#and the cry with each other on the phone about him
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LN4 | Panic at the Disco
Summary: When you call your brother to pick you up from the club, it's his best friend who answers.
Lando Norris x Fewtrell!Reader
WC: 1.3K
Warnings: Maybe slight panic attack, insinuated sexual harassment/assault
Masterlist
You rush through the club in a hurry, bumping into God knows how many people as you search for the exit. The hot, stuffy air makes it even more difficult to breathe as you keep pushing through the crowd. You can feel the wetness of your tears run down your cheeks as you reach the exit, nearly running into the bouncer checking IDs outside. You stand close to him as you wipe your cheeks and sniffle, trying to calm yourself down while you rummage through your purse in search of your phone. Taking a deep breath, you call your brother.
You wait impatiently as the phone rings. He doesn’t answer, so you call again. And again. Eventually, after three tries, the phone is picked up.
“Hello? Max?” You say rushedly.
You hear some noise on the other side. In your frenzy, you don’t realise it’s not your brother, not from the mere grumpy hello the phone is answered with.
“Can you come pick me up? Please?” The sheer panic you’re experiencing is clear in your voice. Lando can even hear your sniffling through the phone as you wipe your hand under your nose.
“Y/N? Is that you? Are you crying?” He asks, much more awake now as he sits up from his position on the couch.
“Who’s this? Lando?” You realise now that you hear him speak; it's your brother’s best friend – to your frustration.
“Yes”
“Why are you answering my brother’s phone?” You ask annoyed.
“We were just hanging out, he fell asleep and-”
“You know what – it doesn’t matter. Can you tell him to come pick me up please?”
“Where are you?”
“I’m not sure, uhm, it’s called Palace, I think.” You sniffle, “You’ll send him to get me?” You ask hopefully.
“I’ll come get you myself. I’m just putting my shoes on, I’ll be there in a bit.” He says, putting your brother’s phone on speaker mode and stepping into his shoes.
“Lando you don’t have to come, just tell Max to come pick me up, please. I need him right now.” You say, frustrated that Lando wants to come. He’s not who you want and need at this moment; you need someone who you can trust, who’ll protect you and make you feel safe after what just happened. You need your brother, a close friend, or maybe even your father, but not Lando. Why can’t he understand that? You can feel your tears welling up again in frustration.
Lando ignores you, however. “Are you safe right now? You should try to find a group of people or something, stick to them until I get there, okay?”
“Lan-” He cuts you off, in a rush to get to you.
“Do you want to stay on the phone? I’m getting in the car right now, I’ll be there in, like, eight minutes.”
“Lando, just send Max, please.”
“I’m already in the car. Do you want me to stay on the line, or not?” You hear the car revving in the background.
You sigh. Nevertheless, you’re relieved he’s on his way and you don’t have to stay here much longer. “That’s not necessary, Lando. I’m with the bouncer right now. Just come quick, please?” You’ve given up on the idea that your brother might come, Lando’s very much set in his ways.
“Of course, I’ll be right there.” Lando says firmly before hanging up.
Although you and Lando aren’t the best of friends, you get along well enough. Regardless, you get caught up in discussions quite regularly; both of you are passionate and stubborn in your opinions – it rarely happens that you and Lando do not end up being separated by your brother or a mutual friend. However, that you know exactly how to push each other's buttons doesn’t mean Lando doesn’t care about you. In fact, the opposite is true. Although he would never admit it, Lando has liked you for quite a while and cares for you deeply, even though he doesn’t generally show his feelings. And so, when you call him (well, not him specifically, but that doesn’t matter) crying and upset, he worries about you. He could’ve woken up your brother, who you obviously would have preferred over him, but he wants to be the one who’s there for you. He wants to be the one who protects you and keeps you safe – better yet, the one who makes you feel safe, if he could ever accomplish such a thing.
Lando exceeds his own expectations when he arrives at the nightclub in under five minutes. Already spotting you standing with the big, bulky bouncer, arms wrapped around yourself in an attempt to keep yourself warm in the cold, late night (or early morning) breeze. He carelessly parked his car on the side of the road, barely turning on the hazard lights before exiting the car.
“Y/N! Are you okay?” He jogs towards the club entrance, concern showing on his face.
You lifted your head at the familiar voice yelling your name. Quickly thanking the bouncer who kept you company, you rushed over to the familiar boy. You had never been so happy to see Lando.
He pulled you into his arms as soon as you were within his reach. Cradling your head and brushing your hair with one hand, while the other pulled you closer by your waist. Although you initially wanted your brother to come, this was good too – you’d even go as far as to say you were enjoying it. Despite your differences, Lando’s presence (more specifically, his strong arms holding you tight) made you feel at ease and calmed you down. He relieved the tenseness of your body and you relaxed in his hold. Hiding your face in his neck and fisting the fabric of his shirt, you nestled yourself comfortably in Lando’s body and exhaled the breath you had been holding.
He buried his nose in your hair on the top of your head, breathing in your scent and smiling at the feeling of you snuggling into him. It felt right, so right, to be holding you like this. He whispers, “Are you okay?” You merely nod your head, not wanting to leave his embrace. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” He questions further.
You stay silent, enjoying Lando’s strong hold on you. It makes you feel safe. Safe enough to share what happened in the club. “There was some random guy who thought he was entitled to my attention.” You mumble into his neck.
“He didn’t touch you, did he?” He continues, already fearing the answer.
You let a silence fall before answering, “He did,”
Lando squeezes you tighter at the revelation. He’s not surprised a man ruined your fun night out.
You continue quickly, “But there were some girls who helped me, and I think they kicked him out. I’m not sure though, I left as soon as I could. Then I called Max, but he didn’t answer, and now…”
“I’m sorry,” Lando says, a pained expression on his face. “Men are shit.”
You let out a small laugh and Lando can barely avoid shivering at the feeling of your warm breath hitting the sensitive skin of his neck. Nevertheless, he smiles in accomplishment when he hears the sound, glad he could cheer you up.
“You want to go home? To my place, I mean, Max is there…”
“Yes,” You say into Lando’s neck, sighing before distancing yourself from him.
He kisses the top of your head before letting you leave his hold, “Let’s go then.” He says, pulling you along to his car, still tucked into his side.
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Aemond Taking Nude Pics of His Darling
A/N: Like the migrating birds return after winter, I come crawling back here when I’m ovulating. Based on an anon request. Can be read as a continuation of this.
Warnings: 18+, smut, AFAB reader, naughty pictures, degradation, teasing, edging, manhandling, orgasm denial, P in V
Aemond runs the soft pad of his thumb under your eyes, collecting the tears of frustration spilling from your tired eyes.
“Poor thing can’t take a bit of teasing”
He’s tone is infuriatingly smug, tutting and interrupting you when you open your mouth to protest.
”Doesn’t feel nice, does it?”
No, it doesn’t feel nice.
Or does it?
You honestly don’t know what’s pleasurable anymore, being forced to the edge of pleasure but denied release time and time again.
Aemond’s fingers, lips, tongue and teeth had coaxed you into pleasure-drunk submission. They’d made you beg for permission to cum, cry for permission to cum, plead for permission to cum. But to no avail.
“Tell you what-”, he starts, seeing eye boring into yours with an intensity only ignited when he was feeling particularly bloodthirsty.
“-I’ll take some photos of you, to enjoy when I win next week’s away game, and then I’ll let you cum”
You’re beyond feeling embarrassed, head instantaneously moving up and down in a furiously eager sign of compliance.
Aemond’s teeth sink into his bottom lip to stop the amusement bubbling up inside of him from making itself know.
He must admit that he likes you best like this; completely at his mercy. His to do whatever he wants with.
Grabbing his phone from the nightstand next to the bed he’s got you caged within his arms in, he swipes his thumb over the screen to open the camera.
He admires you through the lens. The way the short, delicate hairs by your hairline stick to your sweaty forehead. The way your naked breasts still heave from exhaustion; skin damp and glistening. The way your agape mouth pants softly.
And then, your features change.
“Stop doing that”
“What?”
Aemond looks stern, like he’s about to lecture you, “Faking it. You’re posing”
“I’m not!”, you defend yourself with a high-pitched protest.
“You are”
Mind still fuzzy from the strenuous, extensive foreplay Aemond had insisted upon, you don’t know how to appease him.
What does he want?
Sensing your confusion, he places two large palms on each side of your waist, leans down to offer you a soft kiss, and flips you over so you’re on your stomach.
Being manhandled by Aemond while your senses have left your head and relocated to your throbbing centre feels comforting, so when he grabs your hips to pull your ass up, you mumble a muffled “thank you” into the mattress.
He always moves your body with soft yet commanding hands, making his display of dominance feel more like an act of adoration and care.
And he’s always so warm, soothing your exposed skin from the chill air of his bedroom
“Look at me”, he commands softly, tracing his fingers from the small of your back down to the velvety skin of your buttocks.
Turning your head to the side, you meet his eye, watching as he picks up his phone once more with one hand, while the other grabs his hard length, stoking it briefly before lining it up with your dripping cunt.
As he finally enters you, after god knows how much excruciating teasing, you feel your body turn into jelly; pliable to his every whim.
Your fists grab the sheets of his bed with a cramp-like grip, your mouth falls open with a loud moan, and your back arches in pleasure.
And you hear a click.
Aemond smiles behind the camera, satisfied with getting the picture he’d wanted all along. He moves it down to inspect the way you eagerly take him in, swallowing his cock over and over like the greediest of gluttons.
Enthralled, he admires the way he goes in and out; stretching and shaping you from the inside.
He puts his phone to the side, both hands once again finding home in the dip of your waist. His eye flickers to your bliss-filled face, an amused, condescending laugh leaves his lips,
“Are you drooling?”
You don’t care about his taunting anymore; too filled with him to care about anything else. Aemond moves forward, resting his face right next to yours.
The damp skin of his cheek sticks to yours, his breath fans hot air over your face,
“You’re so pretty like this”
You wait for him to kiss your cheek and award your endurance by finally paying attention to your aching clit.
Instead, he leans back once more, and pulls out.
“Aemond!”, you cry, unable to hide the utter devastation you feel at being denied your peak yet again.
“If you want to come you’ll have to work for it”
He’s smug again, enjoying your desperation a bit too much for your liking. Irritated and impatient, you push him to lay on his back and sink down on him in a selfish attempt to chase your own pleasure.
To your surprise, he allows you to take command; placing one of his hands on your hip, thumb coming down to flick your clit. The other hand picks up his phone again.
“You’re close?”
“Y-, yes”
His thumb continues to rhythmically circle your bundle of nerves as the grip he has on you tightens. His hips roll up to meet yours each time you sink down.
You grab his bicep, anchoring yourself to him with nails that harshly dig into his flesh.
So close.
A few more rhythmic movements and you feel fierce pleasure erupt inside of you, causing your mouth to fall open again as you whine out your pleasure.
Click.
Click.
Click.
You’re still sitting on him, breathing heavily as you try to catch your breath and come back to reality after feeling the release of seven denied orgasms wash over you.
Suddenly, you’re on your back again, Aemond hovering over your panting form. Your face is flustered and your hair is even messier than it was before.
Click.
The smug smile on his face has morphed into pride, and perhaps there’s something more, something far more vulnerable than he’s ever allowed himself to show you, hiding behind his miss-matched gaze.
“Gevie”
#aemond targaryen x reader#modern!aemond#aemond x reader#aemond targaryen x you#aemond x you#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen angst#aemond targaryen fanfic#my fics#aemond targaryen drabble
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One Night in St. John's {Frankie Morales x F!Reader}
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 15.3k
Warnings: Alcohol/drug use, infidelity, oral sex (female receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dirty talk, regret, abusive relationships, emotional/physical abuse, isolation, baby trapping, domestic violence, threats of death, weapons, drugging, hostage situation, death by gun violence, PTS, shock, therapy, confessions, oral sex (male receiving)
Comments: Drunk and high, you and Frankie give into the desires you've kept hidden from one another. One night in St. John's, one brief moment in time in each other's arms. You go back to your lives, sure that it's causing Frankie to pull away from your team even more, but there's a more sinister and heartbreaking reason.
A/N: Domestic violence/abuse comes in all shapes, sizes and genders. If reading about an abusive relationship would be triggering, please do not read.
Co-written by @storiesofthefandomlovers
**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.
|| MasterList || Frankie Morales MasterList ||
Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
Your nerves are shot, hands shaking, your entire body shaking as you sit under the hot water as the dirt and blood swirls down the drain. You’re alive, although you could have been like Tom, wrapped up in a blanket and carried out from the mountains where he had been killed. You had carried his body, cried and grieved, now alone with your thoughts and they aren’t exactly the happiest. Lonely and hurt, you try to ignore the baggie you had in your bag, now sitting on the table out in your room. Trying to resist snorting the fine white powder to manage the pain, to forget. Salty tears mix with the water as you cry in your first shower since you had tried to steal from Lorea and had ended up running for your lives.
Frankie sighs as he puts the phone down on the nightstand. He’d just spoken to Darcy who let him speak to Ava. The ten month old has no idea what he’s saying but he had to speak to his daughter. He had to speak to her after nearly fucking dying, after Tom died. He rubs his eyes and runs his fingers through his damp hair, feeling antsy and like a caged lion. He needs to get out of this damn room. He gets dressed and makes his way down to the hotel bar, ordering a whiskey as soon as he’s sitting down and he groans at the first sip he takes.
“This seat taken?” You ask him and he looks at you, “you want a drink?” He asks and you nod so he gestures for the bartender to come over. You order your drink and turn to look at Frankie. He’s so handsome, even with exhaustion seeping deep into his bones, he makes your heart flutter but he has a girlfriend, he has a daughter. When you get your drink, you hold it up towards Frankie, “to Redfly.” He nods, clinking his glass with yours. Tears sting in your eyes when you look in the mirror behind the bar to you and Frankie, the realization that you came so close to death still weighing heavy. “That was a shit show, huh?” You joke softly, trying to conceal your watery eyes.
“Yeah.” Frankie blows out a breath and sighs, shaking his head. He wants to cry but he doesn’t feel like it will come out of him. Too used to repressing his feelings until he explodes. He feels it, itching under his skin, clawing to get out. “You doing okay?” He asks gruffly, clearing his throat and motioning towards the bartender for another round.
You swallow down the lump in your throat and you shake your head. “I keep- all i can see when I close my eyes is Tom. Dead on that mountain. How it could’ve been all of us. Any of us. And Molly and the girls…they are going to be devastated. I feel so guilty. Like there was - we could’ve saved him.” You know that’s not possible, Tom got himself killed but you feel guilty for your captain getting killed on your watch. The bartender sets another whiskey down for Frankie and you turn to look at him, “I can’t - we nearly died.”
“We didn’t though.” Frankie insists, picking up his drink and nudging yours over in front of you. “Fuck I wish this was something stronger.” He grunts as he tilts his head back and throws back the shot. Feeling the burn of the alcohol as it slides down his throat. His life is in shambles, no one knows how bad it is, not even Benny and for a moment, he wishes it had been him on that mountain.
You pick up your drink and down it, needing to feel numb like he wants to. “I have…I have something stronger. In my room.” You confess, “it’s, uh, I picked it up when we were in the coke fields.” You confess, knowing you shouldn’t have grabbed the packet but it was right there and you didn’t know if you were going to live or die.
He had been tempted. Surrounded by all that cocaine, he had been sorely tempted to take some. To know you have some in your room makes his stomach twist and his craving get even stronger. “Fuck.” He stands up and reaches into his pocket for some cash. “What the fuck are we waiting for?” He asks you. “I want to fucking forget the last week and a half.”
You nod, standing up and you grab your room key, quickly making your way up to the third floor and you open your door, hearing him close it behind him and you grab the baggie, working fast to cut lines on the desk in the corner. Frankie rolls up one of the hundred dollar bills from the bag you grabbed from Lorea’s and you use your hotel room key. “Ladies first.” Frankie says, handing you the bill and you bend over, snorting the line and you shake your head at the rush you get immediately before you hand the bill to Frankie.
Anticipation curls in his stomach as he bends down. Blowing out a breath, he closes his mouth and snorts up the entire line quickly. Groaning and tossing his head back as the jolt to his system immediately slams into him and the euphoria washes over him. “Shit, shit.” He huffs, leaning down and doing another line in his other nostril before gasping and handing the bill back to you. “It’s fuckin’ pure.”
“Purest shit I’ve ever done. I, uh, I haven’t done this for years. Not since college.” You confess and bend over to do another line. The second hits you hard and you set the bill down as you wipe your nose, shifting to sit on the bed. “Shit. I feel…peaceful.” You sigh, your racing thoughts finally silent as you close your eyes, feeling the bed dip as Frankie sits down next to you.
“Only goddamn time I have peace.” Frankie hums, feeling the lovely floating sensation start to drift over him as his mind goes fuzzy and the smell of your shower gel seeps into his nostrils. His cock twitches and he thinks about how fucking beautiful you are. “Only time I get hard now too.” He blurts out, the intimacy in his relationship dead and buried, he had used to hide the fact that he couldn’t get it up for her anymore, able to fuck while high had been a good thing for him.
You open your eyes and frown when you look at him, “Darcy…she doesn’t - wow.” You finish lamely and clear your throat. “Sorry. That was-” He murmurs and you shake your head, reaching out to take his hand in yours. “It’s okay. Nothing leaves this room. It’s just the two of us. Whatever we say or do doesn’t leave here, okay?” You reassure him, wanting him to know he can trust you.
It’s on the tip of his tongue to tell you. To lay out everything that’s been happening and how miserable he is. Turning and looking into your concerned, beautiful eyes, he’s hypnotized by their color and depths. Not thinking about anything but you, he lunges forward and presses his lips to yours with a moan.
You respond, much to your shame, you respond and reach up to cup his cheeks. Your lips move against his and you pull back after a second. “Frank-” You murmur but he silences you with another kiss, not wanting to think about anything but you. You allow him to drag you down and you tangle your fingers in his hair as his tongue slides along your lips and your tongue meets his with a low groan.
He wants you, he’s always wanted you, but right now he feels like he’s going to die if he doesn’t touch you. His cock is already hard, throbbing as your tongue slides against his and he flips you onto your back and straddles you, pushing against your belly with his straining bulge. “Want you.” He manages as he pulls away to start biting and kissing along your jaw. “So fucking long. So beautiful.”
You can’t resist, fuelled by booze and coke, you can’t say no to the man you’ve been in love with for years. You couldn’t say anything when you served together and when you found out about Darcy and her being pregnant in the same sentence, you resigned yourself to being his friend. “Me too. Always wanted you. Fuck, Cat. I need you to - please. Fuck me.” You beg, reaching up to grab the back of his shirt, tugging on it and needing to feel his skin.
“Fuck, you’re so soft.” He marvels, stroking your sides and kissing your neck. “How are you so soft?” He’s imagined this thousands of times, sometimes when his hand is wrapped around his cock and sometimes when he was fucking Darcy. Luckily he had never moaned your name. Frankie kisses down your chest and circles your nipple with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth like a hungry baby.
You gasp and tangle your fingers in his hair, “Frankie.” You whimper when he bites down and he sucks where he bites. You wrap your leg around him and grind into him, pushing his bulge into your covered pussy and you moan in response.
He rocks his hips, shamelessly rutting into the hot core between your thighs. It feels better than he could have imagined and he’s not even inside you yet. He suckles until your nipple is swollen, moving over to the other breast and he knows he wants to bury his face in your cunt. “Take- take your fucking shorts off.” He growls, tongue dipping into your belly button as he moves lower.
Your heart beats out of your chest, already dripping with anticipation and you follow his growled demand without hesitation. You lift your hips as much as you can so you can take your shorts off after unbuttoning them and Frankie is impatient, reaching down to drag them off of your legs along with your panties, pushing your thighs apart when you are bare beneath him.
“Fuck.” He groans, seeing your wet folds and reaching out to spread them wide to expose your clit. “I’m so fucking hungry.” He lunges forward to slide his tongue through your folds and around your clit, pressing his nose to your mound with the enthusiasm of a starving man.
"Fuck!" You yelp, surprised at the ferocious way he buries his face into your cunt and you swear you nearly cum then and there when you look down and see his eyes are already black, pupils blown wide from the coke, and hungry. You moan and tug on his hair, "fuck, Frank - shit." You pant, lifting your leg up onto his shoulder.
It just makes him push deeper, sliding his tongue down to push up inside you. Loving the way your soaked walls clench around his tongue. He wraps his arms around your other thigh and pushes it out, opening you up more to his mouth. He would swallow you whole if he could. Cock throbbing in his jeans, grinding into the bed beneath him and swearing he could stay right here all night feasting on you.
"Oh God!" You cry, your head pressing into the mattress and you can't believe how good he feels, how good his tongue feels. Better than you've ever imagined and you've imagined it a lot. For years, you've wanted Frankie and now that you finally got him, you are breathless. "Shit. So good, baby. God, you're so good." You pant, getting closer as his nose presses against your clit.
He loves praise, soaks it up and is desperate for more. He moans into your folds and curls his tongue up inside you. Your fingers in his hair are magical and he hates pulling away for a second but he wants to suck on your clit.
Your stomach twists as you get closer to cumming and his lips suck harder on your clit. "Fi-fingers. Need your fingers, baby." You plead and moan when his thick digits push inside of you. "Yesss." You hiss, squeezing your eyes shut and it doesn't take long for you to fall over the edge with a moan of his name.
As hard as he is, he wants to see you cum again. Needs to see it, to feel it. Your cum floods his mouth and it's like ambrosia. Making him moan as he laps it up and pumps his fingers into your grasping walls. Enjoying the squelch of your wetness around his fingers.
"Shit." You hiss as you are pushed into overstimulation but he doesn't stop. You moan his name again, a desperate plea for what, you aren't sure. You don't want him to stop but it's so intense. "Oh fuck." You moan, thighs starting to shake as he curls his fingers inside of you.
“Give me another.” Frankie demands, pulling away so he can swallow and then sucking your clit back into his mouth. It’s been so long since he’s wanted to pleasure someone he’s drunk on the sensation, greedy for more.
You gasp for air, every breath taken from you by his mouth and his fingers. "It's too much." You pant and Frankie growls, "another."
You can't deny him, pushing through the overstimulation and falling over the edge to another orgasm. "F-Fr-" You try to get his name out but all you can do is squeak.
Frankie groans, working his mouth even harder as he watches you. Your entire body arches up and he feels the spurt of precum soak his boxers. Finding it to be a gorgeous sight as you gasp and writhe for him.
You collapse against the bed, eyes still closed as you try to calm down after the best orgasms you've ever had. "I wanna see you." You tell him, shifting out from under him and kneeling on the bed. He follows your orders and lays down, working on unbuttoning his pants and you shove them down his legs after he kicks off his shoes. Throwing them to the floor, you focus back on Frankie and see the bulge in his boxers, the dark look in his eyes, and the way his chest heaves. You reach up to hook your fingers in his boxers, pulling them down, and you moan at the sight of his hard cock. "Fuck, you're thick." You murmur, spitting into your hand then you wrap your fingers around him, marveling at the feel of the silky hot skin.
“Shit.” He hisses, rocking his hips up into your grip and groaning your name. He’s imagined you touching him, never quite able to imagine it as good as this. “Fuck, are you- what do you want?” He demands breathlessly. “I need you baby.”
“I want to - I want to ride you. I- I have an IUD. Please Frank. I need you inside of me.” You beg and he nods, leaning down to grab your arms so he can drag you up his body. You shuffle to straddle him, his cock between your folds as you grind down on him and the drugs combined with the high you get from Frankie has you feeling on top of the world.
“So goddamn beautiful.” Frankie groans, tearing up to press his lips to your shoulder. He should be desperate to get inside you, but he loves how you are rolling your hips over his cock. Holding tight to your back as he pulls you down and kisses along your shoulder.
You moan, turning your head so you can press your lips to his, not wanting to waste a second of this night together. He isn’t yours. Can never be yours. This is all you’ll have. You reach between you, gripping his cock and you lift up to position him at your entrance, slowly sinking down onto him and you whimper against his chin at the stretch.
“Holy fuck.” He pants, cock twitching and it’s all he can do to keep from rocking up into you. Trying to give you time to adjust. The Coke and the feeling of you are nearly making him black out from pleasure. “So good baby, fuck you are so tight and sweet.”
You exhale shakily, shifting to brace your hands on his chest as you take all of him. Your heart is pounding in your chest from the coke and the fact that it’s Frankie beneath you. “Feel so good, Frankie.” You whimper, caressing his chest as you give yourself a second before you start to move on top of him.
“So good, baby.” He groans. “I can’t believe that it feels so good. Move baby.” He begs you, fingers digging into your hips as he braces his feet in the bed.
You moan, nodding as you start to rock on top of him, lifting up until you can sink back down onto his cock. His thighs lift you so you can move forward and you grind onto his cock. “Fuck.” You pant, jaw dropping at the angle.
“That good, baby?” Frankie grunts. “Your little cunt is squeezing me.” His hands squeeze your hips, not slapping, he would never slap you. He groans when his words affect you and he squeezes your hips again. “You like that, baby girl? You like me telling you how tight your pussy is on my cock?”
You nod, speechless from the dirty talk. His rough voice sends shivers down your spine, and you move a little faster on top of him. "Shit. Yes. I do. I love it. I wanna - wanna hear more, Francisco." You demand softly, leaning down to kiss along his jaw.
“Fuck.” When Frankie is high, he’s more talkative, the thoughts inside his head just come pouring out of him easier than he would sober. “Always wanted to fuck you. Imagined it, dreamed of it, jerked off to the thought of it.” He admits with a dirty grin. His hand slides up to your breast and he squeezes it, rolling your nipple between his fingers. “So many nights. The entire time we served together, I wanted you.”
“Oh God.” Your stomach clenches at his dirty confession and you pant against his collarbone, clenching around him. “Me too. Shit, so many nights spent wishing you were in my bed. You were inside of me. Always knew it would be amazing. And it is.” You reveal, rocking back onto him, “it’s so good.”
“So good.” He groans in agreement. “You- I -“ he shakes his head. “Fuck me.” He begs, knowing that he can’t tell you that. Not with the way his life is. He can’t drag you into his mess, not when he doesn’t know how he’s getting out of it himself. Or if he’s getting out of it.
You reach for his hands, gripping them as you start to move faster on his cock. “Fuck baby. Oh God.” You pant, tits bouncing as you work yourself towards your orgasm as your knees dig into the mattress.
“That’s it baby, ride my cock.” Frankie groans. “Always- fuck, you’re better than my fantasy.” He praises, watching you and completely enthralled with the sight.
The awed look he gives you sends you over the edge, his eyes glassy and mouth open as he looks at you like you’re a goddess. It makes you cum and you clamp down on his cock with a strangled choke of his name, falling forward until your forehead is pressed against his. Body shaking above him and he thrusts up into you to help you prolong your high.
It’s the best sex he’s ever had, groaning your name as he watches you cum. It’s a vision that he would love to have burned in his brain. Rocking his hips up frantically as he chases his own end.
You try to grind back onto him, wanting him to cum inside of you. “Cum for me, Francisco. I want to feel you.” You beg, kissing along his neck, wanting to leave your mark but knowing you can’t.
“Fuck, fuck.” Frankie groans, unable to resist giving you what you want. Especially since it’s what he wants too. He thrusts up into you wildly, only making it another half dozen thrusts before he’s filling you, painting your walls with hot spurts of his cum.
You hum with satisfaction, shifting to press your lips to his. His tongue is harsh against yours as his hips slowly thrust into you as he rides his orgasm and you run your fingers through his hair as he fills you. After he stops, he rolls you onto your side and curls around you. You smile into his chest, closing your eyes as the high of the drugs and the sex courses through you. There’s so much you want to say but you can’t. You just have tonight. Tomorrow, you deposit the money and Frankie goes home to his family.
Frankie hums, grateful when you don’t want to talk. All he wants to do is hold you. Wrapping his arms around you and pulling you down on his chest as he closes his eyes. “Wanna sleep here.” He mumbles quietly.
You hum back, placing your palm on his chest to feel his heartbeat, reassured that he’s safe and alive. You kiss his Adam’s apple, “sleep, sweetheart. Tomorrow is gonna be messy.” You murmur, closing your eyes as exhaustion overwhelms you along with the crash from your high.
****
When Frankie wakes up, the light is starting to filter through the curtains and he’s sober. Realizing that he hadn’t been dreaming is both the best and worst thing that has ever happened to him. He can’t believe that he got to touch you, although he feels bad because he cheated. He made you a cheater and that was worse. He shifts slowly, not wanting to wake you up until he is out of the bed. Grabbing his clothes and fleeing quietly.
When you wake up, the sheets beside you are cold and you squint, feeling that headache you get after drinking too much but now it’s a combination of booze and coke. You sit up and bite your lip after you shake off the haze of waking up. He left. You shouldn’t be upset about that. He has a family. Shit, you - he cheated and you cheated with him. Shame burns inside of you. He has a baby with Darcy, he - he has a partner and you cheated with him. You feel dirty, shifting out of bed and you get into the shower, desperate to wash off his touch, hating that you can still feel his lips on your skin. The thing you wanted forever makes you sick with disgust at yourself. You stay under the water until it goes cold and reluctantly dress to meet the boys to deposit the money that will make you all for the rest of your life’s.
****
You watch Benny walk out of the room after giving his share to Redfly’s family and you know you have to do the same. Signing your name before you get up to follow the boys, your eyes meeting Frankie’s for a moment and he looks away. Your heart shatters but you’re reminded that you can’t tell anyone about last night.
Frankie frowns as he stares at the contract in front of him. It’s a lot of money. Money that he could use to leave Darcy. Get his pilot’s license back and leave the horrible relationship he’s in. Get custody of the baby, hopefully. Or at least not get fucked with visitation. It’s hard to not think about this, even though he knows that he should give the money to Redfly’s family. The man died. His kids deserve that money. Still he stares at the contract for far longer than he should before he crumples up the paper and signs the document to give the money away. Sadness and despair overwhelming him, even as he slaps Pope on the shoulder and ambles out of the room like the weight of the world isn’t on his shoulders.
You watch Frankie as you stand in the middle of the street, passers-by pushing past but you stare at Frankie, knowing this is it. He will go back to Darcy and who knows when you’ll talk to him next. He keeps to himself nowadays and even Santi has trouble trying to get hold of him. “You’ll need these.” Santi says as he hands everyone back their passports. “I guess I’ll see you all next at the funeral?” Will says and you nod, knowing Frankie can’t avoid that. “See you soon.” Will steps forward to hug you, kissing your cheek and Benny then Santi does the same. Next is Frankie and you struggle to maintain your composure as you hug him tight.
Frankie tries to hug you as quickly as possible but he can’t help but linger for just a moment. Clinging to you for a second as the dreams of the future, a future with you, slip away. “Well, I gotta get home.” He tells the group, not looking any of you in the eye. He nods and turns around to disappear into the crowd.
**** ]
It’s hard seeing Frankie again, all of you in dress uniform and you see Darcy holding Ava as she sits in a pew behind Molly and the girls. It’s hard to be around Frankie because he’s not even texted you since you’ve been back. Not that you expected anything of him when you got home but a check in would’ve been nice. You’ve texted him, asking him how he’s doing and you’ve been left on read. Your heart aches for Frankie but today, it grieves for Tom, your leader, and you focus on him instead of the man you yearn for.
Frankie doesn’t even dare look at all of you, knowing how pissed Darcy is that he didn’t come home with the money he had promised her when he had left. He knows she blames all of you for the fuck up in South America and why she cannot have a life of luxury. Instead, he focuses on the funeral, his part in the honor guard so he can finish up and leave. Darcy doesn’t want to stay past the burial.
When the service is over, everyone is heading to Molly’s house for the wake and you are confused when you arrive there after stopping for gas and don’t see Frankie or Darcy. “Where did Frankie go?” You ask Santi who sighs.
“Darcy wanted to take Ava home and Frankie had to go too.” He explains and you frown, knowing it’s not like Frankie to leave early, especially when today is about Tom.
****
“I still can’t believe you gave the money away.” Darcy shakes her head after putting Ava down for her nap. “You’re a fucking spineless bastard.” Darcy hisses at Frankie who stands there with his arms crossed, shoulders hunched. “You should’ve been selfish. For Ava. For me. I already bought a Louis Vuitton purse for my birthday because you promised you’d get me something to make up for being such a failure and getting suspended at work. I gotta take it back. You know how embarrassing that’s gonna be for me, baby?”
“I’m sorry, baby.” The apology is automatic, his heart starting to race as his pulse jumps up. “I’ll- I’ll pick up more hours.” He’s got part time work that’s been able to sustain them with his retirement and disability. “You don’t have to take it back, baby. You keep it.”
Darcy shakes her head, “no. I’ll take it back. I don’t need you telling me that we need to be budgeting the groceries. Honestly, you’re pathetic. Leaving your family for two weeks and you didn’t bring back anything to show for it.” Darcy scoffs and Frankie frowns, “I got seventeen grand.” Darcy snorts, “yeah? And where’s that gone? On trying to fight your suspension. When we met, I thought you were capable of looking after me. I thought you were gonna take care of me and our daughter but you’re a failure. How are you gonna make this up to me?”
Frankie swallows, hating how she continuously pokes and pushes him, grinding him into the dirt with her venom. “However you want me too, baby.” He placates, moving towards her automatically to wrap his arms around her. If she pushes him away, he knows he needs to just be quiet and let her vent her disappointment. But she would also accuse him of not caring if he didn’t make a move to comfort her, so he was picking one and seeing if it was the right move today.
Darcy lets him wrap his arms around her and she slides her hands down his back and under his uniform to pinch his side, making Frankie wince. “I don’t need your fucking comfort, Frank. I need you to do your job to provide for this family.” She hisses and pushes him away, “my parents told me to not have the baby. Didn’t think you were good enough for me and you know what? They were right.” She shakes her head and turns towards the counter to make herself a cup of coffee.
Frankie sighs, although he makes sure that she doesn’t hear it. That would cause another fight. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs. “I’ll make it up to you.” He promises. “I’ll get my license back and then we won’t have to worry about anything.”
Darcy snorts again, “you better otherwise me and Ava will be gone. I’ll move in with my parents.” She threatens and pours her coffee. After a few moments, she says your name, “did you see her? She looks like she’s put on weight. I don’t think anyone was fooled that her uniform still fits properly. It looked like she was about to burst out of it. No wonder she doesn’t have a boyfriend. No one's gonna wanna date the Pillsbury dough boy.”
Frankie frowns, looking at her back and wondering if she’s serious. His friend and teammate died and she’s commenting about your looks? You don’t look any different than the day you left the Army. “Her uniform was fine.” He tells her. “Nothing was ill fitting, she could pass inspection today.” He knows you haven’t gained any weight, but he can’t say that. The image of you riding him is a secret memory, one that he will think of often.
Darcy turns, staring at her partner, “really? She could pass inspection?” She mocks his words, “all the others were thinking it. She’s a fatso, Frank. And she shouldn’t have gone with you all to South America. Trying to run with the boys. I bet that’s why Tom got killed, because you were all running around trying to protect her. She’s useless. She is a military groupie gone too far and she thinks she’s capable but she put you all in danger.” Darcy gives her opinion without any remorse, speaking her mind as she always does and she turns back to pour creamer in her coffee.
“She didn’t do that.” Frankie snorts, shaking his head. “You need to stop fucking talking about her like that. She’s got just as many medals for courage and valor as Ben, she’s not a military groupie, she’s a veteran and deserves respect.” He snaps, pissed off that she constantly belittles your accomplishments.
Darcy moves so fast he doesn’t even register that she’s slapped him until he sees her hand lowering from his face. The sting comes a few seconds later and he realizes he went too far in his defense of you. “Don’t you ever - ever - defend that fucking bitch in my house, okay? She has always pined after you and you disrespect me by giving her compliments? No, Frank. No. You fucking apologize right now to me.” She demands, crossing her arms.
His eyes are wide, unable to believe that she just hit him. She’s shoved him, slapped at his chest but she’s never hit him in the face. “No.” He shakes his head. “I’m not apologizing for her being a veteran.” He tells her, his stomach churning and twisting in anxious nausea. Fearful of what she might do again, but still not ready to talk bad about you. You’ve never done anything wrong to her, until this trip, but Darcy doesn’t know that.
Darcy doesn’t hesitate, turning back to her coffee and she grabs the spoon she has in the mug, turning back to Frankie and pressing the spoon to his neck. He winces but she grabs the back of his neck to keep it pressed to his skin. “Apologize. To. Me.” She demands, pressing the spoon harder into his neck.
Frankie hisses, the hot spoon burning his skin but he almost doesn’t apologize. Deciding that he’s had enough of her shit until he hears Ava start to cry, obviously not wanting to go down for her nap. With the mood she’s in, Darcy would take it out on his daughter and he can’t have that. “I’m sorry.” He chokes out. “I’m sorry, baby, I- I don’t know what I was thinking.” He tells her breathlessly. “The funeral, losing Tom, it’s fucking with me. I’m not thinking straight.”
Darcy pulls the spoon away from his neck, setting it down and reaching up to cup his cheek. "It's okay, baby. I know it's been stressful. For me, too. I love you. You know that, right?" She coos, leaning in to kiss the burn she left on his skin.
Frankie shudders but he makes himself wrap his arms around her again and snuggle into her. “I know. You’re the only one who could put up with me.” It’s a statement that she’s said over and over again and he is starting to believe it.
“That’s damn right.” She chuckles, “I better go check on Ava.” Darcy says, leaning back with a smile at her partner and she walks out of the kitchen to check on the crying baby. Frankie exhales shakily, leaning against the kitchen counter. He has faced combat in the most dangerous areas in the world, nearly died from bullets flying past him, and flown a helicopter under high stress but Darcy seems to crumble his strength. Her power over him stems from keeping Ava safe and his morality. He would never hit a woman so he takes what she does to him. He doesn’t want to fight. He’s so tired of fighting.
****
It’s been weeks since you heard from Frankie and the guilt is eroding your insides. It’s haunting you and you don’t know how to handle it. You’ve never been a cheater and not hearing from Frankie has you worried that you’ve ruined your friendship. You decide to send him a text, saying hi and asking how he is.
Frankie’s phone is constantly being checked by Darcy since his outburst. Nearly every night and he has even stopped talking to Ben as much as he used to. Not wanting to rehash every comment he made to his buddy or what his mentality was. When he gets the text from you, he panics and nearly deletes it, but then it would cause a complete shitstorm. Instead he doesn’t even open his messages and waits for Darcy to look through it.
“Why is she texting you?” Darcy asks, pausing the tv and grabbing Frankie’s phone. “She is asking how you are. Why would she ask that? Have you been talking to her behind my back? Have you - explain this, Frank. Now.” She says, shoving the phone towards him.
“What? No! No, I haven’t been talking to her!” Frankie defends. “I- she’s probably checking in with everyone. Tom died, Darc. It - it’s heavy shit. We all blame ourselves.” He quickly rationalizes. “I’m not talking to her, you told me not to and I’m - baby, I’m not going to jeopardize my relationship with you.” He tells her, reaching out to rub her arm.
Darcy shrugs off his touch, “don’t fucking lie to me!” She shouts, despite Ava being asleep. “She’s a whore. Trying to take you away from me. I see the way she looks at you. She wants to tear our family apart and you are letting her do it. You never touch me. We don’t have sex. It’s her, isn’t it?” Darcy cries, starting to sob.
“No, no baby.” Frankie shakes his head and wonders if she suspects something. Guilt and worry curling in his stomach. “No, you told me that I was treating you like my sex toy, I - I didn’t want you to think that’s all I wanted from you.” It was ironic when he used to want sex that she would complain, now he doesn’t even ask and she complains. “Only you, baby.”
Darcy sniffs, wiping her eyes, “yeah?” She asks and Frankie nods. “Good. I Don’t want you talking to her.” She narrows her watery eyes and shifts to sit beside him once more. She grips his chin and leans in to press her lips to his. “You’re mine. Don’t forget that.”
“I won’t.” He can’t. She reminds him everyday and for the hundredth time since he came back, he wishes he had been the one killed. If it weren’t for Ava, he would have left her, long ago. But he knows she will never let him see his daughter again. “I won’t talk to her.” He promises quietly, mourning the loss of all of his friends since he has been with her. He will end up completely alone.
“Good.” She kisses him again, letting go of his chin and she settles in to watch the tv again. “You’re so good to me, baby.” She coos, sliding her hand down his chest to play with the buttons of his shirt, “makes me wet when you do what I want.”
Shit. He knows she wants sex now, especially since she’s brought it up.
“Yeah?” Frankie grunts, capturing her hand and sliding it down and onto his thigh. “Let me go pee, baby.” He asks her. “That way we don’t have to worry about anything when I take you to bed.”
Darcy nods, biting her lip as she smirks and watches him go into the bathroom. Frankie locks the door behind him and braces his hands on the sink, looking into the mirror. He doesn’t want to have sex with her but he has no choice. If he doesn’t, she will hurt him again, either emotionally or physically and his biggest fear is her hurting Ava. He will take every slap and pinch she gives him if his daughter is safe.
He finds the baggie he has hidden under the towels and in the linen closet. Working fast, he puts some onto the back of his hand and snorts it, wiping his nose. It’s enough to numb him to do what he needs to do, his thoughts drifting to you and how you looked riding him. He sniffs and hides the baggie again, splashing water on his face before he heads into the bedroom to do what he needs to do.
****
“Is Frankie coming?” You ask Santi who glances at his watch.
“He didn’t respond.” He says and you frown. No one has heard from or seen Frankie for weeks since you returned from South America and you don’t want to see him. He’s ignored you since you parted ways and you’re hurt. You thought your friendship would survive but he refuses to even text you back.
Frankie had barely been able to convince Darcy that if he didn’t show up to Benny’s fight that it would look strange. He had promised her he would just go to the fight, immediately coming home and he would have one beer. Nothing more. And he wouldn’t talk to you. Frankie shakes his arms and then wipes his hands on his jeans as he walks in, nervous about seeing everyone. The bruises on his sides twinge, reminding him of the promise he had made to behave.
Your eyes widen when you see Frankie sit down, shocked that he made it when Pope didn't think he would. His eyes meet yours after he greets everyone with a nod and you offer him a small smile that he returns until it drops, his eyes widening slightly before he turns his head away from you. Your heart twists with that and you wonder why he's actively avoiding you. He clearly regrets that night and now, so do you. Frankie's phone buzzes and he pulls it out of his pocket to see a text from Darcy. ‘Remember, one drink baby. Don't talk to her. Don't linger. I want you home as soon as it ends otherwise I won't be happy. Love you.’
Frankie swallows harshly and stows his phone, leaning over to Pope. “Gotta leave after the fight.” He yells over the crowd. “Baby’s not feeling good.” He lies, knowing no one would blame him for that. The fact that you lean in and he’s close to touching you makes him jerk back and sit straight, sure that Darcy would catch your perfume if he touched you, even innocently.
Darcy texts Frankie several more times throughout the fight, even asking him to take a photo of it to prove where he is. It's strange because she never accused him of cheating until he came back from South America. Maybe something changed, maybe he changed. He doesn't know but he concentrates on Benny and cheers him when he wins. "I gotta go. Tell Benny congrats." Frankie says as he slaps Santi on the shoulder and he looks at you with those beautiful brown eyes. "See you later." He offers you a small smile then rushes off before the crowds try to leave and you frown, turning back to Pope.
"Something isn't right with him." You assess and Santi nods, squeezing your shoulder until you focus on Benny as he approaches with blood smeared on his face from a broken nose but a wide grin from his win.
“Where’s Fish going?” He had seen his friend in the crowd as he was in the ring. He frowns slightly when he realizes that Frankie isn’t just going to the beer stand for another brew.
“He had to go, the baby isn’t feeling good.” Pope tells him with a frown. “He told me to tell you congrats on your win.”
Benny huffs and takes the towel that Will tosses him to wipe his face. “Something’s wrong with him. He’s not answering my texts, like- at all.”
“Have you spoken to him?” Will asks you, knowing you and Frankie have always been especially close.
You shake your head, “I’ve texted him but I get left on read. I don’t know what’s going on. I- I am worried about him.” You confess and the boys nod.
****
“What took you so long?” Darcy asks as she stands in the hallway.
Frankie barely gets a chance to shrug off his jacket before she’s on him. “I hit all red lights, baby.” He explains and Darcy shakes her head.
“It was her. Wasn’t it?” She accuses, “you fuck her in the bathroom? Mind you, you wouldn’t be that late coming home. You’ve never had the stamina, have you?” She laughs cruelly.
Frankie’s shoulders slump but he doesn’t rise to the bait, knowing it would just start a vicious fight. “No babe, I left as soon as the fight was over. I just got caught up at the lights.” He knows that he’s going to get slapped again. Since the other day, she’s slapped him on the cheek whenever she gets mad. Making him feel even more ashamed every time he thinks of hitting her back. Becoming the monster he’s always been afraid that he is.
“Don’t fucking lie to me.” She surges forward to slap him and grips his chin, leaning in. “You even smell like cheap perfume. I can’t believe you.” She lowers her hand, “I give you everything. Sacrifice my body to give you a child. Give you a home to return to and you want to throw it all away for some whore who could never love you like I can.”
“I swear to you, Darcy.” Frankie whines, nearly flinching when she moves again. “I didn’t do anything, I sat by Pope. Maybe he’s seeing a new girl, I don’t know. I came straight home.”
Darcy stares at him, her eyes narrowed. “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.” She says and spins on her heels, making her way back into the bedroom and she shuts the door, effectively locking him out of his room. Frankie looks down at his hands, shaking from both anxiety and anger. He hates Darcy but he can’t leave, his daughter isn’t safe around her. The other day Frankie found Ava gripping a knife and Darcy laughed and said it was nothing, she wants her to learn how to use utensils to be a proper lady. He strips down to his boxers and lays on the sofa, wishing he could escape this situation and keep his daughter safe but no one would believe him.
****
It’s been a few days since Benny’s fight and the guilt of sleeping with Frankie is becoming too much. Darcy posted some photos of Ava and Frankie on her Facebook page with them out for brunch - her new designer bag on display - and you felt the heavy pit of guilt in your belly. You have to tell her and you’ll tell her it’s all your fault. Frankie will be at work so you make your way over to his house, ringing the doorbell and shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other as you wait for Darcy to answer the door.
Darcy huffs, pushing herself off the couch with an annoyed grunt. “Hold on!” She grumbles as she walks over to the front door and opens it. Annoyed and immediately glaring when she sees you at the door. “What the fuck do you want?” She hisses. “Frankie doesn’t want to talk to your pathetic ass, so do us both a favor and fucking leave him alone, okay?”
Your eyes widen and you know she has never liked you but her attitude takes you back. “I, uh, I know you don’t want to talk to me but I need to tell you something. Please. I, uh, I need to get it off of my chest.” You tell her and she crosses her arms, scoffing but allowing you to continue. “I slept with Frankie. In St Johns. We, uh, we were high and had a few drinks so we weren’t thinking straight and I’m so sorry Darcy. I wanted to tell you because you deserve to know and I can’t keep this secret any longer. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat.” You admit and she chuckles, “every cloud.” Her comment makes you frown and you are confused, “you aren’t mad?”
Darcy snorts and shakes her head, “I knew that Frankie fucked you.” She lies with a nasty smirk on her face. “A pity fuck, that’s what he called it when he told me about it.” She shrugs slightly. “You know men, if a whore is gonna throw it at them, they’ll take it. Thank God you didn’t give him something, but he much prefers my pussy over yours. Said he can’t even look at you now, so disgusted with the thought of you naked.” She chuckles evilly again. “Might want to lose a few pounds.”
You feel your eyes sting and your stomach twist. Hearing what Frankie said about you makes you feel sick. Darcy could be making it up but why would she lie? She knows about what happened.
“He said you were the worst sex he’s ever had. It was the adrenaline from surviving, he told me. He hasn’t talked to you because he didn’t want to embarrass you. You need to go. He’s my boyfriend. The father of my child. He’s mine. He belongs to me.” She says and you swallow down the lump in your throat, uneasy with her words but she’s not wrong.
“Yeah. Uh, I- I’ll go. I wanted to tell you because I thought you deserved to know and, um, yeah. Bye.” You choke and she waves at you as you make your way down the driveway to your car. Pulling away from the curb, tears streaming down your cheeks and you curse that night, you curse Frankie Morales. Your heart breaks and you need to take some time to get over that asshole. He’s with Darcy and he loves her.
****
“Baby, I’m home.” Frankie calls out and comes in to find Darcy sitting on the sofa, “come here baby.” She coos and he sets his stuff down before sitting on the sofa next to her. She leans in to kiss him and Frankie nearly flinches. “I missed you today.” She coos, caressing his cheek.
“I missed you too.” He lies, “where’s Ava?” He asks and Darcy explains that she is at her parents’ house.
“I wanted a romantic night in with you.” She says and Frankie feels repulsed but what can he do? “So…” Darcy trails off and grips his chin, “when were you gonna tell me you fucked the whore in St John’s?” She asks him, her eyes hardening.
“What?” Frankie shakes his head, immediately denying it. She’s been accusing him of cheating since he got back from South America. “Baby, why do you keep saying that?” He demands, making her squeeze his cheeks even harder. “The whore told me herself, Frank.” She spits, the spittle flying into his face and making him cringe. His heart sinks but Darcy keeps talking. “Bitch came to my house, wanted to ‘confess’ because she felt so guilty. She should, spreading her legs for you when she knows you have me, have Ava.” Frankie starts to shake, knowing that Darcy will punish him, badly, for you showing up and telling her what happened.
“You lied to me, Frank. Over and over. I’ve done so much for you. Sacrificed so much for you and this is how you repay me? By fucking the woman you’ve been in love with for years?” She hisses and Frankie shakes his head. “No use denying it. I know you love her. I’ve seen the way you look at her. You’ve never looked at me like that. I knew you would leave me for her so I decided to take action. Poked holes in the condoms we used until I got pregnant. Wanted to make sure you were mine.”
Frankie gasps, nearly choking on his own breath at the knowledge that she had baby trapped him. “You-“ He growls, his head snapping to the side when she slaps him.
“Don’t you fucking say a word, you cheating bastard!” She screams, her voice breaking because of how high it gets. “You humiliated me! All your bastard friends know, laughing at how you banged your whore.” This time, her fist is closed when she hits him, punching him in the jaw and Frankie grabs her hand.
“Stop fucking hitting me!” He shouts.
She screams, wrenching her hand away and she stands up. “That’s it. I don’t know if this shit will happen again. It can’t happen again. I’m gonna invite her over here. Gimme your phone.” She orders and he shakes his head. She sees his phone on the kitchen counter, rushing over to pick it up and Frankie tries to follow her but she’s quick to grab a knife from the counter, aiming it at him and he knows he could take her down but not without hurting her.
“Darcy!” He barks, jumping out of the way of the knife and back several steps. “Are you fucking crazy?” He asks, watching the knife carefully as she spins around again and looks like she wants to murder him. “Put the knife down.”
She shakes her head and grabs his phone, texting with one hand to bring up your name and text an invite over to the house, she hits send and tosses the phone across the counter. "She'll come. I know she will. Fucking pathetic bitch can't leave you alone." She scoffs, waving the knife again. "And you're gonna let me talk to her." She laughs manically, setting the knife down and opening the drawer. Before she had Ava, Darcy was a nurse so it wasn't hard for her to procure what she needed. She grabs the syringe as Frankie approaches to try and get the knife away from her and she is quick to stick the needle in him, pressing down on the needle to push the sedative into Frankie's bloodstream. She wants him to watch you suffer but she knows he won't allow it so she needs him to be restrained.
****
Being drugged is nothing like getting high. Frankie groans, head pounding and his mouth feels dry. Trying to move his arms, he can’t and he tries harder, feeling the resistance that forces his eyes open.
“You’re awake. Good. She’s on her way.” Darcy reveals and Frankie shakes his head, trying to speak but he’s still lethargic. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m gonna take care of this. You’ll never truly love me until she’s out of the way. I’m gonna do what needs to be done.” She promises and picks up the gun she had taken from Frankie’s gun safe. She knows the password is Ava’s birthday so she was able to get into it.
“D-Dar-“ Frankie’s tongue is heavy and his mind is so jumbled from the drugs she had pumped into his system. He doesn’t want this, horrified that you might be killed because of his mistakes. He shakes his head again, trying desperately to think of a way out of this. His hands are bound, he’s zip tied to a kitchen chair. “D-don’t.” He croaks out.
You frown when you receive the text. Confused about Frankie’s invite to his house and the wording isn’t like the man you’ve known for years. You know something is wrong and you want to find out. Especially since Darcy had told you what Frankie had said. You get into your car and make your way over to Frankie’s house. Parking down the street, you sneak around the house and your eyes widen when you look into the house and see Frankie tied to a chair, and Darcy walking around with a gun in her hand. “Shit.” You curse, knowing you have to protect him and yourself and especially Ava. You step back from the house and call the police, explaining the situation, and after you hang up, you exhale shakily, anxious to keep Frankie safe.
“Darcy, think of Ava.” Frankie begs, the drugs wearing off and he is panicked. “You won’t get away with it. You’ll be in jail.” While he would love to be away from her, he is trying to keep her from killing you. “We’ll move.” He promises. “Sell the house and move across the country. Away from everything and start fresh.”
Darcy scoffs, "I will get away with it because you're going to help me deal with her after. Even if we moved across the world, she'd still be in your fucking mind. You won't forget about her. You'll still be tempted and I won't allow it. I can't. You're mine. You belong to me." She growls, fingers adjusting around the gun.
Outside, the police arrive quietly, pulling up in their SUVs and you meet them to explain what's going on. "I think she's going to kill him. I think she's gonna try to kill me." You explain and the police officers nod, speaking into their radios.
Inside, Frankie is still trying to convince Darcy. “Baby, no. It was a mistake.” He lies, knowing that his time with you was the best he’s ever had. “I had done some Coke, just to- just to forget the image of Tom’s brains splattered on the fucking rocks.” He tells her. “I didn’t realize what I was doing and then I left, I didn’t talk to her. I haven’t had anything to do with her.”
Darcy shakes her head and aims the gun at him, her anger getting the best of her, “you’re a fucking liar. I know you love her. I know you love her more than me and if she was gone, you could love me like that. I want you to love me like that. Don’t lie to me. I know you want her. Have always wanted her.” Darcy shouts, just as the front door flings off of its hinges and the officers yell at Darcy to drop the weapon and get down on the ground.
Frankie shouts, begging her to put the gun down. Knowing they will kill her if she so much as twitches wrong. Not wanting Ava to deal with the fact that her mother was killed when she’s older. Darcy screams, incoherently and spins around on Frankie. “You bastard! You called them!” Despite the fact that there was no way he could have called the police. He had been tied up.
“Darcy, no!” The shots echo in the house, deafening him and he squeezes his eyes shut and waits for the pain to start where she shot him.
The bullet flew into the kitchen cabinet behind him and the other shots were the police taking down Darcy. Yelling fills the house as the officers rush forward, kicking the gun out of Darcy’s hand and checking her pulse. “We need an EMT. Now.” He says and speaks into his walkie.
“Is she dead?” Frankie gasps as the officer comes towards him, pats him down before he lets him go.
“Yes sir. She was a threat and she had a weapon.” He says and Frankie exhales shakily.
“Frankie! Frankie!” You shout, pushing into the house despite the officers telling you to stay put. You run over to Frankie, cupping his cheeks, “are you okay?”
“I- no,” Frankie pants, staring at Darcy’s crumpled body and closes his eyes. “She was gonna- she was gonna kill you.” He manages before he lowers his head and tries to keep from sobbing, relieved that you are here and safe.
Your eyes widen, “kill me? Because we - oh God.” You choke, putting it all together when she had Frankie tied up and the gun in her hand. “Shit. She wanted to kill me.” You whisper and the police officers come over to escort you and Frankie outside and they take Frankie aside to take his statement but he wants you to stay with him. Reluctant to have you out of his sight, you stand beside him as he starts to give his statement.
Frankie starts to tell them everything. The abuse, the escalating violence. He pulls up his shirt to expose the bruises. How erratic Darcy had been acting, although he doesn’t mention the trip to South America, just that things had gotten worse since he had come back from out of town. He hates it, feeling humiliated as the police look at him first with disbelief and then pity as he continues to tell them about being abused by his girlfriend. He can’t look at you right now, afraid you would be disgusted with him for not manning up like Darcy always told him to do.
You feel sick. Hearing what Darcy did to Frankie has you wanting to scream and cry and make the world burn. You want to go and get a gun and kill Darcy again, just for the satisfaction of seeing her suffer. Tears sting in your eyes and the officer takes his statement and tells Frankie he can’t stay in the house so you wipe your cheeks and say that Frankie can stay with you. You turn to look at him, hands reaching out but pulling back in case he doesn’t want to be touched. “Frankie. I- I’m so sorry. I- I should’ve known. I should’ve helped you. I - shit. You - the ways she’s hurt you.” You choke, wishing you could go back in time and keep him safe from Darcy.
“No.” Frankie shakes his head. “She- she would have hurt Ava.” He tells you breathlessly, trying to keep his emotions bottled up. “They- they never would have given me custody. I would- I had to protect her. If she was hitting me, she wasn’t hitting our little girl.”
You can tell Frankie is on the edge and you want him to be safe before the emotions hit him finally. “Come on, let’s go back to my place. Where’s Ava?” You ask with wide eyes, worried that the little girl is in the house still.
“She’s at Darcy’s parents house. They - oh God. I gotta tell them - Darcy is dead.” He says with a whisper and he hates the fact that he’s happy about that for himself but not for Ava. “She’s safe for tonight. You’re in no state to be around her. Come to mine and you need to sleep.” You say, grabbing your keys from your pocket and guiding him up the street while the police handle his house.
“I don’t- I tried.” Frankie rambles as you steer him towards your car and open the door for him. “I stopped talking to everyone, stopped doing anything that would set her off.” He doesn’t understand why she hated him so much. Was he just that horrible? “Nothing- I failed at everything. I was- wasn’t good enough.”
“Frankie.” You shake your head as he gets into the car, “this isn’t your fault. Darcy was an abuser. You aren’t to blame for how she treated you. You are a good man. She - she was wrong. She abused you.” You whisper, a tear escaping your eye as you look at his distraught face.
“Poor Ava.” He bites his lip and closes his eyes tight, trying not to cry. “She- she’s gonna grow up with me and I’m gonna fuck her up. I - she always told me I was useless.”
You kneel down beside the car, “can I touch you?” You ask, wanting to hold his hand and he nods. “Francisco. You are the best father. You’re a good man. You’re not going to fuck Ava up. Darcy would have. She would’ve manipulated her like she did you. You are going to get through this. It’s gonna take a while but you’ll be strong for Ava. You can do this. I promise you.” You squeeze his hand, hating how broken he looks.
“Are you sure?” Frankie asks quietly, clinging to your hand. “I- I have to admit something.” He tells you. “I had been thinking that I should have been the one to die on that mountain. That way it would be over for me.” He sees the horror on your face. “But you- that night- it’s how I’ve been keeping sane lately. Remembering you, that night.”
You want to sob then and there, hearing that Frankie wanted to die because of Darcy. It makes you even angrier but you control yourself and place your hand over his holding yours. “Darcy has hurt you and you need to heal from that. Ava loves you. The boys love you. I love you. You’re so loved and we need you, Frankie. She’s gone and you’re still here. It will take time but you’ll be what Ava needs.” You assure him.
“How could I let it happen?” He asks seriously. “I’ve fucking killed people, and my girlfriend was abusing me?” He sounds bewildered because he is unable to rationalize that in his mind. “I don’t- I didn’t stop it, I just- I guess I am less of a man.”
You shake your head, “you didn’t stop it because of Ava. Because you are a good man and you didn’t want to hurt Darcy even though she was hurting you. You’re not less of a man. You were manipulated and abused. Mentally controlled. Verbally and physically abused. Sweetheart, this isn’t your fault.” You promise him, “this isn’t your fault.”
Frankie sighs, feeling exhausted. “I couldn’t let her kill you.” He admits quietly. “I- I almost hit her, but she knocked me out with something.” He looks into your eyes. “Can you-? I just want to get out of here. I don’t want to be here anymore.”
You nod, letting go of his hand and you make your way around the car to get in the driver's seat. You start the engine and make your way down the street past the police cars and the black van so you can get Frankie somewhere safe. He’s quiet for the drive and when you pull up on your driveway, you cut the engine and look at him, “do you want something to eat?”
“I’m not hungry.” He murmurs quietly, looking at the front of your place. He honestly wants to shower until his skin is red and then sleep for the next year. “Can- can I shower?” He asks, turning his head quickly and looking at you with wide eyes. “I- I need to feel clean.”
“Of course you can.” You hate that he asks you like that. Like you’re going to slap him for inconveniencing you. “Come on.” You say and open the car door, moving fast to unlock your home so he can get comfortable. “You know where the guest room is. You can stay as long as you like. There’s fresh towels and I think I have a pair of your sweats from when you stayed over a few years ago when you were having your house painted.” You say and he nods, making his way to the bathroom. When he shuts the door, you allow the tears to fall. How did you not see this? How did you let him be abused by Darcy? Why didn’t you check on him more? You feel incredibly guilty.
Inside the bathroom, Frankie turns on the shower and sits on the toilet seat. Shell-shocked and unable to believe what happened. Having a small breakdown when he imagines what could have happened if the police hadn’t come and you had walked into his house. If Darcy had killed you. He slaps his hand over his mouth, starting to sob and trying to keep it quiet.
You wipe your eyes and splash your face with water. You know you didn’t have a clue about the abuse Frankie was facing and you wonder if your presence triggered her or if you made it worse in some way. Her words when you went to tell her about you and Frankie ring in your ears when you remember how vehemently she declared Frankie to belong to her. You wish you had seen the signs. You have to be strong for Frankie though.
Eventually, Frankie climbs into the shower and nearly burns his skin off, scrubbing harshly with the soap and rag to feel clean again. If the tears mix with water and slide down the drain undetected, he doesn’t acknowledge them. Waiting until the water runs icy cold before he turns it off and steps out to wrap a towel around his waist. The bruises are visible. Some fresh and dark purple, others a sickly green and yellowish, making him grimace in the mirror as he traces them before turning away and opening the door. Grateful that you have given him a place to stay tonight.
You look up when Frankie exits the bathroom and comes into the living room with the towel wrapped around his waist and you see the bruises. You choke on your breath, tears in your eyes and you stand up to walk over to him. “Can I- oh God. Frankie.” You sob, reaching up to gently wrap your arms around him and you feel the guilt almost suffocate you.
“I’m okay.” He’s not, but he will be. Overwhelmed by the fact that he is free, he wraps his arms around you and crushes you against him, burying his face into your neck. “Thank you.” He whispers. “For being here.”
“Always, sweetheart. I’m always here for you.” You promise, sniffing as you run your fingers through his hair. “You’re okay.” You echo, “You’re safe.” You promise and you caress his neck. “Why don’t you get some sleep?” You murmur, knowing he must be exhausted.
“I don’t want to be alone.” He whispers and you hum, “you can stay with me. If that’s okay?”
“Please?” It’s pathetic and he can hear Darcy’s voice in his head, reaming him for needing you to sleep beside him, but he tries to ignore that. Sighing softly in relief when you take his hand and guide him towards your bedroom. He needs to be near you, to know that you are okay and that he is safe. It was another reason he had gone with you that night you were together. He had been terrified it had been you on that mountain and then relieved that you were still with him.
“I have your sweats. I’m gonna get ready for bed. I’ll be five minutes, okay?” You ask and he nods. You caress his back and make your way into your bathroom, getting ready for bed. Once you’re in your tank top and shorts, you shut the door behind you and see that Frankie is already in bed. You turn off the lamp and slide under the covers, wrapping your arms around him. “Goodnight Frankie.”
Frankie sighs, relaxing when he wraps his arms around you. Closing his eyes and pressing his nose into your hair. “Goodnight, and thank you again.” He squeezes you tight and settles into the bed, holding you close.
****
It’s been six months since the night Darcy tried to kill you and Frankie has been going to therapy. He is in a much better place and is a loving father to Ava. During his therapy sessions or other appointments, you look after Ava. Darcy’s parents were ashamed of their daughter and her abuse, they have been giving Frankie some space until he is ready to have them back in Ava’s life.
You look up as Frankie comes into the house and Ava rushes over to him, “dada! Dada!” She cries and he bends down to pick her up, kissing her cheek.
“She’s been a good girl?” He asks you and you stand up from the rug scattered with toys.
“She always is.” You coo at Ava. “You want some coffee?” You ask and he nods, holding Ava on his hip. He moved a few weeks after that night, unable to live in that house full of horrid memories and his new place is cozy enough for him and Ava. He got his license reinstated and the boys have been supporting him through everything. Things are finally starting to look up as Frankie is able to process what happened to him at the hands of Darcy. You quickly prepare the coffees and get some milk for Ava along with one of the cookies she loves and she rushes over to eat the cookie on the rug, making you chuckle. “She can never sit still. Just like her father.”
“That’s because if I’m still, I’m gonna fall asleep.” Frankie jokes, smiling at the sight of Ava happily eating a cookie and watching TV. She hadn’t asked about Darcy much, and seemed to accept that momma had gone to Heaven and she wouldn’t see her anymore. In fact, he had often wondered if she had started being mean to Ava because the young girl seems so happy. “You are so good with her.” He tells you, taking the cup of coffee with an appreciative smile. “I don’t think you know how much I owe you.”
“Nothing. You owe me nothing. There’s nowhere else I’d be. I - I love Ava and you needed help. I couldn’t let you do this all on your own after dealing with Darcy. I wanted to help you because I love you both. So much.” You smile and pick up your own cup of coffee. Telling Frankie you love him has become second nature but the true depth of your feelings has never become a subject you’ve been brave enough to broach, especially since he’s been healing physically and mentally from Darcy’s abuse.
Frankie’s stomach flips and he takes another sip of his coffee. You’ve said you love him almost every day and you don’t even know how much it means to him. He’s talked about you in therapy, about his feelings for you and the therapist has encouraged him to start talking to you about them. About how he’s always been in love with you, how he’s still in love with you. That despite what Darcy put him through, he would like to see what could happen with you in a relationship. “I love you too.” He tells you honestly.
His words make your heart thump and your eyes meet his over your cups of coffee, but you don’t get your hopes up that he means he’s in love with you. He’s been through so much. The last thing he probably wants is to get into a relationship. He needs time to heal and to ensure Ava is happy and safe. “I know you do.” You tease softly, “it’s the pasta dish I make, isn’t it?”
“It’s the fact that I’ve always been in love with you.” He admits, setting his coffee mug down and shoving his hands in his pockets. His eyes are searching yours and he’s reminding himself that you wouldn’t react harshly, even if you didn’t feel the same way. “I don’t know what you want. Or how you feel, but Dr. Thomas said that I should talk to you.”
Your eyes widen as you realize he’s serious and you set your coffee cup down so your shaking hand doesn’t spill it everywhere. You stare at him for a moment from the other side of the kitchen and you bite your lip. “You want to know how I feel? I’ve been in love with you since we first met. That night we all went out to the bar to get to know each other and you bought that hat off of some guy in the parking lot. I have been in love with you every day since then and I’ll be in love with you every day from now on. I love you, Frankie. With everything I am.”
He closes his eyes, nodding. As he absorbs the idea that you feel the same way that he does. Feeling the warmth settle in his chest and he bites his lip as he opens his eyes. “I-“ he steps closer to you and reaches for your waist. “I would think about you.” He admits softly. “When Darcy was being really bad, I would remember that one time we were together. It - it saved me.”
Your heart pounds in your chest and simultaneously breaks when you hear that Frankie had to escape like that. You swallow harshly and reach up to cup his cheek, “I wish I could take away everything she did to you.” You whisper, caressing his cheek.
“I -“ he leans into your touch and sighs. “It doesn’t matter now. I just want to move on.” He admits quietly.
“You can move on. You need to confront what happened, be stronger from the experience and move on.” You murmur, leaning in to gently kiss his chin, his stubble scratching your lips. “I love you, Francisco.”
“Can I kiss you?” He asks softly. “I want to kiss you sober.”
You nod, moving slowly so he can pull back if he wants and you lean in to softly press your lips to his. It’s gentle and sweet and everything you’ve wanted with Frankie, your body lighting up at the connection. You don’t move to deepen the kiss, wanting him to control this.
He sighs again, sliding his arms up and around you. Softly pulling you closer. He doesn’t think that you will push him away but he wants to give you the time to. If you want to keep it simple.
His hands squeeze your waist and you lean into him, your arms wrapping around his neck as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss. You whimper when his tongue slides against yours and it’s like coming home, like you belong here with him at this moment.
Frankie wants to live in this moment. Feeling your hands on his body, worshiping him with your fingers as they caress his neck. His daughter laughing at her cartoon, safe and sound. He kisses you until he feels like he can’t breathe. Pulling back and smiling at you. “Stay tonight?” He asks softly.
You nod, breathless and lips swollen from his kisses and you whimper when he kisses you again. ****
“She’s asleep.” You tell Frankie as you walk into the living room after putting Ava to bed. She had clung to you for a while until she finally passed out on your shoulder and you put her to bed. Frankie looks up from his phone and sets it down. “You don’t have to put the phone down.” You assure him softly, “I’m not gonna check it.” You promise, knowing that’s part of his learned behavior with Darcy.
“I was texting Benny.” He tells you with a self depreciating grin. “He’s checking on me. Again.” He had been embarrassed, but he told them all what had been happening. Since then, all of them checked in with him at least once a day. He knows they are worried, wanting to make sure he doesn’t start using again.
You come and sit down beside him on the sofa, reaching for his free hand. “They love you. They all wanna make sure you’re okay.” You say and squeeze his hand. “Baby, you’re doing so well.” You praise him.
“I’ll take your word for it.” He chuckles quietly and he squeezes your hand. “I don’t want you to feel like we have to do anything.” He tells you. “But, I - I want to.” He admits. “I’ve been- I jerked off in the shower before you came over.” The therapist had urged him to not hide his needs and to be honest with you. So he is.
You inhale sharply, your stomach twisting with arousal, and you’ve been trying to hide your attraction to him, uncertain if he wants to touch or be touched after suffering such a traumatic event. You shift a little closer to him, “I want to- I want you. Whatever you’re comfortable with. I just want you, Frankie.” You murmur, leaning closer to softly kiss him.
He hums into the kiss, his memory of your only night so far is burned into his brain but he wants something different. That was lust fueled, frantic. “I want to make love to you.” He whispers, moving to kiss along your jaw. “We fucked the last time, I want to make love to you.”
You lean into him, moaning softly at the thought, and you tangle your fingers in his hair, “I would love that, sweetheart.” You murmur, leaning back so you can kiss him properly. His tongue slides against yours for a moment until you pull back, “take me to your bed.” You order softly but you want him to be in control tonight. He has to be comfortable.
He’s nervous now that he’s not high. That he’s doing this with a clear mind. Old anxieties spring to the surface but he pushes them down. You aren’t Darcy and you wouldn’t criticize everything he did in bed. He’s already half hard, proving that he didn’t have any issue getting it up for you.
You stand up and hold your hand out to him. He takes it and escorts you to his bedroom. The bed is messily made but you don’t care about that when Frankie is pulling you close again. “I love you.” You murmur, cupping his cheeks before you lean in to kiss him. His fingers play with the hem of your shirt and you pull back so he can drag it over your head. “Can I take your shirt off?” You ask him and he nods. You move fast to take his shirt off, caressing his skin - free of bruises and no physical scars, except the ones he got in battle, displaying the abuse he endured. “So handsome.” You murmur, admiring him.
Frankie twitches slightly, not that he doesn’t believe you think that, it’s just he’s always been a bit reserved. The other guys were hit on more than he was, though he did alright. He reaches for you, wanting to see your body again. Compare it to the memory he has. “I love you. You are gorgeous.” He hated all the hateful things Darcy had said about you, none of them true. His hands slide under your shirt and he groans as he reveals your plain bra.
You feel gorgeous under his touch, despite the comments from Darcy. You reach down to squeeze him through his pants but he drags your bra down your arms and he’s ducking his head to wrap his lips around your nipple. You gasp, gripping his shoulders, “Frankie. Shit.” You hiss when he bites down, making your cunt clench around nothing.
Frankie moans, his cock fully hard and pressing against his fly. He loves the way that you respond to him and the way your nipple tightens in his mouth. Fingers trance up your spine before he works on undoing your jeans. Wanting to see all of you, touch you. Your taste is still a flavor on his tongue, but he wants to drown in it.
You whimper when he switches to your other breast and whine when he pulls back so he can push your jeans down your legs. “Fuck baby.” You gasp when his hand slides between your legs to rub your clit through your panties.
“Let me make you feel good.” He begs softly. He’s not doing this because he has to. He’s doing it because he wants to, he needs to. His fingers rub the material, groaning around your nipple with the wetness that starts to soak through.
You whimper, rocking your hips down to meet his fingers, and you grip his shoulder while your other hand reaches down to squeeze him through his jeans. “I’m yours. You can do what you want.” You promise him.
“I’m yours too.” He promises, twitching under your touch and loving how eagerly you want him. He pushes under your panties and starts to slowly stroke your clit as he kisses back up your chest and then to your lips.
You moan into his mouth, snaking your hand into his boxers, squeezing him as his fingers rub your clit. “Fuck baby. Never forgot how thick you are.”
“Yeah?” He’s proud of the fact that you think he’s thick. “Do you like it? Thick, I mean? Did it feel good?”
“I loved it.” You promise him, jerking him slowly as his fingers rub your clit and you close your eyes as his lips kiss along your neck. “I love you. Everything about you. Even your demons. I love every part of you. Accept every part.” You promise breathlessly as you squeeze him. “God, I need you inside of me.”
“You don’t want me to eat you out?” He asks in surprise. He had thought you had enjoyed it that night but maybe you just didn’t want it right now. “You’d rather I fuck you?”
You can tell he’s anxious and you pull back to look at him. “Baby, your tongue is literally magic. I never came from oral before your tongue came along. I loved it.” You reassure him, “I just - I want to feel connected to you.” You explain, hoping he understands that this is more than just sex. You want to feel him in your bones, in your soul.
Frankie smiles, relieved that you had cum. He had sworn you had, but he had also been high. “I get it.” He promises you, reluctantly pulling his hand out of your panties and starting to drag them down. “I want to be connected to you too.” He smirks slightly, feeling confident that it will be amazing. Everything with you is amazing.
You smile and caress his cheek with your free hand and you reach down to shove his boxers down his legs. He is throbbing and you want him to feel loved, to feel cherished. You sink down onto your knees, looking up at him. “I love you.” You declare and lean in to wrap your lips around his cock after gripping him. You want to make him feel good, feel cherished.
“Oh fuck.” Frankie chokes out the sound and tries not to buck his hips forward. Chasing the sweet heat of your mouth and the way you softly suckle him. “So good baby. Fuck, baby.” He coos softly, reaching down and stroking your cheek. You look so fucking pretty with his cock in your mouth. “I love you so goddamn much.” He promises, knowing that you don’t pity him for what happened.
You moan around his cock, loving how he is caressing your cheek and praising you. You love how comfortable he is, no longer ashamed of himself after months of therapy. You pull off of his cock, jerking him with your hand, "I love you. You want to cum down my throat or inside of me?" You ask, wanting him to choose.
“Inside.” He croaks out, pulsing in your hand at the thought. “I want to be inside you, so deep I don’t know where I stop and you start.”
You let go of him and shift to stand up, leaning in to kiss him. "How do you want me?" You ask and he murmurs against your lips, "on your back." You nod, shifting to lay down on his bed, naked and aching for him.
Frankie takes his time, standing up and slowly stripping. Watching as you lay down on the bed and spreading your legs to show him your dripping cunt. “So fucking gorgeous and all mine.” He groans, unbuttoning his pants and pushing them down to expose his pre-cum stained boxer briefs.
You moan, “all yours baby.” You shift onto your elbows so you can watch him strip off, his pants kicked aside and his fingers wrap around his cock to slowly pump himself. “I’m yours. Always have been. Since we met.” You promise, chest heaving as he kneels on the bed.
“I wish I had Ava with you.” He admits as he shuffles closer. “You are perfect, great with her too, not just me.” He slides a hand along your thigh. “I used to dream of us being a family.”
You look up at him, “we can have a baby together if you want. Give her a sibling. Not now. But when we are ready.” You tell him.
“Yeah?” He groans quietly, imagining how good you would look round with his baby. “I want that. One day when we’re ready.” He slowly strokes his cock again before moving into position between your thighs.
You inhale deeply, eyes focused on him, and when he notches himself at your entrance, shifting onto his elbows, and you reach up to caress his chest as he starts to push inside of you. “I love you, Francisco.” You murmur softly, looking at him with adoration as he pushes inside of you.
It’s slow. Healing almost, as he closes his eyes. Head pressing against your forehead as he lowers himself on top of you and slides his arms under your back. “I love you, baby.” He promises breathlessly. “So much. You’re my everything.”
You whimper as he pushes into you. “Everything.” You echo, knowing it’s always been true. You caress his back as he pushes deep inside of you and you feel full and complete. Taking a moment to catch your breath, you look at him to take in the moment.
Frankie groans your name when he bottoms out, feeling like he’s home deep inside you. The look of adoration in your eyes makes him want to cry and he knows that Darcy never looked at him that way, not even in the beginning. He leans in and presses his lips to yours, twitching when he does.
You caress every inch of skin you can reach, loving how he feels inside of you, and you kiss him tenderly, unrushed. You want this to last forever. You murmur his name against his lips and he starts to move inside of you, making you gasp.
It’s overwhelming. Every time he rocks his hips he feels like he’s in Heaven. Holding you tight and groaning your name as he kisses you over and over again.
You pant into his mouth, heart pounding and skin on fire as rocks into you. It’s sweet and unhurried and takes your breath away. “Fuck, Frankie. This is better than last time.” You confess as he kisses down your neck.
It is better than the last time. Both of you are sober and there’s no lingering guilt because of Darcy. Nothing but the two of you and the pleasure that your love can bring to each other. “I know.” He rasps out. “Never want it to end.”
“Me neither.” You gasp as he rocks into you and you lift your hip, changing the angle, and it makes your breath hitch as he hits something incredible inside of you. “Shit. There, Frankie.” You pant and he nods, brow furrowing as he rocks into you, focusing on that spot. “Oh God.” You cry softly, “oh shit. That’s - oh I’m gonna-” You whine, clamping down on his cock seconds later.
Stealing his breath, Frankie watches as you come apart under him. Barely able to move as you hold his cock in your spasming walls, he grits his teeth as he tries not to cum. Wanting to make it last a little longer. Although he knows he’s going to wrap himself around you all night rather than slink off in shame.
Your eyes are clenched shut as the pleasure surges through you, making your toes curl, and you know you could never live a day without Frankie. You need him now like you need oxygen. “Fuck baby. I- oh God.” You pant, walls relaxing after you soaked his cock with your cum.
“That’s it, fuck you’re so pretty when you cum.” He praises breathlessly, kissing down your jaw. “Love you so much, need you. Want you forever.” He can’t imagine anything else but you.
His words make your heart pound in your chest and your entire body is responding to him. “I need you. Forever, Francisco. I’ve always been yours. I belong to you.” You promise him with a sigh.
He groans quietly as he starts to move again. Knowing that he will cum soon, he slides a hand between you to rub your clit. “Yours baby, I’m yours.” With Darcy, it had been forced, but with you it’s completely honest. “Want you to cum again, baby.”
You whine softly, overstimulated but he pushes you over into pleasure again and you tangle your fingers in his hair to drag his lips back to yours. You wrap your legs around his hips, pushing him deeper and trapping his hand between you. You whimper into his mouth, getting closer until you fall over the edge again, clamping down on his cock.
This time, Frankie is right there with you. Choking out your name as he pushes deep, wanting to be just as buried as he can manage to be when he starts flooding your womb with his hot seed. Panting with every spurt until he’s collapsing on top of you and pressing his lips to your neck.
You caress his back, eyes closed as you realize he’s safe and you’re together. Everything you ever dreamed to come true is now true and you’ll spend the rest of your life protecting him, loving him. He’s still healing but soon, you want to be his wife, the mother of his children, and spend the rest of your days by his side. It’s a bright future with Frankie, something he never imagined possible: a future with you, him, and your children.
#pedro pascal#frankie morales#frankie morales x reader#francisco morales#frankie morales x you#frankie morales smut#frankie morales fanfiction#frankie morales imagine#frankie morales x f!reader#catfish x reader#catfish x you#catfish x f!reader#triple frontier#tw abuse#tw domestic abuse
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you’re just a boy (and i’m kinda the man)
prompt: “i’m on a one-way trip to take over the world, and i thought you did, but you don’t understand.”
pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader
summary: daniel leaves mclaren, and you decide to put your career first, at the cost of the person you love.
a/n: genuinely made myself sad with this one, sorry :( song is by maisie peters!
masterlist | spotify prompts series
“I just don’t understand how you can stay with them after everything they’ve put you through.”
you ran a hand through your hair, exasperated.
“that’s just it, danny, you don’t understand.” you sighed, slumping forward on the desk, your elbow resting on the surface and your head resting in your hand. the other hand was gripping the phone held to your ear. “this is my career, it’s my entire life. I might not get another opportunity.”
“you know it’s the same for me, right?” daniel’s voice crackled through the phone after a few moments of silence, his volume quieter now. “this is the end of my career, probably. but it’s gotta be better than staying with mclaren.”
you shook your head, even though he couldn’t see.
“but you’re you, danny. you’ll get another chance, I’m sure. you’re one of the biggest faces in this sport.” you sighed again, “but I’m just me. no one is gonna offer me a second chance.” you tried to explain, raising your head slightly to glance at the rain softly hitting the window.
you heard him mutter something inaudible on the other end of the line, the words obscured by the static of the airwaves. you knew he hated when you did that, talked down about yourself. you’d lost count of the number of times the two of you had sat shoulder to shoulder in your drivers room, trying to boost each others spirits after a bad race. daniel was your teammate, your closest friend, your partner in crime, the love of your life. he’d always been able to see things from your point of view. why couldn’t he understand this decision? a conversation from a few months ago drifted through your mind. whatever we do, we do it together. you’d been the one to say that, and now look at you; reluctant to follow daniel into the unknown because you were scared. scared of the uncertainty. scared of losing your one shot at this career. you’d meant what you’d said at the time, but… no. you couldn’t do it. daniel was nearly the best thing that had ever happened to you, second only to earning a seat in formula one. that had to come first. you had to put yourself first. but it didn’t seem to make this phone call any easier. god, you wished you weren’t hundreds of miles away.
“just think, me, you, the outback. we’ll have all the time for dirt bikes and beach trips that you could possibly want.” daniel’s voice brought you back to the present. you could hear the crack in his voice as he tried to persuade you, the one that told you he already knew this was a losing battle. he was losing you. you tilted your head back, looking up at the ceiling; for the first time you were actually glad that this was all happening over a phone call, that daniel couldn’t see the tears forming on your lower lash line.
“I can’t, danny. you know I can’t.” even if daniel couldn’t see you crying, you were being optimistic if you hoped he couldn’t hear it in your voice.
“I know.” he sighed, the noise soft, quiet. there was silence on the line for just a moment, and you felt inclined to fill it, terrified that the conversation was already drawing to a close. you didn’t want daniel to hang up. you didn’t want to believe that this could all be over just like that.
“I’m really sorry, dan.” you apologised, saying anything to try and keep the momentum of the conversation.
“you don’t need to apologise. it’s not your fault.” came his predictable reply, but his tone was missing the kindness, the affection, you’d come to expect from a phone call with daniel. his voice was flat, monotone, and you found yourself unable to read how he was feeling. it had been a long time since that had happened; you and daniel always used to be on the same wavelength. it felt alien, like you were out of your depth. was he angry? upset? did he just not care anymore?
“we can still make this work, can’t we?”
you’d been avoiding the question, but now there was nothing left to say but that. the pause on the other end of the line didn’t fill you with confidence.
“I want to, god, you don’t even understand how much I want to.” came daniel’s reply, voice no longer monotone, instead betraying the emotions he was feeling. you winced as you could almost hear the ‘but’ on the end of his sentence.
“we can try, right? like, I can come visit you over christmas, then next year you’ll probably be at some of the race weekends anyway, and then I can try and get away from training during summer break…”
the more you spoke, the more you realised how hopeless this was. how could you expect to put enough effort into this relationship when you only had a few weekends spare per year? how could you expect daniel to come and watch and cheer for you at each race weekend, knowing that you were living his dream and he was stuck on the sidelines? your voice faltered as it trailed off, the realisation hitting you. fuck. this was it.
“please don’t make this any harder than it needs to be, y/n.”
you’d never heard daniel’s voice so quiet, with so little power behind it. you didn’t know whether you were even pleased that he was as devastated as you were about all this: how could this be the right decision when neither one of you wanted it? such was the reality of this sport. you swallowed thickly - daniel was right, there was no point in drawing this out, making it difficult. you wouldn’t be reduced to begging; at least you could walk away from this with your pride, if nothing else. you wiped a tear from your cheek with the heel of your free hand, the other gripping the phone so tightly that your knuckles turned white, holding onto it like a lifeline.
“no, you’re right. I’m sorry.” you mumbled in reply, once again glancing up at the ceiling to try and stem the flow of tears. you tried not to picture daniel doing the same thing on the end of the phone; it would only make you cry again.
“I’ll, uh, I’ll catch you at races and stuff, next year.” the finality in daniel’s voice made you draw in a shaky breath, steeling yourself for the aftermath. at least you and daniel had never gone public, you were grateful for that much. still, you’d been best friends in the eyes of the public, practically joined at the hip. people would notice when you no longer spent any time together. you tried to park that thought as your mind started to race; there would be time to deal with all of that later.
“yeah. I’ll see you around.” you couldn’t believe this was the way it would end. I’ll see you around. as if you hadn’t spent the last year and a half in each others pockets. as if every kiss and every I love you meant nothing now. as if you hadn’t spent long nights planning out your future together. none of it mattered now, you realised, tears threatening to fall once again.
“I loved you, y/n. never forget that.”
it felt like your throat closed up at that, unable to dignify daniel’s words with a suitable response. there was so much more you wanted to tell him, wanted to say, but you couldn’t even manage to say it back. you bit your lip, letting silence fill the call for one last time, before pulling your phone away from your ear and hitting the button to hang up.
a tear hit the screen of your phone right next to the daniel’s contact name, before the call ended, and his name disappeared.
#daniel ricciardo#daniel riccardo x reader#daniel ricciardo x y/n#daniel ricciardo x you#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#f1 fic#f1 imagine
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desperate (nsfw, mdni)
OR: what happens when König returns from 6 months of deployment
Opening the door to your massive boyfriend felt surreal. There he is, standing in 25 pounds of gear like it's nothing, staring at you through traumatized yet stoic eyes.
He wraps his arms around you before he even gets in the door. His strong arms place themselves on your body like they'd never left; a hand on your back, the other on the back of your neck, softly pressing your head into his shoulder.
You inhale him, shamelessly, smelling metallic blood and sweat, musk and shampoo, him.
Neither of you are inclined to pull away completely, but enough to allow room for a long awaited kiss. König tugs his mask up to reveal his lips and kisses you harshly, your teeth clashing with a delicate force.
It had been months since you and König had touched each other. Months of letters, clandestine polaroids and whispery moans over private pay phones on the rare occasion he was free.
But now he was here, and alive, and god, if he left you now you think you'd die. A kind of electricity pulses in your fingertips, dancing along every piece of him you can find.
You pull him through the door with a rough tug of his vest, and you know he's only letting you control him because fuck he's strong.
The door slams shut behind you and almost immediately he's pressed you against the wall, his grip on your waist firm with intent. Reluctantly, he parts from you momentarily to remove the more dangerous parts of his gear that could hurt you. It was only a few seconds but it felt like an hour for you.
Your whole body is hot, overwhelmed with so many feelings both physical and emotional. You're overstimulated by him in the most beautiful, intoxicating way.
His hands are back on you and your chest is about to explode into a million tiny pieces.
"I love you so much," You whisper absent-mindedly into his neck as he kisses down yours. Your voice cut through the silence but neither of you minded, and neither of you seemed to be bothered by the wordless touching, breathing and feeling of the other. He grunts into your neck, and god that's hot.
König's hand delves into your shorts, his other gripping your thigh firmly. His hand ghosts over your pussy and you whine, shutting your eyes and leaning your head against the wall in anticipation. It's all too much. It's too much but it's what you need.
He doesn't make you wait. Doesn't tease you, edge you, make you beg for it; it's been months already. You both know he'll have you crying in frustration and desperation in a matter of hours, pussy dripping with slick and spit running down your neck, mewling with the pleasure of being denied by him- but that's not what tonight is.
Tonight is for you and him to feel each other, to find each other again. Because god knows it's been too long since his hands have been on you.
His fingers press into you, softly at first but rougher as he realizes how wet you are, how your body seems to melt and conform underneath him.
"Fuck, Köni," You whisper, hands flying up to grab at the back of his neck. He hoists one of your legs over his arm, giving him better access to your pussy. He has 3 fingers in you now, curling them and fucking them into you roughly, eyes staring at you frighteningly lovingly behind his mask.
He loves seeing you like this. He's missed it. He can't hear the noises you make in a polaroid.
"König, Kö- I'm gonna-" You can't even form words when he hits that spot in you. His rough fingers fuck into you relentlessly and you come for the first time, legs vibrating around him. You're completely relying on him to support you but you know he can.
Your head falls onto his shoulder, mouth panting as it presses sloppy kisses to the collar of his uniform. You haven't came like that in months and he hasn't even fucked you proper yet.
He lets you come down from your orgasm, looking into your eyes fearlessly.
In a matter of seconds he picks you up and carries you to your shared bedroom, laying you on the bed like you're made of silk. He cares so much about you it makes you want to cry.
You're about to take your shirt off when he stops you.
"I want to," He says plainly, pulling his mask and shirt off in one movement.
You could worship him like this easily. You haven't seen that lovely, handsome face in so long- god, you can name every scar on it, every crease-
His shirtless figure towers over you and it only makes you even more wet. The curve of his giant shoulders, his chest, the soft abs that litter his core-
You don't realize you're staring until he snaps his fingers, a playful smirk on his face. (God you've missed that smirk."
He strips down to his boxers and you can tell he's rock hard. His dick slaps against his stomach with every movement and you want to touch it so bad, wanna please him as he's pleased you.
His cold hands send shivers up your spine when they trace your waist to take your shirt off, and again when they unclip your bra. He tugs your shorts and underwear off and you're completely exposed in front of him.
Instinctively, you go to cover your pussy, but he grabs both of your wrists with one hand so fast he almost seems angry.
"None of that." He grunts, meeting your eyes. "Do you want this?"
"Yes, f'so long, Köni,"
"Sh, I know, me too. God, me too. I'll take care of you, love." He says, climbing on top of you and kissing your bare skin sloppily. Your skin is so fucking hot, you don't want his cool mouth to ever leave it.
He thrusts a finger into you, then two, but quickly realizes your pussy is practically begging him to shove his dick into you. You could be embarrassed over how wet you are, how much you're pulsing for him.
He throws your legs over his shoulders and positions himself so that his forearms rest on either side of your head, your noses so close they could touch.
And then he starts to enter you, all 8" of him.
"Fuck- shit, König, so big-"
"So fucking tight, schatz-"
He thrusts into you roughly, mercilessly, fucking you deep into the mattress and studying your eyes as he does so. Your hands grab at his back, clawing at it to the point where you're sure you're leaving marks. But you can't help it, and he wants you to mark him.
All you can think about is his dick, and how his skin feels on yours, how his breath feels on your face, how his grunts sound in your ear.
Fuck you've missed this dick. Stretches you out so good, hits you so deep, so rough and thick.
He's fucking you so good, and when he reaches a hand down to slap and play with your clit you know you're gone.
"König, Kö I'm gonna-"
"Come, love. Come on my dick."
You come with a shudder, and for a second you think you've gone to heaven with the way your body feels. Warm static fills your entire body.
Moments later he comes as well, pulling out at the last second to spill his come all over your tits and stomach.
He collapses on the bed next to you, pulling your shaking body onto his. He'll clean you both up in a matter of minutes, but he doesn't want to leave you just yet, too obsessed with the way your small body feels on his. Too caught up watching your bare chest breathe sporadically, trying to catch your breath.
God, you've missed this.
A/N: This is my first time posting on here I'm an ao3 veteran but I loveeee this man so much like fr wanna blend him up & drink him like a smoothie. If u like my writing that's super cool and i'll take ideas or wtv from y'all for sure. Hope you enjoyed :)
#konig x reader#könig#konig call of duty#konig x y/n#konig x you#konig fanfiction#konig smut#konig mw2#cod smut#cod mw2#codnsfw#iwasgigglingwheniwrotethis
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Can We Become we?
Summary: Satoru, Suguru, and you are forced into a marriage by your families for economic and publicity reasons. Satoru, who doesn’t know what it’s really like to love or be loved. Suguru, who deems himself undeserving of anyone’s love. And you, who didn’t want to fall in love in the first place.
The three of you make a mutual agreement to stay out of each other’s business, and keeping the "happy relationship" picture nothing more than an act. But what happens when feelings for each other start to develop?
Chapter 2: Stuck Here Forever
*no smut in this chapter, she/her pronouns for reader*
W/C: 3.7k
You can read it on AO3 here
Satoru was leaning back onto the couch, a foot over his knee and an arm slung around the back. He looked relaxed on the outside, but on the inside, there was a knot in his stomach, only growing tighter by the second.
His expression is blank, turning his head left, then right, then left again, as he follows his father. The man has been pacing back and forth in the living room with quick, determined steps for the past five minutes. It was almost like being caught up in a tennis match, Satoru thought.
“Twenty minutes!” His father grits out, his voice rising in pitch as he struggles to keep his anger under control. “They said they’d arrive in twenty minutes!”
And it’s only been twenty-one. Satoru rolls his eyes and sinks further into the couch. His father was always on a rush in every situation, always trying to control everything and everyone in his life.
This is just a dinner, for crying out loud. Satoru throws his head back on the couch and closed his eyes, trying to ignore his father's bitching about everything. He needs learn how to relax.
“You should stop stressing, baby.” Came the voice of his mother. He was almost certain that she didn’t even look up from her phone as she said that. “It’s not a good look on you.”
“Oh?” There was a smirk to his father’s tone. “Then what is?”
“Hmm?” Okay, now his mother definitely put down her phone. “I have a few ideas. Maybe… I can try them out…”
Eww. If Satoru could roll his eyes while they were closed, he would’ve done it a million times. Instead, he takes a deep breath and lets it out in a loud gag, taking the liberty to even stick his tongue out for better efficiency. Gotta let them know they aren’t alone.
“Satoru.” He could almost feel the glare his father sent his way.
“Yes?” A smirk plays on his lips, satisfied that he was able to piss his father off. “You know, you could just get a room. Then you won’t have to worry about me bothering you.”
Before his father could throw a shoe or the closest object at Satoru, a number of footsteps walk into the room.
“Sir.” Satoru’s eyes peel open when he hears the smooth, even voice of their butler addressing his father. “The Geto family is here.”
Satoru feels his body freeze, a wave of uneasiness washes over him, churning over and over in his stomach as the retreating footsteps of the butler fade away. The steady beating of his heart grows louder in his ears.
The whole point of this gathering was for him and his… fiancés? To meet before tomorrow’s public wedding. He knew that. So why was he feeling so nervous? He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, but the more he tries to focus on his breathing, the more he feels the tension rising inside of him.
“You must be Suguru.” The words come out of his father's mouth like clockwork, a well-rehearsed tone that Satoru has heard so many times before. Used for formalities, always accompanied with a jarring, toothy smile. Fake as shit.
“The pleasure is mine, sir.”
Satoru can’t, and for the most part, doesn’t stop himself from lifting his head the moment that soft voice fills his ears. His eyes automatically land on Suguru, who was bowing politely at his father, before straightening up again, a friendly smile on his face.
Satoru immediately curls a lip in distaste. Because what the hell’s up with those bangs? And also because he doesn’t know what else to do. He exhales a scoff through his nose and throws his head back again, silently hoping that no one noticed the way his face grew hot.
He didn’t want to look at him anyway. And he definitely did not, in any way, want to look at the way Suguru’s shoulders and chest complimented him so perfectly in that light button up, tucked in neatly under those deep blue pants-
ThE pLeASurE iS mine, SiR. He mocks in his head, interrupting those unwarranted thoughts. Pathetic. He was probably just like every other person who meets his father. None of them give a shit about how stingy or ruthless he is, just interested in the money and power that came from being connected to him.
——————————————————
Suguru didn’t know what to expect when he walked through the automatic sliding gate of the big, no, ginormous Gojo estate. He’s only ever seen places like these from the outside. The air was heavy with the smell of leather and rich mahogany, a far cry from the familiar scent of his own home.
It didn’t fit with him. He didn’t belong here.
He hadn't spoken a word to his parents since they told him the news, stuck in a state of shock and disbelief. His appetite had faded so much that he could hardly bring himself to eat. He spent the last two nights tossing and turning, his mind plagued by his own thoughts of what was going to happen.
Still, he thought, none of that was a good enough reason not to make himself look presentable. If there was one thing that Suguru couldn’t do, it was being rude enough to show up as a guest without attempting to appear decent.
And now, Suguru's heart raced as he stood before Satoru's father, feeling as if the older man was staring directly into his soul. He tried to keep his emotions in check, leaving the smile on his face as he fought the urge to flee.
His eyes flicker briefly over the older man’s shoulder, falling onto the exposed throat of the man he was to marry, his head flopped back over the couch.
His gaze quickly returns back onto Satoru’s father when he realises that it’s rude not to keep his attention focused. He takes a deep breath, hoping that he doesn't seem too nervous as he clears his throat and tries to steady his voice.
“I apologise for being late.” He offers, stepping to the side to introduce his parents. “This is my father, and my mother.”
As if on cue, his parents step up, both giving a small, polite bow, introducing themselves as they did.
But Suguru can’t focus on the words, his curiosity distracting him from the conversation taking place in front of him. He leans slightly to the side, trying to get another peek at Satoru. He wonders what’s going on through his mind, the sight of his expressionless face makes it hard to tell. But one thing was clear. Satoru wasn’t happy.
Suguru opted to furrow his eyebrows instead of rolling his eyes. Because of course the prodigal son wouldn’t be happy about marrying some no body whose family owns nothing but a farm. Suguru almost scoffed out loud. Used to own nothing but a farm. Now they had nothing.
Suguru was nothing. And compared to Satoru, he might as well cease to exist. No doubt, Satoru hated his guts, all because his parents were petty enough to sell him off.
If he were Satoru, he would’ve hated himself too.
“Please, don’t wait for an invitation.” Suguru looks back to Satoru’s father, who now had an arm wrapped around his wife’s waist beside him. When did she get there? The older man gestures towards the cream-coloured velvet couch. “Please take a seat.”
His parents don’t need to be told twice, quickly scampering towards the seat with small ‘thank yous’.
“Satoru, you’re an adult, for Christ’s sake. Sit properly in front of our guests.”
Suguru watches in silence as Satoru's father scolds him, before his feet finally start moving. He makes his way to the opposite end of the couch Satoru was on. The white-haired man sighed, long and loud, before straightening his posture. He doesn’t even glance once in Suguru’s direction.
Suguru suddenly feels insulted. Sure, he gets it in a way, that this wasn’t Satoru’s choice and all, but he didn’t get much of a choice either. Did he think himself all high and mighty that much? And why the hell was he wearing sunglasses indoors?
Suguru swallows his pride. Breath in. Smile.
He doesn’t know why he was taking Satoru’s bullshit personally. It’s not like they were in this whole thing for love. The least he could do is tolerate. Maybe, he thinks, hopefully, he silently prays, you’re not going to be an asshole as much as Satoru. Then at least it will be easier for him.
“This way, please.” The voice of the butler who had just recently escorted him and his family, catches Suguru’s attention.
“Ah finally.” Satoru’s father sighs, clapping once and rubbing his palms together. “Our bride is here.”
——————————————————
You and your parents were the last to arrive at the Gojo estate. You didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to meet your ‘soon-to-be husbands’ or their parents. It doesn’t matter what your parents say, or how childish it is, you’re going to frown through this entire gathering.
Unfortunately, that was easier said than done. Because your jaw dropped open in awe the moment you were let in through the gates.
The house, if you could even call it that, was big, huge in fact. So large that you imagine you could fit your entire home five times over, and still have room to spare. It wasn’t surprising, considering that the Gojo family was well known for their wealth.
By the double front doors, you were greeted by an old, but not that old looking man. Your eyes trail from his face down to his clothes, taking in the formal black suit and small bow, and you realise he must be the butler – they even had a butler.
He guides you in, leading you down the hall into a large room that looked a bit too formal to be called a living room, where you find yourself standing before a six-person audience. All heads turned to you.
After a quick scan of everyone’s faces, your eyes fall onto Satoru. He looks at you with hard, judging eyes, his expression impenetrable behind the sunglasses that cover them.
You can't help but notice the uncanny resemblance to his father - the imposing figure seated on the opposite couch - with his white hair and angular jawline. His full lips and sharp nose, on the other hand, seem to be a hallmark of his mother's features.
Your gaze then shifts to Suguru, who looks at you with a curious gaze. His striking beauty is almost otherworldly, with peaceful, cat-like eyes and a delicate jawline. A gentle masculinity softened ever so slightly by feminine features.
He's the type of gorgeous that you can't look away from, and you feel yourself drawn to him, almost instinctively.
Both of them, Satoru and Suguru, although seeming like complete opposites, were equally handsome.
And just like that, the frown that has long since left your face, decides to make a re-entrance. Because what the hell? You were against this whole thing. You were forced into it, expected to go along with it like it's some kind of game. You can’t be thinking like that about the men who didn’t even choose you.
“Well? What are you waiting for, dear?” Satoru’s mother smiles too tightly, her tone way too sweet. “Come and have a seat. Make yourself at home.”
No introduction where needed, because apparently your parents had already met the Gojo’s before during business. Like this is any different.
While there was plenty of free space, it almost seemed like she was being overly obvious for you to take the seat between Satoru and Suguru. So you do. But you make sure to leave a comfortable distance on either side. You suppress the urge to run your fingers over the velvet.
“Aren’t you all just so cute?” Satoru’s mother coos, pulling out her phone. A flash of white momentarily blinds you. “This is going to be perfect for my page.” She beams at her screen.
“Why don’t we all head over to the dining room?” Satoru’s father suddenly suggests. “Let’s give the kids some alone time to get to know each other.”
Your parents all voice their agreements, following Satoru’s mother as she leads them out of the main hall. But Satoru’s father stays behind. Something feels off.
He doesn’t say anything. The silence stretches on for what feels like an eternity, and you start to wonder if he is ever going to speak.
Satoru wanted nothing more than to throw his head into his hands. He knew that this was just the way his father was before starting one of his ‘I am too important for this world’ speeches.
“Listen closely.” Satoru’s father starts, his tone low and calm, yet there’s a hint of warning in it. It reminds you of how Vito Corleone talks in the Godfather, just without the Italian accent. “My family’s reputation,” Satoru lets out a groan at that, rolling his eyes dramatically as his father continued to talk. “And my reputation. They are very important to me.”
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel a little bit intimidated.
“I’m pretty sure they know that, dad.” Satoru grits out, huffing and turning his cheek to the side. “Who doesn’t?”
“Precisely.” His father arches one of his snow-white eyebrows. “Tomorrow is your wedding-”
“Pretty sure they know that too-” Satoru cuts in, earning himself a pointed glare, but he doesn’t give two shits. It kind of makes you feel a bit better, the way Satoru was being so nonchalant.
“And many important people will attend.” His father goes on. “You three, and I mean you two in particular,” he uses two fingers to points at you and Satoru, “would do well to know what you’re dealing with now. Fix those attitudes.”
A pang of irritation spikes up. Is he the one to talk about attitudes? Because you could list down a number of things he needs to fix. The first one is to get himself a therapist.
“I don’t want the public to talk badly about us.” Satoru’s father huffs, throwing his hands in the air. “You like you’re going to be attending a funeral rather than their own wedding!”
And just like that, Satoru snaps.
“Why do they care?!” His voice was loud and filled with venom. “Why the fuck, do they give so much shits about our lives?!”
“Because our family name is one of the most influential throughout all of Japan!” His father spits right back. “And I will NOT have you taint it!”
Your muscles were tense the entire time, heart caught up in your throat at the rising tension. Satoru doesn’t respond, and his father suddenly turns around, taking a deep breath as if to compose himself.
“I don’t care how much you hate it.” He says, calmly. It was as if the yelling that happened seconds ago never existed. He flashes a smile over his shoulder, that almost made you believe it was real. “Act like you want this. You understand?”
And with that, he leaves to join the rest of your parents.
Your eyes dart over to Satoru. His hands were clenched so tight that his knuckles turned white. He was gritting his teeth, eyes planted firmly on a spot on the floor. You instantly felt a pang of sympathy at the unfair treatment he got. Did this happen to him all the time?
A part of you wanted to reach out and comfort him. But you also know that getting involved might only make the situation worse.
Satoru finally speaks, his voice sneering. "Listen, I'm telling you from now.” He says, “I don't care why you're here or what you want from my father and this family, but this” He gestures sharply towards the three of you. "Will never be anything more than an act. You won't stick your noses into my life, and I won't stick mine into yours. I don't care what you do, just leave me out of it."
Despite the harsh tone in those words, you felt a wave of relief wash over you for some reason. That didn’t sound all that bad. It hits you that maybe, just maybe you could do that. You can go through the motions without having to actually share any part of your life with them.
“I don’t have any disagreements.” Suguru voiced out, lifting the remaining weight off your chest.
“Me either.”
——————————————————
The person staring back at you in the mirror was… beautiful. You didn’t know you could even look like this.
The light grey wedding dress had a beautiful flowing skirt, draping down to the floor and swirling around your legs as you move. The delicate fabric is a perfect silhouette that falls on you, hugging your body at the waist where a white, silk obi belt is tied in a lovely bow. Several silver outlines of betta fish were adorned the belt, each one catching the light in just the right way.
“You look gorgeous, sweetie.” Came the hushed whisper of the maid doing the finishing touches.
I know, you wanted to say. But the words catch in your throat. It would probably sound rude, even though you could see yourself as clear as day. “Thank you.” You replied instead.
A light knock came from the door. And with it, the beating of your heart only grew louder.
It was time.
A young lady guided you down a wide hallway, fixing and adjusting the back of your dress as you walked, until you reached the opening of a large, opulent lobby, where your father was waiting for you.
He linked arms with you, smiling warmly at you. There was a look of affection filled in his gaze. “I remember the way I used to carry you on my shoulders like it was yesterday.” He whispered, stroking your cheek. “I can’t even carry you anymore.” Words that did nothing to suppress the loathing for him that started days ago.
You don’t say anything, just nodding and turning your head slightly to the side. You didn’t want to start crying, and you didn’t want to forgive him for this either. And with that, he walks you through the double doors.
The buzzing chatter that had filled every corner in the room, suddenly went silent, and all heads turned to you. The whole lobby was filled with large, round tables, every single chair occupied. You silently questioned if the Gojo family had invited the entire population of Japan here.
Your eyes finally settle directly ahead, and there, standing at the end of the aisle, you see them. Satoru and Suguru.
Satoru was wearing a pure, white kimono underneath a white haori jacket. His hakama pants were a baby blue. As for Suguru, he was dressing in the exact same outfit, except it was darker. His kimono and haori jacket were both black, while his pants were a dark grey.
As if their hair wasn’t already enough of a difference.
You’ve been to a couple of weddings before, you’ve seen the way the groom would look at the bride with a love only told from fairytales, or the way the bride can’t stop the smile from forming on her face. Both of them showing nothing but pure happiness.
Chin up. Smile. You felt the corners of your mouth lifting upwards, grinning as best as you could.
But, even with the way Satoru’s face was lit up with a grin that made his face look even more boyish than before, and even with Suguru’s eyes closed into upside down crescents. Anyone could believe it was real, but you knew. There wasn’t a single trace of real happiness on their faces.
You heart started to beat heavily in your ears. Focus on getting one foot in front of the other. Each time you took a step, it was in sync with the pounding in your chest.
Step.
Step.
Step.
All eyes were on you, wide and unblinking, you could see their mouths moving, sharing whispers. But you couldn’t hear anything. Only the inhale and exhale through your teeth, your eyes set on both the white fluffy hair, flowing freely, and the dark strands that were tied into a perfect bun.
You swallow thickly as a wave of nausea washes over you. Your stomach churned over itself, then over again like a tidal wave washing onto the beach. Sick. You were going to be sick.
You don’t even remember when your father had left your side, waving you in the middle of the two men. You keep your head straight ahead at the priest, unwilling to look at neither Satoru nor Suguru.
Something catches your eye. A small detail you couldn’t have noticed from afar. Satoru’s haori. It was embroidered with light blue outlines of betta fish. And Suguru’s too. All over it, outlined in a magnificent purple.
You wonder who chose this specific fish-
“Y/n?” The priest snapped you out of your thoughts.
You blink at him as he looked at you expectantly. Was it your turn already?
“Opps, sorry.” You let out a nervous chuckle, and straightened yourself. “With this ring and binding, I promise to be there for you both, day or night, in richer or poorer, in sickness and in health.” You recited your practiced vow with a beaming smile, looking up at Suguru, then to Satoru.
You watch as Satoru reaches for the ring, a small smirk on his face as he takes your hand and slides the band onto your finger in a smooth and effortless motion. You felt a tingle at his touch, but you pushed it away as he released you.
Suguru follows, grabbing the ring and sliding it onto Satoru's finger, his smile bright and warm as he turns to you with a sense of excitement. He almost makes you feel like this whole exchange was natural.
You were next. You breathe in, your hand trembling ever so slightly as you reach out for the ring. Taking Suguru’s hand, you place the golden band on his finger, marking the official completion of the ceremony.
The audience bursts into a round of cheers and applause, filling your ears like distant echoes.
That’s it. It was done. You were now tied to them, and they to you.
Chapter1, Chapter3
#jjk geto#jjk gojo#gojo satoru#geto suguru#getou suguru x reader#getou suguru x you#gojou satoru x reader#gojou satoru x you#satosugu x reader#satosugu#satoru x suguru#satoru x reader#suguru x reader#jjk x reader#geto x y/n#gojo x y/n#jjk x y/n#multiple chapters#afab reader#she/her#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#polyamory#gojo angst#geto angst#geto x reader#gojo x reader#gojo x geto
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Ateez reaction to!!
Him liking you but your are dating/crushing on another member
If you enjoy my work please like, reblog and comment. ❤️
Seonghwa: san
He tries to impress you all the time, always asking for your opinion on his outfit or hair. He always tries to include you in group activities outside of “working hours.”
He was so excited for this weekend’s group meeting; he hasn’t seen you in so long. He thought you were busy with work or just wanted to hang out with your girlfriends, so he never gave much thought to it.
You guys were all at the restaurant. You sat next to San and Jongho, and he was across from you. The night was going smoothly, but Seonghwa did notice the way San and you were talking to each other.
He again thought you and San were having a regular conversation, so he didn’t pay much attention.
That was until San asked for everyone’s attention and noticed something was up. He saw the way you were nervous and hardly looking up, but he also saw the light blush on your cheeks.
As San was talking, he announced that you and him had been dating for four months now. When Seonghwa heard the news, his heart dropped and broke at the same time.
He was planning to confess to you this night; he was so heartbroken that he excused himself and went to the restroom, where he broke down crying.
He really thought you liked him, but he realized that you were overly sweet to not only him but to the rest of the boys. He failed to see that you were extra sweet to San, and that’s what hurt him the most.
The fact that he didn’t notice your feelings for San until now. After his breakdown in the bathroom, he put himself together and walked back to the group. You asked him if he was okay, so he replied that he was fine and that he just felt a little sick from the food.
As time passed, he tried to keep himself calm and try to move you. He was happy for your relationship with San; he knew San would treat you well and love you the way you deserved, and that made him happy somehow.
Hongjoong: Wooyoung
Honjoong was really sweet with you; he liked having you around the stupid; he absolutely loved when you gave him your opinion on his work; he liked how honest you were, so he treated your opinion a lot.
One Friday evening, you were in his studio again. He was working on something, and you were on the little couch he had. He had noticed how focused you were on your phone by the fact that you giggled.
He didn’t think much of it; he was thinking you were talking to your friend or something, so he didn’t give much attention.
Until he saw you blushing a bit too much, he couldn’t help himself. He wanted to know what was making you blush so much, so he called you over to him.
He asked if you liked what he added to the new song, and after a bit of talking about the song, he asked you what was making you blush.
At first, you didn’t say anything to embarrass him, but you told him what he thought of Wooyoung. At first, he was confused, but he told you how grateful of a guy he was, how much he loved performing for the fans, and how much he liked to joke around with the guys.
He asked you, to which you replied that you've been crushing on him for a few months now, and lately he’s been flirting with you. You didn’t want to jump to conclusions and wait to see if Wooyoung felt the same way or if he was just being friendly.
Hongjoong was shaken for a bit, and he was sad that you sadly didn’t return the same feelings he did for you.
He pretended that he was okay. He listened to you talking about Wooyoung and how handsome he was. He really hoped you couldn’t tell he was disappointed. He tried to give you advice, but eventually had to get himself out of this situation because it was hurting him.
Yunho: Seonghwa
You were their manager’s little sister, so he would sometimes see you around. Then, eventually, he befriended you.
Soon you started to spend a lot of time with Yunho. You spent so much time together that he ended up falling in love with you.
He wanted to confess multiple times but was scared of his manager’s reaction. He didn’t know if his manager would approve of him or not, so he decided to take his time and try to get on his good side.
One day the manager called him to talk, and he was nervous; he thought he had found out about his crush on you. But what their talk was about surprised him.
His manager asked him to keep an eye out for you and Seonghwa. At first, Yunho was confused, and the manager noticed that, so he told him that you and Seonghwa have been not so secretly dating for a while now, and he wanted to make sure Seonghwa was treating you right.
When Yunho heard that you were dating Seonghwa, he couldn’t believe it. He didn’t know how it happened, but after the manager explained that you never came to the KQ building to visit your brother but to see Seonghwa, Yunho released that you have been dating Seonghwa for a little over five months now.
He agreed to keep an eye out for you, and when he went back to hang out with you and the rest of the boys, he realized that, in fact, you were dating Seonghwa. He paid close attention to the way you would look at one another and how you blushed when he smiled at you.
At that moment, Yunhos heart broke. He was really looking forward to confessing to you, but now that he knew you were dating Seonghwa, he was glad he never confessed, or he would have been rejected.
He was really sad for a couple of months, but he tried to move on because he could see how happy Seonghwa made you, and that kind of made him happy even if it hurt him deep down.
Yeosang: Mingi
Yeosang and you were really close. You guys met in high school, and since then, you were inseparable.
When he asked you to meet his members, you were nervous, but after getting to know them, you got along pretty well.
Yeosang was happy that you became friends with his members, so after a while, your duo became a trio. It was Yeosang Mingi and you.
There wasn’t any time when you three weren’t together; you spent a lot of time with them. One day Mingi went out with Yunho, and it left you and Yeosang alone. He was excited because it’s been a long time since you hung out one on one.
He was being extra nice and even flirting, and you didn’t notice, so he asked what you thought of him. He was really hoping to hear that you liked him, but what you said shook him.
You have told him you saw him as a big brother, someone you could go to when you needed advice or to hear you out. He was like the brother you always wanted to have.
So he asked what you thought of Mingi, and that got you blushing like crazy, so you told him that you had a crush on him and that you liked Mingi’s personality and how sweet he was.
He was obviously hurt by that, but he didn’t show it, so he just smiled through the pain. You told him how you wanted to confess but didn’t know how he only said to just go for it.
It kind of hurt him to see how in love you were with someone else, so he just kept quiet and distanced himself from you and Mingi.
It was wired to you. You had asked him about it, but he just said that he was busy or that he would come up with a lie. He only did that to try to move on from you and to not get hurt more than he already was.
San: jongho
You were playing on your phone in San’s room, and he was on his computer next to you on his bed. You guys always liked to hang out a lot, and this was a regular day today since it was cold out. You guys wanted to stay indoors and chill.
You guys were having a good time doing your own thing until Sand closed his computer and started to ask you questions about your ideal type.
He was really hoping you would describe him, but he slowly realized that you were describing Jongho, and although it kind of hurt him, he asked if you liked Jongho.
And he was right. In fact, he learned that you had been dating him for two months now. He was surprised and heartbroken, but once he saw the smile on your face when you talked about how sweet and kind Jongho was to you, he couldn’t help but smile.
Yes, it did hurt him that you didn’t like him.
Back, but he was happy for you, and Joongho was glad that he made you happy, so he was happy.
He never told you or Jongho about his feelings for you because he didn’t want to ruin your relationship, so he just kept quiet, and after a few months, he slowly started to move on. He was happy for you two.
Mingi: Hongjoong
When he first met you, he knew he liked you. He was hooked by your beauty. He tried to get to know you better, and after a while, you guys became friends.
You were a member of the KQ new girl group, so you saw Mingi often. You were the third oldest member of your group, so you were the same age as Mingi.
You guys got along very well and hung out a lot, but he soon saw that you were more busy and that you were also canceling your hangouts more often.
So one day he went to confront you. He knew you would be in your studio working, so he made his way there, and when he got close, he saw the door to your studio cracked open. He quickly opened it to not disturb you, but before he could fully open it, he saw you making out with none other than his leader and Hyung Kim Hongjoong.
He was frozen in place; he couldn’t believe what he saw, and after a few seconds, he snapped out of it, closed the door to how it originally was, and walked away.
He ran out of the building crying. He didn’t know where he was going, but he needed to be far away from you two.
After a while, he reached a coffee shop, entered, ordered a hot chocolate, and sat down in a corner. He was still so upset, but not at you or Hongjoong.
He was upset that he didn’t see the way you looked at Hongjoong. He was upset that he wasn’t fast enough to confess or to make you fall for him.
Wooyoung: Yunho
Wooyoung loved spending time with you; he loved it when you visited him at the studio; he loved showing his dancing skills to you.
He has liked you since Seonghwa introduced you to the guys. You have been friends with Seonghwa since you were kids, so you guys were like siblings.
He thought you liked him back because of the way you treated him differently. He thought that the way you acted around him showed that you had feelings for him.
But he failed to see the way you acted towards Yunho; he didn’t see the way you blushed when Yunho collected you; he didn’t notice the way you hugged Yunho.
So when he was going to confess, he was really excited; he thought he read the signs right. So on his way to the dance practice, where he knew you were by yourself, he was thinking of a good way to confess to you, but before he entered the dance practice room, he heard you talking to Mingi.
He heard the way you asked Mingi for advice on how to confess to Yunho and if he was sure that Yunho liked you back.
When he heard that his heart dropped to his stomach, he felt his heart broken. He was so sure that you liked him, but now that he heard that you liked Yunho, he started to think back and realize that he missed the way you acted around Yunho.
So he stepped back and walked away to an empty room, where he broke down crying. He didn’t blame you, of course not; he was just upset at the fact that he missed the crush you had on his hyung.
After he calmed down, he went back to the dance practice and pretended that he didn’t hear you talk to Mingi. He acted like he was all good, and he hoped that you wouldn’t notice, but thankfully you didn’t because you were busy thinking of a way to confess to Yunho.
Jongho: Yeosang
Jongho was friends with Y/N for a few years; now they met in high school and became friends fast.
Since we were really close with her, he introduced her to his members, and they hit it off pretty well. They liked her and treated her like one of their own.
Now one thing that you didn’t know was that Jongho was involved with her; he has liked her since the day they met, but he was too shy to confess.
He didn’t tell anyone about his undying love for Y/N, not even the guys, because they would tease him to no end, so no one knew about his crush on Y/N.
On his own day, he invited you out to the mall since it had been a while since they had seen each other. He was having a good time until he saw Y/N on her phone.
He wasn’t trying to spy on her, but he looked over her shoulder and saw she was texting Yeosang when he relied on the reason as to why he hadn’t seen his friend in a while. It was because she was secretly dating Yeosang.
He went one-on-one and realized that Yeosang had been asking him a lot of questions, like, What’s your favorite color or favorite song? and little things like that.
When he realized he was too late, the girl he had crushed on for a long time was taken by Yeosang. He wasn’t angry at him, nor was he angry at himself for taking so long to confess that now he had lost the girl he really liked.
When Y/N was down texting, he turned to look at Jongho and ask if he wanted to go get a snack. He pretended he didn’t see anything and acted normally, but after that day, he distanced himself to get his mind off of you and to move on, but once he had moved on, he would be back to normal, or so he hoped.
Sorry for the bad grammar. I try to make it gender neutral sorry if I failed at it I hope you enjoy it anyway :)
#ateez#ateez fanfic#ateez x y/n#ateez x reader#ateez x you#ateez imagines#ateez scenarios#ateez fanfiction#ateez angst#ateez fluff#ateez fic#seonghwa x reader#hongjoong x reader#yunho x reader#yeosang x reader#san x reader#mingi x reader#wooyoung x reader#jongho x reader#ateez seonghwa x reader#ateez hongjoong x reader#ateez yunho x reader#ateez yeosang x reader#ateez san x reader#ateez mingi x reader#ateez wooyoung x reader#ateez jongho x reader#kpop writers#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios
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Hmmm thinking thoughts about Modern Clegan Break Up Fight AU
Just the pair getting into a fight because Bucky wants to go public about their relationship, but Buck doesn't understand why. Their close friends know, and they know. Who else needs to know? Buck asks this, and Bucky says he wants everyone to know. He wants to do all the cheesy romance shit like meeting the parents and siblings and stuff. Bucky wants to go to parties or events with Buck as his date. He wants to go out on public dates where people see them and know. Buck says he likes their private dates, and he likes how they don't have to be a side show for the people they go to school with (university not high school).
They go back and forth until finally Bucky bursts out that he wants everyone to know because he doesn't want to be the one left behind anymore. Bucky's the good time guy, or so everyone who's ever hooked up with him or gone out with him has said. He's scared that Buck will eventually agree with them (like Buck ever would but Bucky is scared). So now he wants to prove to Gale that he's serious about this, serious about them.
But, Buck's scared in his own way. His dad's still in the picture, and he would rather die than let his shitty excuse for a father anywhere near Bucky. Because his dad is the type to show up and try to teach the boy dating his son a lesson. Except he doesn't say that to Bucky. He says John I don't want to go public with this.
Poor Bucky takes that the exact wrong way. Usually he can read Buck like the back of his hand, but right now he's too emotional and stuck in his own head. He can't see past the facade right now. They start to really argue, building off of each other's energy until finally Bucky says that he can't be with someone who feels like they have to hide being in love with him.
Bucky storms out saying they're over. Heads back to his apartment where he tries to calm down and breathe. He goes and drinks some water to calm down. Except he accidently slices his hand open dropping his water glass. He gets blood all over his bathroom trying to fix it. That's how Curt finds him.
Curt is Bucky's roommate. He wasn't even supposed to be there that weekend. He was actually supposed to be in a different state for a concert the next night, but he forgot his wallet and turned back around after only being on the road for an hour. He finds Bucky bleeding and crying his eyes out, telling himself that that's what he gets for trying to be more than a good time. Curt goes into lockdown mode cause that's bullshit. He cleans Bucky up, and when Bucky looks at him with bright teary eyes and says he and Buck broke up, it's heartbreaking. Bucky sniffles and says he doesn't know what to do because he can't face anyone after this. Curt stuffs Bucky into his car and books it. Bucky forgets his cellphone in the apartment in the rush to get out of there. He realizes it a few hours later when it's too late to turn back.
Buck, meanwhile, has had his panic attack and calmed down. He knows that neither of them were in a good place for that argument, and he gives Bucky some space (a few hours) before he shows up to try and talk to him again. Only Bucky isn't at his apartment, and when Buck can't find him at any of the parties or bars on campus or with their mutual friends, he starts to get scared. Bucky's phone goes straight to voicemail over and over again. Buck goes back and breaks in (uses the spare key Bucky gave him) only to stumble upon an apartment trashed and covered with blood. He freaks out and calls everyone he can think of. Everyone joins the search, and it turns into a whole thing.
Hospitals get called, and then the cops get called, who since they're college town cops are suitably useless. Buck spends the next three days thinking Bucky hurt himself or was hurt bad enough he can't make it to one of their friends or a hospital.
Bucky is having a lovely time by the way. He managed to get a ticket to the concert, maybe Curt had an extra, and it's a great band. He's still heartbroken, but sometimes you just have to scream along to some artist you only learned about yesterday cause it's better than crying. He and Curt end up so hungover the next day that they don't get on the road back to their university until it's super late. They don't tell anyone they got back in town and pass out not knowing everyone in their life thinks Bucky is missing.
Bucky shows up to classes the next day, and he doesn't understand why Brady loses his shit when he sees Bucky walking around campus like their entire friend group hasn't been losing their shit all weekend. Brady drags him away even though Bucky's whining about missing his morning class.
Big reunion scene back at Bucky's apartment where Buck breaks down in tears because he's just so fucking relieved Bucky is okay. They work through their shit, and Bucky has to promise never to go on anymore impromptu road trips.
#okay so i have disappeared after bad break ups so to me this isnt so out there#but also i know that doing so is not a normal or healthy response to breaking up with your so#do better than bucky and i folks#also curt blocked buck's number immediately after bucky said they broke up because buck didnt want to go public#he stands on principle also its so he could resist leaving death threats in Buck's inbox for making bucky doubt his worth#so thats why buck couldnt just call him and ask where bucky was#mota#masters of the air#buck x bucky#john bucky egan#gale buck cleven#clegan#john egan#gale cleven#is this dramatic? yeah but i enjoyed writing it so whatever
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To be loves by...
summary: photographer Nick and writer reader are in love.
note: very self indulge. and very sweet.
Nick and I have known each other since high school, I’m the first person he came out to, I am the one he talks about his interest, I am the one he comes to when crying, I am the one that holds him when he can’t sleep.
we started dating not so long ago, it was interesting because neither of us knew the others feelings. It might have been obvious to most people, but to us it was different, to me it was scary to lose my best friend if he didn’t liked me back.
I noticed I liked Nick when I started writing poems about him, not even realizing it was him, I used to always describe his blue eyes and the deep intensity of them. Now I write them knowing who I write for and sometimes I even give them to him.
'Streaming down my face,
blue like the sea,
my tears go away when our eyes meet...'
Click.
"Did you just took a photo of me" I look up from my notebook and I see Nick smiling behind his camera.
"Maybe... who is asking?" he laughs, putting his camera down on the picnic blanket. "I couldn’t help it; you look so handsome when you write."
"You are gonna finish another roll, how many have you wasted on me?"
"Not a single one, they are not wasted when they are used to capture you..." he moves closer to me, putting one hand on my face and softly kissing my lips.
"You are too corny sometimes." my cheeks feel warm, I’ll never get used to his affection.
"Says the one writing about me." he smiles pridefully and tapa gently at my notebook which I quickly close.
"Not true, you don't know that." I look away from him, my face burning red.
"But darling, I know. You always have a tiny smile on your face when you do." The hand that was still on my face moves my head gently, making our eyes meet again. "It's adorable, truly. Will you show me when you are finished?"
"Maybe." He kisses my cheek and pouts.
"Please, I'll let you see my pictures."
"Do you have ones that aren’t me?"
"I think I have two cats and a pond." he smiles again proudly. "I know you get shy, but I really love your work. Even if I don’t read it, I know it's amazing, it makes me feel flattered that you write about me." he leans in and kisses my lips softly, his hands leaving my face and moving to my waist.
"I was planning on showing you on our anniversary, as a gift, I have a few laying around that I think are good." I confess when he presses his forehead against mine, his eyes looking into mine.
"I have to wait 2 weeks, that’s a lot." he pouts again and I smile.
"It's not that much..." I put a hand on his cheek. "Oh, I forgot to show you, I made a little space on my wall for the pictures you gave me last time." I turn around and take my phone out of my backpack to show him how I arranged the pictures.
"You put the pictures of us in your wall..." he looks down at my phone and I nod, sliding to the next phono which was closer. "Oh, that’s so, thanks." I feel his arms wrap around me and his face on the crook of my neck.
"Nick, baby. Are you crying?" he shakes his head against me, and I wrap my arms around him, rubbing his back gently. "Aww, it’s okay." I kiss his head softly and keep rubbing his back, my other hand going to his head to play with his hair.
I can’t believe such a loving and caring man like him is mine, mine to love and to take care of. He will forever be my muse, and I will be his as long as he allows me to.
#nick sturniolo x reader#nick sturniolo x you#nick sturniolo x male reader#sturniolo triplets x reader
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Random ass headcanons for the Outsiders
(Angst Warning lmao)
Ponyboy Curtis
-Eventually had to quit smoking because he got bronchitis from it, that lead to him having to quit track n' feild
-He kept that note from Johnny for the rest of his life, at one point he cut out Johnny's signature and put the paper in a locket necklace
-For a long time Dallas' last word being "Pony" made him cry whenever he remembered it (Ik this is only movie canon but I just love it"
-He hung out at the empty lot a ton more after everything because it somehow made him feel closer to Johnny and Dally
-Has accidentally called Darry "Dad" more
-He can speak french almost fluently
Johnny Cade
-He hated when people compared him to a puppy because he was a cat person and dogs legit scared him
-He actually really wanted to tell Ponyboy that he loved him in his last words (That doesn't have to be romantically, I think it's more platonic but at the same time to each their own)
-The note Johnny had written to Ponyboy and left in the book was written in purple crayon, he wanted it to be red since that's Ponyboy's favourite colour but the nurse didn't have any red crayons
-The doctor who was keeping Mrs. Cade back and the nurse who told Johnny his mom was there were both "Considering calling CPS on that crazy lady if that kid survives,"
Dallas Winston
-When Dallas said "Pony..." right before he died, he was trying to tell him to stay alive. In a "Dont be like me" sense
-He was actually a really good boyfriend to Sylvia, almost to simping degrees, he doesn't get a lot of affection so he was starved for whatever Sylvia was giving him. It was totally toxic for him, and Johnny was always worried about it
-His skull ring was stolen from a thrift store, he stole it when he was 12
-Drunk cryer
Two-Bit Matthews
-His dad was italian-american
-His mom is actually from Canada, she moved to Olkahoma with her parents when she was in highschool, making Two-Bit Canadian but not a Canadian citizen
-He played a lot of hockey and baseball up until he turned 12
-Sometimes he gets super drunk and starts flirting with any of the greasers except for Ponyboy because; "If I'm going to jail it's not gonna be for charges of pedophilia."
Sodapop Curtis
-Definitely had Steve help him write the note to Ponyboy because his handwriting is barely legible.
-He's dyslexic.
-When Ponyboy had run off with Johnny he actually tried to confide in Sandy, but she couldn't stand to talk to him except over the phone so the only person Soda trusted to talk to was Steve
-Soda is a terrible cook
-When Soda is sitting down with Darry and Ponyboy before he ran out he was trying to discreetly cover his ears, and if Pony and Darry were paying attention to anything other than their own fighting they'd see Soda's about-to-cry eyes
-Can't fix a car to save his life, at least not like Steve can. He can door minor stuff but that's it.
-His first kiss was Steve by complete accident, the two were quite literally butting heads in the 6th grade. Nobody knows except them and they had this whole oath to never tell anybody
Steve Randle
-His parents split up, he has a step-dad and a step-mom and his bio parents are still on good terms. They aren't even legally divorced because neither of them could afford it
-He's actually pretty good friends with Buck like Dallas is because Buck brings his T-Bird to the DX whenever he needs something done with it, Buck is Steve's best-paying customer
-Steve's favourite pass-time is throwing glass bottles at Soc cars and ditching
-Steve favours his step-dad to his step-mom because he thinks his step-mom is taking advantage of his dad
-He actually has a step-sister but she's like 22 and in college
Darry Curtis
-Darry does indeed cry when Ponyboy calls him dad
-He genuinely had panic attacks before going to bed the whole week Ponyboy was gone
-Man has anxiety problems but wasn't actually diagnosed until the late 80's when he finally stopped being an "I don't need any help" man and decided to go to therapy... in his forties.
-Darry fucking loves dogs
-He would carry Johnny around like a doll if he needed to (if Johnny was in his way or needed to be pulled away from something)
#the outsiders ponyboy#the outsiders johnny#the outsiders sodapop#the outsiders steve#the outsiders#the outsiders dallas#the outsiders darry#ponyboy curtis#darry curtis#sodapop curtis#steve randle#two bit mathews#the outsiders two-bit matthews#johnny cade#dallas winston#the outsiders headcanons
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Fuck Your Boyfriend Matt sturniolo x Fem!reader Cheater chris x Fem!reader
Warnings: cheating, Dom!Matt, choking, crying, pet names, smut blah blah blah
sam yaps: FUCK YO BOYFRIEND HE A BITCH AND I THINK ITS TIME YOU SWITCH CALL ME WHEN UR FEELIN LONELY NA NA NA NA NA NA NA
I'm laying on the couch on my back scrolling through the brain rotting tiktoks about new stanley cups and tiktok rizz party. "what the fuck is my for you page anymore bro" i say to myself, sighing jumping up from my seat heading to the kitchen to make a snack for a movie night all alone.
My boyfriend chris has been cold and distant to me since him and his brothers recent tour. All he's been doing is going out, coming home, picking a fight with me and then leaving to stay at a friends house for a while.
Todays fight of the day with him was "why the fuck would you post yourself in a mini skirt", he's never really had a problem with me posting in revealing stuff before the tour, his only issue back then was; "i want you to be all for me baby", now its become; "you're acting like an attention seeking whore".
As i wait for my popcorn to finish in the microwave, i'm choosing a song on my phone to listen to in the meantime. i place my phone on the counter opening the microwave to take out the bag of popcorn and put it in a bowl.
Pouring the popcorn into a bowl i pause getting a notification on my phone, multiple notifications.
"hm, unknown number?" i say to myself opening the chat to see what i was sent.
"WHAT THE FUCK" you scream to yourself, dropping the bowl of popcorn you had in your hand, making a loud bang.
-
"what happened what was the noi- oh my god" matt says as he walks into the kitchen, waking up from the loud noise from beside his bedroom. You were currently laying on the kitchen floor, back against the fridge, legs up to your chest and your faces in between them sobbing your eyes out.
"oh my god what happened y/n/n" matt says a worried look hurrying over to his face as he sits next to you pulling you in for a hug.
you say absolutley nothing, handing your phone to him where the text messages are still visible.
"oh that mother fucker" he says angrily.
"do you know where he is right now?" matt asks you lifting up your swollen face from your chin with his fingers to face him.
"yeah...hes at a house party some friend is hosting" you manage to say from in between sobs.
As matt attempts to get up, you knowing that he will go fuck chris up you stop him.
"matt no!, please I need you right now" you speak, looking up at him with glossy eyes that he immediately melts into.
"...okay" he spoke before picking you up bridal style and placing you on the couch, "wait here"
he goes on to get you a blanket, walking over to you and sitting next to you to place the blanket on the both of you.
you lean your head on his shoulder as he pulls you in for a hug, "what do you wanna watch?" he asks.
"anything.." you reply quietly.
"hey, you can talk to me"
"I don't know its just, I feel disgusting, why would he cheat on me? is something wrong with me? does he really think I'm a whore or seek attention?"
"Chris is a dumbass and doesn't deserve you, you're the most beautiful person I've ever laid eyes on and he's a big dumbass for not seeing that beauty within you, your eyes, your hair, your everything. you should just text him that you're breaking up." he speaks looking into you eyes with nothing but love.
your faces get closer, your noses brushing up against each other, until he grabs your cheek and smashes your lips together. you tongues fight for dominance, the kiss getting heated quickly, teeth clashing and spit mixing, you pull away slowly from the kiss nothing but a string of saliva connecting you both.
his hand is on your cheek just as he stares into your beautiful brown eyes, "I love you y/n." he utters. "I love you too Matty" you mumble before he puts his lips on your again kissing you even harder.
you fall back onto the couch, making matt now above you, he quickly pulls away to remove his shirt as you do the same, going back to making out while he tries to remove his sweats and boxers at the same time.
he pulls away and his hand reaches down to the band of your panties, "can I take these off?" he asks.
"yes please I need you" you whine, squirming under his touch.
"my needy girl" he chuckles as he grabs the bands of your panties and sweeps them off quickly.
he pumps himself a little lubing his length with his precum, alinging his member to your entrance
"just tell me if you need me to stop okay?" he speaks gently holding your cheek.
"okay.." you whimper when he pushes himself in agonizingly slow, stopping for you to get used to his length.
"matt please move I don't need to wait" you whine pathetically.
"okay princess" he says, speeding up his movements hitting the right spot each time.
"God matt...yes yes yes" you moan out before matt grabs your throat, "keep quiet princess we don't want Nick hearing us yeah?" he mutters as he looks down to see the bulge in your stomach, pressing down on it with the hand that choked you, adding pressure to you.
"mm matty I'm so clo..se" you utter unable to speak from the ephoric feeling, he reaches down to your clit rubbing tight circles causing you to leach your hands onto his back, your nails leaving makes that are sure to reveal in the morning.
as soon as you start seeing nothing but Matt's eyes and stars you cum all over him coating his length, "where do you want it princess" matt asks speeding his movements, slightly overstimulating you.
"i-in me" you moan from still being sensitive, a few pumps in and matt finishes in you, coating your walls white.
he pulls out earning a whine from you as he lays down next to you. "are you okay my princess?" he asks, reaching to your face to move the hair away. "more than okay" you smile back before you guys to wash off and get dressed, going back on the couch to watch a movie only to fall a sleep cuddling each other under the blankets.
-
5:36am
the door slams and you hear loud foot steps waking you and matt up.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?" chris screams, reffering to you and matt cuddling on the couch.
tears start forming in your eyes causing Chris to get angrier and matt to pull you into a hug making you sob on his shoulder.
"don't fucking scream at her acting like you didn't kiss two different girls yesterday at the bitch party of yours." chris' eyes soften into horror from Matt's words, "you don't fucking deserve her, you're a cheater and an asshole might as well just fucking leave the house." matt continues yelling causing Nick to come out to the comotion and chris to stay quiet lowering his head.
"what the fuck happened here?' Nick questions.
"why don't you ask this fucking asshole" matt scoffs, picking you up and taking you to his room.
"chris what happened why is y/n crying? and why are you starting to cry? and why did matt take her?" Nick questions confused as to why his brothers girlfriend is with the other brother.
"I..I cheated" Chris manages to say in between sobs.
"what the fuck...you're sick Chris." Nick mutters disappointedly before walking off to Matt's room to find you.
-
matt takes you his room leaving Nick and Chris alone, as he slams his door shut.
he places your sobbing body on his bed, grabbing a few tissues from his nightstand and sitting next to you to wipe your tears, "its okay princess, I promise you wont have to see him again. I can get us an apartment or another house and we can go live there. you wont have to experience this ever again." he says gently wiping your sweet face.
"thank you matt, I love you so much"
"I love you more than you can imagine baby" he says taking you in for a hug, until you guys hear a knock on the door seeing Nick walk in.
"I'm so sorry y/n" he says going in to hug you.
"yeah..its alright" you say melting into nicks hug.
Sam yaps: I couldn't figure out an ending lol ALSO IM ALIVE I HAVENT POSTED IN SO LONG YAYAYA
tag list 🏷️: @urmommysbathroom @tillies33ssss @jamiesturniolo @iliketotalk @imwetforyourmom @69isabella69 @dylnblue @venusxsturnio @h3arts4harry @marryx2xx
#matt sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo x reader#fanfic#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo fanfic#nick sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo#fluff
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We've Got You
Nick ignores his mental health in favor of staying on top of work. When his involuntary age regression catches up with him, Matt and Chris are there.
Told in 3rd person limited (like most of my stories) where the reader has access to Nick’s thoughts, but not Matt or Chris’s.
DISCLAIMER:
This is an age regression fanfic! Age regression is a completely nonsexual coping skill and it is represented appropriately and correctly as it relates to my life. Regression can be positive in many circumstances, but not all. If you are struggling with your mental health or involuntary age regression, talking to a professional is always the best choice.
Hate will not be tolerated, nor will it be entertained. I will not give you my attention; your comment will just be deleted! Please don’t waste your time, just take your bullshit somewhere else!
One more note:
This is NOT incestual, nor is it sexual in any manner. The comfort Nick receives during and after his panic attack is purely loving, familial support. Yes! They cuddle! Yes! They hold Nick and rub his back! Yes! They share a bed for the night! No! None of that makes this “weird!”
TWs: Panic attack, descriptions of the physical sensation of a panic attack, avoiding regression, swearing, lighthearted arguing, guilt for enjoying a pacifier
Okay on to the story!
Nick always tries to be the quick witted, loud, strong oldest brother. With the triplets spending so much time in LA just the three of them, more now than ever they have to keep each other in line. And yes, that means Nick has to take care of his brothers even when he doesn’t want to.
Matt may be their transportation as the only brother with a license, but Nick still feels like he’s mothering them half of the time. He’s constantly sticking a hand between his brother's faces both literally and metaphorically. While Nick probably couldn’t love Matt and Chris any more than he does, they’re brothers; it’s impossible for them not to get on his nerves sometimes.
Currently, the triplets are sitting in a parking lot about ten minutes from their house filming a car video. Nick is tired and has been a bit quieter than usual, leaving his quips and comebacks to a minimum, just listening to Matt and Chris rant.
Suddenly, of-fucking-course, the two are arguing again. It’s something stupid about the song that’s playing in the background— no wait— it’s about Matt’s phone? Nick isn’t really sure, he’s just exhausted. It’s not the other boys fault; they can disagree and get at each other throats all they want in the car videos. Nick knows the fans love it, but in that moment he’s just so goddamn overwhelmed.
Nick tries to open his mouth to tell his brothers to shut the fuck up, but no sound comes out. He feels a bit like he’s sinking into the backseat, totally isolated from the argument in the front. Nick knows he’s fine, so why does he want to cry? Why can’t he get his words to come out?
A tear escapes and slips down his cheek. He tries to wipe it away but his arm feels so heavy and his fingers feel so clunky and they’re not moving the way he needs them to. Why is everything so hard?
Without even meaning to, Nick lets a little whine slip past his lips. Even though he hates asking for help, he’s sure he needs Matt and Chris. If nothing else, they need to turn off the camera, but apparently the fighting in the front seat is too loud, because the boys give no indication of hearing him.
Oh no, Nick realizes as his mind gets even fuzzier, I’m slipping.
Nick knows he regresses if stress gets to him too much– his brothers know too, but God, it hasn’t happened in months.
He’s usually pretty good about preventing it by being gentle with himself, but it’s just been so fucking stressful this month. The end of the podcast just ended up being a lot of work and he didn’t have time to cater to his mental health the way he has to to make sure he never slips.
This is the result, I guess, Nick thinks. Because he refused to show himself some goddamn love when he was big, his brain was forcing him to regress. And he didn’t get to pick when.
“Matt?” The oldest choked out.
Still no response. Nick felt like he was sinking into his brain as everything started to feel eerily quiet, like his brother’s voices were coming from underwater.
Maybe I’m the one underwater, he thinks as the whole world begins to appear muted in color. My sensory processing just conked out, didn’t it.
“Chris? Help,” Nick tried again, but it came out even quieter than the previous attempt. Despite his every effort, Nick felt his eyes well up.
Why won’t they stop arguing? I need help! I need help and I don’t know how to get it! Someone please help me. Matt? Chris? Please help me.
It’s all far too much, so he closes his eyes and fights against his heavy limbs, eventually able to pick up his hands to cover his ears. He feels himself shaking gently and the first of his tears begin to flow down his cheeks. Apparently, Nick hasn’t breathed in a while, because suddenly he feels himself gasp involuntary. Fighting the sudden rush of air, his throat catches on nothing and he coughs out, forcing more tears to spill.
Nick’s forearms are covering his cheeks from the way he's trying to protect his ears, and he feels them wet from how hard he's begun to cry. He convulses in a sob and finally, a loud enough sound comes out.
“Nick?!” He hears Matt yell. “Something’s wrong, Chris! Turn that shit off!”
They’re coming. They’re gonna help. Please hurry, though.
“Okay, okay I am. Go get in the back with him!” Chris’s response comes, quieter.
He doesn't even hear the door open, but suddenly Matt’s arms are around him. He’s wracked by sobs as his body relaxes into Matt’s chest.
It’s all okay. I’m okay. They’ll make it okay.
Matt’s arms are rubbing Nick’s back as he shakes and he can feel how his tears have wet the shoulder of his t-shirt. A moment later, he feels the seat underneath them move like another body has sat down, and then he hears Chris’s voice.
“It’s okay, Nick. We’ve got you,” Chris says gently. As Matt keeps touching him comfortingly, Chris keeps talking.
“The camera is off and we can delete all the footage later. I’m so sorry we didn’t notice what was happening earlier. Matt and I are gonna help, okay? You’re gonna be fine.”
“Chris,” Matt whispers, “Take him? I want to get us home.”
“‘Course,” Chris says. Nick whines and holds onto Matt, clearly comfortable where he is, but the boys are still able to switch who he’s sitting onto fairly easily. He's stopped crying and looks up at Chris as he pulls him into his lap. Chris is sitting properly in the left seat with Nick on his lap, back leaned against the door and head on Chris’s shoulder. It's probably illegal, but with the boy no longer crying, they won’t be taking any risks.
As Matt gets out of the back and back into the driver’s seat, Chris haphazardly wraps the seatbelt over the two of them. Nick pulls his knees up and burrows his head into his brother's shoulder. Quietly, he pulls a thumb into his mouth before looking up at Chris as if waiting to be told off. He waits, half expecting to be called gross, even though he knows his brothers don't find his regression gross.
“Oh, you’re small, Nicky. How old are you?” Chris asks with nothing but love in his voice. Nick doesn't respond, just closing his eyes and sinking into the comfort.
“He’s small?” Matt asks from the front. “How old did he say?”
“Didn’t respond. I’d guess one by the thumb and how he was crying earlier,” Chris responds, petting Nick's hair and trying to make sure he doesn't slip out of his lap on the drive home.
Matt sighs, “Okay, we’re only a minute away from home. What do you think we do when we get there? It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him regress.”
“Well first get his pacifier, I don’t want his fingers in his mouth and longer than they have to be, but I’m pretty sure he’ll cry if I try to take them out without a replacement. Next… uhh… I don’t think he’s going to be chill with me letting go of him unless I'm literally putting him into your arms, but he seems exhausted. I’d say we all get in your bed and try to get him to go to bed? It’s late for all of us, especially for the baby,” Chris says, looking down at Nick and laughing quietly as they pull into the driveway.
“Alright, I’m going to come and help you stand up with him so you can carry him in. He’s not going to walk himself, is he?” Matt replies, looking back at the little boy curled into Chris with his thumb in his mouth.
“No way.” Chris says, reaching to unbuckle them. Matt steps out of the car and opens the door for Nick and Chris.
Sounding confused, Matt asks, “How are we going to make this work?”
“You just take him? I don't think I can stand up with him in my lap even with your help,” Chris suggests. Matt slots his arms under Nick’s knees and picks him up bridal style. Luckily, there is minimal protest from the little, just a whine and some still watery eyes. With Nick out of his lap, Chris climbs out of the car, shuts the door, locks it and runs up ahead of his brothers to unlock and open their door.
Now that they are standing, Matt carries Nick with ease. Up the steps of their porch and into the house, the lack of strain on Matt’s face makes it appear as if Nick really is a baby. Chris smiles with the thought as he follows the two inside and closes the door behind them.
“I’ll find his paci. Get in bed?” Chris calls out as he tosses the car keys on the kitchen table.
“Got it,” comes Matt’s reply. Chris has no idea where the little’s paci might be, but it’s pretty important that he finds it, so he starts by tearing out the couch cushions to see if it's tucked underneath one of them. With no luck, he heads up to Nick’s room and strips his bed, checking if it might be in there. Unfortunately, the stupid blue thing is still nowhere to be found.
Nick can hear Chris tearing his room apart looking for his pacifier as Matt carries him upstairs.
He’s never gonna find it.
Too small to tell Matt where it is, he just tugs on his sleeve and looks down the hall to his room.
Fortunately, Matt gets the message. “Want to go help Chrissy?” Matt says and turns toward the sound of the rummaging. As they walk into the room, Chris looks at the boys defeated.
“I can’t find it,” he sighs.
“Losat,” comes Nick’s small voice.
Oh no, are they going to think that means I lost it? No no, that’s supposed to be “closet.”
“In the closet?” Matt and Chris respond in unison, walking into the closet and digging through the junk on his closet floor.
Oh thank God.
Matt sets Nick down, leaning his back against the closet wall so he can move his shoes. Underneath, he finds a small shoebox covered in stickers. How promising. Opening it up, Matt discovers the pacifier and a couple small toys.
“Bingo, Chris! It's right here,” Matt exclaims.
“Why’d you hide it away like this, sweet pea?” Chris asks the little boy, scooping him up like a koala. Nick doesn't respond other than a whine and rests his chin on Chris’s shoulder, facing the opposite direction.
The boys walk out of the closet, Matt with a pacifier in hand and Chris with a Nick in… arms.
“I need to wash this off,” Matt says and walks into the bathroom.
“Okay, bring it to us when you're done,” Chris says and hikes Nick up so his legs can wrap around his waist. Nick has one arm wrapped around Chris’s shoulder and neck and the other bent so his thumb can slip back into his mouth. “You ready for bed, honey?” Chris whispers into his ear as he leans over the bed, working to gently disconnect Nick from him. Eventually, he separates them, laying Nick down on his back in Matt’s bed. Chris pulls Nick's shoes off, brushes the little’s hair out of his face, kicks off his own Crocs and crawls into bed with Nick. He drags the covers up over them and pulls Nick closer to make space for Matt to lay on the other side of the boy.
“Okay bub, I’ve got your paci,” comes Matt’s voice. Carefully, he pulls Nick’s hand away from his mouth and replaces it with the blue pacifier, slotting it between his lips.
That helps. That helps so much. Why am I like this? Why does that help?!
Matt slips under the covers and wraps his arms around the boy. “Nick, honey, I can see you freaking out. It’s okay that you like that. It's not gross, it’s not bad, and Chrissy and I don't mind. We love you bubba.”
“Luv yous too.”
#age regression#age dreaming#matt sturniolo#the sturniolo triplets#nick sturniolo#sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#nicolas sturniolo#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#fluff#comfort#sturniolo fanfic#age regressor#sfw#sfw littlespace
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They absolutely annoy each other for fun (very respectfully.)
And Lumi better bully him for that bob ass haircut because absolutely not, not in my phone gallery
Working on a small thing about Lumi, mostly the small village they’re protecting (end me, I hate perspective, I am crying)
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel art#hazbin hotel fanart#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#alastor#alastor art#alastor x reader#alastor x oc#hazbin hotel original character#hazbin hotel oc#hazbin art#oc: lumi#hazbin oc
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Saw some of the grossest parenting today in the bus
#this dad was on his phone the whole bus ride ok#and his two kids were screaming arguing#at most he would periodically tell them to lower their voice while still on his phone#one time he told them to stop the one sitting next to him hit him 😭 and he went back to look at his phone with no reaction#my guy something is seriously wrong with you#your kids are screaming at each other doesn't even matter all that much that we are in the bus rn#theyre not just being loud kids you need to do smt!!!!!! its too early for this!!! i could hear them even with my noise cancelling headphone#anyways#ive never seen smt like this#and i work in a mall i see lots of parents and kids#idk smt really disgusting about a parent just not even interested in engaging with their kids#dude no wonder they're loud they probably want ur attention#also this one lady once who came in wjth a big stroller#and the store where i work has little moving rooms between the aisle so this woman decided TO LEAVE THE STROLLER WITH A KID INSIDE AT THE#FRONT OF THE STORE#the kids started crying and his hrother (toddler not in the stroller but not following the mom for some reason) started exploring and i#i had to watch them until the mom came back but like the woman just left them there???#i just stepped in but what if i hadnt??? lady?????????#i see lots of cute interactions of course#like this little girl who came with who i think is her grandpa and he asked me to help her chose her next manga read 😭💖#i basically work in a book/toy store#theres a lot of candy as well the kids love it#idk i like seeing kids being happy ok it is healing#like all the kids sitting on the floors deep in their books while the parents shop 😭😭😭 makes me smile every time top tier behavior
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look who flew in! adrien's family came to surprise adrien all the way from san sequoia!
what adrien doesn't know is that rua and adrien's parents have been organizing the visit for a few months!
#ts4#ts4 gameplay#sims 4 gameplay#postcard legacy challenge#TEEN JULIE TEEN JULIE !!!#WAAAAH IM GONNA CRY sure adrien's seen juliette over facetime but the last time he's seen her in person she was 12 :(((#even as a teen she's glued to his hip. on the plane ride over she worried if things would be awkward having not seen each other#in person in a while. but the two of them fell into a groove as siblings do. she fills him in on all the teen gossip she's been saving.#rua had given her some music recs the last time they spoke on the phone. so she talks his ear off about the new bands she likes#he even lets her play around in his record collection#postcard: gen3#queue#sim: adrien herrera#sim: rua kamealoha#sim: danny avagyan#sim: rosa han#sim: juliette han-avagyan
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tim faking a back injury while play wrestling with lucy all so he can pop up and pin her back down to the ground and tickle her senseless, can you please imagine how cute that would be????
#*and this is icarly!#the rookie#tim bradford#lucy chen#chenford#otp: you know me so well#like...#imagine them laughing and squealing climbing rolling and hitting each other in a fit of giggles on the floor like toddlers#until tim decides to use his emergency spinal surgery to his advantage#to suddenly ✌️ pull a muscle in his back ✌️#groaning in agony again about how much it hurts#sending lucy into panic mode as she sits up and frantically scans the living room for her phone to call for help#and then while her guard is down... BAM!!! tim the sneaky lil bastard turns the tables on her and pins her down#she doesn't take him seriously about it at first but he puts on a real good show of being hurt and is like 'no i'm serious lucy'#and her face falls instantly like 'o-okay... hold on babe i'm gonna call for help' 🥺🥺#it's honestly just a one time thing he tries though since he felt super guilty about lucy's emotional reaction#and the fact that he made her tear up and cry a little bit with this silly little stunt#GODDDDD I AM SO IN MY FEELS FOR THEM TODAY I MISS THEM SO MUCH
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