#my baby girl is a month old today 💕 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

joelscruff · 7 months ago

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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.

#frankie morales fic #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x triple frontier boys #PPCUGiftExchange2024 #frankie morales x reader #*

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dc418writes · 2 months ago

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Trial & Error

Summary🪄: Joel tries to help you get some rest

🚨: no outbreak!Joel, minor age gap (reader is late 20s, Joel is mid 30s), AU with no Sarah (pls don’t hate me 🫣) pretty much all fluff💕

A/N🎤: this is my submission to @beefrobeefcal ‘s Married Joel Sat on Me challenge (please check out the other works and/or submit your own if you’d like☺️!), and I hope you guys like what I came up with✨

*DISCLAIMER!: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were all found via Pinterest. Although my writings are imagined with a black reader, anyone can read and enjoy😌*

“Baby,” Joel drawls in that deep voice smooth like silk that always makes you melt, “you should be sleeping.” His lips sweetly press against your forehead after carefully tilting your head back so your doe eyes would be on him.

He wasn’t surprised to see your silhouette through the front curtains as his black pickup pulled in the driveway. The living room illuminated with flashes of blue as you watched something he couldn’t quite tell - if he had to guess, probably one of baby Morgan’s favorite shows you tended to play so she could calm down.

It had been a bit of a habit now with your newfound insomnia. And having to take care of a sick five-month-old while being under the weather yourself didn’t help.

“I’m not tired though.” Even upside down, it was obvious to see the exhaustion in those pretty features that had him addicted from the first time he saw you. The darkened puffiness under your eyes. The dull look to your usually bright skin.

“But you need sleep. The past couple days you’ve only been gettin three, maybe four hours.” Although calm, you could feel his concern. Knew he was stressed that his two girls were dealing with things he couldn’t seem to help with. Especially not with this new house taking up all his time.

“I don’t know what else to do.” You sigh, leaning your head on his shoulder as he sits beside you draping his arm around the back of the dark sectional. Any other time, his overall presence along with the warmth emanating from his wood and leather scented skin would have you relaxed enough that you could easily find rest. Now it was just one of a long list of futile attempts.

“Wanna try those sleep gummies again?”

“I think my body’s used to it since it didn’t work that first night.”

His deep hum rumbles under your fingertips on his sternum. “Tea?”

You shake your head, “Being sick made me all tea’d out. Plus I think the chamomile’s gone.”

“Could always try warm milk?,” he suggests with a slight grin. He already knew your answer, but he loved watching your cute, button nose crinkle in disgust.

“I’d rather be knocked over the head,” you answer making your husband deeply chuckle. ��Let’s face it, this is just how things are for now. I’ve tried pretty much everything.”

Joel wasn’t one to easily accept defeat though thanks to his stubborn nature.

“I uh was talkin’ about it with a buddy on the job. He mentioned something about a..weighted blanket? Said it works for his kid so I tried to find one at the store, but the lady said they’re all out for now.”

Tilting your head up, a soft smile curls along your lips meeting Joel’s cocoa gaze focused on you. It shouldn’t be anything surprising at this point of your relationship, - being together for three years and married for two - but you can’t help how your heart flutters at how caring he could be. If a certified cure was revealed today or tomorrow, you know he’d make a way to be the first in line.

Leaning forward, you peck his lips once before moving to his bearded jaw, “Thank you for trying.”

His mouth finds yours again easily sliding your hips, with his thick hands, to sit across his lap making you giggle between each nip and press of your lips against his. “I’ll stop by tomorrow to check again. Try that other store across town too.”

As if feeling left out from all the love, Morgan first whimpers then cries from her nursery just off from the living room. You mentally groan dreading how long it’ll take to get her back to sleep.

“I got her,” Joel states leaving a last kiss on your forehead. “You try to rest.”

“No it’s okay, I got her. Plus I’ll have to check her temp-,”

His hands only tighten on your hips preventing you from standing. “Baby I can do it. Relax.”

“What if she’s hungry?”

“I can warm a bottle.”

“I can at least help though,” you pout trying to wiggle free. Instead, you’re manhandled to lie down with your husband sitting on your lower back and butt pressing you into the plush cushions. Turning your upper body as much as you could, your eyebrows slightly furrow in shock and amusement while Joel just crosses his arms as if you’re now permanently part of the furniture. “J-Joel! Wha-?”

“Ya left me no choice. It was the only way I could get you to stay.”

“By crushing me with your big ass?!”

You could be so dramatic. “Hey, this big ass is your fault,” he laughs. “Fillin’ me up with all that food and pastries.”

Marriage had been good to Joel. His mental health and financial stability had improved, and he seemed overall a happier person. The only drawback seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline. His once toned abdomen now a pleasant pouch and thighs a bit thicker causing him to go up a size in his jeans - and even then they still hugged tight.

Not that you minded. You loved Joel’s new ‘dad bod’ just as much as his more slender form. Sometimes even more as you watched him get ready for work or walk around in his sweatpants as he carried and played with Morgan. If it wasn’t for your current situation, you might even be pregnant with baby number two you were so attracted to him.

“Sure, it’s my fault and not that burger and fries you get every day for lunch,” you playfully huff trying to shimmy your way from his hold.

He slightly tilts his head from left to right knowing you had a point, “Alright fair.” Eventually, you finally submit to the fact you weren’t leaving letting your arms extend in front of you. And dare you say, it even began to feel comfortable. “Now, if I get up I trust you’re gonna stay here?”

“Yes seeing that my back is broken,” you reply rolling your eyes. That earns you a warning - yet always playful - smack to the back of your thigh as he stands now leaving you to the cold, open air. “Good girl. I’ll be right back.”

The softest of smiles forms of your lips rolling onto your back to watch him happily stride to tend to his baby girl. “Hey love bug! How ya feelin huh?” Her cries instantly silence into hiccups as soon as she’s lifted to lie on his chest. She even babbles as if having a full conversation while he presses the back of his hand to her forehead. “No fever that’s good.”

A certain, familiar smell clues Joel to what the issue is though. “We gotta get this diaper off you babygirl,” he states moving to lie her on the changing table. “That’ll make you feel better right?” It’s like she understands every word reaching her chubby arms up with a short giggle. They grow into excited squeals as Joel takes turns blowing raspberries onto her bare stomach and tickling that spot under her chin between cleaning her up with baby wipes.

Such a daddy’s girl through and through.

It takes maybe ten minutes more of coos mixed with rocking and bouncing before Joel has her asleep again; carefully lowering her into her crib for the night. ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ playing on a low, constant loop from her star projector to make sure she stays that way as he eases out her room and shuts the door behind him.

His ebony eyes are trained on you now padding the short distance to the couch and leaning over your body. That one curl at the top of his head tipping forward. “Alright, your turn princess.”

You only lift your arms with a smile letting him lift you over his broad shoulder to carry you down the hall to your shared bedroom. Luckily you’re already in your pajamas when you gently flop against the brown comforter. He leaves you to get comfortable - shifting under the covers and wiggling to find that sweet spot - while he discards his clothes in the bathroom to shower and brush his teeth.

In a few minutes, he’s appearing through the misty doorway with wet almond strands still trying to dry and a pair of black boxer briefs over his hips. The little “ooh” that slips from your lips as he slides into bed makes him furrow his brows in confusion while you twist to lie on your stomach reaching back to pat your bottom. “I got an idea.”

“Yeah?,” he smirks wetting his bottom lip. “We definitely haven’t tried that before.”

“Jesus, get your mind out the gutter. I mean crush me again,” you laugh.

Although he scoffs in faux offense, he still does as you say positioning himself so half his body covers yours and long leg nearly straddles your back. His nose mere centimeters from yours blowing steady streams of air as you practically share your pillow. “What’s your plan here?”

“Well, until we find one, I was thinking..maybe you could be my weighted blanket,” you shyly explain. “I know it’s probably dumb, but earlier-,”

“Worth a try,” Joel winks closing the small gap to peck your nose then lips. His fingertips tracing soothing lines back and forth along your neck.

For a while, you both just lied there talking about your respective days or whatever came to mind. Around one in the morning, Joel could see your blinks become slower and slower until it was an apparent struggle to keep your eyes open. Your words even beginning to slur and answers sound like adorable nonsense.

You hadn’t even realized you eventually drifted off until the next morning when you were woken up by Morgan’s cries through the monitor. The sun shining a bright golden hue through the crack in the curtains.

A note on the nightstand is the first to catch your attention - clearly written by your husband from the tilted and slightly mushed together handwriting - making you tiredly smile.

‘Glad to see you got some rest xx’

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #Joel miller x woc #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller au #the last of us #pedro pascal characters #Pedro pascal #joel sat on me 2024

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reiderwriter · 10 months ago

Text

My Love Is Mine All Mine

Week 2 of my Playlist series 🎧💕

Summary: Spencer Reid always liked broken things, but you didn't think you could be fixed. Maybe all you needed was understanding and companionship.

Warnings: slight angst, case details mentioned - misogyny, kidnapping, etc, but no graphic/ explicit details. Hurt/Comfort.

A/N: Tumblr, please let me post haha I've been good, I promise 🙏 This fic is so late because I've been having some technical issues with tumblr and it has greatly annoyed me, so hopefully if you're seeing this it's been fixed? Who knows... Thank you to everyone who has sent in songs so far for the Playlist series, I'll be cresting the playlist today and posting it for everyone to see and use!

Masterlist || Series Playlist

Falling for Spencer Reid wasn't in your plan for the new year, but looking back, it was probably something that was just bound to happen.

He'd been the first person to show you any kindness after everything you went through, the first person who hadn't put their own rigid horror at your past before their attempts at sympathy.

You watched the way people recoiled from you as you told them - bluntly, you had to be blunt - what the man in the cabin had done to you.

He listened to your words, didn't interrupt, didn't quietly shake in anger, and refuse to meet your eyes like your father did, didn't weep for her baby like your mother did. He took your hand as it shook. He held your gaze.

It was his job to ask questions, but there weren't many left to answer.

The only reason you were alive was because his team had tracked the string of bodies to your kidnappers home. You were alive because one of his coworkers had put a bullet through his head, ending your nightmare.

The very idea of love was repulsive to you as you emerged from that basement in the first days of the next year, and you remembered thinking the snow looked fresh and soft. You remembered wanting to lay in it, to wrap it around yourself like a warm blanket and drift into sleep. The cold ground would be as much comfort as you would allow yourself.

Because after everything, you knew you didn't deserve love.

You accepted understanding from him, though.

When the shock wore off, you were awash in all the misery inflicted upon you. You raged, kicked, screamed, broke things, and made people uncomfortable. Nothing would numb the pain of being trapped inside your head, your head still trapped inside that basement, that cage.

He came to visit you at the hospital. The nurses had given up on you, were content you were physically healing, and that they had technically done their job but not bothered by your deteriorating mental state. Some days, you swore that they pierced your skin in the wrong places purposefully, not even searching for your vein.

But then he was there, with a book and a chess board, and he'd asked you if you'd ever played before.

“No. Chess always seemed too…” You swallowed the bile that drowned your lungs and tried again. “Before, it was boring. An old person game, too many rules. Now… He said we shouldn't do things like this. Said we shouldn't cultivate our minds.”

It was a confession again, but one that took a weight off your shoulders, and not one that pushed it further down.

“Would you like to learn?” His tone was so soft and awkward, like a teenage boy asking a girl out on a first date, that you almost giggled.

“I'll be honest and say you'll never beat me, I've played through most board combinations, including a large proportion of the 10^80 theorised checkmate positions, so if you'd rather do something else, that's fine, or I can leave, too, if… you'd… prefer?”

You had laughed then, a thing that bubbled up from the pit of your stomach and left your shoulders shaking as you gasped for breath doubled over.

You'd been in hell for six months, and he'd drawn you out of it for a few moments by rambling about chess.

“Are you a patient person, Doctor Reid?”

“I think so.”

“Then set up the board and let's play.”

He beat you every time, obviously, but you enjoyed his small explanations of the moves, and you did improve slightly.

More than that, you enjoyed his company. It wasn't that you talked extensively In your hospital room, oscillating between your lowest point and somewhere just a rung above that where the snow was falling and the air was fresh, but that he never looked at you the way others did.

You were discharged and were sad to lose that small glimmer of normality. He'd come twice a week throughout January, and now you were back in your usual shape. You were being discharged, and so that would end.

You were surprised that he came to pick you up from the hospital the day you left.

The parents who had looked everywhere for you for half a year hadn't wanted to, and the close friends from before hadn't spared you a thought since reposting your missing poster on their social media pages.

But the man you played chess with twice a week, the man who'd carried you out of hell himself was there.

“Ready to go?” You nodded, dumbstruck, and followed as he grabbed your bag.

You weren't exactly sure where it was you were going, but you followed the man anyway, only a small part of your brain shouting in protest considering the last time you'd been blindly trusting.

He led you back to an apartment with some bare furnishings but a large window and a warm soft blanket covering the bed. It wasn't his, but yours.

“Your parents are paying for it. They're taking the city to court due to the circumstances. Apparently, there were numerous phone calls to law enforcement that went unnoticed, but the city is looking to settle, so you don't have to worry about rent for a while, maybe ever again. The WiFi is all set up, hot water is working, and so is the heating. The locks are triple enforced, and I'm right down the hall, so if you need-”

“What?”

He blinked at you and suddenly, looking sheepish, as if becoming aware that he'd presumed a friendship between the two of you without consulting you first.

“I live down the hall.”

You stared at each other for a few moments as you processed his words. He lived down the hall. He'd driven you to your new home, set everything up for you, and he lived down the hall.

“You're a good man, Spencer Reid.” You whispered, turning away to not let the moment linger anymore than it already had.

Chess nights became routine. You'd set up the board and play for an hour or two or until you were sick of losing.

Gradually, though, the nights got longer. He'd arrive just as you were eating a meal, and you'd invite him to join you, or he'd bring along takeaway and you'd eat quietly together, talking about everything and nothing.

One day, you'd mentioned a film. A popular one, one you'd loved as a child and still rewatched to this day.

“I've never seen it, is it good?” He'd said. And in your shock, you jumped up and sent half the chessboard flying.

“Well, it seems that now our game is over, that we have time to give you an education, Doctor Reid.”

“I have three PhD's-”

“And still you haven't seen Clueless?”

You'd pulled him over to the couch he'd picked out for you, loaded up the movie and then invented a new tradition.

Chess nights and film nights were separate days of the week. So he could always promise to be around for one of them even if he had to miss the other because of work.

You didn't ask him about his job anymore. He saved people like you, and you didn't need to be thinking about people like you too much.

What they went through, if they survived physically. If they survived in other ways.

He always visited you first when he returned, though. There would be a knock on your door at some point in the day or night, and he'd let you know he was home safe.

Another tradition. You'd opened the door to let him in the first time he'd returned from a case after you moved in, and he'd leaned down and wrapped his arms around you.

You heard the breath of relief, loud and emotional, and hadn't quite realised it had come from you until a few minutes later. Some part of you had thought he wouldn't come back.

Now, every time he came home, you ran to the door and quietly comforted each other, reminding the other that no matter what happened, you were both there for each other.

You weren't sure when traditions and movies turned into love or if it had lingered over you the entire time. You didn't think you could love someone right then, your heart broken into small pieces with the torment you'd suffered.

But it was stitched back together with pieces of him still lodged inside. He was in the very fabric of your being as you became whole again.

The truth was that you most likely couldn't find love again because there was no room in your heart for anyone else. And you'd never be able to reschedule chess nights to go on dates anyway.

You weren't sure if Spencer ever figured out how much of hum you carried around with him, how your eyes followed his lips as he ran through decades of memories to give you the fact he thought would please you the most. You weren't sure if he loved you as much as you did him until you were.

You'd agreed to watch one of his movies for a change, agreeing to stop the streak of 80s brat pack classics to watch a black and white war film from Russia with no subtitles. You'd sat together on that couch under blankets you'd bought together months earlier, and he'd pulled you in closer.

“I want to watch the movie and translate at the same time. You should sit here.” He'd pulled you into his lap, letting your back fall against his chest as his lips fell to your ears, and he began to whisper.

Sitting there so closely, so intimately, was almost torture. Unconsciously, your head tipped back with his words, displaying your neck and shoulders, silently willing his lips to drift even once. His arms wrapped around your waist, and you did your best not to squirm the entire movie, but with your heart beating out of your chest, it was a hopeless cause.

“Did you enjoy it?” He whispered as the credits rolled, but you hadn't even noticed the movie had ended. It wasn't until the silence that followed his question stretched out notably that you came back to reality. You couldn't answer, in fact. You gaped for a few short moments, hoping something vague but accurate enough would just pop into your mind.

As you attempted to negotiate yourself out of distraction, you turned your face to his, but he was closer than you thought.

Your noses touched, and your breaths mingled. His arms still wrapped around your waist, and your blankets still anchored you to one another.

“I wasn't paying attention to the movie, Spencer. I'm sorry.” The words came out of you so fast, yet so quietly that you were surprised yourself how honest you had chosen to be.

“Why not?” He asked, eyes having drifted sleepily down to gaze at your lips.

You didn't answer his question but felt your cheeks flush red. You thought about pulling away, moving back, or at least laughing everything off, but you didn't. You stayed there, still like a deer in headlights.

“Your voice was too distracting,” You forced some of the tension out of your body and let your head fall against his shoulder again, hoping this moment wouldn't end anytime soon.

“Distracting?” He sounded concerned and shifted in his seat, lifting you up from your happy place in his arms until you were again face to face. “Did I make you uncomfortable?”

The look on his face was so concerned and focused that you had to pause for a second to catch your breath. He cared about your comfort so much and paid attention to each word that came out of your mouth. He wanted your happiness more than anything in the world.

“No. I'm never uncomfortable with you, Spencer.” You were back to whispering now, hands floating up to grab his own, fidgeting by his sides. You bought them up to your face and guided his hands to your cheeks, needing to show him just how comfortable you were with him in actions, not just words. Words could be dishonest. Actions were honest.

His concern melted away as he began stroking your cheek with his thumb, smiling sweetly at you.

Though you were both content, you'd never been quite this intimate before. So when his thumb swiped over the corner of your lips, your eyes both caught on each other. You could see him weighing up the outcomes in his head, going back and forth between pulling away and pushing in closer.

Slowly and softly, as though he were trying not to startle you, his head moved closer until his lips were on yours.

It was a quiet kiss. You wouldn't describe it as fireworks, or butterflies, or anything loud and grand and passionate. It was quiet, and it was right.

He pulled away seconds later, trying to gauge your reaction, but you followed him away and kissed him again.

When you finally pulled away, it took you a few seconds to realise you'd climbed back into his lap, unconsciously having moved closer to him. You guiltily looked up, waiting to see any discomfort on his features, but to your surprise, he was busy straightening out your hair.

“I love you, Spencer,” you whispered as he took care of you. He smiled, looking down at you once again, pulling his arms around you to gently lower both of you down to a laying position on your couch.

“I love you, too,” he said as you held each other and drifted into contented sleep.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid hurt/comfort

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ribbonprincess · 6 months ago

Note

hi love, please ignore if you don’t like this request! After seeing drew and Liliana I was thinking about nanny/ babysitter x drew in Charleston. I would prefer smut but ignore if your not comfortable with it 💕

note: this has been sitting in my inbox for sooo long,I'm so sorry I just couldn't find inspo for it. Also got lost in it and made it super long. Reader has a tongue piercing

🪐࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

you're sitting with Drew on the patio outside the house,his sister Mackeyla went out with her husband for the day, so she left Liliana with you and Drew. You met through mutual friends that you both don't talk to anymore and since you like babies she asks to babysit Lili sometimes; so now you find yourself next to her brother who you may have a crush on.

"Keyla didn't tell me you were over today ya know, thought it was gonna be only me and Lili" "yeah...I thought the same actually" you chuckle,looking over at him as you eye each other with a knowing smile "she set us up!" It comes out at the same moment making you both laugh as the realization hits "I can't believe her" you shake your head at the thought,using your palm as a headrest. "well,guess we should make the most out of it then" Drew says, eyeing your sundress clad body,it was nothing crazy since you were looking after a 8 months old baby but it had incredibly hot in South Carolina so it was the best option if you didn't want to melt.

"Like what?" your eyebrows are furrowed as you smile softly at him "don't know...I would love getting to know you better,Keyla has said great things about you" "oh- did she? I hope so.." His body is slowly shifting closer to you,making the two-seater swing move slightly. "I like your perfume" he says,running a fingertip over the skin of your forearm "thank you" your answer comes out way breathier than you intend to but the feeling of his touch is way too affecting. His hand is slowly moving over your face,running over your shoulder and the curve of your neck where he stops for a second before he cups your cheek with a gentle smile.

"mind if I kiss you?" he whispers,already leaning in as you nod. His lips find yours as you lay a hand over his chest and the other on his shoulder "you taste like Cherries" he mumbles, grabbing your waist to manoeuvre you on his lap "I like it." Your hands are running all over his figure,over his buzzed head and then back down his biceps before they settle on holding on his neck. "I would love- to take you out on a date before this" he's pulling away from your mouth, making you almost whine before you're immediately shut by his lips finding their way over your neck "but I think I might go crazy if I don't feel you Immediately." His words are making you grin from ear to ear as they travel right down your core.

A pair of rough hands set the moves of your hips over the bulge in his jeans,making you moan as the material rubs just right against your cotton clad pussy. "gotta be quiet doll, we're outside and Lili is sleeping -she could wake up any moment" "shit,yeah yeah...I'll be quiet" you reply,knowing damn well it won't happen. One of Drew's hands moves southwards,running over your thigh before disappearing under your skirt immediately finding your mound. His index finger runs over the wet patch of your underwear before rubbing slow but firm circles over your clit "can I take these off, gorgeous?" His voice is soft,making you melt even more against his chest "hmhm.." "I need words,love" "yeah, please" He quickly presses a kiss to your temple muttering a "good girl" under his breath as he pushes your panties down your legs before pocketing them "gotta keep these for memory."

His words make you almost roll your eyes,but before you can even think about it one of his fingers is passing through your walls "there you go...'s fucking warm,hm" the way he's groaning against your collarbone makes you think he's the one getting pleasured. He quickly pushes another finger in finding a steady rhythm as they curl nicely against that sweet spongy spot. "god,you look gorgeous" He quickly undoes the bows holding the straps of your dress, revealing your chest to him "won't you look at these,fucking beautiful" he mumbles,wrapping his mouth around one of your nipples as his fingers continue to move in and out of you deliciously.

"fuck-" your voice is muffled,biting into his neck probably leaving an imprint behind as he adds another finger in making you clench around him as you feel yourself getting closer. "you're making such sweet noises,princess. You're getting there hm? You can let go,I'm right here" His lips move away from your breasts, trailing over your neck before they slot themselves back on yours "you're doing so good,just need you to cum for me sweet girl" His words are sending you down a spiral as you grind into his palm,his thumb rubbing circles over the tiny bundle of nerves as your moans start get more louder "cumming" your body shake over him for a long second before you fall completely still over him "good girl...feel much better huh,gonna clean me up?" he smirks, rubbing his sticky fingers over your bottom lip.

Your tongue rolls out to wrap around the digits,tasting yourself as you clean him off "fuck- what's that? you got a piercing I don't know about?" he raises an eyebrow once he pulls his fingers out of your mouth "well,shit...you gonna show me what you can do with it-" Your figure is already moving off the swing and between his legs before a loud cry from inside reminds you of the baby "well,guess that's gotta wait" you smile,standing up on shaky legs as you enter the house,feeling Drew's eyes bore into your skill.

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holdmytesseract · 1 year ago

Text

Time To Get A Grip [EoH]

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: After returning home from a nightshift and finding your boyfriend stoned on the sofa, you lose it. Given the fact that he becomes a father soon, it's time for him to finally get a grip.

Warnings: Major trigger warning here! swear words, mentions of alcohol, drugs and smoking, drug consumption, pregnancy things, drama, a fight, angst, bit of blood, fluff, age gap

Gotta rate this story 18+, just in case!

Pre-Apocalypse Era!

Word Count: 3,2k

a/n: You chose and I am here to deliver! 😁 Well... I had this idea - and wrote it. It fitted perfectly into Daryl's, Y/N's and Teddy's story, so... But it's also quite a bit heavy. I never wrote something like this before.

Special thanks to @fictive-sl0th for encouraging me and loving my Daryl fics! Love ya, friend! 💕

Also, I apologise to all the Merle fans. Sorry, guys! 🙈

Tagging: @km-ffluv @stitchintimefan @sweetpeapod @loz-3 @peaches1958 @fictive-sl0th @lou12346789 @fuseburner @hotgirlsshareaccounts @in-this-minute @eddiemunsonsupremecy @mrbrownstne

Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

Releasing a big yawn; you closed the locker with the number thirteen painted on, and slipped the key - which was attached to a key ring, inside the pocket of your jeans. With a sigh you grabbed your bag and made your way towards the exit of the changing room. "By girls, see you on Monday!" You said goodbye to your coworkers; smiling. They bid their goodbyes as well; waving and smiling.

Taking a deep breath, you left the room and the big building behind yourself and stepped out on the streets of Gainesville; the bright morning sun almost blinding you.

Working as a nurse in a hospital wasn't always easy. Especially the night shift. But working as a nurse in a hospital at night, being almost eighteen weeks pregnant was even less easy - and so very exhausting. As soon as I'm five months in, I'm quitting this shit, you told yourself. Only day shifts from then on. The thing was, you told yourself that already from the start. From the very day you found out you were pregnant. It was a lie which repeated itself month after month. You knew that it wasn't good to work night shift after night shift. Not for you, nor for the baby. But you practically had no other chance. Being alive was expensive. Food was expensive. Having a roof over your head was expensive. Even if it was just a small apartment in one of the endless, old and quite ragged apartment blocks in downtown Gainesville. It was even more expensive, when you are the only one earning the needed money. And soon, you were going to have not only two mouths to feed, but three. Every day you hoped for a change to come - but it wasn't easy. Oh no.

You shook your head slightly and took another deep breath, in order to get yourself out of your thoughts and your sleepy brain to focus.

After you checked your surroundings, you crossed the front yard of the hospital and made your way to the bus station. All you wanted to do now was going home, crash on your bed and sleep at least until late afternoon. Your body wanted that as well. You knew that, of course. Hence, you had almost slept in on the bus and missed your stop! Luckily, your hazy brain reminded you to stand up in the last second.

Waiting until the bus rolled past you, you crossed the street and walked the last meters to the building in which your apartment was. It was just a few blocks down the road. At least the weather is nice today, you thought; looking up into the sky.

You unlocked the old main door, which led into the big staircase and started to climb the steps, leading up to the third floor. On your way, you met a familiar face - unfortunately. "Oh, good morning, Mrs. Jefferson."

Elsie Jefferson. The typical, critical bitter old lady next door, who everybody knew. Husband long dead and owner of at least ten cats. She was utterly nosy and curious about anything and everything. You couldn't stand her since the day she decided to interfere in your affairs. It was your life, not hers - but Mrs. Jefferson didn't care of course. And sometimes, you had the feeling that she did this all on purpose, because she liked you just as little.

"Ah, good morning, Y/N." She had just left her apartment; wearing those old slippers she always wore. A trash bag was in her hand. Apparently, she was just on her way to take out the trash - and you had the perfect timing to run straight into her. Great.

"Coming home from a night shift?" "Mhm, yep." You had absolutely no intention to talk to her, but you also couldn't be so rude to just walk away. The older woman shook her head. "Young lady, young lady... You should stop doing that. Now that you are pregnant." Not that again. "I know, but it's my decision. I'm okay with it. I'm used to it." Mrs. Jefferson shook her head again; rebukingly. You already wanted to walk past her; thinking that the conversation was over - but for her, it wasn't. You should've known. "Does your chaotic mess of a boyfriend still has no job?" You clenched your jaw. You hated it - absolutely hated it, when she brought Daryl up in those stupid conversations. All she wanted was to sting you and throw mud at him - just because he was how he was.

Gritting your jaw, you tried to smile at her. "He's at it." You didn't reveal more. While should you? "So no." She concluded, before stepping closer to you. "Chit... You should get rid of him." "I don't think so, ma'am. He's the father of my child." You tried to argue, but Mrs. Jefferson didn't even listen to you, just continued to speak ill of Daryl. "That man is not good for you and brings nothing but trouble. Just look at his messed-up family! His abusive, alcoholic father! His mother, who was a chain-smoker! And don't get me even started on his brother! Violence, alcohol, drugs... Wasn't he even in the prison only a few years back?" She exclaimed. "Daryl Dixon is toxic, Y/N - and way too old for you... Do you really think he's better than the rest of his family? Do you really think he can change? Turn into a better person?"

Hearing all those foul and judgemental words leaving the older lady's mouth, caused anger and sadness to flow your veins. How dare she? How dare? You had a hard time to keep yourself calm and not snap at her. The raging pregnancy hormones within your body didn't quite help the situation. Closing your eyes for a moment, you took a deep breath. "Yes, I believe exactly that. I love this man - and that's all that matters. Have a nice day, Mrs. Jefferson." With those words you walked past her; continuing to climb the stairs. But of course, she had one more bombshell to drop on you... "You should've never let him get yourself pregnant. Dixon isn't made to be a father." You ignored her and moved on; mumbling under your breath: "That's what mum said as well..."

You tried to calm yourself down on the rest of the way and erase what just happened from your memories. You didn't have the nerves to deal with that woman. Not today. Not after an exhausting night shift and three times of throwing up in the staff toilets - no.

You climbed the last few steps and headed straight for the quite rickety door, which led into yours - and somehow Daryl's apartment.

Relieved, you closed the door behind yourself. Finally at home. Thank god. Throwing your keys on the small shelf beside the main door, you took off your shoes and jacket. You didn't anticipated Daryl to be home. Not after he had told you Wednesday morning, that he'd go out with his brother. You knew exactly what 'go out' meant. But who were you to stop him? God knows you had tried. Several times. But well... Blood is thicker than water.

Given that fact, you were quite surprised, when you found him in the living room; passed out onto the couch. A smile crossed your face; knowing that he was here - but it faded quickly, when you noticed the condition he was in. Daryl was laying on his stomach; one arm dangling over the edge of the sofa. One sleeve of his yellow-black checkered shirt was ripped off, while the other was still intact. When you squatted down beside him, a wave of cold smoke hit you; coming undoubtedly from his clothes. Daryl's breathing was heavy; sweat dotted his face and presumably his whole body as you noticed further. Some dried, crusty blood was smeared across the skin underneath his nose - and you knew. You knew. You weren't blind. And a nurse. You could tell when somebody was stoned - or well, had been stoned.

It didn't happen often - luckily. It was already enough that Merle made him to consume alcohol way too often. Making him to take drugs was an entirely different story. And you hated Merle for it. Yes, he was strictly spoken family, but the impact he had on his little brother was way too big. The worst part of it was, that Daryl didn't even defend himself.

Seeing your boyfriend in this condition caused the anger, sadness and frustration you had just swallowed down to come up again. Twice as hard. You stood up and crossed your arms; looking down on him.

"Daryl. Wake up." No reaction. "Daryl." You nudged him softly with your knee, earning a low growl. Like already said... You didn't have the nerves to deal with shit like that today. "Daryl fucking Dixon!" You yelled then, causing the man to flinch and immediately wake up. "What the fuck do you think you're doing, huh?!" He groaned again and moved to sit up; pinching the bridge of his nose. His sweat soaked shirt on full display; short blonde-brown hair as messed up as it could be. "What'd ya mean, hon?" He slurred; still trying to wake up properly. "Oh no no, don't pull that card, Daryl. Don't 'hon' me. You know exactly what I'm talking about!"

Your boyfriend rubbed his face and ran a hand through his hair, before reddened eyes looked up to meet your Y/E/C ones. "Merle, uh, Merle's got this new, uh, dealer and-" "Forced you to try the 'good stuff', I know." You finished his sentence. "What was it." He didn't answer, just looked at the ground. "That wasn't a question, Daryl. It was a demand. Tell me." He still didn't talk. You stepped closer and rather harshly pushed his left shoulder. "Tell me! What did you snort?!" Daryl swallowed visibly; once again avoiding eye contact. "Jus' a bit Crystal Meth."

You gasped audibly; jaw dropping. "Crystal Meth? Crystal Meth?! Fucking hell, Daryl! That's one of the most dangerous drugs!" Sure, he wasn't stoned anymore, but undoubtedly dealing with the aftermath. And the drug caused his already quite short fuse to be even shorter. He was more irritable. You noticed. Therefore, he was quickly losing it. "Goddamn, woman! Calm down! It was jus' a little bit! I won't do it again!" He snapped - and you swallowed hard; already needing to suppress the tears. The drugs influenced Daryl and the hormones influenced you.

"I don't care if it was just a tiny bit! I don't care if you say you won't do it again, because you always break this promise! You'll do it again - and we both know it! You'll drink again. You'll smoke again. You'll toke again - and you'll take drugs again. Merle is bad for you! When do you finally realise that?!" "Nah, he's family, Y/N! He's the only one I got left!" You shook your head. He didn't even listen to a word you just said, did he? "That may be true, yes! But he's so far off track - and he's dragging you right with him! You could be so much, more, Daryl... But for that, you need to finally break free!" Your boyfriend clenched his hands into fists; was visibly angered as well. "I won't jus' leave Merle! Ya can't ask me to do tha'!" You frustratingly rolled your eyes. He really didn't understand. "I am not asking you to leave your brother! I told you again and again... I'm asking you to keep a healthy distance! Separate your life and his life! Stop acting so headless!" "'M not actin' headless!" You laughed almost maniacally at his ridiculous words. "Oh hell yes, you do! And you know it! Stop this! I need you to quit acting this way, because-" The anger coursing through your veins got suddenly replaced by fear and desperation.

"'Cause wha'?! Huh?! 'Cause what?!" Daryl's already not properly thinking brain thought even less logical as he spat out that question. "I don't know if it already slipped your notice, but..." You pulled the baggy t-shirt you wore aggressively down, causing the visible outlines of your baby bump to appear. "I'm fucking pregnant, Daryl! With your kid! You're going to be a father in not even six months! Do you even know what that means?! A child comes with great responsibilities! We are talking about a human being we need to look after! A baby isn't like a dog or a cat! I can't have you hanging somewhere around, drunk or stoned! That's reckless - and I thought you were aware of that. Apparently, I was wrong."

Daryl was unfortunately way too deep in his rage to understand. All he saw was red. Literally jumping up from the couch - his symptoms of the drug consumption forgotten for a moment, he took a few threatening steps closer, until he was hovering dangerously over you. "Well... Guess ya shoulda have listened to yer parents, girl... 'N dump me when ya still had the chance to. I told ya from the very beginnin' that this wouldn't work out. Us. This relationship was meant ta fail... But now's too late. Like ya said... Already knocked ya up with that bastard child."

You and Daryl had already quite a few fights in your relationship. That was normal and common. Hurtful and ugly words were sometimes exchanged - but he had never said something like this. It really hurt you. Deep. Despite the fact, that you knew that he probably didn't mean what he had just said. You knew that he was actually happy about this baby. Scared to death, but happy. But it hurt. So freaking much.

You were exhausted. So utterly exhausted - and yet sleep didn't find you. You laid awake, hour after hour; thinking about what had happened - and the possible consequences of it. Your brain just couldn't shut up and so you spent the rest of the day and even night with just staring at the wall or ceiling and crying. Sure, you could sleep a few hours, but it was not peaceful and certainly not restful. Anyways... It was way too less sleep, given the fact that you had a night shift behind yourself and were pregnant. Needless to say, you couldn't be any happier about the fact that Sunday was your day off.

You just stared at him, while tears started to trickle down your cheeks. "Go." Your voice was merely above a whisper, but your eyes told Daryl enough to realise, what he had just done. "Y/N, I-" "Leave." "Y/N-" "I told you to go!" You yelled, pushing him away from you. "Get out of my sight, before I do something I might regret!" Daryl grunted and ripped the other sleeve of his shirt off, before he walked to the door; "Fine! If ya want me ta go, I'll go!" and slammed it shut behind himself. Mere seconds later, you broke down crying.

In the early morning hours, you heard the sound of your doorbell ringing. Cursing under your breath, you stood up and walked to the door. You had just been on the verge of dozing off again...

You already suspected that it was Mrs. Jefferson, one of your neighbours - or hence, even the postman, but you certainly didn't expect Daryl to stand in front of your door. Honestly, you expected anyone, but him. He never came back that fast after a fight. Never.

Well... Until now.

"Daryl?" You asked; totally stunned and also a bit confused. "What are you doing here?" He had both his hands stuffed into the pockets of his slightly ripped, grey jeans. A fresh tank top covered his body; not that ragged shirt anymore - and he had visibly showered. The man leaned against the door frame; biting his bottom lip nervously - a habit.

"I really fucked it up, didn't I?" "Yes. Yes, you did," you confirmed without even blinking. Daryl swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "'M sorry." You looked him in the eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. "You always say that. I always believe you. And you always fuck it up again." You paused; trying to find the right words. "I love you, Daryl - but honestly, I don't know how long I am able to play this game." He swallowed hard; the harsh realisation of the possibility to lose you - and with that his child hitting him full force. "Y/N, I... I know. 'M an asshole. Always was. Most likely always going ta be. I don deserve you. And certainly not yer love - but please... Give me one last chance. Us." He sighed; desperately. Words weren't his strengths. "Fuck's sake, I can't live without ya. I need ya. You know that."

Now you were the one who had to swallow hard. Tears stung in your eyes; as you tried to figure out what to say. Yes, you were still angry at him for what he did - for what he said, but on the other hand... You loved this idiot so fucking much. Perhaps even too much for your own good. Not that you cared, though.

"Yes. And I need you, Daryl..." Your raging hormones caused your walls to break. "You're all I've got. I chose you above my family. I gave up my entire life for you. Please don't let this be for nothing. Please hold your promise this time." You choked out; tears staining the fabric of your sleep shirt. "Look for a job; get some distance between your life and Merle's life - and, for our child's sake, get a grip. There's not much time left for you to turn the tide." You took a shaky breath and cupped your baby bump. "I can't do this without you..."

Daryl nodded; his expression soft and full of love - and regret. "I know. I know." He stepped inside your apartment; closed the door and approached you, before he shyly - almost hesitantly placed his bigger hands on top of yours. "'M sorry. 'M so sorry. For what I did - 'n especially for what I said. I didn't mean it. I love that kid. Ya know I do. 'N I promise I'll try ta be a better man. For you and the baby."

You only nodded; unable to speak because of all the tears you shed. He leaned forward; pressed a kiss onto your forehead - and that was the moment you entirely caved. You threw your arms around his neck and hugged his body. Daryl accepted the hug, of course; placed both his hands on your hips and held you.

After a while, Daryl bent his knees and quickly swept you off your feet - much to your surprise, before he carried you into your bedroom. He set you down on the bed, quickly stripped off his top and jeans and joined you; wrapping you up in the tightest snuggle possible. It was almost like he sensed how tired and worn out you were. "Sleep, hon. 'M here. I won't go anywhere." You smiled tiredly up at him and couldn't resist the urge to kiss him. So, you did. "I love you." "I love ya, too."

#daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #twd #pre apocalypse!daryl dixon

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leeknowsyou · 7 months ago

Note

Hi!! I saw your profile I just wanted to know if your request are open?? If they are could you do a jeongin fic fluff like puppy love? Like everything is new and special and the hyungs constantly tease them about it 💕

new kind of feelings

pairing. jeongin x gn!reader genre. fluff wordcount. 579 summary. the request above author’s note. my first post! reblogs are appreciated!! masterlist.

Love was something that you hadn’t felt before. I mean, of course you had felt love, but not this kind of adoration for another human being. Everytime your eyes landed on Jeongin’s features, it felt like you were floating in the clouds.

Your relationship was fresh, only a few months old. Yet it still felt like it was years old.

You had scheduled a movie night at the boys’ dorms today. Surprisingly, you got along with the other members very well, even though you hadn’t known them for a long time. Jeongin thought it was cute how well you guys got along.

Standing behind the door, you and Jeongin impatiently waited for the door to open. Finally, after a few painfully long seconds, you were met with a welcoming Felix.

“What are you waiting for, come on in” Felix greeted, while gesturing to step inside the dorm. The planks on the floor were creaky, and the walls were old and the paint was worn out, but still it was comforting in some sort of way. Yellow sparks of lights left and right, the warmness from the heater, the salty scent of popcorn. It all felt so comfortable.

Suddenly you were woken from you trance and you entered the living room. There was a blanket put above the couch, making some type of tent. The so called tent was surrounded by pillows and numerous bowls of snacks. Laughter was heard inside the tent.

Eventually you settled on the couch and now the hardest part of the evening started: picking the movie.

“Can we not watch a horror movie, I don’t really like them” you anxiously announced. A series of annoyed groans were heard across the room.

“This one?” Leeknow, who was browsing through the movies asked. “No” replied Seungmin sternly. “This?” said Leeknow in a frustrated tone, clearly wanting to just pick any movie. “Nope” Seungmin answered, while make the ‘nope’ longer than usual. A sigh left Leeknow as he placed the remote down and gave up.

The remote was later picked up by Changbin, who requested all kinds of cartoons. The next holder of the remote was Han, who then requested any kind of anime he saw.

“This is never going to end” mumbled Bangchan under his breath. Jeongin took that as a clue and picked up the remote.

“Babe, what’s you favourite movie?”he asked, while staring into your eyes. Gosh, the way his hair fell perfectly on his face, and his beautiful smile was so intoxicating.

“Earth to Y/n? Helloo?” Jeongin waved his hand in front of your eyes. You realised you were in your thoughts again and your cheeks gained a slight pink blush from embarrassment.

“Oh sorry, it’s (your favourite movie)” you giggled while clinging onto Jeongin’s shoulder. The way he looked at you was a clear indicator that he was seriously in love.

“Yah, Jeongin is whipped” Hyunjin giggled while noticing his gaze upon you. His eyes looked like they had galaxies in them, sparkling with hearts.

Jeongin’s cheeks flushed from embarrassment, as it was now his turn to hide behind your neck.

“Hyung, don’t tease me” He muttered quietly, thinking that only you would hear it.

“Our baby bread is really grown up already, pulling girls” Seungmin said while patting on Jeongin’s back, showing his proudness. That resulted in him hiding even more, being too embarrassed to show his blushed state to others, which would lead into even more teasing.

“Haha, he’s blushing!” Changbin laughed while pointing his finger at Jeongin.

The rest of the night resulted in more teasing. Eventually it resulted that only you watched the movie, while the others were growing a conversation.

author’s note. i hope this was alright 😭 please reblog if you enjoyed !!

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mountttmase · 2 years ago

Note

heey, how are you?

could you do one where mason and yn go to meet mason's niece, mila, who has just been born? and him saying something like "when we will have our baby?" or something like that

in advance, thank you ❤

A Little Miracle

Note - hi anon 👋🏻 I’m well thank you lovely I hope you are too. I’ve had a few similar requests for this so I’ve just merged them into one if that’s okay 😊 i wasn’t sure about using the new bubbas actual name so I’ve just referred to a general baby if that’s okay. I hope you all like it. Feedback is always appreciated and requests are still open 💕

Pairing - Mason Mount x Reader

Word count - 2.6k

Warnings - fluff

Mason was home earlier than usual and you heard the door slam as he rushed inside. Not even stopping to come in to see you before he ran up the stairs, shouting in hopes you’d be able to hear him from wherever you might be.

‘I’ll be ten minutes baby, make sure you’re ready!’

You were ready, and had been for the last 15 minutes as you knew Mason would want to be out the door as quickly as he came in. Today was a day he’d been waiting months for, finally able to meet his new baby niece. You were just as excited yourself to meet the newest member of the family but between Masons games and wanting Jaz and Sam to get settled and not overwhelm them with too many people, the baby was around five days old now and Mason was chomping at the bit to see her.

You made your way out to his car, popping open the boot and placing the presents inside before walking back inside to find Mason flying down the stairs, all dressed up and ready to go.

‘You ready?’ He questioned, surprisingly out of breath and you chuckled at his eagerness as he kissed your cheek.

‘Yes baby, everything’s in the car and ready to go. Just need to get your pretty butt behind the wheel’ you teased, patting it playfully and he scrunched his face up at you whilst ushering you out the door.

‘Don’t call my butt pretty’

‘What can I call it then? Juicy? Voluptuous? Biteable?’ You listed off as he held your door open for you, kissing his cheek as you sat down.

‘Excuse me. I’m feeling a bit exploited here’ he huffed, getting in the car and strapping himself in. You both looked at each other with a smile and you winked at him, knowing full well he was enjoying your compliments.

He set off, drumming his fingers on the wheel as an excited smile dressed his face his face the whole way. The pair of you spoke lightly but as you got closer you could tell he was getting restless and when you were finally parked up he was out of the car before you’d even had time to unbuckle your seatbelt.

You met him at the front of the car after he’d grabbed the gifts and hurried to the door, knocking on it quietly as you figured the little one would be sleeping. Sam was quick to answer and after a few hugs were shared, he led you into the living room where you saw Jaz leaning over a tiny white Moses basket. She turned to you when she heard the both of you enter, pulling you both into a hug.

‘How are you feeling?’ You asked and she nodded at you with a sleepy smile.

‘I’ve been better’ she laughed ‘you ready to meet her?’ She smiled at the both of you as you nodded excitedly. She moved to the side and pushed Masons shoulder gently to guide him over to where she was, and he grabbed your hand tightly to pull you along.

You both let out a quiet gasp as you caught sight of the tiny girl who was sound asleep and breathing softly. She was perfect and you could feel your eyes stinging the longer you looked at her.

‘You wanna hold her?’ You heard Jaz whisper and you both looked at Mason who was staring down at her with wide loving eyes. His head shot up, nodding furiously and you dragged him over to the sofa so he could get comfortable for Jaz to place her in his arms. She wriggled around a little bit as she settled, but soon enough she was peacefully snoozing away in her uncles arms. ‘I’ll grab you guys a drink’ she whispered before leaving the pair of you alone with her.

You both sat admiring her in silence for a moment before your eyes flicked up to look at Mason who was looking down at her like his heart might burst from his chest. His glossy eyes flickered to yours and you shared a small smile before he looked back down.

‘Hi baby’ his whispered ‘I’m you’re uncle Mase’ he told her, gently brushing her cheek with his thumb. You felt like crying yourself at the sight of them both, having never seen him like this before. When the pair of you met, Summer was a little bit over one and almost walking so you’d never seen him with a tiny baby and the sight was making your heart hammer. He was so gentle and you could feel the love pouring out of him. ‘And this pretty lady here, that’s your auntie y/n’ he mumbled quietly and you chuckled at him as he spoke to her.

‘She’s so perfect’ you whispered, reaching out to stroke her tiny hand as he gave her a gentle kiss on her forehead. You rested your head on Masons shoulder so you could both admire her, getting lost in your own little world as you watched her sleep. You weren’t sure how long you’d been sat there but Jaz and Sam quietly padded in with cups of tea after a little while.

‘You still hogging her, Mase’ Jaz laughed and he looked up at you with a shy smile.

‘Sorry baby, you want a hold?’ He asked and you nodded frantically causing him to laugh before gently transferring her into your arms. She was so little and fragile but you felt your heart warm as she settled down again.

‘Sorry baby, I bet you’re fed up of being passed from pillar to post’ you whispered and Mason chuckled as he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled the both of you into him.

‘Mase? Where your phone? I’ll take a picture of you three’ Jaz offered. And he grabbed it from his pocket to pass it to her. ‘Say cheese’ she smiled and you both laughed as she took a few shots of all of you. ‘Ahh you all look so cute’ she laughed, sitting back down and grabbing her tea.

‘She’s so lovely, guys. Congratulations’ you smiled and Mason nodded alongside you in agreement.

‘Where’s Summer?’ Mason asked, and you smiled at him asking after her, missing his little best friend already.

‘Mum took her out with lew and Tony, thought it would be nice to give you two a little alone time with her before Summer is all over you’ she laughed but let out a yawn at the end.

‘You both look exhausted, why don’t you go take a nap or something before they get back? Me and y/n can watch her’ Mason told Jaz and but she shook her head gently.

‘No Mase, it’s fine. I’d feel rude’

‘Don’t be silly, we’re here to help’ you smiled and she looked over at Sam with questioning eyes.

‘Plus, we could use the practice’ Mason joked and you could feel your face heat at up what he might be hinting at.

‘I suppose a little half hour wouldn’t hurt’ she told him and before long they’d made their way upstairs for a nap. You looked over to him with wide eyes and he winked at you before kissing your cheek.

Mason took a few pictures of just you with the baby, before you passed her back to him so he could have some alone too and if you thought you were in love with him before, this was a whole different story. Your heard was thundering inside your chest at the sight of him with the tiny baby. Thoughts filling your head of Mason holding your own baby one day and already knowing he would make an amazing father.

You’d just popped to the loo, and when you were walking back you could hear his gentle voice, thinking maybe Jaz and Sam were back downstairs but when you reached the doorway you saw he was still alone with the baby. He’d walked over to the patio doors and was was rocking her gently as he spoke, only barely being able to hear what he was saying but what you could pick up on made your knees weak.

‘And when you’re old enough, I’ll bring you to the bridge and you can watch me play. I’ll make sure I score a goal for you too like I did for auntie y/n the first time she came’ he murmured and you smiled the at memory of your first trip to the bridge. ‘Speaking of auntie y/n, you’re gonna love her so much, just like I do. And we’ll make sure you’ve got loads of cousins to play with’

You let out a little chuckle at this and he turned to look at you with an embarrassed smile before laughing himself. He beckoned you over with his head and you gently walked over to see she was now wide awake in his arms, her eyes flickering over to to you and you smiled brightly at her.

‘Hello sweetheart’ you laughed, gently stroking her head and she nuzzled back down into Masons arms.

‘Hey, you’re gonna send her back to sleep’ he laughed ‘I know how it feels when you give me head scratches, I pass out instantly so I can only image how she feels’ he joked before leaning down and kissing you softly as you rolled your eyes.

‘Did you mean what you said just now? About giving her lots of cousins?’ You asked as you both settled back down on the sofa. She was so calm just looking up at you both before shutting her eyes again and opening them a few moments later and you were both falling more and more in love with her with each passing second.

‘Of course’ he smiled. ‘I can’t wait to have our own kids one day’ he told you delicately and you almost melted under his stare. ‘Can’t you see it? A whole army of mini versions of us running about the place, causing havoc’ he teased and you willed the tears to stay in your eyes as he told you about the future he saw for you both.

You both were interrupted by a knock at the door and you rushed to let Masons parents, Summer and Lewis in. Debbie managed to wake Jaz and Sam up from their nap and you were soon all congregated in the living room, the baby now in your arms as Mason sat and the floor with Summer so she could tell him where she’d been.

‘Oh Jaz, there’s some presents in the corner’ Mason told her whilst helping Summer to stand. ‘Why don’t you go and get them and take them over to mummy?’ He asked her and she was quick to run off and pull them over. You and Mason had decided to make her a little box up with a teddy, a blanket, some little booties and any other bits you thought looked cute. You then noticed a little white paper bag next to the box and you looked at Mason confused as you didn’t recognise it but he just winked at you.

Jaz opened it up to reveal a cute Chelsea baby vest with a little frilly skirt attached that Mason must of ordered. Jaz held it up laughing and when she turned it round to show you the back, her name was printed on it with the number 23 causing you all to giggle.

You could feel the baby getting restless so you passed her back to Jaz who claimed it was almost her dinner time so she took her off to sort her out. Whilst jaz was feeding her, you helped Debbie in the kitchen prepare dinner for everyone which you all ate in front of the tv and when you were all finished, you and Mason stacked everything in the dishwasher however it took longer than it should since he couldn’t seem to keep his hands or his lips off of you.

You could tell Summer was feeling a little left out as everyone was fussing over the new baby, so you beckoned her over and sat her in your lap whilst you had a chat and played a few games on your phone with her until she was barely awake in your arms. You looked up to see Mason walking back towards you, a loving smile on his face as he sat besides you and pulled you into a heavy kiss. When you pulled away, you almost lost your breath at the way he was looking at you before he wrapped his arms around you and Summer and pulled you into him. You felt so safe and warm with him whilst Summer struggled to keep her eyes open on top of you.

You were soon on the way home, not wanting to over crowd Jaz and Sam too long and you spent the drive in a comfortable silence with Masons hand placed firmly on your thigh and once home, he met you in the kitchen where you were perched at the island with your face in your phone.

‘What you looking at?’ He asked, resting his chin on your shoulder and he immediately caught sight of the picture of the pair of you sat on Jaz’s sofa with the baby in your arms. ‘We look good as a three’ he joked and you laughed as you set the phone down, standing up so you could wrap your arms around his neck as his hands made their way around your waist. You both were looking at each other adoringly and he quickly dipped his head to place a soft kiss on your lips.

‘I love you so much’ he whispered against your lips and you chuckled lightly as you held each other tighter.

‘I love you, too. So so much’

‘I hope I didn’t scare you too much today? You know with all the baby talk?’ He told you quietly but you looked at him confused.

‘Of course not Mase, why would you think that?’

‘I don’t know’ he chuckled, but the comforting feel of your fingers against the back of his head made him carry on. ‘I just love seeing you with my family. You’re a natural with Summer and seeing you with the baby today just made me think about us having our own little one soon’ he told you and he seemed almost timid as he spoke, but you wanted him to carry on so you sent him a small smile to let him know it was okay. ‘I haven’t been able to stop thinking about a family with you for months. Is that something you would want?’

You were finding it hard to speak, too overcome with emotion so you just nodded at him, tilting your head up so he would kiss you. It was slow and soft, and your whole body shivered as you felt his thumbs stroking up and down your back. You pulled back for air and he bumped his nose against you before he rested his forehead on yours, both of you unable to wipe the smiles off your faces.

‘How about, we don’t try, per say. But if it happens then it happens?’ You told him with a slight shrug and his whole face lit up.

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah, I loved seeing you with her today. You were so good and I know you’d make the best dad. Like there’s no one else I’d want to do this with’

‘Me too’ he breathed before kissing you again, this time a little deeper. ‘How about we go upstairs and not try to make a baby’ he told you seductively and you let out a laugh as he led you by the hand up to your room.

#mason mount #mason mount fanfic #mason mount request #mason mount fluff #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #mason mount blurb #mason mount imagine #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n

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lvlyghost · 1 year ago

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Salvation

Pairings: John Price x F!Reader

Summary: after a few months since his last visit, john finally gets the chance to see the girl.

Word Count: 1.7k

tw: fluff, angst, allusion to human trafficking, NCA, terrified girls. nothing too descriptive. bad english and poor grammar as usual. if i missed anything just lmk💕

A/N: so this took a little longer since it was supposed to come out during the weekend. i was planning on making it longer but didn't, maybe a second part could happen🐸 anyway, i love price✨🩵!

Masterlist✨ | Part 2

She hears it while cooking her homemade cherry pie. As far as she recalls, no one was supposed to come today. No. Officer Davis came that morning at eight o'clock like he always did. He had handed her some new books she's been wanting to read for a few months now and was kind enough to buy for her.

Since she wasn't allowed to give her address to anyone,and let alone type it on some random website, she was always asking officer Davis for favors. He was truly an amazing man. Although, even if they ever let her do such thing, giver her some freedom, who would want to go to the house in the middle of the forest to drop off a package?

Freedom. She scoffs. Such a strange word.

Making her way out of the room she walks towards the front door, but not before taking the remote that was given to her by the NCA. All it takes is pressing the red button twice and she'll have the whole police in her doorway. She stands behind the white wooden door, hesitating. Her heart begins to race, feeling it beat against her ribcage.

What if someone had finally found her location?

I can't go back there.

Frozen in her place, hand barely touching the doorknob and tears gathering in the corner of her eyes.

"It's me, sweetheart." A deep voice comes from the other side. "It's okay. I'm sorry for not coming sooner."

John.

She mumbles his name, like a prayer, and then opens the door.

He stands there, tall and broad. The same baby blues that saved her a year ago looking back at her. The lines on his forehead soften at the mere sight of the girl. He's wearing that black beanie that once sat atop of her head when the winter had begun that first time he visited her here.

The only other one that knew where to find her. Because she knew, they all knew, he'd do anything for her.

John can hear the river outside the old house. The rustling of leaves moving against the wind, soon it'll be dark. The humid weather making his green shirt stick to his skin layered with sweat. He inhales deeply. This mission. This fucking mission has been going far too long. But everything they found les the task force to this very place. He goes room by room, entering with his gun aiming ahead and the safety off. Always.

Despite not having execute authority he wanted nothing more than to put several bullets in their bodies. Whomever they were.

A creak echoes on the second floor so he rushes upstairs stealthily. The place above doesn't look much better that the bottom part of the house. There's a weird smell in the air. Like blood and death.

After checking the first room, the bathroom and all the cabinets just in case he sighs.

"Only got one room left to check. Anything out there?" He waits for an answer, in the middle of the bedroom. The mattress was torn and dirty. He thinks of all the atrocities that must've taken place there.

"Negative, Captain. Got you on my sight just in case." Ghost's monotone voice interrupts the eerie silence engulfing his surroundings.

"Copy."

The radio dies and John walks to the next door across the hallway. Except it's locked.

Of course.

"Last door locked. I'm going in. Gaz, Soap you're in position?" He asks

"Aye sir. Both ready."

Next thing that happens is a bullet. He shoots the doorknob and the door bursts open with a loud sound of his firearm.

And screams.

Terrified screams and cries from... girls. At least seven of them. Price swallows hard, his eyes scanning the room when they land on the girl shielding a younger one. She's terrified, shaking, yet still looks him in the eye imploring to be saved.

She's hugging him in an instant, almost making him stumble back on his steps, but embraces her body nevertheless.

"What took you so long?" She asks, her face resting on his hard chest. Price can feel the softness of her skin against his calloused hands.

"Special Ops." She smells like strawberry and caramels. Pulling away so he can look her in the eyes. "How're you doin' love?"

Her heart skips a beat. Never gets tired of hearing Price calling her that.

"Come in and I'll tell you."

Taking his hand she guides him to the kitchen where the pie is almost finished. John drops his duffel bag on the wooden floor, contemplating her small form moving around effortlessly.

"I got some new books this morning. Turns out I've been missing a lot. Davis was kind enough to bring them since... you know." She shrugs.

"They're still not letting you out?" He asks with a serious tone.

"Nah. Might be dangerous." Taking out the pie from the oven she places it on the counter between the two. Price doesn't say anything for a moment, merely looking at her, pondering. "The boys are alright?"

"Yeah." He nods,"Had to drag one or two out of a burning building but that's not new."

She laughs softly, taking a seat, motioning for him to do the same. He obliges.

"How long do you think they'll keep me here, John?" It's a genuine question. It's only been a few months. A year, almost.

"Love..." he sighs. "It's complicated. I don't know much."

"Yeah but, but once they're all captured..." she stammered.

Price could never say he understands what she's going through. What she endured was beyond him. Whenever he thought of it it just made him want burn the fucking bastards. All of them.

"I promise you this. Once it's safe for you I'll personally come and give you the news. And we'll go wherever you desire, yeah?" Although it's not entirely what she wanted, she could wait a little bit longer. John had never let her down. He saved her and in all honesty she'd trust him with her life. "I'll tell you what." He stands up, making the small kitchen look even smaller with his tall form. "Have you heard about the town fair?"

Her eyes light up.

"No... is, is that..."

"Let's go." She doesn't move. "Why don't you go get ready."

"John, I'm not supposed to leave the house you know that, I mean I want to, but... you said..." She's mortified, yet excited. A breath of fresh air. That's what that man meant for her. No one ever cared about her like he did.

"I've got contacts, love. I don't need their permission. For all that matters you're safer with me. Come on, out we go." He points to the front door. "I'm a patient man but don't keep me waiting for too long eh."

He was right.

It was a sight to behold.

John watches her eating the snack he got for her. She loved sweets so much therefore he couldn't let this opportunity pass. When was the last time she got to experience something like this? Sometimes so simple.

Something so mundane.

Her eyes are glimmering whenever she looks at the different attractions at the fair. John takes a long drink from his beer bottle. Right hand finding her lower back whenever she's about to bump into some other person when she's distracted.

"You like it huh?" She looks at him confused. He points the stuffed otter in her left hand. A smile crossed her features.

"I do. And I still don't know how you did it... I mean, I guess being in the military does help when you try to shoot a moving horse toy at the fair to win something." She laughs, embarrassed about what she just said. She thinks she sounds stupid, almost making her want to hit her head against the nearest tree.

He smiles, the wrinkles on the corner of his eyes more prominent than the last time she'd seen him.

"I guess it does, love." He agrees wholeheartedly.

"How long are you going to stay?"

Price looks down at her when she stops before the ferris wheel. The wind blows her hair swiftly. What was that in the air? Her perfume?

"For as long as I can, dear." He takes a strand of hair in his hand, and gently put it behind her ear.

There she is.

"John..." she breathes. "I feel so lonely when you're gone." The grip on the stuffed animal tightens. "I've no one. If it wasn't for you..."

"No." He gently reprimands her. "Don't say another word. With or without me you'll be fine, love."

"What if I don't want to be fine when you're not around?" He's silent, yet his mind is so loud. "You saved me, John." She states. "Any other person would just continue with their lives. You were just doing your job. Another one in the endless missions you're assigned." Swallowing, she asks: "Why are you still here? Why do you keep coming back?"

He doesn't answer the question right away, instead looks over her head, lost in his own thoughts as he shifts his weight from one foot to another. He then clears his throat and looks back at her, who's waiting with wide eyes and lips slightly parted. She was right. Any other day John would've turned page. He would sure remember, after all these are stories that will stick with him until his last day. What made this mission different?

"I think you know bloody well why."

Price helps her sit inside the helicopter to get medical attention. Feeling her weak body trembling even under the black blanket she was tightly wrapped in. He had carried her body all the way outside from that house when she collapsed. The adrenaline running through her system disappearing when she realized they were being rescued at last.

Simon had side eyed his Captain when he didn't let anyone take the girl from him. Why her? He couldn't say. So he went away and led one of the other girls out of there instead with Soap's help.

"There's nothing to be afraid anymore, kid." He reassured her, voice soft trying not to startle her more than she already was. "We got you. All of you."

Her big eyes once terrified and filled with tears of despair finally saw the light at the end. It was him. What she always prayed for. Salvation.

It was staring back at her.

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #cod #cod mw2 #cod x reader #john price #john price x reader #cod mw22 #141 x reader #price x reader #john price imagine #call of duty #cod price #simon riley imagine #john soap mactavish

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fushigurioo · 4 months ago

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GUYS..😩😩😩

since i love to yap to you about random things in my life, the BEST thing has happened today

18 months ago i went through a super rough patch which resulted in me losing my house and having to move back home with family.

with losing my house, i also lost my baby girl - missy💔

since then, i’ve managed to fix everything up, buy my own apartment, find a stable job, and found my boy eren 🐱

BUT, today i was contacted by associates of missy’s current owners (who by chance recognised that she was my old cat from a facebook post) admitting that they no longer wanted her because their new kittens weren’t keen on her. they were considering surrendering her to a shelter. big red flag from them☹️ BUT… a HUGE WIN for me - because im getting my baby back this week ✨

the first 3 pics are from when i had her, the fourth is the most recent. i’m SO happy and i can’t wait to have my lil girl back with me 🤭💕

missy has the most unique lil patch of ginger on her forehead, which my friend had recognised when her current owners posted her pics as an advertisement. i feel SO lucky

she’s grown so much 🥹 but i can’t wait to make up for all the lost time with her 💖

#rio rambles #cats

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harrywavycurly · 1 year ago

Note

Already in love with Eddie and his little book loving girls! Could we see the conversation reader has with Steve about if he knows anyone with the name Munson??? Love you Sarah!!!💕💕

Hiii babes!! Eddie’s little book lovers omggg that’s so cute!!! Sure you can see Reader asking Steve about him! I hope you enjoy!! Also love youu more!!💖

-this goes along with this post here✨

*also in this Eddie and Chrissy graduated with Nancy while you graduated the year after them*

“Too much caffeine isn’t good for you.” “Says who?” “Your much older and wiser brother…duh.” “Much older? Get real Steve you’re like twenty months older than me not eight years…” “still older is older.” “Well what can I do for you today oh wise one?” “Can I not just come see how my sister is doing at work?” “Steven….” “I get bored on my days off…so what’s new? Need help with these?” “Sure…oh can I ask you something?” “Oh you’re asking now before just blurting out random questions for me? How nice…but sure what’s up?” “Do you know anyone named Eddie Munson?” “Munson? Yeah I know him…well Dustin knows him more than me they are in a club together…or they were at least I’m not sure if it’s still a thing since Dustin is graduating this year.” “Did he go to school with us?” “Eddie? Yeah he graduated a year after me so he’d be…at least what? A year older than you…maybe?” “How does he have five year old twins then? Did he have them his senior year?” “Uh well people do have sex while in high school so yeah…I think their mom is…god what’s her name she was dating an asshole before she hooked up with Eddie…” “an asshole? That really narrows it down.” “His name was Jason…but her name is just…gone but yeah I remember Dustin telling me he got her pregnant right before she ended it with it but now they just coparent or…whatever.” “Chrissy Cunningham? That’s his baby momma?” “Yes! That’s her name!” “Shhh it’s a library Steve.” “Sorry…yeah that’s her but why all the questions about Eddie?” “Oh uhm I just saw him in here earlier with his girls…I don’t remember him in high school…” “well not to be rude but you were kinda a loser…but in a cool way? You just…kept to yourself that’s all.” “Thanks Steve…” “wait…oh my god…” “shut up.” “You think…he’s cute don’t you?” “Don’t you have a date to be getting ready for or something Mr. Ladies Man?” “No that’s not until tomorrow so…I have all the time in the world to make my little sister annoyed because her big brother knows who she’s crushing on.” “You’re so annoying.” “It’s the hair isn’t it? Or the rings? Does he still wear all those giant ass metal rings on his hands?” “Yes…” “yes he wears them or yes that’s what sucked you in?” “Please leave…” “oh don’t be like that…come on I’ll help you put the books away…but really Eddie is a nice guy…you should talk to Henderson if you wanna know more.” “Okay…maybe I will.” “The hunger games? What the hell is this about?” “Oh Steve…”

#eddie munson x harrington!reader #eddie munson fluff #dad!eddie munson #eddie munson au #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x you fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #steve harrington and eddie munson #Steve Harrington #eddie Munson #my little dungeon master baby #my little fluffy haired baby #eddie munson fanfiction

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saradika · 1 year ago

Text

— WASTELAND, BABY

iv. like the holding of hands, like the breaking of glass

[masterlist] | [part iii]

boba fett x f!reader

rated E - 5.1k

tags: fallout au, post-apocalyptic, canon-typical themes, mentions of blood/violence/death, alcohol and drugs

a/n: ahh this was one was one of my faves to write - hope you like it! 💕

As you start to settle into your new life, more pieces of the puzzle begin to fit together.

You awaken feeling well rested.

No longer marking each passing day into the wall, no longer wandering without purpose.

There's ups and downs, but with each cycle of the sun, things feel just a little bit easier. The busy bustle of the city no longer makes your feel overwhelmed.

Though you've definitely gotten lost a few times - showing up late to meet Fennec, feeling stupid and sheepish.

There's a sort of comfort in knowing that in time - you will learn it.

Filling in a sort of errand girl. Picking up packages, running them from one part of the city to another. Helping mark shipments of food and supplies, noting what's running low.

It's a blessing, in a way. Keeping you mind busy. Getting you out, meeting new people.

You're actually a part of running conversations now, ones that are deeper than just ‘hello', and trickle from each day into the next. Faces that smile back when you wave, names starting to collect in your mind like small, hoarded treasures.

Learning more about this new world, things gleaned from those conversations. About how hard life was, before these settlements started being established. Months spent on the run from Raiders and worse - always on the move.

That some of that terror still lived on.

In cults that worshiped the radiation that still lingers, after the bombs.

In groups of mercenaries banding together, calling themselves Gunners. Taking pleasure in attacking the weak, leaving no prisoners.

In the strong that were stolen away from their families to fight in never-ending gladiatorial battles, working off debts they could never repay.

It has you feeling thankful, that you have a place here.

It's hard work.

Today, you're getting ready to head to the east wing of the building. The side that had taken the brunt of the blast, with crumbling walls and ripped apart floorboards. It's been a work in progress for years - repairing it would mean room for business, for people to live and stay.

You’ve spent months in the Vault mourning and bargaining and wishing. It had changed nothing. There was no turning back time. Instead - you try to pick out the small, good things in your day.

So yes, even though you often go to bed late and exhausted - you tell yourself that there is a sort of freedom in this new life. A simplicity, even though you know that this place is like a bubble, shielding you in. That the outside is still treacherous.

Here’s, there's no loans hanging over your head. No desk jobs. No long hours stuck in traffic.

What you're doing is making a difference - helping the town and the people. Earning your keep for a room that's started to grow on you, started to fill out.

A tidy collection of clothes.

An actual table and a second chair - set around a small hot plate.

An old leather bag with tools and supplies that join your trusty crowbar, so that you can repair things yourself. Bring them on your errands.

All still worn, but carefully repaired, and more importantly - yours.

Those tools are with you now, as you clear what looks to be an old hearing room. The lock on the door blasted off, anything good already looted some time ago.

A ring of toppled-over chairs sit among a dark-blue sea of scorched carpet. The chairs are useless - the fabric melted against the charred wooden frame, and you push them all up against one of the long walls.

Slowly making piles of things to toss and burn, things that can be repaired and salvaged or sold.

There's success in the few small things you find. Some bobby pins in the bottom of one of the desks, tucked into your bag. An old desk fan, one that the Mandalorian can show you how to break down into useable parts.

A success in knowing that the area you cleared out might become someone's home - a place for a family, who might have been spit up, otherwise.

It's not much.

But it helps you sleep a little better at night.

In the gaps of free time between those odd jobs, you often find yourself tucked into one of the nooks at the Palace.

There was always a swirl of activity, scores being settled, the occasional brawl. Some of those parts you could do without, but there was a certain attraction to the place that was hard to ignore.

It certainly didn't have anything to do with the man holding court.

For someone who had gunned down the Raiders so stoically and efficiently, it had been fascinating to see him in this new element.

The aura he held when he had been in the power armor - intimidating and commanding - still radiated off him in waves. Flanked by Fennec on his right side, eyes sharp in spite of her lounging, there was no doubt who held the power in the vast, circular room.

Your hands cup around a chipped mug, filled with a bitter, sludgy tea. Far from the best you've tasted - but it's warm and it was on the house, after you had helped reset their terminal the day before.

It had been a small triumph, something you had been able to bring to the table, other than manual labor. Crouched under the counter - as to not draw unwanted attention.

Fiddling with the wires that were so similar to the ones from the Vault. Until the screen flickered back to life, and the barista was clapping her hands with relief.

Now watching from under your eyelashes at the quarter-full room - most of the usual tenants preferring to spend time under the sun, making trades while the shop are open.

The meeting held openly with the man you had caught a glimpse of during your first day there.

He had been hard to miss, after all.

Despite the range of clothing worn in Mos Espa - everything from suits of armor, to close to nothing - someone in full historical garb, complete with a tattered, crimson frock coat and tricorn leather hat still stood out.

You think you even saw the flash of a flag knotted around his waist, but it had been hard to see from a distance. And from what you heard, his name matched his style.

John Hancock.

He was mid-discussion with Boba Fett - from what you picked up from whispers throughout the week, he was the Mayor of a town that was about a day's journey from here.

A place called Goodneighbor, the name at odds with the sordid history - founded by criminals, exiles from some bigger place called Diamond City.

"And what," Hancock is asking, "Could you offer us in exchange for a supply line? We've certainly been in business longer than you have, with no complaints that I've listened to."

He makes a show of looking around the room. When his eyes meet yours, they crinkle - beetle-black in the light, his fingers lifting to tip his hat as he winks. The swish of his cloak as he turns back, his hands bracing on lithe hips.

Boba shifts on the throne, an arm stretching out, fingers curling over the flat stone, "As I understand, there is not a lot of farmland in your area of the Commonwealth. Soon, we will be self-sufficient. We could supply your town with food, in exchange for things we need from the city."

Hancock shrugs, "Plenty of places to get food if you're not worried about rads, friend. Never been an issue for us Ghouls."

"Protection, then. Should you find yourself in that situation." Boba counters, fingers tapping twice.

The man's head tilts, shifting as a hand rests on his hip. The back-and-forth negotiations has you captivated.

Neither man has their voices raised - not like some of the others you've watched. A sort of easy-going smoothness to the rasp of the Mayor's voice - enough of an edge that warns you not to cross him.

"We heard all about your takeover, over in Goodneighbor." It's not a question, but it hangs heavy like one, a pause stretching a second too long.

One of Boba's eyebrows raises fractionally, "A necessary change."

"Something I can certainly understand. Also heard how you did all the dirty work yourself." Hancock grins at that - a crooked slash of a smile, "You don't delegate. I like that about you."

There's a slight curve to Boba's lips, his head cocking as he asks, "Do we have an agreement, then?"

"You know, a while ago I didn't think Goodneighbor needed a patron saint in power armor." Hancock's arms cross, fingers tapping on the sleeves of his frock coat, "But recently, there's been some... stirring. Somethin' digging at me. Makes me rethink a few things about my tenure."

A long beat, before he's stepping forward - hand extended, "So yes. You've got yourself a deal.”

"Excellent." Triumph looks good on Boba - the curve of a satisfied smirk, the pleased look in his eyes.

An easy way he relaxes back into place, the perfect way to begin wrapping up the busy evening, "You're welcome to visit as long as you'd like. I trust you've been enjoying your stay here."

"You bet your ass I have." The Mayor grins, and after everything - that has you smiling as well. The way that few would think to voice something like that, how Hancock doesn't bother the filter.

Something you're still getting used to.

The changes in social norms, how so many people cut to the chase. Respect and fear pushing over things you had been used to, not wanting to hurt feelings, hedging words and keeping things in.

Your eyes linger like your thoughts - watching as Boba fixes the helmet back in place. Disappearing behind the mask, as their conversation concludes.

"And if you'll excuse me," Hancock sweeps his hat off his head in a low mock-bow, "All these negotiations have made me thirsty."

Excusing himself, as he heads towards the bar.

Despite the open stools that curve around the counter, he takes the spot next to you. Up close, it's hard to not stare - which would be rude - even if you're motivated by pure curiosity rather than anything unpleasant.

Still getting used to all the physical changes to the world as well, and there weren't too many Ghouls in Mos Espa that you had talked to. Humans who has taken the brunt of the radiation. Ravaging their skin as they mutated, while extending their life spans and their constitution to the elements.

His face is a rough, peachy-pale. Pulled tight over pitted, scarred skin, a smooth crater where the cartilage from his nose is missing.

Handsome, when he smiles - like he's doing now. Ordering a drink, the flash of a sheathed knife as he pulls out some caps reminding you to still stay alert, even if he is charming.

You shift in your seat - trying not to pay too much attention. Concentrating on your own as he fishes a tin out of his pocket - a sharp crunch as he bites down on two chalky tablets from inside.

A sigh then, a drawn out ‘fuck’, before an elbow knocks into yours - you turn just in time to see he's offering it out to you.

"Want one? They're grape." He offers, and you're shaking your head.

Not too keen on taking anything from a stranger, much less something like mentats. He's unoffended, tucking it back with a shrug and a “thanks, doll” for the waitress as she sets a bottle and a glowing green shot in front of him.

"How long you been out?" He asks, before he drinks - a long, gulping swallow.

It takes you a second to realize he's talking to you.

"Excuse me?"

"The vault." His head cocks, "How long?"

His question makes you go still, an alarm ringing in your head. An unconscious glance back to Boba - wrapped up in another conversation.

Your new companion picks up on your worry quickly, his hands raising, palms facing you, "Sorry, friend. I know someone like you, a good pal of mine. Just wondering how you were taking it, I saw him bring you in from the wastes a while back."

Some of the panic eases. You do remember this man, when you were in the marketplace with Din on that first day. One of the figures in the crowd, his red coat a beacon in all the browns and greys.

"I didn't think anyone would notice."

"Maybe they would, maybe they wouldn't." He shrugs, "The blue stands out, at least to someone like me. Probably a good thing you ditched it. People might try to take advantage."

"So I've heard," You begin to relax, then. In spite of his words, the warning in them. Fascination taking over, a curiosity at meeting someone from outside these walls, "Is this uh, your first time staying here?"

"Sure is." He leans back in the stool, "A guy like me's got plenty of reasons to avoid a place like this."

The shot gets tipped back next. The short glass clutched between three fingers as his head dips, the heavy bob of his throat as he swallows. A dark blink of those black eyes, letting loose a deep sigh - his shoulders as he leans against the backrest.

"But, now… I never thought I'd be on the same side as Boba Fett, I'll tell you that much." He smiles conspiratorially, a flash of teeth as you're left just looking at him with puzzlement.

"I forgot, you're still so green. Sorry, sister." Hancock's elbow bumps yours, as he leans closer, "He used to be a bounty hunter. Did you know that? The worst of the worst."

Your head shakes minutely, just barely resisting the urge to peek over his shoulder.

"And listen, I've done some bad things. Some really fucked up stuff, but not like that." He gives you a look, and there's something about it that sends a shiver up your spine.

Your voice comes out like a squeak, "Like what?"

His head tilts, eyes shifting your way, "You asking about me or him?"

"Either.” You squeak - before amending, “Both.”

"Let's just say I've done a little political re-arranging of my own." He comments darkly, "Bounty hunting though, that's a whole different animal. Not all the targets are criminals, doll. And bodies are paid for, dead or alive."

A small grin, as he does look - the sweep of his pointed hat as he glances over his shoulder, as if unable to help the double-check, "Thought I might have been on someone’s list, when I got the message that he wanted to meet."

It feels like things have changed so much. Yes, there were bounty hunters in your time, but they seemed to be a myth more than anything.

And this marks the second time you've talked so casually with someone who's uspured a position of power, but somehow - neither confirmed detail makes you want to flee the Palace.

For some reason, if anything - it intrigues you. Wondering again, why a man like him would treat you with such kindness.

It pushes you to prod, to ask more.

"Why did you come here, then? If you thought it might be a trap?"

“Curiosity, in the end.” He grins again, "You tell me you'd miss the chance to see the man that rode a deathclaw through Mos Espa? Not a chance, sister."

A deathclaw - it feels like a joke. You've never seen one, only heard about them in your holotapes. In fact, they don't feel real - had never existed in your time.

Apex predators, genetically engineered. Tall, with grey, leathered skin - a reptilian snout, and curling horns.

And claws - long and sharp enough to kill a man with one strike.

He sees your awed expression, fingers making an 'x' over his chest, "Cross my heart. But I'm sure you could get a better story out of someone here."

You make a mental note to do just that.

Knowing that out of anyone, you'd be able to get the truth out of Fennec or the Mandalorian - not one to weave stories, the way you feel this stranger might.

"Anyways, I’ve spent some time here. He does an awful lot for the city, for someone who was hired muscle." There's a tone of respect in his voice, the slow nod of his head, "Heard he was even on the front lines, when shit went down. I respect that. That’s Goodneighbor material."

You remember what he's talking about - what Mando had told you, when you had walked through the marketplace together.

"Yeah?" You ask - realizing you have the chance to ask about the outside world, "What's Goodneighbor like?"

"Sort of like this one. Smaller, for sure. More ghouls.", There's a fondness in his expression, "We got a saying there. Of the people, for the people."

The phrase has your eyes dipping down, to peek at his coat. So curious about his name, his clothes. So used to people wearing things scavenged from anywhere they could find it. It has you wondering just where his had came from.

"It's a good place. A place like that can change a man," His eyes drift over the row of bottles, unseeing. "It has me thinking, maybe this place has changed him, too."

There's a silence that settles - you don't know enough about him to fill it. The last dregs of the spotchka are drained from his bottle, as he downs it like water.

You're not sure how he can do it - you can smell the sharp bite of alcohol from here. His hand clapping your shoulder as he stands, staggering to his feet.

"You're not bad, vault girl. If you're ever in Goodneighbor, give me a holler. I'll make sure you have a good time."

There's a moment then, a question lingering on your tongue.

"Hancock," You ask, surprising yourself. "Your friend, who's... like me. How did they take it?"

"Nora." The way he says the name, the private smile, tells a story, "She's just fine. A real spitfire, really took to things right away."

He considers you then, with a tilt of his head.

"And something tells me you're gonna be just fine, too."

Hancock winks again, before sauntering off into the crowds.

You're left to think - turning over everything you've learned, pieces just starting to fit together in your mind. Getting a better understanding of the man who saved you, the enigma of one Boba Fett.

He sees much from his throne.

The location is not from a point of vanity, despite the occasional sharp barb from Fennec.

That, he has none of.

Instead, it's a place of power - a place to be seen.

It is also a place to watch. There's much he has gleaned, from behind his visor. The appearance of attention from those speaking to him - allowing his eyes to wander.

To catch things. People to keep an eye on.

Deals behind his back, to be swiftly dealt with. Disloyalty had no place in the balance of something that was already so tenuous, in spite of their growth and efforts.

But today, he was watching for something else. Relief at the agreement of the alliance, even as the Mayor sweeps low in a bow. His own jaw twitching in annoyance at the showmanship - all of his vague and winding questions, the pointed references.

Better to get to the point, and be done with it.

That annoyance morphing into a barbed stab of unease as the Mayor had wandered. Finding the seat next to you in spite of all the open ones, scattered across the hall.

Because in spite of his self-assurance on that first day, his mind had become a place where you had taken up residence.

No more than the whisper of a thought. A quiet wondering, when he catches you slipping in the room to watch him.

A curiosity.

His eyes narrow.

Even from here he can see the too-casual lounge, could already imagine the overly-friendly greetings.

The rumors of Hancock's proclivity for chems and warm company was wide-spread, even in Mos Espa. The former had no bearing on him or his opinion, but the latter flashes in his mind as the man leans against the bartop, and you smile.

He doesn't even realize he's clenching his teeth until his jaw aches.

Never giving the sharp throb that follows a name, even as the eyes that he tears away continue to drift back. Just in time to catch the way the man looks over his shoulder, how their eyes meet for just a second.

A smirk, before his head turns back, and he's leaning closer. Your head dips to hear him - he sees the arch of your brow as your face turns. Fingers itching, as the man's arm slings across the back of your barstool.

He's broken alliances before.

He has for less.

It's a pretty thing to think about, even if unlikely.

Better than thinking about what he might be asking you. Or worse - what your answer might be. If he's managed to charm you in these measured minutes. If you might be lonely, and he hadn't noticed.

It's none of his damn business, but the location of his throne haunts him now.

Leaving would be the only way to rid you of his presence. And he knows, not even that would keep his mind from wandering.

Better he keep you safe, from here. With a watchful eye, even as his fingers curl into fists.

A small huff of breath - because he thinks he has a name for that sharp feeling, now.

Minutes continue to pass, and relief only comes when he sees the Mayor leave.

An ache comes as his muscles relax - his irritation not helping the stone-hard structure of his throne. That split attention finally focusing back on the matters at hand, as he wills the evening to pass more quickly.

There's several more hours ahead before he can leave. And then a bit longer, until the day is over.

Because there's one more stop he needs to make tonight.

It's late, when there's a knock on your doorframe.

You're lounging in your bed, deeply engrossed in your reading. Not really registering the sound - you so rarely get visitors in your own space - until there's the shuffle of boots, and you're looking up.

He fills the doorway, where the door was cracked - left open to bring some fresh air into the room, stuffy and humid after the hot day.

Boba’s presence is unexpected, your book dropping down to the mattress as you spring up - smoothing down your sleepwear. A long tunic, the pattern worn and faded. Legs and feet bare, beneath.

Hardly appropriate for a visit from the Daimyo, but too late to amend.

"Apologies. I've interrupted you." His voice is low and smooth - helmet tucked under his arm.

Giving you a view of his face, the crease on his forehead, downward turn to his lips, "Your door was open, I had not realized."

"No!" You hasten to reply, "I'm not busy. It's uh, just warm in here. That's why my door was open."

Realizing you're rambling, you gesture to the chairs, "Would you like to come in?"

Boba moves inside - seeming too large in your small space.

It feels strange to see him here, when you're so used to seeing him in open areas. It feels... intimate, which sends a thrill down your spine.

A moment as his eyes take in your room - sweeping across the space you've made your own.

Over the shelf and the painted-shut windows, the little string of lights hung above your mattress. A lantern flickering on the end table, just off to the side.

"I came to see how you are getting along." He finally says, turning back your way. Making no move to sit, so neither do you, “I was harsh, at our first meeting.”

The words surprise you. It’s not an apology, but an admittance. Perhaps not changing what he would have done or said, but even the small acknowledgment feels like something important.

“We don’t meet a lot of vault dwellers. Not anymore. I am sure there’s been much on your mind lately.”

You realize he’s checking on you, in his own way. There’s a lot you’ve learned since waking.

"Thank you. I've been doing fine," A smile is paired with your words - before they are running off without thought, as your hand waves in the air, "Sometimes it’s just, this place. Everything. It's..."

Concern lines at his face, "Have things not been to your liking here?"

“Oh, No, that’s not what I meant.” You blink at that, "It's just... very different than what I was used to. But I am very grateful to be here. You've been so generous."

Guilt twists at you then - you've thanked Fennec, and even the Mandalorian. But had not spoken to Boba directly since that first day, a little over three weeks ago - too nervous to approach him yourself.

"I am sorry I haven't thanked you in person already. I should have."

Your fingers twist, but his head shakes, dismissing the apology, "That's not why I'm here. I know you are. I've seen how hard you've been working."

His words stun you - that he'd noticed you, at all. Assuming he was far too busy to pay attention to someone as ordinary as you, when there were so many more important people in the city.

There's the briefest hesitance, as he moves around the room with slow steps. A question still weighing on his mind, as fingers seem to brush your things unconsciously - dragging the tips against the tabletop.

Head turning as his eyes sweep slowly along the book spines that line the shelf, the bottlecap from home, the spoon that rests in front.

That old, rusted crowbar that hangs off the edge - a reminder of your first meeting. Something you could have easily replaced by now, but… you had kept it.

A small moment, before he re-words, "And you've been treated well?"

You think about that, a crease forming between your brows as you think. There haven't been disagreements per say, but on some of the errands for Fennec you've had to be firm. Had to use her name, or his, to ensure you weren't getting ripped off.

But you came out unscratched. No worse for wear, other than the slight thickening of some newly-found skin.

"Nothing I can't handle, I suppose."

He's looking at you now - warm brown eyes beneath heavy, dark brows.

"Even by our guests?" He pushes, "Perhaps earlier today?"

That catches you off-guard. A moment of hesitation, before you carefully voice, "Are you asking about Hancock?"

"Yes," His voice is short and clipped, "The Mayor."

You hadn't realized he'd noticed that either, with your back turned the way it had been.

"He has a... certain reputation." Boba continues, thick arms folding across his chest, "An ally, for now. But if he was untoward, I would need to reconsider our arrangement."

Your stomach flips at his tone. A sharp edge to it, that was not directed towards you. Sounding almost... protective.

"No, he was nice. We talked about-" You rush to explain, before the words are dying on your tongue. As you remember exactly what you had discussed.

Embarrassed at the idea of confessing that you had been talking about him - trying to scramble for an answer, "We... uh, just talked about Goodneighbor."

His lips press into a line, the slight frown deepening, "Did you, now?"

"He said I could come see it sometime, if I wanted," Guilt swirls at the omission, tasting sour on your tongue.

"Is that all you talked about?"

There's a pause, as you eye each other. You're sure he knows - you're not a good enough liar to hold the contact - your gaze darting away.

Not even wanting to lie - just feeling that you would look so stupid and obvious, with this little crush of yours. That he would see right through you, think that you were foolish for even dreaming about it.

"No." You finally sigh - unable to help the offering, "We… talked about you, too."

"I see." He answers, and with each shift you've noticed he's moved closer - until he's right in front of you. If your hand raised, it would be pressing against the diamond-shaped cut in his armor.

His next question is breathed out, "And will you be running off to Goodneighbor?"

Gazing at you, as if he’s trying to read your mind. Crowding you into your already small space, as the butterflies in your stomach seem to flutter their wings even faster.

"No! Of course not," The question startles you, your words coming quickly. Your hand starts to reach for him, before you catch yourself, "I wouldn't want to. I like it here."

There's the smallest pull to his lips, curling at the edges. Still a serious look in his eyes, "If you change your mind, I will take you there myself."

Your hand moves then, on its own accord.

Reaching for his arm, resting on the gauntlet - fingers brushing the rough canvas of the flight suit between the gaps.

You own words quiet, but firm in their own way.

"I won't."

His own hand raises, a finger curling under your chin. Tipping your face fully up to his. That few inches of space between you almost closing.

"Good." He husks.

There's the flicker of a smile, the slightest linger - before he steps away. Eyes still on yours, as he adds, “It would be a pity, to lose our little bluebird.”

You're certain it's a tease, but the name reverberates through you like a plucked string. Thrumming deeper than when you had first heard it, stealing your breath.

The helmet raises then, and his face disappears behind the mask once more. Breaking the spell, as he turns for the open doorway.

You don’t want him to leave. Clinging to the moment a little longer, as you grasp at anything - managing to pull something from earlier that evening.

"Boba.” You're unable to help calling after him - a moment, as he pauses in the doorway, “Did… did you really ride a deathclaw?"

His head turns, giving you the profile of his helmet. All those sharp angles and the green that floats through your dreams.

"I did." The vocoder masks his voice, making it low and crackling. Doing something to you, with his words - still managing to sound amused, "You can meet her sometime, if you'd like."

The prospect leaves you frozen into place, as he tugs the door shut behind him.

The room feels empty, now. Giving you ample to think over the conversation - to wonder if it really happened, before going to bed with even more questions than before he arrived.

There’s a small cardboard box outside your door, the next morning.

Curious, you open it up. Unable to help biting back the smile, recognizing the contents inside. Because you had seen it before, just yesterday.

The desk fan you had recovered from the hearing room.

Carefully restored and cleaned - just for you.

(just a tiny bit of context - Nora is the default name for the female player in Fallout 4, Hancock is one of the romanceable NPCs!) And thank you for reading! 💚 part v will be out thursday, the 29th! and if you’d like to get tagged, please fill out the series taglist here!

(0-pressure tags 💕: @spaceydragons, @luladoll, @obiknights, @wingofshadow, @bobathirstaccount, @reluctant-mandalore, @ohheyitsokay, @floral-force, @valentine-tx, @ri-a-rose, @dreamlandcreations, @vellichormybeloved, @writeforfandoms, @winchestershiresauce , @monada43, @rescuethewretched, @thegalaxys-edge, @honeydjarin, @ray-rook, @dumfanting, @bedky, @thirsty-boba-fett-posts, @dukeoftheblackstar)

#boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #boba fett x female reader #boba fett x f!reader #boba fett imagine #fallout au

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theatrekidstatus · 11 months ago

Text

Chapter 22

-1 month later- Y/n pov: "Anthony" "THATS MEEEEE" "i wanna introduce are baby to our friends" "ok" "lets invite the cast"

Mi nombre es Alexander Hamilton

Guys we opening up the option to come see our baby today

Jazzy poo bear😭🙄🔛🔝‼️🗞️🧍🏼‍♀️🫶🏾🤭🎶🗣️🪄✅😑👍🏾🩷😂👦🏿🖕🏾😘❕🔥😔👦🏾💞👹❗️🔊🎩👦🏽: IM SO EXITED i get to see my bby 💕💕

Pippy poo😀🥹☺️😃😅😊😄😂😇😁🤣🙂😆🥲🙃:YAY LIL EMMY

Mommy nèa(not dirty🙄)😉😗😝🤓😌😙😜😎😍😚🤪🥸🥰😋🤨🤩😘😛🧐🥳:I CANT WAIT TO SEE MY NIECE

Loser Leslie 🤫😐🙄😲🫠🫤😯🥱🤥😑😦😴😵‍💫😶🫨😧🤤🤐🫥😬😮😪🥴:what time

Weird David 😮‍💨🤢🤕👹😵🤮🤑👺😵‍💫🤧🤠🤡🤐😷😈💩🥴🤒👿👻🤖:your littarly my sister duh

ThEy DiDnT sAy I CoUlDnT sIng 🤝🏾🤛🏾✌🏾🤌🏾👍🏾🤜🏾🫰🏾🤏🏾👎🏾🫷🏾🤟🏾🫳🏾👊🏾🫸🏾🤘🏾🫴🏾✊🏾🤞🏾👌🏾👈🏻:duh bitch

Oakyyyyy the unfuckable tree👉🏾🤚🏾🫲🏾✍🏾👆🏾🖐🏾🫱🏾🙏🏾🖖🏾👇🏾💪🏾🫵🏾☝🏾👋🏾🦾🦶🏾✋🏾🤙🏾🖕🏾🦵🏾:you're littarly my twin bro stop playing with me

Christodontfuckme👶🏾🧑🏾👩🏾‍🦰👱🏾‍♂️👧🏻👨🏾🧑🏾‍🦰👩🏾‍🦳🧒🏾👩🏾‍🦱👨🏾‍🦰🧑🏾‍🦳👦🏿🧑🏾‍🦱👱🏾‍♀️👨🏾‍🦳👩🏾👨🏾‍🦱:duh girl😝😝

Loser Leslie 🤫😐🙄😲🫠🫤😯🥱🤥😑😦😴😵‍💫😶🫨😧🤤🤐🫥😬😮😪🥴 :what time

⏎

2:30

My mannn💀🎃😼🫶🏾☠️😺😽🤲🏾👽😸🙀👐🏾👾😹😿🙌🏾🤖😻😾👏🏾:we love yall please be there

We were in our room and heard a knock at the door and I got up to get it I awenser it. So It turned out to be jazzy "THERE MY oh it's you" "that felt purposeful" "donde esta mi esposa" "MI ESPOSA" "whatever" we walk to our room" hey y/n/n" "hey snazzy jazzy" "may i hold my niece" she says taking my spot "of course but be careful I cant stress that enough" "trust me" "hey emily" "co co" "emily can you say my dad sucks" "jazz" "the original version was dirty" we hear a knock on the door "jazzy apologize to ant ill get the door" "DADDY" "hey baby how you been""good" "hey sissy" "hi sebby" "hey Francisco" "co co" "CAN WE SEE THE BABY" "shhh sebby your gonna scare her" "im sorry" "its fine dad, come on lets see her" "hey lin" "sup lin" jazzy and Anthony greets "hey guys" dad greets "can i hold her" sebby ask "after the adults" mom tells him "well can i hold franny" he ask "not yet baby" he says a little "by the time its yet hell be to old to hold" mom ignores him and asks "may i pick her up" "yes" she holds her and starts talking to him "hey baby im your grandmother and ill love you so much" -15 minutes later- "sebby ask y/n if you can hold Emily" "may i hold emily" "of course bro" he held him gently "hi baby im your uncle and when you are 3-4 were gonna be best friends even when im a moddy teenager well still be best friends" "awww" "cocochhnxggx" "hwrhfdhdfjdghgdjgdjddjd to you two" we hear a knock a the door "aww no more emily" "you can hold fran" "hey bro here are my tips for serving the Miranda household" Lin ran to the door "HEY PHILLIPA" "hi wheres my sisters baby" "in our room" she runs to the room "number 47 DO NOT-hey pippa" "why you switch up" Anthony teases "shut up Anthony" "HEY we don't use those especially with adults SAY SORRY" nessa commands "I'm sorry Anthony for telling you to shut up" "it's ok I didn't really care" "may I hold the baby" "yes of course" "hi baby I'm pippa soo" "pghtghbth" "close enough" we all laughed we hear our door open Anthony grabbed a knife "que es 'wheres my granddaughter' en espanol" "donde esta mi chicos chico" i said with a questioning tone "what she said"she said with a chuckle "may i hold her" nea questions "you may" i awnsers "hi baby im you second grandmother and im going to teach you how to be yourself when you are older" les came in "yall just leave yall door open" leslie asks"oops" says renés "good thing i came before someone else did" Leslie diverts"right" i agree "im really sorry" nea aplogizes "its alright mistakes happen" ant comfront "hey i dont know if this is the right time but may i hold emily" leslie asks "you may" i say granting premission "hi baby im your uncle and im gonna teach you wait for it" les tells my baby "funny" lin chimes in then everyone else came and that was that

Dark bitchs in white girl

Who tryna meet my bby

Morgan Saylor:yes

Brian Marc:yes

Justin Bartha:yes

Bobbi Salvör Menuez;yes

Chris Noth:yes

Ralph Rodriguez:yes

Ok pull up

Y/n pov:-1 month later- Y/n pov: "Anthony" "THATS MEEEEE" "i wanna introduce are baby to our friends" "ok" "lets invite the cast"

Mi nombre es Alexander Hamilton

Guys we opening up the option to come see our baby today

Pippy poo😀🥹☺️😃😅😊😄😂😇😁🤣🙂😆🥲🙃:YAY LIL EMMY

Mommy nèa(not dirty🙄)😉😗😝🤓😌😙😜😎😍😚🤪🥸🥰😋🤨🤩😘😛🧐🥳:I CANT WAIT TO SEE MY NIECE

Loser Leslie 🤫😐🙄😲🫠🫤😯🥱🤥😑😦😴😵‍💫😶🫨😧🤤🤐🫥😬😮😪🥴:what time

Weird David 😮‍💨🤢🤕👹😵🤮🤑👺😵‍💫🤧🤠🤡🤐😷😈💩🥴🤒👿👻🤖:your littarly my sister duh

ThEy DiDnT sAy I CoUlDnT sIng 🤝🏾🤛🏾✌🏾🤌🏾👍🏾🤜🏾🫰🏾🤏🏾👎🏾🫷🏾🤟🏾🫳🏾👊🏾🫸🏾🤘🏾🫴🏾✊🏾🤞🏾👌🏾👈🏻:duh bitch

Loser Leslie 🤫😐🙄😲🫠🫤😯🥱🤥😑😦😴😵‍💫😶🫨😧🤤🤐🫥😬😮😪🥴 :what time

⏎

2:30

My mannn💀🎃😼🫶🏾☠️😺😽🤲🏾👽😸🙀👐🏾👾😹😿🙌🏾🤖😻😾👏🏾:we love yall please be there

We were in our room and heard a knock at the door and I got up to get it I awenser it. So It turned out to be jazzy "THERE MY oh it's you" "that felt purposeful" "donde esta mi esposa" "MI ESPOSA" "whatever" we walk to our room "hey y/n/n" "hey snazzy jazzy" "may i hold my niece" she says taking ants spot "of course but be careful I cant stress that enough" "trust me" "hey emily" "co co" "emily can you say my dad sucks" "jazz" "the original version was dirty" we hear a knock on the door "jazzy apologize to ant ill get the door" "DADDY" "hey baby how you been""good" "hey sissy" "hi sebby" "hey Francisco" "co co" "CAN WE SEE THE BABY" "shhh sebby your gonna scare her" "im sorry" "its fine dad, come on lets see her" "hey lin" "sup lin" jazzy and Anthony greets "hey guys" dad greets "can i hold her" sebby ask "after the adults" mom tells him "well can i hold franny" he ask "not yet baby" he says a little "by the time its yet hell be to old to hold" mom ignores him and asks "may i pick her up" "yes" she holds her and starts talking to him "hey baby im your grandmother and ill love you so much" -15 minutes later- "sebby ask y/n if you can hold Emily" "may i hold emily" "of course bro" he held him gently "hi baby im your uncle and when you are 3-4 were gonna be best friends even when im a moody teenager well still be best friends" "awww" "cocochhnxggx" "hwrhfdhdfjdghgdjgdjddjd to you two" we hear a knock a the door "aww no more emily" "you can hold fran" "hey bro here are my tips for surviving the Miranda household" Lin ran to the door "HEY PHILLIPA" "hi wheres my sisters baby" "in our room" she runs to the room "number 47 DO NOT-hey pippa" "why you switch up" Anthony teases "shut up Anthony" "HEY we don't use those especially with adults SAY SORRY" nessa commands "I'm sorry Anthony for telling you to shut up" "it's ok I didn't really care" "may I hold the baby" "yes of course" "hi baby I'm pippa soo" "pghtghbth" "close enough" we all laughed we hear our door open Anthony grabbed a knife "que es 'wheres my granddaughter' en espanol" "donde esta mi chicos chico" i said with a questioning tone "what she said"she said with a chuckle "may i hold her" nea questions "you may" i awnsers "hi baby im you second grandmother and im going to teach you how to be yourself when you are older" les came in "yall just leave yall door open" leslie asks"oops" says renés "good thing i came before someone else did" Leslie diverts"right" ant agrees "im really sorry" nea aplogizes "its alright mistakes happen" ant comfront "hey i dont know if this is the right time but may i hold emily" leslie asks "you may" i say granting premission "hi baby im your uncle and im gonna teach you wait for it" les tells my baby "funny" lin chimes in then everyone else came and that was that

#hamilton fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #fanfics #Fanf #fanfic authors #fanfic writers #fanfiction writer #fanfic writing #fanfic #fanfiction #anthony ramos #jasmine cephas jones #hamilton musical #lin manuel miranda

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crookedherringcolorclod · 2 years ago

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Nothing but sweet lies today, or is it? || Subaru and Akemi (Valentines Special💕)

A/N: Hello! Happy Valentines y'all!! I haven't been writing AkeSuba a lot but I swear I have a lot in store! Stay tuned!!

“Oh my, Relio-chan. You have quite the haul this year.” Laito exclaimed, his hand on his lips as Akemi stared at the never-ending pile of gifts on her desk, wincing at the sights of reds, pinks, and whites clustered into a monstrous Valentine’s surprise.

Sighing, Akemi picked up the boxes of chocolates placed right in the center of her seat. “I guess there are just some people who don’t like to take a hint, I’m sure you would know about that.” Laito only let out a small chuckle, taking one of a few boxes of sweets on Akemi’s desk, a small clear box of macarons wrapped in a ruby red bow.

“Well then, you don’t mind if I take this? Thank you for your lovely Valentine’s gift to me, Relio-chan.” Akemi only rolled her eyes, swatting Laito away as if he were a mere fly buzzing in her ear as he made his way to his seat, chatting away with the girls surrounding his seat. “Here, let me help you, Akemi.” Asa insisted, her hands swiftly arranging the bouquets of flowers of different kinds. Lilies, daisies, most of them are roses. All of them paled in comparison to the roses in the manor. ‘Maybe I could cut some of them? Place them in my books and preserve the best ones. My bedroom would just smell like flowers and nothing but flowers.’ Akemi thought to herself, wondering if she would want her room to smell like rotting flowers in the first place.

Akemi let out a tired sigh, quiet enough that the students didn’t hear, loud enough that her older sister could hear... “Thank you so much… there’s always too much of them.” Akemi mumbled out, her voice low as a whisper. The last thing she wants right now is to be called ungrateful by her peers for not accepting gifts she never asked for.

What’s wrong with you? They put so much effort into you. They have such poor taste if they like someone as inconsiderate as you, blah blah blah…

‘Well, none of them know what I want because they don’t put the effort into knowing me, so screw you.’

Asa noticed the blank look in Akemi’s eyes, lost in her thoughts. “Hey, look at me, it’s all right. You don’t need to accept all of them, just take whatever you want.” Asa assured, rubbing Akemi’s back in small circles with her finger. “Hmm, there might be something for Amaya here… it’s funny that they mixed up our tastes in sweets.”

‘It’s funnier that they don’t know I have a sweet tooth. Amaya is the one that likes that 100% cacao dark chocolate. She pretty much likes everything.’

Asa let out a small laugh. “We would have enough chocolate to satisfy Kanato at least a month. No, I think it won’t last a week.” Akemi smiled, a certain gift seemed to catch her eye amidst the pile of valentines. She wanted to laugh, the gift was so over the top that it took her back to old memories.

The gift was a cylinder-shaped box, it’s pale green exterior helped it stand out from the bright reds and is carefully wrapped in a baby pink bow. With her eyebrow raised in amusement, Akemi marveled at the pulled at the soft ribbon, opening the box’s cover to feel a bottle wrapped in silk. Akemi looked at the card to find a name embossed on the paper, it was a boy in Shu’s class, like many others, he is from a rich family, and other than that, there is almost nothing special between him and many boys before him.

‘Well, someone went all out for me.’ Akemi mused while unwrapping the silk to reveal a pretty pink bottle adorned with pom pom to match. ‘Sweet like candy? So expensive.’ Curious at the intricate surprise, Akemi spritzed some of the perfume to her wrist and neck and took a whiff. She winces at the strong scent emanating from her wrist and put the bottle away.

‘Such a girlish and sugary fragrance… definitely not my type.’

One gift after the other, Akemi’s face remained passive, no disgust clouding her features, no gushing over stuffed animals adorned in hearts and stitched together with pink and red fabrics. The pile of gifts never seemed to end, always finding a rose, a letter, or a box of chocolates added to the pile or given during class as a proclamation of love, forcing her to accept it politely while the teacher attempts to settle the class down. Each present screaming desperation with its gaudy decorations in hopes to be her taste.

What everyone considers as a holiday to celebrate love felt nothing but a sham in Akemi’s eyes. The constant back and forth of gifts and expecting your feelings to be reciprocated. Mountains and mountains of expectations and hopes of reciprocated feelings that teenager mistake for love fall heavy on the vampire’s shoulders. Even when she simply wants to return to the limousine, Akemi still smells a human lurking by.

“Akemi-senpai, um… I like you, please accept this.”

Batting her eyes, Akemi took the letter and a box of chocolates from the young man’s hands, avoiding his touch. “Oh, you’re too kind.” She thanked him, cupping her hand to her cheek, acting like the blushing maiden that people have envisioned her to be. Blushing with pride, the young man bid her goodbye as she made her way to the limousine, not even sparing a glance at him or a lingering gaze. Reiji looks up from his book to glare at the easy stride of his cousin as sits down and plops the gift on her lap with almost no care in the world or for the heartfelt present.

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m not up to any swindling with any of those bastards.” Akemi assured, rolling her eyes at Reiji’s disapproval.

Footsteps grew louder as it made its way to the limousine, a flash of raven hair peeks from the limousine’s door, hiding dark blue eyes. “Akemi! I got a lot of chocolate pocky today!” Amaya exclaimed in delight, hoisting several paper bags into the air, Akemi could not help but to chuckle the sight. “Congrats, Amaya, we can have lots of sweets that can lasts us a month or so.” Akemi laughed as her younger sister wraps her arms around her pale slender neck, nuzzling it and inhaling the new sweet scent that surrounds her.

“Ehhh? Did you get to have perfume as a gift from one of the guys for Valentine’s? I’m jealous.” Amaya feigned a pout, her eyes drifting to the box that lay at Akemi’s feet alongside other flowers and chocolates. “You can have it if you like, it would be a pity if we threw it away,” Akemi recommended, picking up the cylinder box. “Really? You sure?” Akemi gave a small nod at Amaya as she was opening the last box of chocolates she got from the boy near the limousine. The chocolates looked handmade and molded into small hearts and wrapped individually in origami paper.

Before Akemi could eat the chocolate, she frowned and brought one of the chocolates to her nose and took a whiff. Her fingers made haste as she unwrapped the chocolates one by one, placing them back into their place once she laid them bare.

“Have you finally gone stupid? Do eat that chocolate already.” Reiji snapped at Akemi, who was paying no mind to him, finally pulling the chocolate apart with her fingers. “Seriously? This again? What did she do this time? Did Akemi breathe too hard for your liking?” Amaya protested as Akemi breaks the chocolate open, revealing a razor blade, the ones you could find in a store to cut paper with precision.

Whilst Reiji watches Akemi with a calculating gaze, her expression remained impassive at the discovery.

‘How sweet of him, and what a waste of good chocolate. Well… he was too young for me anyway.’ Akemi pondered, raising the razor blade to the limousine’s light, a dull light emitting from the steel between her fingers. Amaya looks in horror and confusion.

“Wait… how did you know he would…” Amaya asked, her words trailing into silence at the sight. “It’s called being careful, nothing much.” Akemi shrugged as she threw the chocolate out of the window, not caring if it hit anyone. Amaya tries to reach her hand out to her elder sister but hesitates as she watches Akemi press her face against the glass, her eyes stare into nothing as the rest of the Sakamaki brothers made their way into the limousine, blissfully unaware of Akemi’s state.

It wasn’t until the limousine finally stopped at the manor did Amaya reach out to Akemi one more time. “Hey… are you ok?” Amaya questioned, carefully probing her older sister. Disturbing gifts weren’t anything new to the Sakamakis, everyone gets them at least once every year. One of the things Amaya knew was that Akemi’s reactions were vastly different from Ayato’s exclaims and Kanato’s complaints.

It was still strange to see her older sister put on an impassive face in the face of every girl’s nightmare.

Sapphire blue eyes stare back at Amaya’s. “Yeah, I’m fine. I might go somewhere else to calm down. I’ll see you at dinner?” Amaya’s brows furrowed, “Yeah… okay. Take care. Thanks for the perfume.” Akemi gave her younger sister a smile, it didn’t reach her eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you some of the sweets, we can eat them for dessert after.” Amaya wanted to protest, and she genuinely did, but deep down she knew Akemi needed time for herself and she and Asa would be like a lighthouse that will guide her back.

“Another stash? There’s more than last year.” Subaru asked, looking over letters and flowers strewn on his bedroom floor. Akemi looks up from the letter in her hand, giving him a strained smile. “Yeah… people have been… well, very determined. I almost feel like a princess.” Akemi replied as she rolled her eyes, folding the letter, and putting it back in its envelope, still tired after eating dessert with Amaya.

“Oi, let me see that.” Subaru urged, taking the letter from Akemi’s fingers, and reading its contents. His brows furrowed in concentration as he read every word, every sentence professing undying love and infatuation for the older vampire. “Tch, you still get this kind of shit?” Subaru sneered at the letter. “Well, there are no creepy letters so far, so I'm feeling quite lucky if you ask me.” Akemi sighed, “I might jinx it, who knows?”

Taking the letter from Subaru’s hands, Akemi tossed it into the pile at her right, already picking another pink envelope or was it red? It didn't matter in the end whether it was carefully written in calligraphy or stuffed with drugstore candies and spirited with sweet cheap perfume. Akemi would still burn them, it's good for the fireplace.

Akemi couldn't recall how long it took for her to finish reading every letter. She always spent hours of silence whenever she was with Subaru, making her lose track of time. Curious, Akemi looked over at Subaru, slowly dozing off in his coffin, the lid was tossed to the side. She leaned her face closer to look at the younger vampire in front of her, her lips inches away from his forehead.

It felt so intimate. Lounging in Subaru’s room with no one in sight and no one to watch them.

Looking over her shoulder, Akemi watched Subaru’s sleeping form, the lid was pushed aside, showing the younger’s face, he was no longer scowling and looked peaceful. Her hand trailed lower to Subaru’s face, fingers slowly parting his lips. Akemi leaned in closer, and in an instant, her gaze is met with his ruby eyes. It matched perfectly with the flush that bloomed on his cheeks as he discovers the small gap between them.

“You idiot! What are you doing a mmph?!” Before Subaru could finish, Akemi placed a chocolate into his mouth, thrusting her finger inside.

“Why? It wasn’t like I was going to feed you mouth to mouth.” Akemi replied calmly, crawling into his coffin to lie next to Subaru as he watches on with shock in his eyes…

Subaru sits back up, hiding his face from Akemi’s view. “Tch, be serious. Don’t do that to other people, they’ll get the wrong idea.”

“They all disappoint me; it doesn’t matter what I do. They’ll find reasons to hate me.” Akemi huffed, swiping her pink tongue across her lips, the lip balm she wore was already long gone and smudges of chocolate still stuck to the corner of her mouth.

Carefully, Subaru’s hand drifted to Akemi’s face, watching her sure expression contort into confusion as she tilts her head to the side. A pale thumb lingered over her face before it wiped away the chocolate at the corner of her lips. “Tch, since when were you this messy when eating?” Subaru scoffed, still looking out for a way to tease Akemi back for what she did.

In the many decades they spent together, Subaru would have thought he knew Akemi well, at least that was what he hoped for, yet she always catches him off-guard. Akemi’s eyes drifted up to the younger’s face, her confusion melting away into tenderness as she clasped her fingers around Subaru’s hand. Subaru could never describe what he felt at that moment. He was far from a poet, always stumbling on his words and letting his fists talk.

Yet, Akemi can say so much with her eyes alone. Looking at him with so much warmth, only seeing him and him alone.

“Subaru… won’t you take me to the cafe tomorrow?” In an instant, she takes him off guard once more.

“Hah? You already have so many chocolates!” Subaru protested, Akemi pouted and slides her arms around his neck, hovering over the younger vampire’s frame. Subaru could feel the heat radiating from her body alone.

“Pretty please? Most of them have razor blades inside. You just need to accompany me, I’ll pay for our food, my treat.” Akemi promised.

The younger vampire let out a groan, running his hand through his white hair, still trying his face. “... Fine.” He conceded, watching Akemi break into another smile. “You’re so good to me, did you know that.” Akemi mused.

The younger sighs, wrapping his arm around her.” You’ll be the death of me.” Subaru muttered, pressing his lips against Akemi’s forehead.

#diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers oc #akemi sakamaki #sakamaki akemi #subaru sakamaki #sakamaki subaru #akesuba #sakamaki reiji #reiji sakamaki #sakamaki ayato #ayato sakamaki #kanato sakamaki #sakamaki kanato #laito sakamaki #sakamaki laito #asa sakamaki #sakamaki asa

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