#my dad got it so i could take it later in the year but apparently you need to take it within 24 hours of buying it so i just did it

[mikerickson]

I worked as a poll worker for the first time yesterday

After the primaries in the summer, our County recognized that they had a poll worker shortage leading into the election this year and started putting out advertisements to bring new people in. I realized that I didn't know literally a single person in my life that had been a poll worker before and that it was something I had always taken for granted. With this looming shortage however, I decided to step up and do my civic duty because why not? After a three hour in-person training session and a two hour online training session, I was ready to go.

More under the cut because honestly some of these interactions with voters are kinda depressing:

I had only signed up to do a half-day shift from 5:15 AM to 1:00 PM because I figured I'd be wiped out and exhausted if I did a whole day. Well turns out that my replacement who was supposed to take up the evening shift never showed up, so I ended up staying. I got to the polling location (a local high school) at 5:00 AM and left at 9:30 PM, effectively working a 16.5 hour day with only a 1 hour lunch break. I'll get a $300 check in two weeks, which, hey, beats jury duty!

By law our polling center was supposed to open to the public at 6:00 AM sharp, but we were scrambling and not ready yet when the vote-before-work crowd started banging on the door. Very stressful start to the morning and we immediately had a big line that didn't dwindle down until about 7:30 AM. I unironically wish I had gotten there even earlier.

Our polling location had four districts, and each district had four workers (two to man the check-in table, one to operate the voting booths and ballot scanners, and one to float/rotate out every so often). I was paired with a man and a woman both in their seventies and a woman maybe in her mid forties, but they were all clearly uncomfortable with technology. Two of the other districts were also staffed by old people who just gave up at the first sign of a problem with a touch screen or a printer jam. I'm talking just a complete lack of problem-solving capabilities. I ended up running triple duty checking people in, making sure voters were set up in their booths properly, and doing on-the-fly tech support and troubleshooting. It felt rewarding multitasking and hearing, "get Mike over here, he'll fix it" over and over, but I kinda wish I didn't have to?

We only had two voters make a scene over the course of the entire day. During the morning rush right after opening a woman raised her voice asking why there was a line and stressing out that she had to leave to go to work soon (she stuck it out in line and then bolted out of there). Later around lunch time a guy at one of the other districts' tables shouted something like, "oh, so my dad can vote here but I can't?" He stormed out in a pissy mood shortly after, but I never got the full story of what was going on there.

I had one man who had recently moved and hadn't updated his registration with the board of elections, so his address didn't match what was on file. I explained that he could still vote if he did a provisional ballot, which is basically like a mail-in ballot that you put in a special envelope and leave at the polling station instead of taking it to a drop-off box. Apparently that was a step too far and he just said, "forget it..." and left. Seemed odd to me that he 1) physically drove to a voting location to vote and 2) waited in line to sign in, but that filling out a single sheet of paper was no longer worth it.

Once we were fully set up and getting into the flow of things most of the delays and reasons for lines were the voters taking too long inside the booths. It was basically a giant touchscreen monitor to select your choices, then you review everything one last time before printing a physical ballot. I had multiple people enter the booth and then wait about five minutes before calling for help saying they didn't know what to do. Also the second page/backside of the ballot was for the local Board of Education candidates, and this was really tripping up a lot of people. Also a staggering amount of people just did not see the giant "NEXT" arrow at the bottom right hand side of the screen. Poll workers are not allowed to enter the booth with them, so I had to do a lot of blind troubleshooting from the other side of the curtain.

Lots of men coming in with their wives and girlfriends and just waiting by the wall while the women voted but they didn't.

There was a smattering of young people, but not many. I did have to turn one girl away who recently turned 18 because New Jersey is not a same-day voter registration state. She was visibly bummed out and I felt bad about that.

Our oldest voter of the day was this ancient Polish woman who didn't speak a lick of English. Her daughter, who must've been in her eighties herself, had to sign a special permission slip to enter the booth with her mother to help. They were in there for a good 15 minutes, but luckily this was during a calm period of the day.

In terms of voter attire, we only had two Harris shirts and one Harris/Walz hat we had to ask people to cover up because that's not allowed within 100 feet of the polling station. Lots of Puerto Rico flags, and one guy had this obnoxious shirt of a coquí painted like the flag that I loved. Also had one man come in wearing a very sharp suit with the loudest red tie I've ever seen in my life who proudly shouted, "Let's make voting great again!" as he left after he finished.

One older Hispanic lady (I think she was Puerto Rican) had very broken English and had to do a provisional ballot for some reason. She was so worried she was going to do it wrong, but I walked her through it with my very broken Spanish and after about 20 minutes she was good to go. She was extremely thankful and gave me a hug.

I had one woman, maybe in her mid-forties, call me over to help when she was inside the booth. She asked, "why are there so many names?" I asked what she meant, and she started listing the down-ballot candidates in the other rows below President and Vice President. She said, "what is 'Senate'? What does that mean?" I explained to her that there were other contests to vote for, and after a telling pause she responded, "...okay..." Not entirely sure I got through to her.

One woman took her very young daughter into the booth with her and a few minutes later called me over. Her screen displayed a "USB device disconnected" error. I looked down and saw that the printer had been turned off. I asked how that happened and the little girl started laughing. Her mother was mortified, but I got them sorted out.

We had one teenager who we had to help insert her ballot into the scanner because her hands were shaking so violently. It was her first time voting and she was extremely nervous. I hope she's doing okay today.

Towards the end of the night this contractor with filthy hands comes in and he's clearly exhausted but wanted to vote anyway. We were shooting the breeze while he signed his voting authority and I said, "I bet I got you beat though, I woke up at 4:30 this morning." He looks up at me and deadpans, "I've been up since 3:30." I yielded and he laughed with me.

Our second-to-last voter of the day was some early-twenties guy who moseyed on in at 7:55 PM (polls legally close at 8:00 PM sharp) and said, "I heard this was going on today." Somehow he was registered and was able to get in and out in no time, but that was just such a casual remark to make that it floored me.

Our absolute last voter of the day was a woman who was on her cellphone the entire time trying to coax her husband - who was in his own car about two blocks away from the sounds of it - to hurry on over before we closed. I could hear him hemming and hawing over it, making some excuse. He didn't make it.

Closing the polls was equally as confusing and stressful as opening them was because there are a lot of very detailed ballot reports to print and specific zip ties with specific barcodes and serial numbers to close up the machines. We were missing a certain lock for the ballot bag that we was preventing all sixteen of us from leaving (no one can leave until all districts at the polling location are ready). Eventually I (because of course it was me) found it in a trash can; someone had thrown it out for some reason but no one owned up to doing it.

As we were leaving and all saying goodbye, some of the other poll workers joked, "see you guys in four years!" I pointed out that there are elections every year, and that in fact New Jersey has a gubernatorial election next year, and some of them basically said, "I didn't know that."

Overall a stressful but memorable day. Today I was talking to some co-workers that voted at different locations within my County (so using the same equipment I was trained on), and they were telling me stories of waiting between 45 minutes to two and a half hours at most. My location never got a line that bad, which maybe had to do with the location I got assigned, but it's also just as possible that me and one other guy around my age (shout out to Giovanni working District 27!) held our shit down and prevented that from happening.

It was a very long day that wiped me out. In a vacuum I don't know that I would want to do it again, but after seeing the incompetence of the standard ilk of poll workers and learning what was happening at other locations, I really feel like I need to. I'd rather these things be run by people like me than not.

[terrifying-acceptance]

guess who just passed their driving permit test??????

[anotherlongstoryshort]

Things about the Wisdom Saga that have plagued me all damn day

Legendary

Whether intentional or not, Miguel's Telemachus really sounds like a younger version of Jorge's Odysseus. And that hurts.

"If I fight those monsters, is it you I'll find?" The layers. Could he go out and hunt for his father? Could he find his 'legendary' strength within himself? Or will Odysseus be the 'monster' he finds?

"Somebody help me, come and give me the strength" And his call is answered T_T

20 years.

Antinous fully interrupts this bop. Rude.

Ayron sounds legitimately scary and Telemachus taking a stand is so O.O

Little Wolf

I wanna fight this guy. Love that Athena agrees. (The beat of the song and sharp bursts of vocals really emulate blows.)

The quaver on "I don't know how".

Athena is immediately charmed by Telemachus' enthusiasm. She sounds so fond.

The fact she sees heart in him as an advantage when it was Odysseus choosing heart over mind that drove them apart. Guh.

Did she tell him to bite Antinous? XD

"Oh, maybe I pushed you a bit too hard." The change in her perspective is already so apparent - she wouldn't have admitted a mistake or miscalculation to Odysseus.

We'll Be Fine

"I had a friend before..." A FRIEND? FRIEND?!?!

An admission that she didn't fully appreciate what Odysseus was going through, that she feels guilty for having "missed it all".

It's unclear to begin with if she's come to Telemachus for Odysseus, or to try and replace him. Both are equally heart-breaking.

"I don't know who your friend is, I don't know what he's like" UNKNOWINGLY ECHOING HIS OWN THOUGHTS IN 'LEGENDARY'. NO IT'S FINE I'M FINE.

"The best day of my life because I got in a fight and I didn't die! :D" Telemachus, child, please.

"We'll be fine" using the same run as "this is my goodbye" T_T

Him immediately offering up friendship to Athena, like Odysseus once did, must hit her so hard. "You're a good kid." Yes he is - because he's more like his dad than he knows.

Love in Paradise

"Old friend..." FRRRRRIIIIEEEENNNNNDDDDD!!!!!

10 years.

The memory fragments sounding so fraught and chaotic together, hitting harder because they're hitting Athena all at once. She missed a lot.

"She's my wife." "Anyways..." Calypso, girl, please.

Love that they're singing completely different melodies through the first half of this song for two reasons: because Odysseus is revisiting previous motifs, once more trying to hold onto the man he was, and also because it shows Calypso is not willing to compromise on what she wants.

"Last I checked goddesses can't die." We'll come back to this later.

Then Odysseus realises he is truly trapped and he sings along to Calypso's melody in muted horror.

POLITIES OUT HERE STILL HAUNTING THE NARRATIVE.

Just the words "open arms" are enough to confront Odysseus (again) with all he's lost. All he hears are screams.

And the one he screams out for is Athena.

"He needs my help." NO KIDDING GO GET YOUR BOY.

God Games

"Father, God, King..." There's a lot to unpack in that fun family dynamic.

"To untie apprehensions that were placed on that Greek?" Zeus is like, nobody likes that guy, why do you care?

The gods being called out like X Factor finalists is everything.

So there's a great contrast against the previous song - unlike Calypso, Athena is matching each of her singing partners with their tone and beat as she convinces them. She isn't winning by 'imposing her will', she's meeting them where they are.

Rational arguments work until Aphrodite, where Athena says "please" for the first time. She softens to appeal to Aphrodite, which is why Ares has to step in.

The way she says his name XD

Ares' lines sound like as much of a fighting chant as 'Little Wolf' did, which makes it all the better that the mention of Telemachus is what gets her to 'fight back'.

"His son's my friend!" YES HE IS. And Athena of all people declaring "a broken heart can mend" is fascinating. Can't help but wonder if she's talking about herself coming around to forgiving Odysseus.

"Never once has he cheated on his wife." Handwaving the source material is worth it for this line ALONE.

Zeus is so pressed by everyone openly knowing he cheats on Hera. Stop doing it then my dude.

Ares sounding genuinely concerned for Athena is doing things to me. Goddesses can't die, huh?

Her time motif flitting in and out like a weak heartbeat.

The soft piano of 'Warrior of the Mind', touching on a whisper of 'Legendary', then rising to a triumphant crescendo as Athena regains herself. I will be forever haunted by visions of Odysseus and Telemachus helping her to her feet.

And then, finally, she faces her own father and begs. Because Odysseus and Telemachus deserve a chance to be father and child.

The parallel, by the way, of Athena entering this saga to help an outnumbered Telemachus, and now closing it with him/Odysseus unknowingly helping her win her own battle too. JORGE HOW DARE YOU T_T

[vivwritesfics]

Hii!! Could you please write a Max verstappen x soulmate reader. Like they can speak in each other's minds and how they first met. Like fluff or angst or whatever you want . You make the call. Please 🥺🥺

LMAOOOO IM LITERALLY WRITING THIS FOR RHETT ABBOTT

Nothing, just an inchident. Fucking asshole.

Those were the first words her soulmate ever said to her, the first time she heard his voice in her head. She stopped what she was doing, looking around with wide eyes.

What the fuck?

What the fuck?

And that was how it started. The two had be so fucking surprised, buy recovered quickly. They gave awkward introductions, without actually telling each other anything about themselves.

It took the two of them a moment to realise that, whatever they thought, the other person could hear.

It seemed the two of them hadn't shut up since.

She learnt pretty quickly that he loved to talk, that he loved explaining things. He was a nerd, he loved gaming. She could have listened to him go on about gaming for hours (and she often did).

She couldn't remember what she had told him. Definitely everything but her name. God, how long had it been since his voice first entered her head.

Hey, she said as she woke up.

There was usually no response as she waited for him to wake up. She'd tried to use this to work out where in the world he was, but he was always moving, always on different time zones.

A few hours later, there he was. Hello, schat, he said in her mind. A small smile crossed her face. Are you doing anything nice today?

He rarely spoke about his own day, she noticed. But it wasn't a problem. If he wanted to her know, she'd know. My dad got me tickets to see my local race with him, she replied, pausing her makeup to concentrate on talking to him.

There was a beat before he responded. You still there? She asked, pausing on her eye liner.

What race? Cars or horses?

Cars, she responded.

Again, there was a moment of silence. But then, Not the Formula One, right?

She thought back to what her father had told her. Yeah, the Formula One.

Her soulmate when quiet after that. There was a good few hours where she finished getting ready and went with her father to the race track. All that time she'd been trying to talk to her soulmate, and all that time she'd been getting nothing in return.

It was a little disheartening, thinking her soulmate didn't want to talk to her.

No, it was really disheartening.

As she and her father sat in the stands, she couldn't help but sulk. What had she done to upset him so bad he didn't want to hear from her? Of course he could hear everything she was thinking, but she didn't much care if he wasn't going to reply.

But then all twenty cars were on the track and the lights were flashing red, ready to go green.

I'm going to win this one for you.

It had been so unexpected, it nearly had her jumping out of her seat. What? Are you here?

As soon as I'm standing on that podium, you'll know it's me.

She must have realised it then, that her soulmate was down in the number on Red Bull car. She didn't take her eyes off of it for the entirety of the race (unless she was forced to). Holy shit, that was her soulmate down there.

And he did win it. Won it for her. She watched it all, him finishing first, the podium celebrations.

How do I get to you? She asked as she hopelessly looked around. Max Verstappen was her freaking soulmate!

Stay right where you are, schat. I'll come to you.

She told him where she was, apparently able to do that now she knew for sure who her soulmate was. And there she waited as he finished a debrief with the team and got changed.

But then he was striding towards her, cap pulled low. For so many years he'd been just a voice in her head. And now he was in front of her. Smiling down at her with surprise in his eyes.

"You're beautiful." Those were the first words he said to her, the first words that weren't echoing around her head.

"So are you." Wiping her hands on her jeans, she held one out and gave him her name.

Max took her hand and shook. "I'm Max," he said, wearing his usual pretty smile.

Holy fuck, Max Verstappen really was her soulmate.

[gguk-n]

Chapter 1- Anonymous Conversations

Unravelling Max's Mystery (Max Verstappen x Online Friend!Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Y/N formed an unexpected bond with a boy behind the screen. He doesn't have many interest it seems, except for reading her stupid poems.

{Reader's POV}

12/07/2012

Dear Diary, Stella is leaving for Canada tomorrow forever. Today was the last day of school before the summer break so I went to Stella's house after school. It's so shitty, how can she leave me like this and before the start of high school. I don't have any friends other than her, what am I supposed to do??? This isn't fair, first Faye moved back to her home country a couple years back and now Stella. It's like they don't even care about me. I made a google plus account so we can stay in touch. Actually everyone's on google plus, I'm just late to the party. I'm sure we'll still be close.

02/01/2013

OMG!! I think I'm in love. There's this new boy band, One Direction. Ava told me about them last year but I brushed her off saying they weren't my cup of tea, but OMG!!! They are fucking perfect and I love Niall so much. He's so cute and has the dreamiest eyes and his accent, I'm gonna faint. I bought the Take Me Home album yesterday!! I even put up their poster above my bed, hehe!! Sooooo, I may or may not be writing now. I think I'm gonna be an author. The stuff isn't great like Shakespeare but I'm sure I'll improve. I've written a couple poems and Aria read them and she thinks they are great. I'm gonna start uploading them on google plus. I made a separate page for it, under a pseudonym. If I really improve, maybe I can publish my work.

I was sat at my laptop, typing the latest story I came up with during lunch so I could upload it. There were a lot of people who were reading my work and even encouraged me. There is improvement, but then again, we can do better, I'm sure. My parents aren't very happy with how I'm wasting my time writing instead of focusing on my education since I'm in high school now. I finished typing the story and clicked the upload button, I got a comment on the post. It was from this guy, named Max, just Max. He always read all of my work and writes the nicest comments under them. I haven't spoken to him personally ever since my mother kept warning me about stranger danger and that it could be some 50 year old dude. But his comments are encouraging and make me want to write more. I hope he knows the kind of effect he's having on me.

My birthday is in a couple of days, I don't know what I'll do since I don't really have a lot of friends. Even Aria is away during that time, so I don't really have anyone to go out with. My parents are busy as always.

So, out of desperation or sadness, I don't know which one, I posted on google plus saying that it was my birthday. The first person who replied was Max as always. I really wanna know when this guy sleeps or how he gets any work done if he is online so much. He messaged me personally too, to wish me again and even asked what I did. I couldn't lie because my heart was heavy, so I told him. I literally just unloaded about not having any friends and spending the day alone because work was more important for my parents. He was so nice about it. He spent the next hour talking to me and cheering me up. He's apparently 15, from Netherlands. He loves cats and lives with his dad and sister. He sounds like a fun guy.

After that, both of us ended up chatting on google plus regularly. I would message him immediately after school and spend the next couple of hours talking to him. Some times, he'd be gone a couple weekends but it was no biggy. I'm sure he had other commitments instead of entertaining a dumb teenager.

Max's birthday is on 30 September. I wanted to be the first one, so I stayed up late to match the dutch timings and wished him. He replied a little while later. He wasn't very excited about it. I get it, maybe his friends aren't there or couldn't make it to his birthday. I was gonna cheer him like he cheered me up. I wish I could send him a present. He really was a light in dark time. When I had no friends in school I could rely on, he came like the knight in shining armour. I just want to be a good and reliable friend to him like he is to me. He is such a sweetheart. We've never spoken on call yet. I guess I'm still a little scared and we've only known each other for a few months. I'm gonna hold on that but Max is a genuinely nice person in my eyes. But his dad doesn't sound like the nicest person from what he says, but I can't tell him that his dad is shitty so I just read his texts.

18/12/2013

Dear Diary, Maxie is the cutest. I haven't seen or heard him yet but I feel like he is. Otherwise, why would he encourage me to follow my dreams? He was so understanding and gave great advice. You might wonder why I needed the advice, diary. I told my parents I wanna pursue a degree in literature and we had a huge fight since apparently I'm throwing my life away and I should try to get a proper degree that might get me a job. Apparently, I'm not thinking straight. I've been thinking about becoming an author for some time now, it's my one passion, I've realised. And if it means struggling, I would rather struggle and be happy than be in a dead end job. Just because they are some big shot business people doesn't mean I wanna do that do. ugh!!! I hate them. Maxie calmed me down honestly, he heard me out and told me it was okay to follow my dreams. I think he is such a good friend. I won't tell him that, he has a big ego as is. LOL!!

I've been gaining a lot of traction on my posts on google plus. I have a couple thousand followers but Max is the most active of them all. Max is so effortlessly funny. He did ask one time if we could talk on call, I told him that my microphone was broken. I'm still a little skeptical. I know, even though I'm literally sharing everything with him, I've never spoken on call or video with him. Maybe some day.

04/03/2014

Dear Diary, I got a new phone and a new number. The previous one was one of my parents multiple numbers but this one is my own. I feel like an adult, hehe!! I made a whatsapp, maybe I'll share my number with Maxie and we might start chatting on there. Google plus had become a bit of hassle and I'm not uploading on it like I used to. I usually only open it to talk to Max. I think it would be better to shift it to another service. He's been a little busy this year compared to the last, didn't tell me much but I think it has to do with him being in his final year of high school. Can't relate, but I hope I'm done with high school soon. It fucking sucks. But on the bright side, I've gotten close to Nia and Aria and I could call Aria my best friend but she considers Nia her best friend. I don't mind being her friend. I have Max anyways.

Max has been quite busy lately, but I don't blame him. I would be busy in my final year of high school too. Even with all that, he has taken time out to talk to me. I did share my number with him, so now instead of google plus, which is a barren wasteland, we text on whatsapp. I've suggested talking on call some time when he's free, which hasn't happened yet.

We had set up a time to talk, it was really early here but I didn't mind, I was up anyways. I couldn't wait to hear his voice. I was anxious as well, what if he's some pedophile; all these thoughts raced through my head when my phone rang. Max- Hi, Y/N! Y/N- Hey, Max!! How are you? Max- I'm good, what about you? Y/N- Yeah, I'm good too. haha!! This is so weird talking to you. Max- yeah, you sound pretty. Fuck was he flirting, is this flirting? A million thoughts ran through my head, no one's ever flirted with me before. I felt my cheeks heat up. Y/N- You sound nice too. I mean....you have a nice voice. Max- haha, thanks, this is the first time some one has said that. Y/N- soooo, what have you been up too?? You've been so busy lately. There was a pause on the other end. I heard shuffling. Max- yeah, I've been busy with stuff. I'll be done soon for a while now. Y/N- That's great I need my best friend back! The conversation flowed smoothly. It didn't feel like we were talking on call for the first time. I had a lot of fun talking to Max. He sounds like a teenager, much to my relief. He's just as funny on call as he is on text.

After that, we ended up calling each other regularly. Max would answer my calls whenever but sometimes I felt bad about calling him at the crack ass of dawn in Netherland so I would avoid calling him whenever. He is so kind and listens well but damn does he talk. Every one who knows me calls me talkative, if they heard Max their ears would bleed. But I like hearing him talk, he has the most random and vast knowledge, he's helped me write too many of my papers because I didn't have to research, I could just ask him; he's like a walking encyclopedia.

17/05/2015

Dear Diary, I think I'm in love. It's not some celebrity this time but I think it's Max. I don't even know that dude's last name but I'm in love. He not like the guys in school, he's so mature and funny and sweet and understanding and he supports me so much. I didn't know when or how but I think I love him. Obviously I won't tell him. It's prolly a crush since I have't dated anyone ever. I'll get over it, can't ruin my friendship over this. As is, he has gotten so busy. I think he is going to college. He didn't say it explicitly but why else would he be so busy right now if not applying for colleges. I don't know the dutch education system but I'm sure he busy pursuing higher education. He said he liked cars, I think he'll do something with cars. I didn't really ask in more details. I'm sure he'll tell me when he wants to. We have a chill friendship, we share when and what we want to. Alas, I hope this crush doesn't ruin my friendship.

09/08/2015

This is bad, my crush on Max has only gone on to increase. He's so kind to me, what am I supposed to do? Also he's the only one who can calm me down after a fight with my parents regarding my future. Sadly, he gotten so busy. He's gone for a while every few weeks. But lately he's been free. We've been talking a lot. He sounds a lot more rested lately too. I'm sure college is tough. But he's strong and I know he'll do it.

[Little did Y/N know, Max was busy racing across the world in Redbull's junior team. He was in his first year as a formula one driver, hence he was so busy. Max had no intentions of telling her, he liked being just Max, a guy from Netherlands who could talk to her. He enjoyed the disconnect he got with her]

[maxsimagination]

𝙘𝙤𝙖𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙨' 𝙙𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙧 - 𝙥.𝙗𝙪𝙚𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙧𝙨

summary: paige meets yn for the first time, but has no idea that she’s her coaches daughter

-> r is geno’s daughter, i know he’s like 70 but for the sake of the story let’s pretend that he has a younger daughter (26)

• part 1 • part 2 •

𖦹 masterlist

𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗛𝗢𝗠𝗘 𝗛𝗔𝗗 never felt better.

after two years studying abroad in spain, i was finally back home. i could see my family again, my dad again. he had no clue i was coming back now, he thought i was still overseas and he wouldn’t see me for another month.

i knew he was at uconn, i was studying my degree there and he was the women’s basketball coach. so i thought the best way to surprise him would be to show up at one of his practices. mom had given me the times of his practices, with the promise of making someone record his reaction to seeing me back for the first time.

i walk down to the gymnasium, hearing the light sounds of shoes squeaking from running on the court.

the doors to the arena are open, i walk in and the first thing i spot is my dad, his back to me and yelling instructions to a team of really tall girls.

the second thing i see is a six foot, hot, blonde woman. i knew who she was, paige bueckers is unmissable. and she was staring directly at me.

instead of approaching either of the two, i decide to sit on the bleachers for a bit and observe the practice. since i was in the states for my last year of studies, i might have to start coming to more of dad’s practices.

to spend time with him of course, and definitely not to see paige.

geno shouts at the players to take a water break and next thing i know, paige is walking straight at me.

“hey.”

“hi.”

i don’t know what else to say, it’s the paige bueckers talking to me.

“i haven’t seen you around here before, what’s your name?”

“i’m yn.”

“nice to meet you, i’m paige.”

“you looked good out there, paige”

the taller girl grinned down at me, and we got to taking for a bit. that was before geno called them all back from their break. paige left me with a wink and a promise to come speak again after practice. i held her to that and waited until they were finished before standing up.

my dad was yet to realise that i’d been here the whole time, and i was waiting for the right time.

when he told all the girls he’d see them tomorrow for practice again, i started walking towards him.

“hey dad.”

he whipped around at my voice and his eyes landed on me. i stood there grinning, waiting for him to say something. there were multiple players watching on, including paige, who didn’t know that i was their coaches’ daughter.

“yn, you’re back?”

“i’m back, dad.”

he didn’t say anything back, just swept me up in a giant hug.

i hugged him back as much as i could, even though he was taller than me by quite a bit. you’d think that being the daughter of tall parents would mean passing down the tall genes, but apparently my siblings took them all. so i was left to stand at only five-foot-eight.

that meant that almost the entire women’s basketball team towered over me. speaking of, when geno finally put me down, the first person i turned to was paige who stood directly behind me the whole time.

“surprise.”

i grinned up at her, and tried to hold back my laughter at her shocked expression.

“damn, coaches’ daughter? i guess i can’t take you out on a date now.”

she feigns sadness and i laugh out loud.

“what can i say, rules are meant to be broken.”

her faux sadness turned into a wolfish grin.

“i always was more of a rule breaker.”

i grabbed my phone out of my pocket then, pulling up a fresh contact.

“put your number in. i’ll text you.”

paige didn’t hesitate to type in her contact, handing my phone back to me in record time.

“i’ll look forward to it, pretty girl.”

i could feel my cheeks blush at the pet name, before i gave a small wave and followed my dad over to where he was just finishing gathering his things and leaving.

it was later that afternoon when i decided to bite the bullet and send paige a message.

to: paige

hey it’s yn, i’m free this friday if you are?

i didn’t expect a reply back so quickly but within the minute, my phone had vibrated multiple times.

from: paige

hey pretty girl

i’ve got practice @ 10, but we could go for a late lunch if that’s okay with you?

to: paige

sounds good, i’ll see you then ;)

never in my life did i think i’d be going on a date with the paige bueckers.

[ladykailitha]

The Au Pair Boy Part 1

Surprise!!! I have six chapters of this and really need to start getting it out, so I figured with Act 1 ending last week and my backlog on this and Of Butterflies and Backstrokes (Olympic Swimmer) being so low thanks to me trying to the Halloween themed sequel to Icarus (Metal Band) that I would put this out until I build that back up and lower the amount of backlog this one has.

Summary: Eddie Munson is a in bind, set to go on a three month reunion tour, he is in need of nanny for his twin girls Janice and Joan since his partner, Ethan blew up their lives a year ago. Enter nanny extraordinaire, Steve Harrington. Both men struggle with treading the line between boss/nanny and their strong attraction to each other. Will Eddie learn to trust again? Will Steve realize that he was always meant to be right there by Eddie's side?

~

Eddie hung up the phone with a sigh. He wanted to do the tour, because of course he did. But he also had two very rambunctious little girls now. Eddie was a good dad, but he wasn’t the nurturing kind the way Ethan was. But sometime in the last year, Ethan had changed.

He had grown distant and cold, going as far as yelling at the girls which he never used to do. So Eddie quit producing music to give Ethan some much needed time for himself. Fat lot of good that did.

Because apparently Ethan was banging...well, just about everyone but Eddie’s friends. The pool boy, the guy who delivered their food, the cleaning lady, their personal trainer, hell even the barely legal dog walker got more of his husband’s dick than Eddie did.

Which he didn’t find out, by the way. Ethan had told him after handing him divorce papers and legally renouncing parental rights to Joan and Janice. He threw it in Eddie’s face the numerous affairs he had. The one thing he wouldn’t tell him was why.

Why was Ethan so unhappy when Eddie had done everything right?

He buried his head in hands. Janice and Joan were only four and they had been adopted at birth. They never met the mother and were only told that she didn’t want them and never wanted to see them ever again.

So how could Ethan look at those two little angels and decide the same?

Eddie was heartbroken and not ready to move on. So he had agreed to the tour as a way to cope with the sudden explosion of his life. His friends knew Ethan had left, but they didn’t know the extent of his ex’s destruction.

He thought about taking the girls with him, but they were too little. They wouldn’t have fun and would be more terrified then thrilled. So live-in nanny it was.

Thankfully he had a month to find someone who would cook and clean and watch the girls. Especially after having to fire all of his help in the wake of Ethan’s destruction.

He had this.

~

Eddie did not in fact have this. He only had three more days until he left and he was at his wit’s end. He had rejected candidate after candidate for a myriad of reasons. One only wanted part-time despite the ad before a live in nanny. Another said she was strict disciplinarian and thought spanking was the only way to teach a child. And even another just gave off weird vibes.

So he called the agency one more time.

“You’ve gone through all of our female nannies,” the woman huffed on the other end of the line. “We only have male nannies left, surly you don’t–”

“Just send the best male nanny you’ve got!” Eddie barked. “I don’t care about gender for fuck’s sake.”

“I’m not sure–” the woman protested but Eddie hung up on her.

He didn’t have time to listen to whatever excuse she was going to come up with. He was running out of time before the tour and needed someone. Anyone.

He got a call back five minutes later from another woman telling him that they would be sending over their best male nanny at 2pm if that was acceptable.

He sighed with relief. “Yes, that will be perfect. The girls will be down for their nap then.”

“That’s wonderful, Mr. Munson,” she said cheerfully. “The gentleman we are sending over, his name is Steve Harrington, and I sincerely hope he will be a good fit for you.”

“You and me both,” Eddie sighed again. “You and me both.”

~

When Steve got to the house, he would have liked to have said that he wasn’t impressed because he had seen dozens of large houses and even larger sprawling mansions in his time as a full time nanny, but he was. Very much so.

It wasn’t a gaudy modern monstrosity for starters. It liked a Victorian era manor that had been modernized for living in today. It gave off a spooky vibe, but in a fun way and not a horror movie way. Like the Addams family or the Munsters kind of vibe.

He really dug it.

He went up and knocked on the door. It swung open almost immediately to reveal a pretty, petite woman with sparkling green eyes and strawberry blonde hair. She had a sweet smile.

He knew this wasn’t the mother, the file said that it was a single father of twin girls. A rockstar of some sort, though Steve didn’t recognize the name. This must be some kind of servant or PA or something.

“Hi, I’m Steven Harrington,” he greeted putting out his hand for her to shake. “I have a two o’clock appointment with Eddie Munson about the nanny position.”

Her smile widened, dimpling her cheeks. “Hi, I’m Chrissy Cunningham, I’m Corroded Coffin’s manager. Come on in, he’s waiting for you.”

Steve followed her through the house. It was just as impressive as the outside. It was beautifully decorated in dark browns, reds, and black. God, he hoped he got the job. He could really see himself living here.

She opened the door to the office allowed him to walk through, closing it behind him. Which normally wouldn’t have been a problem for Steve but now he was in a room with the hottest guy he had ever seen in his life and he really didn’t need an erection at a job interview.

Eddie looked up, and yup. Steve was done for. He had the biggest brown eyes he had ever seen outside of a Disney cartoon.

“Mr. Munson?” he said, reaching out for a handshake, mustering up every ounce of professionalism he had. “Steven Harrington, how do you do? You can call me Steve.”

Eddie grinned back. “Hey, Steve. Thanks for coming at such a short notice. I understand you’ve been brought up to speed on everything I’ll be needed you to do?”

Steve crossed his legs and put his hands on his lap. Shit, even his voice was sexy as fuck.

“Yes, I’ll be watching the children twenty-four/seven,” Steve recited dutifully, “with doing all of the cooking and some of the cleaning.”

“That’s right,” Eddie said. “That normally wouldn’t be the case, but I’ve had to recently fire all of my staff. In fact, if you are hired on, you’ll be working with Chrissy over the next couple of months to help bring staff back on. I would be putting a lot of trust in you not to fuck me over.”

Steve nodded. It was a bit like Robin’s period dramas. He would be running the household while Eddie was away.

“Wouldn’t Chrissy be needed on tour with you?” he asked, not sure what her role actually was.

Eddie shook his head. “She usually does, but I need her here to help to get this house running again. It was hard enough trying to explain to the girls why everyone had to leave. Especially their other dad. She just has her own place and a very demanding job. And the other people I trust with my kids are going on tour with me, so...”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Steve said huffing out a chuckle. “I’m willing and able to take the job. There is just one more thing we have to do first.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side. “I don’t think I offered you the job yet.”

Steve burst out laughing. “No, I don’t suppose you did. But you really should. I’m really good with kids, I’m great cook, my references are impeccable, I have a degree in early child development, and you’re desperately out of time.”

“I noticed that all your previous families had older kids,” Eddie said picking up Steve’s resume. “Can you explain that?”

“Yes,” Steve said with a sigh. “Unfortunately, despite being practically perfect in every way,” Eddie huffed out a small laugh, “if I was a woman I would be the most sought after nanny in the whole god damned state. Even more so if I was older fifty. But because I’m a young man not even thirty yet and all they see is a predator.”

Eddie winced. He held up a finger. He picked up his phone and called the agency. “Hello? Hi Nancy, this is Eddie Munson. Yes, I will be taking Steve Harrington on as my nanny. Thank you so much for sending him over. Can you tell me who it was the first person I spoke to this morning? Yes, yes that’s the one. Kindly inform her that pushing harmful stereotypes only makes you look stupid. Mhmm. Yes. Yes. I want her fired. Thank you. Goodbye.”

Steve looked at him in awe. “Oh wow.”

Eddie grinned at him but before he could open his mouth to say something more, Chrissy poked her head in. “Sorry to disturb you but guess who woke up?”

“Janice?” Eddie replied with a fond smile.

“And guess who woke up her sister because she wanted someone to play with?” Chrissy said.

“Also Janice.” He sighed and turned to Steve. “You want to meet my little monsters?”

Steve smiled and stood up. “That was the one thing I was going to suggest we do before you hire me, is meet the girls. But having met their dad, I can already tell they’re going to be a handful.”

“Hey!” Eddie protested. But Chrissy laughed.

“Come on,” he said grumpily, “let’s go see the munchkins.”

Chrissy opened the door all of the way and Eddie and Steve followed her out. They reached the kitchen and there seating at a table were two of the cutest kids Steve had ever worked for. They both had light, curly brown hair and deep brown eyes, but that was where their similarities ended.

The one of the right had her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail with a denim overalls over a pink shirt. The overalls had a cute pink kangaroo on the pocket on the front. The girl on the left had her hair carefully braided and wore light blue shirt and a black pleated skirt. They were both munching on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

“Meet Janice and Joan,” Eddie said brightly. “Janice is the one on the right and the other is Joan. Janice is the oldest by seven minutes and she never lets Joan forget it.”

Joan stuck her tongue out at her dad around her sandwich and then went back to munching on it. Janice looked over at Steve and cocked her head to the side.

“Who’s that, Daddy?” she asked. And suddenly Steve was struck by how much the little girl acted like her dad.

“Girls,” Eddie said sternly, “do you remember when I said that Daddy was going to be gone for three months and you were going to be looked after by a new friend?”

Joan scrunched her nose and Steve was endeared. “Is he like one of those nannies that were so mean to us?”

“No, of course not, Joanie,” Eddie said, “not a nanny...” He looked to Steve for help.

“I’m what’s called an au pair,” he said brightly. “I’m here to watch over you and do a little of the cooking and cleaning, too. A nanny wouldn’t do that right?”

Joan and Janice shared a glance. And Steve was struck for the first time that they were really were twins. They acted so differently that he had already put them in separate boxes. But they moved in unison as they both shrugged.

“I guess not,” Janice huffed. “Are you going to be fun like Chrissy or strict like Daddy?”

The adults laughed as Steve walked over to the table. “My hope is to be somewhere in the middle. But I guess we’ll just have to see.”

He turned to Eddie and Chrissy. “If it’s all right, I’d like to get started now, give the girls time to get use to my presence while you’re still here, Eddie. That way we can smooth out any real problems before you go.”

Chrissy and Eddie shared a glance.

“Yeah,” Eddie said, “that’ll be fine. Great even. I’ll give you a couple of hours to get your things and come back here. Would you be okay making us dinner?”

Steve beamed at him. “Sure, give me an idea of what you guys like and I’ll find something to make you. Let’s consider it part of the interview.”

Eddie smiled back. “Well I think you have yourself a deal.”

Steve and Eddie shook hands.

This was either going to the best decision of Eddie’s life or his worst. Currently the jury and his brain were still out on that one.

~

Part 2 Part 3

Tag List: CLOSED

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

[kittenshift-17]

Omg I feel like any teen wolf fic (sterek fic) you write would be amazing, on that topic ur an amazing writer and I’m glad that one day I stumbled upon one of your fics. And also speaking of sterek fics (or any teen wolf fic) do u have and recommendations on what to read for that fandom???

Okay, so I took my time with this one because I had read some, but not a lot... but oh boy, did I deep dive into the research to bring you some top tier Sterek Fic Recs.

TOP 20 STEREK RECS

Play It Again by metisket ***I LOVED THIS ONE***

In which Stiles goes along with one of Derek’s plans and ends up in an alternate universe as a result. He should’ve known better. He did know better, actually, and that means he has no one to blame but himself.

“Laura wants to lure the kid in with food and kindness and make a pet of him, like a feral cat. Derek wants to have him arrested for stalking. They’re at an impasse. (And the rest of the family is staying emphatically out of it in a way that suggests bets have been placed.)”

So Shed Your Skin and Lets Get Started by halfhardtorock

He's sixteen and in the woods on the wrong side of the town-line and he's so fucking fucked.

He knows he's not supposed to run, they teach that to you in preschool (don't run from a Were, back away slowly and walk with care), but they never told you how it would feel, standing alone in the dark with your heart beating in your throat as those glowing eyes tracked you from the shadows.

Don't Feed the Wolves by Amazonia_8

Stiles took the dare, because what else was he supposed to do when the whole lacrosse team was chanting his name? Even though the werewolf pack had left Beacon Hills years ago, nobody was stupid enough to set foot on the Hale property.

Except, apparently, Stiles.

Now he's got a feral werewolf following him around town with the sole purpose of claiming Stiles as his own.

so now you've got the best of me (come on and take the rest of me) by mangotangos

"It doesn't matter how hot Derek is, how Stiles barely comes up to his shoulders or how Derek's hands could probably fit really snugly around his waist. None of it matters, because he's basically a glorified babysitter for the foreseeable future and Stiles wants him out. Operation annoy Deputy Derek Hale into leaving begins now."

~or, the one where Stiles' dad hires Deputy Derek to be Stiles' bodyguard, Stiles hates him on principle and then 2 seconds later falls in lust (and love) and tries to seduce him into bed with his sexual prowess.

There Are No Wolves In California by kitsunequeen

Hunter!Stiles accidentally hits a wolf with his car and can't bear to leave him in the road to die. It's not till he gets the wolf home that he sees its eyes glow red... ------- Even everyday roadkill is upsetting, but this thing… Moments ago it was probably a majestic beast, and now it’s a mangled pile of soon-to-be rotting flesh. He presses a shaking hand to the only part of its chest left intact, not even thinking about whether it'll give him rabies or some other awful disease.

He’s about to pull back when something even crazier happens.

He realizes the wolf is breathing.

(not so) Pure Imagination by theroguesgambit

"There is a world where whenever someone fantasizes about you, you can physically feel it, but you have no idea who is thinking it about you."

Stiles knows it's wrong, but he's been Fantasizing about Derek and he can't bring himself to stop. Derek doesn't know who's taken an interest in him, but he's enjoying it way more than he probably should.

Little Wild Animal by DiscontentedWinter

Derek Hale finds a feral human on his pack's property. Humans are supposed to be extinct. But then, Stiles is full of surprises.

The Darkness Inside by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

The sheriff watched him for a moment, then he sighed and turned slightly. He reached out to open a cabinet door beside him, and pulled out a shelf. It was on a track, so it rolled out of the cabinet fairly easily, and held a small CCTV. Derek frowned and inched his chair to the side a little bit so he could get a better angle.

He was looking at a teenager, or someone at least young enough to be the same age as Scott. He was sitting on a bed in what looked to be a larger room, the area he was in surrounded by four glass walls, with his legs crossed and head tilted.

He was also staring directly into the camera, as if he knew someone was watching. A creepy smile slowly slid onto the teen’s face, and he held up one hand, wiggling his fingers in a slow, eery wave.

Derek felt his mouth run dry. He didn’t know who this kid was, but he didn’t like him.

“Who is that?” he asked quietly.

“That,” said the sheriff, “is my son.”

What I Did On My Summer Vacation by grimm for missingsun

There's something weird about Beacon Hills that Stiles can't quite put his finger on. The way everyone in town knows his name the day he arrives. The way they insist the melancholic howling that echoes through the forest every night is just a dog. The way his dad denies getting a dog, even though Stiles comes home to find one sprawled across his bed, some big black thing whose eyes gleam red in the right light. The way that massive oak tree out in the woods vibrates under his touch, pulsing with sickly life.

There's something weird going on in this town, and Stiles is determined to get to the bottom of it.

Patterns of Intention by drunktuesdays

Derek looked like the stuff of his deepest fantasies. His shirt was rumpled where Stiles had his hands in it, and he was breathing hard as well, chest heaving. His eyes—his eyes were glazed over and he looked stunned, like he’d been—like Stiles had—

“No,” Stiles said, blood draining from his face. The word was croaky and felt like it had to be wrenched out of his chest. “God, no.”

Wants & Needs by MadcapRomantic

Derek Hale has been participating in the Beacon Hills Mating Run for a decade, each year coming up without a mate. His mother, convinced this is his lucky year, persuades him to run one last time.

Enter Stiles, a young Omega with an unwanted Alpha nipping at his heels.

Family or not, Peter is determined to have Stiles.

But convinced they are True Mates, there isn't anything Derek won't do to keep Stiles safe.

I don't know why, but I guess it has something to do with you by LunaCanisLupus_22 for xXxClassifiedxXx 

“You smell like me,” the guy says, scowling as he crowds in and Stiles staggers back between the coats and finally hits the wall. “Why do you smell like me?”

He barely lets out a garbled sound as the blood rushes to his cheeks. “No reason,” Stiles yelps, struggling to get his footing and grasping at a whirlwind of puffy fur.

Or the one where Stiles goes thrift shopping and steals an alpha's shirt. And gets a lot more than he bargains for.

Sleeping Dogs by starsystems

Let sleeping dogs lie. Prov. Do not instigate trouble.;Leave something alone if it might cause trouble.

Derek Hale is asleep in Stiles's bed. And it just escalates from there.

Because of course it does.

We've Written Volumes (in Blood and Scars and Ink) by notthequiettype

Stiles is on his back on hard-packed dirt. He's cold and there are leaves stuck to his neck and there's a four inch gash in his side that he thinks he can feel his ribs through. There's so much blood around him he feels like he's floating on a pond and everything is so much dimmer above him than it was a minute ago, which is saying something because he's in the dark center of the forest in the middle of the night. And the worst of it is that he's alone, totally alone with the smell of his own blood drowning him and the soft side of him run through by a tree.

As his eyes slip shut, the last thing he thinks is, "This is going to kill my dad."

In Case You Didn't Know by Blu_Crowe

Stiles moves into the lofts, and he and Derek start to get closer. Unfortunately Stiles is a moron, and Derek is bad at feelings. They figure it out... Eventually.

Stilinski's Home for Wayward Wolves by owlpostagain

“At least your puppies knock first,” Stiles snorts. “Here I thought their alpha raised them to be well-mannered.” 



“There’s a sign,” Derek responds stiffly. 



Stiles, whose curiosity outweighs even his hardest of grudges, abandons his chilly façade of nonchalance in a heartbeat. He jumps right up and all but pushes Derek out of the way in his effort to get to the window, and sure enough when he leans outside there’s a laminated strip of cardstock duct taped to the vinyl siding: 



DON’T FORGET TO KNOCK Stiles gets cranky when we scare him

---

Or, in which Stiles Stilinski moves to Beacon Hills for his junior year of high school and accidentally adopts a pack of teenage werewolves.

Lock All The Doors Behind You by entanglednow

He has no idea what you're supposed to say when you find one of your...werewolf acquaintances, completely out of their mind, growling like they're about to see what your insides taste like. There's no handbook for this. Stiles is thinking that if he survives he might write one.

Feral Formalities by Aleandri

"There was silence as no one seemed to breath at the table.

Derek had just gifted Stiles, an unmated Omega, with food.

Right in front of another Alpha.

Who he was on a date with.

To discuss being heat partners...."

*In which, Stiles presents as Omega, and everyone wants a piece of the alpha-baby-making ass!*

for a good time, call... by EvanesDust for kalika_999

Stiles unlocks his phone to send out a quick text asking his father what he wants to eat, even though he’ll get salad regardless, and notices a strange number on his recent call log.

His face scrunches in confusion before realization dawns on him.

Oh shit.

Events from the night before peek through the hazy fog of his mind. Stiles thought, or he was hoping, that the phone call was a dream. But there it is, staring at him in the face—a one minute and 57-second call to an unfamiliar number.

Oh God.

Did he seriously call someone—possibly an alpha werewolf!—for phone sex?

...Or the one where Stiles drunk dials a very grumpy alpha werewolf and propositions him for phone sex. Hilarity, misunderstandings, and feelings ensue.

Golden Boy by trilliath 

Apparently it still amuses his uncle to buy sex slaves for him, no matter how steadfastly he refuses to use them. Derek ducks into his tent with a resigned sigh, prepared to dress and reassign whatever new beauty Peter has bought him. They do make for loyal servants, so he can't really complain about Peter's 'gifts'. But it is annoying to deal with, to have to spend his evening sorting out a slave instead of being able to go right to bed. It's just something he has to learn to accept as a byproduct of serving alongside his uncle.

But when he lays eyes on the boy laying amid his furs, he finds his breath catching in his throat. His skin is golden with the candle-light glimmering against the sheen of oil that has been slathered on his bared body. His lips are parted, and they work over inaudible words or sounds. His skin is flushed, nipples peaked and pierced with simple but unexpected golden rings. He's spectacularly beautiful in the candlelight. The many glowing candles that have been added to his usual lighting cast glittering edges and shadows, imbuing an almost unearthly golden color to his skin.

It's enough that Derek hesitates.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Just Take It | Bonus Drabble 3

Summary: Morning sickness has hit you hard today but Jungkook's always there to take care of you no matter what mood you're in (A little glimpse into their future together) Pairing: Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) Word Count: 2.3K~ (honestly got carried away with this one lmao) Warning: Talks about pregnancy and throwing up lmao. Suggestive language but I think that's it lol a/n: This was an ask I got and again I wrote soooo much for it compared to how long my drabbles usually are so I figured I would give you guys a little peek into their future together and do a longer one 🤭 (written in almost one sitting so yeah barely edited) Start from the beginning

I slump down on the floor, taking in the cool bathroom tiles under m knees as I throw up for what felt like the millionth time today and I have to will myself to not lay down, seeking comfort from this constant nausea I've been granted with these past few weeks.

"It's okay baby I got you. Let it all out" Jungkook mumbles next to me, holding back my hair with one hand while he rubs my back with the other. Trying his best to provide some sort of comfort in my darkest hours.

Okay that was a little dramatic but morning sickness sucks alright. And by the way, such a misleading name since I've been puking my guts out morning, noon and night.

I lean my arm against the rim of the toilet and lay my head on top of that, the dizziness settling in moments later leaving me hurling again.

Once I've finished after spending what felt like hours kneeling in front of that toilet I'm finally granted some solace, although that nausea had now been replaced with a splitting headache.

Jungkook had suggested I take a nice long bath. One that's a little on the chilly side so it'll hopefully help the dizziness subside.

He's made it no less relaxing though, giving me a new bathtub pillow with candles lit all around (unscented ones of course since strong smells have been another thing that has made me sick) and my regular ginger ale slushy he always makes me every time I get sick.

Although he tried to leave me be so I could relax I was able to easily convince him into the tub with me, begging him to massage my feet. Something he was honestly more than willing to do.

"Anything for the mother of my child" has been his favorite phrase to use ever since I got pregnant and it makes me melt every time he says it.

"You feeling any better?" he asks, having moved up my legs a bit to massage my calfs as well. "Yeah, thank you" I mumble since any loud sounds or bright lights are just the cherry on top of the things that are trying to prolong this headache.

"That's good" he says giving me a soft smile, a pained expression hidden behind it, wishing he could take away some of my pain. 

"Were coming up to the second trimester right? The doctor says morning sickness usually stops once you finish up the first" he tries to encourage me, hoping to give me a light to see at the end of the tunnel.

"We've got about two weeks left" I say, sinking down further into the tub, dreading the thought of living like this for the next two weeks. "I'm sorry Bunny. If I could I would take all of this away and put it all on me. I hate seeing you like this" he finally admits what's been on his mind recently, even though it's been very apparent with every look he's given me.

"You know that I love you right?" he says, moving closer to where I am and gives me a kiss before sliding in next to me and and moving me over to where I can sit between his legs, making me lay against his chest.

"I love you too" I whisper, taking one of his hands and playing with it while the other one rubs my baby bump that's getting bigger and bigger everyday. "You're so strong for doing this for us. I'm so proud of you" he mumbles against my neck, kissing the skin there and making me truly feel so loved.

I just feel so complete with him. Like there's nothing else in the world that I could possibly want. Except for this little bean that makes me puke up every single thing I dare to eat.

"How big is it right now?" he asks, referring to the pregnancy app I downloaded. "The size of a Kumquat" I giggle, thinking about the fact that a baby that small could make me so sick.

"What's a kumquat?" he chuckles right with me, confused by the unfamiliar fruit. "It's like a mini orange but...not" I say, not super confident in my answer. He laughs again and I sigh before continuing.

"It's like the size of a really big grape...but it's citrus" I say, trying to help him visualize it but he just laughs at my efforts, switching from rubbing my tummy to hugging, pulling me in as close as he can.

I pout when he still hasn't made moves to tell me that he kind of understands what I'm saying but he just trails a few more kisses down my neck instead.

"Should I go get some next time I go to the store?" he says, changing to feather light kisses making squirm at the ticklish sensation. "You want to eat our child?" I say, turning around in his embrace, breathing in the most dramatic gasp I can muster and he rolls his eyes at me.

"You know what I mean" he groans and I respond by giving him a kiss, one that's more full of life than they have been for a while.

"The bath made you feel that much better huh?" he smirks, taking in the light in my eyes again. "Yeah, also you helped me feel better. Just a little bit" I say holding up my pointer finger and thumb bringing them close together.

"Just a little bit huh?" he says, cocking a brow at me and I know I've made a mistake, or a terribly terribly delicious mistake. Maybe a little bit of both.

"Yeah just a little bit" I say, challenging him. He quickly stands up and gets me out of the tub, drying the both of us off for a few seconds before pulling me into the bedroom and throwing me on the bed. I giggle at his actions and watch as he crawls on top of me while cup the side of his face, bringing him in closer to kiss me.

"Seems like I should try a little harder huh?" he chuckles dryly and I feel butterflies in my stomach. I wonder what the baby might feel when that happens. Do they know how nervous their daddy makes me feel sometimes?

Once we kiss for a little bit I push back on his shoulder, take in a deep breath and then push him off seconds later, running back to that same place, kneeling before that porcelain throne yet again.

He trails in after me after having put on a pair of boxers, kneeling down beside me and again trying to comfort me.

"I'm sorry" I say, trying to calm my breathing after having finished and he chuckles. "It's okay it's not your fault. I guess it's just gonna be something we gotta get used to" he says and I furrow my brows, questioning his words.

"We'll have to start being careful so we don't wake up the baby once they're here" he teases and I roll my eyes, laughing along with him at the thought of being interrupted by our children late at night.

"Hopefully that won't happen too often" I breath out, starting to focus on my breathing to stop myself from retching again. "You just gotta learn to be a little more quiet" he teases, poking me in the ribs making me push his shoulder lightly but he sways right back over to me.

"It's not just me you know" I scoff and he continues to be amused at my efforts of defense. "Whatever" I grumble, standing up and flushing the toilet before cleaning myself off again and brushing my teeth.

"Come on Bunny you know I love you" he says following me back into the bedroom and over to the closet so I can pick out something to wear to bed. "I also love all those pretty little noises you make for me" he whispers in my ear, caressing my belly again but for more sensual motives this time.

I throw one of his t shirts over my head, trapping him under it for a second before he pulls away from me so I can put it on the rest of the way. 

I forego wearing anything else since I pretty much sleep naked most nights. The t shirt being a relatively new edition to provide some sort of warmth if I have to rush to the bathroom in the middle of the night.

I pull back the covers and lay in bed, him following close behind and getting in next to me, pouting from the feeling of being shut out from the silent treatment I'm giving him but he gives me time to take a breather. 

"Can I hold you?" he asks in a tentative tone, not wanting to push it but still wanting to be close to me. Instead of answering I reach my arm back and grab onto his and throw it over me, taking his hand and placing it on my belly where he immediately starts to caress it, bringing those fluttery feelings back again. 

"I love you Darling" he mumbles into my neck after having come closer, my back up against his chest again, our legs tangled together while he encompasses me in that love that is truly palpable. "I love you too Daddy" I mumble with a smile on my face and he smiles against my skin. 

"Should I start calling you Mommy?" he teases, rubbing my belly and making me laugh. "Maybe when the baby gets here" I say, and he leans down so he can be eye to eye with my bump and starts talking to the baby. 

"Hey there you little Kumquat, you better let Mommy sleep tonight you got it? She's getting cranky with me when all I wanna do is love her" he says and I wack him upside he head, leaving him groaning in fake pain and I laugh while he continues to talk to the baby. 

"See? All I was doing was telling you to treat her better and then she goes and hits me. We're gonna have a serious talking to once you get out of there missy!" he says, and I laugh again, now choosing to run my fingers through his hair instead. "And now she's rewarding me, I don't know if I should praise you for that or still scold you" he pouts. "Be nice to the baby he doesn't know better" I chuckle and then he looks up at me, shocked at what I'm insinuating. 

"You hear that? She called you a boy! How rude. You're obviously a girl" he counters, the two of us still at odds on the gender of this baby. "How are you so sure?" I question, curious as to why he's been so dead set on thinking it's a girl. "I looked it up" he says sitting up so he can state his case. "Oh really?" I say sitting up and mirroring his posture, the both of us with our arms crossed over our chests. 

"Yup it says that excessive nausea is primarily linked to girls" he says, clearly proud of himself. "Oh yeah?" I question, cocking a brow at him (a habit I've picked up since I've been with him). "Yeah" he says, leaning over me to grab my phone on the nightstand, unlocking it and looking it up before showing me an article. 

"See" he says, and I roll my eyes. "Just because one article says that doesn't mean-" I'm interrupted by him grabbing my phone out of my hand and going back to the google results page before giving it back to me. I scroll and scroll and scroll and see that a vast majority of them support his claims. 

"Ha! Look!" I say, picking out the one article that says it's linked to boys. "Grasping at straws aren't we?" he chuckles. "Whatever" I huff and lay back down.

We get back into that position we had been in before, him leaning over me to talk to be baby again. "Goodnight baby, sweet dreams. You know I love you no matter what you are" he says and places a kiss on my bump making me caress his head again, wondering how I got so lucky. "But I secretly hope you're a girl" he says, mumbling it right against my stomach as if him continuing to say it would change the outcome. 

"Alright Daddy say goodnight for real this time" I chuckle, signaling him to lay back down so we can go to sleep. "Goodnight my love. See you soon" he finishes, placing one last kiss and laying back down to hold me again. "I swear you sweet talk that baby more often than you sweet talk me" I tease and he pinches one of my nipples in response. 

"Hey! Those are sensitive" I whine and he chuckles, tapping twice on my hip telling me to calm down. "Lets go to bed grumpy" he says, pulling me closer when I try to push him away. "I swear both of you are always ganging up on me" I grumble and he chuckles. 

"It's our job isn't it?" he says moving his hand this way and that on my belly almost as if he was doing a secret handshake with them. "I swear" I breathe out and all I hear is him starting to have a conversation with the baby again.

"Love you Mommy" he teases, acting as if he was the baby and roll my eyes. He follows it up giving me a similar sentiment, this time deepening his tone and saying it right in my ear. "Goodnight Mommy, love you" he says, placing one last kiss on my neck "Goodnight" I whisper back leaving him holding me tight, finally settling down. 

I'm greeted a few moments later with the sounds of his soft snores, my forever lullaby. "Love you too Daddy" I whisper barely loud enough for anyone to hear but it brings me comfort, knowing that soon those words will be echoed throughout our home for years to come.  

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[muxshwriting]

who we are

Max Verstappen x reader

summary: both of them dreaming, both hoping. But the second one tries to make it reality, it all crumbles down || warning: miscommunications, angst, fluff || word count: 1494 || masterlist

Everyone knew Max and Y/N loved each other. The only people who didn't know that were Max and Y/N. You'd been friends since childhood, growing up a few doors down from Max. You'd followed him to every karting race you could, cheering him on from the sidelines no matter where he finished. When Jos was unhappy, he would spend a weekend at your house, spending all his spare time either karting or with you.

He was your first kiss, when you were both barely teenagers but wanted to know what it felt like. Max had offered, ever so kindly, to show you and you had agreed.

As you grew, many people expected you to grow apart, as you studied at university and Max travelled the world but you never did. You would stay in touch with Max all year round, visiting races when you could. And during the off season, Max would come back to the Netherlands, joining your family for the holidays and taking you abroad. You had gelled with his friends immediately, fitting into the group as if you had always been there. Despite fitting in so well, you and Max could always be found apart from the group of an evening.

You would be tangled up with each other, your legs slung over him and his am resting lazily around your shoulders. If anyone asked, it didn't mean anything. You were friends, best friends. You just found comfort in each others company and liked the warmth the other provided. There was no other reason for your behaviour at all...

“Y/N?” Daniel is tapping you on the back, getting your attention. You were at the home grand prix, waiting for Max to finish up in his driver's room after the race.

“What’s up?”

“Max is asking for you.” He pauses. “It's Jos and it's… it’s pretty bad.”

Before he had even finished speaking, you were rushing out of hospitality and heading towards Max's motorhome. His father was never happy unless Max was winning everything all of the time. Max had placed second, a very good result, especially considering the wet conditions. But second is the first loser to Jos and therefore, Max was a disgrace to the Verstappen name.

You slowly open the door to see a teary-eyes Max looking up at you. You open your arms just in time for Max to fling himself into them and cling on tightly. "Don't listen to Jos, Max. He doesn't know what he's talking about."

"He's my dad."

You wrap your arm around his shoulders and pull him closer. "You're an adult Max. You don't have to listen to him anymore."

"But-"

"He doesn't understand." You press. "He was never as good as you, alright? He'll never know the feeling of crossing that line first, of winning the championship. You do, you know the feeling ten times over."

"Okay."

"Okay." You smile at him, relishing the feeling of him in your arms. "A bunch of the drivers are going out tonight, you feeling up to it?"

Max nods, slowly pulling away. "I'll pick you up from your room?"

"I'd like that."

Later that night, you smoothed down you dress, fiddling with your hair as you waited. The soft knock on the door sent your heart racing, knowing that it was Max. As you opened the door, Max was bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, a smile playing at the corner of your lips. He tenderly offered you his arm, his shirt falling open just a little more.

The club was packed, full of drivers, their friends and plenty of girls. A small hint of jealousy stirred in your stomach but you pushed it down. Max wasn't yours. You didn't have the right to be jealous when you couldn't even admit it. Danny found you an hour later, moping in a booth you watched Max dance with another girl.

"What are you moping about?"

You motioned your head to Max and the girl. Danny chuckled at your apparent jealousy and slid in next to you.

"I wouldn't worry about some random girl, he's only got real eyes for you."

"Yeah right."

Danny huffed. "You guys fit so well together, you're perfect!"

"You know we don’t work Danny. It would never work out."

"Of course you could be together!" Danny slurred. "Max loved you since you were kids. He’s just scared of his feelings. He doesn’t want to ruin anything."

"What?"

Danny looked confused. "What did I say?"

"You said Max loves me."

Danny grinned, sleepily. "Yeah. He does, he really does but don’t tell him I told you. You’re not supposed to know."

"…Yeah."

You leave Danny to figure out where his limbs are and search the crowd for Max. In your conversation, he'd abandoned the girl, now laughing with a couple other drivers and nursing drinks. You lock eyes across the dance floor, weaving through other people to reach one another.

Underneath the fluorescent glow of the club, two hearts beat in rhythm. You and Max stood facing each other, your eyes locked in a silent conversation that spoke volumes. It was a moment suspended in time, the world around them fading into the background as you leaned closer, drawn together by an irresistible magnetic pull. Your breaths mingled, warm and hesitant.

And then, with a trembling hand and a surge of courage, you close the distance between them, your lips brushing softly against Max's in a delicate dance of anticipation. Max surged forward himself, pressing his lips back into yours, melding perfectly together. Time seemed to stand still as their hearts collided, the world falling away as they lost themselves in the sweet ecstasy of that kiss.

It was a kiss filled with longing and desire, a silent proclamation of the feelings that had blossomed between them, unspoken but understood. In that fleeting moment, everything changed, their bond deepening with each beat of their hearts. As they finally pulled away, their lips still tingled with the ghost of their embrace.

But Max said nothing. He stared.

Someone bumped into you, pushing you slightly further away. Max didn't move. He just stared at the spot you had been in as you were tussled away by the crowd. You waited by the bar, trying to spot Max amongst the chaos, trying to find him again, to say something, anything. But he had disappeared.

Max hadn't spoken to you since the kiss. It had been a whole week and you had heard nothing. He was answering other people but ignoring all your messages. You had sent him one that night asking if you had overstepped. He had read you message, he had read all of them but he had replied to none.

You had come to the next race anyway, wanting to support him regardless. Danny stuck by your side, welcoming you to his side of the garage so you could avoid Max. You hadn't told Danny exactly what happened, just that you and Max weren't talking.

Your peace was disrupted when Max wandered over to ask Danny for something. He spotted you and paled, his eyebrows creasing together and his eyes softening. Without a word, he turned on his heel and fled, passing a very confused Daniel in the doorway.

Danny bounded over, glancing at a retreating Max. "What's going on with you and Max? He looks like a sad cat."

You sigh. "I kissed him."

"You kissed-" The outburst was immediate. "When?"

"At the party last weekend."

"Why is he so miserable then?"

"I don't know! He hasn't talked to me since. He's not answering any of my texts."

"He’s an idiot." Danny suggested. "Maybe he’s hit his head and forgotten who you are? I’ll go talk to him, alright?"

Danny's pep talk must have worked wonders because it took less than ten minutes for Max to come and find you again, silently sitting down next to you. "I want to talk to you."

"About what?" You’re secretly hoping he wants to tell you that he fucked up, that the kiss meant a lot and that’s why he stayed away, but your brain tells you to think realistically.

Max frowned. "I don’t really know…"

You stay silent, simply looking at Max and waiting.

"I was an idiot." He confesses. "You deserve a whole lot better than what I can offer you… I’m sorry I can’t give you what you deserve."

"Max…"

"No! I fucked up and walked away and then I was too afraid to text you back because I thought I’d ruined it. Then I actually ruined it by ignoring you. When you kissed me, I panicked mainly because I didn’t think it was actually happening and then I realised it was actually happening but you had pulled away." Max said hurriedly. "I just really want to kiss you."

The smile that covers your face is contagious. "Then kiss me."

You and I burned out our steam, chasing someone else's dream.

fallen down my f1 rabbithole... i'm definitely mentally stable xx

taglist: @aoi-targaryen

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Scarecrow | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore

Word Count: 5402

A/N: SURPRISE!!!! I've decided to start updating twice a week!!! I would not be cranking these out like I am if it weren't for y'all's support. Thank you so so much for everything, my lovebugs. See y'all on Saturday!!! New update schedule:

Wednesdays and Saturdays @ 3 PM CDT

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You awoke to the sound of your phone ringing, and were shocked by the voice on the other end of the call. “John?!”

“Hi, (Y/N),” he answered. “I know you’re with the boys. I need you to do something for me.”

“John, what the fuck? How did you get my number?” you questioned. “Why didn’t you call Sam or Dean?!”

He sighed. “Because I knew they wouldn’t just let me go. Listen, I need you to take down these names for me.”

You wrapped a jacket around yourself and headed to the boys’ room next door. You banged on it loudly, still talking to John. “Look, sir, I’m sorry, but I have to let them know you called me.”

Sam opened the door. 

“(Y/N), no! It’s too dangerous!” John responded, his voice gravelly. 

“Too late,” you told him. 

Sam had apparently heard his dad’s voice and ripped the phone out of your hands. “Dad? Are you hurt? We’ve been looking for you everywhere. We didn’t know where you were, if you were okay.”

Dean began to wake up with all of the commotion.

“We’re fine. Dad, where are you?” Sam continued.

Dean shot up when Sam said “dad.”

Sam scoffed at something his father said. “What? Why not?”

“Is that Dad?” Dean asked. 

“You’re after it, aren’t you? The thing that killed Mom,” Sam said softly. “A demon? You know for sure?”

“A demon? What’s he saying?” Dean’s voice became almost frantic.

Tears suddenly welled in Sam’s eyes. “You know where it is?... Let us help… Why not?”

Dean extended his hand to his brother. “Give me the phone.”

“Names? What names, Dad— talk to me, tell me what’s going on,” Sam pleaded. “No. Alright? No way.”

Dean grabbed the phone out of Sam’s hands. “Dad, it’s me. Where are you? Why’d you call (Y/N) instead of one of us?...  Yes, sir… Uh, yeah, I got a pen. What are their names?” He began writing on the notepad next to his bed.

Sam shook his head, tears still in his eyes. 

Dean hung up the phone and handed it back to you. “How’d he get your number, (Y/N)?”

“I have no idea; I changed it since I met you guys,” you told him. “That was after your dad disappeared.”

“Why would he call her and not us?” Sam asked his brother.

“He said he knew you wouldn’t just let him go,” you explained. “Said it was too dangerous for me to let you know I spoke to him.”

“Well, thank you for not listening,” Sam told you. 

You gave him a lopsided, sad smile.

***

Later that day, Sam was driving you toward what you thought was your next hunt. Couples had been going missing through the same part of Indiana every year on the second week of April; which just so happened to be this week.

“So, Dad is sending us to Indiana to go hunting for something before another couple vanishes?” Sam asked.

“Yahtzee. Can you imagine putting together a pattern like this? All the different obits Dad had to go through? The man’s a master.” You could tell Dean really respected his father. You had that same respect for your dad when he was alive; you understood completely. 

Sam seemed annoyed, though, and pulled over to the side of the road. He turned off the car. 

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“We’re not going to Indiana,” he responded.

Your eyebrows shot up. “We’re not?”

“No. We’re going to California. Dad called from a payphone. Sacramento area code,” Sam explained.

Dean shook his head. “Sam—”

“Dean, if this demon killed Mom and Jess, and Dad’s closing in, we’ve gotta be there. We’ve gotta help.”

“Dad doesn’t want our help,” Dean protested.

Sam’s voice rose more. “I don’t care!”

“He’s given us an order!”

Sam’s voice was suddenly quieted. “I don’t care. We don’t always have to do what he says.”

“Sam, Dad is asking us to work jobs, to save lives, it’s important,” the older brother argued, incredulous that this was even a conversation.

“Alright, I understand, believe me, I understand. But I’m talking one week here, man, to get answers. To get revenge.”

“Alright, look, I know how you feel—”

“Do you?”

You were shocked by Sam’s tone.

“How old were you when Mom died? Four? Jess died six months ago. How the hell would you know how I feel?”

“Sam!” you scolded. 

“Dad said it wasn’t safe,” Dean continued. “For any of us. I mean, he obviously knows something that we don’t, so if he says to stay away, we stay away.”

Sam scoffed humorlessly. “I don’t understand the blind faith you have in the man. I mean, it’s like you don’t even question him.”

“Yeah, it’s called being a good son!”

“Both of you, stop it!” you ordered.

Sam angrily got out of the car. You looked to Dean who couldn’t meet your eyes before the two of you got out as well.

“You’re a selfish bastard, you know that?” Dean spat. “You just do whatever you want. Don’t care what anybody thinks.”

Sam bit back, “That’s what you really think?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Well, then this selfish bastard is going to California.” He shouldered his backpack and started walking in the opposite direction. 

“C’mon, Sam, get back in the car,” you called to him.

“No, (Y/N), stay out of this,” Sam responded.

“It’s the middle of the night!” you protested.

“Hey, I’m taking off, I will leave your ass, you hear me?” Dean roared.

Sam stopped walking and turned around. “That’s what I want you to do,” he replied coldly.

You watched with bated breath as the two brothers sized each other up.

“Goodbye, Sam.” Dean slammed the trunk closed. He went to get in the car and drive away, but you stopped him.

“Just wait a second, please?”

He nodded.

You sprinted to Sam, giving him a tight hug. He returned it with his free arm. “Bye, Sam. Be safe, please,” you told him.

“What, you’re really gonna stay with him?” he scoffed.

“I don’t have much of a choice—”

“You do, though. You said you were gonna help us find our dad. I’m going to find our dad.”

You backed away from him. “I believe we will find your dad. I think he’s too smart to stay in Sacramento after calling us.”

Sam shook his head. “This is about more than that, isn’t it? You just wanna stay with Dean.”

“No, Sam, that’s not the point—”

“Then come with me.”

Your voice softened considerably. “No.”

The brunet scoffed again. “Goodbye, (Y/N).”

He walked away from you. You hurried back to the car and slammed the door to the passenger’s seat shut. You slumped against the door, and you nor Dean talked for the remainder of the drive to Burkittsville, Indiana.

***

When you arrived, you saw Dean take out his phone and scroll to Sam’s contact. You silently prayed he would click it, but he never did. Alternatively, the two of you got out of the car and made your way over to Scotty’s Café.

Burkittsville was a sleepy little town full of mom and pop shops and not a chain restaurant in sight. The people seemed just as quaint and perfect as their town appeared, including the man on the porch of the café.

Dean gestured to the sign above the man’s head. “Let me guess. Scotty.”

Scotty looked up at his sign and nodded curtly. “Yep.” 

“Hi, my name’s John Bonham,” Dean smiled, “And this is—”

Scotty cut him off before he could introduce you. “Isn’t that the drummer for Led Zeppelin?”

The younger man was taken aback. “Wow. Good. Classic rock fan.”

Scotty’s face was unchanging. “What can I do for you, John?”

Dean took out the Missing Person posters of Holly and Vince Parker, the couple that had disappeared last year. 

You stuck the fliers out to Scotty. “We were just wondering if you’d seen these people by chance? They’re friends of ours, and we just really wanna find ‘em. The cops haven’t done much, and we figured we’d take the investigation into our own hands. We already asked around Scottsberg and Salem—”

Scotty cut you off and looked to Dean. “Does she always talk this much?”

You were offended. “Sorry, I just, I really wanna find my friends.”

Scotty sat back in his chair and huffed. “Haven’t seen ‘em. We don’t get many strangers around here.”

Dean nodded. “Scotty, you’ve got a smile that lights up a room, anybody ever tell you that?”

Scotty eyed him strangely.

“Never mind. See you around.”

The two of you walked away from the man and the café.

“That was awkward, you mumbled. “The fuck was his problem?”

“He was right about one thing, sweetheart, you do talk a lot,” Dean gibed in response.

You shoved his shoulder. “Fuck off.”

Your next stop was the Jorgeson General Store; another one of those mom-and-pop shops. You spoke to the woman behind the counter and her husband about the Parkers’ disappearance. 

“You sure they didn’t stop for gas or something?” Dean questioned.

The older man before you shook his head. “Nope, don’t remember ‘em. You said they were friends of yours?”

Dean nodded.

A young girl bounded down the stairs carrying some boxes. “Did the guy have a tattoo?”

You looked at her surprised. “Yeah, he did.”

The blonde put the boxes on the counter and looked down at the missing posters you were holding. “You remember?” she asked the older couple. “They were just married.”

The old man seemed to remember suddenly, “You’re right. They did stop for gas. Weren’t here more than ten minutes.”

“You remember anything else?” Dean asked, You could tell he was suspicious of these people; as we you.

“I told ‘em how to get back to the Interstate. They left town.”

“Could you point us in that same direction?”

***

“I’m telling you, those people weird me out,” you told Dean as you drove down the old man’s directed route.

“Yeah, no kidding,” he responded. “WASPs.”

“Oh, for sure,” you giggled.

You were cut off by a sound coming from the backseat.

“The fuck?” Dean mumbled at the sound. “(Y/N), care to investigate?”

You nodded, leaning over the backseat and rummaging through Dean’s duffel bag. You pulled out the EMF meter, which buzzed frantically. “Pull over,” you instructed him.

***

The two of you walked through a pretty apple orchard. It was quite large, as were the trees. You had no doubt it stretched for hundreds of acres. You and Dean crunched leaves under your boots and followed the strengthening beep of the EMF meter to a frightening scarecrow. It wore dark clothing; its eyes were hollow and its mouth was sewn shut. The hair it seemed to have was straggly and wild under the brim of its hat.

“Dude, you fugly,” Dean jested.

You giggled, but something caught your eye. The scarecrow held a sickle, and your eyes trailed from it to a design on its arm. “Dean, look.”

He seemed to notice the same thing you did and grabbed a ladder. You held the bottom steady while he climbed up to the scarecrow’s eye level. He adjusted its sleeve to fully reveal the design on its arm. You pulled out Vince’s flier and handed it to Dean. He compared the two, but you already knew the designs would match exactly.

“Nice tat,” Dean told the scarecrow.

“Alright, get out of its face before you piss it off,” you told your friend.

He chuckled. “Yeah, right.” He climbed back down the ladder and you headed back to Burkittsville to investigate further. Dean drove you to the gas station next to a car repair shop where you noticed the young girl from the general store was working.

“You’re back,” the blonde smiled.

Dean replied, “Never left.”

“Still looking for your friends?” she asked.

You nodded.

Dean noticed the nameplate necklace the girl was wearing. “ You mind fillin’ her up there, Emily?”

She grabbed the pump and obliged.

“So, you grew up here?” Dean asked.

“I came here when I was thirteen. I lost my parents. Car accident. My aunt and uncle took me in,” she explained.

“They’re nice people.”

“Everybody’s nice here.”

“So, what, it’s the, uh, perfect little town?”

She nodded and sighed. “Well, you know, it’s the boonies. But I love it. I mean, the towns around us, people are losing their homes, their farms. But here, it’s almost like we’re blessed.”

You nodded. “Hey, you been out to the orchard? You seen that scarecrow?”

Emily shivered. “Yeah, it creeps me out.”

Dean laughed. “Whose is it?”

The girl shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just always been there.”

You nodded toward the red van parked by the garage with its hood up. “That your aunt and uncle’s?”

Emily shook her head. “Customer. Had some car troubles.”

“It’s not a couple, is it? A guy and a girl?” A look of concern crossed Dean’s face, and Emily nodded.

And with that, you thanked Emily, paid her, and headed off to find the town’s next victims: that poor couple. You found them in Scotty’s Café.

“We’re famous for our apples,” Scotty said as you walked in. “So, you gotta try this pie.”

“Oh, no. It— please,” the girl shook her head. The couple’s table was already full of plates.

“It’s on the house.” Scotty’s disposition was much different than the one he’d presented to you and Dean previously.

“Oh, hey, Scotty,” Dean grinned. “Can I get a coffee, black? Oh, and some of that pie, too, while you’re at it.”

You and Dean sat at a table next to the couple. “Mind your manners, please,” you mumbled to him.

“I got it,” he answered. “How ya doin’?” He leaned over to the couple, who waved back and smiled. “Just passing through?”

“Road trip,” the girl replied awkwardly.

“Hm. Yeah, us, too,” Dean said.

Scotty came back over to refill the couple’s drinks. “ I’m sure these people want to eat in peace.”

“He’s just making conversation,” you defended. 

Scotty glared at you and walked away.

Dean was clearly reveling in Scotty’s agitation. “Oh, and that coffee, too, man. Thanks.”

“So, what brings you to town?” you asked the couple. 

“We just stopped for gas,” the girl explained. “And, uh, the guy at the gas station saved our lives.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah, one of our brake lines was leaking. We had no idea. He was fixing it for us,” the man replied.

Dean seemed concerned. “Nice people.”

You didn’t know the first thing about cars, but from the look on Dean’s face, you could tell he knew something was fishy. “So, how long till you’re up and runnin’?”

“Sundown,” the man answered curtly, taking a bite of his food.

“Really.” Dean pondered for a minute. “To fix a brake line?”

The man nodded.

“I mean, you know, I know a thing or two about cars. I could probably have you up and running in about an hour. I wouldn’t charge you anything,” Dean said, chuckling awkwardly.

“You know, thanks a lot, but I think we’d rather have a mechanic do it.” He turned back to the table.

Dean paused. “You know, it’s just that these roads. They’re not real safe at night.”

The couple exchanged a look. 

“I know it sounds strange, but, uh, you might be in danger,” Dean tried.

“Look, we’re trying to eat. Okay?” the man responded, annoyed.

Dean seemed disappointed. He turned to you. “Sam could just give him that puppy dog look and they’d just buy right into it,” he lamented. 

Your heart was saddened; both because you missed Sam and felt for Dean. The bell above the door jingled, and Scotty came out from the back. 

“Thanks for coming, Sheriff,” Scotty told the man who had just entered.

You were beginning to get incredibly agitated with Scotty.  

“I’d like a word, please,” the sheriff told you and Dean.

“Come on. I’m having a bad day already,” Dean grumbled.

“You know what would make it worse?”

And with that, the sheriff escorted you to the outside of town; making sure you kept driving outside of Burkittsville. 

You and Dean were stubborn, though, and returned to the town later that night. You headed to the orchard where you knew the couple was about to become scarecrow food. 

You always had your pistol on you, of course, but Dean had you carry a shotgun loaded with rock salt, too. He grabbed one for himself, and the two of you trekked into the orchard, quickly trying to find the couple. You had seen their car broken down on the side of the road and knew they couldn’t be far. 

“Who’s there?” you heard the man from the diner call.

You and Dean broke off in the direction of the voice. You jumped in front of the couple just before the scarecrow could reach them. 

“Get back to your car.” Dean ordered, aiming his shotgun at the scarecrow. “Go! Go! (Y/N), follow ‘em!”

The couple took off running and you stayed close behind, occasionally looking over your shoulder to make sure it was far enough away. You watched as Dean shot the scarecrow, which stumbled, but kept walking.

You took out your pistol and aimed at the thing. “Dean, look out!” You took a shot at it, too, but it still persisted.

“What the hell kind of thing is immune to rock salt and real bullets?!” you yelled to Dean.

“Go! Go!” He responded, pushing you and the couple forward and out of the orchard. When you turned around for the last time as you had reached their car, the scarecrow disappeared. Even still, you and Dean kept your guns pointed at the orchard’s entrance. 

“What— what the hell was that?” the man from the diner panted.

“Don’t ask!” you told them.

While you stood guard, Dean fixed up the car for the couple and escorted them out of town. The next morning, you and Dean decided to find a local history professor from the next town over to get some information.

“We should call Sam,” you told him.

“I know,” he mumbled.

“Oh-kay, then what are you waiting for?” you asked.

He said nothing in response, but pulled out his phone and dialed Sam’s number. You weren’t surprised when Dean didn’t address their fight at all.

“Yeah, I’m tellin’ ya,” Dean told Sam on the other line. “Burkittsville, Indiana. Fun Town… No. We can’t cope without you, you know… No, it’s more than a spirit. It’s a god. A Pagan god, anyway… The annual cycle of its killings? And the fact that the victims are always a man and a woman. Like some kind of fertility right. And you should see the locals. The way they treated this couple. Fattenin’ ‘em up like a Christmas turkey… Yeah, (Y/N)’s thinking a ritual sacrifice to appease some pagan god... Yeah, yeah. She’s fine. She’s here.”

You smiled at what you knew was Dean responding to Sam asking about you.

“And the scarecrow takes its sacrifice. And for another year, the crops won’t wilt, and disease won’t spread… No, not yet… I know. We’re actually on our way to a local community college. I’ve got an appointment with a professor. You know, since I don’t have my trusty sidekick geek boy to do all the research.” Dean’s tone shifted. “I’m not hinting anything! Actually, uh—I want you to know….I mean, don’t think… Sam. You were right. You gotta do your own thing. You gotta live your own life.”

You eyed Dean curiously as he continued.

“You’ve always known what you want. And you go after it. You stand up to Dad. And you always have. Hell, I wish I—anyway… I admire that about you. I’m proud of you, Sammy… Say you’ll take care of yourself… Call me when you find Dad.”

You took the phone from Dean. “Hi, Sam. I miss you,” you told him.

“Hey, (Y/N/N), I miss you, too. I’m sorry about what I said,” Sam responded.

“Yeah, me too. Be safe, kiddo.”

Sam laughed at your nickname for him. “I will.”

***

You and Dean talked with a sweet, old professor about the pagan god you could potentially be dealing with; feigning that it was for a research paper. He flipped through a large book on the different Norse pagan gods and goddesses, until a scarecrow in one of the drawings caught Dean’s attention.

“Wait, wait, wait. What’s that one?” Dean asked.

“Oh, that’s not a woods god, per se,” the professor answer.

“The V-Vanir?” Dean read off hesitantly.

The professor nodded. 

You read the page aloud. “ ‘The Vanir were Norse gods of protection and prosperity, keeping the local settlements safe from harm. Some villages built effigies of the Vanir in their fields. Other villages practiced human sacrifice. One male, and one female.’ “ You pointed to the picture. “Kind of looks like a scarecrow, huh?”

The professor looked at you strangely. “I suppose.”

“This particular Vanir that’s energy sprung from the sacred tree?” Dean questioned.

The professor seemed confused, but answered you none the less.“Well, Pagans believed all sorts of things were infused with magic.”

“So what would happen if the sacred tree was torched? You think it’d kill the god?”

The old man laughed. “Son, these are just legends we’re discussing.”

“Yeah, yeah of course. He knows that,” you said. “Thank you for your time.” You shook the man’s hand.

“Glad I could help,” he responded.

Dean was the first to hit the door, only to be knocked in the head with a rifle when he opened it. 

“Hey!” you yelled, drawing your gun. The sheriff pointed his back at you. 

“Carrying a gun on a college campus,” the sheriff tsked. “That’s not a good look for you. Why don’t you put that down and come with me.”

You hesitated, but knew he was right. You put it back in your jacket and raised your hands. 

The sheriff aimed his gun at you while two other men he’d brought with him dragged Dean’s passed-out body back to Burkittsville. 

The sheriff’s deputies threw Dean’s body down into a cellar beneath one of the houses near the orchard and shoved you down with him.

“You motherfucker,” you told the man. “So what’s the plan? Huh? Keep us here ‘til nightfall, then, what, let us loose in the orchard? You know that thing won’t be able to catch us.”

The sheriff chuckled at you. “Don’t you worry. We’ll take care of you.” And with that, he shut the cellar doors above your head; blocking the majority of the light out. Your eyes slowly adjusted to the bits of sunlight still peeking through the cracks in the boards. You shoved the cellar doors with all your might, groaning as you did. You tried to get it open for hours with the few objects down in the cellar.

“C’mon!” you cried, frustrated. Nothing you tried worked.

Dean’s groan in pain from behind you caught your attention. You rushed back down the stairs and over to him.

You sat down on the floor beside him, gingerly brushing your hand over the wound on his head. “You okay?”

He propped himself up on one elbow and touched the spot on his forehead with his other hand. “Super.”

“Just try to relax,” you told him, “I wanna make sure you don’t have a concussion.”

“What are you, Nurse Ratched?” he grunted, trying to push away from you. “I’m fine, (Y/N), seriously.”

You huffed. “Will you just let me help you? Please?”

Hesitantly, he obliged. You shuffled closer and positioned your knees under his head. He leaned back into you, and you could have sworn some of the tension left his body when he came in contact with you. 

You brushed his short, spiky hair back with one hand and held a finger over his face with the other. “Follow my finger, please. Without moving your head.”

He did. His eyes tracked your motion well. 

“Okay, now, where are we?” you asked, still stroking his hair.

He scoffed. “What does that have to do with me having a concussion?”

“Just answer the question, asshole.”

He scoffed again, but obeyed. “Uh… some kind of cellar. I’m assuming in Burkittsville.”

“Okay, good,” you said. “Why are we here?”

“That bastard knocked me out at the community college. Fuckin’ professor must’ve called him or something,” Dean grumbled.

“Okay, I think you’re fine,” you told him. 

He sat up from your lap, and you missed the feeling of him against you. “Where’d you learn that stuff from?” he asked. 

You laughed nervously. “I, uh… this is gonna sound stupid, but I was planning on going to school for nursing the year my parents died.”

“Really?” he asked.

“Yeah. They, um. They died without ever knowing I was gonna go to school that fall.” You looked down at your lap.

“So why didn’t you just leave this all behind and go to school? You could’ve been normal, (Y/N).”

“Honestly?” you replied. “Screw normal. I knew that even if I left hunting, I’d never truly feel safe ever again. Besides, the white picket fence isn’t really my style.” You gave him a lopsided smile which he returned.

“What would you have done? If you weren’t a hunter, I mean,” you asked.

He sighed. “I don’t know. I haven’t given it much thought.” He paused and looked off. He thought for a minute before turning back to you. “I think I would’ve been a mechanic. Maybe a marine, like my dad. When I was a kid, though, I wanted to be a fireman.”

You smiled. “I can totally see that for you.”

The warmth that had settled between you was dispersed by the cellar doors opening. You and Dean scrambled to your feet.

“It’s time,” the woman from the general store said.

You shot Dean a nervous look. You could tell he was doing his best to be brave.

The sheriff really liked using the butt of his rifle to hit things. He’d been using it to urge you and Dean forward about the last half mile into the orchard.

“Do you feel powerful with that thing? Manly?” you asked the sheriff. “You can probably do more with it than you can with your dick— Ow!” You were cut off by a sharp whack to the back of your head.

The sheriff sat Dean down and tied his wrists to a tree. 

“How many people have you killed, Sheriff? How much blood is on your hands?” Dean spat.

“We don’t kill them,” was all the sheriff responded with.

“No, you just clean up after,” you broke in as the couple from the general store tied you to a tree next to him. “I mean, how many cars have you hidden, clothes have you buried?” 

The sheriff shot you a glare before walking away from you and Dean.

“Try to understand,” the woman told you, somehow still smiling. “It’s our responsibility. And there’s just no other choice. The town needs to be safe. The good of the many outweighs the good of the one.” She turned away from you, and led the other three men away. 

“I hope your apple pie is freakin’ worth it!” Dean called after them.

“So, what’s the plan?” you asked.

“I’m workin’ on it,” Dean responded.

You leaned your head back against the tree stump. “I can’t believe I’m gonna die like this.”

“(Y/N), do not talk like that. You are gonna be fine. We’re both gonna make it,” Dean responded.

“No, dude, be serious. Neither of us have a plan. We’re toast.”

“I told you, I’m working on it,” he assured you.

***

Hours passed. You tossed ideas back and forth about how to escape, but nothing was working. You couldn’t get through the zip ties around your wrists without scissors or a knife; which neither of you had on you. The sheriff had frisked both of you of all your weapons. Before you knew it, night had fallen. 

“Can you see?” Dean asked. “Is he moving yet?”

You craned your neck, trying to see around the tree stump. “I can’t see.”

Leaves rustled. You and Dean began frantically pulling at your bindings. 

“You hear that?” you squeaked.

“Yeah, I do!” Dean strained against his binds.

And then, Sam emerged from the trees behind you.

“Sam!” you grinned.

“(Y/N)?” he responded, stooping down to you. He immediately set to work untying you.

“Oh! Oh, I take everything back I said.” Dean sounded relieved and overjoyed. “I’m so happy to see you.” 

Sam moved over to Dean next.

You rubbed at your wrists and rolled your neck around as you stood. “How’d you get here?”

“I, uh— I stole a car,” he answered sheepishly.

Dean laughed. “That’s my boy! And keep an eye on that scarecrow. He could come alive any minute.”

“What scarecrow?” Sam questioned. 

You peeked around your tree to see the scarecrow was missing from his post. You and the brothers exchanged nervous looks, and broke off running in the other direction.

“There’s some kind of sacred tree we have to find,” you explained to Sam as you jogged along.

“It’s the source of its power,” Dean added. 

“So let’s find it and burn it,” Sam replied simply.

“Nah, in the morning. Let’s just shag ass before Leather Face catches up,” Dean said. 

The three of you reached the clearing, only to find yourselves surrounded by flashlights and the townspeople.

“This way!” You tried to lead the boys in another direction, but there were more people flanking you from the back. The three of you put yourselves back to back, facing the numerous guns and flashlights that clouded your vision.

“Please. Let us go,” you begged.

The old man from the general store spoke to you. “It’ll be over quickly, I promise.”

“C’mon, man, please!”

The man shook his head. “You have to let him take you. You have to—”

All of a sudden, the scarecrow’s sickle poked out through the man’s stomach. The woman next to him screamed as the scarecrow began dragging the two of them away. The rest of the townspeople began to flee the scene at what they had just witnessed.

“Come on, let’s go!” Dean ordered, and the three of you broke off running again. 

You heard a noise and turned, but the scarecrow and the elderly couple were gone.

“Alright, let’s light this sucker up and get the hell outta dodge,” Dean remarked, picking up a large stick from the ground. The three of you walked a ways before finding a tree marked with Vince’s tattoo design. 

“There!” you pointed at it and took the stick from Dean. Sam poured lighter fluid all over it and you lit the end of Dean’s stick with his zippo lighter. 

Dean threw the stick at the tree, and the three of you watched it go up in flames. “So long, fugly scarecrow.”

You and the boys walked back to the college where the Impala was left. It took hours, and you were exhausted, but the sight of that car had you grinning from ear to ear.

“And the rest of the townspeople, they’ll just get away with it?” Sam asked, seeming unsatisfied.

“Well, what’ll happen to the town will have to be punishment enough.” Dean turned to his brother once you had reached the car. “So, can I drop you off somewhere?”

Sam shook his head. “No, you guys are stuck with me.”

You smiled. “What made you change your mind?” 

“I didn’t. I still wanna find Dad. And you two are still pains in the ass.”

You giggled.

“But, Jess and Mom— they’re both gone. Dad is god knows where. You, me, and (Y/N). We’re all that’s left. So, if we’re gonna see this through, we’re gonna do it together.”

You could sense a witty remark coming from Dean any second. 

“Hold me, Sam. That was beautiful.”

‘There it is.’ You laughed again.

Sam smacked his brother’s shoulder.  “You two should be kissing my ass. You were dead meat.”

“Yeah, right. I had a plan, I’d have gotten out,” Dean responded.

“Oh, sure you did,” you chimed in. “They were just all crap.”

Dean shoved you playfully toward the door of the backseat. You got in and settled down, allowing yourself to be sucked into slumber. 

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @thepocketverse @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @here-for-the-extravaganza @seninjakitey @berarenado

Quite a few tags were broken :(( so sorry!!

[billthedrake]

MY SON THE PORN STAR (PART FIVE)

I tried not to go wild. I still was married and still had my normal corporate guy life in Kansas City.

But doing porn turned out to be addictive. It was the combination of a deep exhibitionist streak I was discovering in myself and the access to incredibly hot men willing to suck me or get fucked by my big tool. It made me feel like a total stud... less middle-aged, I guess.

And work trips were the perfect cover. I really was doing the road warrior thing for my company, so I wasn't lying to Kate THAT much. But I did sometimes add a night to my travels.

Like the week after Easter. I had a business trip to Denver, but I added an extra evening and squeezed in a quick connector flight to San Francisco on my dime with miles. Muscle Pup Mike, my son's friend and escort/pornstar buddy, set me up with a versatile OnlyFans star there. I shot two scenes with him, actually, one oral, one with me masked as we had a nice, long 50-minute fuck scene. I didn't feel a deep chemistry with Kevin, aka "Jeff Reed," but I felt a deep chemistry with the two cameras that were on us. Besides, sex with a muscular 28-year-old hunk was hard to beat.

Turns out, the next night would beat it. I flew to Denver bright and early in the morning and had my sales meeting all day. I was rolling my business-style carry on into my hotel room right around dinner. I undid my tie and sat down to unlace my shoes before calling Kate to check in.

Yeah, I felt pretty bad knowing I was stepping out behind her back. I'd deal with that guilt later. Either stopping porn cold turkey or making a break or separation with my wife. At this point I wasn't ready to do either.

I wasn't a frequent poster, but managed a video every 2-3 weeks. And I had a growing following of fans willing to pay a modest subscription for just that. Sure, I got some comments complaining that I never took my mask off, but apparently I had the body and blond-furred looks a lot of guys went for. And my cock size helped - a lot. I was careful about not talking on camera, or I just edited those parts out, but I'd learned to be verbal with my grunts, to show appreciation for my sucker/bottom and to let viewers get that thrill. It worked.

I sat, alone in that quiet hotel room, thinking just how wild my double life had become, and I fiddled with my phone again. Chicago was an hour ahead and now would probably be a good time to call. I pulled up Travis's contact and FaceTimed him.

"Hey Dad," my son greeted.

"Hey," I said, leaning back and feeling my boner ride up in the crotch of my trousers. "I didn't catch you at a bad time, I hope?"

"Nah," he said. "Just getting back from the gym." Indeed, he had a workout zip-up on and I could see the familiar kitchen from his condo in the back.

"All sweaty?" I teased.

That got a laugh out of my son. He was surprised how horny I was sometimes, how much I'd leaned into this weird affair we had going on. "Something like that. How'd your shoot go?"

"Real well," I replied. "Kevin is a real professional. Made it easy."

"Just a professional?" Travis asked, with a teasing smile on his cute face.

"Just fucking," I said. "Not a ton of chemistry, I'm afraid, but I think I got some good footage for the next two vids." I'd always sent Travis the digital files via encryption, and he did the editing magic on the material. As amazing as my son was at being on-screen talent, he also had a knack for making great porn behind the camera.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Dad," he said. "But I think you're a natural adult performer."

I smiled. "Is that what the kids call it?" I joked.

That made my son laugh. I loved seeing and hearing his laugh. "OK... you're a natural porn star, Dad.... You know, it's really hot to say that. I get so hard watching you perform, you know."

My throat got dry. Travis knew how to work me up. "Jesus, Trav. You have no idea how much I've watched your videos."

That made my son laugh again, those dimples forming. "I have a pretty good idea, Dad. You've told me before."

"I lied," I teased. "I figured if I told you the real number, you'd get freaked out."

"Turned on is more like it, Dad," Travis said. "Why don't you show me how much you like em. You hard now?"

"Rock hard," I said. I turned the phone down to show off the rod forming a ridge in my trousers.

"Fuck," Travis hissed. "My dad has a real porn star dick. I have a shoot in a couple of hours. I'll definitely be thinking of your cock."

"Who's it with?" I asked. This was the wild phase Trav and I were at now. Father and son, lovers, flirts, and professional colleagues in the adult entertainment business.

"Bud and Spike," he said. I recognized the screen names of two muscle daddies from Dallas, into the more hardcore stuff.

I made a wince of an expression. "Go easy with those guys, buddy," I said. "For real." I felt strangely protective of my son. Which was weird, because in general he was the one looking out for me as I began doing porn more regularly.

Travis smiled. "I will, Dad. Promise. We're planning a more vanilla scene than they normally do." He gave me a wink. "Listen, I gotta go get ready, actually."

"All right, buddy," I said. I wished we had time for some phone sex because just talking to Travis was turning me on big time. "I can't wait to see your scene. And I'll be in Chicago in a couple of weeks. We'll catch up then, OK?"

"You bet, Dad," he said. "Love ya."

"Love ya, too, Big Guy."

We hung up.

I let out a hiss of air. I was horny now. Turns out "Jeff Reed" hadn't drained me. I did have a back up idea. There was some University of Colorado kid who'd been emailing me on the anon account Travis set up for me and linked to my OnlyFans. Call me a narcissist, but I'd been eating up the fan mail, and something about this college dude Bryan won me over. Maybe it was the pics he sent. Cute as fuck, brown haired, boy-next-door looks. And the nude pics that showed a surprisingly built body for a college kid - either a jock or someone who hit the college gym regularly. Smooth body with just a dusting of a treasure trail, creamy white skin, washboard abs, hard cock, amazing bubble ass.

Or maybe it was the request that I hit him up if I was ever in the Denver area.

So far I'd only done pro-amateur porn stars in the OF circuit my son and MusclePup Mike worked in. Some of it was the self-justification that it wasn't fully emotional cheating, just porn I was doing. Some of it was caution. All the arrangements went through Mike and because of my mask, no one knew my identity.

But I was horny now and sent this Bryan kid a message. I didn't expect a reply, but it was worth a shot. I set down my phone and undressed to take a quick shower. It was only 6:30, but it had been a long day.

There was a message waiting for me. "God yes, man," Bryan wrote. "I could be there in about an hour and a half," he wrote. Then almost nervously, there was a follow up. "God, I must seem overly eager. But fuck you're so hot. Let me know what works for you."

"How bout 8:30?" I typed back and gave my hotel name and room number. I wanted to get some food in me.

"Awesome. Yeah. See you soon," came the almost immediate reply.

I had only business casual clothes packed, so I got dressed to grab a bite at a restaurant near my hotel. I got back to my room with about ten minutes to spare. I brushed my teeth and checked my appearance in the mirror. I wasn't crazy about getting older, I had to admit, but I could see the "DILF" look that Travis and Mike were always raving about. Well-preserved was the expression, I suppose.

I was actually a little nervous when I heard the knock. I had no business fooling around with a guy like this. Not making a porn vid but actually having a cheating hook up. The messed up thing is that most guys would consider the videos a worse infraction, but this felt naughtier in a way.

Bryan looked great. Better than great. He was cuter than his pictures, and I think his nerves made him more attractive to me. He forced a smile but was shaking.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," I smiled. "Come in, bud."

He was shorter than me, and his size made his collegiate muscle look more compact on his build. Maybe not collegiate wrestler exactly, but definitely that wrestler body type. A little thick, even. MusclePup Mike would have called him a twunk.

"I didn't know what you'd look like," Bryan said softly. His gray eyes were taking me in.

I remembered now he'd never seen me outside of my videos, all masked up. "You came over anyway," I observed.

"Oh yeah," he enthused. "You're my favorite porn star, hands down." He blushed but didn't stop gushing. "You probably know this... I guess most guys don't pay to watch your videos, but I subscribed to your site so I could email you."

"For real?" I laughed.

"Yeah," Bryan replied, that nervous smile growing bigger. "You're not on Twitter or Insta," he explained. His eyes swept up and down my frame. "God, you're even hotter in person. I knew you'd be hot, but... wow."

I was eating up his flattery. "You're not so bad yourself, buddy... bring it in..." I held up my arms to gesture him to come in for a kiss. He did. He was nervous and that turned me on for some reason. But once we started making out, Bryan got real into it, meeting my tongue with his, before practically sucking me into his mouth.

His hands were feeling it up, tentatively at first, then all over. He chuckled as he pulled back so he could feel me up better. I stood there and let his hands roam over my button-down shirt and the gym-toned muscle underneath. At that moment I was VERY glad for the personal trainer Travis set me up with.

"I hope you don't mind my saying," Bryan said, "But it's so wild to be with a porn star."

"Don't mind at all, buddy," I hissed. I was now experiencing the other thrill of doing porn. I knew I was into the exhibitionism of it all, but now I was feeling the hero worshop, the adoration of a young guy like this. I was rock hard.

He gulped as I reached down to undo my khakis, unzipping them and reaching in to haul out my dong. "I guess you really like my cock, then, huh?" I growled.

This wasn't me. At least it wasn't Brad Connors. Married father of three. Road warrior corporate guy. But being MaskedDaddy gave me the sexual confidence and freedom to be someone else.

"Fuck yeah," Bryan gasped as he saw my prick. "That cock's so fucking big..." His eyes were wide, taking in my size before he looked up at me. "OK, if I touch it?"

"I'd be disappointed if you didn't, buddy," I said. "That's why you came over isn't it?"

He nodded, like a chastised kid. Then tentatively he stepped in again and reached forward, like he was afraid of being branded by a hot poker. But once his fingers made contact, the hesitation was gone. The college dude circled his fingers and round me, griping my hardon and gently stroking a couple inches of it to get a feel of the girth and heft. "You don't know how much I've jerked off to your videos," he said. "I wasn't gonna admit to that you, but fuck...." His voice was heavy in his ragged breathing but still had that frat-bro collegiate kind of tone.

"I think we talked about you sucking that dick," I grunted. In our texts, Bryan had offered a blow job, and his presence now was making me really want this. In a surprising way, his realness was making me click with the college kid more than I did with a megahot porn star. Maybe it was the opposite of what Bryan was feeling, where he was living out his porn dream.

"Yeah," he nodded. But he gave me a sheepish shrug. "I, um, don't have a lot of experience."

I patted his cheek. "Give it your best, bud. Please. Daddy's really fucking horny." Yep, this was porn me talking, but it was the magic words for Bryan, who couldn't get down on his knees fast enough.

The young stud actually whimpered as he pulled my dick to his face and began licking it. It was slobbery and impetuous, and his attempt to take me into mouth was more urgent than skilled.

"Easy, buddy..." I urged as he choked a little on my size. "Daddy's got a big cock... take your time."

He nodded and moaned around my prick, flashing those gray eyes up, a little teary. Fuck.

I wouldn't say he got the hang of, but he got a lot more comfortable. Slowly, he sucked me, a few inches at a time, working up the focus to get an extra one back into his throat. The young dude was so excited to blow me, and I was loving this. Slowly I stroked his hair and encouraged him. "That's it, sport... you don't need the training wheels do ya? You go right for the big ones. OH FUCK, that feels nice."

"Yeah?" Bryan asked as he spit out my cock and swallowed the excess spit. I could tell he wanted to make sure he was sucking me right, but more than that he struck me as a young man who craved positive feedback in sex.

"You're doing great, buddy," I said.

There was something about this connection which was night and day different than "Jeff Reed." Bryan was a real guy, a college stud eager for me and not just playing out sex for the camera. And yet...

"You interested in filming this, Bryan? It's SO hot to watch you, buddy."

I could see two reactions in his face at once. A fearful shock at the idea. And an excitement to even consider it. "Oh man," he responded, not giving me a hint which one was the bigger emotion.

I slowly stroked my rod in front of his face, working in his spit over my dong and letting it get steel hard for his gaze. I had toyed with using viagra for my shoots, but even with my size I didn't have an issue getting real hard erections like this. I just loved sex too much.

"If it helps, I packed a spare mask," I offered.

Maybe another dude would have wondered why I had a mask with me, much less more than one mask. But Bryan had been used to seeing me in one, so maybe it just seemed normal to him.

"This is crazy," he said, his fearful look breaking into a smile.

"Is that a yes or a no?" I asked, gently tapping his cheek with my dong.

"Yes," he muttered excitedly before taking ne into his mouth once more.

I let him work me for a few seconds then pulled back. I went to my carryon back and retrieved the masks. I wouldn't need one, I suppose, but I tossed both over Bryan's way while I got my portable tripod, a compact digital camera, and a spare cameraphone, an old Iphone I used for extra handheld footage.

I was worried I was killing the mood setting everything up and fiddling with the lights. But I loved shooting porn, and if anything my dick was harder in anticipation with shooting a different kind of scene. Me with an amateur costar. Even if Bryan wasn't an experienced I just knew this would be a hot video. And if not, I'd enjoy jerking off to it.

Fortunately, Bryan seemed excited too. I could see the excitement in his eyes, even behind the mask. He'd taken his shirt off, maybe to be less identifiable but was on his knees still, hands braced on his thighs. "I can't believe I'm going to be in one of your vids," he said. Yeah, the dude was into this.

I sauntered back, my dick leading the way. "If you're not comfortable with the results, we don't have to post anything," I said, remembering how important that veto power was for my comfort level for my first vid with my son. "Otherwise, I'll take this as your consent."

"Got it," he nodded.

The second his lips touched my prick again, I let out a gasp. He looked up at me, excited, and I took in his green eyes looking up through the mask holes. I pointed the phone camera at him to capture that. I wasn't gonna shoot that angle the whole time, since I preferred to enjoy getting head instead of playing cameraman the whole time. But the snapshots of him looking up would add to the effect.

Bryan's technique wasn't better this time, but his enthusiasm had tripled, at least. I set down the phone and eased my stance back, my posture upright. I was still in my business casual attire as this horny college kid blew me. I urged him to go slower at first with a quick deep grunt.

I heard the guy moan around my meat as something relaxed in his throat and he was able to more steadily take more of my dong into his throat. Working me up and down, I reached behind his head and massaged his scalp through the mask, gently urging him deeper.

"Yes," I choked in response. "Suck me." I'd gotten pretty good at deguising my voice. Using my porn voice. "Suck Daddy."

That did it. Bryan pulled off for a quick breath, then descended all the way down. I'm a big guy, and even some of the OnlyFans studs had a hard time swallowing my sword. But they weren't feeling the crazy sexual thrill this kid was.

He held a second then it was too much, and he pulled off with a sputtering cough. I could see his eyes watering even through the mask holes.

"Sorry," he breathed, as he tried to regain composure.

"It's OK... take your time," I said in my normal voice. Travis would have to edit that out. All for the best. I gave Bryan a second to catch his breath and then I leaned down and met him for a sensual kiss.

"You're doing real good," I said. Then leaning up, I offered my hard dong again. It had gone down a little, but was still pretty heavy. "Ready for more?" I asked.

He nodded. "Yeah," he said, his gray eyes looking back up at me.

His mouth on me got me rock hard once more. I pulled out some to let the camera catch my full hardon, then pushed back in between his wet lips. Bryan was novice, but that was OK. I was turned on from a change of pace from the OnlyFans dudes. This was a real guy, young and eager. I let him suck and get into sucking.

"Yeah," I grunted, I ran my fingers through his hair again and took the chance to push him down on my meat some more.

Byran was up for the challenge. He grunted around my prick but his throat relaxed and swallowed more of my thickness.

I started cumming. I wanted to ride out the orgasm in his college kid's throat but instead I pulled out and shot a couple of jets onto his mask and his lips before pushing back in just a few inches to let him suckle the remaining dribbles of semen.

I caught my breath a half second then picked up the cameraphone again. I hadn't taken too much handheld footage, so now I got a good view of Bryan slurping on my sated meat, licking up and down and outright worshipping my cock. Thankfully I wasn't too sensitive after nutting, and even if I lost a little of my rigidity, my dick kept a heavy firm meatiness that looked good.

I finally pulled back and turned both cameras off. "You were amazing, buddy," I said with a smile.

Already Bryan was pulling his mask off. I was glad. The guy was real fucking cute. "Dream come true for me," he said.

I could tell he was still horned up and at full sexual arousal from servicing me. "Get on the bed, kiddo," I urged. "Lie back."

He didn't seem to know what was going on but he complied. His body was shaking some as I undid his jeans and yanked them down.

"What are we gonna do?" he asked with some apprehension. Still he raised each leg to let me pull off his jeans. And his boxers showed a thick boner beneath the cotton.

"Your turn to get off," I said, not really answering his question.

Still, Bryan nodded and hooked his thumbs in the elastic of his boxers to slide them down. I let him take them off as I stepped into the bathroom to get lube out of my toiletties bag.

Bryan was now lying back on the bed, fully naked, his creamy white muscle looking even better than I anticipated now that he was stripped nude.

"You an athlete?" I asked as I flipped open the cap on the lube.

Bryan's eyes were nervously only the lube. I think I knew what he was worried about, and a part of me enjoyed playing with his nervousness. I'll give him credit, he put on a brave face as his eyes met mine to answer me. "Yeah. Wrestling.""

My guess had been spot on. "It shows," I said. "You have an amazing body."

"Thanks," he said, watching me get on the bed, me making a show of drizzling some lube on his hardon. His dick twitched, untouched, he was so turned on. "You have more the football build."

"Baseball was my sport," I answered. "And golf. But my trainer has helped me bulk up."

"You're my fantasy," he said softly. "The whole package. None of the guys know I'm into this, though." I could read in his face that he wasn't sure if he should be getting emotionally open like this.

I patted his thigh and set down the lube on the night stand with my other hand. I was fully dress, with my cock sticking out of the fly of my khakis still. I wasn't sure I wanted to get off again, but I knew I could. Bryan was hot as fuck, and I was grooving on his clear attraction to me.

"A shame," I winked, trying to make the conversation sexy again. "Maybe you could have some fun. With you coach, too."

That got a laugh from him. Bryan had a sexy smile. "I've definitely thought of Coach. A lot."

I rubbed his legs some more more, outright caressing them now. His quads were solid as fuck, hard brawn that contrasted with the soft collegiate fur. I copped a feel of his ball sac, lightly haired and ran my fingers up the lubey length of his shaft.

"Lift your legs, bud," I urged, my tone friendly even as my words were commanding.

He got that deer in the headlights look. "I've never done this," Bryan said softly.

I had a good idea what he meant. "You a virgin?" I asked. My eyes doing their best friendly look I could manage as I played with his hard dick and his balls. Not stroking him, more exploring his rigid younger dick. Getting him excited to play more.

"For fucking, yeah..." he replied. "Sorry."

I don't think I realized till then how much I wanted to tap this hot wrestler's ass. Maybe his innocence was fueling some of my desire, too. "Not gonna do anything you're not ready for buddy," I said. "Come on, just lift your legs for Daddy."

Maybe that was the magic word, because Bryan leaned back and raised his legs up.

"You can pull em back," I instructed, taking a good look before leaning forward and crouching down.

"Holy FUCK!" the kid gasped at the first swipe of my tongue. His hair down there was light, and I enjoyed the contrast with hairier guys or even the OnlyFans dudes who shaved smooth. It was a delight to lick up and down the trench and then focus more on his tight pucker.

"Jesus," Bryan gasped. He wasn't naturally verbal, but I could tell his mind was being blown. Surprised, maybe a little ticklish but he definitely loved getting rimmed.

I pulled back. That ring was drum tight all right. It made me realize I'd never eaten out a cherry hole before. My son's certainly wasn't virgin. "Go ahead and stroke off," I urged. I relished the ability to speak in my normal voice now that the cameras were off, even as some of my Masked Daddy persona came out anyway. "I want you to come kiddo."

I watched as he excitedly gripped his boner and start to stroke it. Then I dove back in. Not just rimming but fully eating him out, munching the tightness of his asshole.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck," the kid gasped. I knew his orgasm was starting. I held onto the back of his meaty thighs and even pushed back a little to angle him perfectly to got to town with my tongue and my sucking mouth.

"NMNGGH!" came the grunt of his cum. Bryan's whole body was tensing up and I knew he was giving up his load in a big way.

Indeed as I pulled back I saw that beautiful creamy white wrestler muscle sprayed with splotches of his sperm. I began licking it up off his abs and chest, saving it in my mouth before I finally met him in a kiss to share it.

The snowballing caught him by surprise but he was way into it, accepting his own cum then pushing it back into my mouth, our tongues working it back and forth and frothing it up with our own saliva.

He had a big, content smile on his face when finally parted, swallowing what little seed was left on our tongues. "I thought..." he started then stopped himself.

"I know, buddy," I said. I patted his chest gently. "I won't lie... I came THIS close to pushing your boundaries."

He nodded, emotionally raw. I could tell he half wanted me to. But only half. "I know. I don't know how, but I could tell."

His hand reached up and ran along my arm through my button down shirt. "I'll probably be kicking myself for not going all the way. But I wasn't ready," he said.

"It was all great, buddy," I assured him.

"I should go," he said. "I got a long drive back to Boulder."

I pulled back and gave him one last pat as I eyed up his nakedness one more time. Bryan was the real deal. Not a "jock" for pay. I felt a strange emotional connection even with the sexual chemistry. I'd have to process why I was feeling that.

For now, I let him up and I went to piss while he got dressed again. When I stepped back from the bathroom, he was mostly dressed again, and had a dreamy, moody expression.

"Thanks for that... fuck I don't even know your name."

"Will 'Daddy' do?" I asked with a wink.

"Guess it will have to," he said with resignation. "You've made my dream come true."

I stepped up for a final kiss, then I showed him to the hotel room door.

***

I was glad Bryan didn't sleep over. I needed a good rest and I had a busy schedule with my client visit the next day.

It felt like naughty fun messaging Bryan when I got a chance, though. It started off with "had a great time" kind of texts, but Bryan admitted how he wished he'd gone all the way.

"Maybe if you're in town again, I'll have the courage," he admitted.

"I'm in town another night if you manage to get that courage, kiddo."

There was silence on his end. Like an hour and a half before I got another text, and even then it was a half hour before I had a break after my afternoon presentation.

"Sorry," Bryan wrote. "Was in class and my prof goes apeshit if we're on our phones LOL."

I texted. "I worried I'd spooked you."

This time the reply was quicker. "Dude, you don't know how horny I've been all day. You're definitely not spooking me."

I bit my lip and looked around. I probably looked like I was doing business texts on my phone. But fuck I was getting horny too. Somehing about this Bryan kid got under my skin. "Is that a yes?" I wrote. "You gonna give me your cherry?"

I was pushing boundaries now for sure, but Bryan seemed up for it now, more than the previous night. "I wanna. Yeah."

"Daddy wants to get in your hole SO bad, buddy." Then, "I'll go easy on you."

"God yes," came his reply. "I'm hard as fuck now."

God this was gonna happen. One more boundary to push. "Will you let me fuck you on camera?"

There was a pause now. Then, "Masked?"

"As you like," I wrote, almost hoping Bryan wouldn't wear one, even if I knew he would. To coax him, I added, "I'll tell you my first name if you let me film us."

"Deal. LOL."

I looked up. Folks were filing back into the conference room. I hoped my chubbed cock wouldn't show. "I gotta go. But maybe plan for 8:30? I have a work dinner before."

"God yes. I can't believe we're going to do this."

"We're going to do it, Kiddo." I assured him. "I want you so bad."

I got a blushing emoji in return and had to smile. "All right," he wrote. "Talk later."

I went into my meeting and was able to get my mind off Bryan's creamy smooth wrestler build and his cherry hole. Somehow.

I checked my messages after we wrapped up, before heading off to a business dinner. It was close to my hotel thankfully and these things never ran late. I hoped to see a message from Bryan, but there was nothing.

I did google some instructions for preparing to bottom. With the OnlyFans guys and my own son, that routine was down pat, but a newbie like Bryan could use some guidance, and I wanted the ease and comfort of topping a clean hole. I forwarded the site to Bryan.

I held off to one glass of wine during dinner. I wanted a clear head for later. By 7:40 I'd paid the check on my corporate card and bid good night to my client contacts. I had to laugh at myself by how excited I was to get back to my hotel. I did have time to stop at an office supply store and pick up a spare small camera. I figured this scene would be worth the extra vantage point.

Bryan texted when he was on his way. I stripped down from my business clothes and hung them up in the closet. I was rock hard already, and dripping in anticipation. I hadn't felt this excited since my last time with my son. I took a quick shower and put on the plush hotel robe, tying it to cover up my midsection.

I spent the rest of the time setting up the cameras. The lighting wasn't perfect but it was enough.

The knock made me realize I was a little nervous myself. I'd gotten comfortable doing porn, maybe a little too comfortable, but taking Bryan's cherry felt like a certain responsibility. I wanted it to be an incredible experience for him, and I was realizing I was totally green when it came to easing a guy out of his virginity.

Still, the sight of him made my heart beat. He was just so fucking cute and hunky. Particularly was we realized each other was nervous.

"Hey, Daddy," he said stepping in.

"Brad," I said. "You can call me Brad. Or Daddy," I smirked.

Our kiss was soft, surprisingly soft given the act we were about to do.

"You good for his, buddy?" I asked, running my hands along his outer arms.

He nodded. "I'm nervous as hell, but I'll be kicking myself if I don't do it."

"You feel like stripping down?" I asked. "There's a mask for you on the table."

I pulled mine on and then went around made sure all the cameras were on. I was pleased to see Bryan's naked body, that thick muscle lean and compact with just a dusting of hair. God, even with that build he looked every bit the 20 year old he was. Like I say, the real deal.

And I was doubly pleased to see him throwing hard. That thick five spike standing up from his lightly furred crotch, nerves notwithstanding. I watched him pull on his mask. It was a shame the viewers wouldn't see how cute he was but his body rounded out that college jock look for sure.

I pointed the camera at him. "So... we're about to have sex for a video that will be released through OnlyFans. Do you agree for me to share what I film?"

I half expected some questions, but he just nodded. "Yes."

"Good boy," I said with a laugh. That made Bryan chuckle, too, which made me glad. "Why don't you lie on the bed, face down?"

I could sense his nervousness. Maybe he anticipated face to face for his first time. "Don't worry buddy, I'll ease you into this."

He nodded silently and then complied, walking over to the hotel bed, while I filmed him with his natural jock gait. It was hot as fuck, seeing him strut and that ass of his work. Then his full body stretching out face down.

The other cameras would get a good angle - one angled on each side nightstand, the other from behind where I stood, just a little off to the side. I held the camera phone as I stepped closer, letting the camera rove over his strong back and amazing ass, up and down his legs. Maybe more jock-worship footage than we'd use, but Travis could work his magic.

Finally, I stepped back and propped the camera phone off to the side. maybe it would work for another angle. Bryan turned back to look at me, and I got off on how his back muscle flexed with his motion. Stepping up, I ran my hands along his calves, working up the length as I climbed on the bed.

I knew I'd be in good view of the cameras now as I kissed from one side of his hamstrings to the other knotted leg. I took my time working my way up.

Bryan was ready for the rim job now. Hiking his ass up, he parted his legs enough to let me in. My hands gripped his buns and did the rest.

The college kid's sigh was deep and sexual as I began licking. I wanted to put on a show. I loved rimming a guy and sometimes felt there was never enough of it in porn videos. It was always a quick lick before the top was lining up. I went full in now, eating out Bryan for a solid five to ten minutes, alternating speed and tonguework. Sometimes Bryan relaxed and let me do my magic, sometimes he bucked up against my face to maximize the contact.

I pulled back and with a hungry growl gave him a light pat. "Turn over," I urged in my deeper voice. Spittle wetted down the chin of my mask. I really wished he and I could do it without these, but the masks allowed us to fuck on camera, both of us.

I was amazed to see Bryan's prick hard and leaking clear sap everywhere. He was majorly turned on. I pulled up enough to let the cameras get a good view of his ripped, modestly jacked body.

"How many guys have fucked you?" I asked tersely. I sure hoped the "MaskedDaddy" voice was enough fo a disguise.

Bryan didn't change his voice, but his soft response was sexy as hell. "No one yet," he said.

I leaned in and kissed him. Just enough sexual urge, and enough romantic finesse. Bryan responded in turn, sucking my tongue into his mouth and moaning against me. He was nervous, sure, but also getting the case of the major horns.

I loved this, putting on a show and yet connecting one-to-one with this fine young man. I pulled up and muttered, "nice," patting his chest. I rolled off to the side and undid my robe. My hardon bounded out and both Bryan and the camera could see my exposed body with its blond fur. I pulled him to me and we started making out again.

Silently I guided him down and the kid knew what to do. Slowly he began kissing and worshipping my big prick, wetting it down with his tongue before taking me into his mouth. Practice hadn't made perfect, but he was getting much more accustomed to my size and better at blowing me.

I was determined not to get overheated. I just lay back and enjoyed this, the sensation of Bryan's soft, slow blowjob and the view of his nakedness kneeling in front of me in servicing position.

Soon, though, it was feeling too good. I nudged him off. He came up to meet me for a kiss, taking the initiative now, until I regained the upperhand in rolling him back on his back, with me on top. I could feel his hardon against mine and the warmth from his body.

Placing my mouth at his ear, I whispered, "You like being a porn star too, dont ya kiddo?"

"Yeah," he grunted back.

I knew I needed to be a little verbal with him. If the camera picked up my words, Travis could edit them out. "You're just about the hottest guy I've ever fucked, Bry."

His body actually shivered at that. The time seemed ripe. I lifted off and leaned over to pump out some lube.

He let out a hiss of air the second my greased fingers touched his pucker but he didn't flinch. Instead he spread his legs and looked into my eyes. This was gonna be good.

I pushed a digit in. Bryan was real fucking tight. But I worked him slowly. Back and forth, in and out.

"Another," I said curtly.

"God," he hissed as I penetrated him with two fingers. It wasn't bad-uncomfortable for him, but it was certainly unfamiliar to him. We stood still eyes locked, him lying back, me between his legs. Until I started finger fucking him again. I applied more lube and fingered him some more.

Finally I pulled back and removed my robe entirely, slipping it off my body and tossing it aside. Bryan's hands were on me, excited to feel up my DILF body. I let him. Between his attention and the cameras I was getting real excited. I was the one dripping now. I caught a thick thread of precum in my fingers and brought it down to his virgin hole. I fingered him up with that too.

The third finger was slow going, but I got him to relax.

"No rubber?" I have asked and half said.

"No sir," came his excited reply.

I was gonna get blue balls soon if I didn't fuck. I scooted up and pressed my prick head in place. I pressed super slow against his ring, working against the spit-slick tightness and smearing my precum against him.

I could feel Bryan's body shake beneath me, and he looked up, a real deer-in-the-headlights look in his eyes beneath the mask. I worried if I waited longer his nerves would get the best of him. I pushed in.

"UNNH!" he whimpered loudly. I felt bad the entry hurt and bad that he was doing his bravest to pretend it didn't.

"Easy, bud..." I hissed, reaching down to run my hands along his hot body. This fine young man was giving me a major gift. My prick jerked an inch or two inside him, feeling the tightness of his ass clamping down on him, as I held still, then gave the shallowest of thrusts, back and forth more than in and out.

I looked at him, trying to communicate silently. Then I leaned in, pushing his legs back with my body. "You're doing good," I said.

We kissed. My cock slipped out of its toe hold but I didn't care. He needed this, and I wanted it. This was about the only time I lost track of the cameras. When I wasn't putting on a show. I connected with this college kid in a deep, soulful kiss. And kissed him som more.

I pulled back. This time I didn't rush, but I didn't delay. I pushed back into him. Bryan somehow trusted me, because his ring gave way more easily. He was virgin tight a few inches inside, but I gently thrust back and forth, working that knot inside him. I pulled out and added more lube. Now showing off for Bryan and the cameras both. Then I placed his ankles on my shoulders.

"OOH FUCK!" Came his cry when I broke through. But he wasn't in pain, just overwhelmed by feelings he didn't have word for. I plowed all the way in and held it. I could see his muscular chest rise and fall, taking deep breaths.

"Got your cherry, kiddo," I hissed.

"Thank you," he actually replied, his voice heavy in emotion. That got me going. My dick felt like stone inside his warm, tight guts.

"Feel good buddy?" My hands massaged his calf muscle as I looked down on him and restrained myself from just plowing his hot ass.

Bryan nodded.

I pulled and out thrust in. Then again. I was fucking for real now. Bryan's first fuck. Maybe more than he bargained for when he came over the previous night. But I knew this was his deep fantasy and why he reached out to me.

I wasn't hard or rough, but I fucked with a steady determination. I wanted to give this kid the best first time experience possible now. I puffed my chest and used more of a swivel action of my hips, in and out, in and out, as my eyes stared down at him. I'd probably read his facial reactions better without the mask, but his eyes and mouth were enough. I was getting to him, hitting that spot.

I paused just a second and reached to pump out more lube. This went onto his prick. He gasped as I slicked him up then got the picture once I pulled my hand away.

I grabbed a pillow and slid it underneath his hips. It made for the perfect angle, and I took quick advantage, resuming my steady plow of Bryan's no-longer virgin hole.

Turns out his masturbation was just what Bryan needed, flipping the switch to full pleasure now.

"Yeah?" I asked. Fucking heavier now.

"Yesss," the college hunk hissed back. He was jerking faster now, not frantically but eagerly and in synch with the fuck.

I saw his pisslit dilate and a clear spurt fly out. Not his ejaculation yet, but the prelude.

"Fuck yes," I grunted, throwing my hips into harder pounding. I was getting close to the finish line, and I wanted to speed up to catch up with this stud.

My harder thrusts felt amazing giving how much his ass was clenching and releasing on my dick spasmodically. But it really made Bryan's prostate sing. His pale skin grew pink and flush and his wrestler muscle tensed up.

"Shit!" he yelled and timed with each shove his nuts gave it up, and his prick spurted heavy ropes of semen over his perfect body.

I went at it even harder, leaning in some, powering my hips in rapid jabs. I didn't say anything but my grunt was unmistakeable as I shoved in and unloaded. My cum threw off my rhythm, but I held deep a second, then my hips jerked involuntarily for another hard shove to discharge my seed deep inside Bryan.

The kid winced at that one, which made me feel bad. I got myself under control and held myself steady, gently massaging his leg and then easing back. He'd been a trooper but now needed a break. I leaned back and showed off my slickened dong, though most viewers eyes would probably be on the cum-covered collegiate muscle of my bottom.

Leaning over I picked up one of the cameras. Time for the money shot.

Even if Bryan wasn't an experienced bottom, he'd watched enough porn to know what I was after. Rather than drop his legs down, he pulled them back, spreading them enough to show me and the camera his fucked and seeded hole. No longer drum tight, it has a slight gape and was thick with my cum. I'd shot a lot.

I got a good shot of it, then angled the camera up to capture his whole ripped and cum-wet body. Nothing would ever top watching my own son in porn, but Bryan was a close second.

I finally set down the phone and pulled off my mask. That was the cue Bryan was waiting for and he eagerly peeled his off.

"You OK, buddy?" I asked. My normal voice returning.

He nodded. "God yeah. I'm so glad we did that."

I gave a sly nod to the camera. "Your first time's preserved as a memento," I said. A little teasing in my voice, but checking in where his head was.

He smiled and god he was so fucking cute with that pearly white smile. "I didn't think I was gonna enjoy it at first," he admitted. "But damn..."

I ran my fingers through the cum that had turned liquidy on his chest. "You shot like gangbusters," I said.

"My cums are pretty big normally," he said. "But your dick did something inside me that made me go wild. I've never felt anything like that."

"I'm glad," I said. I leaned forward for another kiss, this one tantalizingly soft and slow.

Afterward, I let Bryan get up and shower off while I checked my phone. Then I figured I'd join him. The look on his face told me my presence was quite welcome.

"Hey," he grinned, shyly. God, he was star struck and that made me feel like a real stud.

"Hey," I said. Our wet bodies connected and we took the time to soap each other down.

"You married to a man or a woman?" he asked as he nodded to my gold band.

"A woman," I said. "I'm not the best husband."

He gave a nod of acknowledgment. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm glad you share yourself."

"I have news for you kiddo," I said, turning off the water and running my hands over his wet muscled body. "You've shared yourself now, too."

"Still can't believe it," he said. "When will you post it?"

"In a couple of weeks," I said. I wasn't going to bring up Travis or my process for putting the vid together.

His hands reached up to feel my body too, my chest but also my shoulders and arms.

"I'm hard again," Bryan said. "I can't believe it."

"You're 20," I joked. "It happens."

"Yeah," he laughed.

I patted his arm. "Feel like sleeping over?" I asked. "I have a morning flight to catch but you're welcome to stay."

He nodded, like an eager puppy. We dried off and made our way back into the room. I downed a bottled water to rehydrate and tossed him one. "Remind me to tip housekeeping extra," I said as I pulled down the sheets. "We made a fucking mess."

He slipped into the bed next to me. His body was cooler now, and felt great against my warmer bod. We made out. His dick was a spike and I got hard once more, but I wasn't eager for another fuck. And Bryan seemed to go with the flow.

"So..." I finally said. "No longer a virgin..."

"No sir."

"Any regrets?" I asked, leaning back in the bed against the headboard, pulling my hands behind me. Bryan nestled in, resting his head against my upper chest and running his hands along my fur.

"None. It was hot as fuck," he said. "But even if it hadn't been, I just feel relieved, you know?"

"Not exactly," I smiled knowingly.

"Ha," he said, picking up on my meaning. "I'm surprised your so good at breaking a guy in if you're cherry too."

"I'd like to say I had some secret," I admitted, "But I just did what felt right."

Maybe it was the sex. I mean it was getting late, but not that late. Bryan was dozing some as he rested up against me. I ran my fingers through his hair.

"Ready for bed, kiddo?" I asked.

"Yeah, Brad," he said and rolled off to the side.

***

My son did his magic crafting two separate scenes from the footage with Bryan, as well as a very hot teaser. "Taking College Jock's Cherry" was the title of the second. The on-screen chemistry was real, and it was clear that we weren't faking it. I really did take the young dude's virginity on screen.

"God, Dad, this is fucking incredible," Travis said to me on the phone before he posted the scene. "I've shot three times to it."

I smiled. I was in a semi-public place and had to be a little discrete. "I'm very glad to hear that," I smirked. "A little payback to the one you did the other week."

"Bud and Spike?" he asked.

That one was one was OK, but not my favorite. "No, the other one," I said, cagily.

That got a laugh from Trav. "Oh, MiamiMuscles... dude's a crazy power bottom, right?"

"Yeah," I said, my throat getting hoarse with lust I was trying to hide. "I like watching you in action like that."

Travis picked up on my need to be discreet, though he had no constraints on his end. "You prefer watching me fuck, Dad?"

God, my son knew how to drive me crazy. "I do," I admitted.

I detected a hesitation on his end, which wasn't Travis's normal response to anything. He paused. "Dad... you ever think about, you know, me fucking you?"

Just hearing those words were going make me go from chubbed to boned. "It's a little scary to think about," I replied. "But yeah... I do."

"Oh fuck," Travis hissed. Only then did I realize he'd been dreaming of that very act. Topping me. Taking my anal cherry, like I'd done with that Denver kid. It surprised me actually, given our bedroom chemistry with my son bottoming for me, eager for his dad's cock. "We'll talk about it next time, OK?" he said. Not pressuring me but letting me know this was on his mind.

"Yeah," I said. "I'll probably chicken out, son. But I wanna explore the idea." I was nervous just vocalizing this.

"Sure, Dad," Trav said. "God you know I love everything we'd done together. If I were there right now, I'd suck your cock, you know that." My son was getting into deep lust mode now.

"Fuck, Trav, I should probably go," I said. I knew if I kept talking like this, I'd get in trouble. "Later, son?"

"Yeah, Dad," he replied, his voice rich with lust. I knew he was probably going to jack off when I hung up. I was going to find the time myself at the first chance. Pull up one of Travis's videos where he topped and stroke off imagining him pounding me, too.

****

My Denver videos were popular. I wasn't surprised that my fans responded to the realness of them, but I was surprised by the messages I got. They changed my porn career and it's probably not an overstatement to say they changed my life.

The first one came two weeks after the video with Bryan dropped.

"Dear MaskedDaddy, I loved your latest video. God, it's like my deepest fantasy. I'm 23 and live in DC. I don't have that college jock's bod, but I'm working on it. I've been too scared to let a guy fuck me, but if you want to be my first, I'd love to star in one of your vids. I wouldn't even need a mask."

It was a wild email, and I figured the kid's horniness doing the thinking for him. I pawed my crotch and laughed at how forward the offer was. I started to send a polite thanks but no thanks reply.

But then I thought about it, and I figured what the hell. I asked for the young dude's pictures. He was cute as fuck. Not quite as twunky as Bryan but still good looking, kind of that boy-next-door type.

Travis handled the OnlyFans money my site brought in. I didn't do porn for the money, and in any case I didn't want my finances impacted lest Kate find out.

I sent two more texts that night. One to DC guy. "If you're serious, lets plan for something three weeks from now." I knew I had some work travel on the East Coast I could piggy back on.

My other I sent to Trav. "I need your help arranging a DC visit. Gonna pop another dude's cherry."

[jellinuy]

toji with prompt 5 pretty please

( deadbeat dad /j. )

౨ৎ incl. toji fushiguro.

౨ৎ a/n. i KNOW what my bio says but i'm multifaceted. literally so in love with this deadbeat and i hope it shows.

The second time Toji ever felt love was when he looked into Tsumiki’s big, brown eyes for the first time.

Then the third came with a small head of black hair and the name he’d chosen long before he'd known whether his kid would be a boy or a girl: Megumi.

From then on, life was a journey for him.

Growing up, Tsumiki was much calmer than Megumi, who would fuss and cry at every little thing. His papa wouldn't read to him long enough? He'd bawl his eyes out. He couldn't reach the fridge handle because his legs were too stubby? Waterworks. His toy was missing after he'd been the one to misplace it? He'd throw a fit.

Toji would honestly curse himself for even thinking he could fall asleep for more than 20 minutes before his son would toddle into the room, promptly disturbing his dad's nap by pouncing onto his stomach or latching onto his arm.

You, however, found it pretty funny.

"Shit's not anythin' to giggle about," Toji would grumble at you, his beauty sleep interrupted as you laughed, glaring at Megumi as he clambered onto his father's chest, bouncing his bottom up and down and beating on him with his tiny fists.

There have been multiple instances where Megumi's been in a good mood, though. You'll never forget the pictures you took of him napping, holding his big sister's hand in his smaller one as they both rested on top of Toji's large chest, his hands cradling both their heads while he snored.

Toji is so bad at not cursing in front of his kids. It's a horrible habit, but he can't seem to grasp the fact that 4-year-olds aren't supposed to be saying the same unsavory words that roll off his tongue so easily.

"Fuck!" he'd let it slip a few times when he accidentally hurt himself, and in typical kid fashion, they were always around to hear something they shouldn't.

"Fuk?" The fact that Megumi was the very picture of innocence while such a filthy word came tumbling out of his mouth (and paired with a smile!) rattled his father.

"What's 'fuck'?" Tsumiki asked, barely much older than her brother. Toji could only pray you didn't hear that.

"Wh— not so loud! Don't repeat that shi— that stuff. Yer gonna get me in trouble with Mama."

(you indeed did hear and he got his ass beat later)

Calls Megumi and Tsumiki 'rugrats.'

He didn't realize just how little time he'd have for romance with his kids around. Every single time Toji leans in to press his lips on his yours, no matter where you two may be, they come running from around the corner (apparently, they'd been watching for a while), darting between your legs and making fake retching noises as they giggle at the scowl on their dad's face.

Toji's the kind of dad to lose one kid in the store, turn around to ask the other kid where their sibling went, only to find them both gone LMFAO.

Stiffens up when he hears an "I love you," or even when he receives a hug from either one of his children. Hugs take some coaxing from you, but he doesn't dislike them (he'd never admit it, what with his tough guy persona, but Toji's kids make him so soft inside.)

[sirfrogsworth]

I will never not be enamored by gadgets.

I got a sprinkler timer so I wouldn't have to go out twice a day to water my new patch of sod. And I still go out and watch it turn on because my brain gets excited when it works as advertised.

That said, I don't think I was meant to take care of plant life.

I am struggling.

This all started with the idea that I could turn my backyard into a dog park. There is an app that lets you invite people to use your yard and pay a fee. But I needed to get rid of a bunch of overgrown plants and I had to close off the bottom of our deck because dogs could hide under there.

So I hired a landscape guy to remove the plants and put up a barrier around the deck. And that went as planned.

But I also asked him to remove this weird plant in the middle of our yard because I wanted the doggos to have more space to run around.

But this didn't quite work out as I hoped.

One rainstorm later...

So, we got a Shaq's worth of sod and covered the mud pit.

But I have to take care of this sod.

And I am not good at taking care of things on my own.

And I don't really know how to take care of sod.

The first issue was finding a garden hose that would reach out there. All of our hoses are very old. And I tried connecting a few of them together and that seemed to work okay. But I didn't have a sprinkler. So I bought a highly rated one on Amazon.

And it was the most powerful sprinkler in existence. Way too powerful. And setting it up required getting absolutely soaked.

So I got a much smaller sprinkler that only covered the area with the sod. But tonight the spot where the two hoses connected started leaking like crazy. That old hose finally failed and lost structural integrity. But the single hose was not long enough to reach that area. So the only way I could water it was by using this crazy fire hose attachment that I found in the garage. It can shoot water over a 100 feet away.

Like, seriously, Dad... why did you buy this crazy thing?

This could put out oil well fires in Kuwait.

After some sitcom-level antics of trying to attach the nozzle and getting soaked again, I finally got it working and was trying to eyeball watering that patch of sod from the other side of the yard. But it was getting dark and I couldn't really see what I was doing. And when I finished the requisite 20 minutes of watering I went to inspect the sod to make sure the water actually made it there.

And boy did it.

Friends, it was soaked.

Several puddles formed on top of the sod. Apparently that fire hose nozzle shoots out a ton of water and I drowned my little patch of sod.

I really hope I didn't kill it.

I guess I'll check on it in the morning.

This venture has turned into a money pit. It is going to take years of my yard being a dog park to break even. And I don't even know if dogs will come here. I can't even get a handyman to my house.

[mepuppy]

Let It Ride - Supernatural rewrite

So, apparently I have nothing to do (ignore all my responsabilities) and I decided to write a Dean X Reader rewrite of supernatural to go with my rewatching of supernatural. 😊

I do not own the characters, nor the storylines. I'm simply adding a twist to the episodes. Please feel free to help me out with constructive criticism on the story or the writing. Sorry for the mistakes, not proofread and english is not my first language.

Hope y'all enjoy it.

Word Count: 7k

1x01 - Pilot

KINDE, MICHIGAN - April 10, 1988

John Winchester and Martin Creaser were finishing setting up to go into a vampire’s nest. Martin received a tip on the nest around the area and called John for backup, so the man left the two boys in the motel a city over and met with his friend there. 

After Martin spread the ashes of the scent-blocking mixture on himself, he handed John for him to do the same. 

“How many did you say?” He asked in a whisper to his friend, even though he knew whispering wouldn’t do shit if a vampire was close enough to hear them.

“If I’m not mistaken, 10 or 12.” He said, grabbing his knife, “Ready?” he asked as he closed the trunk of the car.

As they entered the warehouse where the nest was located, as quiet as they could be, they started to hear some voices. The vampires were all anxious, the newest ones had brought a family for dinner, including a child, which was already unusual, but the child had gotten away.

“Kevin will actually kill us when we don’t find the human child.” one of them said.

“So get off up and go find her. He and the others gave us 30 minutes” the other replied.

As the 2 hunters got to a corner, where they could see the glow of a fire already, they looked at each other, asking, silently, if the other was ready. John made a mental note to see if the girl had actually survived when they were done. They nodded to each other and started with the two that were already there arguing.

Twenty minutes later, 11 vampires dead, 7 nasty scratches on the hunters and one broken rib for Martin, they had cleared the nest. John was looking for the human child for less than 10 minutes, and after a promise to not hurt her and explaining what he did for a job and what had happened she came out of a pile of something very stinky, the reason they weren’t caughting her scent easily.

John, very impressed by the 7 year old ability of running and hiding from a nest of vampires, without even knowing such things existed before this experience, took her to the motel with him, to decide later, what to do with her.

17 Years Later

Y/N was at Bobby’s house, the hunter who was as much of a father figure to her as John was, since she spent many days at his house growing up with Dean and Sam, when she received the text from Dean saying he was going after Sam. She knew John hadn’t checked in with Dean in a few days now, and the son was getting more anxious by the hour. She asked him to let her know when he decided to go after the older man.

She was going with him to find his father. She owned John as much. After her parents were killed by a nest of vampires, by the age of seven, and she ‘escaped from something some trained hunters wouldn’t’, as John liked to put it, he cared for her, along with his boys. The three of them grew up together after that. She became a daughter for him, and he, a father to her. So she was very worried for him.

As she finished loading her saddlebags on her Harley, the one Dean had fixed for her one summer, Bobby came out of the house and handed her the last of her pocket knives. 

“Do I have to tell you to be careful out there?” the older hunter asked.

“Always am.” She smiled warmly and closed the bags. Circling the bike and hugging him. “I’ll check in as soon as I meet the boys.”

“Don’t know if Sam will join you. He has always been a hardhead, and you know it.” he kissed the top of her head before letting her go.

“It’s his dad, I’d like to think he will take this into consideration.” she answered, throwing one leg over her bike, but her voice lacked conviction.

“Say hi to them for me.” Bobby said as she started the engine on and began driving.

“I will! Bye”

Meanwhile Dean was trying to convince Sam to go find their dad, on the outside of his apartment.

“Come on. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't that bad.” Dean says as he started going downstairs again while Sam follows him.

“Yeah? When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45.” Dean stops at the door.

“Well, what was he supposed to do?

“I was nine years old! He was supposed to say, don't be afraid of the dark.” Sam says exasperated, not believing he is having this conversation.

“Don't be afraid of the dark? Are you kidding me? Of course you should be afraid of the dark. You know what's out there.” Dean answers scolding his little brother.

“Yeah, I know, but still. The way we grew up, after Mom was killed, and Dad's obsession to find the thing that killed her.” the youngest says and Dean glances outside. “But we still haven't found the damn thing. So we kill everything we can find.”

“We save a lot of people doing it, too.” he looks at his little brother.

“You think Mom would have wanted this for us?” Dean rolls his eyes and slams the door open heading outside. There's a short flight of stairs from the door to the parking lot. Dean and Sam start climbing it. “The weapon training, and melting the silver into bullets? Man, Dean, we were raised like warriors.”

“So what are you gonna do? You're just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it?” Dean says as they cross the parking lot and head to Baby, Dean’s Impala.

“No. Not normal. Safe.”

“And that's why you ran away.” Dean looks away after finishing.

“I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing.” 

“Yeah, well, Dad's in real trouble right now. If he's not dead already. I can feel it.” after a pause, Dean says “I can't do this alone.”

“Yes you can.” Sam says as Dean looks down.

“Yeah, well, I don't want to.” Sam sighs and looks down, thinking. He meets his brother’s eyes again.

“What was he hunting?” Dean opens the trunk of the Impala, feeling a bit more hopeful, then the spare-tire compartment. 

“All right, let's see, where the hell did I put that thing?” Dean says as he props the compartment open with a shotgun and digs through the clutter.

“So when Dad left, why didn't you go with him?”

“I was working my own gig. This, uh, voodoo thing, down in New Orleans.” Sam looks incredulous to his brother.

“Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?” Dean looks over at Sam.

“I'm twenty-six, dude.” it’s his time to look incredulous to his brother as he pulls some papers out of a folder.”All right, here we go. So Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy.” he hands one of the papers to Sam. “They found his car, but he vanished. Completely MIA.”

The paper is a printout of an article from the Jericho Herald, headlined ‘Centennial Highway Disappearance’ and dated Sept. 19th 2005; it has a man's picture, captioned ‘Andrew Carey MISSING’. Sam reads it and glances up.

“So maybe he was kidnapped.”

“Yeah. Well, here's another one in April.” Dean tosses down another Jericho Herald article. “Another one in December 'oh-four,” another article “'Oh-three,” another one “'Ninety-eight,” another “'Ninety-two,” one more “ten of them over the past twenty years.” he throws a pile of the lats articles. Dean takes the article back from Sam and picks up the rest of the stack, putting them back in the folder. “All men, all the same five-mile stretch of road.”

Dean pulls a bag out of another part of the arsenal.”It started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. I hadn't heard from him since, which is bad enough.” Dean grabs a handheld tape recorder. “Then I get this voicemail yesterday.”

He presses play. The recording is staticky and the signal was clearly breaking up.

“Dean...something big is starting to happen...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger.” John's voice comes and goes and then Dean presses stop.

“You know there's EVP on that?” Sam asked.

“Not bad, Sammy. Kinda like riding a bike, isn't it?” Dean grins at his brother and Sam shakes his head. “All right. I slowed the message down, I ran it through a gold wave, took out the hiss, and this is what I got.” He presses play again.

“I can never go home…” a woman’s voice comes up this time and Dean presses stop.

“Never go home.” Sam repeats more to himself than his brother.

Dean drops the recorder, puts down the shotgun, stands straight, and shuts the trunk, then leans on it. “You know, in almost two years I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing.” he tilts his head “Besides, even Y/n/n is coming to help. This is serious, I can feel it.”

Sam looks away and sighs, then looks back. “All right. I'll go. I'll help you find him.” Dean nods. “But I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here.” Sam turns to go back to the apartment. He turns back when Dean speaks.

“What's first thing Monday?”

“I have this...I have an interview.” he answers.

“What, a job interview? Skip it.” the older brother says.

“It's a law school interview, and it's my whole future on a plate.” Sam tells him.

“Law school?” Dean smirks.

“So we got a deal or not?” Dean says nothing.

Jericho, California

After driving the whole night and stopping to grab some breakfast, Y/N passes by a bridge full of police officers and spots Baby by the road. She gets off the bike and leaves her helmet on the seat.

“You did have another one just like this, correct?” Dean’s voice is the first one she hears.

“Yeah, that's right. About a mile up the road. There've been others before that.” the officer closer to them says.

“So, this victim, you knew him?” Sam asks and the officer nods.

.

“Town like this, everybody knows everybody.” he says as Dean circles the car, looking around.

“Any connection between the victims, besides that they're all men?” Dean asks.

“No. Not so far as we can tell.”

“So what's the theory?” She asks when she reaches the three man.

“And you are?” the deputy turns around and asks when they all spot her.

“Oh, she’s with us.” Sam covers for her going over to Dean.

“I see. Honestly, we don't know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?”

“Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys.” Dean says, receiving a stomp on foot from Sam.

“Thank you for your time.” Y/N says and starts walking away, being followed by Sam and Dean, shaking her head.

“Gentlemen.” Sam dips his head passing by the police officers. The deputy Jaffe watches them go. Dean smacks Sam on the head.

“Ow! What was that for?” Sam gets startled and cradles his head.

“Why'd you have to step on my foot?” The older asks.

“Why do you have to talk to the police like that?” y/n asks over her shoulder once they are out of earshot from all the officers.

“Come on. They don't really know what's going on. We're all alone on this. I mean, if we're going to find Dad we've got to get to the bottom of this thing ourselves.” Dean says before Sam clears his throat and looks over at y/n.

“Hey, y/n/n. I missed you” he smiles.

“Well, you wouldn’t have had to if you kept in touch.” She turns crossing her arms “Or at least if you answered your messages.” she scolds him.

“I know, I’m sorry. But I thought you’d be mad at me for leaving.” he looks down. 

But before y/n could answer she looks to her side and sees the Sheriff FBI agents.

“Can I help you kids?” the sheriff asks.

“No, sir, we were just leaving.” Dean answers and as the FBI agents walk past him, he nods at each of them. “Agent Mulder. Agent Scully.”

The three of them head back to Baby and the Harley and head out.

“Hey Chip, how’ve you been?” Dean asks you and pulls you into a hug when you get close enough

“I missed you too, Cherry Pie” you hug him back, retorting the stupid nicknames you have called each other since childhood. “You too.” she says to Sam after her and Dean let go, opening her arms to him.

“It’s been a while.” he says, hugging her.

“Ugh, I hate how tall you’ve gotten…” she says rolling her eyes when they let go. The boys chuckle “So, what are you guys thinkins?”

“The deputy’s daughter was dating the victim, so we thought about starting to asking her some questions” Dean says “And I'll bet you that's her.” he says pointing to the girl hanging posters.

“Yeah.” Sam agrees when they start walking up to the young girl.

“You must be Amy.” Dean says as they reach her.

“Yeah.” She answers

“Yeah, Troy told us about you. We're his uncles. Ans aunt. I'm Dean, this is Sammy and that’s y/n.” he points to the two of you as he speaks and the two smile at her.

“He never mentioned you to me.” Amy starts to walk away. The three of them start walking with her.

“Well, that's Troy, I guess. We're not around much, we're up in Modesto.” Dean chuckles. ‘Nice save’ y/n thinks.

“So, we're looking for him too, and we're kinda asking around.” As Sam tells her another young woman comes up to Amy and puts a hand on her arm.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asks Amy and the girl nods.

“You mind if we ask you a couple questions?” y/n asks the girl who looks at her and nods again.

They all head to a dinner and seat in a booth, Amy and her friend seat on one side, and Dean, y/n and Sam seat opposite to them.

“I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and...he never did.” Amy is telling them after y/n asked about the last time she spoke to him.

“He didn't say anything strange, or out of the ordinary?” Dean asks and Amy shakes her head before saying.

“No. Nothing I can remember.”

“I like your necklace.” Sam says pointing to her neck.

Amy holds the pendant she's wearing, a pentagram in a circle, and looks down at it. “Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents—” the girl laughs “—with all that devil stuff.”

Sam laughs a little and looks down, then up. Dean looks over while y/n assess the girls.

“Actually, it means just the opposite. A pentagram is protection against evil. Really powerful. I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing.” Sam says.

“Okay. Thank you, Unsolved Mysteries.” Deansays taking his arm off the back of y/n seat and leans forward. “Here's the deal, ladies. The way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So if you've heard anything…”

The two girls look at each other. They were hiding something and the trio could see it.

“What is it?” Dean asks frowning.

“Well, it's just... I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk.” Amy’s friend speaks for the first time since they got into the dinner.

“What do they talk about?” Dean and Sam speak in unison.

“It's kind of this local legend. This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago.” Dean and y/n look at each other while Sam looks at the girl attentively, nodding. ”Well, supposedly she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever.”

The trio thanked the girls and leave the dinner, deciding to go to the library.

A web browser is open to the archive search page for the Jericho Herald. The words "Female Murder Hitchhiking" are typed into the search box. Dean clicks GO; the screen tells him there are "(0) Result". Dean replaces "Hitchhiking" with "Centennial Highway" with the same response. Samis sitting next to him, watching. 

“Let me try.” Sam says and tries to type but Dean smacks his hand.

“I got it.” he says and y/n rolls her eyes, standing behind their chairs. Sam shoves Dean's chair out of the way and takes over. “Dude!” hitting Sam in the shoulder. “You're such a control freak.”

“So angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?” Sam asks looking at the screen.

“Yeah.” y/n answers looking down at the boy.

“Well, maybe it's not murder.” Sam replaces "Murder" with "Suicide" and finds an article entitled "Suicide on Centennial". Dean glances at Sam and y/n glances at Dean grinning. Sam opens the article, dated April 25, 1981.

“This was 1981. Constance Welch, twenty-four years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river.” Sam says while skimming through the article and y/n leans over his shoulder to read it as well.

“Does it say why she did it?” Dean asks trying to see it too.

“Yeah.” Sam answers.

“What?” he asks looking at his brother.

“An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Apparently her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing. Both die.” y/n reads through the article ans Dean raises his eyebrows.

Dean murmurs. "'Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it,' said husband Joseph Welch." Sam read a passage while Dean pointed at a picture of the bridge they were earlier talking with the police officers on the corner.

“The bridge look familiar to you?” he looks over at the two.

They all headed to the bridge and are walking along it, they stop to lean on the railing and look down at the river. The smell of the river gets to them and they lean back.

“So this is where Constance took the swan dive.” Dean says raising his eyebrows.

“So you think Dad would have been here?” Sam looks over at Dean and y/n.

“Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him.” y/n answers and continue walkin, with the boys following her.

“Okay, so now what?” he aks.

“Now we keep digging until we find him. Might take a while.” Dean says.

Sam stops. “Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by Monday—”

Dean turns around.”Monday. Right. The interview.” he finishes in unison with the youngest. Y/n stops and look at both of them.

“Yeah.” Sam nods.

“Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?” Dean asks sarcastically.

“Maybe. Why not?” he asks.

“Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?” y/n knows Sam’s girlfriend is called Jessica and that he has an interview on monday because Dean told her on the phone when Sam agreed to come.

Sam steps closer and so does y/n, knowing they can start fighting at any time. “No, and she's not ever going to know.” Sam says frowning.

“Well, that's healthy.” Dean retorts “You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are.”

“And who's that?” Sam asks growing annoyed.

“You're one of us.” Dean poits at him and y/n.

Sam steps closer to Dean again “No. I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life.”

“You have a responsibility to—” Dean starts, but Sam interrupts.

“To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like.” he says throwing his arms up. “And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone.” Ouch, even y/n felt that blow. “And she isn't coming back.” Dean sidesteps y/n who was between them to try and stop their fight and grabs Sam by the collar and shoves him up against the railing of the bridge looking in his eyes. 

“Don't talk about her like that.” Dean releases Sam and walks away. Y/n turns to go after him and sees Constance standing at the edge of the bridge at the same time he does.

“Guys.” he says. They go to stand him. Constance looks over at them, then steps forward off the edge.They all run to the railing and look over.

“Where'd she go?” y/n asks.

“I don't know.” Sam says. Behind them, the Impala's engine starts and its headlights come on. Dean and Sam turn to look.

“What the—” Dean starts and cuts himself off.

“Who's driving your car?” y/n asks looking over at Dean who pulls the keys out of his pocket and jingles them. Sam glances at them. The car jerks into motion, heading straight for them. They turn and start to run.

The car is moving faster than they are; when it gets too close, they dive over the railing. The car comes to a halt.

Sam has caught himself on the edge of the bridge and is hanging on. He pulls himself up onto the bridge and looks around.

“Dean? Y/n?” Sam yells after halting himself up the bridge. Below, a filthy and annoyed Dean crawls out of the water, panting, falling beside y/n, who’s already trying to catch her breath on the mud. “Hey! Are you all right?”

Dean holds up one hand in an A-OK sign. “We’re super.” he answers as y/n hold a thumbs up. Sam laughs, relieved, and scoots away from the edge.

Dean shuts the hood of his car and leans on it.

“Your car all right?” y/n asks

“Yeah, whatever she did to it, seems all right now.” he says and looks over to the bridge “That Constance chick, what a bitch!” He yells into the night.

“Well, she doesn't want us digging around, that's for sure.” Y/n sighs.

“So where's the job go from here, geniuses?” Sam ask looking at both of them settling on the hood next to y/n. Dean throws up his arms in frustration, then flicks mud off his hands facing the other two. Sam sniffs, then looks at y/n. “You two smell like a toilet.”

They look down.

They got to a motel and Dean hands the front desk A VersaBank MasterCard in the name of Hector Aframian. “One room, please.” he says smiling, still filthy, with Sam and y/n right behind him. The clerk picks up the card and looks at it.

“You guys having a reunion or something?” he asks looking up. Y/n frowns and Sam asks.

“What do you mean?”

“I had another guy, Burt Aframian. He came and bought out a room for the whole month.” Dean looks back at Sam.

Sam is trying to pick the lock in the motel room that belonged to John while Dean and y/n keep watch. The motel door swings open, but neither notice. Sam hides the picks and stands up. Sam reaches out of the room to grab Dean’s shoulder and y/n’s wrist yank them inside. Sam closes the door behind them. The trio look around—every vertical surface has papers pinned to it: maps, newspaper clippings, pictures, notes. There are books on the desk and assorted junk on the floor and bed, including something with a hazardous-materials symbol.

“Whoa.” y/n says walking to the closest wall.

Dean turns on a light by the bed and picks up a half-eaten hamburger sitting there sniffing  it and recoils. Sam steps over a line of salt on the floor and crunches to check it out. 

“I don't think he's been here for a couple days at least.” Dean says dropping the burger back in the bedside table and heading to look over the wall y/n is looking.

Sam fingers the salt on the floor and looks up. “Salt, cats-eye shells...he was worried. Trying to keep something from coming in.” He gets up and walks to the wall opposite to his brother and sister-like. Dean looks at the papers covering one wall. 

“Centennial Highway victims.” y/n says to Dean and head to the wall Sam is looking. Dean nods. The victims seen on the wall include Mark somebody, William Durrell, Scott Nifong who disappeared in 1987 at age 25, and somebody Parks. Mark, Durrell, and Nifong are all white males, judging by the photos.

“I don't get it. I mean, different men, different jobs—” Dean says trying to make sense of it “—ages, ethnicities. There's always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common?” While Dean talks, Sam looks at the papers taped to the other wall. He finds something about the Bell Witch, two people being burned alive, a skeletal person blowing a horn at several scared people with the note "MORTIS DANSE", a column about "Devils + Demons", another about "Sirens, Witches, the possessed", a wooden pentacle, and a note that says "Woman in White" above a printout of the Jericho Herald article on Constance’s suicide.

Y/n turns on another lamp. “Dad figured it out.” Sam says looking at the girl that is at his side. Dean turns to look.

“He found the same article we did. Constance Welch. She's a woman in white.” y/n says looking back at him. Dean looks at the photos of Constance's victims.

“You sly dogs.” He turns back to the other two. “All right, so if we're dealing with a woman in white, Dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it.”

“She might have another weakness.” Sam replies looking back at the wall.

“Well, Dad would want to make sure.” Dean crosses to them. “He'd dig her up. Does it say where she's buried?”

“No, not that I can tell. If I were John, though, I'd go ask her husband.” y/n says tapping the picture of Joseph Welch. “If he's still alive.” Sam goes to look at something else.

“All right. Why don't you, uh, see if you can find an address, while we go and get cleaned up.” Dean starts to walk away and y/n follows, grabbing her bag from the floor. Sam turns.

“Hey, Dean?” Dean stops and turns back while y/n passes him. “What I said earlier, about Mom and Dad, I'm sorry.”

Dean holds up a hand. “No chick-flick moments.” Sam laughs and nods.

“All right. Jerk.” he looks down.

“Bitch.” dean retorts smiling.

“I call dibs on the shower!” y/n yells and run to the bathroom, closing the door before Dean can catch up.

“Now she’s the jerk.” He says and you and Sam laugh.

You take a quick shower and leave the bathroom so Dean can get cleaned too. You grab your phone and sit on the chair texting Bobby, saying you’re okay, with the boys and already knees deep in the case John was working on. Sam notices something, and crosses over for a closer look. A rosary hangs in front of a large mirror, and stuck into the mirror frame is a photo of John sitting on the hood of the Impala, next to a young Dean in a baseball cap, a young y/n on his back and with an even younger Sam, on John’s lap. Sam takes the photo off the mirror and holds it, smiling sadly.

A while later, Sam paces, holding his phone, and sits down on the bed, he’s listening to a voicemail Jess left for him. Dean, clean again, comes out of the bathroom and grabs his jacket. He shrugs it on one shoulder as he crosses the room.

“Hey, guys. I'm starving, I'm gonna grab a little something to eat in that diner down the street. You want anything?” he asks looking back at the two.

“No.” sam says listening to the message.

“Aframian's buying.” Dean smiles and waves the credit card to them both.

“I accept some fries, please.” y/n says smiling widely looking up from the article about Constance she was rereading. Sam shakes his head again.

A couple of minutes pass by and y/n’s phone rings, when she picks up is Dean.

“Man, five-oh, take off.” y/n stands up.

“What about you?” she asks worried.

“Uh, they kinda spotted me. Go find Dad.” Dean hangs up the phone. She looks through the corner of the window.

“They got Dean, we have to leave” she says to Sam that goes to the window to.

“What?” Sam asks. They see the deputy approaching and dart away from the window.

Sam and y/n, knock on the door at Joseph Welch house. An old man opens it: Joseph Welch.

“Hi. Are you Joseph Welch?” Sam asks when the man looks them over.

“Yeah.” he answers.

The three of them are walking down the junk-filled driveway, Joseph is holding the photo Sam found on John's motel room mirror. “Yeah, he was older, but that's him.” the older man hands the photo back to Sam “He came by three or four days ago. Said he was a reporter.”

“That's right. We're working on a story together.” y/n says smiling warmly and Joseph looks her up and down again.

“Well, I don't know what the hell kinda story you're working on. The questions he asked me?” the man frowns.

“About your wife Constance?” the girl asks.

“He asked me where she was buried.” He says never taking his eyes from her.

“And where is that again?” Sam jumps in the conversation.

“What, I gotta go through this twice?” He looks over at Sam.

“It's fact-checking. If you don't mind.” he explains trying to keep their cover.

“In a plot. Behind my old place over on Breckenridge.” Joseph looks down.

“And why did you move?” y/n asks.

“I'm not gonna live in the house where my children died.” He answers not looking up. Sam stops walking, y/n and Joseph do too.

“Mr. Welch, did you ever marry again?” Sam asks.

“No way.” He darts up to Sam, “Constance, she was the love of my life. Prettiest woman I ever known.”

“So you had a happy marriage?” y/n continues. But Joseph doesn’t answer right away.

“Definitely.” He says after a while.

“Well, that should do it. Thanks for your time.” Sam turns toward the Impala. But y/n hesitates. Joseph walks away, she waits a moment, then speaks again to Joseph.

“Mr. Welch, did you ever hear of a woman in white?

Joseph turns around. “A what?”

“A woman in white. Or sometimes weeping woman?” she explains further and Sam goes back to her side.

Joseph just stares at them. “It's a ghost story. Well, it's more of a phenomenon, really.” Sam starts back “Um, they're spirits. They've been sighted for hundreds of years, dozens of places, in Hawaii, Mexico, lately in Arizona, Indiana” 

“All these are different women.You understand. But all share the same story.” y/n continues.

“Kids, I don't care much for nonsense.” Joseph walks away. Sam looks back at y/n and follows the old man.

“See, when they were alive, their husbands were unfaithful to them.” Joseph stops.

“And these women, basically suffering from temporary insanity, murdered their children.” y/n follows Sam and Joseph turns around. “Then once they realized what they had done, they took their own lives. So now their spirits are cursed, walking back roads, waterways. And if they find an unfaithful man, they kill him. And that man is never seen again.”

“You think...you think that has something to do with...Constance? You smartasses!” Joseph looks incredulously between them.

“You tell us.” Sam tells him.

“I mean, maybe...maybe I made some mistakes. But no matter what I did, Constance, she never would have killed her own children. Now, you get the hell out of here! And you don't come back!” The man says, telling everything the duo needed to hear. Joseph's face shakes, whether from anger or grief it's impossible to tell. After a long moment, he turns away. Sam sighs.

When Dean leaves the station, after escaping because the cops had to investigate some gunshots from a 911 call, he spots y/n leaning against her bike at the corner of the street. He heads towards her.

“Fake 911 phone call? Chip, I don't know, that's pretty illegal.” He says smirking when he gets close enough.

“You're welcome.” She grins back and uncrosses her arms.

“Listen, we gotta talk.” Dean’s expression changes.

“Tell me about it. So the husband was unfaithful. We are dealing with a woman in white. And she's buried behind her old house, so Sam is already heading there and it should have been John’s next stop.

“Chip, would you shut up for a second?” Dean tries to talk but the girl doesn’t stop.

“We just can't figure out why John hasn't destroyed the corpse yet.” she keeps going, looking over Dean’s shoulder.

“Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you. He's gone. Dad left Jericho.”

“What? How do you know?” she asks, confused. Dean simply holds John’s journal up in his hands.

“ What? He doesn't go anywhere without that thing.” the girl looks at the old journal.

“Yeah, well, he did this time.” The man says and flips through, stopping at one page that says ‘DEAN 35-111’ “And he left a message, the same old ex-Marine crap, when he wants to let us know where he's going.”

“Coordinates. Where to?” she asks, reaching and grabbing the journal.

“I'm not sure yet.” he says handing her it.

“I don't understand. I mean, what could be so important that John would just skip out in the middle of a job?” She looks up to the man in front of her “Dean, what the hell is going on?”

He shrugs and grabs her cellphone, that was sitting in the bike’s display, calling Sam.

“Hey y/n. I’m almost at the house, is Dean out yet?” Sam says after picking up, but then gasps and a tire squeal is heard before the line going dead.

“Sammy? Sam!” Dean asks before looking at y/n wide eyed.

“Let’s go!” She says hopping on the bike.

The car pulls up in front of Constance’s house and stops. The engine shuts off and so do the lights.

“Don't do this.” Sam says looking through the rearview mirror to Constance, who’s on the backseat. She flickers. 

“I can never go home.” Her voice is sad.

“You're scared to go home.” Sam realizes, looking back but Constance isn't there. He glances around and back and sees her in the shotgun seat. She climbs into his lap, shoving him back against the seat hard enough to recline the seat. Sam struggles.

“Hold me. I'm so cold.” She says with her hands roaming through his torso.

“You can't kill me. I'm not unfaithful. I've never been!” Sam says determined.

“You will be. Just hold me.” Constance kisses Sam as he continues to struggle, reaching for the keys. She pulls back and disappears, a flash of something horrible behind her face as she vanishes. Sam looks around for a moment, then yells in pain feeling his chest on fire. There are five new holes burned through the fabric of his shirt, matching to Constance's fingers: she flickers in front of him, her hand reaching into his chest. A gunshot goes off, shattering the window and startling the ghost. Dean approaches, still firing at her while y/n went to the backseat, trying to open the door. Constance glares at Dean and vanishes, then reappears, and he keeps firing until she disappears again. Sam manages to sit up and start the car.

“I'm taking you home.” Sam says and drives forward. Dean and y/n stare after the car as it smashes through the side of the house. They hurry through the wreckage to the passenger side of the car.

“Sam! Sam! You okay?” Dean yells after his brother.

“I think…” Sam starts from inside the car.

“Can you move?” y/n asks opening the passenger side door.

“Yeah. Help me?” he answers, reaching his hand Dean leans through to give Sam a hand.

Constance picks up a large framed photograph: the woman is Constance and the children are presumably hers. Dean helps Sam out of the car.

“There you go.” he says onde his little brother is on his foot. Y/n closes the car door. They look around and see Constance; she looks up. She glares at them and throws the picture down. A bureau scoots towards them, pinning them against the car. The lights flicker; Constance looks around, scared. Water begins to pour down the staircase. She goes over. At the top are the children from the photograph. They hold hands and speak in chorus.

“You've come home to us, Mommy.” two ethereal voices sound in unison. Constance looks at them, distraught. Suddenly they are behind her; they embrace her tightly and she screams, her image flickering. In a surge of energy, still screaming, Constance and the two children disappear. Sam and Dean shove the bureau over and the trio go look at the spot where ghosts vanished.

“So this is where she drowned her kids.” Dean says looking up. Sam nods.

“That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them.” He looks at the photograph

“You found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammy.” Y/n smiles at him and Dean slaps Sam on the chest where he's been injured and walks away. Sam laughs through the pain.

“Yeah, I wish I could say the same for Dean. What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?” He ask laughing incredulously.

“Hey. Saved your ass.” Dean says, leaning over to look at his car “I'll tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car?” he twists around to look at Sam “I'll kill you.” Sam and y/n laugh.

The Impala tears down the road; the right headlight is out; with the Harley following.

Sam has the journal open to "DEAN 35-111" and a map open on his lap and is finding coordinates with a ruler, a flashlight tucked between chin and shoulder. His phone on speaker to y/n. She has the phone inside her helmet.

“Okay, here's where Dad went.” Sam says to both dean and the phone “It's called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado.”

“Sounds charming. How far?” y/n asks through the call.

“About six hundred miles.” he answers her.

“Hey, if we shag ass we could make it by morning.” Dean says, then looking at the phone “Can you make it, Chip?”

“Yeah.” she says at the same time Sam starts.

“Dean, I, um…” he hesitates

“You're not going.” y/n says.

“The interview's in like, ten hours. I gotta be there.” he looks at the phone then at the bike that lined to his window. Dean nods, disappointed, and returns his attention to the road.

“Yeah. Yeah, whatever.” Dean says glancing at Sam.

“We'll take you home.” Sam turns the flashlight off.

“You can hang up now. We’ll talk at Stanford.” Sam does as he’s told and they drive on.

They pull up in front of the apartment, Dean still frowning. Sam gets out and y/n takes her helmet off. “Call me if you find him?” Sam asks Dean who nods.”And maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?” he tells y/n, that smiles at him, but before she can say anything Dean says:

“Yeah, all right.” Sam pats the car door twice, side hugs y/n and turns away. Dean gets out of the car and heads to y/n side.

“Sam?” Sam turns back. “You know, we made a hell of a team back there. The three of us”

“Yeah.” he smiles. Dean turns to y/n and they start talking between them. Deciding their plan. Sam watches them talk for a couple of seconds and sighs, turning and heading inside.

After Sam gets inside the building y/n comments. “You know, he might be making the right choice. If he can have a normal life, who are we to deprive him of that?” she says getting off the bike to look into Dean’s eyes.

“I know. And I really hope he can do it, but I don’t think it is possible.” he sighs and rests his forehead on her chest “Besides, I’m really gonna miss him.”

“Yeah, so am I.” She puts her hands on the back of Dean’s head. She knows the moment is not about that, but she can’t help feeling some butterflies on her stomach by his action. Doesn’t matter how many times they share those moments she always feels them, even though she knows he only sees her as an annoying little girl who was raised like his sister. Sighting, she looks to Sam’s building to try and clear her head. When she sees the explosion of flames on one of the windows.

They both gasp and run inside. Getting to the floor of the flames, which happens to also be Sam’s apartment. Dean kicks the front door open.

“Sam!” Dean yells entering the apartment. They follow the flames and find Sam on the bed with one arm shielding his face.

“Jess!” He says looking at the ceiling, where the girl is on flames.

“Sam! Sam!” They both scream at him, grabbing him by the arm.

“No! No!” Sam keeps shouting as the two shove him out the door, he struggles all the way down. “Jess! Jess! No!” Flames engulf the apartment.

A fire truck is parked outside the building, firemen and police keeping back gawkers. Y/n looks on, then turns and walks back to Dean’s car. Sam is standing behind the open trunk, by Dean’s side loading a shotgun. Dean looks at the trunk, then at Sam, whose face pure rage. Sam looks up, then sighs, nods, and tosses the shotgun into the trunk.

“We got work to do.” He shuts the trunk and heads to the shotgun, leaving the other two staring at each other, not knowing how to comfort the youngest.

Author's Note: I know I'm not a good writer, but since most things are already written and I'm just addapting I think I won't hate as much as I normally do. Anyways sorry again for any mistakes.

[hothothotch]

hi sweetheart! after you absolutely killed my last request and cleaned every dish with it MM MM MMMMM I'm back

this time, DBF!Hotch. The two of you got caught on your dad's new security camera beside the house that you didn't know about. Your dad tries to send aaron home to chew you out on it but Aaron gets all defensive and refuses to let you take the fall for both of your actions (maybe this leads to aaron's first acknowledgement that he loves you, 😮‍💨) but yes just protective!hotch standing up for you and your relationship 🦋���

Hello I'm baaaack!

I'm finally taking the web off the asks that got lost on my inbox when I disappeared, so you may see me for a few days!

Requests are still open, and you're invited to send anything Aaron Hotchner on my way.

Thank you for your request!

LUCK: sucess or failure apparently brought by chance rather than through one's own actions. Chance considered as a force that causes good or bad things to happen.

With you, it was usually bad things.

Of course, there were exceptions — like when you graduated in law, only a few months ago; or the day your father (the Senator) allowed you to go for a guided visit to the FBI to study it's many Units just because you wanted to see law being applied on different contexts; or — and this one was your absolute favorite — when you stumbled into your dad's best friend, Aaron Hotchner.

The latter one had been an absolute blast.

Aaron Hotchner was BAU's Unit Chief, and thanks to his ties with your father, he had been the one responsible for your tour of the sixth floor. Aaron had been attentive and careful, he embraced your curiosity as if he was being paid to give someone a tour, and not to find serial killers.

At the end of your tour, he offered you his number because, "I was a lawyer, so if you ever need something, or another tour, just give me a call".

One week later, you called him to ask for advice on a hard case you've taken at the law firm you were working at; Aaron asked you to dinner so you could talk privately about it, and helped you go over the case files. You also talked some more about your private lives — how he had an 8-year-old son, how you had a dog, how both your jobs took more time from you than you wanted. At the end of the dinner, there was another one scheduled.

Aaron had to reschedule that one (a case in Alaska wanted his immediate attention), but he knocked on your door first thing when he came back, a bouquet of flowers (sunflowers, to be exact) in hand as he proposed you'd go out for that delayed dinner. You accepted right away.

The third date was at your home, and that was the first time you kissed. The first time you've done way more than kissing. By the time Aaron left your home that night — staying over wasn't an option when he had a son at home —, you were sure there was nothing you wanted more than a solid career and to have that man's hands on you again.

That was when things started to go wrong.

You've had your fourth date scheduled when a pipe at your home exploded, causing a flood to start in your bathroom and spread all over your house; and while you weren't excited to go back into living with your father, that was the only available (and financially worthy) option, because you certainly wouldn't ask Aaron to let you live with him.

No. Nope. Absolutely not.

It wasn't like you were dating, on the romantic sense of the word. Yes, you had feelings for him; yes, you messaged so often that people had asked more than once if you were in a relationship; and yes, you did way more than just making out like hormonal teenagers whenever you had a second to be together.

But Aaron had a son, and you had a golden retriever (and said golden retriever was too attached to Aaron, to be honest), and a month and a few days of hookup wasn't enough to justify calling someone and saying, "Hey, mind if I crash down at yours while my pipes are being changed?".

"Yes, honey" Aaron nodded, looking down at you as he played with your hair, "That's exactly what you should've said".

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head in bewilderment. That was probably the third time you've been having that discussion, but it was the first time you've done it personally since Aaron had just came back from a case.

As usual, Aaron spent the night at home with Jack (he did invite you to go over, but you didn't feel like you were this far in your relationship to say yes) and appeared first thing in the morning at your father's house to see you. Now, you were lying together on the backyard, Aaron looking down at you, prompted up on his shoulders as you laid on the towel you brought out.

It was intimate, cute. The kind of moment you wouldn't have anywhere else, since the two of you lived on apartments. It was special, as if there was something more going on there, something unspoken.

Frightening. That was the word to describe it. And yet...

"I'll keep that in mind next time" you replied, a smile spreading on your face at the sight of the smallest quirk on his lips, "I like it when you smile, Aaron".

Aaron's smile widened, and God — you could feel your heart beating faster at that godly image, at the fact that you had put that smile on his face, the realization that his look of adoration was for you, and not any other woman.

"I like it when you smile, too" he whispered, leaning to press a soft kiss against your lips, "Even if this is not a rare occasion, because you're the softest person I've met".

"Oh, come on!" you pushed him away, and even if it was nothing more than the touch of your hand against his chest, Aaron pretended to fall backward on the towel, a silent invitation for you to lay on his chest, "I'm not soft!".

"Yes, you are" Aaron replied with a laugh, "Even more than Garcia, and she's essentially a marshmallow".

You gasped at his words, placing your hand on your heart as if he had offended you, "I can't believe you said that! I am a serious lawyer!".

"Never said you weren't, honey" Aaron pointed, pressing a soft kiss against your head, "Just that you're a very soft lawyer, that's always good to everybody".

"Which some would point as a weakness".

"Some are stupid" Aaron shrugged, "You are not. You're the best lawyer I've met, and I know you can do great things, baby".

You didn't know how to react to his words if there was an appropriate way to react. On these few months you've been seeing each other, Aaron had made a point of cheering you on whenever he could, and even managed to watch some of your court hearings (a benefit he got from being both an ex-lawyer and an FBI Agent), always having some strategic input for the next one.

Aaron has been helping, and has been hearing. He believed you even when you weren't sure your father believed.

God, you loved that man.

"Thank you" you whispered shyly, moving to kiss his lips, "I don't know what—".

"What the fuck is happening here?".

So, here's where the word luck suddenly turns into unluck. That specific moment in time, when you realize that the feeling of something missed you've been nurturing, had nothing to do with a lack of word to define your relationship with Aaron, but with the fact that at the end of the day... your father had no idea you've been dating Aaron.

It wasn't like you were hiding it from him — you've been open about dating someone, and he was aware that he knew that someone, but in truth you've never properly told him who that someone was. And while you wanted to say it was pretty obvious (because you've lost count on how many times you and your dad talked about Aaron when having dinner together), your dad had never been the one to read between the lines.

So, yeah. That was kinda your fault.

"Dad!" you stood up immediately, thanking every god available you and Aaron had decided to just lay outside, and not do something else, "You're home early".

"Yeah? You tell me" your dad snorted bitterly, looking between you and Aaron with anger written all over his face, "I was watching the security camera because I know this is when you get Lucky ready for her walk, and what do I see? You and Aaron here together! What was I supposed to do?".

You had some answers on your mind, but none of them seemed important as you looked around, eyes half-closed as you studied the space around you, "There are no security cameras on the backyard".

"Thank God I put on some last week!" your father pointed, "I thought you'd be safer if I did, and now I see that was providential for some other reasons".

You noticed when Aaron stood up beside you, his hand touching the small of your back softly, "There's no reason for you to talk with that this way".

"No reason? No—" your dad stopped, pinching the bridge of his nose for a second before he pointed at Aaron, "You, I want you out of my house. And you—".

"No".

For a second, you thought you'd been the one to mutter that simple word, that you had dared to say 'no' to your father to defend a... situationship with Aaron; it made sense because in your heart you wanted — craved — to tell your father that he couldn't tell you who you could date, or to put your "I'm an adult" speech to use, but you hadn't been the person to retort.

It had been Aaron.

"What did you say?" your father barked, his eyes twitching in nervousness.

"I said no" Aaron replied, taking a step in front of you, "You're not gonna talk like that with her. Not today, not ever".

"I'm her father—".

"That doesn't mean you don't owe her respect!" Aaron retorted, his voice louder than your father's, "You wanna talk about us, that's your right. You wanna know about us, that's also your right. But to scream with her in order to get some manipulated answer, that's not happening, not on my watch".

You knew you were supposed to step up and say something. Maybe you should tell Aaron to leave, so you could talk privately to your father; maybe you should stand with Aaron and leave with him because, honestly, you were dreading this specific talk.

But having Aaron defending you?

You've decided to study law because you knew what it was not to have someone on your back. Of course, your father had defended you in some instances, but there were other moments he'd made it known he'd step out so you could solve things by yourself; it did help you build character (as he used to say), but you missed having someone patting your back at the end of the day, or helping with the fights you just didn't feel ready to fight.

Aaron was just that person.

You didn't know if it was because he was FBI or it was his lawyer side rubbing in again, but it didn't matter — Aaron was fighting for you. Fighting for what you had.

God, you really loved that man.

"Okay" your father humphed, both his hands on his waist as he looked directly at you, "Then plead your case. And I hope is a good plea, because I didn't pay for the best university is this country for you to give me some lame reasoning—".

"Shut up!".

Yeah, this time it was you. And you knew that if you didn't go on with that, you probably would get too afraid to continue, so... "I'm an adult, dad" you cringed at how lame your words sounded in front of what Aaron had just said, "I won't say there isn't an age gap..."

"Twenty years" your father pointed between gritted teeth.

"But I'm an adult!" you stomped your feet, holding Aaron's arm, "I'm 28, I'm a lawyer, and I..." you closed your eyes, biting your bottom lip before those three words escaped her lips, "I can make my own decisions, dad. I'm not asking for your permission, I'm asking acceptance".

Silence. Deafening silence.

"Can I talk to Aaron?" your father asked finally. You could read anger all over his face, the way his jaw was tense and his hands were closed in fists, but you could also see defeat in his eyes — the realization that it didn't matter what he did or said, you'd stick to what you had with Aaron.

And you were proud of yourself.

You looked up at Aaron, waiting to see if he wanted to have this talk with your father, even if you knew he was too much a gentleman to refuse something like that (you had your doubts he'd ask for permission if he ever decided to pop the question — but why the hell were you thinking about that?), which was quickly confirmed with his curt nod, "Okay" you whispered.

With a gentle smile towards Aaron, you made your way towards your dad, stopping your walk beside him before whispering, "I love him. Please, don't fuck with that".

He didn't answer, nor looked at you. Taking it as your leave, you walked back inside the house, closing the door behind you — but not quick enough not to hear Aaron's final words.

"I fucking love your daughter, man. Please, don't fuck it up".

Maybe you weren't that unlucky, after all.

Thank you for the request!