#we all know exactly who I’m talking about when I say that I wish I had that in a person | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luxurychristmaspudding · 4 months

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summary: you’ve been serving frankie and his friends at your bar for months. despite your wishing and wanting, the shy pilot doesn’t work up the nerve to ask you out before santi introduces you to his buddy, joel.

swept off your feet by the sweet southerner, and charmed by pope, the boys come together to show frankie exactly what it is he’s missing.

read part 2, watch, here

grouping: f!reader x joel miller x frankie morales x santiago garcia

rating/warnings: 18+. MDNI. no outbreak (tlou) - but based after the tf mission. softdom!joel, softdom!santi, sub!frankie, sub!reader, voyeurism, exhibitionism, maybe MFM?, sharing the luuuurve, praise kink, one (1) count of spitting in mouth, dirty talk, daddy kink (heavy, sorry lmao), oral (f&m receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it!), creampie, come eating, pussyjob?, so many orgasms i started to lose count, maybe a tiny bit of angst, m!masturbation, light choking, f!overstim, bad spanish, right okay we’re done.

wc: 14.7k. we aren't gonna talk about it.

an: this is fucking filthy. i’m sorry. don’t ask.

When you first started to hang out with them all, Will told you that Frankie was useless with women. What you didn’t expect was for him to be this fucking oblivious.

You had been bartending when you met him at a bar downtown - all industrial steel, burnished mirrors, and low light. Frankie and the boys would come in every so often, and you warmed to them immediately. It was hard not to. The four men were always respectful, always polite. They never overstayed their welcome, or their tolerance, and always asked how you were.

Of course, it helped that they were also handsome, and you quickly fell into the trap you were sure they wove for all hospitality staff. The lingering glances from their table, the crooked smiles at the bar. The competition they seemed to enjoy amongst themselves of who could lather you with the most attention.

Will and Benny did particularly well. The elder brother saved a special, particularly mischievous smile and a wink for you every time he came to order, and saved a special, bruising elbow to the ribs for his brother every time he caught Benny staring. Benny was always a hoot considering his sore ribs, the air never seeming to have been knocked from him as he chatted away to you across the polished wood.

But it was the quieter two, Frankie and Santi, who piqued your curiosity. Santi - often cool, detached; who offered little information in the way of his life but seemed to want to be wrapped up in yours. Who would watch you over the rim of his glass of whisky, drop his eyes to your lips, dip his mouth in a smirk, and say he’d see you later. And Frankie, who could do almost nothing but watch you from his corner of their booth, his Standard Oil cap sunk low on his brow, both hands around his bottle. His deep swallow when you’d catch his eye. The blush that would crawl up his neck, threading through his cheeks when you smiled.

Over the months they came to the bar while you worked there, the five of you became friends of sorts. Once in a blue moon turned into once every two weeks, turned into every Saturday night. And you made sure you were always there, sacrificing the time you would have spent surfing social media on your sofa for time spent flirting with your favourite regulars. Enjoying their eyes on you. Enjoying Frankie’s blush when you called him sugar as you asked if he needed anything else.

One day, you hoped he’d gather enough courage to give you the answer you hoped for.

You.

But he never did.

When the time came for you to move on from the bar, you made sure to let them know. Your new job further into the city was a step exactly in the direction you wanted to go, and though the men shared touching groans of disappointment, they congratulated you wholeheartedly.

They also invited you to their Saturday night drinks. You gladly accepted.

On your last shift, Will slid you Frankie’s mobile number, explaining that he was the most reliable member, the one most likely to know what was going on with the group at any given time. When you ribbed him about how he must always be on his phone, Frankie shyly admitted it was because he had a daughter. He was constantly on the lookout for updates, sweet little pictures and messages his ex would send over. They had a good relationship, and his kid - Lucia - was gorgeous. They just live a little far away, Frankie had admitted, a sad little frown glazing over his features.

You had softened to him even more, asking him questions about his daughter over the bar while you poured his drinks, propping your chin in your hand and listening to him as he continued to talk after you were finished. You found yourself trying to make Frankie laugh, to hear his sweet chuckle, to brush a touch against his arm, see the sparkle in his eyes beneath his cap - similar, you imagined, to how your own eyes glittered back at him.

The conversation only stalled when Benny called for him - Fish, where are those drinks? - earning himself a thump from Will, who muttered something about Frankie finally finding the courage and Benny’s big fuckin’ mouth. Frankie’s cheeks had heated, and he'd cleared his throat, thanking you before gathering all the drinks in his large hands and heading back to the booth.

What you had overheard heated the tips of your ears and rattled around your brain, looming in the back of your mind when you joined them the Saturday after.

But Will's words must have just been a silly little joke, because no matter how hard you try, Frankie will not bend. No matter what you wear, no matter what you do, the curly haired pilot remains firmly out of reach.

And it’s not like you don’t have fun together. You join them on nights out. You’ve been invited over for poker games and parties. You share glances with Frankie, jokes, tales, hell, sometimes he even puts an arm around you. But it’s always the same. The end of the evening is always frustratingly uneventful.

Crowded into sweaty bars and packed living rooms, you’re caught in a never ending circle of wanting and longing. Maybe that’s why, one night, you find yourself exchanging heated glances with Santi.

Frankie never really touches you beyond a hug and a kiss on the cheek when you arrive, and remains a staunch gentleman no matter how much he drinks. Santi seems to strive to do the opposite. He finds you in the kitchen one night, trying to cool off after watching Frankie laugh and lean into another woman’s conversation, feeling foolish, immature, but trying to blink away tears anyway.

He talks to you like you’re the only interesting person he’s ever met, standing a little too close for a friend, only moving away when you’re interrupted by one of Benny’s buddies searching for a beer. When you return to the living room, Frankie notices. Notices how Santi pulls you in close when you’re near, presses a kiss to your hair, places a casual hand on your knee when you’re sat next to each other. And how you let him do it.

When Santi drops you off at your house, he looks at your lips for a long time. His eyes are burning as he tucks your hair behind your ear and wishes you a good night. But he doesn’t go further.

It’s driving you fucking insane.

You were sure you hadn’t imagined the chemistry between the three of you before, so what was wrong now? Whose starting pistol were they waiting for? You can’t help your desperate huffs of frustration every time you close the door at the end of another night - alone, sopping wet, with only your hand to help.

Until one night, when you really believe, truly believe that it might end differently.

Frankie has been sat next to you in the booth all evening, laughing and chatting away. His arm is slung over your shoulder, his thigh against yours, your body pressed into his side. It feels good, it feels right, and he’s looking at you in such a way that you begin to teeter dangerously close to pressing your lips to his in the middle of the bar.

You and Frankie take the opportunity to talk about anything and everything. Catching up on your jobs, how he’s re-received his licence, your families, future dreams and aspirations. It’s almost funny how perfectly everything seems to realign. You think this is the turning point - this is when you realise how perfect you are for each other, this is when you take the leap. The only hiccup seems to be when Frankie says he’ll be away for the next three weeks - working, and then visiting Lucia. Your heart crumbles a little - just a little - before you try to sweep away thoughts of him dying in a helicopter crash or falling back in love with his ex. It feels like you’ve waited so long for this moment that the universe might just try and be that cruel. Just for shits and giggles.

But it won’t. Everything’s fine. Everything’s great.

Santi seems to notice. He’s quieter than usual, watching the two of you cosy up together. He looks pleased, if a little put out, and when he thinks you aren’t looking he exchanges a look with Frankie. A raised eyebrow, a dipped head. A fucking finally.

As you move to leave the bar at closing time, Frankie touches your arm.

‘Mind if I walk you home, querida?’ He asks, holding out your coat. You take it and swoop it on over your shoulders, grinning at him.

‘Thought you’d never ask.’ You say.

Frankie walks you home like a gentleman.

Too much of a gentleman.

You bump shoulders every so often, but he doesn’t move to take your hand. And he’s all bashful smiles and throaty laughter, compliments and flirty asides, but you return them tenfold, wrapped up in a blinding smile.

You’re making it easy for him. Obvious. But he still isn’t taking the bait.

Maybe he doesn’t want you.

It’s an uncomfortable thought, but it bounces around your skull the whole way home. And it rumbles even louder when you get to your door and he pulls you in for a hug, a light hand barely lingering on your waist, before he wishes you goodnight.

You stand there, a little dazed before your brain catches up and decides to deploy your last ditch attempt. Just to see. Just to find out.

He’s halfway down your front path when you call out to him.

‘Frankie. Do you want to come in?’

He turns, limbs coming to a clumsy halt. His brows are high on his forehead, mouth a little ‘o’. Then he frowns.

Fuck. You’ve never felt like such an idiot in your life.

‘I - er,’ he starts, and you look down at the floor, scuffing the toe of your shoe against the concrete. ‘I have an early start tomorrow.’ He says.

You look back up at him.

‘Sorry,’ he continues, ‘Any other time and I’d be - I’d be right there. Y’know. Just - timing, that’s all.’

You try to soften the bite that wants to creep into your words at his rejection, but barely manage it.

‘It’s cool,’ you say, trying to smile. ‘No worries. I just - I bought that film you said you watched the other day. Paddington 2? The one Lucia likes.’ A slow smile lights his eyes. ‘Just wondered whether you wanted to come in and watch it with a beer. But yeah. No worries,’ and then, because you just can’t help yourself, you add - ‘Wouldn’t have been any funny business, just so ya know.’

You force out a laugh, and Frankie drops his eyes. Disappointed, confused. You feel bad for a second, but then you remember how embarrassed you feel, how stupid. It makes your skin crawl. Nevermind.

You clear your throat.

‘Anyway. Get home safe, Frankie,’ you say, ‘See you soon.’

You rush in and close the door before he can reply.

---

Your phone buzzes with a text early the next day.

You open your eyes with a groan, clutching unseeingly at trinkets on your nightstand until your stomach lurches at the thought that it might be Frankie. You sit up to grab it.

It’s not Frankie. It’s an unknown number.

Hey. Do u want to head to the bar 2night?

You frown, confused, fingers dancing over possible replies before another text flies through.

Got a friend Id like u to meet.

And then another.

Its Santi btw. Cant remember if u have my no.

You breathe out, type a quick sure. Fuck it. What harm could another of Santi’s friends do to your pride? Your sex drive? What harm could a night with Santi do? You follow it up with -

Who else will be there? Are you setting me up?

You chew on your thumb anxiously, waiting for his reply.

Just the 3 of us. Might be ;)

You snort at his reply, shooting back -

God. Am I really such a charity case?

- before getting out of bed to make breakfast. Halfway through your pancakes, you get a text back.

Nah. Just cant stand seein a good girl like u go to waste.

You put your phone back down on the table, slowing your chewing. Good girl. The two words send a lick of heat curling up your spine. A good girl like you going to waste.

A slow, smug smile spreads across your lips. You pick up your phone again and begin to tap out a reply. A risky move, one which would surely harm your chances with Frankie, but fuck it -

If you don’t want me to go to waste, you could always have me to yourself.

You stare at the blinking cursor for a second before deleting the message, instead asking him for a time. No need to be hasty.

You don’t know what his friend looks like yet, anyway.

As it turns out, Santi’s friend might be exactly who you need to forget about Frankie.

Joel Miller is older, in his fifties. Greying, tall, broad, gorgeous, and a true southern gentleman to boot. The kind of guy - you imagine - who would drive you to work the next day if you couldn’t walk after seeing him the night before.

And it’s going well. Really well.

You, Joel, and Santi chat easily around your little table, swapping jokes, telling stories, brushing touches to each other here and there. Joel works in construction - runs his own company with his brother, Tommy - and has a grown up daughter called Sarah. He’s worked on Santi’s house - actually knows most of the group - but is usually too busy (or too tired, he tells you) to come out and join them. You think about how unlucky it is that he hadn’t come around before you made such a fool of yourself last night. And then you vow not to think of Frankie again for the rest of the evening.

Joel is easy to be around - warm, safe - earthy and masculine. And maybe it’s something to do with the way his chocolate brown eyes crinkle at the edges when he smiles, but you don’t know what’s wrong with you. You can’t seem to stop thinking about what it would be like to run your fingers through his curls, feel the scrape of his stubble between your thighs, what his arms look like beneath his flannel, what his fingers - what his cock - would feel like inside of you. Something about the man is making your toes curl in your seat, and he hasn’t done anything more innocuous than thumb the charm hanging from your necklace. It’s agonising.

And to make it worse, Santi knows. You don’t know how, but he does. Maybe you’re just that easy to read.

In the blur of Joel leaving to go to the bathroom and get more drinks, Santi leans over to you.

‘What do you think?’ He asks.

You shrug, trying your absolute hardest to play it cool.

‘He’s nice. I like him. You should bring him out more often.’

Santi’s eyes glint with something molten, something teasing and knowing and sharp.

‘You want to take him home.’

You baulk at his words, cheeks flaming in response. You open and close your mouth as he leans in and laughs.

‘I never said that -’ you splutter, but Santi takes your hand.

‘You don’t need to, querida,’ he says, ‘I can see it written all over your face.’

You groan, forehead falling to his shoulder.

‘If it helps,’ he continues, ‘I think he wants to take you home, too.’

You look up from his shoulder into his eyes, and they glimmer back at you. You bite your lip.

‘Ya think?’ You ask.

‘Yeah, baby,’ he teases, ‘I do.’

You hum against him before tilting your face further back.

‘You know…’ you say, lips loosened by the alcohol. Santi tips his head to the side, waiting for you to continue. ‘'S not quite how I imagined the night would end.’

His lips quirk in a smile again. Ah, fuck.

‘Oh?’

‘Yeah. I kinda thought you’d take me home instead.’

Santi chuckles and looks away around the room. When his eyes settle back on you, they’re black and burning.

‘I’ve thought about it,’ he says, scratching his beard, ‘A lot. But I guessed you were too caught up on Frankie.’

You freeze at his words and sit up straight, clearing your throat.

‘I don’t -’ but Santi shakes his head at you, cutting you off. He says your name softly.

‘I know about last night,’ he says quietly. Your cheeks begin to burn again, but this time for a completely different reason. ‘He told me about it after he walked you home. And I told him he was the biggest fuckin’ idiot I know.’

Despite yourself, you smile.

‘I’m not gonna take you home, baby,’ Santi continues as you watch him, curious, ‘Not right now, anyway. My shit is complicated enough -’ Santi cuts himself off with a sigh, and your brows bunch together.

‘What’s wrong?’ you ask, your voice low and kind despite the fire sparking at his words.

Santi looks at you again, and whatever’s in his eyes looks too complex to divulge. He thumbs your knuckles, swirling patterns onto your hand.

‘Nothing,’ he says, but you frown at him again. ‘Just… stuff. Stuff to do with Frankie. It’s - complicated. I’ll tell you about it some other time. But what I wanted to say was - I wanted you to meet Joel. Because I think you’d be great for each other.’

Your jaw drops again, but before you can ask any questions, anything about his stuff with Frankie, Joel reappears with new drinks for the three of you. Santi gives you a tight-lipped smile, squeezing your hand before picking up his bottle. But you drop his gaze when Joel places a hand at the top of your back as he sits down.

‘Everything okay, baby?’ He asks.

Santi doesn’t leave early, but he doesn’t leave late, either. He stays long enough to know exactly where this thing with you and Joel is going, and then bails when he knows he should. Even if you still kinda wish he’d stay.

Even if you didn’t get the chance to ask him more about Frankie.

You and Joel linger for an hour longer, the ache in your core and the wetness in your underwear in response to him now almost impossible to ignore. Joel keeps a hand on your thigh. He sweeps a palm down your arm, tucks your hair behind your ear. And when the bell for closing rings out, he takes your hand and leads you out into the night.

He keeps a hold of your hand the whole way to your door.

When you get home, you turn to him on your doorstep. He smiles at you, taking you in through his eyelashes. A muscle ticks in his jaw.

You grip your keys tightly in your fist, the metal leaving marks and almost drawing blood as he leans in to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You forget to breathe as his scent crowds your senses, as the scruff of his beard scratches your cheek. You want to lick his neck, find out if he tastes as good as he smells, want to know what it feels like to have him pressed against you, on top of you, under you, behind you -

Joel cuts through your thoughts with a low chuckle against your ear.

‘Breathe, darlin’.’ He murmurs.

You open your eyes, take a deep breath, and sigh a laugh as you look down at your feet.

He is still unbearably close, and you know, you know you shouldn’t, but you don’t know if you’ll ever see this man again, and everything Santi said at the bar, and the fact that you feel like Joel could make you come with just a flick of his wrist is likely what sparks your tongue to stutter out -

‘Do you want to come in?’

Joel looks down at you again, a fire alight in his eyes. The heat sends a shiver down your spine.

He doesn’t give you an answer. Just pushes your front door open, takes your wrist, and pulls you inside.

---

Being with Joel is great.

It’s amazing. It’s like you finally have someone who can keep up with you. Your brain, your days, your plans. It’s like someone plopped Joel Miller on earth with a little note saying he was yours.

In the three weeks after you first meet him, you share countless breakfasts and dinners and spend your weekends wrapped up in sheets watching reruns of Golden Girls. It’s so simple to spend time with someone who is so easy to be around, someone who just gets you.

Joel makes you laugh, makes you feel important, wanted.

And the sex is incredible.

Like nothing you’ve ever had with anyone else. He seems to know what to do, exactly how you want it done, every time - it’s effortless. And somehow, you seem to do the same for him. In fact, the only problems you seem to have found are his size (because he’s huge) and the fact that you can’t be inside each other all the time.

Which is why it takes so much effort for you to peel yourself away from him when Santi asks if you’d like to join him and the guys for drinks on Saturday. You give him an affirmative before promptly being distracted by Joel coming out of the shower.

You see his reply forty minutes later.

Frankie will b there. That OK?

You type back a quick -

Of course :)

- before getting on with your day.

Drinks are almost the same as usual. It’s surprisingly easy to slot right back into where you were. Laughing, chatting, joking with Will and Benny. What they’ve been up to, who they’ve been with. Questions you manage to dodge with only a knowing smirk from Santi to remind you he knows exactly who you’ve been doing.

Frankie joins in from across the table. He couldn’t meet your eye when you first arrived, but over the course of the evening and a few drinks, he seems to have relaxed enough to look at you. Really look at you.

Which is unfortunate, because you can still feel Joel’s come from earlier in the day seeping into your underwear.

At some point in the evening, Benny and Will make their excuses - they have a family get together tomorrow they can’t be too hungover for - and it’s just you, Frankie, and Santi left.

It’s easy for the most part. Santi bridging the gap so effortlessly that it begins to feel like nothing happened between you and Frankie at all. And it didn’t, you remind yourself. Nothing happened. And then you met Joel.

So why are you still thinking about it?

You try to distract yourself, lose yourself in the conversation taking place between the two men. Something about Star Wars, new castings they’ve chosen for a series coming out later in the year. You try to contribute as much as you can, but fail miserably, earning yourself a brief history of the franchise from Santi. Eventually you get him to ease off with a hand to his chest, laughing until he starts to giggle, too. He uses the interlude to get up to use the bathroom and get more drinks, leaving you with Frankie and his soft, brown eyes.

You peer at each other nervously from across the table. You watch as his tongue darts out to wet his lip, as he chews the inside of his cheek before taking a deep breath and meeting your eye.

You feel your jaw clench.

‘About the other night, a few weeks back,’ he says, ‘I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I was a fuckin’ moron -’ he pauses for a moment, sweeps a hand over his face. ‘I’m real rusty at this. The whole dating thing. I don’t think I even realised what it was you were sayin’ to me.’ Frankie huffs a laugh. A horrible, anxious feeling starts to work its way up your throat. ‘But I -’

He’s interrupted as a bartender floats by your booth, sweeping up some of the empty glasses. You smile up at her and thank her sweetly.

Maybe you can stall whatever Frankie has to say.

She swats at the air with her free hand.

‘Not at all, sugar,’ she says, ‘Can’t let a thing like empties get in the way of a date like this.’

You smile at her and bite your tongue, feeling hot. A blush begins to claw up your cheeks as she winks at you both and swings away. Had she not seen Santi? And - fuck - now how do you brush this off with Frankie? How do you stop where this is going?

You turn your eyes back to him, and he hasn’t even flushed at the insinuation. Instead, he bites his lip, something which sends a jolt of heat to the space between your thighs. He scratches the back of his neck, and rushes out in a lowered voice that even though he’s busy with work at the moment, he’d like to make it right -

‘I’d really love to take you out this weekend.’

Your stomach plummets to your feet. Fuck.

Tears of frustration prickle in your eyes. A lump of panic settles in your throat, and you almost feel like you could run out of the bar. Why is he doing this now?

You take a deep breath and try to form the kindest smile, the most apologetic furrow in your brows that you can.

‘Frankie,’ you breathe, and already his face begins to fall. You lean across the table and take one of his massive hands. ‘I’d have loved to, but -’

He shakes his head quickly, trying to draw his hand back.

‘It’s okay,’ he begins, ‘Fuck, I’m sorry. I must have just misread - I didn’t mean - I don’t want you to feel -’

But his interruption only serves to further spark the surge of irritation. You squeeze his hand tighter so he can’t rip it away and utter his name harshly. He stops immediately, his eyes whipping back to yours. Something stirs in you at his immediate obedience.

‘Listen to me,’ you say, shaking off your traitorous thoughts. ‘I’d have loved to. But I - I literally just started seeing someone, and I -’ you break off, groaning in frustration, ‘I don’t know if it’s serious, or if it’s exclusive, but he’s great, and I don’t want anyone - especially you - to get hurt by me being selfish or not knowing where things are at.’ You huff out a breath and meet his eye. He looks disappointed, upset even - but worst of all he looks understanding, almost grateful that you don’t want him to get caught up in this complex knot of wanting.

‘Frankie,’ you say softly, and try to smile, ‘I mean this in the least… damaging way. If you had asked me three weeks ago, when we were here last, I’d have said yes. In a heartbeat.’

Maybe it does make you an asshole. Maybe it does make you selfish. But it feels important in this moment to make sure that Frankie understands - you like him. You wanted him.

It’s just timing.

Frankie grimaces.

‘Fuck.’ He hisses. And when he tries to withdraw his hand this time, you let him. But you don’t look away.

A low light flickers in his eye. Something close to anger, you think - at himself, or at you, you’re not sure.

‘Is it -’ he begins, ‘Is it Pope?’

‘Pope?’ You ask, confused. Frankie shakes his head.

‘Santi. Is it Santi?’

You bark a laugh. You can’t help it.

‘Santi? Your Santi?’ you ask, bewildered. Frankie’s cheeks heat again. You want to put a pin in that, the flush at your, but your brain is suddenly so riddled with dredged up questions you can hardly order them.

‘What do you mean, Frankie?’ you ask, exasperated.

Frankie shakes his head again, realising his mistake, but you are beyond dropping the topic.

‘Frankie,’ you say, stern this time. ‘What do you mean?’

Frankie whips his cap off, runs an agitated hand through his hair, shifts his gaze around the bar for the other man.

‘He - he likes you, too,’ he says. ‘I was worried - worried he’d beat me to it ‘cos I didn’t ask before I went away. He said it was taking me too long to do - to gather the confidence to ask you -’ Now Frankie barks a laugh. ‘But it looks like we were both too late.’

You shake your head, the cogs in your brain turning slowly. How Santi looked at you was no secret. But if what Frankie was saying about how Santi felt was true, why had he introduced you to Joel? And if that was true, had you misunderstood what Santi said about him and Frankie? You feel your mouth open and close, but Frankie takes your silence to ask you another question.

‘Who is it?’

‘What?’

‘Who is it?’

You splutter over your answer, hesitating, stalling -

‘Frankie, how the fuck would you know?’

Because he would. And, rightly or wrongly, that panics you a little.

‘Is it someo-’

You cut him off, holding up your palm.

‘Frankie -’ you press a hand to your throat, feeling your rapid pulse. Fuck it. ‘I thought - I thought Santi was interested in you.’

Frankie chokes on his breath.

He stares at you, calculating something, breathing heavily.

‘It’s not - we’re not -’ he fumbles. You slouch back in your seat. Frankie’s eyes flutter closed. ‘We fuck around sometimes. And sometimes - sometimes other people -’ You groan, your head tipping back against the leather. Your head is spinning. ‘But we wouldn’t - I wouldn’t - fuck. I don’t want you to think that that’s what this is about -’ Frankie splays his hands in front of you. ‘God,’ he says, ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know how to explain any of this.’

The room suddenly feels too warm. You cradle your head in your hands, and stare at the way the table swims beneath you. What the fuck is happening?

You glance up at Frankie, but he’s watching you so intensely, so much concern and panic and want in his eyes that it makes you feel claustrophobic.

‘I need some air.’ You mumble across the table, and stumble out of the booth on unsteady legs. From the corner of your eye, you see Santi begin to cross the floor to return to the booth with drinks in his hands, see him watch you trip across the bar. In the back of your brain, you hear him call your name, but your hands are already on the handle of the front door, pushing it open and feeling the cool night air hit your clammy skin.

What the fuck is going on?

You fumble in your pocket for your phone and find Joel’s contact. You want to go home, and you want his help to forget about this. And, you think, you should probably ask whether he had any idea about Santi, or Frankie, or Santi and Frankie.

The call with Joel is quick, and he sounds appropriately concerned without needing to hear any details. He tells you to stay in view of the bar and to not move a muscle, and that he’ll be there in 10. You hope he can make it in five.

He’s too slow. After seven minutes, Frankie bursts out of the bar, Santi quickly following him.

‘Fish -’ Santi’s calling, but he catches himself when he sees you still standing there. Frankie screeches to a halt, too.

The three of you stare between each other, eyes wide, like you’re waiting for a bomb to go off.

Frankie says your name before you shake your head - rushing out a not now, Frankie just as Joel’s pickup peels into the parking lot.

Frankie can’t see him with his back turned, but he sure does when Joel comes striding from behind the two men to stand at your side.

‘Everything okay, baby?’ he asks in his low, southern drawl, and you instinctively lift your mouth for a kiss before realising how cruel that would be.

Joel tenses as you withdraw, finally taking in the other two men.

‘Pope,’ he says with a nod, and Santi smiles weakly back at him.

‘Frankie,’ Joel says a little softer, ‘It’s good to see you.’

‘Joel.’ Frankie says through his teeth, realisation burning in his eyes.

‘How ya doin’, kid?’ Joel asks him, placing a hand on your lower back. Frankie juts out his chin.

‘Fine. Great.’ He says, ‘I was just leavin’, actually.’ Frankie whips his cap off, runs a hand through his hair. His jaw is set, angry. He shakes his head at the ground. ‘I’ll see you guys around.’ He says to no one in particular, turning on his heel and fleeing towards the car park.

Santi and Joel meet each others’ eyes in some kind of understanding, and you look angrily between them. Being left out of the loop again was not feeling cute.

Joel sighs, wrapping his arm around your waist.

‘Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you home.’ He murmurs, but you lurch out of his grasp and turn on the two of them. They watch you, surprised.

‘No,’ you say, ‘Nu-uh. We aren’t going anywhere until one of you tells me what the fuck is going on.’

Joel and Santi look at each other, expressions unreadable.

Santi shakes his head.

‘Come back inside,’ he says, turning back to the bar entrance, ‘We’re gonna need more beers for this.’

---

When you get down to the root of it, the truth isn’t even that complex. That’s the laughable part.

The long and short of it is this. One: Pope knew Frankie liked you. But he knew Frankie moved slow. And he’d gotten tired of watching, of knowing he’d be a dick if he made a play instead. And he cares about you, his friend. Wants to see you happy. Enter Joel. Two: Santi and Frankie fooled around while they were in Delta Force. It’s not a secret, but it’s never really been discussed. Sometimes they still fool around, but it’s been less frequent as they’ve gotten older. As they date other people. Three: Sometimes, when those other people they’re dating are willing, they bring them in, and they all have fun together.

Something Santi would have been fine with if you were his. Something Frankie was less cool with doing if he’d made his move.

Santi admits that he’s likely just been a dick throughout the whole thing. You make him promise to do better over another beer. He does. He also now knows not to cock block his best buddy with a mutual friend.

And Joel feels kinda bad about that. Not bad enough to pump the brakes with you, but uncomfortable, sure. He’s had Frankie round for barbecues, he likes the guy. He’s sorry he whisked you away from him. But not sorry enough.

Joel hasn’t been involved in any of Frankie and Santi’s adventures, but it’s something he’s played around with before. He’s had threesomes, but he doesn’t really volunteer more than that. The thought ignites something deep in your belly and you file it away for another day, a different conversation.

Once it’s all explained and you’re laughing together again, everything feels fine. Normal.

Except you don’t see Frankie for weeks afterwards.

You drop him a text every now and again, just wanting to know whether he’s okay, but you hear nothing back. Santi tries to assure you that you’ve done nothing wrong. There’s nothing for you to worry about.

But it still sits uneasy in your gut.

You see Joel almost every day. And Santi once a week.

The three of you meet for beers in a different bar from the one Santi meets Frankie, Will and Benny in - your bar. And you have fun.

It never goes beyond touches with Santi, though you find yourself wishing more and more often that it would. He rests a hand on your thigh under the table, his thumb swiping patterns over your flushed skin. Sometimes he has an arm flung around the back of your seat, sometimes rubbing the back of your neck, sometimes tucking hair behind your ear. He watches and stares and smiles and laughs at you and Joel, and you watch back with delighted curiosity. You like the way he makes you squirm while you sit next to the older man. And Joel loves to watch you squirm, too.

He loves getting you home and finding your panties soaked with arousal. He loves swiping two of his thick fingers through your folds with the front door barely closed, his hand shoved down the front of your jeans, your back arched already, a needy whine heavy in the back of your throat. He loves talking you through the things he’d like to watch Santi do to you, how good he knows you’d be for the two of them, how well behaved, how you’d take, take, take it, and how proud he’d be to show you off. My girl. He growls as he fucks into you at night. My girl.

And it suits you, how giving, how generous Joel is.

Seems to suit Santi, too.

At some point ideas had been swapped between you and Joel - some thinly disguised remark dropped by him over dinner one night had led to you picking at the thread and grinding him down over three days, trying to get to the bottom of it. He liked to share, he’d said. He liked to watch. He liked the control, and the pride, and the possession of it all. And goddammit, you liked the sound of it, too. Because after serious discussion - serious boundaries, limits, run throughs of possible scenarios, you talked through people who you wouldn’t mind trying it with.

And there was obvious one name you both settled on.

Santi.

And well, given his history, it didn’t take too long for you to convince him to join you.

And if it hadn't been for Santi’s suggestion, his knowledge, his understanding of his best friend, there’s a chance Frankie’s name wouldn’t have come up at all. You’re not sure if you’d have dared, considering how things were left. But, lo and behold, it does, and along with it the chance for him to see exactly what he's missing out on.

---

All the rules have been arranged for tonight, but the most important one, which you must remember, is that Frankie is not allowed to touch you.

At all. At any point.

You and Joel head to the usual bar to meet Santi and Frankie for drinks. You make sure to wear a dress which clings to your curves, dips at your cleavage, and settles just high enough on your thigh to be bordering on acceptable. And it must be more than acceptable, because Joel threatens to fuck you out of it three times before you leave the house.

It must be acceptable, because Santi cannot keep his eyes or his hands off you when you arrive at the venue, and Frankie from across the table cannot regain control of his jaw.

They both look good - you all look good - Joel with his hair combed back, a deep green flannel on, Santi in all black - and suddenly all you want to do is call the drinks off now and just head back to Joel’s. But the patience, the build up is critical. It’s foreplay.

Instead, you lean back in your chair, sipping on your cocktail as you take in the three men.

The conversation flows easily after a while. Joel is a master at it, weaving questions in and out, making sure to put both you and Frankie at ease. Besides, it’s been a while since you last saw each other. Not that either of you were any less eager for him to be involved. He’d been very keen, according to Santi.

He’s in dark jeans and a tight navy blue t-shirt tonight, his trademark cap confining his curls. He’s not dressed up, but he’s made an effort, and his shy looks across the table, his kind questions and easy jokes have begun healing the fractures of what happened weeks ago.

It doesn’t hurt that he and Santi had a good, long talk, and that you then shared a sweet phone call.

All the same, he sits opposite you, unable to touch you for the rest of the night.

Instead, he just gets to watch as Joel presses kisses to your neck, pulls you into his chest, skates his hands over your thighs - anything he can get away with doing to turn you on. And Santi isn’t far behind. Holding your hand on top of the table, bringing your knuckles to his lips, keeping a hand on your knee almost the entire time.

Your brain is a hot, buzzing mess by the time Santi checks his phone.

‘It’s getting late.’ He says, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

‘Eager, no?’ You tease, trying - and failing - to cover the scent of your own desperate need.

‘Of course,’ Santi smirks over the rim of his glass, ‘But I’ll take my time with you.’

You try to laugh but fall back into Joel’s shoulder at his words, and the older man chuckles. He kisses your forehead tenderly. Frankie watches hungrily from across the table, the dark void of his eyes flicking towards his watch, desperate to leave.

When you do, he walks at a distance behind the three of you. You smile to yourself and sway your hips a little more for his benefit. And you swear you get a low whine as your reward.

---

You’re quiet the whole way home, trying not to clench your thighs too hard or rock yourself against the seat. You're so desperate for friction, for relief, that it’s hard for you to concentrate on what’s going on in the car. Hard for you to think of anything beyond Joel’s warm, heavy hand on your thigh as he drives.

He leans over to you halfway home, and whispers -

‘You’re quiet, baby. Everything okay?’

You flick a glance to him and find his eyes equal parts concerned and equal parts aflame. You smile.

‘I’m trying to be good,’ you murmur, ‘But you’re making it very difficult.’

Joel dips his chin in a smirk and squeezes your thigh, his fingers drifting dangerously close to your panties. You squirm a little in your seat, and it goads him to drift his hand further until it catches at the lace of the gusset. You gasp at the feeling, a tiny whimper making its way out from your lips, and all conversation in the back of the truck grinds to a halt. Your cheeks heat, and you turn to look out the window again, clamping your lip beneath your teeth.

No one says a word the rest of the way home.

Once you're all home, a silence settles around you. Everybody wide eyed, geared up, on edge. You’re not sure who to look at or what to say until Joel does it for you.

‘Upstairs.’ He commands, and everybody moves to follow him up the staircase. You keep your eyes on his broad back the whole way up, and once you reach the top, he holds his hand out behind him for you to grab. You do.

When you get to his bedroom door, Joel leads you in. You turn just as Santi crosses the threshold, as he pivots to Frankie behind him and says -

‘Kneel.’

Frankie glances at you, swallows, and returns his eyes to Santi. He drops down to his knees in the hallway.

‘Good,’ Santi murmurs, stepping forward to crouch down in front of him. ‘Do you remember the rules?’ He asks Frankie.

The younger man nods, his eyes dropping to the floor.

‘Yes.’

Santi nods once.

‘Good. Listen. And do not leave this spot.’

Santi straightens, turning his back on Frankie. You can’t tear your eyes away from the sight of him on the floor - small, submissive - and you can’t help the little gasp you let out as Santi steps towards you and closes the door slowly behind him, leaving just enough of a gap so that Frankie can hear everything that happens but watch none of it.

Joel skirts his fingers down your waist and presses a kiss just under your ear.

‘You ready, baby girl?’ he rumbles. You turn your face to look at him over your shoulder, finding his eyes dark, a familiar power behind them. You nod.

‘Yes.’ you say. He nods, pleased, twisting to kiss your mouth before guiding you towards Santi.

‘Good,’ he says. He turns and moves towards the armchair in the far corner of the room, sitting heavily in it.

Santi steps towards you and gently takes your face in his hands.

‘You okay?’ He asks quietly. You nod.

‘Yeah,’ you whisper, ‘Are you?’

Santi nods, his eyes searching yours for a hint of hesitation. You try to open up your mind to show him the excitement, the want you feel. Satisfied, he licks his lips.

‘Can I kiss you?’ He asks. You nod again, and Santi leans forwards, capturing your mouth in hard, slow movement.

Santi means to make a study of you, you think. His tongue is everywhere, his teeth grazing over your bottom lip, his hands gentle and then needy, already figuring out exactly what it is that makes you tick. And to make it even worse, every time you take a moment to catch your breath, he has that fucking smirk on his face. It’s infuriating, and you quickly need to find something which will wipe it off.

So you begin to undo his belt.

Pope huffs a chuckle against your lips, but doesn’t stop the work your hands are doing. Instead, he matches it with his own fingers.

With deft movements, he slips a hand under your dress and finds his way to your panties, touching you through the fabric. You groan against his mouth, and he smiles, ghosting over your folds. Not to be out done, you slip your hand into his jeans and palm him over his boxers. He hums against you.

‘Are we racing?’ He asks.

You cock your head to the side.

‘Thought you wanted to take your time?’ You quip back, and something flashes in his eyes.

He steps back.

‘Take this off.’ He says, tugging at the hem of your dress, and you pout at him.

‘Does that mean you take these off, too?’ You ask, tugging at his jeans. You’re pushing your luck, you know. But you think this might be easier if Santi undresses with you, if only to really see what you held in your hand.

Santi raises an eyebrow. ‘We’ll see,’ he says, ‘But you go first.’

You step back from him and glance at Joel, assessing. He nods at you, encouraging, and you pull your dress up and over your head. You stand before them in only your panties, and Santi takes a deep breath, biting his lip, smiling again.

‘Gorgeous, baby.’ He says. And you feel it. The way this man looks at you makes you feel weak, giddy - like your core is on fire.

Santi steps towards you to kiss you again, making sure his hand returns to where it had been, ghosting over your underwear. You groan into his mouth, impatient now, and his teeth scrape at your chin as he clicks his tongue. In answer, he sweeps your panties to the side, and grazes two digits along your slit. You moan loudly again, and Santi groans up at the ceiling.

‘Fuck, querida.’ He says, before stretching a thumb to your clit and sinking the two fingers deep inside you. You stumble against him as he begins to work you, breathing heavily against his clothed chest. You turn your face so your teeth can nip at his skin underneath.

‘Take - this - off.’ You hiss, and he laughs, slipping his fingers out of you with a groan to oblige. Santi removes his t-shirt quickly and chucks it somewhere across the room before pushing his jeans down and stepping out of them. He hurries to find purchase within your body once more, rocking you against him, curling his fingers deep inside you. His tongue returns to your mouth and you remember his hard cock in his boxers. You reach for it, but he blocks you with his arm. You whine.

‘Tan mojada ya, baby.’ He drawls. Santi removes his fingers from where they were curling inside of you and brings them to your mouth, tapping your lips. You open for him, and he presses them in, allowing you to swirl your tongue over them. You clean off the scent of your heady arousal as Santi watches you. He presses them hard, once, against your tongue, and you open your mouth wide for him.

He retracts his fingers.

‘Good girl,’ he murmurs, and it goes straight to your cunt. You whimper a little, and he grins, stepping back and out of his boxers. ‘Take those off for me.’ He says, motioning at your soaked panties. You almost trip in your eagerness to do so. He retreats backwards until his calves hit the mattress, and he sits down before laying back, getting comfortable.

Santi watches you from the bed, laid out on his back. His lips curl as you rake your eyes over him - hands folded behind his head, his biceps rounding by his ears, his firm, strong torso spattered with dark hair, and his long, hard cock, bobbing and drooling as he takes you in.

‘Come here.’ He says.

You begin a slow walk to the bed, hesitating only for a moment as you crawl onto it and towards him. He licks his lips as you come closer, and you bite your lip back.

You feel unsure without being given specific direction, but you know that Joel will put you right if you step a toe out of line. So you place a knee on either side of Santi’s hips, and sink your heat down onto him as he pulls you forward by the back of your neck, searching for your lips.

You start to move, to adjust to try and let him inside, before Joel’s voice cracks like a whip out of the corner.

‘Either of us tell you you could fuck him yet?’ He growls.

You try to draw your mouth away from Santi to give your response, but he clamps your bottom lip between his teeth so you can go no further. You whimper and shake your head.

‘So put your fuckin’ hips back down. Y’ain’t earned it yet.’

Santi lets your lip go and flops back against the sheets with a shit-eating grin. You lower your hips again and place both your palms on his stomach, pushing your tits together. He eyes them greedily, reaching out and flicking a thumb over each nipple. You feel your pout grow, your brows drawn tight together and your bottom lip swollen, jutting out almost comically. Santi catches a glimpse of your face, and puffs out a laugh.

‘Poor baby,’ he coos, ‘Just wanna get fucked, don’t ya?’ You nod pathetically, but don’t dare move. He is achingly hard beneath you, his thick length resting perfectly between your folds. Santi lowers his hands from your nipples until he has them on your hips, and like he’s read your fucking mind, he begins to rock you back and forth.

A wanton, needy moan drools out of your mouth as your pussy wets him, fresh slick leaking out of your clenching hole. You wonder how much of this Frankie can hear.

Santi groans beneath you, watching the head of his cock disappear under you every time he slides you forwards. The pressure of him just against your lips is heady, and you watch as he guides you forwards just a little more, urges you to lean a little further forward until your clit catches on the head of his cock on every slide. You throw your head back, your fingers scratching at his torso, and he watches you. He whispers that you look so pretty like this, how he can feel you, look at how wet you’re making my cock, baby, can feel you twitchin’ on me already, angel. He guides you back and forth until you feel a heavy pressure begin to settle in your pussy, a burning beginning deep in your gut. Your moans become more frantic as you begin to plead with him, though you’re not sure what for.

‘Use your words, baby,’ Joel reminds you from his seat. ‘Ask Santi. Tell him what you need.’

You release a hot breath of air, biting your lip.

‘Gonna come, Santi,’ you tell him breathlessly, ‘Need to stop. Gonna come.’

But Santi just smiles sweetly up at you, his eyes heavy lidded. You pussy twitches, the knot pulling tighter. He reaches up with one hand and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

‘Why would I want you to stop, angel?’ He asks. You shake your head. You don’t know. ‘Talk to me, baby.’ He prompts.

‘I don’t know. Haven’t been - fuck - told -’ you whimper. He nods, swallows harshly.

‘I want you to come,’ he tells you, ‘I want you to come now, and then I’m going to make you come again, and then as many more times as I see fit, do you understand?’

You groan and nod.

‘Yes, Santi.’

‘Good girl,’ he says. ‘And when I’m done with you, I’m gonna give you back to your daddy, and he’s gonna make you come as many times as he sees fit, too. Okay, baby?’

You clench around nothing, painfully, moving faster over Santi’s cock of your own accord.

‘Fuck. Yes, Santi.’

Santi settles his head back against the bed again, running his hands all over your body, anywhere he can touch you.

‘Go on, baby,’ he says, ‘Use me.’

Fuck, you groan out, tilting your hips to allow your clit to scrape down the underside of his cock at every pass. Without thinking, you lean so far forward that you plant a hand around the base of Santi’s throat to keep yourself upright, tightening your fingers over his pulse point. He lets out a strangled moan, his eyes fluttering closed, and you feel the pressure in your core build heavier and heavier until the white hot heat snaps. You throw your head back, coming with gasps of his name and loud moans, still rocking yourself back and forth, still squeezing over his neck.

Your vision is fuzzy and your breathing still feverish when Santi grabs at your fingers and pries them away from him. You flush at your carelessness, an Imsosorry rushing out as you stare at your hand in his. He shushes you tenderly, breathing deeply.

‘S’okay, baby,’ he says, ‘I like it. Don’t have a problem with it.’ He squeezes your hand, and then fixes you with a wicked, cruel look. ‘Just don’t wanna come yet, that’s all. Only so much a man can stand when I can feel you falling apart on top of me.’

You flush even deeper, leaning forward to bury your face in his neck, laving hot, open mouthed kisses along the hard muscle there. He groans and chuckles against you, kneading your ass.

‘Want me to fuck you now, baby?’ He murmurs into your ear.

You whine against him, lick across his jaw.

‘Yes, Santi,’ you groan. ‘Please fuck me.’

Santi grips the hair at the base of your neck to pull you away from him, and you let yourself be led. He slides you off him, and rests on his knees before you. Your eyes dip hungrily to his bobbing cock, shining with your come, tip an angry red, precum dripping down its length. It twitches under your gaze, and you lick your lips.

Santi chuckles again, his hand still buried in your hair.

‘Dirty fuckin’ girl.’ He murmurs as he manipulates your body. ‘Turn around,’ he says, ‘Hands and knees, baby.’ You follow his directions, turning on the bed towards Joel before planting your limbs and curving your spine, angling your ass in the air. You’re not sure where you should look until Santi releases your hair and leans over your back, a hand on your hip.

‘Look at your daddy,’ he says into your ear, gripping your chin softly to angle your head. You look at Joel through heavy lidded eyes, only to find his are similar. ‘Keep your eyes on him.’

Joel is still fully dressed in the chair, head heavy against the back of it. His legs are spread wide, a hand on either arm, fingers spread and clenched slightly against the fabric. His jaw is tense, and you can see how his jeans strain over his cock - fully hard by the looks of it. You moan into the sheets as you watch him watch you. Santi kneels behind you, running his hands over your soft skin, as he dips two fingers through your folds, swearing softly.

‘She’s so wet, Joel.’ He whispers, and Joel’s eyes leave yours momentarily to see Santi hold his fingers up to the light, coated in slick. Joel’s hips move slightly, bucking into nothing, and he barely manages to grunt out a response. You wonder again how much of this Frankie can hear behind the door, whether he’s straining in his jeans just as Joel is, whether his ear is pressed against the crack just so he can hear what Santi is whispering to you both.

Pope grips one of your hips, and uses his other hand to line himself up at your entrance. He uses his tip to spread your slick around a little more until you whine again, fisting the sheets.

‘Please, Santi, please -’

And he needs no more encouragement, sinking all the way in on the first thrust. You cry out into the mattress, your sounds coming out choked, overwhelmed as he sets a relentless pace.

‘Fuck, baby,’ he hisses out behind you, neither of you able to get more words out.

You quickly lose yourself to the feel of him pumping in and out, every part of you wound up tight, hot. You can feel yourself squeezing him already, making his hips stutter. Joel notices, too. You wonder whether he remembers Frankie is outside, as well, because he manages to force out in a low grumble -

‘How does she feel?’

Santi gathers your hair up in a fist, bringing your face up from the sheets just so they can hear you better. He grits his teeth, tries to stutter out his answer -

‘So - fucking - good -’ and at this, a delicious smile sweeps across Joel’s face. He’s proud. You moan even louder and manage to garble out a daddy, which makes him positively grin.

‘Atta girl, baby,’ he says to you, before turning back to Santi, ‘Just good?’

You and Santi both hear the prod in his words, and it shoots another thrill through you to remember just how much control Joel has; how he wants him to tell him what he already knows, to prove that his worth.

‘Not just good,’ Santi groans, ‘Fuckin’ perfect. So tight. So warm. She’s clenchin’ me already, makin’ me feel like a fuckin’ teenager,’ he laughs around a puff of air, before leaning back into you. ‘Tómatelo con calma, hermosa - quiero que esto dure.’ You moan again at his words, as they spark the opposite of their desired effect.

‘Shit,’ Santi chuckles out, ‘God, Joel. Pussy like I’ve never felt. And so responsive, too.’ To prove his point Santi lands a firm smack on your ass and you yelp, pulsing around him, biting your lip. He moans behind you. ‘Don’t know how you ever get anything done,’ he bites out, ‘I’d never be able to leave her alone.’

You glow under Santi’s praise and Joel’s warming stare, and push yourself up loosely onto your elbows as Santi returns both of his hands to your hips. You push back against him, meeting him thrust for thrust.

‘Jesus Christ,’ Santi gasps, before reaching around you to rub desperately at your clit. Your moans bounce off the walls, sharp gasps and whines melting into begging -

‘Please, Santi - fuck - oh my god, oh my god, please - ‘m so close. So close -’

‘Gonna come again, baby?’ He coos from above you. You nod furiously.

‘Yes,’ you gasp out, ‘God, please Santi, fuckin’ me so good -’

With a grunt, Santi hauls you upwards so your back is flush against his chest. He fucks into you harshly, fingers still working your clit, his other hand pinching and twisting a nipple as he kisses and bites his way along your neck, you shoulder, below your ear.

‘Good girl,’ he says, and your head dips back onto his shoulder, mouth open in a sob because he feels so good -

Santi grips your chin again, yanking your face down and towards Joel.

‘Look at your daddy,’ he snaps at you, ‘You look at your daddy when you come for me.’

And you do. You can barely keep your eyes open as your body gives out, loud, broken moans escaping your mouth, Santi and daddy alternating somewhere in there as Santi fucks you through it, fingers still on your clit as he sinks his teeth into your shoulder -

‘Good - fucking - girl.’

And you see even Joel’s eyes close momentarily, his hands clenching to fists on the arms of the chair, a growl of desperation only you can hear tumbling out of his chest.

Santi is relentless as he chases his own release, but you’re so tight around him that he refocuses his efforts.

‘Again, baby,’ he orders, ‘Give me another. I can feel it. Come on. It’s right there. You gotta give it to me, hermosa -’

But you whine against him, twitching, trembling, sobbing through the overstimulation, unsure where the boundary between pleasure and pain is. You shake your head, try to catch your breath.

‘Too much, Santi, too much,’ you cry, ‘Can’t - don’t know -’

‘You can, baby,’ he breathes, voice like steel, and you whimper. That tone so similar to Joel’s, how he knows, how now Santi knows, that you can.

At his insistence, you tumble off the cliff again, weakly calling his name as a gush of arousal spills onto his lap, as you pulse and contract around his cock. He releases a strangled groan, his hips stuttering, his breathing heavy. He peers over your shoulder at Joel.

‘Where do you want it?’ he gasps.

‘Inside her.’ Joel growls, and you moan again as Santi sheathes himself to the hilt and comes and comes and comes. You feel him fill you, his dick pulsing and twitching deep in your pussy, and he sags as he begins to leak out. You both hit the mattress, Santi just about propping himself up on his elbows so he doesn’t crush you. You both breathe heavily for a second, until he moves your hair from your face and touches your cheek.

‘You okay?’ he rasps, throat dry. You chuckle breathily.

‘Yes.’ You sigh. Santi licks his lips and laughs quietly, too, shifting gently to slip out of you. You both groan, trying to catch your breath again. Your limbs are liquid, your body heavy, and somewhere in your dazed state you feel him dip a kiss to your shoulder blade before using his tongue to soothe the bite mark he’d left earlier.

You turn your face towards him as you feel his weight leave the bed. He smiles at you, muttering something about getting himself cleaned up before gesturing to the opposite way you're facing. You turn your head to find Joel, pulled to his full height, standing at the foot of the bed, still fully fucking clothed.

You slowly rise to your knees on the mattress, and Joel smiles at you, lifting a hand to settle against your cheek. You lean into it, turning your head to kiss his palm.

‘You okay, baby?’ he asks softly.

‘Yes, daddy.’ You breathe.

He nods, pleased.

‘Good. On your knees, on the floor for me, baby girl.’ He says.

You pull your languid limbs off the bed and settle on your knees on the floor, waiting patiently for him. You rest your palms on top of your thighs, tingling and relaxed, and wait for your instruction. It comes before Santi even leaves the bathroom.

‘Mouth.’ Joel says, and you shuffle forward towards him, hungry hands grappling with his belt as he chuckles down at you. ‘My eager girl.’ And you shine a blinding smile up at him.

You whip his belt off, launch it across the room, and make quick work of the button and zipper, pulling his jeans down his thighs so just his boxers are left. You lick your teeth at the sight of his barely contained cock, the front of his underwear stretched, the tip of his dick peeking from above his waistband, leaking and swollen. You rise up on your knees as you reach for the band, lifting your eyes to Joel’s as you pull his underwear down, smiling again as one of his big hands comes to rest at the back of your head, impatient already.

His boxers and jeans pulled down, you take Joel into your hand, pumping him gently before pulling the tip to your mouth, blowing on it lightly before pressing a kiss to the weeping slit. Joel sucks a breath in through his teeth, and presses his hips forward, sinking his cock past your lips. You take him gratefully, opening as wide as you can, your tongue soft and firm against him, tracing and twirling as you hollow your cheeks.

‘So good t’me.’ Joel breathes out, pushing a little further, just to hit the back of your throat and hear you choke lightly. You moan around his length, your eyelids flickering shut as he begins to fuck your throat slowly, making sure to feel every inch you allow him access to.

Santi emerges from the bathroom, and he can’t help but grin as he takes in the sight of you on your knees before Joel, swiping a hand over his mouth to try and hide his mirth. You flutter your eyelashes at him, and he shakes his head before crossing the room to sit in the chair Joel was in before. He crosses an ankle over his knee, leaning back to watch you both.

You hum around Joel and begin to bob up and down his length, using your fist to pump what you don’t have the patience to take in your mouth. Joel tangles his fingers in your hair and groans as he feels your tongue dip into his slit, slip over the sensitive spot on the underside of his head.

‘Fuckin’ hell,’ he grunts, ‘Putting on a show for Santi, are we?’

You smile wickedly around his cock, before taking him all the way to the base on your own. You hold your head there as long as possible as Joel chokes out moan after moan, and from behind you Santi mumbles -

‘Fuck, Joel. She’s leaking all over the floor.’

Joel huffs out a breath, pulling you off his cock. He peers down at you, eyes dark.

‘Are you, baby?’ He asks.

You wiggle your ass to feel what even you hadn’t noticed, too caught up in sucking his dick. A small puddle of you and Santi has been dripping down onto the hardwood where you kneel. More slick pulses out of you at the realisation.

‘Yes, daddy,' you sigh, and Joel’s eyes roll up into his head. He yanks your hair roughly to bring you to your feet.

‘Get up,’ he snarls, ‘And get on the bed.’

Joel all but throws you back on to the mattress, and it happens in such a rush that you wonder if you’ve done something wrong. You wrack your brain as Joel undresses before you, his eyes scouring your body, taking in the marks, the bruises already forming, how your hair is wet with sweat at the roots, how your pussy still drips onto the sheets -

And then you get it. Joel is getting off on it - on the thought of you being full, used, wanted, shown off -

Once he is down to just his skin, he crawls over you, lifting and pushing your hips to move you up the bed. He dips his head to lick and kiss and bite at your neck, and your hands flutter around him, touching him everywhere. His back, his arms, his neck, his face, scraping your nails down his exposed skin. He makes his way to your mouth, devouring you - all tongue and teeth until he rears back to look at you, sprawled and gorgeous below him.

‘So beautiful, baby,’ he groans, ‘So perfect like this. Open your mouth for me.’ You do as he says, flattening your tongue out against your lower lip for good measure. He groans again, and then leans forward to spit in your mouth. You swallow it down hungrily.

‘Thank you, daddy.’ You say, and he leans back down to kiss you again before retracing down your neck, your collarbones, your breasts -

‘Such a good girl, rememberin’ your manners,’ he grumbles, ‘So good, takin’ Santi, look so good when you’re takin’ his cock.’ You whimper as he bites down on each of your nipples, soothing them with open-mouthed kisses. He kisses down your stomach, around your heat, nipping the inside of your thighs, making sure to leave marks, breathing hotly onto your skin.

‘But now you’ve made a mess, baby, haven’t you?’ He says. You mewl at the ceiling, clutching the sheets around you as Joel blows on your clit, hovering just above where you need him. ‘Words, baby.’ He reminds you, with a sharp slap to your thigh.

‘Yes, daddy.’ You cry.

‘And what do we do when we make a mess?’ He asks.

‘Clean it up, daddy.’ You pant.

‘Good girl,’ he coos, ‘Good girl.’ Before he licks a fat, hot stripe from your leaking hole up to your clit.

You gasp at the sensation, your back arching off the bed, the coil in your stomach already wound impossible tight, every part of your body still so sensitive. Joel works with abandon at your pussy, flattening his tongue to lap at you, tasting the mixture of you and Santi, slurping around your opening before focusing his efforts on your bundle of nerves, sharpening his tongue to work it in tight circles, then figure eights. Your hips buck strongly against him, and he secures a forearm against your lower belly to stop you struggling. He hums against you as your hand winds its way into his curls, scratching lightly at his scalp.

‘Daddy, daddy, daddy, so good - fuck - so good - tongue feels so good, baby -’ You babble to him, to yourself, and Joel lowers his mouth, working his tongue inside you, grinding his nose against your clit. Your shoulders shoot off the bed, and you pull his hair now, biting a curse between your teeth. Joel doesn’t let up for a second, just moves his forearm so he can force your upper body back down onto the bed. Your fingers loosen their grip on his hair, coming up instead to scrub at your face as moan after moan escapes you.

A groan echoes from the chair, and you flick your gaze behind you to see Santi watching greedily, palming himself through his boxers. The sight only serves to work you up more, your core tightening and tightening and tightening, an unbearable heat settling where Joel’s tongue is, but you need him deeper -

‘You close, baby?’ He mumbles against you.

‘Y-es.’ You force out, as he pinches your clit between his lips.

‘What do you need?’ He asks.

‘Fuck - your fingers, Joel, please -’

Joel obliges, slipping one, and then two digits into your cunt easily, fucking them in and out as he licks again at your nub, swirling and sucking and lapping -

‘Come on, baby,’ he groans, ‘Give me what I want.’

The forearm he has braced against your middle barely keeps your back on the bed as you come, hard and loud against his tongue. Your whole body twitches, so warm, as he laps and laps and laps at you, as you beg him to stop, to let you breathe for just a second - but he doesn’t, he never does, just eats until he’s had his fill, until he’s satisfied.

When he lifts his head from between your thighs, his beard and cheeks are glistening with your come. He releases his grip on you and begins to crawl upwards again, and you clamp your thighs shut to stop him from provoking anymore overstimulation. He laughs down at you, kneeling back to yank your legs back open with his strong hands.

‘We’re not done with you, yet, baby,’ he coos, ‘I ain’t had all my fun.’

You shake your head at him, pitiful, your lower lip jutting out. He pouts back at you.

‘You don’t want daddy’s cock, darlin’?’ He asks. You can’t even find it in you to hesitate.

‘I do,’ you cry, ‘Just don’t wanna be touched anymore.’

Joel nods at your words, strokes your cheek, kisses your forehead.

‘It’s okay, baby girl,’ he murmurs, ‘I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to. Won’t make you come again if you don’t want to.’ Liar. He knows just as well as you do what his cock does to you. But still, he pauses, makes sure you’re looking at him. ‘Can I still have this pussy, angel?’

You blink up at him. Something warm curls in your stomach. Relief, you think, that he’s heard you, understands - that you know - even with Santi and Frankie here - you could stop this at any time.

‘Yes, daddy.’ You say.

He smiles, wraps you up in a tender kiss.

‘Thank you, sweetheart.’ He murmurs as he lines himself up at your entrance, and begins to sink in.

Joel tugs at the backs of your thighs, hitching them to your chest so he can watch as he splits you open. His eyes flick from your cunt to your face, the glistening slit stretching to accommodate him and the way your jaw falls loose in a silent ‘o’, your brows brunched, your eyes rolling and falling shut. The slip of him is sinful tonight - your orgasms leaving your body like jelly, Santi’s cock preparing you for Joel’s thickness. But he still moves toe-curlingly slow, inch after inch after inch providing a delicious stretch. He groans as he feels you flutter and tense and contract around him, still unable to breathe, unable to speak. Only he can get you like this - not a babble slipping past your lips, unable to do anything but feel him. Joel pants, moaning again as he bottoms out, tip kissing your cervix. He runs a finger over your cheek, letting you adjust further.

‘Talk to me, baby,’ he urges.

He rocks his hips back and forth, no more than an inch, but it punches out the breath you were holding.

‘Fuck, Joel,’ the whisper all you can get out. He smiles at you.

‘Yeah, angel?’

‘So big.’ you breathe, shifting your hips so he can sink even further in.

‘There she is,’ he huffs, pulling out again, ‘There’s my girl.’

Joel rocks forward again, and you cry out around him, the noise setting him off into a languid pace which allows him to hit every single spot inside you. You can’t bear to touch your own body, frightened of sending yourself into the void, but you do touch Joel. You clutch at his biceps, his tight forearms, nails leaving little crescent moons wherever you grip. You tangle your fingers in his salt and pepper curls, swipe the lines on his forehead, the stubble on his cheeks. He twists his head to kiss and suck at your thumb, and you mewl at him, eyes wide and glassy, so full of him you don’t know what to do.

You’re barely aware, even, of the slick sound of skin and Santi’s soft groans as he works his cock in the chair, caught up in the intensity of you and Joel fucking, his chest flushed and shining with sweat.

There’s still not a noise, not a peep from the other side of the door.

All you can hear is Joel; his deep breathing, low grunts and moans, his whispered praises, and the startlingly wet sound of his cock sliding in and out of you. You can’t stop the contractions that build inside you, and every time one ripples through your pussy Joel’s head drops a little lower towards your chest.

Your orgasm feels deafeningly close and impossibly strong, brought on by every shift of Joel’s dick. You try to breathe through it, your moans getting louder, soaking the room with sound, but it’s hopeless.

Joel dips his head to kiss you softly, swallowing your sounds for just a minute. When he pulls away, you teeter on the edge, everything feeling heavy and blurred and blazingly good.

‘Joel.’ You whisper urgently.

‘I know, baby,’ he says, ‘I can feel it. You’re taking it so well, sweet girl. So good f’me. I know it feels good. You can let go. You can do it. Come on.’

You all but scream against him, your orgasm ripping through your body, every muscle on fire. Your legs shake and your arms tighten around his neck as you shiver and twitch around him, and he moans, long and loud, like you’ve never heard him do before.

As he fucks you through it, the relief, the pleasure catches up with you, and tears swell and pour out of your eyes.

‘So good,’ you sob, ‘So good daddy, God -’

Joel coos back at you. ‘Atta girl, baby. Knew you could do it. Knew you could give me one more. And it was so pretty, baby.’ he grins at you, before picking up his pace. You whine beneath him.

‘’S okay,’ he promises, ‘Where do you want me, darlin’?’ and you huff at him, as if you could ever give a different answer.

‘Inside. Come inside me.’ You say. And Joel crowds you out, pushing all the way in so you’re moaning again, pumping in the deepest part of you as his hips flex against yours, his head in your shoulder. You stroke his curls, breathing deeply as he relaxes.

‘Jesus Christ,’ he mumbles against your skin. He pulls his head away, blinking. You giggle up at him.

‘Y’alright?’ you ask, and he smiles back.

‘Fuckin’ more’n alright,’ he laughs, ‘Are you?’

‘Yeah,’ you say, ‘Real good.’

Joel slides himself out of you, both grunting at the loss, and he flicks a look over your shoulder.

‘You good, Pope?’ He asks, grinning at the other man. You twist your head to look at him too, giggling again when you take in his fucked out face, exhausted in the corner, his stomach covered in come. Santi can’t help but grin back.

‘Yeah, great.’ he answers wryly, and you giggle even more.

Joel laughs with you, rolling onto his back and pulling you against his shoulder, kissing your hair.

‘Did so good, baby.’ he reminds you again as you feel him begin to dribble out of you.

Santi stands with a groan, and makes his way back towards the bathroom, muttering something about having to clean himself up again.

You press your face to Joel’s neck with a smile, leaving soft kisses, only coming away when you hear the jingle of a belt buckle. Santi is dressing at the end of the bed, just short of pulling his top on. You frown at him.

‘You’re leaving?’ you ask. He looks up, smirking again.

‘Not yet, querida,’ he says, ‘Just cold. Besides, there’s still someone we need to look after.’

You watch him as he buckles his belt with baited breath, curious as to how this will play out. You aren’t sure what exactly will happen next - whether Frankie will come in, or who will… deal with him. Your breath hitches in your throat before Joel answers your questions for you.

‘Go check on Frankie, baby girl,’ he murmurs, stroking your hair back. You bury your face in his chest again, and breathe in deeply. You scrunch the sheets at his waist in your fist, and Santi chuckles at your reluctance to leave the bed. You plant a kiss to Joel’s exposed skin before pulling yourself away to sit up on the bed. Planting your feet and gathering your strength before standing. You pick up Joel’s flannel from the floor and slip your arms into it, bundling yourself against the chill you now also feel as you pad towards the door. You feel Joel and Santi’s eyes on you, silent, assessing.

When you reach the bedroom door, you touch it gingerly, breathing deeply. You feel… nervous. How would Frankie react to everything he’d heard? You knew he’d done things like it before, but you knew you would be so… angry. Jealous and frustrated. You bite your lip, and slowly pull the door back.

Frankie is exactly where Santi left him, on his knees a step back from the threshold. Your breath catches in your throat as you take him in.

At some point during it all, he'd removed his cap. It’s tossed on the floor a few feet away, and his hair is… fucked. Strands stick out on all sides, his curls mussed and frazzled. Sweat is gathered at his temples, and his skin has a warm, glossy sheen to it. All across his face, right down to the hollow of his throat peeking above his t-shirt. His lips are swollen and bitten, wet with spit as his tongue pokes out to lick them again at the sight of you, and his eyes… Eyes so dark they’re almost black, pupils blown so wide they just sparkle back at you. Deep, dangerous, and hungry.

He’s ravenous as he looks you up and down - your smooth skin, naked thighs, bare pussy - still dripping with come - up to your exposed tits, bitten and bruised, your neck, your face… totally fucked out, swollen lips, smudged makeup, your own blown out eyes. He moans as he takes you in, and you go weak at the knees at the sight of his hands raking up and down his jean-clad thighs. His dick is straining against the denim, against the claw of his zipper, and as you look closer, you see a wet patch much larger than just precum darkening the fabric. Your cheeks flush at the sight, at the knowledge - Frankie had come in his pants just listening to the three of you.

You breathe out shakily and get to your knees, so close to him you're almost touching. You reach a hand out to cup his cheek, and he leans into it, breathing in and out deeply, closing his eyes.

‘You okay, baby?’ You ask him softly, voice low. Frankie groans again.

‘Yes.’ He croaks out.

You don’t know if you’re allowed, but you figure you’ll find out soon enough. You lean forward, tits spilling out of Joel’s shirt, and place your hands on his thighs. His breathing sputters, and his head drops forward, but not before you can catch his lips in a sweet, soft kiss. Just like you’ve wanted to, for so long.

He sighs against you, lips seeking yours. But he seems so exhausted, so on edge, that he can hardly pour any fire into it. His tongue searches your mouth, almost like a plea.

Please. Please.

As though he hears it too, Joel says quietly from the bed -

‘Help him, baby.’

You pull away from Frankie’s kiss and lean your forehead to his.

‘What do you need?’ You whisper.

He looses a ragged sigh, too turned on to even know himself.

‘Can I touch you?’ He breathes.

You nod, and he reaches out his hands - carefully, gently - to skirt over and up your waist, to touch your stomach, to skate over your tits. You wince, once, as he traces over one of your nipples, and he freezes. You smile shyly at him.

‘It’s okay,’ you whisper, ‘’M just sore.’ He nods, and continues to touch, caressing your neck, thumbing your jaw, your cheekbone, stroking your brow. He’s so tender, so Frankie, that you feel tears well behind your eyelids. As though he can sense it, tell the gravity of the moment, he drops his hands, skirting them along your thighs, drifting towards your hips, thumbs rubbing the sides of your tummy, before creeping towards your heat.

‘Is this okay?’ He asks.

‘Yes.’ You sigh, this time against his mouth, drawing his lips back to yours.

When Frankie dips one of his hands to sweep through your folds, you both moan. Low and long against each other.

‘Fuck,’ he breathes against you, stalling. Slowly, slowly, he brings his coated fingers to his mouth, so close to you that you can smell it, the mix of you and Joel and Santi, and he slips the digits between his lips. He holds your eye the whole time, devouring, tongue swiping over every knuckle, every valley, until they’re clean. He releases them with a pop. You groan, wanting him, impossibly, and you ask again.

‘What do you need, Frankie?’

‘You.’ He says. Frankie swoops forward again to kiss you, one hand now at the back of your head, one back between your legs, gathering the mess between your thighs. You rock against his hand as he parts you, feels you, and you reach forward for his belt, his button, his zipper, undoing all three in record time. You slip a hand into his jeans, under his boxers, impatient to feel him, all of him, and he gasps against you, stilling his movements. He groans your name, almost in warning.

‘It’s okay,’ you tell him, stroking his hair soothingly, ‘You’ve waited so long, Frankie. It’s okay.’

You take your hand out from his pants, and join his at your pussy, just for a moment, just to collect what’s left and what’s already pooling from you again, before returning your hand to his cock, using the combined juices to move your hand easily up and down. Frankie moans brokenly against you, his body slumping forwards.

You can’t see him like this, but you can feel him - and Frankie is big. Not quite as big as Joel, but thicker and pulsing against your palm, already wet from his come and what you have just provided him. You swipe your thumb over his tip, collecting his precum to spread down his length, and he jerks against you at the movement.

‘Fuck, baby,’ he whispers, ‘I can’t, I’m not gonna last, hermosa -’

You shush him again, kissing at his temple, his brow, his cheek, before nudging to his lips.

‘It’s okay, Frankie,’ you say again. ‘I want you to come. You deserve to come. You’ve been so good for us.’

And it’s all Frankie needs as he moans loudly against your lips, body seizing and relaxing harshly against yours as he spills himself over your fist, over his jeans, over your thighs and the top of your mound. There is so much of him it’s almost comical, and you laugh softly as he finally starts to relax.

He looks up at you shyly, questioningly.

‘Look at you, Frankie,’ you breathe, and he flushes right to the tops of his ears. ‘So good.’ You murmur.

‘All for you,’ he whispers so only you can hear. He holds your gaze, trying to communicate everything he’s been thinking behind that door. ‘All for you.’

You lean forward and kiss him again. Try to forget, for now, the scratch of those unanswered questions, what it could all mean. Later.

‘Come on,’ you say, taking his hand and rising from the floor. He follows and returns your smile. ‘Let's get you cleaned up.’

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #santiago garcia #santiago garcia x reader #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller x frankie morales x santiago garcia x reader #joel miller x frankie morales x reader

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clockwayswrites · 7 months

Text

City Pigeons Bleed Green

WC: 1329 Masterpost CW: stitches, blood, canon typical violence, history of experimentation, bad (lbh evil) parent Fentons “I need to get to Bruce Wayne.”

“We should be able to arrange a conversation,” Tim said immediately. None of the shock and concern that Tim must have been feeling seeped through into his words. Jason always admired how even keel Tim could seem.

The kid’s eyes snapped to Tim, brow furrowed in confusion.

Tim just shrugged. “He does good in the city, so do we. Besides, his kids are targeted a lot and sometimes we get involved to help out with that. There’s a line of communication that we can use.”

“So what?” They rasped. “You let every kid who wants to talk to Bruce Wayne get to just ‘cause they’re bleeding out?”

“He’d say that was a good enough reason,” Jason said with certainty. He knew how much money and effort Bruce poured into Make a Wish and the children's hospital.

The kid squinted at him before glancing away. “I don’t think I’m ready to talk to him… like this…”

“Then a safe house for right now,” Tim insisted. “Just like the name says, it’s safe. We can get you patched up and you can rest somewhere you don’t have to look over your shoulder. When you’re feeling better, we’ll set up that meeting.”

“You’ll let a stranger stay at your safe house, just like that?”

“Kid,” Jason said with a sigh. “I don’t think you’re getting it. You’re a very hurt kid. You’re exactly the type of person that we’d do that for. We’re the Bats of Gotham and we protect her people.”

There was that ugly laugh again. “I’m not even from Gotham.”

“You’re here now. That’s all that matters in Gotham,” Jason said. He took the risk and held out his hand. Jason didn’t pray anymore, not since his mother died, but he still silently hoped that the kid would take it. Jason felt certain they wouldn’t make it if they didn’t take it.

The fingers braced against the grimy cinder block wall twitched. Then the hand reached out. The kid collapsed forward into the motion and Jason lunged to catch them. He lifted them gently, worried about how light they were.

“It’s okay, we’ve got you. We’ll make sure you’re safe.”

The kid hid their face against Jason’s jacket. Their words were almost too quiet to hear. “I don’t know if you can.”

“Never underestimate what a stubborn Bat can do, Kid.”

The kid passed out halfway to the safe house. It was probably for the best. Their injuries were… extensive would be too kind of a word.

Tim laid down a plastic sheet on the bed before Jason deposited the kid down on it. The hoodie, which couldn’t be the kid’s at that size, had to be practically peeled off. The main wound that must have been the blood splatter he noticed was the immediate concern, but it was everything else that worried Tim more.

This was more than signs of abuse, this was torture or experimentation. Those scars and wounds cut into the kid’s arms and torso was far too even and controlled. There were other, messier scars that looked like burns and stab wounds. The inside of their elbows were littered with track marks and their hands bruised from what must have been IV ports. The worst for Tim was seeing the metal collar around the kid’s neck, but he knew that wasn’t what was getting Jason. He didn’t need to see Jason’s eyes to tell they were glued to the track marks.

“Go take five and fill a bowl up with warm water,” Tim said.

“Red—”

“Hood,” Tim snapped, cutting off Jason’s growl. Tim had suffered Jason’s bite, the bark didn’t scare him anymore. Besides, they understood each other these days. They were the Bats will willing blood on their hands. “Go take five. They’re not going anywhere and I need your help to patch them up, so go take five and get your head on, okay?”

The fight drained out of Jason like a string had been cut. He nodded and stalked off to the tiny kitchen that was basically an afterthought to the living room. It was hardly their most glamorous safe house but it was close, had two bedrooms, and was secure, despite it’s shoddy appearance.

Tim had the old bandages and scraps of cloth peeled off by the time Jason came back to start cleaning away the green blood.

“We need to get antibiotics for them from Leslie,” Jason said after the worst was cleaned up.

“Definitely. This new wound is from a knife and some of these were wrapped with what I think was an old hospital scrub.”

“Lends credence to…”

“Yeah.”

Jason nodded stiffly. “This needs stitches.”

“Luckily I think bandages are fine for everything else,” Tim said.

He snapped off the nitrate gloves and put on a fresh pair. He carefully numbed the skin around the wound while he waited for Jason to be in a spot to hold the kid down should they wake up. The first few stitches went fine. Tim took the time to be extra neat. The kid didn’t need any worse scars because of his sloppy work.

Tim had just started on the forth one when the kid started to stir. They twitched and whimpered in their sleep. Jason pressed down carefully to keep them from moving too much.

“No, Mom, please, I’m your son! I’m not— Don’t… not again. I’ll be good…”

Tim looked up at the impassive red helmet.

“I’m good. I have him. Just keep stitching so we can get him tucked in to bed.”

“Okay,” Tim said and got back to work. It was hard to ignore the whimpered words and everything they implied, but Tim needed to focus. There would be time to start looking into everything after.

It was as he was cleaning up that Jason threw a wrench into things.

“Don’t run his DNA.”

“What?” Tim hissed, rounding on Jason. “That is clearly Bruce’s kid in there!”

“Exactly. It’s obviously his kid, there’s no doubt in that with the way he looks. And just as obviously he’s been tortured or experimented on. Don’t you think he’s been stripped of his privacy enough?”

All the fight bled out of Tim an instant. “Fuck. I didn’t think… I just wanted to…”

“I know. You wanted to help by solving this, but that’s not what this kid needs right now. So hold off until he feels safe enough to consent, okay?”

“Okay, no, you’re right, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, Red,” Jason said, ruffling Tim’s hair with a wet hand. “Creepy stalking is just your way of caring, I get it. Just pull back a little this time. You can focus on that collar he’s wearing right now.”

Tim shuddered. “That thing needs to go. Am I staying on watch then?”

“If you’re fine with that. I’ll get Oracle to call the others to the Cave.”

“Sure,” Tim said. He didn’t want to miss that conversation, but someone had to stay with the kid and he was a better choice to get the collar off. “Just make sure I have a comm line in.”

“Of course. Can’t have you missing out on us discussing the old man’s sex life.”

“Ugh, never mind, I don’t need a comm line!”

“Too late!” Jason called out with a laugh as he headed for the door.

Tim flicked him off just to do so.

After double checking that the place was secure, Tim pulled out a tool bag. At least he could start by testing the collar for explosive residue or other traps that would keep Tim from taking it off. The thought of the collar being rigged made him sick to his stomach, but it fit too well with the canvas of scars that the kid bore.

“Who did this to you, Kid?” Tim asked, even though he knew he wouldn’t get a response. “And how soon can Hood put a bullet in their head for you?”

--- AN: So here's a little more of this for Trauma Tuesday! The Reds are very concerned! I'm still having fun writing a Jason and Tim who get along and understand each other in a way the other 'we don't kill' Bat's don't, threats of murder and all.

Sorry if there are lots of mistakes (I don't need them corrected, ty), it's been a bad fatigue spell here. Still hope you enjoyed it and stay delightful, darlings!

(Oh, and there's another continuation to the OG threaded to it by chroma if you want a different take!)

Masterpost you can subscribe to, as I no longer tag people!

#dp x dc #batpham #trauma tuesday #city pigeons

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sexlapis · 6 months

Note

Ho! I loooooooveeee your actor toji fics! Is it possible to get added to the taglist? Thank you ~

Also an idea: a bts scene of reader getting sick on set(perhaps even collapsing) due to fatigue and toji taking care of them- I feel like that'd be such a hit ship moment irl :D

thank you for liking my fics <3 you can be added to the tag list 🩵.

and omg yeah i love that idea of reader overworking themselves and toji looking after them :’). and yeah i didn’t make it a behind the scenes clip i made a short fic abt it bc i do not know when to stop.. like give me an idea and i will fly away w it like a bird liek..i don’t even think this is what you asked for srsly…i hope you don’t mind (but i’ll add it to my tojiyn headcanons hehe)

cw: actor toji x actress reader, hurt/comfort, angst to fluff, swearing, petnames (‘kid’, ik people don’t like this one but i think it’s so sweet & so toji :)), collapsing, mentions of skipping meals/not eating, poor sleeping habits, feelings of loneliness & inadequacy, crying, toji taking care of reader, i made this way more angsty than you asked sorry :(

wc: 2k+

you dragged yourself through the doors of the studio, immediately bombarded by directors, stylists, scrip writers and other cast members on your way to the dressing room, only fuelling your fatigue and stress.

sleep was a foreign concept at this point. five hours at most. so were healthy, filling meals - the last time you ate was yesterday at noon, and for breakfast today all you had was a cup of coffee, not helping your nervous, exhausted state.

admittedly, you were not doing very well. you felt that your acting was subpar and you felt lonely and isolated on set. while everyone went with their friends for a break or lunch, you sat by yourself in your dressing room, your only company being the silence.

sure, toji was also on set too, but he played a very minor role, so he wasn’t always there. and even when he was sometimes, he would hang out with the other crew members, which wasn’t a problem of course, but it did sting a little when he chose them over you.

you just felt so lonely, anxious and quite frankly upset at yourself and the circumstances you find yourself in.

there are a few knocks at your dressing room door and you weakly tell them to come in.

toji peeks is head in. “hey, kid. we start in five..” he takes a look at your weary face, dark eye bags prominent even through the makeup the stylists caked on and the frown on your lips and just knows something is wrong.

“are you ‘right?” he asks quietly, like you’re a deer who’s about to run away at the slightest of sounds.

“yes, i’m fine.” you lie, a voice in the back of your mind wishing he’d just ignore you like everyone else on this damn set does.

“‘you sure? ‘cause you don’t look-”

“i said im fine! just get out.” you snap, heart beating and breathing heavily at your own outburst.

fuck. you didn’t mean to say that.

but toji doesn’t look offended. he just nods and walks away footsteps fading as you put your head in your hands and sob.

so there you are, acting in front of the camera with your colleague in a scene where toji appears in too and you just seem off. everyone assumes it’s just not your day today and they’re not exactly wrong. you lines were slightly forced, tired and you were jittery and clearly apprehensive, like you didn’t even want to be here.

“cut!” the director calls out, more than annoyed with your behaviour. it was the sixth take and you’re really trying to make it believable, but it’s futile.

“this is the sixth take _____. this is ridiculous. get your act together. let’s take five.”

you look down at your shoes, face hot and chest thudding with embarrassment due to the director calling you out in front of everybody. tears well up in your eyes and you sigh, blinking them away as everyone starts talking again, walking away leaving you standing there like an idiot.

it all becomes too much for you. your empty stomach, oncoming headache, exhausted body, dry mouth, furrowed eyebrows, sweaty palms-

you let your script fall out of your hand as you stumble off the green screen, trying to get to your room before a hand is grabbing your arm. you turn around and it’s toji again.

“hey..” he leans down slightly to your height, scanning you over once. “you don’t look so good, _____-”

you shrug him off, vision becoming blurred with black static and limbs heavy and shaky. “i-i jus’ need to go. to my..uhm-” you stop, rubbing a hand down your face harshly. “i just-”

and then there is black.

౨ৎ

you come to and realise that you are laying on your dressing room couch, staring up at the ceiling. reaching up, you feel a wet, cool cloth on your head. you take it off. still fuzzy and body essentially lethargic, you try to sit up.

“hey, hey, hey.” toji whispers.

oh, toji’s here.

“take it easy.” he helps you sit up on the arm of the couch. he hands you a bottle of water and you drink it like a god.

“wait, what happened?” you ask, still confused and disoriented.

“you fuckin’ fainted that’s what,” he states bluntly. “scared the fuckin’ dogshit outta me.”

“oh.”

toji sits beside you on a chair, looking at you closely. you look down.

“the med team checked you out.” he tells you. “said you fainted, collapsed-whatever the fuck. ‘cos of stress and exhaustion. they even checked your blood sugar and said it was low as fuck.” he pauses. “not dangerously low,” he adds at the sight of your worried expression, “but.. low enough.”

you sigh, falling back on the couch. you think back to how the director shouted at you, how annoyed he was, and how humiliated you felt. tears start to form again and you cover your face with your hands, not wanting to cry in front of toji. you felt like you’ve had enough embarrassment for today.

toji leans forward. “what’s happening with you?”

the way he said it, so soft and concerned, makes the tears fall down and cause sobs to escape your mouth, hiccuped breaths falling from your mouth.

“hey, hey, hey..” toji coos. he reaches to you and makes you sit up again so he can take you into his arms. you let him, sobbing into his shoulder and sucking up all the comfort he gives you. toji’s big hand strokes your hair and the other caresses your back softly.

“shh, sh, sh…” he calms you down a little, you sobs turning into sniffles. he leans back and gives you space but his hands stay planted on your back. “tell toji what’s wrong.”

you hum sadly, looking down and gulping. “i’m..i’m tired. i wanna sleep..”

toji waits for you to continue. he can see you want to say more so he doesn’t hurry you along, he just rubs your back and nods to let you know you’re listening.

“i..” you take a breath, “i dunno what to do..i can’t do this fucking role.. i’m fucking tired half the fucking day and my so called colleagues don’t even like me!” you try to calm yourself down, taking another shaky breath. “and i just feel..lonely all the time..” you cry out the last few words, feeling another sob session coming up and toji pulls you close, letting you ruin his shirt with your tears as he rocks you back and forth in his arms.

“it’s okay, it’s okay..” he coos, resting his face in your hair.

you both stay like that for a few moments, you weeps dying down before toji talks.

“you can play this part, _____. ‘you have any idea how good your are, huh? you can act circles around half ‘these guys.”

you scoff, pulling your lips together. “i dunno about that..”

“‘m serious. _____, you can act, okay? ‘wouldn’t have made it this far if you couldn’t.”

“yeah but..this one’s hard..” you sigh, voice cracking but toji doesn’t let you start again.

“yeah, acting’s hard. but i can help you,” toji cups your wet face with his hands, wiping the tear streaks that paint you face, “we can all help you. the crew, your friends, that bitchass director. i’ll put a gun to everyone’s head to make them fuckin’ help you with this.”

you giggle at his seriousness and he huffs, relieved that you’re relaxing a little.

“they don’t hate you, y’know. everybody on set. the cast. they just think you’re a little shy and quiet. they don’t hate you, okay?” toji reassures you. you nod absentmindedly and he shakes your head from side to side to make you pay attention, making you smile, eyes crinkling even though they’re still tear stricken. “there she is..who the fuck could hate you, huh?”

“ugh, toji.” you roll your eyes, sniffling and rubbing your face. you pull away from him. “ugh..i just want my bed right now.”

“yeah..i know it ain’t my place but told the director that you’re taking a few days off. you need a break, kid.”

you didn’t even argue with him. you couldn’t.

“yeah, i do.” you agree.

suddenly, a loud rumble from your stomach erupts, it was like an earthquake.

toji laughs. “someone’s hungry.”

you groan. “‘m starving. haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

“we’re getting you something to eat.” he states, leaving no room for objections.

toji stands, holding his hand out for you to take. you do, his large, calloused hand dwarfing yours as he helps you stand up. “can you walk?”

“i will if there’s food involved.”

“that’s good.” toji chuckles, “how’s takeout sound?”

a/n: had to write a whole fic abt this i apologise 🥸 will add the tag list later i just keep forgetting the users </3

#📫.toji #📫.answered #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji x self insert #toji fluff #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji fushiguro x self insert #toji fushiguro fluff #toji fushiguro fanfic #actor!toji #actress!reader #toji zenin x reader #toji zenin x you

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multifandoms4 · 16 days

Text

Secrets

Lando Norris x Leclerc!Reader

Word count: 1.2k+

You and Lando have been together for about a year now, but no one knows. You kept your relationship a secret because of how the press can be and more importantly your older brothers. You love your brothers but sometimes they can be a bit much, like now. Lando had accidentally left a hickey on your neck and your brothers saw it before you could hide it. And now, they were practically interrogating you.

Charles was pacing around the room, Lorenzo was just sitting and staring at you and Arthur was asking you questions. "Who have you been seeing?" "How long has it been going on?" "Why would you not tell us?" You kept silent and didn't answer any of their questions which only made Charles more angry. Your phone started to ring, but Charles grabbed it and saw it said “Baby❤️” then answered it. “Hey baby, when are we meeting up today?” Lando asked before Charles could say anything. “You’re dating LANDO?!” He yelled at you then he started yelling at Lando who just hung up on him.

You looked up at Charles to see him fuming. “Cha, please listen-” “No, I asked one thing of you years ago and that was to never date another driver. And what do you go and do? Exactly that.” You could feel the tears building up as Charles shows his anger and disappointment towards you. Eventually you got up and walked to your room and started to pack a small bag of clothes. You grabbed your keys and looked at your brothers, “You may not agree or be happy about me being with Lando but it is my choice and I love him. So when you are done throwing a tantrum, come talk to me then.” You grabbed your phone and left.

Lando was parked outside and opened your door for you. “Thank you Love.” You murmured and gave him a small kiss. He closed the door once you were in the passenger seat and got in the car. The ride to his house was mostly quite and he didn’t know what to do. “I’m sorry that I caused us to be caught.” He whispered. Lando felt terrible that your brothers were rude to you because he had left a hickey by accident. “It’s okay Lan, the truth would have to come out anyways.” You told him. “I just want to forget about it.” You whispered. He nodded and when you got to his house, you changed into a hoodie of his and laid down.

He got into a pair of sweatpants and laid down with you. Lando pulled you into his arms and you buried your face into his neck. “They wouldn’t let me explain and all I could see was Charles’ anger and disappointment.” You whispered. He pulled you closer to him and held you there. “I’m sorry baby, I wish I could do something to help.” He said and you could tell he was upset at your brothers. “Just being here is enough.” You told him and slowly drifted off to sleep. Right before he went to fall asleep, your phone started ringing. He saw it was your mother and answered it.

“Hello Mrs. Leclerc, this is Lando Y/n’s boyfriend. She is currently sleeping.” He waited for her response afraid she was going to yell at him. “Can you please tell Y/n that I want you and her here tomorrow night for dinner. I’ll keep her brothers at bay but I would like to meet you.” Lando was shocked that was what she called about. “I’ll let her know, thank you so much Mrs. Leclerc.” He replied. “She seems to really trust you if your who she went to when she’s upset. I’ll see you two tomorrow.” She ended the call and Lando finally drifted off to sleep.

Once morning rolled around and Lando took you out for breakfast, he told you “Your mom called last night and told us to be at dinner tonight.” You slowly put your fork down. “She did what?” “She called and I didn’t want her to worry over you so I answered and told her you were fine. Then next thing I know, she’s invited me to your family dinner tonight.” You smiled at him “At least maman seems to be happy I’m dating you.”

~time skip to dinner~

Lando had went out and bought your mom her favorite flowers and he was nervous to say the least. You opened the door and yelled out “We’re here.” Then you heard footsteps which turned out to be your mother. “How are you doing dear?” She asked you. “I’m fine maman, really.” She smiled then turned to Lando “These are for you Mrs. Leclerc.” He handed her the flowers. “Oh they are so pretty! Come on in, dinner is almost ready.” You gave Lando’s hand a squeeze and followed your mom.

Your brothers were already sitting at the table and you could tell they were not happy. “Lando, these are my other two brothers Lorenzo and Arthur.” You pointed to them and they just stared back at him. “Guys this is Lando.” You said trying to get someone to talk. Once you realize that they weren’t, you went to the kitchen to help your mom. “You can come with me if you want.” You told Lando. He nodded and grabbed your hand. His hands were a little unsteady due to nerves. “It’s okay baby. The only one whose opinion matters is me and of course my maman’s.” You joked with him. He gave you a smile and a laugh. You smiled up at him and pulled him down for a quick kiss.

Dinner had gone smoothly thanks to your mother but she truly loved Lando and that was all you could ask for. Both of you were currently sitting on the patio in the back yard. “I told you you had nothing to worry about.” You teased Lando. He rolled his eyes playfully and you laughed at him. “You’re always right aren’t you?” He joked with you. “Something along those lines.” You remarked and pulled him into a kiss. It lasted a few minutes before you pulled away and rested your head on his chest. Arthur and Lorenzo really like Lando once they got to actually talk to him but Charles seemed to hold onto his anger. At least until now.

He was watching you and Lando and he could see how good you are for each other. He looked down and started to feel guilty for yelling at you over this when you had always been supportive of his relationships. Once Lando decided to call it a night, Charles stopped him on his way out. “I know I’ve been rude all night but you make my sister happy and you seem to treat her right. That’s all I can ask for.” Lando nodded “Thanks man, that means a lot to me.” Charles pulled him in for a hug and it made you happy to see that.

After Lando left, Charles apologized to you about how he acted and handled the situation. “Definitely could have been handled better.” You joked with him. “I’m just glad that you came around and aren’t going to try to kill him every chance you get.” You smiled and gave him a hug. “How long have you two been together anyway?” Charles asked as you walked to your room. “About a year now.” You stated and shut your door. “A YEAR?!” Charles shouted and it made you laugh.

—————

Author’s note:

Hey, this is my first time writing an image so please ignore any mistakes. I’ve been wanting to write things for a while but finally decided to do it. If you have any feedback please let me know but please don’t be rude about it. Hope you enjoyed it!

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x leclerc!reader #f1 #f1 imagine #charles leclerc #formula 1

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sp0o0kylights · 10 months

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Steve and Gareth as Cousins, no longer a warm-up and now called Lifelines, part three! I’ll throw it up on A03 when I finish the fourth part.

Prior parts can be read here: Part One / Part Two

First things first, the most amazing @ sereinpetrichor managed to track down the OG Twitter thread this runaway train is based off of!

It was this thread by @gatorthots, the Tumblr version of which can be read, here. All blame for this idea firmly rests on their brilliant, plot bunny inducing shoulders.

The other, follow up thread I mentioned was this one by Silas, whose tumblr name I do not know.

As always and forever, shout out to the most amazing @chalkysgarbagefire who helps me edit/plot/pats my head while I’m crying in their inbox bc the words aren’t wording right.

Warnings: Steve and Robin are canon (S3) drugged. I took a slightly (kinda sorta) more realistic approach. Vomit mention, canon threat of violence/guns (the Russian guards) Mention of pantsing/past bullying, Steve and Robin’s drugged asses not understanding personal space, Dustin’s canon...Im gonna go with assholishness? but like, I think its more than he’s a young kid and doesn't quite have the emotional growth/awareness yet in this kind of insane situation to know how to react to the whole address/torture bit (really who does)/its a defense mechanism--and Gareth sort of has a panic attack.

Whatever the hell they had been drugged with, Steve and Robin went from 'giggly happy fun time' to 'vomiting into toilet bowls while loudly wishing for death’ awfully fast.

Gareth was not an expert on drugs. He knew Eddie wasn't either (the guy never dealt anything stronger than your average psychedelic--had some agreement with his Uncle about only selling "the 70s basics") and repeated looks towards him proved Eddie was still trying to figure out what Steve and Robin were on.

Answers hadn't exactly been forthcoming--Eddie's gently made attempts at ferreting out information had only caused more confusion.

Like why the two of them were so freaked out about a gate, or what had made Robin gasp, and then laugh so hard she cried when Steve had made a particularly rough noise then muttered; "Even that sounds better than Tammy Thompson."

Either way, Gareth was mostly trying to figure out what the hell they were going to do, because sobering up in a busy, public mall wasn't exactly the best idea.

"I regret," Robin tried to say, in-between gagging. "I regret--hrk--"

"Me too." Steve moaned, head resting against the stall wall. Gareth, still caught up in panic, had been permanently regulated to door guard while Eddie alternated between sweet talking, rubbing backs and offering quietly whispered advice.

"Let's go back in time and ignore the whole silver cat thing." Robin continued, slumping back down onto the floor.

"Wouldn't have mattered." Steve muttered. "Dustin would have figured it out without us. Kid’s too damn smart."

"So?" Robin grumbled, quietly thanking Eddie as he once again brushed her hair out of her face.

"So he would have gone down there anyway, which means I'd be down there anyway." Steve concluded. "We shouldn't have gotten you involved though."

He shakily pushed himself up, staggering to his feet and looking like bambi on ice while doing it.

Eddie quickly came round to offer his help, hands spread as Steve groaned out a curse and clutched his head.

The older took a step forward right as Steve lurched back, unbalanced and shaky.

"Oh shit." He said, eyes wide as he crashed backwards into Eddie, the latter catching him with a grunt.

Despite the entire situation, Gareth found himself stifling a laugh as Eddie wrapped his noodle arms around Steve's chest, trying to hold the other up without falling himself.

"Come on big boy, why don't we just siiiit back down." Eddie said, slightly breathless as he helped guide Steve back to the floor. "There we go…"

They did so outside the bathroom stall, Eddie sinking into a kneel as Steve sort of flopped down on top of him.

Blinked a few times, like the drop had rattled what little sense he’d managed to recover in the last few minutes.

A pleased noise came out of his cousin's throat, and holy shit was Gareth going to have blackmail for life, because rather than vacate Eddie's lap, Steve just turned around in it.

Reached up with one finger outstretched and proved himself to be very much still under the influence as he touched Eddie's nose.

"Boop!" He said, and then giggled as Eddie dropped onto his ass in surprise.

Gareth watched Robin as she took the whole thing in, from Steve's snickers to Eddie's shocked expression, eyes growing wide in excitement.

He failed entirely to cover his own amusement when Eddie abruptly found himself with two sailors invading his personal space, each taking turns to boop his nose.

“Uh.” He managed to get out, blinking rapidly and at a loss for words. “Ah.”

Steve caught the metalhead’s awkward, red-faced expression and proceeded to drop his head to Eddie's shoulder, muffling his laughter against the man's vest.

The helpless look his best friend sent him was one Gareth would remember for a long time.

“O-kay.” Eddie said, frazzled, as Steve recovered far too quickly, turning to rest his cheek against a slim shoulder as he walked two fingers up Eddie’s battle vest and towards his hair. Likewise, Robin had discovered Eddie’s wallet chain, and had begun fiddling with it.

One finger curled around a strand of brown hair and Eddie jerked his head, removing the tempting piece away from Steve’s hands.

“I know you’re used to getting whatever you want, your highness.” He said, his own hand smacking against his waist before Robin figured out the other end of his chain ended in a handcuff, “But you of all people should know the hair is off limits.”

Completely undeterred, Steve just gave him a loose, easy grin. “It’s so pretty though.” He complained, fluttering his eyelashes in a blatant attempt to try and turn on the ol’ Harrington charm. “You can touch mine if you want.”

Yeah, Gareth’s blackmail was getting better by the second.

He might even get a new piece for his drum kit out of it, if this kept up.

Free weed too, considering Eddie’s blush was now fire-engine red.

“Man,” Eddie said in a clear bid to deflect the entire situation (and Steve’s fingers) away from his hair, “the last time someone called me pretty was right before I got pantsed—-is Tommy H hiding in one of the stalls again?”

Steve picked his head up, confusion crashing down his face.

“Did he do that?” He asked.

Then, with growing horror; “Do you think I’d do that?”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that your whole little court’s M.O.?”

Steve sucked in a breath, looking downright hurt. "I wouldn’t do that." He insisted, eyes wheeling from Eddie to Gareth and back, as though hoping Gareth would back him up.

“I’m not--I’m not friends with Tommy anymore.” Steve continued, voice growing smaller as he spoke. “I’m not friends with anybody anymore, except maybe Dustin.”

It sounded so defeated; trodden on and subdued that Gareth stepped forward automatically, to do--something.

Provide the fucking comfort his cousin was oft denied and hug the guy.

As always, it turned out to be the wrong move.

"Oh thank god." A kid said, seconds after bulldozing through the main door and nearly bowling Gareth over in the process. "I found them!" He shouted over his shoulder as swept into the room.

“Speak of the devil.” Steve said flatly, and even drugged, he managed to pull himself back together from distressed to stoic in mere seconds.

The curly-haired kid--Dustin apparently--stormed right up to the pile of humans splayed on the floor, hands on his hips. "What the hell. We told you two to stay put!"

Steve rolled his eyes as Robin booed him.

“Have you forgotten what’s happening? Or how we’re kinda in a Red Dawn situation?” Dustin continued, looking like he’d just escaped from a summer camp.

The kid even had a walkie talkie clutched in one hand, of all things.

“We know.” Steve and Robin deadpanned at once, before looking at each other; Steve pointing a finger towards Robin and Robin pointing one back.

This caused the kids to trade their own long suffering, “can you believe this shit” faces.

"We need to go, and the only way we’re gonna get out of here unnoticed is if we blend in with the crowd." Dustin said impatiently. “Now come on Steve, get up already, you've had worse.”

"I really don't think I have." Steve muttered, but moved to push himself to his feet anyway.

Eddie beat him to it, and he and Gareth both hovered nearby in case Steve was still unsteady.

Thankfully, the kids' presence seemed to sober up Robin and Steve both.

Not actually sober, that wasn't how drugs worked, but whatever was left of the fun was sucked right out of the bathroom, replaced by two teenagers who were sort of functional on whatever they'd been drugged with.

Stress and adrenaline, Gareth knew, could overcome a lot of things. Including Russian "truth serum" apparently.

“Yeah well you're lucky you got found by these guys and not anyone else. " Dustin continued pointedly, before turning his attention towards Gareth and Eddie both. "Thanks for watching our friends, but we've got them from here."

Gareth made a sort of unhinged, disbelieving noise.

“No, no you do not.” He declared, anxiety clawing at his gut at the mere thought of abandoning Steve to two children.

"I don't think you heard him." The girl stepped forward, braids swinging about her face as she lifted her chin and nailed him with a cold glare.

As if this entire situation couldn’t possibly get weirder, Gareth suddenly realized she had a helmet in her hands and knee pads on.

"He said we got this. So scram." She flicked her fingers out in a dismissive sort of "shoo" gesture.

"And leave my drugged cousin with his new girlfriend behind!?" Gareth challenged right back, emotions far too raw and frayed to care he was snarling at a little girl. "I don’t think so!”

"Cousin!?" Dustin bit out, sounding almost betrayed for some reason, at the same time Robin who'd been climbing to her feet with Eddie’s help, shouted; "I am not his girlfriend!"

Steve, clearly unwilling to entertain whatever fight was brewing, clapped his hands together.

"Yes cousin, Dustin. It's a type of family member." Steve said, after they all flinched and looked to him. He at least looked steadier on his feet this time, though Gareth still lingered nearby in case he took a wrong step.

"I know what a cousin is, Steve!" Dustin shot back.

“Then why are you acting like a lunatic?” Steve complained, and Gareth got to watch in real time as Steve pulled on the persona he often wore in high school down around him. “You said it yourself, we don’t have a lot of time. Worse, I don't know if anyone saw Gareth and Munson here with us.”

He jerked a thumb sideways in Eddie’s direction, not that anyone couldn’t figure out who “Munson” was.

“They stay with us until we’re out of this mall.” Steve finished, before he started towards the door.

One step he was Gareth’s cousin, drugged and vulnerable because of it.

The next he stood taller, talked smoother, took charge with an aurora that said he expected everyone to listen to him.

It was fake as hell, but it worked.

“I know you’ve got a plan Dustin, so spill it.” He commanded as he walked.

Dustin, despite all the squawking, did just that.

xXx

Of all the things Gareth had expected to see upon escorting their little ragtag crew out of the bathroom, groups of intimidating, mean looking assholes wasn’t on the list.

He found himself repeatedly nudging Eddie in the ribs, unable to take his eyes off what was clearly a checkpoint as he staggered to a halt.

It was one thing to be told people were after Steve and the “Scoop’s Troop” As Robin had jokingly named them.

It was another entirely to see the security guard directly in front of him look over a woman’s ID before apologizing to her, a sleazy grin matching his oily pony-tail as he waved her on.

They really were looking for someone.

Not someone, Gareth realized in dawning horror.

Them.

Robin apparently, came to the same conclusion seconds later, because she snatched Steve and Dustin’s arms both, hauling them backwards.

“Argue about Dustin’s address later, we need to find a different way out.” She hissed quietly as she tried to slowly reversed direction, movements still a bit sloppy.

She might have even gotten away with it, had Sleazy Pony-Tail not turned and made eye contact with Gareth right after she spoke.

His eyes swept over him, then to the rest of the group, freezing like a cat that had spotted its prey.

“Abort, abort!” Dustin sputtered, wheeling about on his heel.

Erica, whose name Gareth had learned when she kicked him in the shin after he asked why an actual infant was running around with Steve and Robin, pointed towards the escalators before she beelined over to it, ducking into the center and riding it down like a slide.

Something Eddied was downright delighted to copy.

Gareth might have enjoyed it himself, had he not been looking over his shoulder to see not one, not two, but four security guards giving chase--and gaining.

“Fuck, fuck, fuckikity fuck.” He heard Robin chant as she shot past, Steve planting himself at the top as he made sure everyone got down to the next level before sliding down himself.

"Do not let them leave!" One of the guards yelled to the others, accent clear as a bell.

"Holy shit that guy's actually Russian." Gareth found himself saying as he skidded across the floor and bolted after the others, Steve hot on his heels.

He had kinda expected the Russian thing to be some sort of drug influenced inside joke and not an actual, honest-to-God Soviet.

Which led to the question of why the fuck adult men in security uniforms had drugged random teenage retail workers.

Food workers.

Whatever the fuck one called a two people who scooped ice-cream in sailor costumes.

"There's another group up ahead!" Eddie yelped, swerving sideways and nearly taking Erica out while doing it.

Noise erupted ahead of them in the form of foreign shouting and loud, harshly barked commands to “Freeze!”

‘Oh hell no.’ Gareth thought wildly, as he caught the form of the giant fricken gun the guard closest to him held.

“Split up!” Dustin howled, and before anyone could comment about how bad an idea that was, Gareth found himself being yanked sideways.

Steve swore loudly behind him as Robin, who’d crashed backwards, pulled him in the opposite direction and in a second their group broke in two. Gareth, Eddie and Dustin going one way, Steve, Robin and Erica another.

"This isn’t happening." Gareth muttered, words made in a sort of pleading denial as he and Eddie turned the corner and immediately vaulted over the counter of an Orange Julius. “I smoked or drank or did something and this is a hallucination that is not. Actually. Happening.”

Dustin at least, was smart enough to dive around the counter instead of over it, sliding towards them on his knees.

Eddie quickly yanked him down to the floor in-between himself and Gareth once he was close enough to grab, one hand going over the hat to shove the kids head down.

Annoying or not, he was at least several years younger than them, and Gareth could practically feel Eddie’s protective instinct kick in as he kept his hand on Dustin’s head.

Together they tried to silence their breathing as the guards’ shouting continued on behind them.

What was worse than their noises though, was when they unexpectedly and suddenly, went silent.

Gareth’s breath felt far too loud as the stillness gained a suppressive weight, pressing down harshly against him and making it harder and harder to inhale.

‘Panic attack.’ He realized, thoughts a touch detached. ‘You can’t afford to have a panic attack right now.’

Not when it had a high chance of getting them all killed.

Slowly he moved his own free hand, placing it atop of Eddie’s, fingers gripping down in a way that was no doubt painful.

Eddie glanced over to him and Gareth thanked every single time he’d smoked way too much weed, because his best friend immediately clocked what was wrong.

Turned his hand over, so that Gareth could hold onto it atop Dustin’s hat.

It didn’t help with the knowledge that his very much still drugged cousin and his equally drugged not-girlfriend were also hiding somewhere, or that there was significantly more Russians than there where terrified teenagers (and one--whatever age Erica was.)

Flashlights cut shapes into the wall overheard, trailing along the Orange Julius menu. Quiet voices covered even quieter footsteps and Gareth had the sudden realization the probability of there being more than one guard carrying a huge gun, was very, very high.

Worse?

This part of the mall wasn’t that big. There were only so many places to hide, and as such, only so many places to look.

Death comes for everyone eventually, but Gareth hadn’t exactly expected it to show up before he hit twenty.

Not that they could do anything but wait. Pray to God and the universe and any other higher power he could think of to intervene, head pressed hard against the wood behind him as the small noises drew nearer.

What he hadn’t expected was for said prayers to get answered in the form of a of a fucking car being thrown into the Russian’s like bowling balls.

“Run!” Dustin shouted, and Gareth wasted absolutely no time in doing just that.

The only goal on his mind was to find Steve, get out, and then have a very long discussion about what the hell this all was, in that exact order.

#fun fic facts I kept writing Orange Julius as King Julian #so thats my new fake 80s store #Tagline can be “yay I’m a sacrifice!”#Pre steddie #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #gareth emerson #platonic stobin #gareth is eddies robin #gareth is steves cousin #gareth and steve cousin au #Poor Dustin is mad jelly steve has a cousin that isnt him #we will dig into that later #tw drugs #tw vomit #tw guns #tw panic attack #Steve and robin have already had their scene I just moved it back so he is aware she is a lesbian #I will make it clearer in the next part #Drugged steve has no personal boundaries and homeboy would not at this point consider the stuff wit heddie flirting with Robin ALSO #digs into later #that was gay steve #HELLA gay #the more robin gets to know steve the more shes convinced half the basketball team is queer af #0o0 fanfics #denial is a river in Egypt that Gareth is struggling to swim down

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luvhughes43 · 3 months

Text

so it goes | jack hughes

[journalist!au masterlist⭐️]

the previous part is linked here !

word count: 6.5k

jack hughes had thin curtains. you would think that a 22 year old millionaire would invest in good curtains, but alas here you were. the sun shone into his room, and you could do nothing but groan as rays of warm light illuminated your face and his.

you swore jack was a cat with how completely unbothered he was all the time. he’d happily lay and soak up the sun, not bothering to twist away from the light now encasing the room. you look over to your daughter, who slept exactly like her father. leighton was sprawled out on her back, completely content as the sun shone off her.

“you need better curtains,” you mumble, too awake now to fall back asleep. jack snores lightly in response, and so you move to drape one of leightons baby blankets over the top of her bassinet to help shield her from the light.

“where u goi-ing?” jack's speech is slurred, and you watch with butterflies as he stretches out across his bed and paws at the empty space where you once were resting. It felt wrong to want him. nothing had happened last night, and yet you were wanting him as if it were two years ago and you hadn’t broken up with him. you wish one of you had been smarter and been the first one to pick up the phone.

speaking of phones, you pick up yours only to see a slew of messages from friends. you click on claudia's first, and your heart immediately drops.

claudia: i think vivienne was talking about you and jack on her podcast??

claudia: idk she said Jack may have cheated and now ppl are going crazyy

claudia: this is genuinely insane when I catch vivienne…

you: did she mention my name?? did she say anything about leighton ?

you wander out into the kitchen, perching on an island stool with your lip between your teeth.

claudia: link

claudia: no she didn’t drop names but people are digging. some of jack's fans on twitter are putting the pieces together and speculating that you're the ex but it hasn’t gotten out yet.

you: wtf

as soon as you send the last message your phone rings with a call. “hello?”

“what are we going to do about this?” claudia's voice rings out through my speaker and you hastily turn the volume down.

“well, there's not much that I can do right now”

“uh, you can sue her ass! hello!”

“sue her for what?

“i don’t know… defamation?” you put claudia on speaker and then swipe up on the call. you do a quick search on twitter, and by screenshots and transcripts it's clear the podcast was solely focuses on jack and whether or not he cheated. “i’m not going to sue her,” you sigh and claudia groans in annoyance.

“why not?”

you take a second and pause, “well if i sue her everybody would know that i was the ex and also, i don’t even think there’s legal grounds for-”

“okay jack can sue,”

“i don’t think anyone needs to sue,” you reply, setting your phone on the countertop so that you can make yourself a coffee. hopefully jack had some pain meds because your head was starting to throb…

“i’ll talk to Jack about it, but things like this go away. i’m not going to risk leighton getting exposed to crazy fans and to be subjected to vivienne's publicity”

“vivienne has already damaged that little girl's life,”

“and so I'm not going to let her do anything else! if vivienne speaks on leighton then i'll look into my legal options. but no, i'm not going to let her get any more of my time. i need to focus on my daughter, and my family, so if some influencer wants to go on the internet spreading lies then so be it! i’m done with her. I can’t handle any more than i already have,”

claudia's silent on the line and for a brief second you're afraid she’s hung up the phone. “claudia…?”

“she’s going to get her karma. she can’t be let off the hook forever”

“oh, trust she will. but i’m not going to have a hand in it,”

⋆ ★

vivienne

liked by oliviajade, alisha, alix_earle, and 267 092 others

vivienne as promised… some exciting things are coming your guys’ way! follow viv212 to stay in the loop! 💆🏼‍♀️🍾

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oliviajade cant waittt!! <3

alisha youre stunnninggg ! cant wait to have you on the pod!❤️

user01 ahh so excited to see what u have in store viv!!

user02 we know what u did!!!

user03 ?

user02 don't question me.

claudiasphotos posted 2 years ago !

Liked by ynuser, jackhughes, and 581 others

claudiasphotos yn 📸🥂

tagged: ynuser

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ynuser love you!!! thank you for the incredible photos🫶

jackhughes ❤️‍🔥

newest comments

user04 jacks heart?? the tag?? is this his ex gf

user05 wait what

user06 claudia is yn’s friend! they both follow each other

user05 maybe yn just modelled?

user07 how tf did u guys find this acc? Im crying there's no way😭😭

⋆ ★

when jack found out about the podcast episode he was beyond pissed off. vivienne telling everyone that he was a cheater was one thing, but spreading those lies knowing that she helped keep him away from his daughter… he had never felt rage quite like it.

“i’m getting lawyers involved,” is all jack says to yn when he passes her phone back to her. “i don't want her speaking about us ever again,” jack’s voice is steady and firm.

“what are you asking the lawyers to do?”

“sue her, make her take down the video, i don't know they’ll find something,” jack rambles, pulling out his own phone from his pocket.

“i just want to make sure that she doesn’t speak about leighton,” you say, deliberately choosing not to say vivienne's name.

jack looks away from his phone to make eye contact with you. “i swear i’ll make sure of it,”

“thank you,” you respond simply, cradling your head in the palm of your hand. when was this nightmare going to end.

⋆ ★

“you’ve got to take the video down,” viviennes manager, louis reiterates for the tenth time.

“well, no” vivienne sasses as she scrolls through her social blade. “it’s pulling in insane numbers i’m not taking it down because of one complaint,”

“lawsuit, it’s a lawsuit vivienne” louis sighs, cursing himself for even taking influencers on as clients.

vivienne sighs dramatically. “i dated jack for months, the video should be my compensation”

“his lawyers want you to sign an NDA,”

“well i’m not signing or taking down anything,”

theres a tense silence for a minute before louis groans in frustration. “he doesn’t want you talking about his kids,”

“kid. singular. he only has the one,”

“can you stop being difficult? you’re going to lose more money than you’ll gain if you don’t just settle with jack. delete the video, and sign the NDA that his lawyers are going to send over,”

“but-”

“but nothing! your brand is dropping next week. if you delete the video now people will be tuned into your next moves,” louis explains his business plan, even though he’s mentally cursing vivienne in his mind.

“fine.” vivienne stubbornly admits defeat as she switches off her social blade and logs into her podcast channel.

⋆ ★

it was the beginning of december now, and jack’s schedule has picked back up now that he was back to playing. as well as the busy schedule, vivienne had finally signed the NDA jacks lawyers had sent over, and with her podcast episode scrubbed from the internet all was well for the moment.

on jack’s days off it wasn’t uncommon to find him at his ex-girlfriends place, which is why when y/n got off work she didn’t bat an eye that jack was chilling on her couch with their baby in his arms.

“did you pay the babysitter?” you ask absentmindedly as you shrug off your coat and let your work bag drop to the ground.

“yes i did! isn’t that right leighton? daddy paid the sitter?” jack coos, eyes never straying from the little girl in his arms. leighton giggles loudly, her little hands smacking at her dads cheeks who grins in delight.

“thank you!” you call out as you round towards the kitchen. “are you staying for dinner?”

jack gets up off the couch and settles himself in the kitchen. leightons little hand grips at her dads shirt, the other tugging on his finger. “do you mind?”

“no,” you reply softly, and when you look up from the pantry you catch eyes with jacks. you immediately feel delighted and delirious at the sight of him (looking handsome) with your girl resting happily in his hold. “leighton, do you want daddy to stay for dinner?”

“dada!” leighton squeaks, and both yours and jack’s heads whip towards the small girl.

“did you just say dada?” jack giggles, his face lit up with pure joy.

“dada!” she says again, wiggling in his grasp.

you gasp, “our baby’s first word!” and rush to be by jack’s side. he looks up at you fondly before using one of his arms to bring you closer to his side. “leighton! say it again, say dada!”

leighton doesn’t respond this time, just giggling happily at her parents' happy words and sounds of encouragement. “she said my name,” jack whispers sappily, and when you look at his face you see tears line his eyes.

“she knows who her daddy is,” you smile tearfully, leaning your head against jack’s who leans his against your chest.

“i’m so happy i get to know her,” jack’s voice is quiet as he gazes at his daughter. he still wasn’t over the fact that he missed your pregnancy and the first few months of leightons life, but hearing his daughter call for him certainly helps ease some of the sadness.

you don’t reply to jack’s comment, knowing that there’s nothing in the world that you can say that would erase any of the past. so instead you brush your hand through jack’s hair, and enjoy the happy moment.

⋆ ★

vivienne

liked by viv212, alixearle, and 137 008 others

vivienne so beyond excited to announce that my haircare brand viv212, is being released next friday! please follow the viv212 account for updates, posts, and product info before the first launch! i love you guys so much! mwah <3

tagged: viv212

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alixearle loveeeee

alexandracooper Cannot waitt!!

user08 AHH VIV!! <33

user09 saving up as we speak🫂

user10 another influencer brand… we do NOT care!!

⋆ ★

jack’s voice rings out through your phone's speaker, his face half in view as he brushes his teeth and gets ready for bed. you guys were just talking nonsense now - you had both put your daughter to bed a long time ago but jack didn’t get off facetime like you had expected him to.

you were both distracted which if claudia asks, is your excuse for staying on facetime with him so late. because really, you were catching up on work and it just so happens that jack was talking to you in the background.

“do you think if i started reading now then my brain power would double?” jack asks absentmindedly through a mouth full of toothpaste. he spits, “quinns doing it and he says he feels smarter. but i don't know,”

“i don't know about double… but it’d definitely help!” you tease, looking up from your mounds of documents to catch jack pouting at you.

“that's kind of mean!” he replies as he rinses off his tooth brush. “but whatever, what are you doing for the holidays?”

you watch silently as jack pulls his phone off the hotel bathroom counter, and tosses it on his bed. you stare at his hotel room ceiling as you reply, “my parents are going on vacation so i’m just gonna stay here. do you have any plans?”

jack picks up his phone - shirt noticeably gone - before he settles himself in his bed. “my family’s gonna fly in to jersey. quinn’s coming too. it’s just easier with our schedules and luke and i being here already,” he responds, and you nod along to his words. you missed the hughes family. they were so unlike your family growing up. their parents were present and not always gone for work, and it felt so nice to be around siblings who weren’t constantly at each other’s throats.

“that’s really nice,” you hum. “i have a few days off during your break. you should pick a date when we’re both free for your family to meet leighton,”

“mom’s so excited,” jack chuckles. “i keep sending her photos and videos but it’s never enough,”

“your mom’s so sweet,” you smile, leaning your head in your palm as you look at jack. “she texts me everyday just to check in and wish me well,”

jack smiles back, and you would pay any amount to know what he was thinking. “quinn’s excited too. luke keeps teasing him about how he met the baby first,”

you roll your eyes - that was such a luke thing to do - and before you can reply there's a sharp succession of knocks at your door.

“are you expecting someone…?” jack asks with a frown, and you shake your head.

“not that i know off… one second,” you walk towards the front door and if you had brought your phone with you you would have seen the worry and concern etched on jacks face.

you look through your doors peephole, before shouting a quick, “it’s just claudia!” which causes jack to visibly relax.

“just claudia” the woman in question mimics as you finally open the door. “who are you talking to,”

“jack,” you reply, and claudia rolls her eyes dramatically as she pulls her shoes off and wanders over to your phone.

she waves at jack, before telling him that you have to hang up. you barely get a good-bye in when she’s hanging up the call and turning towards you with a grin. “you're still talking to jack? at 9:30pm on a monday…” she teases, and takes your spot at the counter.

“we were putting leighton to bed!” you refute, ignoring the knowing looks your best friend was sending your way.

“uh-huh,” she shakes her head. “you’re unbelievable!”

“no i’m not! that’s my daughter's father! who, by the way… was her first word,”

“yah yah, if auntie c were easier to pronounce she’d call my name first,” claudia laughs before composing herself. “but seriously y/n, you guys broke up for a reason. you can’t just forget all about that now that you see him with the baby,”

“i’m not getting back together with him! it’s different now. we’re just friends,” you defend pathetically, knowing very well that you were already re-developing feelings for your ex.

“i just want you to be careful,” claudia stresses, grabbing a hold of your hands and pulling you into the chair next to her.

“i wasn’t in the right headspace last time. i was insecure and i-”

“he was still liking other people’s posts and staring down models babe, just be careful please,” claudia reiterates.

you nod, knowing that she was ultimately right. “we have better communication now. we’ve grown,”

“whatever you say!” claudia wraps up the conversation, before diving into the reason she actually came over. “okay, but i logged into my photography account and people are starting to connect the dots that you’re, well… you”

“what do you mean?” you question, picking up all of your work documents and placing them back in your bag.

“there’s a few instagram comments speculating. jack left a heart comment on one of my posts about you when you were still dating, and his fans have just found it now. do you want me to go private? delete the comments? i don't know,” claudia explains, pulling up her photography instagram and scrolling through the comment section of said posts.

you think for a minute, before responding simply, “keep it up, i don’t really care”. claudia nods and logs out of the account.

⋆ ★

drama.alert

liked by trevorzegras, and 11 913 others

drama.alert people have finally received their viv212 hair products after a massive delay in shipment, and unfortunately the product is causing their hair to fallout :/ despite being asked to comment, vivienne nor her team have responded to the accusations. not the best way to start a brand is it? what are you guy’s thoughts?

tagged: vivienne, viv212

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user11 whoever buys haircare from an influencer deserves it lowkey🤷‍♀️

user12 yikesss😬 looks like the products were rushed and there wasn’t a lot of time to get the formula right… i hope everyone who lost hair grows it back quickly. what a shame.

user13 i honestly can’t believe she hasn't spoken up yet. the people who bought her products were all fans so this is just soo disappointing. she better apologize and start refunding people soon or she’s going to lose A LOT of loyal fans and viewers.

user14 YUP! this! and did u see the pr reviews? lotss of acting going on lol. you can tell that nobody likes the products and it's obvious as to why! very messy and not good at all.

user15 trevor? wtf are you doing here??😭

user16 he stands on business

user17 trevor is so damn messy liking this im cryingg

user18 who tf is trevor?

user17 jacks best friend lol

user18 ohh that's so nasty..😭

vivienne

liked by mikaylajmakeup, tanamongeau, and 68 002 others

vivienne i hope u guys are loving all the products! let me know if u guys got anything💐

tagged: viv212

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viv212 😍😍✨

user19 yeah girl we did get products… AND NOW MY HAIR HAS STARTED TO FALL OUT!

user20 this is so out of touch. you’ve ruined so many peoples hair!! apologize!!!

user20 youve really shown ur true colours lol.

user21 posting this as if u haven't ruined so many of ur fans hair… wow..

user22 ignore all the hate viv! I know u just haven't seen the reviews! take all the time u need to respond <3

user23 bffr she's just money hungry and dgaf if she ruins her fans hair for money. shes weird af

⋆ ★

if you thought work was rough before - with all the bad articles you were given- you weren’t prepared for what was waiting for you on monday. after a peaceful weekend with your babygirl and your best friend claudia, the last thing you were expecting was to receive the worst case you’d ever been assigned.

“y/n, we need you to cover social media drama today,” your boss had said. there were a million headlines rushing through your mind, from small scandals to non-disclosure disputes, you hadn’t even considered you’d be assigned to write about… viviennes new brand.

“i mean, are you fucking kidding me?” you whisper-shout to claudia through the phone. you were pacing inside the girl’s washroom, disbelief written across all your features as you stare perplexed at the folder in your hand. “her brand is making peoples hair fall out. and i have to write about it… this is a joke. this actually can’t be real,”

“are you even allowed to write about her? with jack’s NDA and everything?” claudia asks from the bathroom stall at her work.

“i mean, it was just about leighton and my identity, and the whole jack cheating thing, i don’t think it applies to this,” you're beyond stressing. the story had to be finished by lunch and here you were, pacing the bathroom borderline having a panic attack. “i think i’m going to pass out,”

“okay breathe! breathe!” claudia's voice was loud and clear on the other line. “you’re just going to write the article with indifference, and everythings going to be fine!”

“indifference? she fucking kept jack from finding out about our baby and harassed me?” you seethe, stopping in front of the sink to splash your face with some water. “this article is going to be so biased,”

“regardless of your history, she's an asshole. i mean she’s literally causing people’s hair to fall out,” claudia states, flushing so her coworkers don’t get suspicious of her long bathroom break.

“i’m just going to write it and i’ll call jack once he's out of practice,” you settle, knowing there is really no way out of your work. even if you told your boss you had a history with vivienne and that there was going to be bias, they wouldn’t care. they just wanted the story posted so they’d garner as many clicks as possible since it was going viral right now.

“okay, good luck! love you,” claudia says her goodbyes, and with a quick i love you back, you hang up on your best friend and prepare to write.

⋆ ★

you had called jack after his practice, but with the articles deadline hastily approaching there was nothing you could do to delay writing the article. jack of course understands, offering a quick, “i’m sure she won’t read it anyway,” before he was called back into whatever a hockey job required on the daily.

once the article was published on the newspaper's website, and vivienne hadn’t outright harassed you, you take a deep relieved breath before continuing with the rest of your day.

⋆ ★

of course, vivienne the lurker had seen y/ns article about her hair products. she’s seen every little message and video about the whole situation, and so as tempting as it is to find y/ns number and send her a… compromising video of jack, she resisted. instead, she took her anger out on her manager who insisted she sign an NDA in the first place.

“you made me sign that stupid document! now i can’t even say anything about her! she's slandering my name and brand!” vivienne yells, fuming as she paces around her office. her manager, who was sitting on one of her chairs, rolls his eyes.

“you wouldn’t be able to say anything regardless of the NDA. you know you’re in the wrong with the whole, y/n-jack-baby situation. and plus, lashing out at journalists won’t do you any good when you post your apology,”

“it's not fair!” vivienne whines. “what am i supposed to do? she’s just going to get away with this?”

“your interns and i have worked up a statement for you to record. you should probably try and get ahead of this now before it's too late,” her manager finishes, placing a small packet of papers on vivienne's desk.

“whatever,” she huffs stubbornly, leafing through the small apology packet.

⋆ ★

after a rough two weeks, it was finally time for the rest of the hughes family to meet baby leighton. ellen and jim were beyond ecstatic, carrying armloads of gifts for their granddaughters first holiday season.

the family comes to visit after leightons nap, so for the grand reveal you sit the family down in your living room and bring your daughter to them. “awh… she’s so sweet!” ellen immediately starts to tear up as you slowly place the tired baby in her arms. “leighton baby,” she coos, finger tracing leightons little nose as the baby looks up at her. “she looks just like jack when he wa a baby,”

“she’s perfect, guys,” jim speaks next, gently holding little leightons hand in his larger one.

quinn sits quietly just taking in the sweet moment. he remembers the night jack first called him, panicked and lost about the whole situation. he was just so glad everything was working out for his younger brother, and to see jack become a father? it was surreal.

“i don’t think i want to let her go,” ellen laughs softly as tears spill down her face. jack discretely wipes away his own stray tears as he watches his parents fall in love with his daughter.

“that’s how i felt when i first met her too,” jack laughs weakly as he presses the corner of his sleeve into the corner of his eyes. you stand close behind him, rubbing his back comfortingly and he leans into your touch. every time you were reminded of what happened, you felt such a strong pang of guilt. like it was somehow your fault that jack didn’t get to experience the pregnancy, birth, and first few months of his baby’s life.

ellen passes the baby to her husband, and then slowly makes her way over to you. she holds out her arms, and you easily walk into them. “you did so good,” she says, and all of your feelings bubble to the surface as you softly cry.

“i’m really sorry,” you whisper to her and she only holds you tighter. “i should've tried harder - i thought that he didn't want to be in her life,” you gasp through your tears. ellen squeezes you and whispers reassuringly in your ear. she was always so kind to you and it made you feel sick sometimes - this family loves so thoroughly and effortlessly, something you missed from your own parents.

when your calm enough, you remove yourself from ellens arms. jim was now cuddling leighton and quinn was leaning over his shoulder. luke was teasing jack about something, having already met leighton a long time ago. when jack notices you're no longer hugging his mom, he grabs hold of your hand and gently soothes his thumb across the back of your hand.

you spend the rest of the evening in your apartment surrounded by family.

⋆ ★

ynuser

Liked by jackhughes, trevorzegras, claudia, and others

ynuser leightons first holiday season🥹🤍

tagged: jackhughes

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jackhughes to many more!❤️

colecaufield did you get the gifts i sent?

ynuser yes! leighton loves all the habs merch!

jackhughes but she loves the devils more!

trevorzegras cant wait to meet her!❤️

_quinnhughes lee is the cutest!❤️

claudia loveee😭😭🫶

user1 happy holiday sweetheart!

jackhughes added to his close friends!

⋆ ★

after viviennes less than impressive apology, her fans quickly gave up on the star. people who were only invested in vivienne for the jack hughes drama, grew bored, and angry fans were boycotting viviennes videos and social media platforms to show the influencer their disappointment with her behaviour. she lost thousands of followers, and she was absolutely pissed off.

behind the scenes, her friend emily was fuming. vivienne had promised her a shoutout on her pages in order to boast the girls social blade, and with all the recent drama vivienne kept pushing the dates. so, emily did what she thought was best.

REDDIT SNARK PAGE

user455595654: vivienne aiden sent nasty messages to jack’s ex girlfriend while she was dating him from random instagram accounts. here are some of the tamer ones lol. she drunkenly confessed to me one night and i got her to send me ss to keep as collateral incase she fucks things up as usual. so there's that

jack hated you so bad that he couldn't stand being a father to his child... and you know that he wants to be a dad in the future. gonna make him a dad and send u the pics. know ur worth nothing

he never wanteddd you... and know he doesnt want his baby

happy birthday to your baby! thought i'd send u a message since we know jack's not.

crazy that you get to look at your babygirl and know that she was abandoned. probably hurts

he's all up on me :)

⋆ ★

“did you want to take any of the clothes leightons got for your house?” you ask jack as you fold leightons laundry. jack’s family and friends went a little overboard with the gifts, and so now you were left with dozens of little onesies and clothes in various different team styles.

jack glances over at you and nods, and you can’t help but wonder what’s got him so distracted. he’s barely taken his eyes off his phone in the past half-hour, and even though it was none of your business you were starting to worry.

“do you have any preference?” you follow up, hoping to get at least a response.

“uh,” jack tears his eyes away from his phone and takes a deep breath. “i’ll uh, whatever you think,”

you sit in silence for a moment, thumbing quietly through your daughter's pile of clothes before deciding to question jack. “okay, what’s going on is there-”

“did uh, did vivienne…” you pale immediately at his words as your heart starts racing. “the messages she sent you uh,”

“what-”

“someone posted them online and i just - they got sent to me and i need you to confirm if they’re real of if someones just fucking around,” jack finishes shakily, and you sit in shock as he passes his phone over to you with unsteady hands.

there were so many messages, each taking you back to when you first received them. you remember the panic each time a new one came in, how you kept blocking viviennes accounts and how a new one always replaced it. you nod slowly, and jack breathes in.

“i’m going to- i-” he stutters, cluelessly trying to piece together a coherent plan.

you pass his phone back, and slowly focus your gaze onto jack. his hands are trembling, and his jaw keeps clenching as he scrambles to make sense of what he’s been reading. “why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?”

“i’m sorry,” your voice is quiet and jack has to strain his ears to hear you. the familiar pang of guilt wells up in you again and you so desperately wish that you had just told jack the full truth. that there were dozens of more messages, and that you had been receiving them for much longer than you had let on. that you received instagram follow requests from accounts impersonating your coworkers and friends in attempts to bait you to accept them. you knew vivienne was borderline stalking you, but you didn’t want to worry jack further. you witnessed his reaction to the first batch of messages, how he gagged and cried and blamed himself. you shouldn’t have hid the rest from him, but you didn’t want to be the one to expose him to all the hurtful things you were dealing with. you wanted to put an end to the past and to move on, but it seemed vivienne and whoever was in her close circle were determined to keep you hooked and battered.

“is there anything else? i want to know everything,” jack replies, his hands twisting together as he fidgets. you nod slowly, and jack looks sick with worry as you beckon him to sit down.

you take a deep breath before pulling out your phone. you still had all of viviennes messages saved in your dm requests, and you click on one of her burner accounts. “she uh, sent me these pictures after i had given birth,” you explain with a shaky voice. when you pass over your phone, jack sees all the lewd pictures his ex had sent to you. pictures of the two of them, cropped so you couldn't make out the faces but it was still so blindingly obvious. some of the pictures were tame, jacks back to the camera as he cooked with a simple caption “he’s so sweet to me❤️”. others not so much - dark lingerie, jacks hands wrapped around viviennes body and cupping her boobs. a picture of his head resting against her naked chest, her hand buried in his hair. it went on and on, all with annoying captions talking about how he was hers and that he didn’t want a family.

the worst picture though was of an unused pregnancy test sitting in the palm of viviennes hand, “he’ll love our baby!❤️” .

it took awhile to go through everything, and jack sat unusually quiet as he switches between different message threads. “i, i don’t know what to do,” jack admits after you had showed him everything.

“there’s nothing that you can do,” you reply simply.

“i didn’t get her pregnant,” he states, completely disregarding your reply. “she was just being cruel and trying to bait you or something-”

“jack i know-”

“and you know that if i knew about leighton i wouldn't have abandoned her, and those pictures, i didn’t know she was taking half of them let alone sending them to you, i just-”

you place a hand on jacks arm, silently urging him to stop explaining. “i know,”

“i’m just- learning about all of this for the first time-”

you let your hand trail down jack’s arm, and then you slip your hand into his. you squeeze twice, and then run your thumb along the width of his hand - a habit you picked up when the two of you were dating. jack squeezes back.

you don’t have time to say anything else before leightons soft cries spill out of the baby monitor. “da-da,” she whines, and when you turn to look at the monitor you see her thrashing around in her crib.

“i’ll get her,” jack says with a gentle tone as he squeezes your hand one more time.

you cuddle into your throw blanket, completely and mentally exhausted from the night's events when you hear jack’s soft voice through the monitor.

“i’m always gonna be here for you okay? dada will always be here,”

“i love you my sweet girl, always.”

⋆ ★

he had liked her. he had actually liked vivienne when they were together and the thought makes him feel sick.

jack had first met her two months after his breakup with y/n. it was way too soon in his opinion - but his teammates were relentless and tired of his moping around. so, instead of picking up the phone and dialing y/ns number he had agreed to meet the girl everyone seemed to think would be a good match for him. and she was at first, it was simple and there were no complicated feelings. jack didn’t promise to be anything, and vivienne was fine with that. there was no pressure to stay hidden, they went out and had fun. not that y/n didn't go out, but there was a clear difference between both girls and jack wasn’t mad about it.

that didn’t stop him from thinking about y/n though. he still had a photo album dedicated to their pictures together, and he still had her favourite music neatly organized in one of his playlists. he never deleted the list of her favourite things from his phone, never unpinned the addresses of the new museums, art galleries, and coffee shops they wanted to try. jack hadn't done anything at all, instead he let himself drift and he found some comfort in a girl he wasn’t sure he even understood properly because really, there were two sides to vivienne aiden and jack didn't have a strong grasp on either.

now that he was with y/n again, or at least raising their daughter together, he can’t help but feel the urge to get to know her again. he wanted to do everything a boyfriend would do, but the timing was always wrong. they were parents first now, and it was way too soon to start a relationship up again.

plus, they broke up for a reason. jack would be the first person to admit that he was in the wrong. liking other girl’s picks and lingering on girls in public… meanwhile he had the most amazing girl he’d ever met on his arm. he felt like such a fucking idiot, and ruminating on those facts on the drive back to new jersey seemed like a constant these days. his communication was awful too, not apologizing and not realizing the problems sooner. now he faced those consequences, driving an hour each way to spend time with his daughter. he should be there all the time, or they should be here - whatever.

traffic stalled, and jack sat in uncomfortable silence. no depressing country song would even come close to how awful he was feeling right now. then when he got home he’d be faced with luke and his family, all doped up on all the quality time they were fortunate enough to scrape together between everyone's busy schedules. he was so tired, and everything just seemed to keep piling up. he didn’t want to hide anymore, he was tired of vivienne dictating his life and making y/n feel awful.

therefore a week later with your permission and before jack boarded his flight for his roadie, he posted a simple but effective instagram post.

jackhughes

liked by trevorzegras, colecaufield, dawson1417, and 361 299 others

jackhughes baby’s first holiday season❤️

view all comments

trevorzegras does she love the duck teddies i sent?

colecaufield little love bug🐞

dawson1417 my best girl !

_alexturcotte dads a dad🫡

holtz_10 bring her to the rink when were back

_quinnhughes best duo💯

lhughes_06 tell everyone who her favourite uncle is (it's me)

nicohischier happy holidays!❤️🎄

user24 WHAT THE FUCK?????

user25 JACK?? DAD??? IM SO CONFUSED WTF

user26 this has to be a joke

user27 im crying so hard is he actually a dad?? this is my worst nightmare omfg

user28 congrats on the baby hughes! being a father is hard work but its rewarding!

user29 who’s the mom??? vivienne??

user30 no its 1000% his ex. look jacks name up on twitter and you’ll find all the threads!

user31 omg…

user32 im in disbelief i think i passed out what the ..

user33 this HAS to be yns baby omfg. If u compare the backgrounds of these photos it’s literall her apartment

user34 ? how tf do u know what her apartment looks like?

user33 it’s the same background in her friends pics of her

user34 that sounds genuinely psychotic im sorry!

user35 DAD JACK DAD JACK DAD JACK

everything had already gone viral with vivienne, and there was nothing else for jack to add to the public speculations aside from be truthful. so he worked behind the scenes to protect his family, and made it known he wasn’t hiding or playing anymore.

vivienne got what she deserved, and her career would surely be over with the massive amount of hate she received, and jack knew it too. the countless voicemails she left told him enough, and with every swift delete and the final press of the block button - he felt a massive weight lift of his chest.

#journalist au!#jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #nhl fic #quinn hughes x reader

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coldfanbou · 3 months

Text

Manor: Parting

The new part of the Manor series involves Umji and Taeyeon!

Length 2.1K

Umji x Taeyeon x Mreader

It was the day after. You sit in your room packing a backpack full of clothes and other things you might need. Nayeon was doing the same. You had pulled out a good amount of money from your bank account, and it would last you a couple of months if you were wise with it. Nayeon was doing the same. You’re both nervous; you don’t know exactly what Moonbyul could do for the two of you, but at the moment, you feel like it’s your only choice. Once everything is packed, you hide your backpack in a closet and head out into the manor, taking a walk around the area so you can remember it well.

“Young Master!” You hear from behind you the quick steps of the person, telling you it was Taeyeon. “I have something I have to talk to you about. Could you spare me some time?”

“Sure, what is it, Taeyeon?”

“You’ll have to excuse me, but it's something that we should talk about in private.”

“I- alright.” Taeyeon leads you to her room. She opened the door and stepped to the side to reveal Umji sitting on the bed. You hadn’t had too much interaction with her in the time she worked here. “What is this about Taeyeon?”

“You see, Young Master. Umji managed to overhear something about Yuna and Chuu that I thought you should be aware of. Umji, please go ahead.”

The young woman stood up, fiddling with her hands. “I overheard them saying something about Yuna not ending up pregnant and that they would need to try again with you, Master.”

“This is very concerning, Young Master. It seems like they may be trying to force a marriage.” A knock on the door interrupts Taeyeon; she goes to check it. Opening the door just a crack, she sees Moonbyul on the other side.

“Taeyeon, I finished my task. Is there…” Moonbyul goes quiet as she manages to spot you over Taeyeon’s head.

“Moonbyul, you can- can.” Taeyeon struggles to think of a task for Moonbyul when you manage to see who it is.

“She knows Taeyeon. You can let her in.” You grab the door handle and open the door for Moonbyul. You close the door behind her. “Well, Moonbyul. It looks like you were on the money, but I think Yuna took a different path. According to Umji here, Yuna just planned on getting pregnant to force a marriage.”

Moonbyul nods her head. “I guess that is the fastest way.”

The confused expression on Taeyeon and Umji’s faces is enough for you to explain the situation. “So Moonbyul heard something similar and saw Chuu heading in and out of my father’s office. We have come to the conclusion that it’s my father’s wish.”

“I see.” Taeyeon looks slightly concerned at the prospect. “I’ll talk with him.”

“No, Taeyeon. I’m planning on running away with Nayeon.”

“I don’t understand. If you’re running away with her, why not tell your father? You two could become a couple, and this would all stop.” Taeyeon makes a good point, but this wasn’t as much about marrying and more about wanting your freedom.

“Taeyeon, that’s not what I meant. I meant that we both want to get out of this life. I want my freedom; I don’t want to have my parents watch over me my entire life. Nayeon has her own reasons.”

“That’s his call, and I’m helping him,” Moonbyul says, stepping back into the conversation.

“I think I should leave,” Umji says as she approaches the door. Taeyeon holds her at the door. “Miss Taeyeon?”

“Young Master. I don’t think you should leave. I think we should have a longer talk about this.”

You sigh in response, “Taeyeon, I don’t think there’s anything you can do to keep me here.”

“Let’s just talk this out. I’d like you to leave us, Moonbyul.”

Moonbyul stands there for a moment, “What about Umji?”

“I need her to stay here for a moment. Please leave us. Now.” Moonbyul bows and leaves the room. “Young Master, please reconsider this. If you talk to your father, I'm sure we could get him to stop all this nonsense.”

You put your hand up. “Taeyeon, I just need to leave.” She looks to the floor, considering her options.

In a quiet voice, she says, “You wanted me, right?” Taeyeon slips the straps of her maid dress off her shoulders and forces it off her body, leaving her in her bra and panties. “You can have sex with me whenever you want. Umji, you want him to stay here too, right?” She whispers something into Umji’s ears, and soon, she’s stripping down, too. Your body reacts the only way it can after seeing the two beautiful women strip down.

“Taeyeon,” You whisper before she rushes in and plants her lips on yours. She places your hands on her ass and rubs your bulge.

“Let me do this, Young Master.” She pulls your cock out of your pants and strokes it gently. Taeyeon looks over her shoulder and nods at Umji. The young woman steps up to you and takes your cock from Taeyeon’s hand, continuing to stroke your shaft. Taeyeon’s kiss muffles your grunt. She starts stripping you of your clothes, starting with your shirt, before dragging you onto her bed to take your pants.

On her bed, Taeyeon continues to kiss you. You feel her fingertip move across your chest, but your focus is soon on Umji’s tongue as she drags it along your shaft. You groan from the pleasure. “Just stay quiet and enjoy this Young Master,” Taeyeon says before moving down your body to join Umji. You stare at them, watching each woman take their turn licking your shaft. Taeyeon cups your balls, moving them in her hand as she plants her lips on your cock and runs them along your shaft. On the other side, Umji is doing the same thing; her cute face and dirty act turn you on. “I’ll let you have it first,” Taeyeon whispers before kissing Umji’s cheek. You see the smile on Umji’s face grow as she moves toward the head and swallows it. Her small warm tongue playfully moves up and down over the head of your cock. Taeyeon strips off her remaining pieces of clothing and straddles your leg, rocking on it. Small moans escape her. She uses one hand to balance herself and uses the other to pinch her nipple. You can feel her nectar rubbing off against your leg. “We can take good care of you here. Always and forever.” She moans.

You switch between watching Umji and Taeyeon, unable to keep your attention on a single person. Umji begins bobbing her head, taking in half your shaft. She looks pleased with herself as she glances at you. You moan her name; Umji rubs the tip against the inside of her cheek. It’s soft and warm, but soon you feel something else. Umji reaches your pelvis, your cock down her throat. Her voice is garbled as she mouths something. You unconsciously move your hand down and caress her cheek, feeling the skin around her mouth pull as she smiles. Her tongue taps the underside of your cock as she slowly pulls back. She lets go of your cock with a pop, smiling to herself as she kisses the tip. Umji gently sucks on it, involuntarily making you thrust your hips. She’s surprised and giggles before going back to your cock. You’re getting close to your orgasm, your cock beginning to throb in the young woman’s mouth. “He’s cumming.” Umji mumbles for Taeyeon to hear.

“Go ahead, Umji. Drink it all; you deserve it.” Taeyeon replies before moving to your side. “Let her have it, Young Master.” She whispers into your ear. You give in, pouring your cum onto Umji’s tongue. A happy hum comes from Umji as she greedily drinks every drop. She laps at your tip as your orgasm comes to an end. Opening her mouth, Umji shows you how she drank it all with a smug smile. Taeyeon looks just as happy. She sits up and caresses Umji’s cheek. “I’ll take it from here. You can ride him after.” The two switch places. Taeyeon is between your legs, stroking your cock, getting it hard again while Umji kisses your neck and presses her body against yours. You feel her modest breasts rub against your side.

Once you’re hard, Taeyeon straddles you aligning herself with your cock. “We love you, Young Master.” She says before pushing your cock inside. Taeyeon throws her head back and moans as she slowly stuffs herself with your cock. “You’re so big. I feel so full.” You see a slight bulge where your cock is inside her. Taeyeon rests for a moment, nearly at her end, despite just putting it in. Umji sits up and attaches herself to Taeyeon’s nipple, running her tongue around her areola. “Ah, Umji, don’t do that. I’ll cum.” Taeyeon moans as she starts grinding on your cock. “It feels so good.” She mumbles as she slowly rises. You grab her hips and pull her back down. “Shit,” You feel Taeyeon’s walls tighten around your cock. She leans forward, biting her lip. Taeyeon’s body goes stiff as she hits her orgasm.

You didn’t realize much you missed being inside Taeyeon; you moan and start thrusting into her tightening pussy. “Y-young Master, wait,” Taeyeon mumbles as she becomes overloaded with pleasure. Your thrusts were driving her crazy; add in Umji teasing her breasts, and Taeyeon was becoming lost in pure bliss. Taeyeon struggled to keep herself up as she felt your cock being slammed inside her. Taeyeon was being pushed toward another climax. “I’m cumming again!” Taeyeon cries out. You hold onto her waist, continuing to piston in and out of her as she cums again. Her tight pussy pushes you slowly toward your orgasm, but you hold on for now.

Umji detaches herself from Taeyeon, watching as her superior collapses on top of you after her orgasm ends. “Let me rest, let me…” Taeyeon mumbles on about needing to rest. You lift her off your cock and move her to the side. Umji immediately replaces Taeyeon, rolling over you. Her back was to you, you could feel her soft ass against you, and your cock was trapped between her thighs for the moment. She rubs her legs together, making you groan. Umji’s thighs were beyond soft. You hold onto her waist and begin thrusting; after a minor adjustment, you’re cock in rubbing against her slit. Umji releases a small whine; she reaches up and plays with her tits as she watches your cock slide between her folds.

“Put it in, please, Master. I want your cock.” Umji’s pleas are heard, and you give her what she wants. You slide your cock inside; Umji is tighter than Taeyeon. You both moan loudly. Umji turns her head toward you, and you do the same, kissing her as you begin thrusting. Your hands dig into her soft flesh as you push every inch of your cock inside her. Umji moves one hand down, rubbing her clit. “Harder Master, Harder.” Umji whines. You drive your cock deep inside Umji with every thrust; you can see her body jiggle when you put a lot of strength into it. Umji grabs one of your hands and moves it up toward her breast. Knowing what she wants, you squeeze; you find her nipple between your fingers and try to pinch it. She holds your hand over yours, helping you. Umji’s whines continue to flow as she feels your cock begin to throb inside her. “Master! Cum inside me, please!” You feel Umji walls wrapping around your cock, rubbing every part as she nears her climax.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum.” You groan. You pull Umji down, impaling her on your cock as you cum. She feels your thick baby batter pour into her. Umji rests against you, her hand slowly rubbing her clit as she comes down from her orgasm.

“Master’s cum feels so nice. It’s warm,” Umji mumbles blissfully. You kiss Umji, her lips melting into yours. You slip your tongue inside her mouth as your hands wander her body, running over her smooth skin. “Master can use me whenever he likes,” Umji giggles. You stay inside Umji, letting her be a cockwarmer as you look over at Taeyeon, who’s fallen asleep. You think to yourself about how you still need to go. You decide you’ll at least leave her a note. For now, though, you choose to enjoy Umji for a little while longer.

#kpop smut #male reader #m reader #gfriend smut #viviz smut #umji smut #taeyeon smut #snsd smut

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idksmtms · 3 months

Text

Golden Globes - Cillian Murphy x reader

Summary: Written from the perspective of press and viewers of the golden globes; how cute are Cillian Murphy and his girlfriend Y/n L/n?! From the red carpet to his acceptance speech, look at what a mesmerising couple these two make!

Word count: 2,250

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, very slight profanity, mostly just fluff (please let me know if I missed any)

Disclaimer: This is written purely for fictional purposes and for the sake of writing. No disrespect is intended to the real people portrayed/concerned in this scenario.

AN: Inspired by Yvonne and Cillian actually being the cutest couple ever at the Golden Globes. Also, if you catch the sneaky Succession reference: mwah! Edit: Just watched an interview clip where he says everyone calls him Cill as his nickname and I will be gratuitously using that from now on.

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

Part 1: Red Carpet

“And next to arrive onto the red carpet is Cillian Murphy! He’s a favourite to win the Golden Globe for Best Actor in a Drama Motion Picture, and I mean, rightly so, he killed it in Oppenheimer!”

“Right?! And I have to say, whoever styled him tonight knew what they were doing, because mmm chef’s kiss right there.”

“For real, but knowing him he probably grabbed an old suit out of his closet and put it on, hahahah.”

“I bet he wishes, but Y/n would never let him, and there she is! Oh look how stunning she looks! For all our viewers who are unaware, that’s Y/n L/n, Cillian Murphy’s girlfriend and the other half of our favourite couple!”

“Is that a vintage Schiaparelli?! Um, someone did not come to play. Aw, look how cute they are, he refuses to let go of her hand. I want a man like that.”

“The way he smiles at her?! You can really tell they love each other, and awwww she’s blushing!!! You guyssssss, I can’t handle this.”

“Hahahah, she’s forcing him to go out and strut his stuff, how sweet. That’s the definition of a supportive partner right there, always wanting you to have your moment to shine.”

“Honestly, and like, I know we’re supposed to be watching Cillian but guys look how SHE watches him. That’s true love right there, and no one can convince me otherwise.”

“D’you remember that interview where he talked about the little gifts she gets him at the end of each of his movies?”

“Oh my god yeah, that was adorable, she makes him something small to remember each of his movies, like she knits or crochets or crafts something for him right?”

“Yeah, exactly, well apparently, since this was his sixth movie with Nolan, she made the little tokens for all the producers and like the lead team. I was in TEARS when I heard, because who is that sweet? Like who is THAT sweet to their partner’s whole team?”

“I didn’t know that, oh my god, I love her even more. No wonder Cillian loves her, I get it, I fully support it.”

“Ok, seems like Cillian’s done getting his pictures taken and- aw! He’s looking for her! Cillian, bestie, she’s right there, ok ok ok, they found each other. Look at that hug!”

“A man who adjusts the train of your dress like that to help you walk easier??? That is a man worth having, and Cillian Murphy is clearly the best man. Gosh look at the way she leans into him when they walk, and he’s just rubbing her back all soft and sweet, aaaaa I think I’m gonna melt.”

“Oo! Ok, they’re going for interviews and the next person to come up is…”

Part 1.2: Interview

“Hi Cillian! How are you feeling tonight?”

“I’m doing well thank you, a little nervous I guess, how are you?”

“I’m great! Having a lot of fun here at the Golden Globes! How did you enjoy the red carpet? Any chance to meet others yet?”

“Yeah, it’s grand, very… opulent, heh, and no! Unfortunately I haven’t had a chance to properly greet anyone yet, but I’m sure when we get inside I’ll have plenty of time for that.”

“Alright, let’s talk about your movie for a bit, how does it feel to see all the recognition it’s getting?”

“It feels deserved, you know? Everyone worked so hard on that film and put in a hundred and ten percent and it feels like people have really noticed it and seen not only the talent but the effort the team put in.”

“Were you expecting such resounding fame for the movie?”

“I mean, I definitely knew at least some people would watch it because Chris made it, hahaha, and people have recognised how amazing he is, but I guess you never really know how popular a movie is going to be until it comes out. But it’s truly amazing to see how it resonated with audiences.”

“You’ve spoken in past interviews about the importance of a strong and accepting support system for people in this line of work, how did such an intense movie fit into your life?”

“I mean, I treated it like I treat all my roles - it is a job at the end of the day - but it’s always great to have my family willing to put up with odd schedules and having to be away from home for long periods of time. My girlfriend, heh, she’s actually really great with this stuff. She always makes sure to call me while I’m away, she comes to visit as often as she can, and she just has this way of making anywhere feel like home, you know? Regardless of where I am, or what I’m doing, I can count on her, and that’s probably the best part of my life. It’s a really bad habit of hers but she stays up late with me if I have an oddly timed call or interview or whatever, just to be there with me.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet! It’s amazing the way you talk about her, she sounds like a great person!”

“She really really is. I mean, there’s some people out there who are just blessed with the biggest hearts and even just their presence can make life better, you know? And that’s her. I don’t know where I would be without her in my life to be honest with you.”

“Oh how cute! Well, we’ll let you go, tell your girlfriend how much we love her, and good luck with your award tonight!”

“Thank you.”

Part 2: The Main Event

“And the Golden Globe goes to… Cillian Murphy!” You let out a rather unholy shriek that you were sure would be caught on camera and posted all over, but you were too excited to care. You jumped up, grabbing Cillian by his shoulders and pressing your lips to his mouth and face, over and over until there were lipstick smudges across his nose.

“You did it Cill! You did it,” you whispered, rubbing at his face to try and wipe away the lipstick. He had the lightest red splotches across his nose and cheek but they mixed into the flush on his skin so you let him be after a moment. Your face hurt from smiling, your whole body buzzing because finally, finally, he had gotten the recognition he had long deserved.

“Oh boy, my first question, do I have lipstick all over my nose? Ah, I’m just gonna leave it. Um, I-I knew the first time that I walked on Chris Nolan’s set that it was different. I could tell by the level of rigour, the level of focus, the level of dedication, the complete lack of any seating options for actors, heheh, that it was-that I was in the hands of a visionary director and master. I wanna thank Chris, and Emma, for having the faith in me for-for twenty years, and six feckin pictures! So, thanks so much. Um, one of the most beautiful and vulnerable things about being an actor is that you can’t do it on your own, really, and we had the most incredible ensemble cast in this movie, it was magic, and some of them are here today. Emily Blunt, Robert Downey Jr, Matt Damon, Gary Oldman, thank you for carrying me and holding me through this movie. Um, thank you to- thank you! Uh, thank you to Dara Langley, and everyone at Universal for believing in this movie from the very beginning. Uh, oh! To all my fellow nominees - if you’re Irish or not - you’re all legends, stunning work guys, I salute you. Um, to all my reps, all my team, uh thank you so much you’re the best. To my girlfriend, you are the light of my life, the love I couldn’t live without, thank you for always being there. To my family, I’m the luckiest man, I love you, thanks so much guys!”

Part 3: Top Ten

“Hello everyone and welcome back to the ATN News youtube channel! Today we are looking at our top ten favourite Cillian Murphy moments from the Golden Globes and spoiler alert: they all have something to do with his girlfriend because, let’s face it guys, they’re our favourite unproblematic power couple! Just a reminder that we did similar videos for some other celebrities so you can check them out on our channel but let’s get started!

Number 1: When they were walking into the hall and he held her purse for her! This is a personal favourite because I love someone who notices the little things, and the fact that he just kinda slipped it from her hands?? Cuteness overload.

Number 2: This one is my personal favourite. During the break, the camera was just kinda moseying around and it caught them whispering to each other and just laughing. Look at how lovey dovey they are, leaning against each other, just whispering in each other’s ears. I really wanna know what they’re saying because I’m sure they are the most hilarious people on earth, but it’s also so intimate that I don’t wanna disturb them, you know? And she’s holding his hand in her lap aaaa! I have to move on otherwise I’m just gonna sit here and watch this all day.

Number 3: Ok, at number three we have the couple’s red carpet glam moment! After getting some solo pictures taken, Cillian had Y/n walk the carpet with him and they slayed. I mean they slayyyyyed. Their outfits were amazing, their chemistry was amazing, their poses were amazing just- amazing. The fact that she did the little heel kick in one of the pictures?? Iconic. Cillian, Y/n, if you guys are looking for recommendations I would frame the picture where Y/n’s kissing the air just before Cillian’s cheek, it’s funny and it’s cute.

Number 4: This is a moment from an interview he gave where they asked him about life with Y/n, take a listen.

“You know she’s just the best. We both have our own strengths at home and I think they fit together so well and it just works perfectly. Like, I’m terrible at D.I.Y. Just absolutely hopeless, and good or not, she’s tenacious. If she starts a project for the house, no matter how hard, she will learn what to do and she will finish it. It’s inspiring honestly. Just every little thing she does inspires me.”

Number 5: Halfway through and this might also be my personal favourite (agh I can’t choose!). When Y/n fed Cillian something from her plate?? Guys, when I saw that, I kid you not I almost melted. She just gently taps his shoulder, lifts her fork to his mouth, and feeds him. Was he too nervous to eat?? Did she notice and make sure he ate something?? Or is that just something they do? Like if you walked into their house at a random dinner time she might just randomly feed him something?? Either way, it was cute and I bet they make everyone sick with their love and I’m here for it.

Number 6: Another simple one, but when he sat back with his arm over her chair? He just kinda leaned to the side and put his arm on the back of her chair and she just kinda shifted closer into his side- and they didn’t even stop their conversations with other people! They just did it! Being that intune with someone is just nghdhm. I have no words.

Number 7: Alright, so some fan pics came out after the event of the couple leaving the venue, and look at this, he’s carrying her shoes for her!!! The pictures are a little grainy, but you can clearly see him holding the heels that she was wearing during the event while they walk to the car. She’s even carrying his award for him, what a bunch of cutiepies!

Number 8: Another one from the fan pics - and another personal favourite (leave me alone) - is those cuties dancing on the street! I think it’s near their house and the pictures capture him twirling her, and they’re both laughing so much and then they’re hugging and Cillian’s just swaying her (all while holding that Golden Globe mind you) and they just look so happy and in love. Brb, I need something to tackle this overdose of cute.

Number 9: Our second last moment is when Y/n kissed Cillian right before he went up to accept his award! Just, the scream, the kiss, the lipstick on his face, all of it is so perfect. And the fact that he left it on his face while giving his speech? Our king, have no shame, proudly show her love!

Number 10: And of course, the final favourite has to be Cillian’s speech. He was funny, he was gracious, and honestly? It was perfect. If my boyfriend called me the light of his life in a room full of famous people, on a live broadcast that like millions of people are watching, I would probably just start proposing to him at that moment. Like he really said “the love I couldn’t live without” can you imagine that kind of devotion?! I want that.

Anyway! Thanks for watching our top ten Cillian Murphy moments. Don’t forget to like and subscribe!”

AN: Yes, I did transcribe his whole acceptance speech. No further questions.

#cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian x reader #cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x y/n #cillianmurphy #cillian #cillian fic #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x reader #oppenheimer #christopher nolan

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mimisempai · 8 months

Text

Although this post focuses on the argument about Gabriel, I think this little passage just before the comedy of the Crowley/Gabriel encounter is crucial.

It is Crowley who first affirms the "we."

He could have said, "Jim, who's Jim?" but instead he asks, "Do WE know a Jim?"

"If that isn't fierce protectiveness...

And it's normal, Crowley saw with his own eyes what Gabriel was capable of, what he was going to do to Aziraphale, so of course he reacts that way to Aziraphale's blindness.

They're both stubborn, and I'm thinking about what Nina will say in the last episode:

"You're the hard one who can never trust anyone again, and Mr. Wherever He Is is the soft one who still believes in magic."

That's exactly how it plays out.

Crowley does not trust Gabriel, with good reason, but does not explain all the reasons.

Aziraphale is blinded by his empathy.

They don't really talk.

They don't listen to each other.

The proof:

The "exactly" conversation

"Gabriel has no friends"

Crowley: Exactly, and that's normal. Considering what he's done (not trusting).

Aziraphale: Exactly, that's why we have to be his friends (believes in magic).

I remember when we saw the sneak peek, we all saw that little gasp before Crowley said "peaceful.

This existence is more than important to him, it's "precious." That's a very strong word. Something precious has a very high value (emotional, moral); it's something that we are very attached to, that we hold very dear. So of course he sees Gabriel as a threat that could destroy that precious existence.

I've been thinking a lot about the fact that Crowley is speaking in the first person, but I realized that I still hear that "we" when he says "the existence I've carved out for myself here. Crowley means "the existence I carved out for myself here, with you."

And he gets angry when Aziraphale emphasizes the "we" because the angel has already made up his mind to help Gabriel. Aziraphale has decided what to do and expects Crowley to follow.

Aziraphale says "we" but acts as "I" and Crowley says "I" but thinks "we".

And the more I watch it, the more I see it as a foreshadowing of the last scene of the season.

One more time.

They're not talking to each other.

They're not listening to each other.

And the rest of the conversation changes nothing. Personally, I find Aziraphale a little manipulative, but it's also his last attempt to get Crowley to join his cause. Which, as we know, will come to nothing. (for now)

“To go?”

“Oh, right, this is how you wanna do it?”

“No, I would love you to help me. I’m asking you to help me take care of him. But if you won’t, you won’t.”

“Yeah, I won’t.”

To end on a positive/fun note.

We've seen Crowley throw his glasses around carelessly a few times.

Now, when I'm angry and I'm looking for something, if it's not in its usual place, I'm going to have trouble finding it.

Crowley is angry right now, but he knows exactly where his glasses are. Because they're in their usual place. He has a place for his glasses in the bookshop. (Probably my wishful thinking again, but let me dream).

Breakfast's ramblings, it's only my messy thoughts, as always bear with me ^^'

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #anthony j crowley #Mr A. Z. Fell #michael sheen #david tennant #😈😇#good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x arizaphale

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too-much-tma-stuff · 11 months

Text

Never Love Another

It was no secret that when Jason came back he came back wrong. The violence and pit rage were the most obvious ones of course, but now that it had faded other little things had started to surface. He had noticed this deep loneliness and homesickness for something he couldn’t remember or name. He didn’t know what to do about it besides, well maybe try to find someone who could sooth the loneliness. But it wasn’t working, if it wasn’t for how bad he wanted a romantic connection he would have thought he was aromatic now because he never, Never felt a spark at all, with anyone.

He actually talked to Dick about it, and let him talk Jason into therapy, but that didn’t help, and when Tim found out about it the paranoid little shit started doing tests. And that was how fucking Bruce found out, and he was even more paranoid so they would not believe it was a coincidence or anything and more tests were done. No answers were found until Batman called in a favour from JLD, Jason tried to insist it wasn’t worth it but Batman said his happiness was the most important thing, which made Jason shut up and make a face like he’d bitten into a lemon.

Now he was just trying to avoid admitting that they were right. “What the fuck do you mean cursed?!” Jason demanded from Constantine who shrugged and lit a new cigarette from the butt of the last one.

“I don’t know mate,” He said with a shrug, taking a drag. “While you were dead you must have pissed off some pretty powerful bastard because it’s Not a petty curse either, not the sort of thing I or Zatanna can break. Looks like it’s to ‘never love again’ or something like that, I don’t know it’s not exactly written in words.” He explained and Jason dropped his head into his hands with a groan.

Of course, why wouldn’t this happened? Honestly though as the literature nerd he was he had to think whoever had cursed him must have been of a similar temperament, given how melodramatic is was. He wished he could remember what the fuck he had done to get cursed like this?

“So how would we break the curse?” Batman asked, ever solution oriented.

“Don’t know Bats,” Constantine admitted with a one shoulder shrug. “I think you’d have to find whoever cursed him and convince them to lift it. They’re a seriously powerful denizen of the Infinite Realms so we could try a summoning but there’s no guarantee that is would work, and if not you’d have to go to them which would be veeery risky. I’m not sure it’d be worth it honestly, I mean it’s a bit of a blessing isn’t it? Not like our lifestyles really lend to romance,” He snickered and everyone ignored him.

“How long will it take to arrange a summoning,” Nightwing demanded with a frown, why he had to be here too Jason didn’t know but… he was privately a little grateful that he was.

“Mmm A couple of weeks, we have most of the stuff required and the unique ingredients aren’t that hard to find,” the magician hummed thoughtfully. “I’ll remind you, there’s no guarantee that it’s going to work,” he reminded and even though Jason hadn’t looked up he could practically sense the twin scowls Dick and Bruce were shooting John.

“We’re going to try it,” Batman growled and Constantine hummed.

“Sure, whatever you say, I’ll start setting it up.”

------

Those two weeks were plenty of time to panic about who it might be, what Jason might have done to cause this, and what the being might do if they answered the summons. They had a lot of preparations to do, but when Jason tried to say they shouldn’t do this Bruce and the others insisted that they needed to know ho had it out for Jason if just in case they decided to cause more problems. There was discussion about if Jason should be present, but he really wanted to be if this was happening, he wanted to see the monster that had cursed him.

Constantine and Zatanna were both there the day of, as well as Batman and Nightwing, and superman, just in case things went horribly wrong. The spell was… stressful for Red Hood, the portal it opened made him feel like he was staring into the Lazarus pits again, even if it was missing the feeling of rage.

It felt like they were all holding their breath for a few long minutes waiting to see if the summon would be answered. Jason was just starting to think that no one was going to answer when a white booted foot stepped through, followed quickly by the rest of the body.

Jason blinked, staring uncomprehendingly at the being that had answered the summons, not because they were some incomprehensible monster, but for the opposite reason, because they looked so human. Not normal, their ashen skin, pointed ears, and white hair that disregarded gravity, made sure of that, but he looked human other then that. A head or so shorter then Jason, lean and agile looking with unusually wide hips and soft curves for a man. His ears were pierced three times, two having studs like planets and a set of dangly ones shaped like a sun and a moon which glinted in the light of the glowing crown on his head. It looked like ice that had trapped the northern lights within them, it was beautiful, it took his breath away.

He had a vague feeling that the others present were talking, but Jason and, it seemed, the spirit, were not hearing them. Jason couldn’t tear his gaze away from the creatures Lazarus green eyes, why did he feel so familiar.

“Jay,” The being breathes, a bright smile spreading across his face, revealing little fangs that shouldn’t have been so adorable. “How did you, you shouldn’t have called me, I don’t… You don’t remember me do you? You shouldn’t,” He breathed, the smile dropping as the initial joy at seeing Jason overtaken by worry.

“We want to know why you cursed my son!” Batman shouted, suddenly cutting through the odd, tunnel version they’d both been trapped in and sending them both reeling. Jason had been leaning forward and ended up stumbling.

“Oh,” The creature sounded, his brows furrowing as Jason finally looked around and noticed how Constantine was cowering.

“Batman! Don’t yell at the fucking king of the Infinite Realms!” Constantine practically squeaked. The king?! How had Jason pissed off the king?! “We’re so sorry for disturbing you your Majesty, please don’t destroy us,” the wizard said, sounding like he was on the verge of a panic attack.

The being still in the circle cackled and crossed his legs under him, sitting on air at the odd cape that looked like it was made of the night sky billowed behind him. “Don’t worry I’m not planning on it, honestly, I am happy to see you again Jaybird,” He said with a soft smile, his gaze going back to Jason like he wanted to drink him in. “You’ve grown so much pretty-bird, are you happy? Do you like being alive again?” He asked worriedly. “You’re always welcome back-“

Nightwing read that as a threat that this supposed King was going to kill Jason again and yanked him back, standing between Jason and the stranger, even though he was shorter and slimmer then Red Hood. “He’s not going anywhere! Why did you curse him?” Nightwing demanded again.

“It wasn’t a curse, it was a price,” Phantom said with a frown. “I would let him go, but not to love another.”

“Love, another?” Jason asked this time, his voice harsh and soft. God how his heart ached, why couldn’t he remember something that made him feel so much longing and pain?

“Another,” Danny said, his voice softening again. “While you were in my realm we were… Close, very close. But you couldn’t let go of life, you weren’t ready to give yourself to me, not fully,” Danny bit his lip for a moment. “It hurt, but I only wanted what was best for you Jay, so if you had unfinished business… well, I let you leave. I did! I let you go, but-but maybe I was selfish, I was going to be waiting decades for you and-and I couldn’t stand the idea of waiting that long only for you to have fallen in love again with someone in life and, even after dying and remembering me, choosing to stay with them! So that was the deal, you get to live again, but only if you don’t love again, and you come back to me when you’re done. You agreed.”

There was a long silence as everyone processed what the king had said, it was Constantine who reacted first, rounding on Jason. “You dated the King of the Infinite Realms!?” He demanded, flabbergasted.

“Ugh, just call me Danny, I’m the king sure but I don’t care much for the title,” The bring in front of them corrected with a grimace.

“Danny,” Nightwing said, holding out his hand in a sort of placating gesture. “Can you… change the price?” He asked uncertainly.

“NO!” Danny said instantly, his voice echoing in a way that made those present flinch. “No, the deal still stands. I let him leave my kingdom, but I won’t completely give him up. I can’t, I can’t,” Danny said and Jason could swear he saw Danny’s eyes glimmer with tears.

“It’s alright,” Jason said, softly as he could, Danny’s pain called to him in a way he couldn’t explain. “It’s just, I’ve been lonely, I’ve felt like I’ve been missing something since I came back. I thought it was love, but now I think, I think it’s you. I’ve been homesick, for You,” He said, stepping closer again and holding out his hand. John yelped when Jason broke the circle, but he was being ignored.

Danny’s eyes widened in shock, then welled over with tears as he reached out and took Jason’s hand, his feet landing back on the ground as he stepped closer. “I’ve missed you too Jaybird, I’ve missed you like you wouldn’t believe,” He practically whispered. As he stepped over the line a white ring ran up and over his body, leaving a- well, for all appearances a human man with similar features and inverted colours, maybe a little younger then Jason. “I’m sorry you’ve been lonely, but I wanted to let you live your life. If you want, I could visit more? I would be happy to put in the work to, start over, let you get to know me in this life?” He laced their fingers together, taking Jason’s other hand as well, standing chest to chest and looking up at him through dark lashes, framing beautiful clear blue eyes.

“I would love that,” Jason breathed. Startled by a sound of disbelief behind him, he’d forgotten Nightwing was there and he glanced back. “What? It solves the problem of me being unable to love, it turns out I was just trying to love the wrong people.

#dead on main #danny phantom #Jason/Danny #jason todd #batman #dc x dp #nightwing #fanfiction #john constantine #Jason and Danny fell in love while he was dead #Danny made a compromise #ghost king Danny #this isn't edited #I'll edit it and post it on AO3 later

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sataraxia · 10 months

Text

jerk.

earth42!miles x fem!reader

summary: you haven't heard about him for a whole week, what a 'jerk'. (wc: 3.9 k, kinda short and a dumb blurb)

warnings: cursing, a kind of suggestive? line at the end.

a/n: it's the first time i publish something so maybe it's kinda bad idk, and also this isn't angst miles is actually the best man ever pls i just wanna hug him. aand english isn't my first language so pls pls let me know if i spelled something wrong!

"I heard that kiki was invited to prom in the most romantic way possible, I'm so jealous."

"oh god, yeah, I wish I had a boyfriend like hers, or well, just a boyfriend".

You were biting your nails right now, looking everywhere but at your friends, what a topic, huh?

“hey, your boyfriend already invited you?”

And there was the question, you just looked lazily at them “uh, sure”

The truth was that you hadn't been talking to Miles for a week or so, and this was exactly why.

You always understood that maybe he didn't like a lot of things about high school, and you never complained about it, but this time, it was something important to you, and he didn't seem to care.

"baby, it's just a dance, I don't understand why you're acting like it's such a big deal." he said while not even looking at your direction.

"maybe it's a big deal that you're being a jerk about this."

Yeah, that conversation didn't end well, you haven't heard from him since.

The thing was, you don't do a lot of couple things publicly, and it's slowly starting to affect your mind, maybe he didn't want to be seen with you, or someone couldn't see him with you, the thought alone causing you to shiver.

You spent the rest of the day distracting yourself with your friends and your homework, secretly waiting for a message from him to appear on your phone.

It did, but definitely not what you expected.

miles <4: 'i’m back in town, wyd?'

Oh.

You didn't know whether to be happy that he wasn't ignoring you, or angry that he didn't give the last discussion more than a thought.

You decided not to let it go this time, and not even look at the text.

Of course, that was stupid, but so were you.

It wasn't more than two hours, he was already knocking on your window, and once you let him in, he just looked at you, deeply.

“wanna’ tell me what’s up with you, darling?”

That was not affectionate, he was annoyed, mocking, you realize.

“nothing.” you couldn’t look at him when you were lying, he knew that.

“i thought you were the one who opted for that communication bullshit, cmon.”

“where were you?”

“work” the tone was defensive, almost secretive, it was always like that when he mentioned something about the prowler, you never talked a lot about it.

“you could have told me”

“thought you didn't want a jerk talking to you?”

“yeah, but you’re still my boyfriend, Miles, we argued, and I didn't hear about you for a whole week.”

“sorry.”

That's what made your veins boil the most, he was never mean, disrespectful, or a jerk.

He always knew when to say sorry or when he had done the wrong thing, that meant he didn't really care about the problem that kept popping into your head, he didn't see it like a problem at all.

And that only made you feel dumber, maybe you were overreacting, again.

“it’s okay, i just missed you”

That's all you had to say for him to look at you with those eyes that made you feel like the most special woman on earth, that made any insecurity disappear just as the space between your bodies did.

“i missed you too.”

Of course, he stayed the whole night with you.

The next afternoon, when you entered your room, you saw a package on your bed, with a note on top of it

“I couldn't go to prom if my girl wasn't wearing my color, be at your door by eight o'clock.

luv ya, miles.”

Inside the package was a beautiful dress, vibrant purple, obviously.

This was definitely the man of your dreams.

+bonus:

Eight o'clock, and he was with his motorcycle at your door.

"you are breathtaking, love" he said and you approached him to give him just a little kiss, while smiling.

"thanks for all this, but I thought it wasn't a big deal?" a smirk adorned your face.

"it was a big deal if you were calling me a jerk about it" you grabbed his waist as you settled on the bike.

"sorry about that." a little peck on the cheek.

"you'll have time to apologize to me, don't worry:"

#writing #writers on tumblr #oneshots #across the spiderverse #miles g morales #miles morales #miles 42 #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales #miles morales fluff #earth 42 miles morales x reader #the prowler #miles the prowler #miles morales x y/n #sataraxia

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anadiasmount · 4 months

Text

just friends? or more? - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: interviews and late night talks. but it’s always hard to see your best friend leave for his away games. no matter the distance or duration.

wc: 3k | masterlist | jude's masterlist

psa🗣️: happy new year everyone, hope everyone is doing okay! 🤍 mixed a request with my own imagination. this was supposed to be a small blurb but I ended up writing more. best friends to lover trope 🫂 🧟‍♀️ hope you enjoy! 🤍

“it must be an excitement to see him play at this level and talent?” the journalist asked you, to which you nodded and smiled. “it’s quite a pleasure honestly. it’s what he’s always wanted and we couldn’t be more proud,” you replied calmly not knowing where exactly to look at.

your eyes glanced from her, to the camera and then jude who was walking back from the tunnels. “recalling all his goals from this current season, which one has been your favorite? could there be a sort of muse to inspire and motivate him to this level?” she asked curiously, leaving you thinking.

“my favorite probably, okay wait actually i don’t know if i wanna say because i don’t want to get dragged, but it was special to see him win his debut here in the bernabeu, even if it was a tap in,” you laugh, “his goal against napoli and barcelona are one for the books as well.” you kept glancing behind her to see jude standing there cockily, arms crossed with a smirk plastered on his face.

“as for a muse, i’d say himself and the people around him whether it’s friends or family even the fans. with the constant support and wins, seeing how the team reflects, how he can do more. overall i think it’s just him and the healthy mentality he has,” you say shyly, nodding your head as you spoke, jude then decided to intervene.

“erm excuse me? this is my interview,” you say in a teasing manner, stepping on your tiptoes to reach his hug. “i apologize. just wanted to come over and say hi,” jude says playfully making everyone smile. “we were just asking y/n about if there could be a certain muse to make you perform at this level. is there anything you would like to say about that?” the journalist asks.

jude scratches his brow and looks down smiling, “well to be honest there is someone…but for privacy reasons or maybe to not jinx it, i’ll keep it hidden… they’re truly wonderful and inspire me to do my best every time,” he says with a huge grin looking down to you where you stand. your eyes connected and for a second maybe he was dedicating this to you? you thought.

as the journalist wrapped up her interview the two of you teased and joked around, answering her questions politely and respectfully, making sure to wish her the best of luck and a small be careful. the thoughts of him having a ‘muse’ still didn’t go away from your head. if he was referring to you or if there was someone he had yet to tell you about.

jude was always private with his life, but around you he couldn’t stop yapping, always with a smile in his face when he spoke about him. but this had you questioning just a bit, if there was more to your close friendship. to his longer and more intense stares towards you, his touch on your waist when out together, always asking to stay longer and cuddle.

it wasn’t just you who had noticed it, his teammates as well, often teasing both of you especially jude as you would hear it when he called you after training. don't even get started on the media, replays, and many comments on the two of you when together, always asking if you were dating, or saying they lived for your friendship.

there was something different and you couldn’t avoid it any longer, being left confused with your feelings. it began to feel like love. you can’t love your best friend, you couldn’t take a risk like that.

“you’re awfully quiet? something in your mind? i know something’s up so don’t say it’s anything,” jude remarked, squinting his eyes. you let a soft chuckle out and turned to face him, “i’m just tired… also i was reading some of the comments from our interview,” you lied offering a quick smile and showing him your open instagram page. he raised his brow and got out the car.

you trailed behind him to where you were greeted to a quiet home. jude quickly slipped on some slides and dropped his bag in the mud room. you took of your shoes and walked into the kitchen to prepare some dinner for the two of you. as you glanced around you felt jude hug you from behind, his face leveled next to yours making you jump. “fridge is full?” he asked.

“oh yeah. i went grocery shopping and brought the necessities! refilled the fridge, got toothpaste, and i also got you those scooby doo cookies you love so much,” your hand interlocked with his that was around your waist as you pointed to the cabinet above you. just then you realized how close the two of you were.

it felt like you had moved in, and shared a house together. you never ever had shared a bed, but for the past month you had, waking up with jude on top of you or your back next to his chest. having breakfast daily together and him waiting for you to come back from uni or work. hanging out more than usual, cuddling more than usual. the his and hers titles applying to the two of you, when brushing your teeth, your mugs, sharing clothes, having your shoes aligned by the door.

jude felt you tense asking what was wrong but you shook your head, “after dinner, i might go home,” you tell him watching the smile disappear from his face. “what? why? do you want me to go with you? you should just stay it's already late, i want to you to stay” jude insisted, making up different reasons as to why you should stay the night.

it’s not that you didn't want to be with jude tonight, you did, to feel him hold you and kiss your head at night. but the thought of acting like a couple, with no label, with your best friend made you freakout, because what if how you felt wasn't how he did? what if you read the cards wrong and it was only you who fell over heels for your best friend? what if he didn't love you like you did?

“i’ll think about it, i said i might go, still debating, i haven't seen the roomies in a while and we want to have a girls night,” you said trying to calm the panic that overtook his body. “i don’t mind joining, you guys just do spa night, drink wine, and talk, i’ll be like one of the girls…” jude shrugged jokingly, making your eyes roll playfully.

“okay decide what you want to eat so we can start cooking,” you recalled, grabbing a pan and heating up some oil. jude played his old songs playlist, singing along to the songs you remembered, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as he led you to dance in the middle of the kitchen, his soft brown eyes never leaving yours as he sang happily. would this be what it felt like to be a couple?

the tv show played softly on the background, jude fast asleep on your chest letting out small snores. he refused to let you leave as the time you had finished eating and talking was super late, leaving with no choice but to stay once again. it felt like home, jude felt like your home, they way you fit perfectly in each other's arms. you turn the tv off, squinting your eyes in confusion as you saw his phone ping.

jocelyn:

thanks for the other day! hope we can see each other again, had so much fun!

your heart sank looking back at jude who was still sound asleep on your chest, feeling your eyes burn with tears and your stomach sink further down. you controlled your breathing, feeling stupid and naive for actually believing and falling for him. it wasn't his fault, it was you for letting yourself believe there could be something. you would never be his, there was already someone else in his life to fill your spot.

you were able to manage to sneak off the next morning without a word or budge from jude, feeling trapped and claustrophobic around him when he hugged you from behind. you couldn't stop thinking about his words from yesterday's interview and his ‘muse’, the way his touch still burned on your skin, the way he hid a girl from you. it felt like you were the other woman even though you had no clue who she was.

you fiddled with your keys, opening the door to a silent home once again, darting straight to your room where you fell onto your beg with small whimpers and sobs, crying over a boy. you weren't able to sleep last night, so you didn't even feel when you fell asleep, forgetting about reality for the day.

jude was left confused and curious as to why you weren't there, next to him. he called and called, texting you over and over again, becoming worried when there was no response from you. he was unable to focus during recovery and training session, thinking of how you suddenly left, and how distant and tense you were yesterday. he wondered if you had school, or if you something came up with your roommates.

jude wanted to hang out before he had to travel away for the weekend. spend as much time with you. his head should be focused on winning and on the team to advance in the ‘copa del rey’ but he couldn't when he hadn't heard from you.

jude was deep in. as every day went by his love for you grew more and more, knowing it could be risk for your friendship. he had the urge to just yell out how much he loved you, how badly he wanted to call you his, to finally stop playing around and put a label. it was hard to read you and that killed him more. feeling hopeless and desperate, he called again quickly listening to your voicemail.

you had jude’s head spinning, heart skipping beats at the thought of you, and he was left with no choice but to show up the day before he left at your doorstep. your eyes frantically roamed jude who stood with a serious look on his face, almost shutting the door at him out of nervousness. jude let himself in, turning to you quickly brows drawn in. “is there a reason why you are not answering your phone?” he asked seriously, no taint of playing around.

“i needed to catch up on some uni work. i have so much to do still, and i wanted to focus on getting the hard part out first,” you say unsure, as his brows draw in with bewilderment.

“but yet couldn't answer one phone call from me?”

“jude-”

“i’ve been left worried, thinking if you were okay after you randomly left without saying anything? i don't like you shutting me out y/n, i understand you were busy but a text even would’ve taken me out of my misery,” jude huffed letting out a sign of disappointment, walking to the couch and staring at your study layout. books and books, open pages of your notes, and your laptop that sounded louder than usual.

“i just wanted to give you space and time for yourself. i don't wanna seem clingy or attached because all we've done for the past month is be together at house. i just thought you might’ve wanted to do something else with your teammates or other people,” you say embarrassed, daring to spill the girls name from the other night.

“well you thought wrong, the only person i want to be with is you. i wanted to see you before i left tomorrow,” jude said with a small frown, hands digging into his hands. ‘the only person i want to be with is you’ should have not stung like it did, the ache in your chest as you heard him say that, bitting your lip to hold back the tears that wanted to build up. though you were stronger than that.

“what about jocelyn?” you asked carefully being met with a quiet jude, giving you a questioning look. “what about her?” maybe it was the way he had said it or the fact he was upset but you now regretted bringing her up knowing it had triggered something. “didn’t she mention-” you were cut off by jude.

“jocelyn is my stylist when i’m here in madrid. she invited me to have brunch with her and her girlfriend when you were taking a midterm this week. I didnt mention it because it was a fast meal, just food and talking,” jude said. you felt utterly stupid and left more embarrassed than before, wanting to punch yourself for quickly making up assumptions instead of asking for clarification.

“oh.”

“wait.. how do you know about jocelyn? did you think something else?” jude asked, lifting his head from his hands. you rubbed your shoulder anxiously not knowing how exactly to respond, “you mentioned her the other day, i just assumed,” you lied quickly, “also i saw her message the other night i stayed over.” jude had caught you, and now he wasn't going to let the opportunity to go to waste. “

“so that's what this is about?”

“i don't know what you're talking about…” you shrugged quickly, dismissing his tone.

jude ushered you to come over, and like a puppet you quickly followed his request. you stood in the middle on his legs that were spread, shifting your weight from one foot to another, contemplating what to say or where to look. “you thought jocelyn meant something else to me didn't you…” jude asked to which you nodded slowly.

“would have it bothered you if it did? if she did mean something to me?” he asked softly, watching as your eyes looked around and landed on his, you let out a small “yes” in a quiet tone, jude smirking.

“well, it’s a good thing you don't have to worry about that. jocelyn doesn't mean anything, and the only person who does to me is you,” jude spoke softly, you shuddered a breath as you felt his fingertips trace from your calves all the way up behind your thighs, making you lose balance and grip his shoulder to regain it. “jude-” you warn again, but quickly gulp as he repeated his actions.

“the way you smile, the way you hold my hand, the way your eyes glimmer when you let me rant about anything. i love it all. the only person who makes me feel like that is you… all i want is you, y/n. to have and to hold, to love and cherish, to protect and kept by my side forever,” jude gripped your thighs and pulled you onto his lap where you gasped.

“can’t you see that? hmm? can't you see how much i love you? how badly i want to make you mine and call you my girlfriend officially? they say it's forbidden to fall for your best friend, but who cares about those rules when what we have is real. a genuine love.”

your lips pursed open, letting out a shaky breath before speaking again. he had that effect, leaving you breathless even if it was a small action. “this whole time i thought i had it wrong, and that it was just me who saw the sudden shift in our friendship. who felt the feelings. i know it was wrong from me to have assumed that when i have no right, but i thought there was someone else,” you reply.

jude’s hands roamed your thighs, making you relax to his touch, “it drove me crazy two nights ago as i rethought our whole friendship. it felt not weird but it felt like we were living a life with no label placed, acting like a couple because we just felt the need to or we had just gotten that close. not only did it confuse me but also scared me, and it made me distant,” you continued.

“what you feel here,” you pointed and touched his heart, “is what i feel here,” you then pointed to your heart, which was beating like crazy not only at revealed feelings but also the proximity you two were. “i want you to know that i can't stop thinking about you no matter where i am or if i’m this close to you,” you reassured him and yourself. that this was reality.

“you have no idea how long i’ve waited to hear you say that… to say that you love me. everyone could see it, everyone teased us for it, but we were scared. but i’m not scared to take this risk, because it means i get to have you here and forever. to love you,” jude said making your eyes go glossy.

“is this actually happening?” you laughed and sniffled, “because if it's not and i’m dreaming i’m going to be mad,” you say. “it's all real, i could pinch you if you want, to make you believe it? or i could kiss you to seal our relationship?” jude offered with a huge grin, making you raise your eyebrow. “you haven't even asked me to be your girlfriend yet,” you remark.

“my beautiful y/n… do you want to be my girlfriend?” instead of replying, you sealed your answer with a kiss. a kiss that sealed also promises and your love forever. jude’s lips molded into yours, tugging him closer by his broad shoulders as his hands delicately rubbed along your thighs. he tasted like honey, not having enough by how gentle and passionate he was being with you. “my jude. my jude forever,” you say still kissing his lips as he smiled into it.

“i love you princess.”

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #judey thoughts 5️⃣#jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham one shot #football fanfic #footballer #football x reader #football x y/n #football imagine #football one shot

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kingkatsuki · 2 years

Text

Squirting | Bakugou Katsuki x Midoriya Izuku x Reader

𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐢𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐚 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐬𝐦.

Kinktober masterlist.

Summary: Midoriya is having trouble trying to make you squirt, luckily for you Bakugou is on hand to teach him exactly how to do it.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Midoriya Izuku x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, pwp, cucking (kinda), fingering, squirting, dirty talk, one little bit of degradation, praise, multiple orgasms, Bakugou is v v mean to Deku and very much in love with reader, not proofread!

Word Count: 4.5k.

Your sex life with Midoriya was satisfactory, sometimes it felt like you shouldn’t complain. Hearing stories over drinks with Momo, Mina and Jirou about their conquests or relationships and the Pro-Hero men that couldn’t even find time for them during busy work weeks, nevermind find time to copulate, you felt lucky that you’d ended up with Midoriya Izuku. Because at least if nothing else, he scheduled intimate time for you both. Even marked it on a little calendar you kept pinned to your kitchen fridge, giggling over the word “smash” written on every other Sunday.

What did it matter if you had to fake a few orgasms, pretending to finish early so he wouldn’t continue fucking into your tight heat when you were bored and on the edge of climax. Waiting patiently for him to reach his peak before scurrying off to satisfy yourself in the shower. You were content, and that’s all that mattered.

Over time you’d both had conversations about spicing things up in the bedroom. Talking about various kinks or positions you’d like to try, Midoriya mentioned a certain roleplay scenario where you pretended to be a damsel in distress with Pro-Hero Deku swooping in to save you, thanking him for his service with your pussy. In exchange, you’d revealed one of the things you wanted to try more than anything else was to see if he could help you squirt.

Of course, Midoriya immediately began to research how to pleasure you. He wouldn’t be the perfect, dutiful boyfriend otherwise. But all the pages he seemed to read online, the videos he watched, nothing seemed to help in his endeavour to make you squirt. So in the last ditch effort, he decided to pick a friend who would be willing to help, someone he could trust, someone with no strings attached—

“Bakugou?” You tugged at the hem of the Deku shirt you were wearing, trying to pull it further down your thick thighs, “What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t even tell her?” Bakugou stood, mouth agape in your shared bedroom, turning to give his friend a glare, “Fuckin’ Deku.”

“I told her! But we hadn’t arranged a day yet…” Midoriya mumbled shyly, lingering by the door.

“The most basic thing you could do and you didn’t even do that.” Bakugou scoffed.

“No, no. I promise, she knows!” Deku continued, “She wants to. We’ve discussed it.”

You wished he’d had the courtesy to at least shoot you a text, you would’ve had a few minutes to mentally prepare yourself or if nothing else put on a cute set of lingerie. You suddenly felt so vulnerable in front of the number two hero, wondering whether he really wanted to be here or if he had been promised something in return like you had with Midoriya’s fantasy.

“Do you want me to leave?” Bakugou looked at you as though you were the only person in the room, wanting to know what you wanted him to do.

“No,” Your face felt flush as he gave you a sly smile.

You looked like an innocent lamb prepared for the slaughter, and Bakugou felt like the big bad wolf ready to devour every inch of you. He felt debauched when Midoriya had approached him in his office one evening to ask for his help with something, already prepared to say no before he’d even heard what it was. But thank whatever Gods above that he didn’t, because it meant that he was now standing in the same room as you.

“Okay, sweetheart. Guess I’m stayin’,” Bakugou gave you a soft smile as he took a step closer to you, “You wanna tell her, or can I?”

“You can,” Midoriya came to stand beside Bakugou as you sat at the foot of their bed.

You weren’t naive, you could see there was a reason that the hulking Pro-Hero Dynamight was standing in your room and that you’d discussed with your boyfriend numerous times. You just hadn’t expected him to bring home the man tonight, you felt completely unprepared and an apprehensive ebb swirled inside your tummy. You couldn’t deny you’d held a crush on the Pro-Hero since Midoriya had introduced you years ago, it was hard not to when he was absolutely gorgeous. Aging like a fine wine as the number two seemed to hold a similar soft spot for you in return. But you’d never expected to act on it, so this moment had your heart fluttering in anticipation.

“Deku said you wanted help with somethin’?” Bakugou continued, “Said he wanted help to make you cum?”

The blatant explanation had your cheeks flushed and your cunt throbbing from his crude tone, biting down on the inside of your cheeks to stop the debauched moan from leaving your lips.

“To squirt-” Midoriya clarified.

“Same fuckin’ thing.” Bakugou rolled his eyes, moving to squat in front of you at the foot of the bed. His large palms pressed against your thighs as vermillion eyes stared up at you softly, gauging your reaction, “So? Do you want me to help you squirt, sweetheart?”

His palms felt warm against your skin, making you wonder how much warmer they’d be just before he ignited them for his quirk or in the sudden aftermath. Wondering if they’d be warm enough to scorch your skin and leave a mark, a reminder of your time together. You felt him squeeze your supple skin softly as he waited for your answer, obviously wanting consent before he continued further. You gave him a gentle nod as you worried your bottom lip between your teeth.

“‘m gonna need to hear you say it, princess.” Bakugou pressed, “Deku does too.”

“Yes,” You replied simply, watching Bakugou’s lips curl into a grin as he began to soothe his hands along your thighs, the calloused palms catching against your softness as he groaned low in his throat.

“Do you have a safe word?” You scrunched your nose slightly at the question, you’d never really felt the need for one with Midoriya before. The positions and kinks you’d both explored in the bedroom hardly warranted one, and often if you just told him to stop he would.

“No.” You whispered.

“Jesus,” Bakugou turned his head to glare at Midoriya, “Do you guys do anything?”

“We do—” Midoriya countered, “We just never need one. She says stop and I stop.”

“Well, I’m gonna fuckin’ need one.” Bakugou turned back to you, “If I do anything you don’t like, or it’s too much and you want to stop. Anytime, say boom. You got that?”

You found yourself nodding before you remembered what Bakugou had said before, “Yes.”

He grinned up at you, “What’s the safe word?”

“Boom.”

“Good girl.” The praise sent a jolt of electricity directly to your clit as you tried to squeeze your thighs together to give yourself some much-needed friction. A movement that didn’t go unnoticed by Bakugou as he gave you a coy smirk, “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ll get to you in a second, okay?”

“What if she says boom during- you know? By accident?” Midoriya mumbled.

“What? You’ve fucked her so good you’ve got her screaming ‘boom’?” Bakugou snorted.

“Well, no but-”

“So I think she’ll be safe,” Bakugou stroked your cheek, “What do you think, sweetheart? You wanna change the safe word?”

“No,” You whispered, earning a grin from Bakugou.

“Atta girl,” He squeezed your thigh in confirmation as he turned his attention back to Midoriya.

“What do you actually do together?” Bakugou snorted, “Do you even know where the clit is?”

“Of course I do,” He mumbled, “I’ve made her cum.”

“What about the g-spot?” Bakugou continued, uncaring for Deku’s endeavours in the bedroom as he was more enticed by the sight of you nervously staring down at him.

“The what?” Midoriya mumbled.

“Jesus.” Bakugou rolled his eyes, “No wonder you need fuckin’ help.”

Bakugou stood from his position between your thighs as he held a warm hand out to you to move you to stand.

“Will you take your shirt off for me and get on the bed?” His gruff voice was soft as you found yourself nodding before he’d even finished asking.

Moving your hands down to the hem of the shirt you were wearing to leave yourself in your pair of cotton panties.

“Is this part of it?” You whispered.

“Nah, I just wanted to see your pretty tits.” He grinned as you saw Deku scrunch his nose in irritation behind you.

Bakugou had a completely warped sense of power having you completely naked while he remained fully clothed. Also seeing you sat there in what was obviously a shirt you’d stolen from Deku had him irritable, not wanting to make you climax while you were wearing the shirt of another Pro-Hero. It was bad enough that you weren’t his in the first place, you deserved better.

“You’re so pretty,” Bakugou groaned as he stood beside the bed, eyes roaming your exposed skin, “Deku’s so fuckin’ lucky, ain’t he?”

You looked over at your boyfriend who was watching the scene intently, a sweet smile on his face when his gaze met yours, an evident bulge thick in his pants.

“Do you mind if I touch you a little first, to help you relax?” Bakugou moved to kneel on the bed between your thighs as he hovered over you, still fully clothed.

“Don’t kiss her,” Midoriya called out from behind.

“Shut up, Deku. You wanted me here, you don’t get to bark orders at me now.” Bakugou spat, but to your disappointment, he avoided your lips as he pressed a gentle kiss against your collarbone.

“This okay?” He whispered as he reached up to cup one of your breasts tentatively, your nipple pebbling beneath his palm as you released a soft sigh.

The calloused pads of his fingers moved to pinch the sensitive buds as he twirled and twisted them between his digits, pulling more pretty noises from your throat as he felt his cock throbbing beneath his sweats.

“You like that, huh?” Bakugou smirked, leaning down to capture the other between his lips as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin. Shamelessly clenching your thighs together as your hand immediately moved to the back of his head to thread your fingers through his messy mop of hair, nails grazing his scalp as you tugged roughly. Causing Bakugou to groan against your skin, sending pleasurable vibrations through you.

“Is this necessary?” Midoriya spoke as he sat down on the bed on the other side, causing Bakugou to pull back from your chest with a snarl. The cool air in the room cooled Bakugou’s spit against your nipple as you shivered beneath him.

“You want me to get her to squirt when she ain’t even horny?” Bakugou scoffed, “You slide it in dry, dumbass?”

“We have lube.” Midoriya mumbled, “If it’ll help?”

“Fuckin’ hell.” Bakugou pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to control his temper, were you really happy with this idiot? “If she’s turned on, it’ll be easier to make her squirt. You know that right?”

“Oh-” It was as though a lightbulb had been illuminated in Midoriya’s mind, as you knew he was probably fighting the urge to grab his phone to take notes, “I get it, keep going.”

“We’re gonna take these off so I can help Deku make you feel good, sweetheart. Is that okay?” Bakugou thumbed the edge of your basic panties, wishing you’d picked one of your sexier pairs today but he was still staring down at you with the most intoxicated look in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Bakugou began to tug the cotton down your thighs as he noticed the silvery strings of slick connected between you and the fabric. Wondering if he’d manage to commandeer them by the end of the night as a depraved souvenir, “Fuck.”

In hindsight, it was probably a terrible idea for Bakugou to agree to this when he was so completely in love with you. If he had asked Kirishima for his opinion before answering he knew his best friend would’ve shot it down in an instant. Telling him not to get himself involved and end up hurt, that having a taste of you would only make him want you more. And now Bakugou could confirm this was true. It was as though he’d been led through the gates of heaven and been shown paradise, and now he didn’t want to leave. The moment he’d coveted for so long was finally happening, and now he’d had a taste of you it wasn’t enough. He was greedy.

“I’m not sure I can do it, I’ve never before-” You mumbled shyly.

“That’s cause shitty Deku doesn’t know how to do it,” Bakugou replied with a grin.

“No, I mean. I’ve never- even with myself—“ You trailed off, hoping you wouldn’t have to be subjected to the embarrassment of explaining.

“Oh fuck,” Bakugou groaned, “That’s so hot. You been trying to make your pretty little pussy squirt all by yourself, sweetheart?”

You gasped at his blunt words and how they had your clit throbbing harshly.

“How have you been trying to do it? You got toys or you use those little fingers?”

“Both. Mostly m-my fingers,” You whispered. You’d tried toys before but none had been tailored specifically to help women squirt, little bullet vibes or clit-sucking vibrators that seemingly did little to help in your endeavour.

Bakugou sucked in a breath at your response, trying to stop himself from cumming in his pants at the admission as he imagined you alone in your bed trying desperately to get yourself off with your little fingers and silicone toys to no avail. Oh, he’d show you how to cum and he’d have you cumming hard.

“You’re pure sin, sweetheart. Pure fuckin’ sin.” Bakugou groaned, “Don’t worry, Dynamight’s got you now.”

Bakugou moved his fingers to stroke against your outer labia, groaning at how soft you felt as he began to spread your folds between his thumb and forefinger as he caught sight of your tiny clit peeking out for him. Shamelessly staring at you as he committed the sight to memory, knowing that this would be the subject of his motivations on those lonely nights when he’s fucking his fist to the thought of you.

Dragging his fingers between your folds as the calloused tips caught your clit, causing your hips to buck as he continued lower. Circling your tight entrance as he began to press his middle finger inside you, feeling your tight walls beginning to squeeze around him.

Shit, you were so tight. Did Deku even fuck you at all?

“She’s so tight,” Bakugou mumbled through clenched teeth as he began to wiggle his finger inside you.

“I know,” Midoriya grinned as he watched his friend touch his girlfriend.

Bakugou continued languidly pumping his finger inside you as you felt his blunt nails dragging along the ridges of your walls, sweet whines spilling from your lips as he finally managed to slide another inside you to begin stretching you out around him. He was tempted to swoop down to taste you, but he didn’t want Midoriya to stop him before he’d even begun as he continued pumping his fingers inside you. His thumb pressed against your puffy clit as he heard the sinful groan that left your body, your walls clamping down around him as he watched your eyes clench shut in pleasure.

“When she gets close you wanna start curling your fingers towards you.” Bakugou curled his fingers as he pressed them against the spongy spot inside you.

“Curl my fingers?” Midoriya mumbled.

“Yeah? Like this,” Bakugou pulled his soaked fingers from your cunt as he showed them to Deku, his cock throbbing at how they glistened beneath the lights in the room as you made a sound of irritation at the loss of contact.

“Don’t whine, baby, don’t whine. I gotcha. I’m not gonna leave you unsatisfied.” Bakugou smirked, moving them to slip back inside your body, “Gotta show this dumbass how to please you right, don’t I?”

You sighed as he resumed position, continuing to pump his fingers inside you as you felt the tightness continuing to build in your stomach as he worked you towards your climax.

“And if you wanna speed things up you can put your palm here,” Bakugou moved his free hand to press against your pelvis firmly, increasing the tension as you bucked your hips, “See? Doesn’t that feel good, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” You choked on a gasp as your walls began to tremor around his fingers, Midoriya’s cock throbbing in his pants at the sight as he palmed himself through the fabric.

Bakugou’s fingers were constant on the same spot inside you, flicking his wrist with each pump as he felt your legs trying to clamp down around him. His thick thighs pressed between them to stop you from avoiding the sensation as he continued his precise movements.

“I feel funny.” You tremble, your hands fisting the sheets beneath you as you feel like you might need to pee. The shame and embarrassment throbbing inside you as you try desperately to hold yourself back, cowering away from your bliss.

“Don’t fight it, sweet girl.” Bakugou cooed gently, “Just let it happen.”

An unfamiliar sensation began to swirl in your pelvis, the coil inside you tightening as you cried out, writhing against the sheets as the sensation began to consume you.

“Stop, oh my god. It’s too much.” Tears began to cling to your lashes as you thrashed beneath Bakugou, his hand against your pelvis keeping you steady as he continued his movements.

“She said stop,” Midoriya’s eyes were wide with worry as Bakugou definitely did not stop.

“She’ll tell you to stop, but she’s got a safe word for a reason. Don’t you, sweetheart?” Bakugou pressed, vermillion eyes looking up at your face, “Do you wanna use the safe word?”

“No,” You managed to choke out, “Oh my god-”

Bakugou kept his thumb constant against your clit as his fingers continued beating against the same spot inside you repeatedly.

Your climax came so abruptly that you didn’t even register it at first, a jumbled mixture of words tumbled from your lips as you felt yourself come undone. Your mind was hazy with euphoria as both men stared between your thighs unabashedly, watching the clear stream of liquid spurt from your cunt and soak the sheets beneath you.

Tears began to stream down your temples as Bakugou pulled his fingers from your spent body, his thumb rubbing soothing circles against your puffy clit to help ease you down from your high as Midoriya stared down at you in awe.

“Wow,” Midoriya whispered breathlessly as he stared down at the filthy sight in front of him, the sheets damp beneath you as you tried to blink back the white spots that blanked your vision.

Watching his friend doing such illicit things to you shouldn’t have made him feel so needy, so desperate. Groaning beneath his breath as he watched the steady rise and fall of your chest as you tried to regain your breath, reaching out to palm one of your tits as you sighed blissfully.

“Good girl,” Bakugou squeezed your hip softly, his grey sweats now soaked with your arousal, “Did it feel good?”

Your walls continued throbbing as you nodded your head, your entire body aflame as both men stared at the mess between your thighs.

“Fuck it,” Bakugou loomed over you as he brought his lips down to your messy slit, dragging his tongue between your folds.

You jolted in surprise as your lips parted in a muted cry, feeling his tongue prodding against your tight entrance as he lapped at your release like a man starved.

“You already made her do it” Midoriya mumbled as he palmed his cock, his boxers felt as wet as the sheets beneath you as he tried to adjust his skin against the sticky fabric, “It’s my turn now right?”

He sounded like a child asking to play with a toy at Christmas, his palm wrapped around your thigh as he tried to pull you in his direction. Feeling Bakugou’s lips curve into a snarl against your cunt as he growled in irritation.

“Listen, I’m helping you out it’s the least you could do.” Bakugou pulled back from your cunt with a smirk, his chin glistening with your essence as he crudely wiped it off with the back of his hand, “Alright your turn, dumbass. Let’s see if you learnt anything.”

“Okay,” Bakugou moved to give Midoriya more room as your boyfriend settled between your thighs, his hands stroking against your soft skin as he gently dragged his fingers through your slit.

“Do you think you can do it again for Deku, angel?” Bakugou cooed as he lay beside you on the bed, his scent intoxicating as the warmth of his body heat began to surround you.

“Mmm, yeah.” You hummed, breathing a soft sigh as you felt Midoriya press a solo finger inside your fluttering walls.

“Is that good, baby?” Midoriya whispered as he began to pump it inside your pliant body, feeling your walls throbbing around him as you nodded your head.

“More,” You mumbled, keening as Midoriya happily obliged. Two fingers now pumping inside you as you began to roll your hips to meet his movements, feeling the pleasure beginning to build inside as you climbed towards the same peak.

“So fingers against her g-spot.” Bakugou guided, his hand moulding your breast, uncaring that it was covered in your drying slick as he thumbed your nipple. Your back arched off the bed as you leaned into his touch.

“Where?” Deku mumbled.

“Jesus,” Bakugou rolled his eyes as he moved back between your thighs to settle beside Midoriya, “Did ya not listen to anything I just fuckin’ told ya?”

“No, no, I did.” Midoriya mumbled, “I mean I can’t find it.”

You could feel Midoriya’s fingers messily jabbing inside you as they searched for the coveted spot, shifting uncomfortably beneath him as his nails began to catch against your spongy walls.

“Fuckin’ dumbass,” Bakugou grunted as he gave a final, lingering squeeze to your tit before shifting his body to settle back beside Midoriya, shouldering him roughly to make room between your thighs. Taking one of his fingers as he hooked it inside you beside your boyfriend's, the sensation causing you to gasp as both men filled you up. Bakugou deliberately wriggled his digit until it pressed against the exact spot inside you, almost as though it was already muscle memory, Midoriya following suit as he felt the smooth ridge along your walls.

“That— right there.” Bakugou groaned as he watched your face contort in pleasure, “See how much she likes it?”

Thrashing against the bed as you leaned into their touch, “More.”

Feeling the extra stimulation from the stretch of both men inside you at the same time as they continued to press against the spot, attempting to match each other’s rhythm but it was still off-kilter as Midoriya pressed away from you as Bakugou pressed against it. The sloppy movement actually left you feeling even hotter and bothered as neither allowed you a moment of respite, moaning sinfully as you felt the pleasure building inside you once more.

“Slutty girl,” Bakugou smirked, watching your face contort in pleasure as he kept his movements consistent.

Midoriya had never called you anything like it, and it left you feeling warm and craving the sound again. Wanting to hear Bakugou spew all kinds of filth against the shell of your ear as he helped you vault into the feeling of pure ecstasy.

“Put your hand there, man. Let her feel it— that’s it.” Beckoning Midoriya to place his hand on your pelvis to try and increase the tension building between your thighs while simultaneously holding your writhing body steady, “You like both of us at the same time, hah?”

“Fuck,” You choked on a gasp as a jolt of pleasure surged through you to descend directly to your core.

“Keep hitting it, she’s clenching.” Bakugou continued, flicking his wrist with more urgency, “She’s close, you gonna show Deku how pretty you are when you’re squirtin’ for him, yeah?”

“Yeah,” You cried out, the pleasure inside you overwhelming as you felt yourself being thrust into your bliss until the sensation was promptly stolen from you. Groaning indignantly as you felt tears welling in your eyes at the loss of sensation.

“Fuckin’ idiot.” Midoriya pulled away early, causing Bakugou to curse under his breath as he swiftly added another finger to resume his friend's movements.

Midoriya’s eyes widened as he spewed our apologies, resuming his movements inside you, “I thought she already came.”

“Just keep goin’ you’ll know when she’s done,” Bakugou snarled, biting his tongue to stop himself from starting a fight with his friend just as you were at the height of your climax.

“I’m gonna- I’m- oh my god,” The sensation was so overwhelming as you were plunged into paradise. Screaming as pleasure consumed you, your walls clamping down around both men's fingers as you came undone. You didn’t think you’d be able to squirt twice in a row, but you were proved wrong as a stream of liquid began to seep from your body.

Both men kept you riding through the pleasure as more clear spurts of liquid continued to spill out against their forearms and collect against the sheets. Pressing all four of his fingers against your clit to frantically rub it from side to side as drops of liquid began to spray beneath them. Making an even bigger mess than before as both men continued to watch in awe.

“Don’t pull back now, dumbass. Are you fuckin’ stupid or somethin’?” Bakugou snarled as your boyfriend pulled back thinking you’d already climaxed, “She’s still cumming.”

More desperate cries sounded from your lips as Bakugou prolonged your pleasure, you’d never felt quite so lightheaded as you did at this moment. The euphoria completely consumed you until all you could see were those same pretty eyes staring down at you, your cunt throbbing around his fingers as he began to slow his movements. This time allowing you to close your thighs around his hand as you reached out lethargically to wrap a hand around his wrist to stop him from torturing your overstimulated sex.

"Love yo-" Bakugou stopped himself before the words slipped out, hearing Kirishima's irritating voice at the back of his head, "Love this fuckin' pussy."

“S’too much,” You whined, feeling Bakugou’s fingers still inside you as he stopped tormenting your smooth walls, cherishing the aftershocks of you throbbing around him.

“Poor, baby.” Bakugou feigned sympathy, “But it felt good, didn’t it pretty girl?”

You were nodding before he’d even finished the question, unable to remember a time you'd felt so attractive and desired by someone. The look of absolute adoration in both men's gazes as they looked down at you with lust-blown eyes had a heightened pleasure soaring through you.

“You did such a good job for us, sweetheart. Looked all pretty and shit squirtin’ for us.”

“I didn’t think I could,” You mumbled shyly.

“Clearly hadn’t been doin’ it right, hah.” Bakugou grinned, finally pulling his fingers from your slick heat as you whined from the loss of contact.

“Can’t believe you’ve never done this for her before, asshole.” Bakugou scoffed, his cock throbbing painfully hard beneath his soaked sweats as he tried to commit the debauched sight of you to memory, “What else do I need to teach you, Deku?”

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