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nerdieforpedro · 10 months ago

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Watch me and Touch it Querida

Santiago "Pope" Garcia x plus size female reader

Fanfiction is 18+ MDNI

Main Masterlist / Santiago Garcia Masterlist / Oscar Isaac Masterlist

Word Count: 4.4k

Summary: You have a crush on your long time friend Santiago. After the events of Columbia, he stays in your spare bedroom. You two make good roommates. Pope decides to ask you a question that you thought was just a throwaway. Turns out he was serious.

Warnings: Teasing, Hair worship (is this a thing? I guess it is now 👀), oral sex (female receiving), fingering (female receiving), unprotected P in V (wrap them thangs up), cockwarming, aftercare, bad jokes throughout (another Nerdie staple)

Notes: My first Santiago smut! I think I captured his essence. Maybe, Ya'll will have to let me know. Also, I apologize to anyone who actually plays guitar, I just looked up what Google said were the four basic chords.

The first clue should have been that he asked to stay with you. He had three other men, his brothers, that he could have stayed with. Especially since they don't talk about whatever happened last month. Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia is a flirt of a man, has been since you’ve known him. You pay him no mind, his little compliments don’t phase you - much. He would call and text you in between deployments and later when he was out of the military. He’d also call when he was in the States or overseas consulting. Just checking in on you, he would normally lead with asking about how you were doing. Your mind constantly told you it’s the kind of thing he would do with the guys except they likely have private jokes. Your heart tells you it might be more, but your mind usually wins with reasoning.

Him moving in went fine. Pope didn’t have much with him. A few duffle bags and a backpack. He took up your second bedroom and things were easy. Just fine. They guys joked that you two should have been roommates years ago since you got along so well. They’re not wrong, you just still need him to move out. Which is impossible to ask considering one of his friends just died on their trip, none of them will say how and even though they all still get along, neither Frankie, Will or Benny will let Pope stay with them. Suspicion is high that there’s some lingering resentment there, but it’s not your place to ask. You weren’t there. You don’t know and you’re not going to.

You haven’t seen any odd habits so far. He cleans up after himself, cooks every once in a while. No women have been in your guest room that you know of and you never want to know if they have. The conversations flow easily and he plays his guitar sometimes, letting you sit on his bed next to him while he plays different chords. Strong hands alternate between picking at the strings and strumming them, Santi softly hums a tune you’re not familiar with. There was a Die Hard marathon you both watched together the other day. No red flags….which should have been red flag two for you.

He’s your friend. Almost a brother to you. You can’t be looking at how his polo shirts cinch around his waist and slight tummy or how they’re struggling with every thread on those biceps of his. The man has a million watt smile with curls to match, a dangerous five o’clock shadow, plush lips and warm chocolate eyes that focus on you when you speak. When he calls your name, you always exhale, it sounds perfect out of his mouth. Your thoughts haven’t even broached his thighs or that perfect curve he calls an ass when he asks you out of the blue. You’re minding your own business on the couch reading a book. Lying to yourself that you’re going to do less screen time this year.

“You think I should grow it out? I’ve always shaved it.” How long had he been thinking about this? Wait…shave what? Not his head right?! Not those curls. Curls that you’d snuck your hands in only a handful of times copying a noogie that Benny would do and only when the others were around. So silky with a touch of gray….He had asked a question. About his hair, shaving it…

“Santiago. Please don’t shave your head.” You pleaded, harder than you meant it to come out, but you were serious. It warranted your book closing and to look up at him. Why did he have to stand in front of you like that? Sure most people do that, but it’s not okay when he does it. You’re aware of this and the fact that you still haven’t told this man to move in with one of his brothers means you’re the third red flag. At some point, you became okay with the idea of throwing away your friendship with Santiago. Oolging him when he’s not aware and looking forward when he’s away for a few days so you can think more about his merits and assets. Possibly with a few handheld aides.

He laughed at you and sat down on the couch. “No tonta (silly). Grow a beard. My facial hair grows pretty fast anyway. What do you think? You like facial hair on your men angel?” His shoulder nudged your arm. You chuckled at the thought that he joked about you having men. Pfft. Shaking your head, you playfully swatted his cheek, his rough stubble grazing your fingers. You made sure your hand came down to your knee, the desire to keep in on his face was too strong in the moment.

“I think you could pull off a beard. You already have stubble half the time. Just don’t let it look raggedy Santi.” You smiled, trying to picture it. The most facial hair you’d seen him with was a mustache in pictures before Delta Force and he looked like a porn star. Hell he looked like one now. You need to stay focused, you’re having a conversation. If he did have one of those nice, maintained beards though…he might turn into an evil villain. They usually had some cool beards before getting thwarted by heroes. His grin at your very apparent compliment and distraction makes you lose the little focus you did have.

“Glad you believe in me. You didn’t answer my other question though.” Squinting your eyes, you’re confused for maybe the third time tonight. “Do you like facial hair on men or do you like them clean shaven?” He leaned in, very clearly expecting an answer.

Frazzled, your answer matched your current state of mind, “I mean, more hair is always better than less hair. I love some friction, you know I’m used to it because of my thighs but that’s…it’s gotta be a different kinda of sensation when someone's doing it right and has a solid beard…” His wide eyes told you that you’d said too much. Way too much. You stood up and mumbled goodnight, cursing yourself and hoping that maybe he had another overseas contract soon. He grabbed your wrist and stood with you.

“Is that what you like angel? Something for a different type of friction? Good to know. I take it you haven’t had that from what you said though. Sweet dreams cariño (dear).” Santiago said as he released your wrist. He knew damn well you weren’t going to sleep tonight and you didn’t. The next few days, he didn’t mention it and when you two met up with the guys and their girlfriends, he didn’t mention anything then either. By next week, you were sure it had blown over and he left saying he was going to be gone for two months. That was plenty of time to forget your mistake right?

The time came and went fast. Santiago was back…with a damn beard. It was black with gray strands at its edges. Letting his lips peek out from the oval of hair that formed around them. You looked, then turned and snuck another look. Angry that you did. Maybe he would shave once he got settled in. He greeted you with a hug, nuzzling his nose and jaw on your neck as he embraced you. You wanted to slap him for testing you, but maybe he didn’t remember, you also wanted to touch his face and kiss him to feel the hair on your face. Gazing up at him, his curls had grown out a bit more as well, more pronounced and larger. Pope said he was going to go take a shower and frankly, you felt you could use one too. Get these ideas out of your head.

The first week is fine. A good amount of time spent with the guys both at bars, their places and in your apartment. The second week however was the kicker - Santiago had gotten some beard oil that smelled of cedar, jasmine and a hint of vanilla. You were thankful that Will wanted Santi to tag along with him this week for more motivational speaking engagements. Pope was out of the house and away from you smelling that damn delicious.

As it was past 9pm on a Thursday, you were already in your oversized sleep shirt and panties. Not sexy at all. Not that you needed to be, you’re dancing around in your apartment. It’s something you haven’t done too much except when Santi’s out of town. It helped calm you and you could focus on the music and not your various worries, especially your thoughts about your roommate.

Santiago unlocked the door to your apartment. He walked in and saw you in the living room. Swinging your hips, arms above your head. What should come on next but “Worth the Wait” by Kali Uchis & Omar Apollo. You’re singing along and moving with the music, it wouldn’t hurt to dance with you right? It’s not like he hasn’t danced with you around your home before, though that was usually to some boy bands that you would play because you knew he hated them. He took hold of your hands and interlocked his fingers with yours, his gaze on your surprised face as you stopped moving, but he brought one of your hands down and patted your hip to encourage you to continue to dance. The song is slow and the content is rather sensual. “Keep dancing cariño. With me.” Is the only thing he said as you two moved, your chests mere inches away from each other. He released your hands and placed them on your hips and yours immediately went to his beard. You figured if he’s going to dance with you like this, you may as well touch it. He let out a deep chuckle, leaning forward. Santi pressed his warm chest against yours, he spoke in your ear, “You like it, touch is querida (sweetheart)? I grew it just for you.”

Your breath hitched when he said your name in your ear and his hands that had been on your hips, roamed your back. “Y-You did Santi? You didn’t have to…I..” His large hand ran up your neck and cupped the back of your head as he sang along to Kali’s next song “All Mine.” Your hands fell to his sides, pressing into his skin, kneading it. It would be embarrassing how moist your panties had become and that your nipples were hard as little pebbles if you didn’t feel the need to jump this man, but dancing is sweet and nice.

We’ll figure it out as we go, just you and me

But we won’t leave each other alone, that’s all mine

All me, all me All mine, All mine, all mio, mio, mi

All mine, all mine, all mio, mio, mi

Both of you continued to rock side to side until the song ended and Santiago stood to his full height. You wondered if maybe you’d gotten too lost in the music and had imagined everything. You hadn’t let go of him yet, if you weren’t hallucinating then that meant this just happened and maybe you could act on what you’d been feeling. “Santiago. What you just sung, did you mean it?” Your eyes scanned his face, you wouldn’t be distracted this time. He had essentially used a song to confess his feelings to you, but it needed to be said outside of a song. Pope took hold of your chin and smiled.

“Yes I meant it. I know how you’ve been undressing me the entire time I’ve been here angel. I’m not an idiot. At least in that department. I’ll say I’m not great at long term relationships so we’ll take it how it goes, sí (yes)?” He offered. That was all you needed to cup his face, place your fingers in his beard and pull him in for a frantic kiss. He appeared surprised which made you grin as he parted his lips for you, quickly recovering and wrapping his arms around you pulling you toward him as you let him in, his tongue exploring your mouth. The groan you released was loud as you pressed your thighs together, feeling the wetness spread. You pulled out of the kiss and pulled him toward your bedroom. “Cariño, you sure?” He asked with slightly red lips. You answered by pushing him onto the bed, hands on your hips, you scanned his body. He didn’t need to ask and you weren’t going to answer such a silly question. You smacked your lips at the tent in those damn cargo pants he always wore.

“Too many clothes Garcia. Take them off.” Your hands went to your hips. “Now.” Santiago hadn’t seen this side of you and was enjoying it. He was normally one to take charge in the bedroom. He removed his shirt, exposing his taut muscles that flexed as he fiddled with his belt and removed his boxers and pants in one drop. He kicked off his socks as he sat on the side of bed with his arms out. You stepped up to him but didn’t embrace him. Instead, you just dropped your soaked panties as they hit the floor, heavy with your own wetness. Santi looked down and muttered a soft, “fuck,” next you removed your shirt. Your curves on full display as he attempted to place his hands on your hips but you stopped him. “Up on the bed. I’m due some friction since you keep teasing it with me.”

“¡Joder! (Fuck) , this is what you like huh? Being in charge? I’ll play along this time.” He slid back toward the top of the bed where you were expecting him in the middle.

“That’s where I’m supposed to be Santi. Move back down.” You motioned as the bed dipped, you crawled next to him and looked down at him. He smirked, damn grin. You wanted to pink he cheek, both sets.

“No. If you’re going to take charge then you need the right seat angel.” He wiggled his eyebrows as you scratched your chin for a moment. It clicked, he wanted you to…no one’s ever asked that. Pope didn’t give you a choice about settling on his face gently. He turned on his side to grab your knees and pulled you over his shoulders, his breath on your slick inner thighs. “Look at you. You’ll drench me won’t you angel?” He turned his head to the side and rubbed his beard on your thigh, you brought your legs closer together and reached down, taking a handful of his curls while calling his name.

“Dammit, you know how many nights I’ve thought about this, your curls and this beard? Don’t ever mention cutting your hair again unless I say so.” You growled, his nose tipped upward touching your clit momentarily before he drew back. “Fuck..you damn tease Santiago…” His hands roamed from your knees to your thighs and then your large ass, giving it a squeeze. It made you buck your hips and drop them, making your slick lips come into contact with his beard. Your yelp was sharp and followed by multiple curses as you heard Garcia laugh into your core. It didn’t matter now if he laughed, you were here, sitting on this man’s face. You dropped your hips to stifle him, calling his name as you sat. The sweet grate of his beard against your thighs and mound had you dripping.

Santiago had never seen you so feral. He was throbbing as he watched you cry out his name and felt his cock twitch when you pulled on his hair. He knew he had an effect on you but didn’t expect this. This was so much better than he could have imagined. Now that he could barely breathe, he opened his mouth, kissing your entrance before rolling his tongue around your tight hole. He estimated that he’d definitely need you come at least twice to accommodate him. He then had it pass your entrance to explore within you and he felt your strong pulses. He smirked again, hearing you scream as he went deeper before truly starting. He alternated hollowing out his cheeks to suck what felt like your uterus out of you and having his tongue press against your soft core. He was concerned for a moment that you may pull out a chunk of his hair, the way you were using his head to steady yourself as you grinded into his face. When he was pulling his tongue back to suck again, you screamed his name again and gushed, soaking his face, beard and neck. He drank as if he'd come in from a desert and you were the first source of water he’d come across. When your body relaxed, you fell forward and he slid from under you to lay next to you. Your face was sweaty and some of your hair was sticking to your forehead, one of your hands weakly came up to your face in an attempt to hide it but he grabbed it and kissed it gently.

“You asked me to strip so no hiding hermosa (gorgeous). You had your beloved friction?” He teased and you smiled, shaking your head. He didn’t forget that you said that. He remembers all the wrong things. He set your hand down on the bed and rubbed your back, “Ready for more? I’m going to need at least two more from you.” He explained and your eyes went wide.

“I might have one…and that’s being generous of me. Why two?” You managed to prop yourself on your elbows but were still on your stomach. His hand continued to rub your back and slowly went to your ass, then a finger slipped into your sensitive sex, making you gasp. “Y-You need to warn someone when you do that…”

“That’s why, you’re a little too tight.” He kissed your shoulder and licked your ear, “those boys you’ve dealt with and your toys don’t prepare you for me querida.” His finger pumped slowly and as it reached deeper he added a second one, making you lift your right knee to allow yourself to open more. The squelching noises coming from your cunt had you whine as you gaze up at Santiago who was watching you, his gaze heavy. “I wonder which chord your pussy plays to angel?” He licked his lips and nibbled on your ear again before speaking again, “Em?” His fingers pumped into your straight, “how about C?” He curved his fingers slightly and your hips snapped, you opened your legs even wider as you began to wiggle against the mattress.

Santiago stopped his fingers for a moment and flipped you on your back before adding a third finger and curling his fingers even more, “How about G?” His eyes were dancing, watching you pant from just his hand. You’re saying his name, but babbling angrily at him. He finds it adorable that you still have it in you to be angry. You could hold a grudge. He’ll fuck it right out of you. His free hand roams your wide stomach as you pull on the sheets around you and your legs continue to part for him, feet planted into the mattress as you move your hips with his fingers. He leans over you and kisses you gently to which you release the sheets and grab his head, digging into his curls again, biting his bottom lip. He draws back deciding to finish you. He wants to watch you as you climax this time, “let me give you chord D cariño.” Santiago crosses two of his fingers over each other, bends them slightly, hitting your spongy sensitive tissue. Your hands let go of his hair and grasp his forearms, digging your nails into them and you groan with your second climax, it feels stronger than the first as your back arches. He revels in watching your mouth wide open spilling with his name repeatedly, even the pain from your nails is welcome. He’s not normally into it being a bit rough, but he senses that you might not be aware of what you’re doing. He wouldn’t mention it now. Something else to tease you with later.

Slowly you feel his fingers leave your drenched cunt, you feel like you’re floating but exhausted. Your eyes flutter, but you watch as he licks his fingers, hearing him moan as he does. It had your core stirring again. Having him take you apart, break you even though you planned to be much more assertive, initially you weren’t happy about it, but he’d done nothing except pleasure you since you’d ask him to strip. “S-Santi, do you want me to…” Your eyes trailed down to his swollen and dripping cock which looked thicker than any you’d had, even your dildos. You were understanding more why he made sure to prepare you first.

“Not tonight. I bet you’re still pissed at me for teasing you. I know you hold onto a grudge like a dog with a bone, angel. You'll be a little less mad after I finish with you.” He rubbed his beard against your soft stomach before settling between your legs, “Ah! Damn it, I need a condom. I’ll have to go to my room, I have some-” His face went from smoldering to panicked, then to confusion as you reached down and gently gripped the head of his dick.

“I have an IUD Santiago. I’m not mad but, you’re not taking your cock out of me until it’s soft. I will be livid if you do.” His eyes were wide as your knees parted further and you brought his head to your entrance. He placed his hand over yours and moved it gingerly. You watched as he looked up at you.

“I didn’t realize you were such a dangerous woman. As my angel wants.” Santiago slid into your wet cunt halfway, watching you to see if you had any discomfort. It was slight, only from the stretch, he was so girthy. You growled at him.

“You’re not all the way in are you? I’m fine. Just move, Please Santi…” That famous grin spread over his face as he pushed forward until his hips were flush with yours. “Yes…that’s it…fuck it’s so much. This was in those damn pants? It isn’t enough that you have that ass?” You managed a small giggle, reaching your hands to cup his face. “Fuck me while you kiss me with this beard you sexy bastard.”

“You’re so damn kinky cariño. I love it and you, too.” His lips crashed into yours as he started his pace, not bothering with slow as he drew back and gave deep thrusts that kept hitting your cervix. Moans between the two of you had your lips swollen as you kept needing to either bite, suck or release cries. His hands moved from your stomach to your knees, bending your legs back and tipping your hips upward slightly, hitting an entirely different angle. Santiago was up on his knees and had moved out of your reach so you placed your hands over his that were on the back of your knees. Between him rutting into you and the bending you were doing to try and touch any part of him, your insides were quivering again. You were close again already.

“S-Santi..It’s…” You stuttered, in between your whines. He nodded as he felt you starting to clamp around him, he felt his balls tightening. Dropping one of your knees, he wrapped an arm around your back to bring you close to him, one hand went to his soft curls, now drenched with sweat and the other held the back of his neck as your thumb ran across his temple and grazed his beard. With a few more pumps, Santiago spilled into you, groaning into a rough kiss with you, his teeth nearly colliding with yours if you hadn’t had your tongue run along them. The sensation of him filling your core, had your third orgasm begin. Pope slowly dragged his softening cock along your walls to extend it, he kissed trailed down your neck. When both of your bodies stopped moving, Santi gave it a minute and went to pull out to which you wrapped your legs around him.

“Not yet. Just inside, a little longer Santi.” You cooed, kissing his shoulder. He nodded and held you, as the both of you soaked in each other’s warmth. When you removed your arms from him, he took that to mean that he could move which he did. He went to your bathroom as you tried to sit up. He looked back to you and quickly motioned for you to stay on the bed. He returned with a warm washcloth after whipping himself off and opened your legs. The cool air had you let out a quiet sigh.

“Careful, you keep sounding like that, I may have you ride my face again angel.” You laughed knowing you didn’t have the strength to do so no matter how tempting it sounded. He carefully wiped, making you flinch as your cunt was swollen and sensitive. Once he finished, he helped you sit up and helped you to the bathroom. After the clean up was done, you both returned to bed, getting under the sheets, you laid next to Santi and twirled a finger in his curls. “Ven aquí (come here) cariño. You enjoy yourself?” He pulled your upper body onto his chest, preferring to be face to face with you.

“I did. I’m going to be sore for a few days, but it’s worth it.” A soft smile graces your face as does Santi’s. You peck his lips and lay your head on his chest. His laugh vibrates throughout his chest. His hands are once again on your back, stroking it. It’s relaxing.

“Good to know I’m worth it angel. I was starting to think all your staring had you rethinking my beard.” You poked out your bottom lip and pinched his bicep. His hands grabbed your hips and jiggled the extra flesh you had on them.

“You could have just asked you damn tease.”

“Nah. I had to make you work for it a bit. I’m not an easy man cariño.” He kissed your forehead as his hands traveled back up to your back.

“You’re near impossible is what you are, Santiago. You’re lucky I love you.”

“Yeah, that I do know querida. I love you too.” A comfortable silence fell over the two of you in each other’s arms, fully exposed to each other finally.

Music from the fic:

Santi's Peaches 🍑: @for-a-longlongtime @legendary-pink-dot @maggiemayhemnj @morallyinept @megamindsecretlair @pedritapascal @rhoorl @dameron-grant-spector @pamasaur @sin-djarin @i-own-loki @soft-persephone @soft-girl-musings @readingiskeepingmegoing @saturn-rings-writes @yorksgirl @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @musings-of-a-rose @heareball @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @magpiepills @trulybetty @wannab-urs @pedroshotwifey @missladym1981 @agentjackdaniels

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saywhatjessie · 1 year ago

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Like V-J Day

Or the lads kiss each other to cover for Colin kissing Michael after West Ham and a new Richmond tradition is born. 5.9k [Ao3]

Never did Sam Obisanya think he’d be clutching and screaming with Jamie Tartt after scoring the winning goal in a premier league trophy match.

For several reasons, really. He’d always believed the team could do well and he’d believed he could do himself and his family proud in this sport he loved but after everything they’d gone through and with Jamie Tartt of all people…

He was having a little trouble trying to believe he wasn’t dreaming.

That feeling only increased when Jamie stopped screaming, his eyes on something past Sam’s shoulder and going wide with panic.

“Sam!” Jamie yelled. “Kiss me! Kiss me on the mouth!”

Sam blinked at him, unsure he’d heard right. “What!?”

Jamie shook his head, his eyes still wide, and moved his hands from Sams’s shoulders to his face. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

There wasn’t really time to think so Sam just said “Oh. Okay!” and Jamie leaned in and kissed him.

It was quick – nothing fancy. Jamie pulled away and patted Sam on the cheek. “Good lad.”

Sam just nodded, not sure how to respond to the situation. Was this another trick? Like winning an Oscar at the Espys?

Sam got distracted by Isaac and Bumbercatch colliding with him, dogpiling and screaming about his goal.

He wasn’t sure anyone else saw Jamie kiss Dani and then Jan Maas. Was this something they did now? Were they kissing each other?

Just in case, Sam pressed his lips to Moe’s temple and kissed Isaac on his nose. Isaac’s face scrunched up rather adorably but he was still screaming so Sam didn’t think he’d actually overstepped.

The rest of the team joined their huddle and with Coach Lasso’s victory dance, Sam's thoughts of kissing were quickly abandoned.

Until the following press conference.

It was a rare triple-coach event with both Sam and Jamie representing the players.

The reporters lobbed them easy questions about how excited they were for their win and how disappointing it was that Man City also won their match. But it was Marcus Adebayo, The Independent, who really brought the heat.

“Mr. Tartt, any comment on why you kissed three of your teammates on the pitch after the match?”

The coaches turned slowly to look at Jamie – Ted, surprised and delighted, Roy, surprised but trying very hard not to look it, and Beard, extremely unsurprised but pleased.

Jamie shrugged, his arms folded in front of him on the table, the picture of smugness. “Celebration, innit? We’d just won a really big match the season after we’d been promoted. ‘S like that old picture from America. After the war or summat.”

“‘V-J Day in Times Square’?”

“No, the kissin’ one,” Jamie told him. “Not sure what a VJ is but I don’t think you can do that in public.”

A couple people laughed. Sam heard Roy growl. He leaned forward to speak into his mic.

“We kiss people on the pitch after a victory all the time,” Sam said. “I don’t know why a victory this great would be different.”

“Well, you don’t often kiss each other,” Marcus offered.

“Well, never has a team been as close as this team has gotten,” Roy interjected, leaning toward his own mic. “We encourage our players to express themselves however they like. If kissing on the pitch is something they want to do after they play some good fucking football, we’ll fucking support them.” He grunted, slouching back a little. “It’s the Lasso way.”

“Aw, come on now, Coach,” Ted said, smiling softly at him. “It’s the Richmond way.”

Roy rolled his eyes but he offered a soft smile back. Sam beamed at them and Jamie’s smile was as bright as Trafalgar Square.

Jamie offered Roy a cheeky wink. “Nothing wrong with kissin’ the lads, yeah?”

“Oh fuck you,” Roy said back and everyone laughed.

They moved onto the next question.

On the way back to the dressing room, Sam hung back to walk with Jamie. “What was the kiss really about?”

Jamie grinned at him. “I’m supposed to be playing decoy, aren’t I? So I saw Colin kissin’ Michael on the pitch and I knew I had to distract everyone, yeah? Make it normal.” Jamie shrugged. “Knew Colin didn’t want to come out yet. Now he doesn’t have to.”

Sam melted a bit, taking a moment to appreciate the Jamie they have compared to the one they started with. He wrapped an arm around Jamie’s shoulders, clapping him on the arm. “Jamie, that is so sweet. I’m sure Colin will be so grateful.”

“Weren’t planning on telling him, to be honest.” Jamie frowned. “Don’t want to put him on the spot or whatever.”

“Jamie,” He shook him a bit and Jamie dropped his head, pleased. “That really is wonderful. But we should at least talk to the team. See who else might like to get in on it. The more teammates kissing, the more normal it gets.”

“Yeah, alright,” Jamie said, smiling up at him. “And I’m sorry for kind of ambushing you. Shoulda probably explained meself better first.”

“No, it was fine, I understand.” Sam told him, letting go of his shoulders as they entered the room, almost everyone else in the shower already. “And it was a nice kiss.”

“Oi, mate,” Jamie grinned. “You haven’t seen a good kiss yet.”

The transition through the off season and then back into pre-season training without Coach Lasso had everyone noticeably glum. They’d kept Coach Beard, and Nate had been promoted back to assistant coach again, but Roy as manager didn’t quite have the same charm as their American friend.

Not that Roy was bad. And not that he didn’t try.

He actually did a phenomenal job of bringing his own unique perspective of the game into coaching them on the pitch while keeping up with some of Coach Lasso’s open and compassionate policies. It was quite the environment.

An environment that spurred them to win their first game of the season for the first time since Sam started at Richmond.

Everyone was on the pitch screaming and celebrating when Jamie locked eyes with him. His eyes churned, a kind of slow illumination of feral joy, and he pointed at Sam, his grin a vicious challenge.

He stalked up to Sam, his grin growing more manic, and Sam ran to meet him, wanting to share in whatever primal joy Jamie was feeling.

Jamie, of course, gripped the back of Sam’s head and brought him into a leg melting kiss.

Oh yeah. Sam had forgotten about that.

They hadn’t yet gotten around to bringing anyone else on Jamie’s kissing scheme – except for Dani and Jan Maas, who were, themselves, kissing across the pitch – but Jamie had promised Sam he hadn’t seen a good kiss yet and well..

Wow . Yeah, okay. Sam understood why the ladies on Lust Conquers All let Jamie get away with so much now.

HIs knees actually buckled and he had to grip Jamie’s shoulders tightly to keep himself from going down. He felt Jamie smile against his mouth, laughing as they broke away. “Did I actually make you go weak in the knees?”

“Fuck off,” Sam laughed, still a little dizzy. “I wasn’t ready.”

“I warned you!”

“Not recently!”

Jamie laughed again, putting an arm around Sam’s waist to hold him up. He used his other arm to reach into the cluster of teammates celebrating next to them.

“Oi, Richard!” Jamie pulled at the Frenchman, dislodging him from the group. “Kiss me!”

Richard smirked and said something in French that was probably very dirty but Sam couldn’t understand it.

He pushed up against Jamie, his side brushing Sam as Jamie still hadn’t let him go, and pulled Jamie into a kiss without any hesitation.

He immediately shoved his tongue in Jamie’s mouth, which Sam could have told Jamie was to be expected. For all Sam knew, that might have been what he’d warned in French.

Jamie laughed as he shoved Richard away. “You prick.”

Richard just winked and moved to jump on Zorro as he passed.

“Wow,” Sam said, bringing his arm up around Jamie’s shoulders. Now they were doubly linked. “Did you tell him already? About the kissing thing?”

“Nah,” Jamie said, grinning as they walked toward the dressing room. “But he’s French, inhe? Knew he’d be up for it.”

Sam groaned. “I’d call you out for stereotyping but I also know Richard.”

Jamie laughed.

“Think Cockburn might be my next target,” Jamie mused, his lips pouting out in a thinking face. “He could probably loop in Winchester and Roberts.”

“I can talk to Moe and Babutende,” Sam offered. “I already sort of kissed Moe at the last game.”

“Yeah?” Jamie grinned. “Was it as magical as I imagine?”

Sam shrugged. “Kiss him yourself.”

Jamie winked. “You know I will.”

Watching Jamie cut a path through all their teammates over the following weeks erased any doubt Sam might have had that he was 100% serious about his role as a distraction.

He did end up kissing Cockburn, then Bumbercatch, then Zorro, and also Sam and Jan Maas and Dani every chance he could get. A couple of them cornered Sam later to ask him what Jamie was up to but were more than happy to play along once they knew it was for Colin. Meaning Sam himself had kissed Richard and Dani and Winchester and O’Brien and he even got to kiss Moe properly. Jamie was right: it really was magical.

They somehow got all the way to November before they actually had to talk about it. And, unfortunately, only because they’d hurt Colin’s feelings.

He approached Sam in the dressing room, the training after their win against Crystal Palace, when Sam had actually hopped up to wrap his legs around Jamie to kiss him at a better angle. Sam had a rotation of which teammates he’d kiss after a match but he definitely always made sure to kiss Jamie.

Sam and Colin weren’t the first two in the locker room but they were early enough to be among the first, and no one was really awake yet.

Colin was already in his training kit, looking sleepy and unobtrusive. He plopped down on the bench next to Sam’s cubby with a deep sigh.

Sam chuckled, hanging his shirt up and grabbing his own kit. “Fun night?”

“What? Nah.” Colin sighed again, reaching up to rub his forehead. “Not hungover. Just couldn’t sleep. Something botherin’ me.”

“Oh,” Sam answered, startled. He was always happy to help a teammate and friend with their problems, but Colin had never come to him before, “Would you… like to talk about it?”

“Yeah, actually.” Colin turned to look up at Sam, his wide brown eyes looking tired and sad. “Do you think Jamie’s avoiding me because I’m gay?”

“What?” Sam jerked, his head shaking in an automatic denial. “Colin, of course not. Has he been avoiding you? I thought you played FIFA with him yesterday.”

“We did! I did, he’s not I guess–” Colin huffed a breath, his brow furrowed in frustration. “‘Avoid’ might not be the best word. I just, you know, I feel left out. I feel like the team’s excluding me because I’m gay.”

Sam frowned. As far as he knew, Colin had been there for all team dinners, team movie nights, the casual FIFA with the boys. If Colin was being left out, Sam wasn’t seeing it. “Excluding you how?”

“You know…” Sam screwed up his face in question and Colin sighed. “With the kissing. The after win kissing you all do on the pitch. I know Jamie started it, and he’s kissed just about everyone – even Shannon! – but he hasn’t kissed me. Is he being weird about me being gay?”

Sam blinked and immediately had to suck his lips into his mouth to keep from laughing. Laughter would not unhurt Colin’s feelings.

They really should have seen this coming. Or, if nothing else, Jamie should have just kissed Colin. Not kissing him has singled him out the same way Colin being the only one to kiss a man would have.

“Colin, I promise you, Jamie isn’t avoiding kissing you because you’re gay.” Sam stopped and frowned. “Or, he might be, but not in the way you think.”

Colin frowned back, his shoulders slumping.

“No, hey, listen.” Sam reached forward and gripped Colin’s shoulders. “I promise, just let Jamie explain. Oh, Jamie! JAMIE!”

The locker room had been filling up while they’d been talking, the boys getting gradually livelier as their coffee kicked in. Jamie had just sauntered in, dressed in peak form in his floral track suit and orange tinted sunglasses.

He grinned over at Sam and Colin and trotted up to them. “Yeah, mate?”

“Tell Colin you haven’t been avoiding kissing him because he’s gay.”

“What?” Jamie jerked, pulling off his sunglasses so they could see his blue eyes wide in shock. “Mate, definitely not! I’ll kiss you now if you like, make everything square.”

Colin put his hand out as if to stop Jamie from kissing him. “No. No, don’t do that.”

Sam wasn’t quite as successful with stopping a laugh. He choked on it a bit. “Jamie, Colin has noticed that you’ve been kissing everyone else on the team and would like to know why you haven’t kissed him.”

Jamie frowned. “Oh. yeah, I guess that would look homophobic. You were probably right and we should have told him.”

“No good deed goes unpunished,” Sam agreed, clapping Jamie on the back.

“Sorry,” Colin said, his frown looking more perplexed now than unhappy so at least that was good. “How is Jamie kissing the whole team a good deed?”

“I’m playin’ decoy!” Jamie tells him with an undercurrent of pride you would have never seen from Jamie Tartt three years ago. “Distractin’ the press like so you and Michael can kiss after matches if you want.”

“Kiss Michael…” Colin started before his eyes widened in understanding. “Oh! After West Ham last season!”

“Yeah, mate,” Jamie said, bouncing a little on his feet. “Saw you snogging on the pitch so I quick kissed Sam and some of the other lads so at the conference, they asked me about that instead of what was happening with you.”

Colin looked at Jamie, awed and a little impressed. “I’d just thought no one had seen us. Thought I got lucky.”

Sam chuckled. “You’d have to be very lucky. There were thousands of people watching.”

Colin shrugged.

Jamie scoffed. “Nah, mate. It was me! And then Sam thought the rest of the team might want in on it, so we’ve been, like, creatin’ this culture of kissin’ the lads after a win. So if you ever wanted to do it again, you’d be sorted.”

Colin smiled. “That’s real sweet, boyo.” He punched Jamie in the arm. “But you still should have told me!”

“He was trying to be humble,” Sam told him, rolling his eyes.

“Well now that he knows–” Jamie grinned, stepping up on the bench and shouting. “Oi!”

Everyone was in the locker room by now, the stragglers still changing while everyone else chatted. They all looked up at Jamie.

“Oi! Tartt!” Roy yelled back. “Why aren’t you changed?”

“One minute, Coach.” Jamie grinned. He turned back to the team. “Everyone knows about the after-win kisses, yeah?”

Everyone muttered in affirmation, some of the boys elbowing each other cheekily.

“Well Colin knows now!”

“Was it a secret?” Zorro, asked, confused.

“It would have been hard for him not to notice,” Jan Maas added.

“Weren’t a secret, just didn’t want to make it a big deal,” Jamie answered. “But now it is. So I figured we should have, like, an open discussion of boundaries or whatever. Now that we all know what’s happening.”

More muttering of agreement but then Bumbercatch asked, “What was wrong with how we were doing it?”

“Nothing,” Jamie asked, over yet more muttering. “I fucking loved it. But I do want to make sure we’re all on the same page, yeah?”

Everyone started nodding, throwing in their agreement. The coaches were all hanging by the door of their office, passively observing, until Nate piped in, “That’s very mature, Jamie.”

Jamie scoffed. “Fuck right it is. I’m a legend at open communication.”

Nate visibly sighed. Sam smirked.

“I do want to thank you all for doing this, by the way,” Colin interjected. “I did like being able to kiss my fella after a game like that. I was worried I wouldn’t be allowed to do it again.”

“Well first of all,” Roy started, commanding the room. “It’s not a matter of ‘allowed’. We’re never gonna stop you from doing whatever the fuck you wanna do with whoever the fuck you wanna do it with.”

Colin smiled. “Thanks coach.”

Roy nodded. “On this team, we all have each other’s backs. And if that means snogging on the pitch so one of our own doesn’t have to hide, have at it.”

Jamie grinned. “Was there a second of all, Coach?”

Roy grunted, scowling at Jamie. Sam fought not to giggle.

“ Second of all,” Roy started. “Show of hands. Who’s in on this shit?”

Jamie’s hand was the first in the air, Dani and Sam’s coming up almost as quickly. Most of the rest of the starters raised their hands, as well as half of the reserves. Isaac’s hands were folded against his chest.

Sam watched Roy nod at him and Isaac nod back. He would leave that one alone. It wasn’t his business.

“What about you, Coach?” Jamie asked.

“What, me?” Roy snorted. “Fuck no, I can’t be kissing players.”

Jamie shrugged. “Don’t see why not. Same as a bum pat, innit? Besides: we need to kiss some people who aren’t teammates so Colin kissing Michael in’t suspicious.”

Roy’s eyebrows seem reluctantly swayed by Jamie’s logic but his frown didn’t move.

“I’m up for it,” Beard offered, his hand raised. “I’m always down to kiss beautiful men.”

Richard yelled something in French that sounded like agreement.

“I’m free for some smooching as well,” Will said, awkward but grinning. “I’m small so you can definitely pick me up and spin me around.”

Jamie scoffed. “‘Small’. You’re taller than me, man.”

Winchester leered at the kit man. “Been thinking about that, Will?”

Will went red and ducked his head but his lips were pulled into his mouth like he was trying not to smile.

“Anyone picks me up,” Bumbercatch added. “And I’ll kick your balls into your stomach.”

“Great boundary, Moe,” Sam told him. Moe nodded. “I myself have been fine with the level of kissing so far.”

“Bet you have,” muttered Jamie, and winked when Sam shot him a look.

Sam would try not to look at that too closely.

Colin raised his hand. “I saw Richard fully snog Jamie with tongue and everything so I’d like to ask for no tongue, please. I’ll also need to clear all this with Michael, obviously.”

“I have spoken with my girlfriends about this already,” Dani said. “They have both said that it’s wonderful. So I am free to kiss all my amigos!”

Sam smiled. Dani lived such a beautiful and loving existence.

“Jane’s good,” Beard says, waving his phone redundantly.

“It’s a no for me, oh rats,” Nate said, unconvincingly. Sam couldn’t imagine his girlfriend would have been bothered by, well, anything. But if Nate wanted an out that was fine.

“My girlfriend and I actually had a conversation about this exact situation,” Will offered, smiling dreamily.

“Will, you’re a freak and I love it,” Jamie told him, pointing at him approvingly. Will grinned up at him.

“I mean I’ve kind of had that conversation,” Colin said. “But it’s more of the hall pass thing. Like ‘which five people could I hook up with and it’s not cheating.’”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve done that,” Zorro said. “Rachel McAdams and Zendaya.”

Everyone nodded at that. “Solid choices,” Roberts added.

“But wait Colin saying that means…” Jamie grinned over at him. “Which ones of us are on your hall pass list?”

Colin went red. “No. Nope. Not doing that.”

“Well I am, obviously,” Jamie said, smirking.

“And probably Bumbercatch,” Isaac added, speaking up for the first time. His face was alight with teasing his best friend.

Bumbercatch puts a hand to his naked chest in humble thanks.

“I’m not doing this!” Colin said again, louder, his face impossibly redder.

“It’s not fair that you can only have five,” Dani said, sadly. “Since there are more than five of us.”

“I don’t want to sleep with all of you!”

“Oh, so you’re out on the kissing, then?” Sam asked, grinning.

Colin sighed, crossing his arms. “No.”

“Good lad.” Jamie winked at him.

Sam grinned, climbing up on the bench next to Jamie. "And can we all tell Colin that none of us feel weird kissing him because he's gay?"

Everyone talked over each other, rushing to comfort him.

"Don't know why it should matter," Jan Maas piped in, shrugging. "I'm not straight."

Sam jerked. “Oh.”

“Oui, nor me,” Richard added.

Sam frowned. “I thought you were just French.”

“Well I mean I’m not straight either,” Jamie said, raising his hand. “But you all kind of already guessed that, right?”

“Wait,” said Colin, eyes wide. “So I’m not the only gay one?”

“Well, I mean I still like girls so–” Jamie shrugged. “I didn’t wanna steal valor or summat.”

“That’s not what that means,” Beard sighed.

“Oh, yes!” Dani said “I also love men but do not only love men. So I did not know how to respond.”

“Right and like gender and sexuality are constructs, so why should I give in to the colonialist idea of labeling my sexuality,” Bumbercatch shrugged. “I have sucked dicks before, though.”

“Oh, yeah, same,” Jamie grinned, a dreamy look in his eye. “It’s fuckin’ great.”

Roy choked, quietly. Sam knew how he was feeling.

“Okay,” Colin said, looking as thunderstruck as Sam felt. “Show of hands. Who’s not straight?”

Colin raised his hand, obviously, and so did Jamie, Dani, Jan Maas, and Richard. Also Zorro, Bumbercatch, Winchester, Reynolds, Cockburn, Shannon, and O’Brien. And Will. And Beard.

Sam raised an eyebrow at Roy whose arms were conspicuously crossed. Roy grunted at him. “You little pricks don’t need to know my business.”

“Interesting reaction,” Beard noted.

Roy growled.

Still, all totalled up, it was most of the team.

Colin’s eyes were saucers. “Oh my God, I wish Trent were here. This is almost my Oprah fantasy.”

“Ooh, I’ll raise another hand in Trent’s honor.” Beard volunteered, lifting his other hand. “We actually had a Diamond Dogs discussion about this so I’ll let him know he was right.”

“Okay…” Sam said, shaking his head. “So wait: I’m the only straight guy who’s been kissing other men for months? It’s not just something we were all doing, secure in our heterosexuality?”

“I mean, it was still all friendly, yeah?” Jamie said. “I’m not trying to fuck all me teammates. The kisses were super platonic. I just wasn’t straight while I was doin’ em.”

General agreement goes up as people lower their hands.

“This is confusing,” Sam confessed.

“Ay, don’t worry about it,” Jamie elbowed him, grinning. “We’ll just keep on, right? Nothing to panic about.”

Sam wasn’t panicking about it, but it wouldn’t let him rest either.

The team kept on the same: they lost some matches, they won others. They always kissed. They’d even started kissing the ties sometimes, just because they all liked doing it so much.

Keeley had been annoyed they hadn’t spoken to her about it first but was actually having a marvelous time managing their statements about everything. And the fan reception had been indulgent to downright elated, fans going as far as tweeting pictures of them kissing their friends after matches.

No matter which way you looked at it, Jamie’s impulsive decision to kiss Sam was an overwhelming success.

Sam just struggled a bit to figure out what this meant for him .

He was straight. He was pretty positive he was straight.

But by this point, he had kissed everyone on the team and some coaches and he had notes.

Dani’s kisses were always sloppy and enthusiastic - Dani always smiling too much to maintain a proper kiss.

Richard would grip the back of his neck which was super nice but he always worked too hard with his lips.

Jan Maas was no nonsense, moving Sam where he wanted and capturing his mouth for just long enough to wind him up. And he would bring Sam in for a hug after so his tall body swallowed him.

Zorro would start with a hug – also large and safe feeling – before giving a polite kiss and a friendly clap on the shoulder.

Colin was way too timid to kiss the rest of them like he kissed Michael but he still gave the sweetest little pecks.

Bumbercatch had a way of growling into his mouth which was quite thrilling.

Winchester loved to be dipped.

Beard always put both hands on the side of his neck and pulled away from the kiss with a loud “MUAH!”

Sam always made sure to pick up Will and spin him around.

And Jamie was definitely the best kisser. But that went without saying.

Sam didn’t know what it meant that he had all of these opinions about kissing men. He knew he didn’t want to sleep with them – he didn’t feel the same spark, the same drive, the same fire that consumed him when he was pursuing Rebecca – but he did love them and he did like kissing them and apparently none of the rest of them were straight.

Which was fine! Sam wasn’t being homophobic!

His feelings were just a little complicated.

“It’s simple, right?” Jamie said as Sam spotted him in the weight room on one of their off days. “Men want to kiss you. You want to kiss them. What’s the problem?”

“There isn’t one, I suppose,” Sam answered reluctantly, his hands hovering next to Jamie’s face. “I just kind of feel like everyone’s waiting for me to have sudden gay realization or something. Like I’m a bisexual bomb counting down to detonation.”

“Have you thought about doing some gay shit? Just to see how you feel about it?” Jamie asked, a little breathlessly. “Now that all the lads are gay, I’m sure someone’ll give you a handy. Just so you can know for sure.”

Sam’s face screwed up. “I’m not entirely comfortable with using our teammates for sexual experimentation. I hope you understand.”

“Yeah, fair.” Jamie frowned, grunting slightly at the weight. “I do feel like you’d know by now. You’re around fit footballers all the time. You’re around me all the time. If you don’t want to fuck me , I don’t think you’re queer, mate.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Jamie, not every queer man wants to sleep with you.”

Jamie scoffed. “Yeah they do. They might not like me, but they do want to fuck me. Hate fucking is still fucking.”

Sam laughed. “I wish they could bottle your confidence, Jamie.”

“They bottle Lynx. It’s basically the same thing.” Jamie set the bar back on the stand and pulled himself to sitting, turning to grin at Sam. “Anyway, wish I could help you more. My bomb popped early.” He shrugged. “Fit footballers, like I said.”

Sam grinned, taking the plates off the bar to bring it to his own weight. “Like that poster of Roy in your room?”

Jamie groaned. “Why does everyone know about that?” He ran a hand down his face and sighed. “I will get him.”

“Get him?”

“Kiss him, like,” Jamie answered. “Been dreaming about it since I was a lad, haven’t I? Never had a chance like this.”

“You don’t have a chance now ,” Sam reminded him. “He’s not in on this.”

“We got Captain!” Jamie answered back. “We can get Coach.”

That was half true. They hadn’t ‘got’ Isaac. He was looped in on their kissing now, though.

Isaac was straight and, unlike Sam, refused to be kissed. Sam hadn’t gotten the whole story because apparently Isaac wasn’t talking but Sam knew enough about being black, being an athlete, and being in England to guess what the problem was. But it still felt weird to leave their captain out of something that had become such a sacred ritual for the team.

They had all found a compromise. After their win against Tottenham, Colin had kissed Isaac on the forehead in celebration. Isaac had looked so touched, so profoundly loved, that all of the rest of the team started doing it, too.

Sam kept kissing him on the nose. He really loved the face Isaac made when he did it. It was important to cherish your captain.

So, they’d kind of gotten Isaac.

“You can try and kiss the coach on the cheek,” Sam offered. “He might headbutt you, though.”

“Nah, he won’t.” Jamie told him, patting the bench and getting up to replace Sam behind the weights. “Not if I make a pretty enough goal.”

Sam was laying on the bench. He looked up to see Jamie’s smirk from below.

“I got it all worked out,” Jamie continued, hiking his shorts further up his thighs as Sam starts his presses. “We’ve just been kissing after matches, yeah? And Coach always runs off and leaves us to it. But if we’re in the middle of a game and I make a sexy goal – like proper beautiful, they’d write songs about it and shit – while we’re all celebratin’ I can trot right up to the sidelines and give him a proper snog.”

Sam grunted, holding the bar at his chest. “Kissing by ambush doesn’t sound very ethical, Jamie.”

Jamie snorts. “I’m not just gonna maul him. I bet I can get him to kiss me . All caught up in the moment like.”

Sam snorts back. “You’re mad.”

“I gotta try . Gotta make teenage Jamie proud.”

Sam shook his head, setting the bar back on the rest as he finished his set. “Bet you a hundred pounds.”

“Nah, fuck that. If I can get this done, I want a free meal at Ola’s.”

Sam blew out a breath, reaching out his hand to shake. “Done. And if I win �� if he doesn’t kiss you by the end of the season – you’re bringing in the whole team and paying for everyone.”

“Definitely,” Jamie clasped his hand and shook it. “Because I’m not gonna lose. And now you’re gonna be financin’ mine and Roy’s first date.”

Sam held up his hands “If you say so. It’s already unlikely he’ll kiss you but date you?”

“Man, fuck off.” Jamie laughed, shoving him.

Sam laughed and shoved back.

“What are we laughing about,” Colin asked, smiling already.

“Hey, Colin, between us: you do want to fuck me, right?” Jamie asked. “Sam’s trying to tell me that not all queer lads want to fuck me but I know that’s wrong.”

“Well I can’t speak for everyone but me, yeah.” Colin shrugged as Jamie grinned and gestured at Sam like ‘see?’. “You are actually on my hall pass list.”

“See, I knew it!” Jamie huffed a breath like he was glad to have that settled. “We won’t be fucking, Colin, sorry to say. I’ve got bigger fish, you get it.”

“What, like Roy?” Colin grinned and Sam laughed at Jamie’s expression. “No offense taken. He’s a bit scary for me but certainly a big fish.”

“Right, fuck you both.” But Jamie still helped Sam finish his weights.

When it did happen, it happened almost exactly as Jamie said.

Jamie made an absolutely filthy goal. And it was a hat trick. And it won them the match.

And Sam had to watch as Jamie charged the sidelines and stopped directly in front of the manager, arms spread and head cocked. He couldn’t see Jamie’s face but he could see Roy’s. He saw how Roy rolled his eyes, his mouth set in that annoyed smile Sam had only ever seen him use when Jamie was being a prick. He reached one hand into Jamie’s hair, his fingers clutching at it, and the other moved up to cup his jaw as he moved in to kiss Jamie.

Sam swore, loudly and enthusiastically, as the rest of the team hooted and hollered, hats raining down on the pitch.

Jamie ran back on the pitch, cheeks high with color and hair an absolute tragedy. His grin was nothing short of euphoric.

“How’s teenage Jamie doing?” Sam asked him.

“He’s fuckin’ great!” Jamie told him. “Let’s finish this fucking match.”

They ran down the clock, playing very silly but very strong for the final twenty seconds of added time.

Jamie all but tackled Sam when the buzzer sounded, lifting him up by his collar and kissing him soundly. Sam laughed and gripped Jamie’s shoulder to steady himself as he kissed back.

“So Ola’s at 6 tomorrow, yeah?” Jamie asked him after he pulled away.

Sam laughed, shoving at his face.

Other players descended on them, yanking them to their feet and into kisses.

They were lucky this was a match at home so they could all pour into their dressing room and scream their heads off without having to worry about catching the bus home. Cries of Richmond Til We Die permeated the air, inside and still out in the stands.

When everything had calmed down and people were making plans for how to celebrate, Jan Maas called across the locker room. “So, Coach, do we need to get a hat trick for you to kiss us or is that just for Jamie?”

The surrounding players ‘Ooohed’ and laughed as Jamie went red, elated smile still spread.

“That was a special exception,” Roy told them, not quite masking his own smile. “Tartt was asking for it.”

Louder ‘ooh’s’ and a couple wolf whistles went up.

“No! Fuck off!” Roy yelled at them. “I’m not kissing any more players. Stay the fuck out of my business.”

He turned to Sam. “And I want those fried plantain things tomorrow, alright? Cheers.” And then he turned and walked into his office, closing the door behind him.

Sam turned to Jamie, flabbergasted. “Did you tell him already?”

“Maybe,” Jamie grinned, shrugging. “Had to try.”

“You are a miracle, Jamie Tartt.”

Jamie shoved at him as they continued changing.

They all agreed to meet at Colin’s for a boy’s night of beer and Fifa to celebrate their win. Sam walked out to the car park with Jamie, the two of them riding over in Zorro’s jeep.

Sam turned to Jamie as they reached the car, waiting for the rest of the team to join them.

“If you and Roy start dating seriously – which I would support you in, of course – would that mean we’d have to stop kissing after games?”

“Mate, never ,” Jamie told him, looking horrified that Sam had even suggested it. “Roy knows that the lads come first.”

“Good,” Sam said, releasing a sigh of relief bigger than he thought it would be. “I think I’m definitely still straight. But to have to stop kissing you would break my heart I think.”

“Aw, Sammy boy,” Jamie slung an arm around Sam’s shoulders, pulling his head down to press their foreheads together. “I told you, didn’t I? A good kiss can change your life.”

#Ted Lasso #oops I wrote a thing #Ted Lasso fic #AFC Richmond

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psychedelic-ink · 1 year ago

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time for the next weekly poll babes xx

okay so much to my surprise since the "make the third of the trio an oscar Isaac character" won now I'm ready to give you your pick of trios

also even if joel is not within the trio he is still the love interest since he won the poll and thank you to @mvtthewmurdvck for helping me pick out some of the trios 💗

some banner examples i did and more fic talk under the cut!

Also if there's a trio you like or want to add opinions about the fic etc please do share! I'm always eager to hear and this still doesn't have a solid plot so anything can happen 🤭 (also if the javi p, reader, joel trio wins.....what do we think about making the three of them get together lmaodfvf)

I also want to point out this fic will most likely be mystery focused and a slow burn, at least that's what I have in mind of right now but again would love to hear your thoughts

As for the trios to be completly honest my fave is javi g, reader, dieter because i just think hey fit the vibe of the show so well

okay for the banner obvi this would change depending on the trip but here's an example! (i got too excited yesterday dfvdv) the thief is dieter here and the title is still wip so please tell me what you think!

(please do not ask me how im gonna make the banner if Miguel wins because i don't know and I'm sweating already even making this took so long also special thanks to @pedrorascal for making me the newspaper girl peeking from the side thank you bby ilysm 💗)

#my polls #only murders in the building au fic

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cuffmeinblack · 1 year ago

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Lucky Felix

Isaac Cooper x Felix McLaggen (OC)

Tags: explicit | handjobs | anal sex

2k words

Summary: After winning the Quidditch house cup, Isaac lets off some steam with his teammate.

A/n: Even though like three people are gonna read this, I couldn't help it. I ship them SO HARD. The legendary Isaac Cooper has been adopted by @slytherin-paramour (I hope I did him justice) and Felix McLaggen is my OC. The two hottest chasers the Gryffindor Quidditch team has ever seen. I've been enjoying roleplaying him so much!

"Gryffindor! Gryffindor!"

The chants followed the team off the pitch as Madam Kogawa blew her shrill whistle, barking at their housemates to leave the team be, and that no, parties were not permitted in the stadium changing rooms. There would be time for revelling when the victors returned to their common room later, no doubt with smuggled crates of alcohol and perhaps a little mallowsweet passed around if they were lucky.

The entire team was buzzing, Oscar was just a copper blur as he whizzed around the changing room, patting every one of his teammates on the back. Jamie was so awestruck he simply sat on a bench with a grin plastered on his face in disbelief. Isaac, though…he clutched the trophy so tightly it was a wonder the metal hadn't crumpled under his strong grip. His dark hair, so usually pristine off the pitch, was now a windswept mess much like Felix's own, but it looked so much better on him.

"What are you staring at?"

The question came as a surprise, and Felix realise that yes, he'd been staring.

"Just…I can't fucking believe it!" he replied, breaking into a grin.

"Should've had more faith in your captain, McLaggen."

Felix laughed as Isaac held out the trophy, nodding his head towards his outstretched hand.

"Take it."

He did, wrapping his still-gloved hand around the delicate gold handle. His heart skipped a beat as he felt the cup pull, and for a terrifying second he thought the trophy had been a portkey. Instead of hurtling into oblivion, Felix found himself hurtling towards Isaac as he yanked him towards his outstretched arms. With a round of laughter, Isaac slapped him on the back, his hand lingering on Felix's sore muscles. What he'd give for a firm massage about now.

The elation turned quickly into something much more intense as he was wrapped up in Isaac's arms, the musky scent of victory mixed with his aftershave causing Felix's head to spin and loins to stir. He had to get this under control. Pulling his gaze away from the dark haired chaser, he glanced over at Oscar, who was busy pulling off his gloves and looking right at him. He seemed to know something Felix didn't, as he only offered a nod and a smile before his legs were taking him out of the sweaty room. He was being led, or rather dragged by Isaac, both still clutching the cup.

"Where we going, mate? I need to take a shower before the party…"

Isaac answered the question by stopping his retreat in the tunnel and turning his attention to Felix with a dark gaze he knew all too well. He'd seen it being used countless times on dozens of witches and wizards, the old Cooper charm now directed at him. He couldn't deny how much he'd wanted this as his captain pinned him against the wall of the stands with a strength that made his tired knees even weaker, but he'd hoped beyond all hope that if the time ever came to kiss Isaac, it wouldn't just be driven by some post-match euphoria.

As his warm breath tickled his cheek, Felix almost contemplated asking him to stop, until his lips crashed into his and all thoughts evaporated from his mind. Vaguely aware of wolf whistles and interested mutterings, he tuned out every sound except Isaac's heavy breathing and quiet moans as their tongues made battle and hands grabbed at each other's dirty, sweat-stained uniforms.

This was really happening, and there was nothing Felix could do to stop it. His body yearned for him an Isaac was simply too convincing, too strong-willed. He always got what he wanted, and tonight, he wanted Felix.

The stumble back to their dormitory was the longest of his life, making no attempt at subtlety—everyone knew Isaac's reputation, why would he hide it? Felix was another notch on his bedpost, of which there were many. The two adrenaline-fueled boys peeled each others clothes off the moment the door closed behind them, revealing nothing new except their very obvious arousal. Countless times they'd seen each other in the showers or getting changed after a match, but Felix had always managed to hide how much he enjoyed his teammate's body, shamefully pumping himself under the running water whilst he imagined what it would be like to hold himself against him.

His wish was about to be granted as Isaac guided Felix by the hips onto his bed, laying him back with a low growl that stirred something deep inside him as his cock throbbed painfully with need. What the fuck was happening, he had no idea, but he wasn't about to question it. His mind was addled with lust as he looked up into those piercing eyes framed by dark strands of damp hair that drew Felix's hand upwards. Fingers tangled in his hair as Isaac straddled his thighs, burying his face against Felix's neck with another salacious moan.

His heart hammered in his chest as Isaac ripped his hands out of his hair, bringing them above his head on the bed in one swift movement. He felt the boy smirk against his neck at Felix's gasp, his body lowering onto him to press every bare inch of glistening skin together. Every conquest of Isaac's flashed through Felix's mind and he felt his body falter, until Isaac whispered in his ear.

"Don't fall asleep on me now, McLaggen," he said with a grind of his hips.

Their erections rubbed almost painfully against each other, eased by the slick now leaking from both tips.

"Fuck…"

He wasn't used to giving over control, the impulse to roll Isaac over underneath him only thwarted by just how strong the other boy was. Felix had his wrists pinned against the mattress, his tired muscles twitching in protest and powerless to fight against his restraint. Isaac continued his trail of stinging kisses down his neck, the sharp suction sure to leave a bruising reminder of the boy's latest sexual encounter. Felix's hips had a mind of their own as he arched into Isaac's rhythmic grinding, his moans now coming thick and fast as he lost the last of his inhibitions.

He wanted to reach down and touch him, feel his hand wrapped around Isaac's thick cock, make him moan. But his hands were useless, only his words able to convey his desires.

"Let me go, Isaac," he said, more sternly than he'd intended.

The dark haired boy retreated from his neck, flashing a devilish grin down at him whilst his hands tightened around Felix's wrists.

"What'll you do if I let you go?"

"Touch your cock. That's what you want, isn't it?"

"I want a lot more than that," Isaac replied, but his fingers loosened, the blood draining back into Felix's hands and making them tingle.

Isaac sat up, allowing Felix to see him in all his glory, his eyes immediately falling to his hard length as his hand followed. Isaac let out a low, rumbling groan as Felix wrapped his hand around him, spreading the precum across the head with his thumb. Before he could start moving, Isaac had his own hand around Felix, his grip tight and not at all hesitant. They looked into each other's eyes, daring the other to move, and they did with slow, mirrored strokes as their hands and cocks brushed together.

Everything about it felt taboo, but that made it all the more exhilarating. The two friends caressed each other, spare hands roaming over their naked bodies as they didn't once look away in shame. Felix's breath grew ragged as he tried to control the urge to finish, made even harder by Isaac's constant muttering about how fucking good he felt.

"Isaac…"

The sigh left his mouth before he could stop it, head hazy from pleasure he took a second to realise that Isaac had stopped moving his hand. Felix frowned at him questioningly and the boy smirked, unwrapping his fingers and giving his hip a squeeze.

"Turn over."

Oh.

Releasing Isaac's cock, Felix rolled over on the bed, shuffling to get comfortable as Isaac's hands roamed the knots around his shoulders. Felix groaned as he began to massage him, relishing in the firm pressure that released the tension across his back, along with the constant prod against his arse. Once Isaac reached that particular area, Felix felt his cheeks part as his cock slid between them and he gripped the bed sheet tightly and groaned. He was so wound up and desperate for his friend's cock he contemplated begging, but he let him take his sweet time exploring his body, sighing with relief when Isaac finally probed warm, wet fingers into his entrance.

This wasn't his first rodeo, having various fumblings with older boys during his sixth year—he calmed his mind and his body followed, relaxing around Isaac's fingers as they slid into his arse with the help of a lubricant. It didn't take long to work him up to three fingers, the constant teasing of his prostate causing him to squirm and moan, seeking more.

"Isaac, please just fuck me already," he finally demanded.

The boy chuckled, smacking him hard on the arse befofe pulling his hips up to guide him into a kneeling position. He pulled his fingers out, immediately replaced by the press of the much thicker tip of his cock that made Felix's head spin. He'd never wanted anything quite as much as he wanted that girthy length buried deep inside him.

"C'mon…," he groaned.

Isaac pulled his hips back, impaling him as they both produced ear shattering moans that were sure to be heard downstairs in the common room. Felix had never felt anything so good in his life as when Isaac started to fuck him, slow and gentle but ramping up in intensity with every thrust as they lost themselves in the pleasure. He hit every spot just right, pummelling Felix into the mattress as his fingers worked bruises into his hips.

"Fuck, such a good boy taking me all, Fee," Isaac praised between heavy pants.

"H-harder…"

Isaac growled and bent over him, one hand bracing against the bed as he did as requested, fucking him hard and fast until Felix could barely form a coherent thought. He was only vaguely aware of the door opening, his bleary eyes making out a blur of copper that halted in the doorway.

"What the fuck…"

"Get out of here!"

Isaac didn't stop his thrusting, even as the horrified face of Oscar Weasley backed out of the room. Felix didn't want him to stop, he was close, so close…

"I'm gonna…"

"Yeah? Come for me," Isaac demanded.

With a strangled moan, Felix came hard, his body convulsing, hands and feet tingling as his cock leaked a stream onto the mattress below him. Seconds, minutes or hours elapsed as he whimpered into the mattress, wave upon wave of pleasure crashing down over him as Isaac continued to fuck him, chasing his own release.

"You've made such a…mess…," Isaac chuckled, the strain in his voice indicating he was nearly there.

Felix began to wriggle against him, overstimulation setting in until without warning, Felix felt a sharp tug backwards as Isaac pulled out of him and the subsequent wet splash on his skin as he came all over his back.

"Fee…Fee…shit…"

Isaac gasped his name with every pump of his hand, every last drop of his cum leaking onto Felix's limp and shaking body. The mattress dipped as Isaac collapsed onto the bed next to him, meeting his eyes once again with a satisfied grin spread across his face. Felix returned the smile before the pang of painful longing settled in his chest. He couldn't say no to those sparkling eyes, even if it cost him heartache.

#isaac cooper #felix mclaggen #hogwarts legacy oc #hogwarts legacy mc #original character

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ashes-writing-corner · 1 year ago

Text

I know, I know, I said I wasn't gonna write fanfiction in the month of November. I kinda lied.

Look season 2 of Moon Knight has been announced and I am a sucker for any and all things Oscar Isaac and the moon boys. That all being said, please enjoy this Jake Lockley and Steven Grant angst fest! If it gets enough likes/reblogs/comments, I'll do a part 2 with Marc. He was supposed to be in it but I ran out if time to write more.

TW: mention of the thought of self harm, somewhat accidental self harm, possible oocness, and probably very badly translated Spanish (yes, I used Google translate sue me....seriously don't I have nothing XD)

Perfect Little Punching Bag

Love.

Hate.

There was always such a fine line between them. Was love always so fickle? Was hate always so non linear? Not helping matters was that all too often, the two emotions blended in a painful mix for him.

It used to hurt. It used to hurt a lot…

At least Steven had been sold some kind of illusion that someone gave a rat's ass about him. Happiness based on a lie was no way to live, sure, but he had it. He believed someone cared about him, the person who was supposed to care for them the most.

The same person he was created to protect their body from: their own mother.

The two had their roles, and while they were close, they never actually met. Steven protected Marc Spector's heart, as in the center of the innermost feeling. Jake was created with no such blissful delusion. No. There was no comfort, no care for Jake Lockley. He was created to protect the physical body from all means of harm.

When Wendy screamed, he would hear without truly listening. When she whipped or beat him, he'd feel it without reacting. No. He could not, and would not, let her win. Although his young throat would burn with the urge to roar and fight back, at the time he knew he stood no chance. He would lay there in the aftermath, wide eyed, his back and everywhere else burning and welted. But she did not win.

She never won when it came to Jake. She did not see his tears. She wouldn't ever see them. And if she didn't, no one else surely would.

Where had he found his first blade again? Oh yes, he had taken it out of one of Marc's old pencil sharpeners. Jake had snagged the smallest screwdriver he could find so he could take it out. After every beating, every screaming session, when Jake felt strong enough again, he'd lift the rug in his alter's bedroom and carve another tally into the floor. Jake didn't know why he had kept track, there wasn't a point, but even now, he kept track of the many times he won, the times he cracked but never shattered. He had thought of using the blade several times on himself, but knew that would go against his purpose. Why cause more damage to a body he was supposed to defend? No, no…the floor was covered under that rug with evidence of his wrath.

Hate was an easy emotion. He was born in and from it, molded by it. If he felt it most of the time could he really call it hate? Hate at his abusive mother and enabling father. Hate at his alters for their closeness from which he was excluded. Hate at the world for molding him into this…this monster. He understood this was his lot in life, to be this hated and hateful monster, and for the longest time Jake never objected. It was his job in life and in the system. He knew his place.

But overtime, it began to slowly take its toll.

Jake was all too aware of the hole in his heart, if he could even call it that anymore. It was more than that now. A gaping, bloody maw that roared to be fed or else it would consume him. It was why he did what he did as brutally as he did it. Feed the maw, kill the pain inside. That was the deal. But no matter how much he did, or what he tried, it would come back with a vengeance eventually, angry at its suppression and hungry all over again. Longing consumed him, and icy loneliness gripped at his heart. It was bearable, but only to a certain extent. Again, it was his lot in life.

But then Marc met Layla, falling in love. Oh Jake hated him for that. Marc had the nerve, the gall, the AUDACITY to attempt to be happy while Jake rotted in the excess of HIS despair?! He could stand it when one of his alters was happy. He was okay with either Steven or Marc being happy but not both of them at the same time! How was that fair?! Even if Steven's happiness was built on illusion, he still HAD it. He felt a semblance of it, a taste of it.

But there was no such thing as that for Jake Lockley. Never. He wasn't created to be loved. He was never meant to BE happy. He was the monster Marc created for his own darker tendencies, a way for him to subdue his conscience to do his mercenary work.

Sometimes, Jake would think about trying to approach one of or maybe both of them. Jake would imagine it, talking himself up a bit, trying to think of what he would tell them, and hope that the two alters would find something in him worth accepting. But oh no Khonshu couldn't let that happen. The moon god poured poison in Jake's ear, which dripped slowly to the maw in his heart…

“Do you really think those two idiots care about you? If they did, wouldn't they have freed you in the Duat? Wouldn't they have added your heart to the scales to be weighed? Wouldn't they have gone back for you? You know exactly how they would react” Khonshu pointed out and would fill Jake's head with horrid illusions of their reactions.

Steven was always afraid of him, no matter what he tried. Marc was disgusted most of the time, and unsympathetic, like a cold and uncaring master kicking his dog. Well, a kicked dog could only take so much before lashing out, seeing enemies everywhere. The moon god had succeeded in turning Jake against the other two…

Or so he thought.

It was in a deep state of meditation that he was found. In the darkest corner of Marc Spector's mind was Jake Lockley's own personal hell, his domain. No longer in that damn sarcophagus, it was replaced with a dark room, a small closet more like, with tally marks all over the walls. Countless numbers of them. Jake couldn't keep track of them anymore.

Some ‘victories’ they were indeed.

Of the alters, it was Steven who found him first. Sweet Steven Grant with his damn heart of gold…why did it have to be him?! Sitting in that corner, wallowing in his despair, with the maw begging to be fed again. It was always so damn hungry now…

Steven looked at the wretched place, concern etched into his features. But he knew they both needed answers. Who the hell was this and what did they want? There was blood all over the floor and tally marks carved in all four walls from floor to ceiling. A shadow sat facing a corner, uncaring about the horror around him. A single light bulb on a string was the only light in that room and it was dull, fading. It looked like something out of a horror movie. Steven trembled as he approached the shadow in the corner.

“Hey…hey there, you okay?” He managed to speak out despite what he was looking at.

Jake let out something that sounded like a growl. “Salir…”. (Go away)

“I'm sorry wha-”.

“Get out…¡ahora!”. (Now!)

“Whoa! Whoa…whoa….okay! Someone is very protective of their space-”.

“Salir! No volveré a preguntar!” Jake found the small pencil sharpeners blade close by. (Get out, I won't ask again!)

Steven squinted trying to figure out what it was he was holding. “Okay first of all, English please, and second, I have no idea what that is but I'd appreciate it if you put it back. I didn't come here looking for a fight” he said, trying to keep his voice stable and somewhat gentle.

“Go away, Steven. This isn't where you belong…”.

“If I dare say it, you don't belong here either”.

Jake scoffed. “I'm a part of this too”.

“What do you-no! I meant you don't belong in here you big doofus!”.

He hardly gave any mind as he walked along the bloody floor to approach Jake, still facing the corner with the small blade in his hand. Steven felt this oddly familiar feeling with this shadow, this thing. He looked at all the tally marks, and gently brushed his hand against them.

“What are these?” Steven asked.

“Victories…” Jake answered, though he didn't dare look at him, not directly.

From his peripheral vision, however, he could see the man with a softer version of his own hardened face frown, his eyes soft with sadness, not fear. Why wasn't he afraid? Khonshu said he'd be afraid!

“Victories over what?” He asked, “cause from where I'm standing this doesn't look like victory”.

“Would you prefer if I said they were kills?” He asked in kind, keeping his tone dark, even if inside he was trembling.

The maw was quiet. Deathly so.

“No…no i think we can stick with victories for now” Steven answered and looked around nervously, unsure of what to say. He decided that skipping the limbo would probably be the best way to go.

“Are you a third one? Are you like me?” He asked.

“Podrías decirlo…” Jake replied bitterly, his hand clenching around the blade, not caring about its sharp sting. (You could say that)

Steven frowned. “I don't like the sound of that but I'm assuming that's a yes…and a very angry one. Hey…you don't have to stay here, you know that right?”.

Jake scoffed, attempting to ignore the pain in his palm. He wanted to turn the blade on Steven, to at least give him a taste of his pain. Maybe it would even piss Marc off enough to get his attention! Oh…wouldn't that be fun? Because as much as he despised and envied Steven, he absolutely hated Marc for his wretched existence. And hurting them both would feel amazing in the moment...

“This is where I belong” he answered simply.

“Who says?” Steven asked, “you don't deserve this. What's your name?”.

“It doesn't matter”.

“It matters to me, and it definitely matters to Marc-”.

Jake scoffed louder at that. “He doesn't care about me. He doesn't give a damn about me. Nadie hace…”. (No one does)

“That's not true! He just doesn't know about you! Look, if I can get us all here at the same time-”.

“Not on our life! It's bad enough you're here!”.

Steven frowned deeply at that, looking quite hurt. “You didn't want us to find you, didn't you? Why?”.

The look on the alter's face was bitter and angry. His eyes, one brown and the other a deep red, were sharp and could cut deeper than any knife. He looked so much like them and yet was so distinctively different. Something in him looked…tired. Tired and sad. Like all he wanted to do was rest.

Despite everything, deep down Jake didn't want to hurt either of them. Looking at Steven now, it made that long suppressed longing come back in small waves at first. Years of telling himself he didn't care about their approval, their “love”, came back to bite Jake in the face in the most vicious way.

He didn't hate his alters.

No, in fact, something in him loved them, which was why he still did what he was meant to do.

So no, hate wasn't what he felt.

To his surprise, Jake realized that he didn't hate them. What he felt was envy, a deep seated, rooted jealousy aimed at them. Sure there was some resentment there as well, but envy was definitely the stronger of the two. Since their excursion to the Duat, this envy had only grown, the roots taking a stronger deeper hold of Jake's heart. He was jealous of the bond they shared, even if it seemed out of whack in the beginning. When they all took down Harrow together, despite having done most of the work, he wasn't included in that victory. Since then, Jake had been a shadow on the outskirts of their peaceful life…

“A stress ball…”.

Steven looked confused. “What?”.

“You asked Marc if you were some kind of stress ball or something not too long ago…”.

Steven looked at him and squinted. “Wait…the Duat? You were there? Hold on a minute! Was that you in the other sarcophagus?! The one trying to get out?!”.

His nod hit Steven like a freight train. They had left him there. They abandoned him.

“I'm so sorry. If I'd known-”.

“Be lucky you were that. An emotional fucking stress ball. At least you were fed an illusion she cared about you”.

Steven's hurt turned right away to offense. “Excuse me?! You think I liked learning about that?! I feel like the truth-”.

“If you knew the truth you would've never survived-”.

“I survived just fine thanks! If there's something you wanna say then say-”.

With the utmost viciousness he could muster, Jake hissed back: “Te odio!”. (I hate you!)

Steven almost flinched back. He barely understood a lick of Spanish, but judging from the harshness of his tone and the anger on his face, it didn't take a genius to know what he meant. Not helping matters was the sadness in Jake's eyes. More than anger, more than bitterness or envy, he was just sad.

“I don't hate you” Steven told him, “even if you hate me” he put a gentle hand on Jake's shoulder.

Jake brushed it off, trying to keep his angry and hateful glare. Steven wasn't falling for it, as he again put a hand on his shoulder.

“I don't hate you” Steven repeated, “a little wigged out but…no, I don't hate you. I want to help you, and I know Marc does too-”.

“He. Doesn't. Care. He used me as his shield! I'm nothing to him! I'm just a…a punching bag. That's all I've ever been!” his voice broke, as his sadness took a hold, “just a perfect little stoic punching bag!”

It wasn't fair. It wasn't! He deserved to be loved, at least just a little. He deserved to have a life outside this hell his alter condemned him to. He'd do anything for it, to be more than just…well…this! He dropped the blade from his hand, hissing in pain as the cut was deeper than he thought it would be. It fell to the bloody floor with a soft clink and Steven was quick to kick it away before Jake could grab for it again. The softer alter hugged him tightly, the same one the moon god told Jake would be afraid of him, catching him entirely off guard.

“No more…none of that. It's gonna be okay. I'm here for you…I'm here” Steven hugged him tightly, a hand going through the others hair.

Jake clung to him like a man drowning, like Steven was his only support. Then it got worse: the tears came. Tears of anger, sadness, envy, and frustration, it was a horrid mess of emotions. Ones he didn't like feeling, ones the maw threatened to swallow him in. His body wracked with sobs as Steven hugged and comforted him.

“I'm so sorry…we never should've left you. We didn't-”.

“You didn't know, I know. I was…I was s-scared”.

Steven looked confused. “Scared? You?”.

“Something-something like that” he managed to say, “I just wanted…something. I-I don't know-”.

“It's alright. You don't need to tell us yet if you don't want to. I'm glad I found you” Steven parted from him briefly, “never did tell me your name”.

“Jake…my name's Jake”.

“Jake” Steven smiled warmly, “well…we gotta see about getting you and Marc in the same close headspace”.

Jake shook his head. “I can't. He won't…he'd never accept-”.

“None of that now. Look at me. I'm not a stress ball. You're not a punching bag. It's gonna be okay. We're a part of each other”.

The softness of his tone and his reassuring words tore down what was left of the wall around Jake Lockley's heart. A wall he'd been building since he formed in Marc Spector's mind, many were the times he wished he could take it down without fear of rejection.

“Don't be afraid. We'll talk to him” Steven assured him, “he's gotten a lot better at listening”.

His nerves were a bit fried but Jake nodded. “Alright…I trust you”.

He could only dare hope his trust wasn't misplaced…

#moon knight #jake lockley #steven grant #marc spector #moon knight fanfic #marvel mcu #mcu fanfiction #angst #hurt/comfort

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dailyreverie · 2 years ago

Note

10. "Do you still believe in Santa?"

-maybe w/ Jake Lockley🌙

Thx:)

A/N: A tiny blurb with our boy Jake. I really hope you like it, thanks for requesting!! (Is the gif jake Lockley tm? No, but I have to work with what we've got and that is Oscar Isaac wearing a beret)

☃️ December Writing Challenge! 🎄

Day 10: “Do you really still believe in Santa?”

Pairing: Jake Lockley x fem. reader

Word Count: 601 words

Warnings: Super small mentions of blood and violence (this is Jake after all...)

It was rare to see Jake being the one to get home. Most of the time you had Marc slumping through the door frame silently asking for your care; other times it was Steven, whimpering and almost immediately falling into the bed with the only request of having you join him by his side; but when it came to Jake, you never really knew what to do.

It had been snowing all day, freezing air chilling your bones, and even though you were worried about them you had to admit that it warmed your heart to think maybe it was Jake coming to you this time because he needed that little extra help, that warm welcome you always give to either one of your boys. He stood by the door mumbling something in Spanish, something you could only blame on the cold December air since his nose was red and he kept rubbing his gloved hands together in between trying to take the gloves off.

When you reached his side he tried to pull his hands away, blood and grime could reach your hands, and he didn’t want to out you through that. “Hey, it’s fine. I just want to help.” You assured him, to which he only replied with a grunt.

“No, no. No te preocupes [Don’t worry].” Jake tried again, his voice rich and raspy reaching your ears even though it was almost a whisper.

“Let me,” you gave him a glance from under your eyelashes that made him realize you were not there to argue, one that made him sigh in defeat and let your hands do their job against his; he was not used to your warm skin against his, to your soft fingertips against his palm - that was something for the other two guys, he was there for a wholly different purpose, but Jake knew you saw right through that.

“These could use an upgrade.” You said referring to his dirty gloves. The fabric was worn against his palms, and there were stains on them that you knew were not coming out no matter what.

He let out a little chuckle, one to win him more time since he was too busy looking at you. “These are fine, no necesito más [I don’t need more].”

“Well, who knows, maybe Santa will get you new ones.” You freed his hands, throwing the gloves aside and rubbing his hands with yours, sharing some of your warmth with him.

“Ay, ay, ay, mi amor. Do you really still believe in Santa?”

“I believe in Christmas miracles.” You kissed his knuckles after, not missing the way his eyes crinkled by the corners with a smile. “Besides, I used to not believe in ancient gods, how did that work out?”

“Ay, mi vida.” Jake shook his head, hiding the smile of endearment that was starting to creep up his face. Changing positions, his hands cupped yours to lift them and kiss your palms. “Where do I send my letter then? I might need a few things.”

“Don’t worry, I got you covered.” Standing on your tiptoes you reached his rosy cheek, this time much warmer than when he got home.

“Even me?” He asked, afraid of the answer.

“Especially you.” The loving smile he sent your way was as rare as his appearances, but one you would treasure forever for another cold afternoon. It was brief and quick, since not short after Marc started fronting this time, but that little moment with Jake was enough to remind you both that you’re still there, waiting for each other after every long day.

🌙❄️🌙❄️🌙❄️🌙❄️🌙❄️🌙❄️🌙❄️🌙❄️

Thanks for reading! Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed it!

#jake lockley x reader #jake lockley fluff #jake lockley fanfiction #moon knight x reader #moon knight fanfiction

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fouralignments · 1 year ago

Note

I know we've haven't talked much but...um Hi.

Hello!!

Its been a rough year a lot of deaths in the family, its a battle with my mental health, learning that my friend Nick is rather smitten with his new girlfriend and will not take no for an answer for why I am not dating after telling him so many times, I am not dating and being aro-ace makes it harder; He's a Nondenominational Protestant Christian he's a very sweet guy and we've been friends since uni; I wouldn't call it a falling out, but he's very ardent as to why he wasn't invented to my sister's wedding like he only met them once or twice.

I am more of myself online and with my sister & her fiancé; where I can be kinky and open.

But things are looking better, I have a side hustle of cookie baking and selling them to hair salons, every other week, so I have a little money coming in. I'm looking forward to having a puppy in the spring that I know will be demanding many walks throughout the day because of all that energy and training her up to a psychiatric/autism/anxiety service doggo, who will give love and always be happy, cuddle and help me physicalize my mental illness; have someone to talk to, even though its myself. I will def post pics of her on my blog.

Currently on chapter 9 its 15 pages and 5997 words and I'm still not done; its coming together and I've been on a role. There many refences to Dune, that are blatant, the OG X-Men Trilogy, Spiderman 2099 and its also win because I got to look at pics of Oscar Isaac, I want this man to play more Dad characters, for reference because I like describing shit. I am still mad that turned that gorgeous man into Ivan Ooze's long lost brother. Like Fox how dare you!

#ask 4align #more personal answer

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ladybug023 · 2 years ago

Text

Hector’s Son Ricardo

Oscar Isaac, he looks like Hector but he also has those sad boi eyes

Rico's story:

He is Hector’s only son, which put a lot of pressure on him. Out of all of the 2nd generation Salamancas, he got the worst of Hector. He grew up suffocated by his father’s expectations and is a couple of years younger than Lalo, who lost his parents at a young age and was raised more like a big brother than a cousin to Rico. Despite having to compete with Lalo for Hector’s affection and attention, Lalo loved Ricky and tried to protect him from Hector’s constant abuse by making excuses for him. Hector would have the two boys fight, calling it training, and although Lalo would always win and beat Rico bloody, he would patch Rico up when it was over.

Rico's mother was docile and kind but also a pushover. Hector resented her for not being fertile, but he never left her. Rico always resented Hector for how he treated his mother. Rico was the one who got to name Tuco when he was born, picking the name Tulio, and he loved spending time with little Tulio. He did his best to shield Tuco from Hector’s influence, but Hector later twisted the name into Tuco.

Ricardo hated killing, having seen too much violence in his youth, which made him hate his father even more. He was the most moral Salamanca. Hector saw him as weak because of this and blamed it on his mother’s weakness. Like Nacho Varga, he dreamed of a life outside the blood and violence that came with being a Salamanca.

Ricardo met Joaquin’s mother, who was his parole officer. When she became pregnant with Joaquin, Ricardo wanted out of the game. Hector was so enraged that he even threatened Joaquin’s mother and then disowned Rico.

Lalo helped them escape from Hector to Spain, but they didn’t hide well enough, and the Peruvians found them. Lalo tried to rescue them, but Ricardo was killed. As a result, Lalo brought baby Joaquin and his mother back to Mexico.

Rico died young, and although Hector misses his son and regrets how he treated him, he’d rather die than admit it. If someone brings it up, he’ll only mention bad things about Rico. Lalo remembers him fondly and only speaks positively about his surrogate little brother. He understands that Rico was good, but just not cut out for their world. "Rico was a decent man, too decent to belong to this family."

#hector salamanca #better call saul #lalo salamanca #tuco salamanca #oc Ricardo Salamanca #joaquin salamanca #salamanca family

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dailymilesmorales · 2 years ago

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Lord and Miller tease the return of Miles Morales in Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse

Multiverses: They're very hot right now. Between Everything Everywhere All at Once, Spider-Man: No Way Home, and Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness, Hollywood sure loves a trippy tale that bounces between dimensions.

But no movie does it quite like 2018's Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, the innovative animated film about teenage web-slinger Miles Morales (voiced by Shameik Moore). When the original first swung into theaters, it almost immediately became an instant classic, reenergizing the genre and winning the Oscar for Best Animated Film. It's everything a superhero movie can and should be: ambitious, colorful, heartfelt, and deeply funny.

Now, Miles and his fellow Spideys are back — and they're about to face their biggest threat yet.

The first of two planned sequels, Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse, is scheduled to hit theaters June 2, 2023, and anticipation has never been higher. For EW's 2023 Preview, we caught up with screenwriter-producers Phil Lord and Chris Miller, who teased the next chapter in Miles' adventure, one that follows a slightly older teenage hero as he juggles growing pains with the high-stakes responsibilities of "great power."

"As he's growing up, he's trying to figure out how he can go out and see the world and spread his wings and leave the nest," Miller, 47, explains. "But he also feels rooted to his home and his family. It's that push-pull of your life as a teenager, where you're like, How do I get to be my own person, but also not lose where I came from?"

Fortunately for Miles, he's not navigating that journey alone. If the first film followed a squad of different Spider-People as they traveled to Miles' universe, this one finds Miles venturing into the multiverse himself. As he swings across dimensions — each with its own unique art style — he meets countless other Spideys. (Lord and Miller don't have a final number, but between major roles and brief cameos, they estimate about 240 unique characters were designed and modeled for Across the Spider-Verse.)

A number of familiar voices are back, as Miles reunites with Spider-Gwen (voiced by Hailee Steinfeld) and Peter B. Parker (Jake Johnson). He also links up with new allies, like Jessica Drew's Spider-Woman. Insecure's Issa Rae voices Jessica, a motorcycle-riding phenomenon who helps mentor Gwen. "A lot of work has gone into making that character look great," Lord, 47, adds. "If you've ever been around Issa, she's such a dynamo of talent and grace, so you just want to make the character look as cool as she is."

Oscar Isaac takes an expanded role as Miguel O'Hara, a.k.a. Spider-Man 2099, who made a brief cameo in the first film's end-credits scene. Lord and Miller say that Miguel and Miles have a lot in common, but they don't always see eye to eye — especially when it concerns the safety of the multiverse. "He's not the villain of the movie, but he's sort of an antagonist to Miles because they both think that what they're doing is the right thing," Miller teases.

As for the actual villain? Jason Schwartzman voices the Spot, a cryptic baddie with the ability to create portals between different dimensions. With his goofy, almost dalmatian-like costume, he isn't necessarily an A-list comic book villain. But Lord and Miller say the Spot's trippy powers make him "a perfect character for animation," with abilities that allow him to bend reality almost like an old Wile E. Coyote cartoon.

"I like the villains best when they reflect the journeys of the hero — sort of a dark mirror of the protagonist," Lord adds. "And I think Spot's no different. He wants to be seen as legitimate. He's a character that has a silly costume and is not always seen as the top tier of Spider-Man foes, but like all of us, he wants to be taken seriously."

Still, despite all the jaw-dropping animation and clever cameos, Lord and Miller stress that Across the Spider-Verse is Miles' story, first and foremost.

"Even with all the whizzbang parts, we're always trying to look for ways to make them scenes between characters," Lord says. "That's the thing that everybody wants, which is so surprising to me. I never expected the star of [the first] movie to be people talking together in dramatic scenes. But that's the thing that people are most interested in."

"Really, the hardest thing is making sure that you've got a story that you care about and that you're emotionally connected to," Miller adds. "Without that, you've got nothing.

#movies #movies: spiderman across the spiderverse #stills #articles

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burkeandblops · 2 years ago

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EUSTACE BURKE AGE: 41 BIRTHDAY: August 7, 1945 GENDER: non-binary BLOOD STATUS: Pure blood PREVIOUS SCHOOL: Hogwarts School, Slytherin OCCUPATION: Healer at St. Mungos ALLEGIANCE: The Cabal MAGICAL SPECIALIZATION: Necromancer SUGGESTED FACE CLAIMS: Oscar Isaac

PENSIEVE

Eustace Burke was born into the Burke Family, a lineage with strong ties to the dark arts and the Slytherin house. His parents, Boudicea and Leopold Burke didn't have any other children, and he was his uncle Caractacus favourite nephew since he was a child. With a lot of potential in his blood and the expectations of the family on him, it was only obvious that he was sorted into the Slytherin house when he joined Hogwarts.

Eustace grew up having a special disposition toward potions and herbology, being his favorite subjects at school. He didn't have to make much effort to do right in his studies or make friends wherever he went, as he possessed a certain charm and disposition with everybody that approached him. This bright and charming side he developed after seeing how his family had more of a brooding and dark attitude towards people, making it hard for them to thrive in some circles.

Deep inside, Eustace wanted to be liked, admired, and adored, so he made sure to work on the right connections at school, and detach, in some way, from the usual Slytherin reputation of being intimidating and cunning. Don't get him wrong, he IS all those things, but he doesn't see the need in showing them, especially if what he wants to do is achieve greatness and more power.

So, it wasn't weird that when Voldemort started gaining popularity, Eustace was there, not first but certainly in line to cooperate. He wasn't a death eater per se, but he liked to see himself as a collaborator. In his mind, joining the most powerful side at the moment was winning in all aspects. Thanks to his last name, as well as his credentials, he was appointed the role of spy, working at St. Mungos applying his knowledge as a healer, and developing connections with Order of the Phoenix members, as well as the Ministry.

During this time of affiliation with the death eaters, he was careful not to be too visible as one, understanding the implications for his popularity in case there was a downfall... which was the case. Somehow, he came out unscathed but disappointed in the sloppiness of putting all his eggs in one basket... Until he caught wind, through his good friend Verucca Buckthorn-Snyde of a new revolution: The Cabal.

Joining such a select secret society not only was attractive to him, but it was also the kind of power and control he was craving. His charms and being friends with people in high places allowed Eustace to get a place of importance and power in the Cabal, still keeping his "cover" job as a healer at St Mungo's, he's always in the loop of the latest happenings in the wizarding world. His allegiance to the Cabal may seem fickle to some, but deep inside he sees the project as part of him and his loyalty now lies with that secretive crowd.

For Eustace, the war seems to be just starting, and keeping tabs on all the key players is essential for survival.

PERSONALITY

Elegant, charming and incredibly smart, Eustace never passes ignore in any social gathering or visit he pays. Being the embodiment of what a true gentleman should be holds a dark past and a rather complicated character: full of prejudices, he always finds all faults in everybody but him and finds it hard to accept his own flaws. He's got distant manners, and his large personal sense of pride, expresses itself pretty often as arrogance, but inside, he is a really caring man, willing to do anything for the ones he loves most (but these people he can count with the fingers of ONE hand).

On a bad day Eustace is silent, sharp like a knife, say the wrong thing and he'll have the perfect and most hurtful remark brought from the past to hit where it hurts the most. However, getting to this instance with him is very hard. Aware of these dark tendencies, instead of giving in, he suppresses all negative impulses and keeps them to himself, image is everything and he would not risk hurting a profitable relationship for a simple anger bust. But the anger is there and he is scared of the repercussions it may have if he lets the beast out.

On the other hand, on a good day, which is almost every day, Eustace shows a helpful, charming facade. Getting people to trust and confide in him is one of his favourite things, and feeling needed by others drives him. Working in the "service" industry has taught him that the power of words is even stronger than some spells (although, he specializes in nonverbal magic as well, just for the economy of words).

Amortentia The ocean, beach sand and tropical summer nights

Boggart Being ignored and not listened to

Campbell’s character archetypes The everyman. Seeks connections and belonging; is recognized as supportive, faithful and down-to-earth.

Celtic zodiac Salmon - Intuitive, goal-oriented and fun-loving

Chinese zodiac Rooster - Punctual, sense of humor, caring.

Patronus An eagle

Western zodiac Sun in Leo - Eager for attention, charming, the soul of the party, enthusiastic, entrepreneurial, and a leader by nature. Vain and a little careless with other people's feelings. Scorpio Rising - Cunning in appearance, sharp, interesting, and enigmatic at times. Looks like someone you would confide all your secrets to, deep inside all he wants is to use those secrets to manipulate you. Moon in Leo - Needs validation and public recognition for his achievements. Seeks security in the world through his social status and career. Nurtures others through his work and voluntary role.

#prophesy.task001 #intro

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gcdeater · 1 year ago

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𝒉𝒆, 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒎𝒆, 𝒊𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕.

oscar isaac . cis man . he/him ➶ DID YOU SEE THEM ?! they’re finally back as a SPECTATOR , and you know they’re one of my favourites ! it’s FINNICK ODAIR , the FORTY-THREE year old WINNER of the SIXTY-FIFTH hunger games! i’m just so excited to see them returning to the capitol all the way from DISTRICT FOUR ! they won their games using A TRIDENT / CHARISMA so their tributes will no doubt be desperate for their wisdom. the capitol just loved them for being so CHARMING , even if they have been known to be ARROGANT at times. they DO have a relative in this years games . ( character IS part of the uprising )

STATS

name: finnick odair birthday: august 13th zodiac: leo sun, pisces moon, libra rising gender: cis-man pronouns: he/him orientation: bisexual biromantic role: victor of the sixty-fifth hunger games district: four family: annie cresta (wife), gill cresta-odair (son), sinead odair ☠ (mother), callahan odair ☠ (father), desmond odair ☠ (brother), enya odair ☠ (sister) faceclaim: oscar isaac

PERSONALITY

positive traits: charismatic, loyal, dedicated, generous, considerate, steadfast, protective, adventurous negative traits: egoistic, haunted, overbearing, dramatic, paranoid, vindictive moral alignment: chaotic good mbti: enfj-a (the protagonist) enneagram: x temperament: x deadly sin: pride heavenly virtue: kindness parallels: brian o’connor (fast and furious), westley (the princess bride), nairobi (money heist), poe dameron (star wars: last jedi)

BACKGROUND

cw: murder, ptsd, implied coercion, implied sex work

You learn your way around a knot long before a book. Your parents insisted on taking all of their kids on the water in infancy. Learning to swim always preceded learning to walk. You remember being on the ship's floor, tying knots alongside your brother and sister, constantly competing to decide who’s most proficient at net making.

The trident comes when you’re 4. It’s a common occurrence, so much so that they make child-sized tridents for this reason. Your parents teach you to fish this way, never out of necessity. The fullest meaning of their teachings would evade you until adolescence.

Your family manages to become so close-knit that you often forget you’re a family of careers. When not at specialty schools founded to produce career victors, you are spending time with family and friends, moving relatively freely throughout your district.

You are dually mischievous and beloved. You earn the adoration and disdain of other teens your age. Your friends are as plentiful as your crushes and misbehavior. As are the broken hearts left in your wake.

District 4 is more rebellious than most. You are given hundreds of reasons to despise them long before you can do anything about it. When the time came for you to win the games, you’d begin destroying it from the inside out.

When you’re 14, your younger sister is reaped. The intention was always for your older brother to volunteer in either of your places, but you, cheeky as ever, beat him to volunteering when the moment came. A mixture of panic and amusement appears to overcome your family.

You are cheeky and charming throughout the entire process. These qualities, alongside a visage kissed by the gods, earn you the favor of an entire nation. You simply do what you do best, and that makes people adore you.

The tropical arena almost perfectly suits your skillset. You make do with spears and knives at the beginning of the game. You are daringly solo throughout the entirety of it, not wanting to be hindered by another person.

When a sponsor gifts the trident, things go indefinitely in your favor. You’d trained almost your entire life for this moment. Deadly with the trident, it becomes an extension of your arms in your best moments. You begin creating nets with the jungle vines, using them to capture unsuspecting victors before finishing them off with your trident. This effort is eventually enough to carry you to victory.

At first, victory is better than you could’ve ever expected. You are reunited with your family in the Victors’ Village, returning home to new lodgings even better than the last ones. You attend to your victor duties in the Capitol as necessary. You don’t realize how much they take a toll on you initially. The nightmares from the games are something else you’re unprepared for. You hadn’t expected your fellow competitors to continue living alongside you.

Some time after you’re twenty, President Snow presents you with an offer. Provide your company to wealthy capitolites. Don’t comply, and watch your family be massacred one by one. You bite your tongue, choosing cooperation until an alternative arises.

Doting touches in exchange for the highest form of currency: secrets. In the Capitol, they are frequent and plentiful. You collect them for your own purposes and in the name of rebellion. The general public is none the wiser. To them, you’ve merely collected a plethora of lovers since your victory.

Somewhere down the line, you make the mistake of falling in love. You begin a mentor and leave a lover. The only difference is that you crave her love above all else. So much so that it inspires you to cut ties with the life you’ve made in the Capitol once and for all.

There are mixed feelings surrounding your retirement, but an overarching acceptance that they would no longer have your company. You marry your beloved, using a portion of your earnings for a familial home. Even amidst the haunting, you always knew you wanted a family. When your son is born, your family adores him with as much veracity as they loved you.

Your biggest mistake is allowing yourself to be complacent — even for a moment. You return to your childhood home, only to discover your family’s been massacred. You scramble for a reason, one which President Snow readily provides you. Leaving the Capitol was never up to you. The official reason is cited as rebel activity, though you understand best of all the underlying reasons.

The remainder of your life is led in caution. You are weary of keeping others close, choosing instead to dedicate most of your time to what family you have left. Tragedy warps your personhood further. An air of reclusiveness that wasn’t there prior. You toe the line between the uprising and your familial duties. At every moment, you can’t help but wonder—

What comes next? The weight of the sky already rests upon your shoulders.

FUN FACTS

While Finnick is wholly against raising children as careers, he ensures Gill is equipped with proper survival skills.

Is a seafood connoisseur. The best person to whip up a seafood dish.

Finnick is in tiptop shape. In a way, he never stopped training for the games, even long after it was over. He continues to be an avid swimmer and a master with the trident.

Is very much dadcore. Has special shoes just for grilling, and a plethora of Hawaiian shirts for vacations he’ll never go on. He’s more of a wine guy than a beer man, but what he lacks in IPA knowledge, he makes up for in dad jokes.

Finnick’s been plagued with nightmares since immediately after the games. He tries to disguise them from the wider public, but it’s become increasingly difficult recently.

PLOT HOOKS

childhood friends / adolescent crushes / short lived relationships (prior to 23) / victor friends he made in the capitol / someone he knows secrets about / enemies he made in the capitol / unlikely capitolite friends / other middle aged people with kids to be friends with / an unofficial dad club (not limited to dads, welcome to anyone who enjoys embarrassing their kids around their crushes and owns a pair of grilling sandals)

#intro / finnick

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