eyes were filled with grief and Alastor had no idea what to say or do.

“I considered running away alone, but where would I go ? I had nowhere to run to, my Sister knew more than I did. I was lost without her, so...I was forced to stay behind. The abuse was bad before already. Sometimes we had a broken arm, sprained limbs, almost black bruises, concussions...but it got worse when Linda was gone.”

How much worse could it have gotten ? This was already hell.

“Fred threw glass bottles at me, always aimed at my head and crotch. When they shattered on me, a lot of glass was sticking in my skin. He bashed my head into the walls of the house until I bled and was passing out, they burned my arms with boiling water and forced me to clean the whole house. If I wasn’t done cleaning the whole house or even forgot a speck of dirt to clean up, before they got home again, I was getting beaten. Then they bought a collar, doghouse and leash. They started to put that on me a lot and then tied me to the way too small doghouse. They made me sleep in the cold, wet dirt a lot. Gorgia always put her cigarettes out on my skin and if I made even one noise, she cut me with a kitchen knife. Fred sometimes even whipped me with his belt, just for fun.”

Alastor stared at M/n in horror. What parents...

“I’m glad I got away and met you, Papa. Finally my hell is over.”, M/n finished and hugged him tightly.

Tears were running down his face, but he didn’t sob. It was silent crying. He was grateful Alastor found him and adopted him. Alastor hugged him back and tightened his hold on his Son.

“I promise you, M/n...I won’t let anything happen to you ever again. I will protect you. They will NEVER come near you again.”, Alastor swore.

M/n tightened his hold on his Dad.

“Thank you, Papa.”

Alastor had two people that had to die instantly. Seems like, the Bayou Killer will attack again, way sooner, than he planned...

Way later, as they started their broadcast again, did they notice that M/n’s mic was still on. They both stared at each other.

“I have a feeling I will get a lot of questions now...”, M/n said gently.

“Only answer what you feel comfortable with, Son.”, Alastor reminded him.

He nodded and they continued the broadcast.

A/N: I am unsure if I should make a second part, where Alastor makes M/n's parents suffer....and ends his Boss for being a pig. What do you think ? Btw...anyone wants to be tagged for this, just PM me.

Masterlist HERE !

[jflemingology]

Remind me I'm yours | Jessie Fleming x Reader

In which: Jessie gets jealous and needs a reminder that you're still hers

Warnings: feelings of jealousy and insecurity, bit suggestive near the end

WC: 2.3K

A/N: Based on a request I got on my previous account. I didn't know if you wanted the insecure jealous or moody jealous, but I did my best! Hope you enjoy it :D

Divider: @cafekitsune

"Hands off, Fleming. Keep it in your pants!", you pushed Jessie's hands away which had started to wander into dangerous territory. You eagerly leaned into her kiss initially, but when her hands started to roam from the small of your back across your bum, you knew you wouldn't be out the door anytime soon if you had let her continue her ministrations.

After spending way too much time on your hair and makeup, you were finally applying the finishing touches of your look you put together for your cousin's birthday party. Simon was turning 30 today, a special occasion which called for something more than dinner and drinks.

You were wearing your (and Jessie's) favorite long black dress, paired with a set of black high heels. You kept your makeup simple but visible, and swapped your usual flower earrings, the ones that your girlfriend got you for your 6-month anniversary, for a pair of golden hoops.

Jessie made sure you knew how she felt about your look, being extra appreciative of the way the dress accentuated all your curves and bumps.

She pulled away from the kiss and wrapped her arms around your midsection when you turned back to the mirror, having to reapply some lipstick after your short heated moment with your girlfriend.

"You look beautiful, baby," Jessie pressed a kiss against your exposed shoulder. You leaned your head back against hers and reveled in the warmth of her embrace. You pressed a soft, loving kiss against her cheek and mumbled a quick thank you before wiggling yourself out of her grip and moving past her out of the bathroom.

"Let's get going. We don't want to be fashionably late again."

You and Jessie had a reputation of being late anywhere you had to be. Your lack of sense of time, paired with Jessie's lack of self control whenever you were wearing something she liked, turned out to be a disastrous combination in the past. Late to parties, late to game nights with the team, late to family dinners – all of which had led to relentless teasing whenever people found out the reason why you two were late so often.

You waited by the door as Jessie pulled on her shoes, throwing her the car keys that were on the counter of the kitchen before making your way out of your apartment and to the parking garage.

In the car, Jessie's hand took its usual spot on your thigh as you played with her fingers. You hummed along to some songs on the radio, made comments about the traffic or the weather but the drive was mostly quiet, in a comfortable way.

You arrived at the venue almost right on time, both of you proud of your time management. Having to navigate Portland traffic you were afraid you'd not make it in time, but you did. The both of you went around and greeted everyone at the party, catching up with family and (old) friends before settling down at a table with some other invitees.

A couple hours passed and you and Jessie were having fun together. You shared a couple drinks, your girlfriend being mindful of her alcohol intake as she had to drive you both back home later that night. She had just returned to your table from the bar with a drink you requested, when she noticed your chair was empty. She assumed you had gone to the toilet, so she put your drink down on the table and sat down again, talking to the other people you two had been conversing with all night.

When 15 minutes passed and you still hadn't returned, Jessie knew you weren't just gone to the toilet. She shuffled on her seat and subtly tried to look behind her back, scanning the room to see whether she could find you. After a couple of seconds, her eyes locked onto you. You had your back turned to her but she could tell you were in conversation with someone, clearly having fun as she heard the faint sound of your laugh ringing through the room.

Jessie wasn't someone to get jealous quickly. She knew you were happy and well satisfied, you making sure to remind her of that on many occasions. Most of the time, if feelings of jealousy surfaced she did pretty well to subdue them. Jessie was very levelheaded and did a good job at reminding herself of how happy you were with her and of all the times that you reassured her that you wouldn't want anyone else. But if there was anything specific that triggered Jessie's jealousy, it was physical touch. She didn't mind when people hugged you, kissed your cheek, placed a hand on your arm – she did when she thought they were being excessive.

Jessie tried her best not to stare, but they made it hard. She couldn't see the face of the person you were talking to, but she did notice how they kept placing their hand on your arm. After a while she got pulled out of her trance when someone snapped their fingers in front of her, which caused her to blink a few times and look up at the source of the disturbance. When she noticed it was your mum who had come over, Jessie tried her best to plaster an earnest smile on her face and got up to give her a hug. The both of them got lost in conversation and Jessie forgot about her worries for a little while, until after another good 15 minutes you made your way back to the table.

"Hi baby, I'm sorry. I came across my best friend from primary school," you pressed a kiss against her crown as you went to sit down next to her again, taking her hand in yours. "Thank you for the drink." You were met with nothing but a tight-lipped smile and silence in response to what you said, but you soon got pulled back into conversation before you could ask what was up. Jessie felt a bit stupid now that she knew it was just your childhood best friend, but she couldn't shake the feelings of jealousy that had nestled underneath her skin.

The night ambled along and before you knew it the clock was nearly hitting 12. You nudged Jessie's arm and silently let her know that your social battery was running out. She took it upon herself to excuse the both of you, saying your goodbyes before walking back to the car.

The car ride back home was quiet once again, but it didn't feel as comfortable as the ride earlier this afternoon. The silence felt heavier, accentuated by the fact that Jessie's hand didn't take place in its usual spot on your thigh – both of her hands were now gripping the steering wheel tightly.

You tried a couple times to engage into light conversation, making comments about things that happened at a party, but you couldn't get Jessie to participate much more than a hum or a forced chuckle. You decided to let it go for now, not feeling like you would make any progress to find out what was going on inside her head for now.

Jessie parked the car in its usual spot and got out wordlessly, making her way over to your shared apartment. She took off her jacket and hung it on the coat rack, leaving the car keys in their designated spot on the kitchen counter. She pulled you out of your haze by pressing a chaste kiss against the side of your head while you were taking off your heels, before making her way to the bedroom. The quick showing of intimacy took you off guard, and ushered you to get unready quickly.

By the time you entered the bedroom, your Canadian had already climbed under the covers. You quickly undid yourself of your makeup and did a shortened skin care routine, before joining her and immediately turning towards her so you were face to face. You tucked a piece of hair behind her ear before you spoke.

"Anything on your mind? You've been awfully quiet," she visibly gulped upon hearing your words, shaking her head a little too enthusiastically. You frowned and lowered your hand until you cupped her cheek, rubbing your thumb along the soft skin. "Are you sure?"

You didn't like to pry, but you also knew that Jessie needed a push more often than not to talk about her feelings. She sighed and you could see she was internally debating her options. She rolled back onto her back and stared up at the ceiling, your hand dropping to her chest, to which you cuddled a little closer and put your head on her chest too.

"It's stupid, really. I know it's stupid," a frown etched onto your face, not knowing in the slightest what she could be on about. You didn't reply, leaving her the space to speak further if she wanted to; which she did. "Please don't laugh at me?"

Your frown deepened upon hearing what she said, confusion very present. "I wouldn't, not when I know something is bothering you. You know that," you accentuated your words with a kiss against her exposed chest.

You felt her chest rising and falling, courtesy of her taking a deep breath before she spoke up. "I got a little in my head earlier, when I saw you talking to your friend. They were being quite handsy and you know how I get when that happens," you hummed when she got silent, encouraging her to say more.

"I felt really stupid about it when you came back to the table and told me she was your childhood best friend, so I just went quiet. I felt embarrassed but couldn't shake the jealousy and I didn't really know what to do with myself. I'm sorry if I ruined your night."

You chuckled lightly, pushing yourself off of her chest and leaning your weight on your forearm that was positioned on the mattress. "Ruined my night?", you questioned as you cocked your head. She looked at you, for the first time since she started speaking and gave you a merciful look.

"I didn't even know, baby. I know you were in your head about something, as you were so quiet, but I didn't know what about. I didn't want to pry there because I knew you'd not want to talk about it, but I'm happy you told me now."

You noticed how her shoulders relaxed a little, growing more comfortable into speaking about her feelings of jealousy with you.

"As you said, it was just my best friend. I'm sure she didn't mean anything with any of those touches, she's married to a man after all," Jessie's cheeks grew red at those words, realizing how silly this situation was. She shot you a look from the corner of her eye and noticed the smile that was dancing on your lips. "Don't laugh at me, please."

"I'm not laughing!", you held your hands up in defense as you pulled her back into you, laying face to face again. "No need for you to be jealous, Jess. Your bed is the one I'm in at night, and I wouldn't want to change that for the world," you started. You pressed a quick kiss against her nose before you continued. "It's okay to be jealous, really. It just shows that you care for me, and love me. And to be honest, it's really quite hot. But I promise I'm yours, I am now and I will be for as long as you want me."

Jessie's gaze found yours and she looked at you lovingly before cocking an eye at you, surprised at your words. Your hands found her waist and you pulled Jessie's body flush against yours, before continuing. "I like it when you get jealous, or possessive, what ever you want to call it," it was your turn now for your cheeks to grow red.

"Still, I shouldn't have been. Now I know that it was just your friend, it really does feel a little silly."

You pressed your index finger against Jessie's lips, signaling her to be quiet – to not talk about it anymore. You caught her off guard when you straddled her hips in one swift movement, grinning down at her from your position on top of her. Your legs were spread on each side of her waist and Jessie's hands instinctively grabbed your sides, digging her fingers into your hips as you leaned down and pressed a loving kiss against her lips. A soft moan escaped Jessie's throat as you deepened the kiss, something she would probably be embarrassed about if it wasn't followed by one of your own right after. You bit Jessie's bottom lip and let it go with a pop when you broke the kiss.

"It's okay, really. Don't feel bad about it. Misunderstandings happen, okay? As I said; it just shows to me that you care for me and love me. It's cute."

Like clockwork you noticed her cheeks turning a deep shade of red, but you decided not to tease her for it and lean back into a kiss. You swiped her bottom lip with your tongue, silently asking for permission to enter her mouth which she eagerly granted. You tested the waters by teasingly rolling your hips against hers, causing Jessie's breath to hitch. She dug her fingers deeper into your sides and helped you roll back and forth on top of her, the extra leverage of her arms causing your arousal to grow quickly.

And when her hands started to wander this time, you didn't tell her off like you did this morning.

[matan4il]

Daily update post:

Today, Israel is voting in its local elections (for mayors and city councils). ALMOST all of Israel. The original date was at the end of October 2023, for obvious reasons, the elections were postponed. There were also a lot of mayor nominees, who were summoned for reserves service due to the war, and one of the reasons why the elections were postponed more than once, was to give as many of them as possible a chance to finish their service, and participate in their own election campaign. But even so, there are still hundreds of thousands of people from evacuated communities (displaced people, internal refugees, however you wanna call them), and therefore not everyone will be voting today. For the evacuated cities and towns, the elections were postponed until November. Looking at things, it's not sure they'll be back in their homes by then either, so IDK what their elections will look like. And then of course there are the hostages. Save for two, 4 years old Ariel Bibas and his 1 years old baby brother Kfir, they all had the right to vote, and none will get to. We remember them and hurt over their absence and everything being continuously being stolen from them on this day, too. On a side note, the national supervisor of these local electional is Rayan Ghanem. And if you know Jewish last names, you know Ghanem is not one of them. I'm trying to remember a time in apartheid South Africa when a non-white was a national supervisor of elections.

Despite still pointing out that the International Court of Justice has no right to judge the case brought to it by South Africa (becaue of SA's false claims to bring this case to court), Israel has filed a report in accordance with one of the ICJ's provisional measures, showing that its actions are in compliance with all of them (like providing humanitarian aid to Gaza, and doing all it can to protect civilians).

Meanwhile, at Harvard, just 6 weeks after she was appointed to lead the task force meant to combat Jew hatred, the university's antisemitism tsar has quit her position, with reports saying that she's frustrated over her inability to implement practical measures.

Remember when I wrote about Idan Amedi, the Israeli singer and actor that most people outside our country know from his role on Fauda? He gave a really moving speech when he was released from the hospital. I've wanted to share it for a while, but couldn't find it translated well. I found this bit:

But it really doesn't cover how moving the whole speech is (it's 9 minutes long). Among other things, he also thanked medical teams, assured Israelis we have the best ones, and apologized to his soldiers who died in the same incident in which he was injured. He also mentioned that he was unrecognizable when he was rushed into the hospital, and that doctors only identified him by the note that was attacked to his hand. It turns out, he really wanted people to see what he was talking about, and to understand that by the time he gave this public speech, he was already looking much better than on the day of he was wounded. So here is the image he shared himself on his IG (just scroll quickly past it, if you feel like it is too much for you, which is an understandbale reaction):

This is 68 years old David Edri.

On October 7, he was held hostage with his wife by Hamas for hours. At a certain point, he even covered his wife Rachel with his own body, in order to protect her from the terrorists' shots. They both survived. Yesterday, we got the news that he has passed away. His family said the trauma and stress from the massacre, and the news of its scale, had aggravated his medical problems for the last couple of months, until he could no longer go on.

This is 23 years old Raz Mizrachi.

In May 2021, she was injured in a vehicular terrorist attack in Jerusalem, but survived. On Oct 7, she was attending the Nova music festival. Her last phone call was to the police, to help instruct them on where she and dozens of others were hiding from Hamas terrorists, inside a public bomb shelter. Raz was murdered shortly after that. When her mom got a copy of the call's recording, she said it was a great source of comfort to the family, to know that Raz was a fighter till the last moment.

May their memory be a blessing.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[yourmomxx]

Father of Mine

father of mine masterlist

summary: All Dean Winchester ever wanted was to protect the people he loved. Sometimes, in order to do that, he had to make hard decisions, Lisa and Ben were the prime example. Years after making another one of those hard decisions, he has to come back to the place where he had left a piece of his heart - only to be constantly reminded of what he had to sacrifice in order to keep his family safe.

warnings: canon violence, child abandonment, swear words, angst, daddy issues, character death, throwing up, this is written like an episode of Supernatural

word count: 8,2k

a/n: I’ve been writing this story for … a year now? I think? And I’ve gotta admit, I am so happy that it is finally out. Everything that I write means incredibly much to me, but this story just holds such a special place in my heart and I am very happy to share it now with you guys. I do hope you like it, and, as always, reblogs are very much appreciated because that way the story gets spread to more people! Now, enjoy!

flashbacks are written in italics

pt1 pt2 pt3

Cleveland, Ohio 2002

The bar was crowded with people.

Gruffed men wearing leather jackets and intoxicated women in crop-tops were all sprawled out around an alcohol booth in the middle.

In another corner, currently bathed in purple and orange spotlight, a guy with an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt and a bucket-hat was giving a lousy cover of ‘God save the Queen’ by Sex Pistols.

♫ ♪ “Don't be told what you want. Don't be told what you need. There's no future, no future, no future for you!” ♫ ♪

On one of the way too small bar chairs, sipping a burning mix of whiskey and ginger ale, was sitting Dean Winchester, and he was pissed.

Pissed at his stupid father, who was acting like Dean was a 15-year-old with no common sense whatsoever, pissed at the goddamn ghost that had found an incredible pleasure in almost ripping his fingers off his hands, and pissed at stupid Sam for just getting up one day and leaving him - didn’t matter if that had been months ago.

And with every drink that Dean downed, he started feeling more like “Dad can kiss my ass” instead of “Dad has been doing this much longer than you and just knows better”. Meaning, he should probably slow down.

But whatever.

His Dad could kiss his ass.

♫ ♪ “Oh when there's no future, how can there be sin? We're the flowers in the dustbin!” ♫ ♪

“Why, hello,” he suddenly heard a sweet voice next to him say.

Dean turned his head and was met face to face with friendly, glimmering eyes.

Those, just as the voice that had spoken to him, belonged to a young woman who seemed to have just appeared next to him.

He moved his gaze up and down her body.

Apart from her eyes, she had smooth skin, that was covered with glowing sweatpearls, most likely because of the stuffy air around them.

Or maybe, just like Dean, she had had a couple drinks too many.

A few, fine strands of her shoulder-length hair were tousled, likely from combing her hands through it.

He licked his lips. “Well, hello you. With whom do I have the pleasure?”

He was laying on thick and he knew that, but it’s not like he could care about it.

“Gloria. Richards.” She was speaking in a soft, honey voice, and Dean urged himself to focus on her face, and not the way her neck and chest were lightly gleaming from the thin layer of sweat covering them.

“What’s yours?”

Dean Winchester.

But no, that wasn’t his name. Not today at least. If he could just remember what was. And the drinks didn’t exactly make thinking easier.

“Dean Hansley.”

Gloria smiled again.

What a nice smile she had.

"Dean Hansley." She tasted the words, let them burn on her tongue. "That's a nice name."

And then she sat down at the stool next to him, without waiting for him to invite her, and she started talking.

And he talked back with her.

And time went by, and she kept finishing and ordering drinks, that Dean all offered to pay, and she never refused.

By now, the guy in the Hawaiian shirt had been thrown off the karaoke stage, after heavily throwing up into one of the other guest's handbags, halfway through a tedious ballad about life, and love, and its misery.

The only source of music was coming from the colorful jukebox next to the pool board.

A couple drunk-off-their-asses idiots, trying to play billiards, were loudly roaring along to AC/DC’s ‘You shook me all night long’.

♫ ♪ “She was a fast machine, she kept her motor clean, she was the best damn woman that I ever seen!” ♫ ♪

Gloria was still sitting next to him, although a bit closer, and she was sipping at her third drink he had bought her tonight.

And damn, that girl had high tolerance.

Dean thought she was amazing.

“That thing with your family sucks, really.” She scrunched up her nose in slight discomfort.

Dean let out a humorless laugh and took a sip of the whiskey he was still stuck with. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

Yes, he had told her about his - family issues. But so what?

It felt nice having someone listening to him for a change. Someone who wasn’t his family, didn’t even know them, and wouldn’t try to disregard his frustration by telling him to ‘put himself in his father’s shoes for once’.

Gloria finished her drink and used the palm of her hand to wipe the sweat off her forehead.

Dean tried his best to not think too much about her knee touching his, her being so close him.

“The air in here is terrible,” she said, heavily emphasizing the last word.

Dean’s attention was turned to her again. He knew she had said something before that, but he hadn’t been able to catch it, too lost in his own mind.

He kind of felt bad for not listening to her.

Dean threw a look around.

“Yeah, it’s getting pretty hot in here,” he agreed, feeling pearls of sweat rolling off the little hairs on his neck.

Gloria looked directly into his eyes, then up his body, down his body, before settling on his eyes again.

She bit the inside of her cheek. Then her lip.

“I mean,” she slowly spoke, “we could continue this conversation somewhere else if you want. Where there’s not so many people and the air doesn’t taste like salt.”

♫ ♪ “You really took me and you shook me all night long! Ooh, you shook me all night long!” ♫ ♪

Hell yeah.

A boyish grin started forming on his face.

“An offer like that - how could I say no?”

༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻

Now

“Read it again for me.”

Dean was staring straight ahead onto the road, his gaze hard and jaw clenched.

Sam sighed and opened the newspaper again, for what had to be the seventh time now since they had first found it.

They were both sitting in the Impala, Castiel in the backseat. The angel could have just flipped his wings and flown to the destination they were headed, but he had insisted to take the drive with them, claiming he had “nothing better to do anyway”.

“St. George, Louisiana,” Sam started to read.

“In the night of Wednesday to Thursday, a young man was found dead in his room in Saint George’s Children’s Home. The 17-year-old Roy Kendall hadn’t come out of his room the first half of the day, and when a woman of the working personnel - whose name has been withheld - came to check on him, she discovered his mutilated body draped out on the bed. According to the police, the young man’s rib cage had been compressed with such force that his ribs were broken and had managed to pierce through the young man’s internal organs, which resulted in him slowly bleeding out internally. Authorities are still in the dark about the exact details of the tragedy and the questions of “Why” and, particularly, “How” something like this could even be possible. The head of the Children’s Care Institution …, blah blah blah.”

Sam purposefully drifted off and ended his reading session therefore. He folded the newspaper back together and stuffed it into the Impala’s globe compartment.

“And that’s it, I am not reading this again. Next thing you know, I’m going to dream about squished organs and ribcages.”

He shuddered.

“I just don’t get it, man,” Dean said, ignoring his brother’s complaints, but he didn’t seem to address anyone in particular.

“I mean, I checked everything, Sammy. No demonic omens, no strategic killings, no recent disappearances. That place was all white picket fences and summer barbecues when we- ”

He was quick to cut himself off.

Sam threw his brother a side glance, but decided to not address his slip-up.

“Well, Dean, sometimes monsters just … turn up, you know.” This time Sam turned his head to get a proper look at his older brother.

“Maybe it’s just passing through, or simply moved there from somewhere else. They aren’t exactly tied to a specific place.”

Dean ran his hand over his face and through his hair in distress. “Out of all places, why there?” He muttered in a low tone.

And again, he was more talking to himself than anyone else.

“I don’t understand.” Cas was suddenly talking from the back seat. “What is in this Children’s Home that is of so much importance to you both?”

Dean was quick to answer a “Nothing,” but Castiel didn’t quite believe him.

Sam turned in his seat to face the angel.

“We were working a case near there a while back,” he simply explained.

Cas frowned, still not quite convinced, but he decided to let the topic rest. For now, at least.

“I understand,” he said. “Then it would probably be of benefit for you to stick with your past aliases. Just in case anyone there should recognize you.”

“Yeah. Maybe,” Dean vaguely answered, but he seemed trapped deep in his own thoughts.

༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻

Black Hawk, Colorado 2002

“To listen to this voicemail, call-”

A dial tone sounded. The message was a few months old.

“Hey, Dean, it’s uh … it’s Gloria. You know, Gloria Richards, from a few nights ago?” A humorless chuckle was heard on the other end of the line.

“Though, guys like you don’t usually remember their casual one-night hookups. So I’ll cut straight to the chase.” One heavy inhale.

“I’m pregnant. And I know the chances of you wanting anything to do with me are zero to negative six, but I just wanted to-”

“To delete this voicemail, press 2.”

A tone.

“Voicemail deleted.”

“To listen to this voicema-”

The woman on the other end sounded more outraged this time, even though occasional cracks or hiccups in her voice gave away that she had been heavily crying moments before. Maybe still was.

“Hello Dean, it’s me again. You know, I didn’t expect you to jump up high at the news, but ignoring me?” She scoffed. “That’s a different type of low.”

She sniffled. “I’m just calling to tell you I’ve decided to keep the baby. So you can still change your mind, if you-”

“To delete this voicemail, press-” “Voicemail deleted.”

“To listen to th-”

“Hello, Dean. It’s Gloria. Again.”

This time, she seemed calmer, which could be reasoned with the tiredness her voice was radiating.

“I suppose I’m still kind of hoping that you will call me back. Or even pick up.” She sighed.

“I wanted to tell you that she’s perfectly healthy and growing. That’s right. She. Our baby is going to be a-”

“To delete this-” ”Voicemail deleted.”

John Winchester stared at the small phone in his hand and pressed a button.

“You have no more voicemails.”

That moment, Dean came bursting into the motel room, looking around the empty shelves and patting up and down his jacket- and jeans-pockets.

“Hey Dad, do you know where my phone is? I heard it ringing,” Dean asked.

“Yes, just some spam-callers,” John neatly lied. “I took care of it, but I’m gonna put it out of service, just in case.”

Dean looked at him and for a moment, John thought his son would grow suspicious, but he just nodded. “Alright. Thanks, Dad.”

John nodded and Dean left the room with his bag in hand. When he was certain Dean wouldn’t come back, John took the phone apart and crashed the SIM Card on the nightstand with the lamp.

Then he put the pieces in the bin, took his duffel bag and followed his son to the car.

༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻

Now

The St. George’s Children’s Home was somewhat of a small castle, kept in a renaissance style.

Around a large courtyard, archways connected four round-towers, which were slightly higher than the rest of the castle. The walls were painted a pale yellow.

Trees grew in the gardens around the castle, flowers in planted beds, and as far as Dean could remember, there was a hedge maze behind the walls, not visible from the gateway.

They had parked the Impala in one of the parking spaces next to the tall, elegant terrain fence.

Sam and Dean were wearing black suits and their fake badges, Castiel - as always - stuck with the trench coat.

Dean was eyeing the building suspiciously.

In fact, he had been doing so for the last three minutes, in which they had all sat in the Impala in complete silence.

Sam threw a quick, concerned glance at his brother before clearing his throat.

“You really wanna do this?”, he asked quietly.

“No,” Dean answered and opened the car door, “But it’s not like we have a choice, right?”

Sam sighed and did the same, not before exchanging a quick, apprehensive look with Castiel, who still didn’t quite know what was going on.

The castle’s inside was considerably more modern than its outside.

With brightly-colored walls and furniture, and minimalistic decorations all over.

It seemed cozy.

They were headed for the office of the youth center’s director, Maria Whitlock. Dean remembered exactly where that was. Down the hall, left. Past a few closed bedroom doors. Last door at the end of the corridor.

Dean cleared his throat and knocked on the door, Sam right behind him. Castiel had left before they had entered the castle, claiming to look for a suitable Motel nearby, and telling them to contact him if they needed his help.

There was a beat of silence before they heard a woman’s voice reply “Yes?” and entered the office.

Maria Whitlock was an elderly woman, with dark red hair that she kept in a low bun. She was around a head smaller than Dean, and wearing a grey blouse combined with a wine red jacket and a black pencil skirt.

When she heard them enter the room, she looked up from a few papers she was filing, and her face immediately fell.

“Hello, Maria.” Sam greeted her.

“Dean and Sam Winchester,” she breathed out, startled.

“I never thought I would see you two again.”

Dean felt a sting in his chest.

“Yeah, well,” Sam said and tried a clumsy smile. A heavy silence followed, and Dean shifted uncomfortably.

Maria frowned. “Not to seem impolite, but what are the two of you doing here?” She asked.

Sam cleared his throat awkwardly.

“We, uhm, we heard about Roy and we thought that, maybe, we should just check if everything was alright and, of course, speak our condolences. You know, for old time’s sake.”

She nodded and closed the pen. “Yes, right. Roy. I completely forgot that they put that in the paper.”

A look of dark grief fell over her face and her gaze drifted into nothingness. She suddenly looked much older than she was.

Dean cleared his throat. “I gave you my number, Maria,” he spoke. “If you would’ve called, we could’ve been here sooner.”

She blinked rapidly, pulling herself out of her thoughts and looked at him for a second before she replied.

“I know, I know, but to be honest - it slipped my mind, in between all of this … chaos and tragedy.”

While she was talking, she got up from her chair and walked around the table, getting a clearer view at Sam and Dean.

“Of course,” Sam hastily said. “No worries. We are very sorry for your loss.”

She gave him a sad smile. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

Dean was glad that it had been Sam who had spoken up. He wasn’t very good at that sort of things. Nor did he aspire to be.

“You said you were here because of Roy’s …. passing,” Maria continued, and the brothers nodded.

“But that would mean that this was some sort of - unnatural incident.”

Sam swallowed hard.

“Well,” he started, trying to find the right words that would not trigger a breakdown for the woman, “we saw the article in the newspaper and thought that we would just have a look at it. The circumstances of Roy’s passing aren’t exactly common for a person his age, after all.”

Or for any person, really.

She nodded lazily. “Yes. I suppose you are right.”

Dean could swear that another minute of awkward silence between them would probably kill him, so he took it upon himself to prevent it before it started.

“I get that this is hard, Maria,” he said, “But if we could maybe ask you some questions? Maybe speak to the person that found him?”

She sniffled.

Oh dear God.

“Yes, yes, of course.” Her voice was a bit higher than before, and her hands grabbed for a handkerchief lying on the table.

“Uhm, the woman who found him was one of my responsible supervisors, Betty Langston. She should be present in the building today, but the last time I spoke to her, she was still pretty shaken up. I mean, who can blame her? I can’t even imagine what it must have been like, seeing that poor boy lying on his bed, just- ”

She broke off and a sob escaped her lips, before she buried her face in the kerchief.

“I’m sorry,” she cried, “I’m sorry, it’s just - he was such a kind boy. He had his whole life ahead of him. And the way that he had to go…”

She raised her head and shook it, eyes reddened and filled with tears.

“I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone.”

“We understand, Maria,” Sam spoke in a comforting, low voice.

And Dean added, “And I promise we will find whatever did this and make sure this happens to no one ever again.”

She forced herself to a smile.

“Thank you, boys. May the angels be with you.”

Dean forbid himself a snort.

“Thank you for your time, Maria. We will let you know when we know more,” Sam said and left the office.

He wouldn’t risk making her cry again by bothering her with questions about her dead fosterling.

Dean smiled at Maria and turned to follow his brother, but she stopped him.

“Dean.”

He turned to face her.

“You do know that it won’t be possible for you to investigate here, without … encountering a certain someone.”

Dean straightened his shoulders.

“Yes, I know.”

“Have you thought about it? What you will say to her?”

“Gotta admit, I haven’t.”

She hummed and nodded. Dean noticed that she had resumed her usual upright position, and if he hadn’t just witnessed it, he probably would not know that she had been crying.

“I should warn you,” she said gently, “It probably won’t be easy.”

“I honestly didn’t expect it to be.”

She smiled a gentle smile at him and he returned it, before finally leaving the room and joining his brother in the hallway.

༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻

Lewiston, Michigan 2004

The first time he had read it, John Winchester had been drunk. He had spared a quick glance at it after coming home from a bar, before throwing himself onto the motel bed and passing out.

The second time he had read it, he had been sober, but suffering from a skull-splitting headache.

The third time he read it, it was simply to make sure his hungover mind wasn’t making any of this up. But no, the words on the newspaper stayed the same, grinning up at him with a sickening smirk that made his stomach turn.

In the small corner of the left page, where the lesser important news were usually placed, throned the bold-printed, black words:

24-year-old woman dies in tragic car accident, leaves 1-year-old daughter behind

No. God, no.

He read it again. Read the headline, read the article, the name that had been shortened but to him unmistakable: Gloria R.

R. Just like Richards. Gloria Richards.

There was a picture placed right next to the text, held in color, of a young woman that was clearly putting on a smile for the camera.

John slammed the newspaper on the round table.

“Damn it!” He yelled.

And in that moment, John was grateful that Dean had offered to go on a coffee run.

—

He was ‘going on a quick hunt’. That’s what he told Dean.

He was ‘going on a quick hunt and if anyone needed anything, they should contact Dean’. That’s what he told Bobby. And everyone that reached his voicemail.

Cleveland, Ohio. That’s where he was going. He had some business to attend to.

—

Central Nebraska

To say that Ellen Harvelle wasn’t delighted about John Winchester showing up inside the Roadhouse would be quite an understatement.

She was furious.

John paid attention to enter the wooden cabin carefully. He didn’t expect Ellen to be pleased by his sudden presence, especially considering their last encounter with each other.

It was a random Wednesday afternoon, and there wasn’t anyone seated in the Roadhouse, except for Ellen herself, who was busy cleaning the bar with a half-wet kitchen towel.

The brunette woman looked up for a quick second, as a form of formality, before she dedicated her attention back onto the dirty surface.

“I’ll be with you in a secon-” Then she realized. Stopped. Did a double take.

“Winchester.” The word was dripping from her lips with loathing.

“Hello, Ellen,” he started, but she cut him off.

“What do you want?” Her question was blunt and her tone cold and unwelcoming.

John cleared his throat and stepped from one foot to the other. He had to sell his story good, if Ellen wouldn’t get on board with his proposition, he had nobody else to go to.

“Look, Ellen. I get that you’re mad- ”

“Mad?” She let out a short, sour laugh.

“Mad doesn’t even begin to describe what I am feeling towards you, Winchester. Try hatred. Pure disgust.” She scoffed again.

“You must have a death wish, because I couldn’t think of any other possible reason why you would drag your dumbass out here again. ”

John swallowed hard. She was right. Who was he to just show up here again? After what happened?

But there was no turning back now, he had to go through with this.

“You’re right.” He spoke in a low tone to try and seem less intimidating and also attempt to soothe her temper towards him.

“I am sorry about what happened, Ellen. If I could go back and do it any different, then I would.”

A lie. She knew that. He knew that she knew that. Still - she didn’t interrupt, just kept glaring at him, so he decided to continue.

“But unfortunately, I can’t. And I know you have every right and reason to hate me now.”

Agreeing and empathizing with her.

“But there is something extremely important that I need to ask of you.”

Again, he didn’t have much time to talk, before Ellen raised her voice.

“You damned son of a bitch!”, she yelled, tossing the kitchen towel onto the counter with such force, the leftover water splashed around.

“You ain’t got no right walking in here, after what you pulled, and ask a goddamned favor of me!”

Her voice was loud in the silence of the Roadhouse and John lifted his hands up in defense.

“Ellen, please! Listen to me!”, he pleaded. Ellen wasn’t yelling at him anymore, but her jaw was still clenched and her entire body tense.

“I wouldn’t be here if I had any other options. Like you said, I must have a Deathwish to show up here. And I understand that. But you are the only person that I can trust with this. You can toss me out all you want after. You can yell, and scream, and punch me, and shoot at me. Just please, hear me out first. ”

There was silence, where John just stood there, his hands still raised in the air in front of him, and Ellen grinding her teeth as she thought about what to do now.

Because by God, did she hate him. And a part of her wanted to take a rifle and first shoot a bullet into his feet and then his di-

But on the other hand, she could not recall a time that John Winchester had ever gotten himself into a position to beg.

No, he was too proud for that. So whatever he wanted must be goddamn important for him, really.

“Tell me what you need, Winchester,” Ellen said eventually, “And let me decide afterwards.”

Her body language didn’t show one sign of hospitality still, but John interpreted her words as somewhat of a good sign.

Hopefully.

༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻

Now

After their talk with Maria, Sam and Dean settled on questioning Betty Langston.

In the middle of the wall in the entrance hall, a big frame with the pictures, names and duties of the working staff was hung up.

Above the name ‘Betty Langston’ was a picture of a friendly looking woman in her mid-twenties, with a pointed nose and blonde strands of hair framing her face.

Underneath, the duties “Social Worker” and “Deputy Manager” were listed.

When they knocked on the door which was labeled “staff”, a young man opened and told them that Betty Langston was currently positioned on the second floor.

Dean wanted to take the elevator, but Sam dragged him up the stairs.

“It will be faster,” he guaranteed, and Dean just rolled his eyes with a groan.

The hallways on the second floor were surprisingly wide, with doors placed across each other in a zig zag pattern.

Here and there were a few paintings on the walls, old and new, and green neon signs pointing toward the emergency exit.

They met Betty after they turned around the first corner. She stood in front of a pinboard and was currently hanging up new posters.

Her hair was different from the picture, slightly longer now ending halfway down her back, and copper colored with only a few blonde highlights.

The brothers made their way over to her and flashed their fake FBI-badges when she let off her work and shifted her attention to them.

“Hello, my name is David Shields, my partner’s name is Jarvis Stark,” introduced Dean. “Are you Betty Langston?”

The young woman gaped at them, slightly caught off guard. “Uhm yes, that’s me,” she eventually got out and lowered her arms. “What can I do for you?”

Dean caught a glimpse of the writing on the poster. It was a few phone numbers, and in dark blue, a text above read: ‘DON’T HESITATE TO ASK FOR HELP!’

“We’re here to ask you about Roy Kendall,” Sam carefully approached, “We understand that you are the one who found him.”

Dean couldn’t help but notice how Betty Langston’s eyes shifted to the floor and she nervously trailed her fingers up and down the paper in her hand.

“Um yes, I … I found him.” Her voice got small and she swallowed hard.

“But what does the FBI want with that? I thought it was a wild animal.”

“Given the unusual occurrence of Roy’s death, we thought it necessary to at least have a look at this case and find out what we can,” Sam said.

“That doesn’t have to mean anything, though,” Dean quickly tried to soothe her when he noticed the tears springing in the woman’s eyes. “Exactly,” Sam hastily agreed. “Only a few questions, just in case.”

Betty nodded and blinked away her tears. “Okay,” she quietly said. Sam reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out his notebook and a pen.

“Did Roy mention something … I don’t know, unusual before he died?” Sam asked, clicking the pen and bringing his notepad in position. The young woman hesitated.

“Well, not that I know of,” she eventually said, “But, you see, kids at that age … they don’t talk to us adults much anymore. If you want to know something about Roy, you better ask his friends.”

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. “His friends?” He repeated. She nodded. “Mhm.”

“And, uh - who are his friends, if I may ask?” Sam tuned in again. Betty thought for a second and then clicked her tongue. “Well, there’s Cassandra, Cassandra Claire,” she said and started counting the listed names on her fingers. “And, uhm, Finnegan Beckett.” Sam repeated the children’s names under his breath as he quickly wrote them down.

“And Y/N Winchester,” Betty finished.

Sam abruptly stopped writing at the ‘n’ and looked up. He felt Dean visibly tense and shift next to him.

The younger brother just put on a smile and folded the small notepad back into the inner pocket of his jacket. But not before completely writing out the last name on the list.

“Thank you so much, Miss Langston, you helped us a lot. We will let you know if there are any more questions. And, our condolences,” he added.

She shyly smiled back at him and slowly continued gathering thumbtacks to hang up her posters, and the brothers left.

Sam waited until they were out of hearing range, then turned to Dean. “So…that was something,” he carefully started.

“What do you mean?”

Sam threw him a look. “You know what I mean. The witness list. Roy’s friends. That last name…”

Dean sighed heavily. Sam waited for him to say something. And when he didn’t, Sam just shook his head but decided to not stress it any further.

“So, where to now?” He asked instead.

Dean took a look at his watch. “The morgue, I’d say. As far as I know they’re closing soon, and a dead body is not exactly the first thing I need to see in the morning, so-”

Sam nodded in agreement. “Yeah, alright. Sounds good.”

They made their way out of the castle.

“You want to take Castiel?” Sam questioned when he rounded the car.

“No,” Dean decided firmly and opened the driver’s door. “Remember what happened last time? Exactly. I don’t need Cas smelling some dead guy again.”

Sam grinned at the memory. With a creak, the Impala gave in to their weight as they sat down, and the gravel gnashed under her tires when they drove off.

༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻

Central Nebraska 2006

Roughly, the dark minivan tuckered over the bumpy earth of the pathetic excuse of a road, and Dean’s insides flinched with every squeak the old car made.

When they finally came to a stop, he tossed the keys somewhere and maybe slammed the door with a bit more force than necessary. A lot more.

“This is humiliating,” he grumbled, as he took in the atrocious excuse of a vehicle they just stepped out of. He missed his Baby.

Sam ignored him, and stepped forward, towards the old wooden – house? Shack? – the mysterious phone number on their dad’s cell had led them to.

The huge letters ROADHOUSE flaunted above them, and Dean thought that these were probably made to light up when the sun disappeared.

The rest of the house looked abandoned, frankly, from the outside, and that, in combination with the four-month-old voicemail, made Dean not like his odds very much. The chances that this Ellen chick was still alive, knowing what his father had needed her for, were slim in his mind.

Or hell, maybe she just called from here, got the phone from some rando, and got on her merry way when she realized John wasn’t calling back. It’s probably what he would’ve done.

Safe to say, Dean didn’t like their odds. Even less so when they entered the eerie quiet of the bar, and spotted a man lying unconscious, probably dead, on the pool table.

Dean felt his shoulders stiffen. He didn’t like this one bit, and every second he spent here made the alarm in his head shrill even louder than before.

Dean only just turned to take a closer look at one of the shelves, when he felt something hard dig into his lower back, and heard an all too familiar clicking sound.

Dean closed his eyes. “Please tell me that is a gun.”

“No, I’m just very happy to see you,” came the fast answer from a very snarking - and female? - voice.

In one swift motion, Dean whirled around, grabbed the barrel, ripped it out of his attacker’s hand, and uncocked it. The bullet fell to the ground with an echoing clatter.

Dean almost smirked triumphantly at the blonde girl in front of him, when he felt a sudden, blinding pain in his face.

And if Dean had thought pulling up in a 30-year-old, barely functional van, of all things was humiliating, he didn’t calculate how it would feel to be absolutely sucker punched by a girl, not even as old as him.

Aside from the obvious nosebleed, his ego took a severe bruise.

“Sam! Little help here!” He called, hand still holding his hurting face.

The door swung open, and Sam walked out, hands raised to his head, a sheepish look on his face. “Sorry Dean,” he said, “I’m a little tied up right now.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline, as he watched another woman with dark brown hair follow his brother close behind, a revolver held to his head in fair warning.

He would be impressed, if his vision wasn’t swimming right now.

The older woman behind Sam furrowed her brows. “Wait, Sam? Dean?” She asked, exchanging looks with kick-ass Blondie in front of him. “Winchester?”

There was a beat, before the brothers pressed out a unison “Yeah?”

“Son of a bitch.”

“Mom, you know these guys?” Dean’s head hurt with how much he was swinging it around to keep up.

“Yeah, I think these are John Winchester’s boys.” And that made Dean perk up.

The woman let out a laugh as she lowered her weapon.

—

A few minutes later, Dean was served with an iced cloth for his nose, and he and Sam seated themselves on a few of the bystanding bar chairs.

The brunette woman, who had threatened Sam, turned out to be the mysterious Ellen, whose voicemail on their dad’s phone they followed here. Jo, her daughter, and also the kick-ass blonde that had held the rifle to Dean’s back, looked about as unknowing about the whole situation as the brothers did.

Turns out Ellen had contacted John about the demon he was hunting. Said she could help him with it. Why John had never mentioned her, or her daughter, she didn’t say. Told them to ask him themselves. Dean didn’t say anything to that.

“So why exactly do we need your help?”, Dean asked, repositioning the cloth on his face.

Ellen scoffed. “Hey, don’t do me any favors. If you don’t want my help, fine.” There was a snarking edge to her voice, and Dean started to realize why his father would associate with her.

“Don’t let the door smack your ass on the way out,” she continued. “But John wouldn’t have sent you, if–“

There it was.

Ellen stood straighter. A haunted look crossed her eyes. “He didn’t send you.” It wasn’t a question.

Dean looked away.

“He’s alright, isn’t he?” Dean hadn’t known Ellen Harvelle for very long, but even he could sense the way her voice wavered. And know that she was a smart enough woman to not truly believe what she was asking.

“No.” Sam cleared his throat, and the simple word echoed through the deafening silence. “No, he’s not. We think the demon did it. Got to him before he got to it.” The thankful feeling of not being the one to have to tell her what happened felt like a sin in Dean’s gut. Then again, what’s one more on his plate.

“I’m sorry,” Ellen said. It’s what everyone said.

“It’s alright. We’re good.”

Ellen didn’t believe him, he saw it in her eyes. But she didn’t bother him more about it, either.

“So, look, if you can help us,” Sam said, and Dean threw him a look that showed just how much he wanted to smack his little brother across the face, “we’d be real happy about all the help we can get.”

Ellen’s lips twisted. “We can’t help you.”

Is this lady for real-

“But he can.”

And then the dead man stood up from the pool table.

—

Ash was a tech freak, with a haircut like Billy Ray Cyrus and the mouth of a southern cowboy. Jo called him a genius. Dean didn’t know what to think of that.

Still, he had passed him their dad’s journal, told him to go nuts, and Ash had drooled over John Winchester’s handiwork like a child over a lollipop.

Ash had left with the journal and the promise of new information in the time of fifty-one hours.

Dean thought that was long enough time to take a drink.

Jo Harvelle was a pretty woman. When she wasn’t threatening him with a rifle or punching him in the face, that was. Her soft, blonde curls fell long over her shoulders, and those jeans did wonders to her curves.

Dean started conversing with her. While he had moved to one of the tables, Sam had stayed with Ellen at the bar. He found out that her father died, a long time ago. In the back of his mind, a mean voice cackled at the irony. He paid his sympathies.

Then, suddenly, one of the doors to the backrooms flew open, and a small whirlwind of colorful fabric and y/h/c hair came dashing into the room.

“Aunty Ellen, Aunty Ellen! Look what I made!”

Dean’s head whipped around at the sound of the high-pitched voice and he spotted a small girl, not older than five years probably, squeezing herself behind the bar table. When he noticed Ellen bowing her head, he figured that the little girl had probably reached her destined spot next to her.

Dean, though he would never admit it, was an easily curious person, so he followed Jo on her way to the bar and leaned slightly over the tablewood to catch a glimpse at the small intruder.

Little Lady was tugging at Ellen’s pantleg, and expectantly holding up a colored paper for her to look at.

“Look at what I drew, Auntie Ellen!” she repeated, in that same excited tone as before, when she had stormed into the room.

Dean watched as Ellen abandoned her washcloth somewhere behind her and crouched down to meet with the little girl eye-to-eye, as she inspected her drawing.

“That’s so amazing, baby, is that us?” The girl nodded, her pigtails wiggling up and down as she bopped her head enthusiastically.

“Yes, that is you, and that is Jo, and that is me. And look, I made my own fingerprint!” She dashed her finger into a spot on the paper, and then proudly held up the red-colored tip to shove it in Ellen’s face.

The woman had a wide, genuine smile on her face. “I can see that, baby, well done, it looks so nice!” She praised. “How about we hang it up there next to the menu?”

The girl nodded her head again, and let Ellen scoop her up gently. Only then, when Little Lady was at height with them, she seemed to notice the strangers standing in the room.

In the matter of a second, Dean saw her whole demeanor shift from bubbly and open, to a more closed off version, sinking further into Ellen’s embrace and clutching the fabrics of her shirt. Something about it made Dean’s heart sting.

“Auntie Ellen?” The girl tried to whisper, but Dean had learned soon that children were terrible whisperers, “Who is that?”

Ellen looked first to Sam, then Dean, and back at the little girl in her arms. “Those are friends of Jo and me, sweetheart. Their names are Sam-“ Dean’s little brother gave a wave and a smile when Ellen introduced him. “-and Dean.”

Dean grinned and carefully stretched his hand out. “Very nice to meet you, Little Lady. Who am I speaking to, may I ask?” He laid a formal accent on his voice, one that he knew had always made Sam laugh when he was a child. It was an olive branch, but something in him hoped she would grab it.

The small giggle that Little Lady let out made Dean’s heart bloom with a warmth he didn’t know he was able to feel.

“My name’s Y/N,” she said. With a pointed look at Dean’s still outstretched hand, Ellen murmured in her ear, “And what do we do when someone gives us their hand to shake?”

Y/N nuzzled her face into the crook of Ellen’s neck, and Dean almost drew his hand back again, when a small warmth settled into his palm and closed around it.

He smiled at the girl and shook her hand. As they both pulled back, Dean twisted his hand around and huffed. “Ouff, someone has got a firm grip! Your Auntie Ellen teach you that?” Y/N grinned proudly at him and nodded her head. Then she held up her hand and showed him four fingers. “I’m already this old!”

Dean gasped. “Really? Well, that is a great age, no wonder you are so strong!”

Y/N was beaming now.

She didn’t hide in Ellen’s neck again.

“So, what about that picture now?” Ellen bounced the girl on her hip once, and it seemed like she was snapped out of a trance. Determinedly, she pointed at a space next to a hung-up blackboard. Dean figured Ellen usually wrote her daily specials on that.

The woman made a few steps over where Y/N had led her and gestured toward an already hung drawing of blue water and grey – fish? – above it, that was already taped to the wall.

“But we already put a picture there. We would have to remove that one if you want your new drawing to hang here.” The girl shrugged, and already reached for a roll of clean tape on the shelf.

“That’s okay, I don’t like dolphins all that much anymore anyway,” she explained nonchalantly. “I will just put it in my drawing box.”

Dean watched as Ellen carefully picked the old drawing from the wall to make space for the new one. He was so caught up in the scenery, he almost didn’t notice how Sam was scooting closer to him.

“You know who she is?” Sam asked. Dean turned his attention to his brother.

“Well, her name’s Y/N,” Dean answered simply. Sam didn’t roll his eyes at him, but it was a close call.

Dean just shrugged. “Guess she isn’t Ellen’s. Otherwise, she wouldn’t call her Auntie.” He pitched the last word high, to mimic the child’s voice.

Sam furrowed his brows as they watched Ellen and the small girl.

“Makes you wonder,” he said, “What she’s doing here.”

Dean just hummed. He made brief eye contact with Y/N, as she stole a look in his direction, but she averted her eyes quickly, as if she had been caught.

Dean found himself slightly smiling.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Sam looking at him. His brother was grinning.

“You love that kid.” It was a statement.

Dean scoffed. “Oh, shut up, I don’t even know her. Also, I love kids, plural.” He added.

Sam nodded, that smile still on his lips. Dean ignored him.

“Come on, ask him. Don’t be shy.” Ellen and Y/N had finished putting up her drawing and were now standing closer to them again. Ellen was still carrying the girl on her hip and had bent down to whisper to her.

Y/N had buried her face in Ellen’s shirt again, clearly shy to say something.

“He ain’t gonna bite you,” Ellen said, nudging her. “Go on.”

Y/N lifted her head, and shyly looked at Dean. Her eyes were flickering all over him, but never exactly to his face.

“Doyouwantodrawwithme?” She spluttered. Dean’s eyebrows shot up.

“Don’t think he understood that. Try a bit slower. You can do this, come on,” Ellen encouraged her.

Y/N clutched her shirt.

“Do you want to draw with me?” She asked, head lowered and looking at her fingers. Her voice was quiet, but to Dean it felt as if she had shouted that sentence.

He felt warm inside. “Of course I want to.”

Y/N’s head shot up, and Dean Winchester had seen many beautiful things in his lifetime, but the gleaming eyes of that small child before him had to be at the top of the list. He never wanted to look at anything else.

Ellen set her down and pointed at a table in the corner of the room.

“Her colors and paper are already set up. Every day, before we officially open,” she explained with a look at Dean, and he nodded. While Sam got comfortable on one of the bar chairs, he made his way over to where Y/N had already set up her coloring tools and begun drawing on a piece of yellow paper.

Her tongue was sticking out of the corner of her mouth in concentration. Dean pulled out a chair and sat down next to her.

“What are you drawing?” He asked, stretching his neck to take a closer look. Y/N leaned back and showed him her creation. Lines of red and yellow. Maybe a tomato? An apple? He turned his head. From that perspective maybe?

“It’s Lighting McQueen!” Y/N told him triumphantly. “I saw cars with Jo.”

Dean nodded. So no apple. He also wasn’t going to point out the girl’s grammar. She was only four after all. And who was he to talk.

“How did you get that?” Y/N suddenly asked, and pointed her small finger at Dean’s forehead, right where a big scar stretched over his skin, consequences of the fatal car accident.

Dean tried his best not to wince. He didn’t need to expose his lingering trauma to this pure soul.

“I was … in an accident,” he said instead. “But I’m okay and it’s almost healed now.”

The girl nodded. Dean was almost astounded at how easy it was with her.

“Whenever I hurt myself, my Auntie Ellen takes me to the Doctor. Or Jo. Or Ash.” Her face scrunches up as she thinks hard. Dean thinks it’s adorable. He finds himself smiling again.

“They always give me colorful plasters! I always get the dinos.” She leans in closer to him when she says the last bit, almost like it’s a secret she only wants him to hear. Dean’s heart warms at the thought, and he doesn’t even know why.

“Really? I’m jealous. I think dinosaurs are amazing.” He used the same hushed tone she had before. Y/N’s eyes widened. “You don’t get dino plasters?” She asked. If Dean hadn’t known better, he would’ve said she was outraged at his confession.

He shook his head. “Nope,” he said, “only boring beige ones.”

Y/N’s eyes widened even more, and her mouth fell open. Then, her lips curved into a beaming smile. “I can give you some of mine! Jo bought me so many the last time she went shopping!”

Before he could even give it a thought, Dean felt her small hand take his, and he was yanked from his seat. Geez, how did a four-year-old kid have so much strength?

His enthusiasm was short-lived, as Sam shouted from the other side of the room.

“Dean, Ellen got us a case!” His little brother was waving around a beige folder, a few newspaper pages hanging out at the sides.

He looked at his brother, then at the girl still clinging her small hand around his fingers.

“Does that mean you have to leave?” Dean’s heart clenched at the quiet, disappointed voice. He crouched down and looked Y/N in the eye.

“Yes,” he said, honestly. “ I have to go to work.”

She tilted her head. “To save people?” She asked. Dean nodded. He didn’t know how she knew, but maybe Ellen told her.

“Yes, exactly. But I will be back soon, and then you can show me your plasters, alright?”

Y/N seemed to think about it, and then nodded her head. Her pigtails were still wiggling up and down. “You promise?” She asked.

Dean nodded. “In fact,” he said, shifted his weight, and held out his pinky finger in front of her. “I pinky promise.”

Y/N grinned up at him. Dean grinned back. She linked her small finger with his.

“Can’t break a pinky promise,” Dean said as he stood up.

She shook her head violently. “Never!”

Dean laughed and waved her Goodbye.

“Let’s go,” he said to Sam as he passed him, and grabbed his jacket.

“Bye, Ellen, Jo.” Sam lowered his voice seriously. “Y/N.”

“Bye, Sam! Bye, Dean!” Y/N waved her hand after them.

“Good luck,” Ellen said. Then they closed the door behind them. The light of the sun was a heavy contrast to the dusky air inside the Roadhouse, and Dean’s eyes needed a while to adjust to the change.

He made his way over to the abomination car, Sam close next to him. His brother bumped his shoulder.

“Plural, huh?” Sam asked, smirking.

And if Dean sped the van up a bit faster, just to give his little brother a good scare now and then, well, that was between him and the Lord above.

[thefallennightmare]

I know that you usually do the headcannons on Monday's and you were thinking of moving it to Tuesday, but I was wondering if you would consider do a special Mother's Day one for this coming Sunday with Noah? I would love to see how Noah and Kenji would surprise Angel on Mother's Day.

@thescarlettvvitch @mitchhbitch @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @loeytuan98 @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @bngurngheart @lma1986 @dsireland86 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @exitwoundsx @shayzillaaaa @lookwhatitcost @badomensls @princesspeach-00 @burning-outx @shadowseve @collective-heartbreak @klutzy-kay24 @sorrowsofsilence @sweetlittlekitsune @shilohrosechicken @itsafullmoon @toospooktocute @niicoleleigh @thatchickwiththecamera @hoe-for-daddywise @whenthesummerdies @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @thisbicc @sammyjoeee

Please enjoy this special edition Mother's Day headcannon! It takes place in the Miracle Universe!

"SHH!" Kenji's loud voice came from down the hall. "You're going to wake momma up!!"

Noah chuckled. "Buddy, your mom slept through a fire. She can sleep through us making her breakfast."

"Wait," your four-year-old blinked. "Momma was in a fire?"

"Shit," Noah muttered under his breath while running his hand through his hair.

Kenji was too young for the story of how your crazy long lost brother tried to kill you in a fire. And how Noah walked through literal fire to save you.

"Sorry, it's an expression," Noah said while flipping the pancakes.

"What's an expression?" Kenji asked while taking a finger and dragging it through the bowl of pancake mix.

Even though he was four, your son Kenji was smarter than he looked. He did take after Noah after all.

You awoke in bed just in time to see Noah and Kenji walk into the room with a tray full of food, Kenji trying to carry the cup filled to the brim with orange juice.

Your heart lept in your throat when you noticed they were wearing matching Bad Omens sweaters and they were sporting the same hairstyle.

Noah had grown out his hair again, along with Kenji, and they both had it pulled back into buns.

"Happy mofers Day!" He yelled when he saw you were awake.

"Thank you my loves," you sleepily smiled at them.

Noah kissed you before setting out the large spread of food in front of you, both of your boys taking their fair share.

You didn't mind. You never did.

"So," Noah popped a grape in his mouth. "What do you want to do for your special day angel?"

"Honestly? This sounds perfect. Laying in bed with you two," you admitted.

The thought of going out in public with large crowds made you nervous, especially now.

Bad Omens were even bigger than they were before Kenji was born. Every time the three of you went out, someone recognized you guys and there had been a few times where you caught people taking pictures of Kenji.

Noah rubbed your back, working out the kinks of a restless night's sleep. "It's whatever you want, Y/N."

"Thank you," you rested your hand on his shoulder as his hand rubbed at your stomach; your ever-growing stomach.

Being nine months pregnant was another reason why you didn't want to go out.

It was a hot day in California and if there was a chance you could sit inside with air conditioning, you took it.

This pregnancy was a lot rougher than Kenji's. And with the previous miscarriages, you and Noah were taking a lot of extra precautions.

Your doctor ordered you on strict bed rest two months ago and Noah, who had tours and media planned, canceled it so he could stay home with you.

Something you tried to fight.

But even if Noah wasn't the one to cancel it, Matt would have because he didn't want anything to happen while they were on the road.

"So is my sister or broffer coming today?" Kenji asked once he finished scarfing down his pancakes.

Like he did every day since you told him six months ago.

"Soon bud," Noah ruffled his hair when Kenji squished himself between the two of you.

The three of you watched Bluey for a while until the baby in your womb began dancing around; right on your bladder.

You and Noah wanted to be surprised so didn't know the gender.

"I have to pee," you grunted while rolling out of bed.

Suddenly you stepped in something wet and when you glanced down, you felt your stomach drop.

"Did you spill something momma?" Kenji asked looking over the bed. "Momma peed!"

Noah immediately sat up in bed, his eyes locking on yours. "Did your-?"

You nodded. "My water just broke."

Less than thirty minutes later, Uncle Jesse and Uncle Jolly were at the house to watch Kenji while you and Noah rushed to the hospital.

You would have been perfectly fine with the gift of breakfast in bed for Mother's Day.

But eight hours later, as you lay in the hospital bed watching Noah do skin-to-skin with your daughter, you let out a lone tear.

"Best Mother's Day ever," you sighed.

Noah kissed your daughter's head. "I've got two angels now."

[lostfirefly]

Please don't say you're gone forever, 'cause I can't hurt no more (Ch.1)

This idea came from the dream. Again :)) Sorry not sorry :)

Buggy and F!Reader.

Description: You're the flower shop owner who has a long-standing relationship with Buggy. You haven't seen each other much in the last few months. He finally arrives to see you, but he's overtaken by fit of jealousy during the dinner.

Warnings: Buggy The Jealous For No Reason Jerk Clown, established relationship, arguing.

Words: 1637

The title is taken from "Gone Forever" by Wearing Scars.

English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)

Masterlist

Taglist: @gingernut1314

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Chapter 2

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

You were sorting out a new delivery of flowers when the bell on the door of your store rang loudly. “Just a minute, please, I’ll just put the flowers in the vase and come out to you!” you shouted from the back room. 

“Miss, I can’t wait a whole minute. I would like to buy a bouquet of beautiful roses, but I’m in a hurry!” An insistent male voice said from the next room. 

A shiver ran through your body. You quickly placed a fresh bouquet of roses in a large ceramic vase and headed into the hall. You opened the door and couldn't help but smile. 

"Hello!" you said as you exhaled. 

"Hey, my sweet cookie!" He stood near the cash register, leaning on the table. 

Your blue-haired man with a big red nose and his famous makeup. Your favorite pirate. Your favorite clown. Your beloved Captain Buggy.

"Finally!!" You ran to him and wrapped your arms around his neck tightly. "What are you.. How are..? Why are..?" You started kissing him on the lips, cheeks, temples, avoiding his nose. “I missed you so much!”

"Answering all your questions at once. We needed to resupply, and I said to dock our ship at your island. I really wanted to see my cookie." He smiled widely and wrapped his arms around your waist. 

You felt the warmth of his touch even through his white gloves. 

"For how long?" You asked quietly, running your hands over his forearms. 

"Two or three days."

“Well, it's better this time." You laughed. “But I need to finish up some work tasks at the store. Can you wait? I’ll close it early today.”

“I’ve come such a long way to you, and you still ask? My sweet cookie, you hurt me.” He shook his head and chuckled.

You smiled, kissed him on the lips again and quickly ran to finish your work. Buggy was wandering from corner to corner, periodically visiting you in the back room to distract you. 

After finishing your work, you closed the store, took Buggy’s hand and led him to your home. On the way you asked him about his adventures, about the sea, other pirates and where he would go next.

“Come in. I’ll make us tea.” You led him into your house and closed the door. 

"Tea? I thought we'd do something else." He said with a slight croak in his voice. 

“We have three more days for something else. Tea first. Are you hungry? I can cook something.”

Buggy shrugged. 

You suggested him to help make a meal together. You opened the bottle of rum just to make the cooking process funnier. When the dish was ready, you sat the plates with food down at the table. 

You sat on his lap, constantly looked at him, smiled and blushed every time he said that this was the most delicious dish in the world. You cannot stop running your hand over his red and white bandana and didn’t know how to stop smiling.

Buggy kissed your hands, your cheeks, your lips and you blushed the whole time.

While you were talking about everything and nothing, there was a knock on the door. 

"Are you waiting for someone?" Buggy asked in surprise. 

“No. I don’t know who it is. Please wait, I’ll be right back.” You kissed him on the cheek and ran to open the door. 

"Tom, what are you doing here?" Your old friend was standing on the threshold. Tall, pumped-up brunette with brown eyes. 

“I thought you were sitting alone. Me, Billy and Drew are going to a bar and I thought I should invite you to join us.” He leaned on the door frame and crossed his arms. "So. Get ready, darling, let's go and have some fun!" 

"Sorry, I can't, I'm busy."

“Come on, pretty girl, we had so much fun last time!" 

“Tom, I’m sorry. I’m busy, I have guests. We’ll talk later. Bye-bye!” You quickly pushed him out of the doorway and closed the door. 

You walked back to the kitchen.

“Sorry!” You hugged Buggy's neck from behind and kissed his cheek. He turned around. 

"What happened?" You asked, carefully removing your hands from his neck.

"Who was that?" He asked dryly and turned his gaze to you.

“Where? Ah! This is Tom. I told you about him, remember? The guy we lived next door to when we were kids, our parents were friends. Well, somehow we became friends too.”

“Just friends?” He narrowed his eyes.

“Yes, why?" You asked, sitting down on the chair.

“Well, I don’t know. He comes to you almost in the middle of the night to invite you somewhere, calls you a pretty girl. Maybe you have more than just fun spending time with him.”

“What? What are you talking about? I didn’t think about anything bad. He’s cute, of course, but we’re just friends and that’s all.” You took his hand. Buggy looked displeased and pulled his hand out of your hands. 

“Of course he’s cute.” He mumbled. “Did you just go to the bar?” Buggy didn’t take his eyes off you. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You know what I mean. You said he's cute." 

"Oh my god, are you serious? Why are you clinging to words?"

"I'm not!" He rose his voice.

"I'm not making a complaint to you. I could make a claim against you with the same zeal. You generally disappear at sea for months. And taking into account the fact that you have pretty girls in your crew..." You took a sip of rum from the glass. 

"I had nothing like that in my mind, but thanks for the hint." He crossed his arms and leaned on the back of his chair.

"Buggy, are you okay today? Why are you acting like this? I told you he's just a friend. I wanted to spend time with the person I love. Oh, by the way, where is he?" You angrily put an empty glass on the table. 

Buggy was silent for a second. “You started it yourself...” 

“I didn’t start anything.” You took the fork, twirled it in your hands and threw it on the table. “You're the one who got mad for no reason!” 

“So why the hell does he come to you here? He also talks in such a tone. No one has the right to come here at all!” He continued to glare at you.

You looked at him and didn’t know whether to cry or get angry. "Nothing works." You said in a whisper. 

"Nothing works?" Buggy asked in surprise. 

"Our relationship. Nothing works." 

“Sorry, what?" 

“Can't you hear me? Our relationship. It doesn't work like that, Buggy. Relationships are built on trust. I can't do that. You disappear for months, I don't hear anything from you. I don't know if you're alive or dead. Will you come? Or you won't come. Maybe you've already forgotten about me and exchanged me for the first girl you meet in every port. You come when it's convenient only for you, but I don't torment you every time with scenes of jealousy."

"I've asked you a million times to join my crew and stay on the ship with me." He spoke dryly and through clenched teeth.

“And I told you a million times that I can’t stay with you on your ship. At least for now. I have a job, a store, old parents, and friends here.” 

“You’ll see your parents and friends, just less often. What’s the big deal?” He shrugged.

“What's the big deal? I can’t give up everything just because a little grown-up boy wants it so much!” You raised your voice.

"What do you mean?" 

“I can't leave my parents. They are old. Do you understand? They need me. Just because no one cared about you before doesn’t mean my family is like that. We care about each other. They care about me and love me.” You felt your head starting to hurt. “I can't. I just can't. I’m going to sleep." 

Buggy looked at you, not a single muscle moved on his face. “I offered you to live with me. I offered you freedom and the ocean. But apparently, you don't really want to leave with the captain freak. And if you don't want it now, then you'll never want it. It will be better for you to stay with this Tom, am I right?”

“I told you, I don’t want to go on the ship right now. But I wanted to be in a relationship with you. The relationship with you was important to me. But last time I see you once every three to four months and then if I’m lucky. But for some reason, even in this case, you don’t trust me.”

"Wanted? Was important? In the past tense?" He asked in surprised tone.

“I don’t know. Have you noticed that in our last meetings we often quarrel? I’m tired. From scandals. From everything. I thought we would sit and talk. I've been missing you all this time. And now I don't wanna t... I don't know what I want. I wanna sleep.” 

“You suggest that we go to bed or that I should leave your house altogether with the phrase “I’m tired of everything” and “was important? Maybe you'll just say that you're tired of me? Just say you want to leave me. Just like he once left me. Just like everyone always did, everyone abandoned me."

“Oh, no, not again. Have you tried at least once in your life not to blame this Shanks for everything?" You grabbed your head and put your elbows on the table.

Buggy abruptly stood up from the table. 

"You're starting to behave like that again. You know, i think I need.. no.. we need a short rest from each other." 

"Rest? You mean break up?" 

"Rest is rest, Buggy. It's not a breakup.”

The last thing you heard was him slamming the front door.

“Fuck!” You thought. 

[soh1ghschool]

"I know I'll never get it, theres not a day that i wont try"

✧ sorry for the wait on a new fic, i have requests i just havent been up for it. this story is a recycle of an old one i have written for a different person who i dont support anymore. i just changed it up and made it as matt as possible. i hope you enjoy! xx

cw: reader having anxiety, dissociation, super fluffy matt trying to help, fidgeting

wc: 633

✧ last but not least, the title is a lyric from soon you'll get better by taylor swift! (whole song isnt very fitting but i thought the lyric was)

“Hey babe, you alright?” Matt said, looking at his girlfriend who was fidgeting with the remote. Seeing the person he loved often having these little quirks to calm their nerves wasn't bizarre. You do most things like twiddle your thumbs, turn up the TV to a specific volume, and the way you would count when it was just too much for you to handle. Although he picked up on these things, he never realized how to fix it.

You finally perk your head up. “Yes Matty, I’m alright.” You said to the man looking over at you with such worry. You knew he was worried, and you were sure he knew what was wrong.

“Okay, just making sure.” He said before turning to the TV, seeing the volume rise to the number you always chose when you were anxious. It was your favourite number, there wasn’t any way he could’ve missed it. “How about we head to bed, baby. Would that be alright with you?” He asked you so sweetly. He knew that if it was too late you’d start dissociating due to the tiredness slowly taking over your body.

“Sure.” Tiredness slightly showed in your voice when you spoke to him. No seconds were wasted before Matt wrapped his arms around you, carefully picking you up. Soon he made it to your shared bedroom and laid you down, not long after he joined you in bed. Each of you said your goodnights and I love yous before slowly drifting off to sleep.

Matt had gotten up fairly early, he had something to do with his brothers today. He kissed you on your forehead before leaving. He hoped you would text him when you woke up. He spent almost all day with his brothers, not once receiving a text from you. This worried him a bit, so he decided to go home as soon as he finished. He walked into the house and made his way to your bedroom. He saw you there on the bed, still sleeping so peacefully. He didn’t want to disrupt, but he knew he had to.

“Hey honey, you need to get up. It’s almost 2 pm.” He said, lightly shaking your sleeping figure. You hummed slightly, still quite tired. He never realized why you slept so late until he realized why you didn’t sleep at all.

It was a week before he had to go on tour. You dreaded this time because you knew he would be gone for at least a month, sometimes even more. This time made your anxiety worse, you would dissociate even more than before. This meant sleeping less than usual. Matt soon noticed how little you were sleeping and how all the fidgeting got a bit worse. He didn’t wanna leave anymore. He knew if he told you, you would think it was about you and it was your fault.

Even though he wanted to cancel his appearance at the tour, he knew he couldn’t. His fans would be upset, his brothers would be upset, and you would’ve been upset because it would be your fault he cancelled his appearance. He knew you saw how excited he was for this tour. He tried the whole week to try and break you of these habits. He failed to realize it would take more than just a few days.

He insisted you went with him to the airport to see him before he left. He would hope that it would just calm your nerves for a bit. After lots of goodbyes and I love yous, he boarded his plane. He was terrified for how you would be. He made sure to check on you every chance he got, even if that meant staying up at ungodly times of the night to talk to you, or telling some of his friends to go in and watch you.

[slafkovskys]

is there any moment when luke and angel arent together that they end up seeing one another all alone in one room? like i imagine the entire hughes family tries their best for that to not happen when theyre not there with her but … it kind of is inevitable, isnt it?

she can’t deny the pit that forms in her stomach when she sees his car parked in the driveway. she shakes away the feeling, killing the engine and grabbing her bag from the passenger seat before making her way towards the front door because surely he wasn’t- he couldn’t be.

she twists the door knob, staring down at a picture that quinn had sent of drew and jim chilling in a golf cart captioned caddies as she waltzes through like she owned the place. the house was abnormally quiet, ellen’s usual shuffling around absent which causes her to look up and she stops in the middle of the hallway at the sight of him.

they stare at each other for a moment frozen in place. the last time that she had seen luke was from a distance at the cup parade two months before and he looked so different. his hair was a little longer, he had some attempt at facial hair sprouting along his jaw, and his eyes were a little brighter than they had been for the last year. he looked, well, he looked good.

he blinks, the confusion evident on his face as he utters the words, “are you okay?”

“why wouldn’t i be?” she says before realizing that to him at least, she had walked into the house without any warning. it was something that she had grown used to doing over the years, even after their falling out when it was an unspoken rule that whenever she was there, luke would miraculously always have plans. she shakes her head, “no, i- i’m sorry. ellen and i, we were going to go grab some lunch today and i was supposed to meet her here.”

“are you sure that it was today? she just left for some meeting like twenty minutes ago,” luke raises his eyebrows and her face falls. he watches as she pulls out her phone and closes her eyes, letting out a soft fuck. he sends her a soft grin, “let me guess, the plans are for thursday and not today?”

“i’m sorry. i really thought it said tuesday,” she stares at the screen for a second longer as if willing the word to change and when it doesn’t, she looks at the boy again. she lets out a quiet chuckle, “guess i have a free day now. q and j took the babies to the golf course-”

“with my dad?” luke finishes for her. he doesn’t seem bitter, but she could see the flicker of sadness in his eyes. he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, “i figured when i saw him shoving two mini sets of clubs into the back of his car before he left. they’re the only babies he knows- well, the only babies he knows that he spoils like that.”

the two share a laugh at the mere thought of jim trying to coax a golf club into one of the nine month old’s hands. she had already gotten a slew of pictures from the boys, one of wren wearing a glove that was basically the length of her arm and another of drew being balanced by quinn in one arm while he seemed to be teeing up with his free hand to which she immediately called the man and had to be reassured that drew was safely in the golf cart before quinn had even pushed his tee into the ground.

she shifts her weight from foot to foot before clearing her throat, “um, i guess i’ll get going, then. seriously, i’m sorry about this.”

“not as sorry as i am.”

“luke,” she mumbles, eyes shifting to stare at a picture of all three boys when they were kids so she wouldn’t have to look at him, “please-”

“i know, i just wanted you to hear me say it,” he pauses, “you don’t have to forgive me and i don’t expect you to, but if i could just have a chance to explain why i did it-”

“you have a good reason for leaving me during the scariest time of my life and then basically ghosting me?” she questions and she turns her attention back to luke, watching as he visibly deflates. she stares at him, the tension between the two so thick not even a chainsaw could cut through, before she shakes her head, “i’ll never forgive you for what you did to me, to us.”

luke can only nod, letting his eyes drift to the floor.

“come by the house tomorrow afternoon. the boys are done training at one, don’t come before then. the twins usually nap around three so if you want to meet them, get there before then. this is going to be the only time that i even consider hearing what you have to say,” she says and he hangs onto every word, nodding along, “don’t mess it up.”

“i won’t.”

[choicesficwriterscreations]

June Creator of the Month: Thosehallowedhalls

Please welcome this month’s Creator of the Month is @thosehallowedhalls.

Each month, CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers or artists. The writer or artist is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page. Past COTM's can be found here.

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog Masterlist

1- When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played?

I can't remember exactly. 2021, I think? Laws of Attraction was on its tenth chapter.

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

I joined in January of this year. I was upset with Crimes of Passion 2, so I wrote a couple of stories about it. I had deactivated my old Tumblr long ago, so I had to open a new one.

3- How did you pick your blog name?

I love old buildings - the history, the ambiance. I tried hallowedhalls, but it was taken, so I added the article.

4- Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it!

I… have zero recollection of this post. But I'm big on nostalgia and mourning past times, so the fact that this was my first post tracks.

5- Do you write fanfiction, create fan art, or are you one of those really gifted people who do both?

I write fanfiction. I've been teaching myself to draw, but I'm not anywhere near close to sharing what I do.

6- How long have you been creating for Choices and for any other fandoms?

I started writing fanfiction way back in… 2010? For about four or five years. Then I stopped until December 2023.

7- What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to create for?

Crimes of Passion on both counts.

8- Share your first Choices fanfic or fan art that you posted with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were creating it today?

That would be The 2 AM Christmas Tree Farm, inspired by The Midnight Library by Matt Haig. I do still like it, but I would tighten up the writing a bit. I had barely written any fiction for several years at that point, and the lack of practice shows.

9- What is your favorite piece of fiction or art that you created?

I keep going back and forth between The 2 AM Christmas Tree Farm and Home Without. Both are angsty short series.

10- Do you have a fic/art that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to do well but found it could use a little more love?

I was taken aback by the comments on The 2 AM Christmas Tree Farm. I'd posted it on AO3 a few weeks before, and had gotten a handful of kudos and one comment, but within 24 hours of posting it here, I had several lovely reblogs. It was a welcome surprise. Stories with fewer comments… I guess Home Without. The first chapter got quite a bit of love, but by the time the final chapter rolled around, fewer people were interacting.

11- If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?

I love a balance, but I'd say angst with a happy ending. I enjoy the breadth of emotions angst lets you explore.

12 - Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

There are bits and pieces of me in all of them. Emma has my sarcasm, and Raine has my need to look for the best in people. There may be more, but if so, it wasn't done intentionally.

13 - What element of writing/art do you struggle with most?

Perfectionism. Like I said before, the lack of writing practice shows. I know that the only way to get better is to keep writing, but I hate seeing the gap between what I do and what I want to do. Catch-22.

14 - Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

My Sebastyan x Emma fic, Of Cloudless Climes and Starry Skies. There are only a couple of chapters left, but I've been struggling with it for a couple of months now.

15 - If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to see your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you show them first?

Oh, hell no.

16 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing or art? Are there any artists that influence you?

So many writers have influenced my writing throughout the years, including authors I do not currently read. The Brontë sisters, Charles Dickens, Nora Roberts, Jane Austen, Courtney Milan, Alyssa Cole… I could go on and on. Fanfic writers… There are a lot, but off the top of my head, @inlocusmads, @coffeewithcutcaffeine, @gaiuskamilah, @aria-ashryver, @jerzwriter, @dutifullynuttywitch, @aces-and-angels, @petalouda85, and @storyofmychoices. I know there are more.

17- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series?

Home Without. I'm a sucker for good pining, and I'd love to see all that mutual longing play out onscreen - not to mention that reunion.

18- Do you write original fiction or create non-fandom art?

I do. I'm currently working on a horror short story, a MG novel, and a dual timeline mystery that's still in the research stages.

19- What other hobbies do you have?

Reading, non-fandom writing, drawing, learning new things (especially languages!), going on walks, and drinking enough coffee to alarm medical professionals anywhere.

[buffyromanoff]

I dont know anything but I know I miss you

Highschool AU. Natasha Romanoff x reader

Inspired by the Taylor Swift song ''Betty'', requested by @robinandnat (hope u like it!)

Word count: 1063

Summary: School is over and so is y/n and Nat's relationship...or is it?

Warnings: Teen angst, FLUFF, happy ending

Did I make the right choice? Was it truly the best for both of us? Do I still love her? Countless questions raced through your mind, tormenting you as you tried to make sense of your actions. Tears streamed down your face as you hurried home, desperate to avoid anyone seeing you in such a pathetic state. Unfortunately, hiding seemed impossible.

Whispers filled the hallways, making it clear that you weren't very good at hiding your pain. Thank god today was the last day of school cause there was no way you could survive having everyone’s eyes on you. 

Nat was everything you could have ever asked for. She had this incredible way of caring for you, making you laugh, and being so incredibly smart. And let's not forget how she'd always lend a helping hand with your homework. She was the kind of girlfriend who had your back no matter what. But deep down, you couldn't help but feel like a piece of crap. How could you break her heart like this? You kept telling yourself it was for her own good, but the question tormented you: Was it really?

Lately you've been going through a strange phase, and despite Nat's unwavering support, you pushed her away. It's tough to be in a relationship when you don't even know yourself well enough, so, you convinced yourself she'd be better off without you.

As the weeks went by, you couldn't shake the overwhelming feeling of missing her. You'd ask your mutual friends how she was doing, desperately seeking any news. At first, she was devastated, just like you, but somehow she managed to hold it together better than you did. Your closest friends couldn't fathom why you broke it up. "You and Nat were made for eachother y/n! You totally deserve her!" they'd say trying to lift up your confidence and self esteem. Little did they know, there was a secret you never shared, not even with Nat herself. It all started when you accidentally overheard her friends gossiping about you during lunch. They all agreed that you weren't up to Nat's level, and unfortunately, those words stabbed you in the heart.

Suddenly your phone rang. It was a text message from your mutual friend Wanda:

-I was at Nat’s today helping her set everything up for tonight and y/n……….she wouldn't shut up about you -

-Tonight? What are talking about? - You texted her, but Wanda was known for her late replies.

Your day went on as usual.

Summer used to be your favorite part of the year, but they were no fun without a lover.

Trying to distract yourself, you started the daunting task of tidying up your chaotic bedroom.  This was your first real breakup and you were not handling it well.

As you were about to finish cleaning everything up, you found a  neatly wrapped package.

What was in it? You had no clue. You opened it up and now everything made sense.

NATASHA’S BIRTHDAY PARTY!.

Months ago, you had tirelessly scoured every library in town looking for an old copy of a vintage book your then-girlfriend wanted but wasn't finding anywhere. You sighed. You were saving it for her birthday. How unfortunate.

Your phone buzzed: It was Wanda, finally:

-Bday party dummy. Dont tell me you forgot :/ she really misses you btw-

‘’Fuck it’’ you muttered. And without giving it much of a thought, you put on your best outfit and hopped on your skateboard, heading straight for the party.

When you passed by her house, you couldn't breathe. The house was packed with people- her friends, including those who believed you weren't right for her. What were you doing here!? Go back! Go back!- Nervousness took over your body, causing you to trip and fall off your skateboard. And of course, people laughed.

When you stood up, you saw Nat standing on the porch of her house, looking at you.

She appeared…happy?

‘y/n…I- what are you doing here?’’ she asked, attempting to hide her smile, yet her eyes sparkled with delight.

‘Happy birthday’’ you said, handing her the gift. The sheer joy on her face made you grin like a fool as she opened it.

"Oh my god! Where—how did you find it? Thank you, y/n...I don't know what to say’’.

"You’re welcome Natty’’. Wait- did you really just call her that? Who refers to their ex with a pet name?. "Well, um, have a good night, Nat." You reached for your skateboard, ready to make your exit, but she stopped you.

‘Wait!’’. She sounded desperate. ‘’You don't have to go, it doesn't have to be like this. I know you don't like me anymore but-’’ . She sniffled. ‘I miss you....please stay?’’.

Natasha didn't hate you. Natasha missed you. SHE MISSED YOU.

Your heart was racing, everyone was watching the scene and you knew there were only 2 ways this could end: You could walk away or…

In a bold move, you dropped your skateboard and, cupping her face in your hands, you kissed her.

The wooing noises and teasing remarks from her friends were making you so embarrassed but you didn't care. Nothing mattered. No one’s thoughts did. The only thing that mattered is that you loved Nat and she loved you.

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

As the party came to an end, you found a quiet moment to sit down and have a heartfelt conversation with her.

"I'm sorry I didn't notice my friends saying those things, y/n," she expressed, clearly upset.

"What? Baby, no, it's not your fault," you reassured her, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes. "I was the one who closed off and failed to communicate what I was going through... and it led to hurting you."

"Okay, hold on, no crying on my birthday," Nat interrupted, laughing softly as she gently wiped away your tears. Leaning in, she pressed a sweet kiss against your cheek. "We're together now," she whispered, her arms wrapping you in a warm embrace. "Everything will be alright, sweetie."

You mumbled a response, your voice barely audible. "What was that, hon?"  her eyes filled with curiosity. "Did you like my present then?" You said.

She nodded with a smile spreading across her face. "Yes, but I like this one even more," she confessed, tightening her embrace.

Oh, how you’d missed her.