#Benny miller x frankie morales

[alltheirdamn]

Couch Chronicles | One Shot

Frankie Morales x f!reader x Benny Miller

Summary: When you accidentally tell your boyfriend, Frankie, that you think his best friend is cute... he makes a plan. Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 4.2k Warnings: strictly smut, established relationship, threesome, mmf dynamic, heavy kissing, a stupid amount of neck kissing, nipple play, oral (f! and m! receiving), fingering, choking, rough sex, cum eating, deepthroat, unprotected piv sex, multiple creampies, degrading kink (very mild), praise kink, pet names (pretty girl, baby, babygirl), language, men whimpering (i know) A/N: I want two boyfriends, and I want the boyfriends to be boyfriends... yeah, you guys know how it goes. idk I had an idea, tossed some words together, and here we are. not my finest work and probably a lil shitty in terms of technicality, but I was craving a good trip to Paris.

Masterlist | Ko-fi

You were lying in bed with Frankie one night, scrolling through social media, when you came across a new post from Benny. It was from a recent fishing trip down to the lake, and he was shirtless, holding a large trout in his hand. You tapped on the screen twice, liking the photo and spending an extra few seconds staring at his tall frame and shaggy blonde hair doused in sunlight. 

“You know he is pretty cute,” you said aloud, showing Frankie the photo.

Frankie and Benny were close, best friends even. You had spent time with him here and there over the years at barbecues and small group settings. He was always friendly and welcomed you into the group with open arms. You and Frankie had been dating for a while now, and you were well aware of his past with the group of men and the missions they had gone on. But now he was home for good, making a living for himself and staying clean. 

“Do you ever think about fucking him?” Frankie asked casually, glancing from the screen to your face.

“Frankie, oh my God!” You gasped. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

You gaped at him, shutting off your phone and placing it on the nightstand.

“Hey, I wasn’t asking to start an argument,” he said coolly. “It was a genuine question.”

You shrunk into the pillows, turning to face him. He nestled against his own pillow, holding your gaze and giving you a small grin. His hair had grown shaggy at the ends, sticking up behind his ears and curling at the base of his neck. You lifted a hand to scratch at the patchy beard covering his jaw, biting your lip as you navigated a response in your head.

“No, I haven’t thought about it,” you exhaled. “Okay, maybe I have once or twice. Fuck—I don’t know. Not in a fuck him and leave you type of way.”

“You know I wouldn’t be mad if you did,” Frankie replied. “Fuck him, I mean.”

“What?” You balked, eyes growing wide.

He only shrugged his shoulders, shifting close to you in the bed.

“He’s my best friend. I’d trust him with you.”

“You’re not seriously telling me right now you want me to sleep with Benny.”

“I’m not telling you to do it,” Frankie argued. “Just saying, if you ever want to explore it, tell me. I’m sure he’s thought about it, too.”

Your face burned bright red at the thought of Benny fantasizing about you. There was no way. Frankie was messing with you.

“None of this bothers you?” You questioned.

Frankie laughed softly, hooking an arm around your leg and guiding it over his hip. You shuffled your body closer until you were both a breath apart. 

“Fuck no, baby,” he smirked, his pupils growing bigger. “Getting to see one of best friends fuck you would probably only turn me on more.”

You felt him growing harder against you, and you reached a hand down to palm his cock through his pajama bottoms. Frankie let out a soft whine, bucking his hips into your hand.

“Would you just sit back and watch?” You quirked an eyebrow. 

“I’d do whatever you want.”

Your fingers danced up his pants, teasing his waistband. You gave him a mischievous grin as you trailed lower until your hand wrapped around his cock. He groaned at your touch, his eyes rolling back.

“What if I want both of you?” You asked, pumping him slowly. “At the same time?”

Something carnal flashed across his features, and he crawled on top of you, running his mouth up your neck. You arched into him, using both hands to pull down his pants. Frankie did the same to you, tugging your sleep shorts down your legs and exploring the wetness collecting between your inner thighs.

“Pretty girl wants to get tag-teamed?” He teased. “Yeah, I can make that happen.”

You gasped at his words and let him fuck you mercilessly the rest of the night. 

You had zero clue what Frankie had told Benny, but later that week, you were situated on the couch between their warm bodies, watching some action movie. Benny kept a respectable distance while Frankie’s hand remained on your thigh, drawing slow circles over your bare skin. You were wearing one of his T-shirts and a pair of soft sleep shorts, your nerves buzzing through your body. 

You barely had the capacity to pay attention to the movie, your eyes shifting between both of the men sitting on either side of you. Frankie leaned over after a while, his breath hot against your neck.

“You call the shots, pretty girl. Whatever you wanna do, it’s your choice,” he muttered into your ear.

You let out a small gasp, glancing over at Benny. He was sitting relaxed against the couch; his legs spread open and muscular arms crossed over his chest. Your eyes trailed up his thick neck, studying his tensed jaw covered in days-old stubble and blue eyes that remained focused on the screen. You weren’t the shy type, but initiating this type of situation was way out of your comfort zone.

“Benny?” You whispered.

His gaze slid to you, his pupils already dilated.

“Yeah?” He asked, his voice deep as he said your name.

You sucked in a breath, mustering the courage to take it to the next step. 

“Kiss me,” you demanded, though it sounded a bit sheepish.

He flicked his gaze to Frankie, then back to you. Reaching a hand up to tangle in your hair, he reeled you in for a hungry kiss. You whimpered at the feel of his mouth against yours, his approach far rougher than what you were used to with Frankie. His tongue intertwined with yours as he coaxed your mouth open wider, his other hand sliding up your thigh. 

Frankie’s mouth connected with the other side of your neck, sucking marks into your flushed skin as you let out another helpless whine.

“Fuck,” Benny panted, guiding your head toward Frankie.

Frankie was quick to capture your mouth, his tongue tracing the saliva still lingering on your lips. You gasped as Benny’s mouth trailed up your neck, drawing his tongue over the erratic pulse under your jaw. 

“This what you want, baby?” Frankie asked before sinking his teeth into the plush skin of your bottom lip.

You gave him an eager nod of your head, and he brought his hand up to tilt your head, both of their mouths now hot and wet against either side of your throat. The throbbing between your thighs grew painful, and you squirmed against their roaming hands; Benny’s hand crawled up to cup your breast, Frankie’s hand teasing your aching clit over your shorts.

“Jesus Christ,” you moaned, letting your head fall back against the couch. 

“Call the shots, pretty girl,” Frankie ordered. 

You bucked your hips against his hand, searching for any form of friction to alleviate the pressure building inside your core. Benny tugged at the t-shirt covering your torso, his breath going ragged as he discovered you bare beneath the soft cotton.

His head dipped down to capture your pebbled nipple between his teeth, grinding them against your skin until you cried out from the pleasure mixing with pain. Oh, Benny was rough, and it only made you ache for more of his touch.

You glanced down at the same time his gaze lifted to yours, a grin tugging at his lips as he realized how much you liked it. Frankie, meanwhile, was working at sipping his fingers between your wet folds, sinking two fingers knuckle deep. 

“Shit,” you hissed through clenched teeth. Frankie’s fingers worked fast inside you; he knew what to do to make you completely fall apart.

But now you had another man working at you in tandem, Benny’s mouth still ravaging your breast. Your fingers tangled into his hair, your nails raking over his scalp. He let out a groan of approval, rewarding you with another bite of his teeth around your nipple.

“Feels…so fucking good…” You whispered to both men.

Frankie angled his hand so that he could push his fingers deeper, curling them against the spongy spot inside you. Searing heat coursed through your veins with each movement of his fingers, your breath coming out short and pained.

A dangerous idea floated through the fog inside your brain, and you wondered how far you could push it at the expense of your wanton needs. Tugging Benny’s hair, he released your nipple with a gentle pop and moved his lips back to yours. You sucked his bottom lip in between your teeth before diving your tongue into his mouth. Benny let out a shallow exhale, letting you steer the kiss in whatever direction you wanted. 

“Benny,” you whined. “I want your tongue inside me.”

He cursed under his breath and looked over at Frankie, who was still working you closer to the edge. Frankie’s eyes lifted to meet yours, a devilish smirk playing on his lips. He pulled his fingers from you, lifting them to your mouth.

“Clean them, pretty girl,” he ordered. 

You wrapped your mouth around his thick fingers, the salty, sweet taste of your arousal coating your tongue. You pulled your head back and looked at Benny with a lifted brow.

“Wanna taste?” You asked with a coy smile.

You expected him to pull you in for a kiss, to taste it from your mouth, but your breath stalled as you watched him grip Frankie’s wrist and guide his fingers into his mouth. Your jaw dropped open as Benny sucked on Frankie’s fingers with fervency, his eyes locked on your boyfriend. This was new. Frankie grunted as Benny dragged his tongue over the pads of his fingers, finally releasing them and settling back into the couch.

“Come here, baby,” Frankie said, shuffling his body back against one side of the couch.

He maneuvered you into his lap, your back pressed against his chest. Through heavy lids, you watched Benny tear away his shirt and put his defined abs on display. You and Frankie had been to a few of his boxing matches, and you were more than familiar with the toned figure he hid under his basic t-shirts. Your eyes roamed down his torso, studying the way his chest hair flourished between his sternum and trailed down his abdomen. You involuntarily wet your lips at the sight, wanting to take your tongue and trace every flexed muscle on his body.

“Spread your legs for me, babygirl,” Benny instructed. Hearing him call you babygirl had your mind reeling. 

You let your legs fall open and watched as Benny shuffled back to situate himself between your thighs. Frankie’s hands groped and squeezed your breasts, his fingers pinching your nipples until you gasped at the stinging pain. You tilted your head back, arching upward to meet his lips. Frankie responded with a sloppy kiss, his nose brushing over yours at the same time Benny’s tongue flicked over your aching clit.

“Fuck!” You cried, the word muffled in Frankie’s mouth.

Frankie let out a low chuckle and intertwined his fingers through the tendrils of your hair, forcing you to look down at Benny.

“Watch him while he tongue fucks you, baby,” Frankie commanded. 

Your breath hitched, and Benny took that as his opportunity to dive his tongue deep inside you. Sparks of pleasure erupted behind your eyes, and it took all your strength to keep your focus on him as he worked his tongue deeper. His eyes shot up to yours, the pale blue of his irises swallowed by his pupils. 

“Do you like that pretty girl?” Frankie crooned in your ear. “You enjoy having us both giving you all this attention?”

“Yes,” you panted, your chest rising and falling steadily as warmth spread through your stomach.

“Tell Benny how much you like it.”

Your eyes rolled back as Benny traced over your wet folds with his tongue, the heat of his mouth against your cunt sending you into a spiral. 

“I—.” You choked on your words as Benny’s lips suctioned around your clit, his tongue sending sharp rhythmic flicks across the aching bundle of nerves.

“Tell him,” Frankie growled, his hand wrapping around your throat.

“Your mouth feels so fucking good, Benny,” you gasped. “Please don’t stop… Please. Keep doing that, I’m so fucking close.”

Your words were melding together, a jumble of incoherent mumbling and humiliating whimpers. Frankie’s hand squeezed your throat tighter, restricting your breathing as Benny coaxed your orgasm closer to the surface. With Frankie’s hand around your neck and Benny’s tongue assailing your cunt, the overstimulation began to spread through your veins. 

“I know you’re close, pretty girl,” Frankie whispered in your ear. “I can feel how tense you are. Let it go, baby. Cum for us.”

His words sent the heavens crashing down around you, and your body seized upwards as your orgasm ignited a fire that raged under your skin. Benny lapped at the arousal pooling out of you, humming in satisfaction as a strangled cry left your lips. 

“Doesn’t my girl taste good, Benny?” Frankie murmured, releasing his grip on your throat.

“Fucking perfect,” Benny grinned.

You leaned your head back against Frankie’s chest, seeing his big brown eyes sparkle with lust. 

“Frankie, baby,” you whispered. “Why don’t you have a taste, too?”

Frankie started to shift you off his lap, but you pressed yourself further into his chest, leaving him looking at you confused. You glanced down at Benny and gave a subtle lift of your chin as if to silently coax him from between your thighs. He followed your lead, crawling up your body until he hovered over you and leaned in close. He braced himself against the couch with one arm while snaking the other around Frankie’s neck. You careened your neck to watch as their mouth collided, Frankie’s aquiline nose smashing against Benny’s cheek for a frenzied kiss. Frankie submitted to Benny’s control, whimpering as their tongues danced together. Your jaw went slack as you watched your boyfriend passionately kiss his best friend; oh, you fucking loved this.

Benny tore away from Frankie’s lips, bending down to trail his lips over your jaw and neck. 

“I think your man wants some attention, babygirl,” he muttered against your warm skin.

“I think so, too,” you agreed, breathless.

Both men maneuvered off the couch, taking their time to undress, while you sat back and admired both of their naked bodies. Frankie was soft in all the right areas, his dark chest hair spread across his broad torso and trailing down over the soft pudge of his stomach. His cock hung heavy between his thighs, already glistening with precum as it leaked from the tip. Your eyes shifted over to Benny, your eyes growing wide at the length of his hardened cock. While Frankie’s cock was sizable in girth, Benny made up for it with length, and the thought of his cock deep inside you only spurred you closer to another orgasm. You needed one of them to fuck you, or else you’d go crazy.

“Baby,” you whined, shuffling your body up on the couch.

Frankie gave you a smirk, the creases in the corner of his eyes appearing as he looked down on you. You snaked a hand down your navel, your fingers slipping between the wet folds as you sought out some sort of relief from the throbbing need inside you. 

Benny moved around the side of the couch, his strong hands hooking under your shoulders and dragging you back until your head hung over the arm of the couch. Upside down, you stared up at his cock as it hovered over your face. You wet your lips at the sight of it, waiting for him to inch closer. Gliding a hand over your strained neck, his fingers squeezed the right above the base of it.

“I wanna feel my cock right here, babygirl,” Benny said. “You gonna show me you can take it?”

“Yes,” you breathed.

You dropped your jaw open, your tongue darting out as you waited for him to step forward. Frankie’s body weight dropped on the couch above you, his hands lifting your legs onto his shoulder. As your calves settled onto his broad shoulders, Frankie lined himself up with your entrance. In one quick thrust, Frankie bottomed out, and you let out a raspy moan. Before you had a chance to make another sound, Benny slid his cock into your mouth, your tongue dragging against the veins along the length. You sputtered around him as he drove deeper down your throat, his fingers still massaging your neck with each shallow thrust. 

Frankie’s thrusts grew harder, and your muffled cries were silenced as Benny continued snapping his hips forward into your mouth. 

“Ain’t she so pretty like this?” Frankie grunted through each drive of his cock.

“So fucking pretty,” Benny huffed. You swallowed around him, forcing him to choke on his words. “She’s taking our cocks so well. Her mouth feels so fucking good.”

You keened at their words, arousal blooming deep within your stomach as they spoke. They were using your body any way they wanted, and you were desperate for their praise. 

“You enjoy getting used like this, baby?” Frankie asked, his voice low and strained. 

You couldn’t respond as Benny plunged his cock further down your throat, your jaw straining to take his length deeper. You could feel the tears cascading down your temples, your breath forced out of your nose as you struggled under his hold. 

“Aw, pretty girl can’t talk?” Frankie taunted. 

Frankie lifted your ass off the couch, his warm hands squeezing the supple skin as you began assaulting you with unforgiving thrusts. Your cunt clenched around his cock, sucking him in deeper until the tip of his cock brushed against your cervix. You wailed a helpless cry, saliva dripping over Benny’s cock and down your cheeks. 

Your eyes blurred as your climax grew into an inferno inside your stomach. Each thrust on either side of your body plummeted your orgasm closer and closer to the surface, your heartbeat thrumming erratically in your ears. Benny hunched over your body, his hands massaging your breasts, his fingers pinching around your nipples. You arched off the couch, and Frankie kept his grip tight on your hips as he continued railing into you.

“Gonna be a good girl and cum for us, baby?” Frankie crooned.

“Mmmph.” 

You couldn’t speak. You could barely make a coherent noise as your orgasm ignited inside of you, leaving you paralyzed—suspended between the bodies of two men that continued to wreck you completely as you came undone. 

“Such a good fucking girl,” Frankie praised.

“Think she deserves a reward?” Benny questioned, drawing his cock from your mouth.

You heaved in lung-fulls of air, drool still dripping down your face. Benny crouched behind you, his hand fisting your hair to pull your face forward toward Frankie. Frankie’s dark eyes met yours, and he pounded deeper into you, your cries turning into humiliating whimpers.

“You want Frankie to cum inside you, babygirl?” Benny whispered, his tongue tracing along the shell of your ear.

“Y—yes,” you wailed brokenly. “Please, Frankie. Need your cum.”

Frankie’s face scrunched up with concentration as he changed the tempo of his thrusts; they were slower and more powerful. Benny’s grip on your hair remained firm, not allowing you to look anywhere but at Frankie. His tousled dark curls stuck to his forehead with sweat, his jaw clenched as he forcibly thrust into you in one final time. With a carnal groan, Frankie emptied himself inside you, slumping onto your chest with labored breaths. 

“Jesus Christ,” Frankie groaned. 

Benny unwound his fingers from the tendrils of your hair, peppering your cheek and neck with kisses. Frankie lifted his head to look at Benny, and you could faintly see a smirk teasing the corner of his hips.

“I think she can take a bit more. What do you say, Benny?” Frankie grinned.

“I wanna know how good that pussy feels. You gonna let me fill you up, too?” Benny asked, his teeth grazing your neck.

“God, yes,” you exhaled.

Frankie climbed off your body and maneuvered you onto all fours. Your legs wobbled against the cushions, Frankie’s cum slowly leaking from your sore cunt. Benny made his way around the couch, climbing behind your shaking body. Frankie took his spot in front of you, his large hands cupping your face and wiping away the excess saliva that still coated your cheeks and nose.

“Look at the mess you made, pretty girl,” Frankie mumbled, his eyes dancing over you ravenously.��

He leaned in to kiss you, drawing his tongue over your wet lips. You moaned into his open mouth, your body tensing up with anticipation as Benny coated the head of his cock with the wetness leaking from your entrance. 

“Eyes on me, baby,” Frankie ordered, pulling away from your mouth. “I wanna watch you while Benny ruins that perfect pussy.”

That was all Benny needed to hear before he broke you up, the stretch of your cunt around his cock blindingly painful for the first few seconds. Your mouth fell open as his hips pressed against your ass, every glorious inch of him stretching you wide open. A choked gasp fell from your lips as Frankie held your focus, his brown eyes watching with fervid attention. 

“Benny,” Frankie said, never breaking away from your eyes. “Fuck her hard.”

Benny replied with a forceful snap of his hips that sent your body colliding with the couch. You screamed out at the savage pace he set, each connection of his hips against yours sending you into a frenzy of whimpers and sobs.

“So fucking tight and perfect,” Benny huffed between each drive of his cock. “Can’t believe you’ve been keeping her to yourself.”

“She’s all mine, Benny,” Frankie reminded him. “But I think she enjoys being shared.”

You nodded vigorously, flames licking up your nerves as Benny steered you closer to another orgasm. Your nails dug into the cushions, half-moon indentations left in their wake. 

“I want you both,” you panted. “Like this.”

“Yeah, babygirl?” Benny exhaled, bending his body over yours to kiss up your spine.

Frankie dragged you in for a long kiss, a moan exhaling from his mouth into yours. You were drunk on their touch, each hand roaming your body, every kiss, every lust-filled word. You couldn’t get enough.

“Cum inside me, Benny,” you pleaded. 

Benny’s arm braced around your torso, pulling you up until your back was flush with his chest. Frankie climbed over the arm of the sofa, his hands sweeping back the hair from your face. Benny brought his free hand up to Frankie, tugging at his curls until he shuffled closer. Frankie tilted his chin up and met Benny’s lips, their kisses slow and impassioned. Both of their body’s pressed harder against yours, Benny’s cock sliding in and out of you slowly, his thrusts shallow and short. You licked a path up Frankie’s neck, startling a gasp from him as Benny deepened their kiss.

The muscles in Benny’s arms flexed around your chest, his hips snapping hard one last time before his release was painting your insides. You were so fucking full of them both, your body coursing with adrenaline and pleasure. Benny slipped out of you, breaking away from Frankie’s lips and falling back against the couch. 

“Come here, babygirl,” Benny urged, outstretching his arms.

You glanced at Frankie for permission—which was comical as the mixture of their cum leaked down your inner thighs. Frankie gave you a soft smile, peking your lips before guiding you down onto the couch. 

Benny wound his arms around your trembling body, pressing a light kiss on the crown of your head, while Frankie settled against your body on the other side. You nestled into the warmth of their bodies, your eyes drifting shut from exhaustion.

“This was nice,” you hummed, giggling softly. 

“You wanna do it again?” Frankie chuckled, kissing your shoulder.

“Maybe not right now,” you groaned.

The soreness between your legs throbbed violently, and every muscle in your body tense and stiffened. You stretched out between them, feeling both men’s heartbeats pounding against your body.

“I love you, baby,” Frankie muttered into your skin.

“I love you, too,” you exhaled.

Lifting your chin to look at Benny, you watched him eye Frankie knowingly. You could see the emotions swimming in his blue eyes, his lips parted and swollen.

“You love him, too,” you commented.

“Yeah, maybe I do,” Benny said absentmindedly.

Benny’s gaze slid down to you, and you saw it in his eyes. The passion between them, the cohesiveness of their movements with you; it was all right there. You always thought Benny loved Frankie like a brother, but maybe there was something more. You weren’t jealous; you were far from it. You wanted them both, maybe in different ways, but still… you wanted them.

“Would you do this again?” You asked, partially to both of them.

“Absolutely,” Frankie said, at the same time Benny said, “In a heartbeat.”

“Stay the night with us, Benny,” you offered. 

“Wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else,” Benny sighed.

[pimosworld]

Read it again- part I

I wanted to start a list of recs that I find myself going back to when I’m happy or sad or just in need of something to distract me from the crazy world we live in. This will be multiple parts so consider this the first installment. These will be old/new/current wips and fics.

Please head the warnings in each fic or series.

Triple Frontier

The devils backbone- @ezrasbirdie

Feed your ego- @whatthefishh

War makes thieves and peace hangs them- @brandyllyn

Messy Pile of Affection Series- @flightlessangelwings

The homecoming series- @astroboots

Awakening Series- @romanarose

Switch to channel 2- @autumnleaves1991-blog

My best friends girl- @tropes-and-tales

Moon Knight

Prized possession- @melodygatesauthor

Third ones the charm-(part I, part II) @missdictatorme

Egg Fried Rice- @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

The Jake problem- (part I, part II) @bensolosbluesaber

For science- @projectionistwrites

Joel Miller

Pink- @netherfeildren

The checklist- @thetriumphantpanda

Trick or Treat- @morallyinept

Meet me in the back- @atticrissfinch

Honey do- @kiwisbell

Take care of you- @theidiotwhowritesthings

Javier Peña

It’s never too late- @javierpena-inatacvest

Paranoid heart- @goodwithcheese

Late night texts- @undercoverpena

D.I.Y.- @swiftispunk

Please comment and reblog the authors works that they pour their time, heart and soul into.

Feel free to leave a comment with your favorite re-read or message me directly to include in future installments.

[flightlessangelwings]

You Should See the Other Guy

Frankie Morales x gn!reader x Benny Miller (Messy Pile of Affection Universe, but can stand on its own)

Word count- 2.2k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), queer thruple, protective!Frankie, Benny fighting in the ring, established relationship, oral (m receiving), threesome, riding, fluff

Notes- Getting this in just in time for the Triple Frontier Anniversary Event! Thanks for hosting this @triplefrontier-anniversary @romanarose @for-a-longlongtime! And while this fic is written purposefully with a gender neutral reader for this event, please be aware that the entireity of MPoA is a fem reader. But this fic can also be read on its own too! Enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post new things!

~

Benny felt the adrenaline rush from the cheers of the crowd. Sweat dripped from his face and his muscles strained as he gave everything he had to take down his opponent. It was always a rush for him, and he loved what he did, even if decent fights that brought in money and prestige were few and far between these days. But, there was something else that motivated Benny lately. Two somethings, actually. And he felt the two pairs of eyes trained on him even when he couldn’t see your faces.

Your hand stayed clutched in Frankie’s as the two of you watched your boyfriend in the ring. This wasn’t new for you- Benny and you had been a couple for some time before Frankie joined you. Even though you hated to see him get hurt, you knew this was what Benny wanted, and you supported him fully. As you came to watch more and more of his fights, it became a little easier for you, and you knew he could handle himself.

“Plus I always have my baby to take care of me anyway,” Benny would say when you worried for him more in the beginning.

A smile came across your face as you thought about his words. But, you felt the strain of your other boyfriend’s hand in yours, calling your attention. Taking a lull moment in the fight, you broke your gaze away from Benny to Frankie and you noticed the way his jaw was clenched tightly, every muscle in his face strained with tension. 

“Hey, Frankie,” you tugged his hand to get his attention, “You alright?”

“Fine,” he replied in a reflex as he glanced over at you. Frankie softened his expression when he saw the worry in your eyes, “Fine,” he repeated in a lighter tone, “It’s just… It’s different now. You know?”

“I do,” you gave him a soft smile, “I know,” your tone was hushed as you rested your head on his shoulder, “He’ll be alright, Frankie,” you reassured him. 

The tension in Frankie’s muscles melted slightly under your touch, and you felt him relax a little. In front of the two of you, the fight went on and the crowd roared around you as Benny knocked out his opponent. Both you and Frankie leapt for joy as your boyfriend pranced around the ring in victory.

Benny’s heart jumped in his chest as he caught a glance of you and Frankie nuzzled together in the front row. He wished he had his phone so he could capture the moment forever, but it would just have to live in his memory. He winked at the two of you and blew a quick kiss before he turned to receive his prize and got swept away from the rink. 

“Shall we?” you asked Frankie as you gestured towards the locker rooms.

Frankie nodded, “I’ll go meet Ben in the locker room while you get the car.”

You kissed his cheek, “Meet you guys outside,” you mumbled in his ear with a smirk. It had become the new routine for the three of you, and Frankie settled in with you and Benny quickly and comfortably. As if he was meant to be with the two of you.

But something was off with Frankie today. You could sense it before you walked away, but you decided now was not the time to bring it up. Besides, Frankie had seemed a little tense in general lately, and you and Benny already had a plan in mind to help him with that…

“Hey Ben,” Frankie called into the locker room as he stepped in. His nose scrunched when he was hit with the overpowering smell of sweat, but he shrugged it off with a shake.

“Babe!” Benny lifted his arms up in victory, “I can’t seem to lose when you two are around! My lucky charms!” He closed the space between their bodies and pulled Frankie in for a hug, kissing his cheek when he was close.

“Yeah,” Frankie mumbled as he held his boyfriend close, feeling the sweat from his chest and the blood dripping from his nose, “Ben…” he scowled when he broke away enough to get a better look at his face, “You’re gonna break your fucking nose one of these days.”

“Hey, Frankie, relax,” Benny shrugged off Frankie’s concern, “You should see the other guy,” he chuckled.

Frankie’s face remained in a deep frown. He had seen the other guy, and even though Benny was the winner, his face didn’t look like it.

“What?” Benny let out a nervous laugh when he noticed Frankie’s face didn’t change, “You worried I’ll get too ugly for the two of you and you’ll leave me?”

“That’s not it and you fucking know it,” Frankie snapped back. 

The worry in his face made Benny pause for a moment as he realized just how much Frankie worried for him now that they were together. You had worried a lot when you first started coming to watch his fights too, but as time went on, you either had more confidence in him or you got better at hiding how scared you were. Benny wasn’t sure which it was.

Seeing the drop in Benny’s face, Frankie let out a sigh, “Nevermind,” he waved it off, deciding not to push the subject any further, “Let’s go and celebrate your victory, baby.”

Benny’s face lit up, “Hell yeah! That’s my babe!”

* 

“Frankie!” Benny’s voice called from the bedroom.

“Could you come here?” your voice added.

Puzzled, Frankie quickly made his way into the bedroom where he was frozen in his tracks by the sight that greeted him. You and Benny knelt together on the bed… with nothing on your bodies. Frankie’s blood rushed through his veins as his skin warmed and his cock instantly hardened.

“What….?”

“You’ve been a little tense lately, Frankie baby,” you purred as you rose from the bed and reached for his shoulders, “And we thought… You could use a little something,” you smirked as you massaged his shoulders for a moment before you tugged at his shirt. 

“Baby…”

Benny followed suit and took his place on the other side of Frankie, “Here,” he joined you in removing his clothes, “Let us take care of you this time, babe,” he whispered as he placed a feather light kiss right under Frankie’s ear. 

Frankie breathed both your names as he found himself stripped nude and led to the bed. His mind swam as his perspective flipped from his two partners laying him on his back on the large plush bed.

“You spend so much time worrying about everyone else, Frankie,” you spoke softly.

“That you need yourself taken care of,” Benny finished the thought.

“Fuck…” Frankie whispered as he watched you and Benny position yourself on either side of him. You moved down between his legs, parting them to make yourself comfortable. Benny trailed a hand along his skin as he moved towards his head, cupping his face with his rough, calloused hands.

You let out a whimper as you settled yourself right above Frankie’s cock, rocking your hips up and down along his length. Frankie gasped at the contact, and his cock twitched underneath your body. Benny’s eyes caught the movement and he stayed transfixed on your body as your hips glided along your boyfriend’s fully hard cock.

“Shit babes,” Benny murmured, “That’s so fucking hot!”

A giggle escaped your lips as you leaned forward and took Benny’s lips with your own. His hand lazily stroked his cock with one hand while the other still caressed Frankie’s face. Hearing the muffled moans of your kiss, Frankie opened his eyes and watched as you and Benny tangled your tongues above him.

He groaned at the sight before his gaze fell to Benny’s cock just inches from his face. Involuntarily, Franie licked his lips and darted his tongue out to touch the tip, which made Benny whimper into your mouth. The two of you broke away so Benny could look down at the way Frankie’s tongue swirled around the head of his cock.

“Fuck…” he groaned before Frankie took him completely into his mouth.

Benny let out a loud moan as his boyfriend’s warm, wet mouth engulfed him. You watched in awe as the two boys settled comfortably and connected together. For a moment, you were still as you watched Benny’s cock appear and disappear in Frankie’s mouth. But, you had a part to play in this too.

Carefully, you hovered your hips over Frankie’s cock and slowly, you lowered yourself onto him, his thick length penetrating you from below. The sharp gasp you let out echoed in the room as you felt the familiar stretch as you lowered yourself inch by slow inch.

If it weren’t for Benny’s cock in his mouth, Frankie’s own groan would have harmonized with yours. But, it was muffled, with only short gasps and pants escaping around the thickness in his mouth. Benny let out a growl as he watched his one partner’s cock disappear into his other partner. He knew his own cock twitched in Frankie’s mouth, as his heart fluttered similarly.

When your hips met Frankie’s, you let out a deep exhale. Opening your eyes at the sound of your name, you were met with Benny’s gaze piercing into you, and it made your heart skip a beat in your chest. The two of you stayed frozen for a moment before you both started to move at the same time, in perfect rhythm with each other without any words needed.

Frankie groaned and moaned underneath you as you rode him. Benny’s hips rocking in the same rhythm as you did, and between the two of you, Frankie became overwhelmed quickly in the best way possible. 

You leaned forward a bit, driving Frankie’s length deeper into you while your hands landed on his chest. You kept the same rhythm, lifting and lowering your hips while you squeezed his chest. Frankie’s moan reverberated around Benny’s cock as he felt you knead and tug at his pecs, adding to the sensations he already felt.

A muffled moan came from underneath you, and you knew by the way Frankie tensed that he was close.

“You gonna cum for us now, Frankie baby?” you purred.

Benny’s own rhythm stuttered at your words, “Shit…” he groaned, “Say that again, baby.”

You smoked, loving the way the two strong men bowed to you at times, “You gonna cum too, Benny baby?”

“Fuck yeah,” he growled through gritted teeth as he drove his cock deeper into Frankie’s mouth.

Frankie in turn grabbed Benny’s hips and held him close, encouraging him to give him all he had. All the air left your lungs as you watched both of them fall apart before you. Benny came soon after, spilling himself into Frankie’s mouth with a loud moan and string of curses. The room spun as you watched his eyes roll back into his head while Frankie held him close.

You picked up your pace, feeling the heat build in your own body as Frankie’s cock hit that sweet spot inside you over and over again. But, you wanted to feel him fill you up first, and your jaw clenched as you saved off your own orgasm. Tonight was about Frankie after all.

It didn’t take long for you to get your wish, and through a muffled moan, you felt Frankie fall over the edge. His one hand flew to grab onto your hip as he bucked his own hips up and spilled himself deep inside you. Benny pulled out to give Frankie some air, and the scream immediately filled the room with his moans and groans.

“Fuck!” you cried out as you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore. Clenching your inner muscles around Frankie, you came hard, your entire body trembling over him as you rode out both your orgasms together while Benny watched in awe.

Unable to hold yourself up any longer, you collapsed down, slipping out of Frankie in the process. Benny also flopped down on the other side of Frankie, both your bodies framing his own on the bed. None of you moved for several moments, all of you taking the opportunity to catch your breaths.

You were the first to move, rolling onto your side to watch your boys in the low light, “You look better, Frankie,” you giggled as you watched the afterglow light up his face.

Without opening his eyes, Frankie grinned, “You should see the other guy,” he peeked one eye open to catch Benny’s own smirk before he closed them again.

Benny only laughed as he leaned forward and kissed Frankie’s temple tenderly. He then leaned more to kiss your cheek. You returned the gesture, kissing both your boys before you settled in Frankie’s one arm embrace. Benny settled on the other side. You and Benny tangled your legs together over top of Frankie as the three of you made yourselves comfortable.

“Hey babes, I…” Frankie started.

“It’s ok, Frankie,” you cut him off.

“We know,” Benny added.

Frankie’s smile only grew wider. You both knew how much Frankie cared, and how much he worried for both of you. And you both appreciated it. You all felt safe with each other. And while sometimes emotions almost became overwhelming, it was from a place of love. For as long as the three of you had each other, everything would be alright. As long as the three of you had your large king size bed to come back to.

[ghostofaboy]

Something A Little New

Pairing: Frankie Morales/Benny Miller Rating: Explicit Word count: 1754

Warnings: Bondage, masturbation, edging, orgasm control

Summary: Benny wants to try something a little new with Frankie, and Frankie is more than happy to agree.

Note: This has not been beta read so apologies for any mistakes. This was a request from @waywaychuck as part of my 100 Follower Celebration.

Eying the scene before him, Frankie couldn’t help feeling a little nervous. When Benny had called and invited him over, the younger man had claimed he had something fun and new he wanted to try. Never one to shy away from experimentation, Frankie had driven to Benny’s place expecting the less experienced man to explain he wanted to try something a little kinky, but ultimately something Frankie had done before. This was a surprise.

Guided into the bedroom by Benny, Frankie was greeted with the plush chair that usually dominated the corner of Benny’s bedroom, with very noticeable leather straps attached to it. This was new. The large black seat had been pulled out of the corner to the foot of Benny’s bed, on which were an array of toys and lube. So this was the fun new thing Benny wanted to try.

Frankie could feel Benny behind him, the younger man gently kissing the back of his neck as his large hands reached around to unfasten Frankie’s jeans. Leaning back, Frankie let Benny’s hands wander as his t-shirt was pulled up and off quickly while Benny’s lips danced across his skin. Frankie could feel his cock stirring to life as it was freed from its confines, but otherwise left untouched as Benny busied himself undressing Frankie fully.

“So you want me on the chair?” Frankie said finally as Benny’s mouth found his neck once more, the younger man’s hard length pressing into Frankie’s ass.

“Hmmm.” Benny circled Frankie’s nipples with his fingers before pulling his mouth away from nibbling at the pilot’s skin. “Yeah, I want to try somethin’. Is it ok? I mean, I wanna tie you up and play with you. Is that ok?”

“Fuck.” Frankie laughed out. “Why so shy suddenly? Of course, it’s fucking ok.”

“I just don’t want you to do anythin’ you don’t wanna.” Benny spun Frankie round to face him, searching his face for any signs of doubt. “At any point, you say the word, and I’ll let you up, ok?”

“I know.” Frankie leaned in to claim Benny’s mouth, easing his tongue in to nudge against the other man’s. Benny wrapped his arms around Frankie, grabbing his ass and pulling him closer to deepen the kiss.

Frankie’s skin tingled as Benny plundered his mouth greedily before the younger man pulled away gasping for breath.

“Fuck. Ok, I gotta get you on that chair before this goes too far.” Benny smirked, maneuvering Frankie around and shoving him down onto the chair. “I got plans, and they don’t involve you comin’ just yet.”

Frankie gave Benny his best shit eating grin as the bindings were wrapped around his wrists to strap them down to the arms of the chair. Two more larger straps were brought up under Frankie’s thighs to pull them up and apart, also securing them to the armrests. Benny’s strong hands grabbed Frankie’s ass to position it at the edge of the seat, leaving the pilot spread open for his lover with his asshole, balls and cock in full view. 

Once he was satisfied, Benny sat back on his heels and raked his eyes over Frankie’s naked body. The obvious bulge in his jeans was freed for Frankie to appreciate as Benny quickly and efficiently pulled his clothes off before leaning over to the toys and lube on the foot of the bed.

Picking up a cock ring, Benny ran a hand tenderly over Frankie’s thigh before fixing the ring at the base of Frankie’s straining length. Flicking his eyes up to check on his lover, Benny then pumped some lube into his hand and began to slowly stroke Frankie’s erection. Frankie couldn’t stop himself, letting out a quiet moan as Benny’s sensual strokes sent spikes of lightning through his body.

“That good?” Benny chuckled as Frankie let his head drop back to give a throaty growl, reaching out with his free hand to roll Frankie’s balls. “Yeah? Yeah, it looks like it. You look so fuckin’ good right now. Love you spread out for me. So fuckin’ sexy.”

“You gonna fuck me like this?” Frankie panted out as Benny continued to play with his cock and balls. 

“Yeah.” Benny started to pump Frankie’s cock faster. “Later. Want to do this first. Let me know when you’re gettin’ close.”

Frankie nodded, pinching his eyes shut and surrendering to his lover’s touch. The hot tension inside him was building quickly despite the cock ring, and Frankie opened one eye to watch beads of precum rolling down his shaft to mix with the lube.

“Fuck.” Frankie gasped, closing both eyes again. “I’m gonna, I’m…”

Benny’s hand vanished, and Frankie’s eyes shot opened at the sudden lack of friction and warmth. Met with the grinning face of his younger lover as his orgasm ebbed away, Frankie gave another growl. 

“This is what you wanted to do?” He shifted his ass to make his cock sway back and forth, watching as Benny unconsciously licked his lips. “Fuckin’ edge me?”

“Tie you up and edge you.” Benny corrected with a smirk as he slowly, tenderly, began to pump Frankie once more. “You know the drill. Tell me when you’re gettin’ close.”

“What if I don’t?” Frankie pouted, a small part of him mad at the ruined climax, even as the rest of him vibrated with excitement for Benny’s plan.

“Well, then you’ll come.” Benny sighed, running his thumb thoughtfully over the leaking tip of Frankie’s cock. “But then I’ll have to untie you as punishment and you’ll miss out on the rest of the fun. I guess we could watch a movie or-”

“Hijo de puta.” Frankie grumbled, thrusting up as best he could into Benny’s fist. “Fine.”

Benny just laughed and continued his ministrations. He knew exactly how to touch Frankie, exactly how to get the result he wanted, and exactly when to stop without Frankie needing to say a word. Twice more, Benny pumped and tugged Frankie to the edge, before he would stop and wait patiently, then begin the cycle again. Frankie was almost convinced that this went on for well over an hour, although glancing at the clock on Benny’s wall revealed that only half as much time had passed. 

Frankie was desperate to come, his head foggy with the heightened arousal, while his body fizzed with the now ever present fire coursing through him. He had now taken to pleading with Benny as his cock throbbed in time with his heartbeat. Straining at the restraints, even Frankie was shocked at the filth and promises pouring from his own mouth.

“Please fuck me.” He began to beg again, pushing his ass towards Benny. “Fuckin’ use my ass. Do what you want with it. You wanna it rough? I can take it. Fuckin’ ruin my pussy. Please, fuck Benny, I need to… por favor… fuckin’ use me.”

“Don’t worry, I will.” Benny took his hands from Frankie’s dick once more, chuckling softly as Frankie threw his head back with a long whine. “This isn’t meant to be torture, baby. I promise, the pay-off is gonna be so fuckin’ good.”

“You’re tryin’ to kill me.” Frankie scowled, bucking his hip to fuck the air, now desperate to alleviate his burning hot erection. 

“Ok, ok.” Benny reached out, carefully taking the cock ring off Frankie. “I’ll let you come now. Never let it be said that I am not a merciful fucker.”

Benny's thick fingers wrapped around Frankie's tender shaft, while his other hand gently cupped his balls. Then, slowly, Benny began to move. As always he started almost lazily, stroking down Frankie's cock before returning to the tip where Benny would add a slight twist across the sensitive head before repeating the process. The whole time, Frankie's balls were in his other hand, being softly fondled and palmed to double the sensory onslaught. 

Usually it would take a little while for Benny to pick up the pace, but Frankie was thankful that after only a few sensual strokes, Benny shifted to quicker pumping. All Frankie's muscles and nerves simultaneously screamed and sang as the building pleasure inside him once more took over. 

The room began to get fuzzier as Frankie's vision blurred. Moans, gasps and growls fell freely from his lips alongside incomplete sentences in English and Spanish. Pulling the restraints taut, Frankie arched his back while Benny frenetically pumped his length. 

Then with a tremble and a loud groan, Frankie came. Tumbling over the edge of his climax, Frankie could feel himself shaking as the intense orgasm hit. Pinching his eyes shut, Frankie was aware of too much and not enough all at once. As he emptied himself over Benny's hand, Frankie could only see stars and feel the shockwaves flowing through his body.

Slumping back into the chair, all Frankie could do was ride the high, as tiny aftershocks made his thighs shake, until finally the ebbed away. Panting, Frankie slowly opened his eyes, shocked at the intensity knowing that usually, it took prostate stimulation for him to come that hard. After a few seconds, the world came back into focus and Frankie was met with the sight of Benny casually licking come off his fingers with a massive grin on his face. 

“Welcome back.” Benny started to unfasten the straps holding Frankie down, checking his wrists and thighs after removing each one. “You good? What color we at?”

“Fucking best green ever.” Frankie grinned, unable to move as his lover pulled him up into a more upright position. “Fuck, that was intense.”

“Yeah.” Benny laughed, giving Frankie a peck on the lips. “Now… you wanna nap or are good to keep going. This dick isn’t gonna suck itself.”

Frankie’s eyes drifted down to Benny’s leaking cock, and immediately another surge of arousal hit him. Licking his lips, Frankie looked back up into the big blue eyes of his boyfriend and grinned. 

“Let me have some water, then you can tie me back up.” Frankie chuckled as Benny practically tripped over his feet as he scrambled out of the bedroom towards the kitchen. As the other man reappeared, bottle of water in hand, Frankie reached out to take it. Taking a big mouthful, Frankie was suddenly struck with an idea.

“Hey, you think if you put me back how I was, you’d be able to fuck my mouth?” Frankie asked casually, taking another long drink from the bottle. Benny’s eyebrows shot up as the smile on his face grew.

“Only one way to find out.”

[sketchy-rosewitch]

A Million Paper Hearts: Benny Miller x Frankie Morales

A/N: I have not written in FOREVER we are back. Had to write these two I love these too so much fuck.

Warnings: Tom (i fucking hate this bitch, if this dude has no more haters I’m dead), drug addiction mention and allusion. Blood.

The sun shines bright as Benny cruises down the street in his new car. It was the weekend and the guys wanted to get together at Will’s house since Santiago was back in town. Benny just needed to pick up Frankie.

Usually Frankie was the designated driver, but Benny wanted to show off his new ride to him so he insisted.

The sports car’s loud rumbling comes to a stop as the dirty blond man parks in his friend’s driveway.

Frankie is already outside. His arms crossed, he’s smirking. Already taking a look a Benny’s newest purchase he steps forward a little with a lean. God Benny was a sucker for Frankie’s smirk. Benny gets out

“You like her?” The taller man asks, patting the hood of the car as he leans against it.

Frankie’s arms uncross and he walks around the car.

“Yeah, you weren’t kidding about getting a Ferrari now were you?” Frankie laughs and Benny’s heart jumps slightly.

He keeps his cool. “Not at all.” A small chuckle comes from Benny’s throat. Frankie opens the sports car’s door and slides in and Benny follows after.

“How’s the shop doing?” Benny glances over at Frankie for a second before turning his eyes back on the road.

“It’s been doing good. Can finally keep it open on the weekends. Just hired a manager so I have a day off now.” The brunet explains. Benny nods indicating he was listening to the other man.

Not that Benny ever wasn’t when he is around him.

“Surprised business hasn’t gone under.” Frankie comments deprecatingly. He lets out a snort and Benny frowns.

“You’re doing really good Fish, come on now. I mean we got all of that money and you decided to open up a business. That’s better than what most winners do with their lottery money.” Benny explains reaching over and smacking his friend’s chest is a reassuring way. He notices a smile creeping up on Frankie’s face. His crows feet becoming more prominent by the second.

-

Benny parks behind Will’s truck and gets out, heading towards his front door. He pulls out the spare key Will gave him and unlocks it heading inside. Fransico follows behind him.

Happy squeals are heard from the top of the stairs and Benny looks up, a huge smile coming across his face. As his niece and nephew barrel towards him.

“Uncle Benny!” Rose yells. Tyler, can’t quite speak yet but he still makes enough noise for it to bring a large grin to Benny’s face. They hug him tightly.

“How’re you?” Benny asks, giving both of them kisses on the cheeks.

“Good! Mama’s taking us to Gigi’s house tonight!” Rose explains, Benny nods and rubs her head.

“Awh, gonna miss my two favorites tonight.” Benny pouts.

“It’s okay! Im gonna miss you too!”

Benny lets out a laugh and stands up with both of the kids in his arms. “Hi Frankie!” Rose waves.

“Haven’t seen you in awhile chica. Gotten so big.” Frankie smiles making Rose giggle. Benny heads for the kitchen, Frankie following behind him. Will and his wife, Maya are there, packing up the bag for their overnight stay.

“Going to mom’s?” Benny asks. Maya looks up in shock then smiles.

“Aye güero! You scared me. Yes we are. We have stuff to plan for miss Rosie’s birthday.” The dark haired woman makes her way around the counter and kisses Benny’s cheek, then Frankie’s.

“What! Rosie you had a birthday last year! Can’t have another one!” Benny jokes, smiling at the little girl.

“Yeah I can! I gotta turn five!” She giggles, holding her hand to her Uncle’s face.

“Five?!” You’re gonna be as old as me soon!” The blond man tickles by blowing raspberries on her cheek making Rose giggle.

“We better get going now before we’re late for dinner. Say bye to Uncle Benny and Frankie!” Maya takes her son from Benny. The one year old waving shyly at both of them. Rose gives Benny a fat kiss before he sets the girl down. She follows her mom into the garage.

“I’m gonna help her. Beers are in the fridge.” Will says, following after his daughter.

Benny makes his way towards the fridge and grabs a beer for him and Frankie.

“She’s very smart for her age.” Frankie comments, opening his drink. Benny nods in agreement.

“She’s got smart as hell parents to help with it. Tony is gonna end up the same, I know it. He’s just shy. Mom says he gets it from Will.” Benny scrunches his nose. “Ironic part is Will does all that public speaking. I can’t do that for shit. But put me in front of a bunch of hillbillies and I sure as hell will knock some teeth out of some people.”

Fransico takes a sip of his beer and leans against the counter. “How long are you gonna keep doing the MMA stuff you think?” He asks, genuinely curious.

Benny doesn’t actually know the answer. He’s always done stuff on a whim. Moves on from things randomly. The MMA was no different from him being honorably discharged.

“Til I get bored or find something better to do.” He shrugs.

-

It isn’t long until Santiago comes and then Tom. The man was hesitant to even come in the first place, which made Benny roll his eyes. Ever since they had taken the money and made it back to the States Tom hadn’t wanted to really do anything with the guys unless it was about him. Cause god was he just so brave during that trip. As if all the shit that they got into wasn’t caused by him. Including almost getting shot in the head.

Everyone sat on the back porch. The evening air making everything calm as everyone caught up with each other between beer sips and dinner which was happily provided by Santiago.

Only problem is that Benny isn’t as calm and relaxed as he was putting out there. He kept pretending to loosen back up but in reality the bottle in his mind kept filling of thoughts of anger.

It was Tom’s fault. The moment he walked through Will’s door he kept making small jabs and comments. It was mostly Frankie and Benny he kept throwing the comments at and it pissed Benny off more than anything.

Benny could tell Frankie wasn’t enjoying them either, but he’d laugh it off and the conversation would go on.

Out of the corner of his eye, Benny could see Fish’s leg bouncing next to him, the beer in his hand was swishing lightly too.

Benny chewed the inside of his lip then took a sip of his beer, turning back into the conversation.

“So how’s that shop doing, Fish?” Tom asks, his head tilts slightly and even that movement had Benny getting more fired up. Every movement he made just felt condescending. God he wanted to beat the shit out of this man. He could and would too if Will allowed it, or even Frankie or Santiago. Sucks being the youngest and always looking for approval from people older than you.

Frankie’s leg stops bouncing when he answers Tom.

“It’s doing good. A lot better than I thought it would.” He laughs and Benny knows it’s at himself and he hates it. The way he wants to tell him again and again how good he’s doing and how good he’s been doing for the past year with getting his life back on track.

“Surprised you even bought a shop with that money. Thought you would’ve just gotten a lifetime supply of coke or I guess for you it’d be more or less 20 years.” Tom snickers and Ben’s lip twitches.

“You’re a real fucking piece of shit Tom.”

The words slip out before Benny can even think.

“I’m sorry?” Tom raises a brow.

“I said-“ Benny gets up, the outdoor chair drags against the deck. “You’re a real-“

Frankie’s eyes go big and he stands quickly trying to grab Benny.

“Fucking, PIECE. OF. SHIT!” Benny slips from Frankie’s strong hold and lunges across the glass table, knocking down Tom’s chair. His hands move fast and he starts beating down on Tom. His fists going down one after the other, over and over again.

Ben doesn’t know how long he was on Tom, only now he was being pulled off by both Frankie and Will, really the only two who could ever hold him back. Santiago drags a bloody Tom out of his chair, they stand and make their way off the porch. Tom bitching and yelling loudly.

“Take him inside Frankie. I’ll go talk to Tom.” Will furrows his brows glancing between his younger brother and his bloody friend.

Frankie sighs and yanks Benny like a toddler into the house. Benny’s breathing is still heavy and his adrenaline is high. He hasn’t once felt this way, not even during his fights.

“What the hell were you thinking Benjamin?”

“I-“

“Trick question. You weren’t.” Frankie interrupts the younger man. He goes under the kitchen counter to grab the first aid kit Maya had put there originally for the kids.

Ben looks at his knuckles, not even realizing they were bloody with not only Tom’s blood, but his too.

“You cannot do this to yourself. Come on now.” Frankie sighs, rubbing the alcohol wipe on Benny’s knuckles. It stings the burns making the taller man hiss.

“Do what?” He asks, acting oblivious to what Frankie meant.

“Beat up people because they make a stupid comment.”

“He didn’t just make a stupid comment. He made multiple and most of them were towards you. Shit pissed me off.” The blond huffs making Frankie shake his head.

“You don’t need to defend me.”

“It was bothering you.”

“No it wasn’t”

“It was, I saw how anxious you were.”

“Who cares?”

“I do!”

The older man looks away from the younger one. He shuts the first aid kit and puts it back where it was.

The kitchen is quiet and it’s Benny’s turn to grab and pull on someone. So in a swift motion he does, making Frankie look up at him. Brown eyes meet blue ones as the two men stare at each other.

“I’d do anything to defend you. I love you. I’ve loved you since I don’t even know when!” A slight frown comes across Ben’s lip and he furrows his brows. Frankie stays quiet for a moment.

“I love you too. I don’t want to see you get hurt Benjamin.”

Benny lets put a chuckle but shuts his mouth when he notices Frankie’s glare. “Fish, I wasn’t gonna get hurt.”

“You could’ve he was caught off guard. I promise, it doesn’t just go for him either. You don’t need to defend me. Not like this.” Fransisco looks down and rubs across Ben’s knuckles lightly. He then lifts both of his hands and kisses them.

Benny blushes and squeezes Frankie’s hands in his.

The brunet looks up and leans in and Benny does the same.

The kiss makes Benny feel as though his chest will burst open into a million paper hearts. When they let go Benny goes in for another one, this time grabbing Frankie’s face, touching his patchy beard and rubbing it with his thumb.

The back door begins sliding open and Frankie pulls back from the taller man. They both turn around and Will steps inside.

“Uh, told Tom to just go home. Maybe stop by the ER first though. Do you guys want another beer? Pope is relaxing again.” Will explains, he didn’t seem to notice the two kissing which made Benny relieved. The two look at each other reading each other fully then look back at Will.

“Yeah we’ll have another beer.” Benny answers. Will nods then sighs. Making his way across the dining room and to the garage. He stops for a second.

“Benny, control yourself a bit more please. You’re lucky Maya wasn’t home.” Will groans, Benny lets out a laugh.

“Tom’s lucky Maya wasn’t home. Her words hurt more than my fists ever will.”

Frankie snorts and Will rolls his eyes and disappears into the garage.

“Do you think he noticed?” Frankie asks.

Benny looks at where Will was and back at Frankie and scrunches his face.

“Nah, if he did though he probably just wants to save that conversation for another day and honestly. I do too.”

Benny kisses Frankie’s cheek and heads towards the back door. “Come on now. Can finally relax for the night.” Benny gestures and the two make their way outside.

[pimosworld]

Will is trying so hard not to lose it as Frankie has a full Catfish meltdown about his beloved Benny.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Sooooo…….how do you think Benny boi would handle being caught half-naked from out the shower by his darling?? He’s showering after winning his match-up she thought he was finished but to her surprise…….. this scenario has been stuck in my brain 💀💀

Adrenaline.

oh baby... thank you for this.

warnings - smut. cursing.

Masterlist. Inbox.

"Ben? You in here?"

You walk through the locker room, looking for your partner as you go. Eventually, when you reach the showers, you hear the water running.

"Babe?" Benny yells from behind the curtain. "That you?"

You pull it back and pop your head around, trying to keep your eyes on his.

"It's me. I'll just wait for you on the bench out here."

Before you can blink, a strong hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you into the shower, water drenching you immediately. You shriek, swatting at his chest to try and escape.

His palms find your hips, plastering your bodies together.

"Need you," he murmurs into your ear, brushing your hair away from your face. "Can't wait until we get home."

"I'm soaked," you whine.

"You will be."

"Asshole," you laugh, resting your forehead on his sternum. "I like this dress. Dry."

"Stop worrying," he soothes, rucking the material up and over your head, throwing it onto the tiled floor. "Let me take your mind off it, hmm?"

He pulls your underwear down your legs, chuckling when you step out of them willingly.

Benny places your hands on the wall, kicking your feet apart. Pressing kisses down your spine, he sighs softly, grabbing handfuls of your ass as he goes.

"Fuck, this is what I needed. You, all pretty and pliant for me. So good, baby. Such a good girl."

Benny lines himself up and slides home in one smooth movement, both of you gasping in unison.

"That's it," he coos. "Take it, baby. Like you know you can. Like you were made for it."

You drop your head onto your arm and let him mould you however he likes, clearly needing the outlet. He gets like this, after his fights. He vibrates with the energy of it, looking for a release in any way he can get it.

You've become his favourite solution.

"Ben," you whine. "Fuck, babe."

"Yeah, honey. Keep saying my name just like that, please."

Benny's rhythm is frantic, frazzled, rushed, but he still manages to hit exactly the right spots. He knows your body like the back of his hand, that much is clear.

"Close," you choke out, trying not to swallow the water that still beats down. "Benny."

"Come for me, pretty girl. Give me all you've got. Please. I want it baby, that's it."

His honeyed words send you over the edge, muscles tensing and eyes rolling back. Benny joins you, groaning lowly against the wet skin of your back.

You both try to catch your breath for a moment, Ben reaching over to turn off the water. You spin and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips.

"Better?"

"So much better," he chuckles.

You're about to respond when you hear the locker room door open, the sounds of multiple heavy footsteps filling the room.

"Benny! Champion! Where you at?"

You look at him with wide eyes, both of you realising the hilarity of the situation. Benny reaches out of the curtain to grab his dry shirt from the bench, tossing it to you and wrapping a towel around his waist. You throw it on and follow him out towards the boys sheepishly, knowing you're not about to get away with what you've just done.

"There you are!"

The boys look between you and Benny, putting the pieces together.

"You two are ridiculous," Frankie laughs.

Santiago winks at you as you bury your head in Benny's shoulder, laughter bouncing off the lockers around the room.

[pedge-page]

Happy Hour

Part 1 to the Sharing is Caring series

Frankie Morales x F!reader free-use with the triple frontier boys

Summary: Frankie loves using and abusing his free-use pass with you. He’s got no problem introducing it to the rest of the guys.

Warnings: Exhibitionism, Voyuerism, Cucking, free use, unprotected sex, male masturbation, oral m-receiving, assisted masturbation, using beer bottles as dildos, indirect pussy eating (?), slight breeding kink, language

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Frankie invited the boys over for the summer kickoff Barbecue in your backyard. You spent all day preparing snacks and side dishes, setting up yard games and helping clean the pool, all the while getting praises by Frankie who found every opportunity to wrap you up in his arms and kiss you all over. 

"You get enough beer for tonight?" He asks, nuzzling his nose against your neck, pressing kisses over your shoulder. 

"Yup. I almost cleared out the shelf. You boys gonna have a good time, I’ll take care of everything else.” You lay your hand over top his which were caressing your lower tummy affectionately. 

With how busy things had been getting recently, you wanted Frankie to get together with his friends again. He had thrown you such a wonderful girls night-in when you had your girl friends over last month, so making sure he and his buds were well taken care of tonight was your top priority. 

“I think you'll have some fun too." 

Frankie continues to nip at your exposed skin, his hand drafting up to the exposure of your off-shoulder frilly blouse, tugging it down with one finger. "Frankie, stop, I'm still cooking."

He ignores you, slipping his hand inside the elastic band and palming your breast, his hips pinning yours to the counter as he rubbed his hard-on against your ass. "Gonna do everything I ask of you tonight, aren't you?" His breathes huskily into your ear. 

You remained tight lipped, unsure of what he had planned tonight, but having some ideas as to the sexual acts he'll want to get away with. You felt heat pool in your lower stomach at the idea of fucking in the powder room while the boys were outside, or having him finger you under the table while they ate. He's been pushing his free-use license further and further, making you simultaneously nervous and excited at how far he intends to use you for his pleasure.

"They'll...be here... any minute..." you whine, your body caving in to his touches as you breathe heavier. You feel his fat fingers dip below your naval, through the lining of your skirt and down your panties, fingering your clit softly to work your arousal.

"Nothing they haven't seen before, baby mamma," he groans. He removed his hand from between your thighs, bringing its stickiness up to dance on your lips. Your mouth happily parts at the intrusion and suck your arousal from his digits. He lifts your skirt above your hips, splaying your panty-clad ass on display, his lips never leaving your neck or cheek.

"Not a baby mamma yet, that's your job to make happen remember?" You smile, turning your head to lock your lips together. You feel a tap on your thigh and lift your leg to aid in his removal of your panties. He stuffs them into the back pocket of his jeans.

"I'm keeping these, need you nice and wet for us tonight."

The doorbell rings, and Frankie backs away from you abruptly, leaving you wide eyed, back now cold. The faint breeze from the open window whistling under your skirt and between your damp, exposed pussy. "Us?"

- - - - 

Frankie greets each of the guys with a long awaited hug as they enter your home together. You tried to act like you're not dripping between your thighs as you kiss and cautiously hug each of them. It was Benny who scooped you up in his arms and twirled you around, your skirt lifting enough to show the lower half of your bare ass. 

Santi bit his lip at the sight. “Keeping Fish good company I hope?” He asks as Benny set you down with a fat kiss to your cheek. 

You hastily bring your skirt lower, tugging it down. “It’s been pretty smooth sailing since the wedding, hasn’t it?” 

Frankie's hand skims the back of your rear, hand lifting your skirt back up over the side of your thigh, pulling you in to him like a little prize, fully well knowing everyone got a good look at you. “It’s been more than great,” he says. You could help but blush at the way he beamed at you with adoration. "Beer anyone?"

They pile into the backyard, sorting through the cooler of assorted bottles and cans while you sift through the kitchen drawers for an opener. You could overhear indistinguishable chatter from the group, their occasional glances back towards you in the house. 

"Found it!" You call out, skipping out to the yard. "Let me," you offer, grabbing each beer from their hand and popping off the lid. 

"Sweet of you, baby, thank you." Frankie kisses the side of your head. Then his voice changes an octave lower, whispering lowly into your ear: "Go sit on the chair right there and put your heels on the seat."

You shiver, pulling away to stare back at him incredulously. His face told you he wasn't playing, that this was the first of many things he'd be asking of you tonight. You gulp and did as he said, settling uncomfortably in the plastic lawn chair and bringing your knees up to your chest, desperate to keep your ankles together and closed so everyone couldn't see right your bare pussy behind your ankles.

Frankie leans next to you, bottle in hand. "Don't be shy. Spread 'em."

Your face felt hot red as Benny, Will, Santi and Frankie eyes bore down on your anxious figure. You muster up your courage and boldly spread your legs wide, skirt falling from your thighs entirely to your hip, glittering cunt now open wide for the entire backyard. 

Benny whistles lowly. "Never gonna get tired of that pretty view. Damn. Lucky bastard.”

Frankie grimaces proudly, his hand cupping your jaw affectionately like a pet. "Keep 'em spread for us, okay babygirl?"

You nod, clit twitching at his praise, not even noticing when he hitches the rim of his bottle at your entrance. Your brows furrow, never breaking eye contact with his beautiful brown eyes as he pushed the bottles neck into your pussy, your arousal making it easy for the object to slide right through.

"Holy fuck," Will coughs, watching the way you cunt greedily swallows the tip with ease. 

Frankie thrusts it in a bit, making you stutter your breaths with the increased fullness pressing inside, hands fisting the chair's armrests. He was coating the bottle and its contents inside with your juices, fucking you like it was a toy. He notices the resistance when your walls squeezed around its neck, smirking to himself, knowing you were comfortable and enjoying this with him.

Too soon, he slips it out of you, your hips slightly canter forward to chase the object that was just buried inside you. You felt empty, needy, denied. 

Frankie smirks at your helpless state ad he brought the beer to his lips and titled back, chugging the new flavor of alcohol. "Tastes better like that," he says, licking his lips clean of your taste. 

----

Frankie watches as you eagerly spread your legs further, leaning back in your chair with confidence so that your cunt hangs out in the open off the edge as each of the guys line up to coat their drinks in your pussy. The way your breath quickens, with each intrusion, how you lick your lips and look down at the sight of it disappearing into you, the mix of gentleness and roughness that came with each boy’s individuality—it drove him crazy how much you let him do this. 

Santi rubs your cheek soothingly, very passionately fucking his bottle into you while never breaking your eye contact. You giggle along with him, rocking your hips with his steady thrusts until he pulls out and takes a long sip. 

Will is far more gentle, rubbing the inside of your thigh with the pad of his thumb. He nudges your pearly clit with the rip, only swirling the top at the most shallow base of your walls. He likes the way you whine, wanting more, but his hand on your thigh is quick to keep you in your place. He slips the edge of the bottle along your folds to gather your dripping juices before retreat, giving you a little wink.

Benny dropsy to his knees, excited to have you so open for him.

“Be nice, Ben. That’s my wife you got there,” Frankie warns.

Benny rolls his eyes, pouting as his visible excitement tones down. You cup his face, knowing Frankie’s threat is a load of BS. “Don’t worry, Benny, you have your taste the way you like it.” You spread your legs even further, ankles now dangling over the arm rest, the cool breeze of the backyard swooshing through your folds. 

Benny pushes his beer in as far as he can, making you gasp. You grab his shoulder to steady yourself as you rock your hips back and forth, letting his hands remain where it is while you fucked your exposed pussy on the neck of the bottle. He rams further inside, the body of the bottle beginning to stretch your cunt.

Benny’s eyes were wide, unsure if he wanted to watch your facial expressions or the scene between your legs. After a few more playful dips, he pulls out, immediately mouthing around the bottle and suckling every drop of your juices around the neck, with little interest of the actual liquid in the bottle. 

The boys spend the evening standing around the grill, all taking turns to use you like a glorified bottle opener. Frankie keeps your panties tucked in the back of his pockets the entire time. He occasionally checks in on your reactions, making sure you’re still laughing and accepting their actions.

They came back after each sip, some taking extra care to fuck you with the bottle, hoping to get you to cum, other times just to get a fresh coating. Frankie watches your expressions each time, the way your jaw hangs open slightly, biting your tongue, quiet moans making their way to his ears. And each time, he forces the boys to stop, leaving your clenching around nothing, frustrated but wet beyond belief. He wanted you dripping, needy all night so they could get the most out of your gushing cunt. 

At one point, you had to get up to serve their food, making them all sit around the rounded patio table and dishing their plates one at a time. Frankie helps place the portions on each plate as you take it to the table before sitting down himself. His hand runs up along your smooth thigh, skirt lifting with his wrist as he inches high and higher, before squeezing your ass possessively, looking up at you. You pinch his nose and move around the table, making sure all the guys have filled drinks.

You didn’t have your own “seat” at the table, instead going around to each of the guy’s laps and eating bits off their plate. While they ate with one hand, the other held a bottle, thrusting in and out of your spread thighs over their leg. 

You currently had your arm draped over Will’s shoulder, spread open  next to the table as he bounced you in his lap, his bottle nudging the sweet spot inside you. He split his attention evenly between Frankie and you. 

The copious amount of alcohol in everyone’s system, including Frankie’s, made the rules of your use a little more lax. That—and they were all so pussy drunk off your juices mingling on their tongues, they couldn’t keep their hands off you.

You kissed along Will’s cheek, nipping his jawline and tracing patterns on his throat with your tongue as he fucked you on his beer. His languid thrusts making you feel hazy. The man had an exceptional talent at knowing the exact pace and pristine jolts to hold you on edge forever. He gave you soft smiles with sincere eye contact that made you flutter. “You’re so pretty like this,” he whispers in your ear. 

Santi was a little cheekier, eagerly pulling you down on his lap. He taps the inside of your thigh, urging you to spread fast so he could get his drink between your legs. “This cunt is still so tight, hermosa. Frankie Papi not taking care of you enough?” he asks brow raising with a challenge towards Fish. Before you can deny him, he blows hot breath against your ear before biting the lobe, making you squeal quietly as he quickly thrusts his 11th bottle of the night into your waiting heat. He continues to dot his lips against your skin, nipping your collar bone. You can see Frankie’s eyes narrow on you two but he doesn’t say anything, letting his conversation with Will continue. His aligns his head perfectly over your top, peering down at your tits. He groans softly at the little jiggles of your supply mounds with each little thrust in to you.

You look over to Benny, who’s got no care to Will and Frankie’s convo and is instead anxiously bouncing his leg, dying to get you on him for his turn.

“Oop, I gotta take care of the baby boy,” you say quietly into Santi’s ear. He pouts briefly, rubs your clit with his thumb under the table so no one else can see. You bite your lips, wide eyed but aroused. He eventually lets you up.

Benny grabs your waist with strong hands and lifts you on to his muscular thigh. 

“Eager?” You tease. You rub your hand over his strong abs and chest, grabbing his beef for him and putting right along your folds, waiting patiently for him to take charge. He doesn’t. “Want you to do it for me,” he says, smirking. You kiss his cheek and notch the beer into your cunt, moaning wantonly right in his ear. He shivers with arousal, bouncing the knee you’re perched on, the bottle neck slipping deeper inside you. His hand gropes your ass cheek, keeping you upright on him while his other arm feeds himself potato salad. he makes a poor attempt to shovel it in his mouth, dropping bits of it along your chest and down your tits.

“Making a mess on my girl, Benny,” Frankie chuckles.

Benny shrugs. Conveniently left with no more free hands, he dips his mouth down to your chest and licks a long stripe along the skin, slurping up the remnants of sticky food on you. You tilt back and laugh drunkly, fisting the bottle and shoving deep inside your cunt, panting breathlessly as your other hand messily rubs his blonde curls like a dog.

You suddenly glance back at Frankie, who is shaking his head at you in disapproval. Not from one of his buds eating food off your tit, but from your less than sneaky trial of trying to finally make yourself cum on the bottle. You pout, draw the neck out of your messy cunt, feeling your little nub twitch with remote. You’re making a big show of innocent eyes at your husband who’s been simultaneously ensuring you are both taken care of and neglected all night.

Frankie raises his hand and curls his finger at you in a come hither motion. You slide off of Benny’s lap guiltily, striding over to him in the sexiest walk you could muster. Chatter had died down as all eyes rested on you standing over Frankie.  

He stares up at you, rolling your skirt over your ass so everyone could see. He presses a soft kiss to your throbbing clit, tasting a mixture of your sweet juices and the different brands and flavors of beer that have been inside you all night. You whine, trying not to flinch too hard at how desperate you need him to make you cum.

He pats your ass assertively. “You been good tonight so far.”

The power he possesses over you was something to behold: despite standing over him, and looking down upon him, his voice and eyes carried such a dominant force against you that it was clear to everyone else how much you not only submit to him, but how much you like doing so.

“Everyone else getting taken care of real good except me. That doesn’t seem right, does it, Querida?”

You shake your head. You knew the drill, knew the devious look in his eyes. His darkened expression points down to the ground only once. 

Without missing a beat, you sink down to your knees on the grass, delicate hands immediately rubbings along his sturdy thighs in his khakis until you came upon the bulge in his pants. You rub your palm over, pressing your face to it, feeling the scratchiness of the material roll against your cheek. You give it a chaste kiss before unbuckling his belt and pulling the zipper down, freeing his erect cock. 

When you finally push his tip past your tight lips, Frankie sighs relief before starting up the group’s conversation again. The boys shifted in their seats with their evident respective bulges pressing uncomfortably between their legs. They tried to respond respectfully to Fish, occasionally darting glances at you between his legs, working his length in and out of your skilled mouth. The little sucking noises from you interrupted his speech but he made no show of acknowledging you while you sucked his fat cock deep into your throat.

You could hear little coughs and grunts from the others, none of which sounded perturbed. They were all entranced by you, your obedience, submission to Frankie. Santi “dropped” his fork below the table, hunching over to get a good look at you with his mouth agape at the sight: resting back on your haunches, your glistening pussy dripping into the grass as you bobbed your head, hands resting on his knees to keep you from taking it all and choking on it.

He licks his lips and sits up, worried he took too long. Frankie catches his eye and mouths Does she look good? 

Santi nods energetically. 

Fish smirks, taking the opportunity to push the back of your head further onto his cock, making you gag loudly in surprise. Benny and Will’s voices go quiet as Frankie starts slowly forcing his cock deeper in your mouth, making you more verbal in your choking. When he releases the pressure, you pull up so that just the tip is suctioned between your lips, moaning obscenely. Your eyes are closed in bliss, taking him back down and returning your rhythmic bobbing. 

After a few minutes, Frankie’s breaths are coming out short. He’s having a hard time paying attention to what the guys were saying. Just between the two of you, he gently caresses your jaw, letting his cock fall out of your mouth. You stare up at him, slightly teary eyed but full of lust and obsession. “My perfect little whore of a wife,” he mumbles affectionately. “Get up here and make me proud.”

You giddily climb to your feet and throw one leg over his strong thighs, sighing loudly as you straddling him. The texture of his pants feels heavenly against your neglected clit, rubbings your slick folds along his thighs with an arched back, ass peaking out for the boys to once again get a nice show.

Frankie taps your ass again, making you sit upright. He positions the swollen red tip of his member at your wet entrance. You sink down, taking his cock entirely in one motion. The hot, fat pressure of his cock stretching you fuller, deeper than any of the beer bottles could ever reach immediately has your eyes rolling, moaning out loud like a fucking whore as your body shakes, squeezing his dick tightly while your first powerful orgasm of the night washes over you. 

He holds you tight as you spasm through it. “Oh shit—she just came,” Frankie laughs.

“Oh fuck. Didn’t even have to fuck that delicious cunt.”

“That’s hot, Fish. She was so desperate for it.”

“Fuck I’m jealous. I want me a wife like that.”

You continue to gently hump him, their praises falling deaf to your ear. His large, strong body felt good to relax in, putting your weight on top of him with no care as you chase your pleasure Hips swaying of their own accord as you whimper through the aftershocks, arms thrown wrapped over his shoulders.

He strokes your back soothingly. He wants you to settle from your much needed orgasm first. Frankie sits back a little bit, letting you lean forward. The guys are practically standing over the table, desperate to see the space where their friend’s well endowed cock is joined to his wife’s tight and pretty cunt.

He has the audacity to ask the guys if they’d seen the game this past Sunday, resuming their conversation as you continue to pickup pace. You roll your hips along his length, the delicious drag of his cock sliding in and out of you leaving you dumb on him, face pressed tight against his collar while he talks casually over your shoulder. 

When Frankie starts to clench the meat of your hips and pull you down on his length a little harder, neither he nor anyone else at the table cares to talk anymore. He makes sure to fist your skirt over your waist as he drills his meaty girth up into you. They all stare, unblinking, at some point all having whipped their stiff cocks out and stroking furiously.

Frankie gets lost in your tight heat. You couldn’t care about the fact that the boys were jerking off to you and their best friend fucking—your focus was entirely on making your husband spill his sperm deep inside you. 

The squelching sound of your pussy slapping down and your breathy moans can only be heard in your private backyard among your closets guests. He can feel the dampness seeping into his pants, darkening the fabric with each splatsplatsplat of your ass slamming down on his thighs.

“Did I tell ya’ll? We’re trying to get pregnant,” Frankie boasts proudly. He doesn’t stop the way his hips canter up overly excited to share that detail, hitting that spongy spot he had been purposely avoiding all night. A surprised yell escapes your lips, tightening around him in a vice grip. Soon after, you’re both cumming together, releasing long drawn out satisfied groans into each other’s open mouths as your sweet pussy milks him, the pulses of his member filling your womb with his milky seed.

The rest of the boys cum hardly a second later, pumping their veiny cocks furiously at the sight of Frankie’s pearly spend dripping from where the two of you are still connected. Through gritted teeth, they wring out the last dribbles of their cum before everyone is sitting back, panting hard, softened and relieved dicks resting against their full bellies.  

 - - - - 

Notes: I just wanna say don’t fuck yourself with objects that aren’t specifically designed for sex, especially foods or alcohol, because you know… infections. That should be a given. 

-

Permanent Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse

Please let me know if you would like to be added (or removed) from permanent taglist--which applies to any fic that I put more than 2 ounces of thought into.

[pimosworld]

Santa’s a home wrecker

Pairing-Triple Frontier boys x f!reader

Summary- A little kiss leads to a Christmas morning misunderstanding.

CW-18+, Fluff, so much fluff, Kissing Santa, Pregnancy hormones, tf boys being great parents, polyamorous relationship, navigating a mixed family.

WK-1.6K

A/N- Set in the story of us universe but obviously in the future. We jumped way ahead here folks but I hope you love this fluffy snippet into their future lives.

Not beta read

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

It’s a little easier now since they let you sleep on the end, but it’s still a chore to roll out of bed with your heavily pregnant belly in tow. You sit on the edge for a moment trying to soothe yourself as the kicks come in quick succession. 

  You try as quietly as you can to make your way out of the bedroom, stealing a glance at Ben’s large form sprawled across Frankie in the most uncomfortable way. 

  You're wrapped up in your fluffy red robe, an early Christmas gift from the boys that you’ve been living in for the last month or so while you grow out of everything else you own. 

  The house is quiet and warm as you shuffle down the hallway and smells like cinnamon apples from the pies you made for Christmas Day. 

  A peek into the spare bedroom shows you a glimpse into most of your nights when it's Santiago’s turn to put the kids down for bed. 

  He’s snoring in the chair that sits between Camila and little Santiago’s beds. Both children slumbering away as they dream about the most exciting day of the year. 

  Some rustling is coming from the living room and you round the corner to a site that will never cease to make you smile. The boys take turns being Santa every year and they never do anything halfway. Your arms are crossed as you lean against the wall staring at the rich, dark red velvet material bent over in front of the tree. Deliberately placing gifts from the giant red bag in various spots. 

  You let out a low whistle as you make your way towards the bearded man. “Santa has a nice ass.” 

  He chuckles and stands gesturing with his arms for you to come to him. It’s a bit of a struggle now to be held but he still makes you feel all warm and fuzzy as you sway in the living room in front of the lowlights of the tree. You humm as he rubs your belly, somehow the kicking stops as if the baby taking up home inside knows whose hands are caressing you. 

  “How’s mama doing?” He asks as he kisses your neck, the fluff from his beard tickling you slightly. 

  “I’m tired…someone keeps kicking me.” You sigh into his touch as he drops to his knees, his fingers kneading that spot in your back that he knows pains you throughout the day. 

  “Hey little guy.” He speaks so softly in some adorable voice he’s made up. 

  “He’s a big guy, Will…a very big guy.” You know well enough having been told ad nauseum Miller babies are big.

  “Hey big guy…I need you to give your momma a rest so she can enjoy tomorrow okay?” He holds his ear to your belly and nods. When he looks up at you all you can make out is those piercing blue eyes nestled between the red hat and white beard. “He said okay.” 

  A small tear escapes as he kisses your belly and stands again. You can’t even blame it on the hormones. 

  “Go lay down, I’ll bring you some tea when I finish here.” One last kiss to your lips and he’s shooing you away so he can complete his Santa duties and enjoy his peanut butter cookies special request. 

  ****

  Frankie stacks the pancakes high on the plate next to the stove, as he moves on to the eggs and bacon. 

  Ben hasn’t said a word just eyeing the food as you enjoy your morning tea, surprised the kids haven’t graced you with their presence yet. 

  Santi’s creaking bones enter the kitchen before he’s seen as he cracks his back in the hallway. Frankie laughs from the stove as he flips the bacon perfectly somehow never burning it. 

  “Laugh it up hermano.” He leans down and kisses your forehead before heading over to the fresh coffee pot. 

  “I’m not the one that keeps falling asleep in the chair.” 

  You hear the sound of hurried footsteps down the hallway as Camila quickly emerges into the kitchen beaming from ear to ear. She barrels into Frankie hugging him from behind as he reaches around and ruffles her long black curls. “Buenos Días papá.” 

  “Buenos Días mi amor.” 

  Frankie kisses her forehead and she makes her way over to you and Santi to say her good mornings and receive hugs and kisses. 

  She climbs into Ben’s lap forgoing an open seat as she waits for breakfast to finish. The way the two of them could eat you were worried about welcoming another Miller into the household for lack of food resources. 

  “Good Morning daddy.” She wraps her little arms around him and it’s a feeling he’ll never get used to. 

  “Good morning honey.” She stole your nickname early on when she could look so sweet at them and instantly get her way. 

  There was a rule from the beginning that there would be no distinction unless medically necessary between the fathers. They were all fathers and that’s all that mattered. 

  “Sweetie, where's Santiago?” She looks slightly uncomfortable as she leans in and whispers something in Ben’s ear. 

  “He’s not coming?” Ben looks over to you as Santi looks to Frankie now done cooking breakfast. 

  She leans in again whispering something as Ben’s eyes widen. He has to bite his cheek to keep from laughing at the situation that he knows will need to be handled swiftly. 

  “He doesn’t want to open presents from a home wrecker.” 

  You’re grateful you hadn’t taken a sip of your tea or it would’ve been all over your new robe. 

  Frankie flicks off the stove and heads over to the table. “How do you even know that word, young lady?”  

  Ben leans in whispering something in her ear and she relaxes slightly. 

  “Well…ugh.” She’s in the hot seat by way of Santi much like her father often does to other people. You lay your hand on hers and wince slightly cursing this baby for picking the most opportune moments to make himself known. 

  “Camila it’s okay, you can tell me…you’re not in trouble.” 

  “Tia Marí said Tio John kissed a homewrecker and that’s why they’re not together anymore.” It comes out all rushed and flustered and you're trying not to giggle at her panicked confession. 

  Frankie points at Santi while he still looks on confused. “Your sister is off babysitting duty for a while.”

  Santi scrubs his hand down his face. “I'm still not following.” 

  Ben places his hands over her ears so she can’t hear. “Will was Santa last night.” He grits out as she giggles.

Santiago must have woken up and seen you kissing “Santa”.

  “Daddy I can’t hear anything.” He starts tickling her as she squeals in delight. 

  “Good because if you did, you wouldn’t get any presents.” They continue their giggles as you let out a long sigh. 

  “We’re gonna eat breakfast while you two go handle that.” Frankie starts serving up plates as Ben and Camila clap in excitement. 

  ****

  Santiago is face down in the blankets when you enter his room. He was a deep sleeper so it was pretty obvious when he was pretending. His little breaths are coming in shallow like he just ran here and plopped himself down. 

  You have a seat on the edge as Santi sits in the chair beside him. 

  Santi rubs his back hoping to calm him a little before he speaks. “Hey bud, you want to tell me what’s wrong?” 

  Inaudible mumbles come from the pillow and you bite down on your tongue at the mirror image. Payback for all the time Santi made someone chase him for a simple misunderstanding coming back ten fold. 

  “I didn’t hear you mijo, que pasó.” He slowly rolls him over as Santiago rubs his red eyes. 

  “I…don’t want…I don’t want.” He’s sniffling and Santi tries to calm him so he can catch his breath. 

  “Deep breaths bud.” 

  He shakily inhales and wipes his little hands on the blanket. “I don’t want Santa to break up our home.” 

  You could kill Maria for almost ruining Christmas morning, but you know one day you’ll get to tell this hilarious story to your children when they’re all grown up. You let Santiago take the reins even though you did kiss Santa. This was not your mess to clean up. 

  “Santiago, no one is breaking up our home. I love your mama very much.” Santiago crawls over to you as you wrap him up in your arms, kissing his unruly brown locks. 

  “You promise?” Your heart breaks a little as those little puppy dog eyes look up at you. 

  “Yes we promise.” He exhales as he relaxes in your arms and you look up at Santi incredulously. 

  “Santa is my friend…he’s allowed to kiss your mama.” Santiago looks up at his dad with pure shock written all over his face. 

  “WHAT!” He balks at him as you burst into a fit of laughter. 

  “HO, HO,HO…” The boisterous sound echoes down the hallway from the living room. 

  Santiago scrambles off your lap as you fall back with an oomph. Your belly won’t allow anymore movements like that so you succumb to the comfort of his tiny car bed, as his father chases after him. 

  ****

  Camila is standing in front of the tree as Santa hands her the first gift. 

  “Well hello little boy, would you like a gift from Santa?” 

  He runs up to him with his hands on his hips as he pokes him in the surprisingly hard belly. “Next time just drop off the gifts and go.” 

  Will looks up confused by his son's words as Frankie and Benny are losing it in the kitchen. 

  Santi stands there in the same stance. 

  “Don’t worry I’ll explain later.” 

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[intheorangebedroom]

Tonight you belong to me, chapter 5

Summary: He comes to you every Friday, in a shady motel on the outskirts of town. Time flies, in room number 2. How much longer do you have, just for the two of you?

Pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!Reader (OFC)

Rating: Explicit 🔞 see series masterlist for extensive tw.

A/N: Happy Frankie Friday, Orange bedroom besties 🧡 It's been a hot minute, I sincerely apologise. Thank you to everyone who stuck around, I hope it was worth it, and thank you to everyone who just passed by 🧡 @frannyzooey my love, thank you for your help on the Americanisms, invaluable as always 🧡

Word count: 13.8k

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Chapter 5: Time in a bottle

It’s late when you pull into the parking lot. Dusk cloaks the motel in its fuzzy veil, the surroundings fading in diffuse shadows. The single-story building stands out in the twilight, akin to an old ship. Wooden poles for masts, hanging lamps swaying gently in the briny breeze, their lights blurry in the muggy air. Tacky and warm, it wafts in through your car’s open windows, dampening the exposed skin of your forearms and the back of your neck. 

On the passenger seat, your iPhone’s screen glows in the semi-darkness with an incoming call. 

Adrian.  

“What now?” you sigh, through clenched teeth. 

Your eyes dart up to Frankie’s truck parked in front of you. The word FORD stretched in chrome letters on the tailgate, shining bright in your headlights. 

The familiar pull awakens between your constricted lungs. A pounding, greedy little tug compelling you to get out of your car and cover the distance to the room as quickly as your step will carry you. But you want to calm your nerves first. Slow down your heart rate, deepen your breathing. 

That discussion you had with your father, earlier this afternoon, still clings to your frame. The humiliation conveyed by his carefully chosen words like tar, black and viscous. You can almost smell its foul stench. And you don’t want to bring any of it inside. 

It’s only the third time Frankie gets here before you, if you count that very first Friday back in September. And the second, since you came back from Colorado earlier this month. The pressure in your rib cage eases at the memory of that sweet evening. 

All day long, you had rushed through your counting routine. Through the long, icy corridors of your glass prison. Rushed on the 589 northbound. Rushed to strangle the uncertainty of his presence there. 

It was a few minutes past 7pm when you parked next to his truck, his early presence cranking up your anxiousness. You got out of your car with an anguished scowl, and you all but ran toward the porch, toward the brass number 2, shoes scuffing the gravel. 

The door swung open the very second you stepped under the overhang. A flash of dimple, and his arms wrapped around your waist. He scooped you up from the floor, swift and easy, carrying you inside. Hungry kisses, teeth scraping at your jaw, down the line of your neck. A throaty husk of Happy New Year, Lee Abbott, as he tugged your clothes off your body that thrummed with his scent and his voice and his arms and his taste. 

With the density of him. 

He lifted you again, your short, giggly yelp bouncing across the room as he hauled you over his shoulder with an easy force. His steps long and balanced, as if your weight was inconsequential to his strength. 

In the dim bathroom, he put you down directly into the tub. There, he unbuckled his belt and slid down his jeans, looking at you with a mischievous grin you’d never seen before and that fitted his gorgeous face a little too well. 

“Told you I’d fuck you in this shower.” 

Thirty seconds later, you were standing together under an aggressive stream of scalding water, his broad back shielding you from the high pressure, steam blurring the tiles and the mirror. You pressed your face into his neck, hands splayed over his chest, feeling it heave with his low, rumbling chuckle. 

“ That’s the best I could do. This place is trash,” he scoffed, lips grazing your ear. 

“ It’s perfect,” you laughed. 

Another notification lights up your screen, yanking you back into the stifling cab of the sedan, to the nagging cramp poking your rib cage, to your hindered breathing. 

It glowers at you, bold black letters over a steel gray rectangle. 

MESSAGES 

Adrian

Your eyes flicker back to the red truck, your face crunching into a grimace. 

“Shit,” you grit, grabbing the phone and quickly pressing the home button before you can change your mind.  

The lock screen fades as the message app pops open. You squint against the brightness of the glowing white screen. 

I made it, babe. I fucking made it. You’re talking to the new senior partner of Balmer & Steigt.  Fuck yeah. I finally get what I fucking deserve.  

The gray ellipses start blinking underneath the bubble. You frown, bracing yourself. 

I couldn’t have made it without you. This is your victory as much as mine.

You scoff, but the dread-inducing ellipses keep bouncing happily. Fantastic. There’s more coming.

I got you something. Something fancy for my fancy girl.

“Oh, hell no.”  

Leaning down, you pick up the roomy I ❤ NY tote bag Ava got you as a Christmas present and dump your phone into it, before stuffing the bag under your seat. 

If only you could take a full breath. If only your chest would expend. It’s not that bad, really. A few months back, you would have been physically unable to keep going with your day after that conversation with your father. Let alone drive. You’d have suffocated, chocked up on your panic, until you’d been left with no choice other than to gulp down a pill, or two, or three, topped off with a swig of gin. The bitter taste of surrendering. 

Is that what it means, to give oneself some grace? You’re doing good, you’re doing better, you’re doing your best.

Closing your eyes, you exhale through pursed lips and ease down your shoulders. 

He had you called into his office by his secretary, as you were about to leave, bag in hand, counting steps. 

But you were expecting it. In all honesty, you’re surprised it’s taken him this long. Four weeks since you came back from Beaver Creek. Four weeks of defying his strict, outdated, misogynistic dress-code. 

The very first morning, you stepped out of the mirror-lined elevator on the 15th floor wearing high-waisted, wide-legged slacks and a loose button-up, the sleeves folded high on your forearms. And flat derbies.  

Nervousness, sitting heavy and queasy in the pit of your stomach, beating loud against your eardrums. Prickling under your armpits, raising the hair on your nape. 

Kaytee’s eyes widened as she caught sight of you walking by her office, before she remembered to police her expression. The shock on her face turned into something else, something worse. Lurking in the lift-up corner of her lips, in the smugness coloring her cheeks. Something sardonic. Condescension. 

“ You can’t spend your life trying to be someone else. ” Ava’s words through the receiver the previous night were a dizzying swirl inside your head, as you walked down the glass corridors, coworkers and subordinates watching you with a similar shocked expression, that blurred their features into one subdued, frightened face. 

But who the fuck am I, Ava? you wanted to ask, the only sound on the line that of your short breathing. How did you know who you were? Always. From the very beginning of your life. How did you know how to be so unapologetic about it? 

Had it been your gift to her? Does self-confidence require love? Or guidance? Is it innate? 

All you know, at this point in your life, is that wearing clothes that you chose for yourself seems like a sound first measure. One that you can actually undertake. 

And with that in mind, you stepped into your father’s office, your heart pulsating in your throat, to take a seat across from him, his clear desk standing like a wide canyon between you.

Now, your steps are nearly silent on the shifting gravel, as you walk across the parking lot, fingers brushing along the cool metal of the truck as you pass it by. That pull toward Frankie propelling you forward, inescapable, irresistible despite the nasty sensation oozing down along your legs like thick-flowing tar, weighing your gait. 

On the porch, you pause. On Friday evenings, this is when you shed your old skin. Healing wounds, scar tissues. When you set your eyes on the canopy as it swallows the sun, pink-orange dusk fading to dark. Grainy photographs, forgotten vacations. This is when your spine straightens, when you take in the horizon and let it deepen your breathing. When you ready yourself for the life you’ve chosen, between the brown carpet and the yellow curtains and his arms. 

But it’s already night. The darkness has erased the horizon and your old skin won’t shed. 

The door opens, a draft ruffling your hair.  

The first thing you see is the crease between his brow. The tick of his whiskered jaw, and then, his dark brown eyes, appraising the tension that winds up your body, appraising your silence. His grunt, like an echo, distant. 

“You sat in that car forever. I was about to come out and get you.”

The concern in his voice rattles something deep inside your belly. You’re not bringing any of it inside that room of yours, you think, as he pushes away from the door to let you in, as you cross the threshold, but it’s stuck to you. Your father’s voice. The tremendous power it still holds over you. His disappointment. Your failures, plural. All the wrong choices. 

His hat is set on the desk. His suede jacket is draped over the back of the angular wooden chair. Your gaze lingers on it, you can almost feel the comforting softness of the fabric under the pads of your fingers.

He stands a few feet away from you, giving you space. Dark mahogany searching your features, your posture. His hands propped on his hips, like that other night in the parking lot, after he’d seen the fresh scar in your hairline. 

You face away from him. The smell of the room is familiar, in a comforting way. Musty. Dust and the faintest perfume of industrial laundry detergent coming from the starched sheets. He’s pulled the bedspread off the bed. It’s folded neatly on the floor underneath the window. It rises tears along your throat, the idea of him prepping himself, prepping the place, alone in this room where you’ve waited for him countless times and hours. Guilt scrambles your brain, over what, you’re not entirely certain. Keeping him waiting? You failures, plural. All the wrong choices. 

“Lee.”

His voice seeps in through the blackness coating your skin, like warm and persistent little droplets of sweet amber.

You turn to face him, at last. An awkward upper-body twist, feet rooted to the brown carpet, teeth clenched around the lump in your throat. He’s wearing that gray threadbare t-shirt you love, the one with a v-neck, and your eyes find the dip at the base of his throat, the fireworks of freckles between his collarbone. Tears well up, too strong to hold back, and you shut your eyes to the muffled sound of his booted steps on the matted carpet.  

You’re drifting, enveloped in his warmth, his scent, leather and musk. The contact of his skin as he curls a large hand around your nape, tucking your face into the curve of his strong neck. 

His arm wraps around your waist, drawing you closer, flush to his chest, and he presses his chin to your temple. You let go, surrender, honey dripping thick and golden along your loosening limbs. 

His pulse beats solid and steady against your cheek. You breathe him in, a hindered inhale at first, and when your shoulders begin to drop, a deeper one. A single tear escapes. It rolls down the round of your cheek into his skin. Your palms skim up to the plane of his back, soaking in his heat, and he presses you in harder, his forearm aligning with your spine, fingers spreading at the base of your skull. 

Time stretches. He holds you. You lean in. 

Later, after he’s helped you climb into the cab of his truck, you keep your eyes on him as he rounds the red hood.

Sitting behind the wheel, he puts the key in the ignition and, looking at you, tilts his head to the left. 

“C’mere,” he says, and you scoot next to him, biting down a relieved sigh as you slide over the seat bench. 

He leans over your lap, grabbing the middle seat belt, and buckles you in, then himself. You settle in, with your head against his shoulder, and your hand on his thigh, soft cotton, worn denim. Under your touch, his firm muscles ripple as he drives you into the night, into oblivion. The steady motion lulling you to sleep.

Alongside the deserted road, trees and bushes roll out in the headlights as the truck swallows miles and miles of asphalt. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble after a while, fighting drowsiness.

“Don’t be. You wanna talk about it?” he adds after a pause.

“No.” 

You shake your head, your voice so low you’re not certain he’s heard your answer.

“Doesn’t have to be now,” he says. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Your head bobs with his bunching muscles as he releases the wheel to bend his arm at the elbow, fingers threading through your hair. Without lifting his eyes off the road, he leans in, and pecks a pointed kiss on the crown of your head. 

Your eyes close. The image of the bedspread neatly folded underneath the window flashes through your mind. You can’t seem to get used to his tender gestures, to his attentions. You hope they will never stop. You hope you will never get used to them. 

The emotion washes over you, a soft wave, and you float with it. In the cab of his truck, in his scent and his hold, you feel free of all doubts. Fear and pain cannot find you here. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced so far, a strange feeling, potent and all encompassing, albeit one that doesn’t need to be dulled or tamed. 

The words come out of your mouth as a surprise. 

“I think I don't want it to define me anymore. My family, I mean. Where I come from.”  

This is a new state of mind. Or perhaps it’s been there for a while, a mere shadow on the wall, something you couldn’t clearly discern. Suddenly simple to comprehend and articulate.

“Yea. I get it,” he says.

And you know he does. 

You open your eyes, and take in a deep breath, fill your lungs with that distinct old leather scent that clings about him, and the smell of vintage Bakelite from the dashboard, so specific to his truck.  

“Music?” you ask.

“Sure, good idea. You like Jefferson Airplane?”

You nod, brushing your cheek against the cottony fabric of his t-shirt, leaving a little bit of you there, for him to find later.

“Yes. I like them.”

“Jefferson Airplane it is, then,” he answers. 

Gently, he bends forward, mindful not to nudge you too much, and turns on the stereo. His thick fingers push the tape that’s already there into the slot, and your lips curl with an explicit thought, unlike any you used to have before meeting him. Crude, but welcome pictures that now constantly crowd your brain. 

He keeps the volume low, and with the round rumbling of his quiet humming, your mind slowly drifts off again. 

You’re about to fall asleep when a thought surfaces, skirting the edges of your consciousness. 

“Frankie?” you quietly call. 

“Mmh?”

“Are you… Were you in the military?”

The humming stops, his silence abrupt, and his shoulder tenses under your cheek. Pushing away from it, you risk a sleepy glance at his face, plunged in the semi-darkness. It’s not dark enough that you don’t recognize the cocking of his jaw. 

“Frankie?” you ask again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean–”

“I’m a pilot,” he cuts in, pausing to inhale deeply. “I was in the Army for nearly twenty years. I got a discharge a couple years back.” 

You remain silent. His eyes flicker quickly between you and the road, and you give his thigh a strong squeeze with your left hand, before resting your cheek against his shoulder, eluding his searching gaze.

Volunteers is crackling through the speakers, but you don’t hear the music. Fully awake now, your mind is reeling with those scattered, minute parts of him you picked up Friday after Friday to stash them away in your subconscious. His puzzle of shadows. All the things that now make perfect sense, and the ones you’re dying to unravel. 

His quiet assertiveness. His hands, quick and sure. His silences. His commanding tone. That long, sideways scar etched on his left flank. 

His early rage, and his anger too. The flight forward, dimming his eyes, where deep rich mahogany now glimmers. 

The zip ties. Your eyes grow wide, a gasping sound catching in your throat. You’re not ready to address how much you appreciate this particular skill of his, considering where he picked it up.  

Your imagination produces a clear vision of him in a US Air Force uniform, the fabric stretched over his broad shoulders, and you bite your lip, your entire body covering in chills. 

Frankie has yet to say another word. Something raises your consciousness, something in the scowl sharpening his features as he scanned your face for a reaction. 

Images flash through your head. The 8 × 10 picture displayed in your father’s office in its platinum frame, for every visitor to admire. Smooth faced and confident, his sleeves rolled up high on his lean forearms, your father’s shaking hands with Reagan in front of a colorful assemblage of containers, in the industrial quarter of the Tampa Bay Harbor, during the 1984 campaign. His coldly handsome face split by a smile, larger and more genuine than any of those he ever addressed you, let alone Ava. 

Recollections of those dragging hours you spent in church as a child, beads of sweat dripping along your spine as you sat in the sweltering heat on a hard wooden bench, rigid and still like a marble statue for fear of being reprimanded. 

The hateful, vehement speeches your father would burst into at random, your mother pinching your arm for you to listen, this is important. The uneasy feeling sitting in the pit of your stomach, like bile, like nausea. Wrong. This is wrong. A feeling, not an idea yet. It grew with you, expending, to become impossible to see past by the time you started high.

The list of names in your father’s neat handwriting, scrawled on a crisp piece of paper, that he handed you before driving the entire family to the polls for your very first election. The sheer terror, primitive in its hold over you, prickling on your nape as you systematically disregarded his instructions, choosing the names followed by the three letters DEM. 

The rare political meetings you secretly attended in college, the pamphlets in loud colors and bold letters, that you read hidden from your roommate’s prying eyes, as if they were satanic verses. Reproductive rights! Demilitarization Now! No to privatized prisons! End gun violence! 

Petitions you signed with a shaking hand, because what if your parents found out? What if they heard of it? A dread so profoundly anchored at the very core of your psyche that you have never told Ava any of it, even when she would chastise your lack of interest in politics, your lack of involvement, lest she’d reveal your treason to them in the heat of an argument.

Could this be when you started finding yourself? In your diverging convictions? Could it be enough? Could it count? 

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask tentatively.

He huffs a short, bitter laugh, shaking his head. 

“You’re a hell of a fast learner, aren’t you?”

“I have a very good teacher,” you shrug, trying to ignore the sharpness in his tone. 

Curiosity overthrowing your ingrained fear to displease, you ask, “What kind of aircraft do you fly? Planes? Helicopters?”

He simply nods, and your cheeks heat again at the notion, your heart racing. 

“I’m very impressed,” you whisper. “I can barely parallel park.”

“I’m sure you got plenty of other skills,” he answers, softer. 

“No. I really don’t.”

—

Frankie walks briskly across the parking lot, carrying a take-away bag and a six-pack of beer. His head hung low to shield his face from the thin, mid-February drizzle. His denim shirt sticks to his back with humidity, and sweat from the drive. It’s pulled uncomfortably taut across his shoulders. 

He steps onto the porch, hands too full to open the door or even knock on it, so he gives it three light kicks. A tiny screw pops out from the curved top of the brass number two. The whole thing swivels upside down, swinging like a pendulum.

“Jesus christ, this fucking place,” he scoffs.

The door flies open, and you’re here, with that bright, earnest smile and your wide, luminous eyes. You’ve tied your hair up in a casual do, but you’re still fully dressed. He likes those slacks on you, snug on your curves, wide on your legs. It fits you so much better than the tight pencil skirts you used to wear when he first met you. Those made you look like an 80s porn producer fever dream. But these trousers transform your gait, your entire demeanor, into something more relaxed. More confident. He could watch you strut around the room for hours. If only there was more time.  

He catches a glimpse of the mesh fabric of your bra, peeking out from the cleavage of your open shirt, and he mentally curses the corporate fucks who get to work all week around you.

“Hey, Frankie.”

The sharp, familiar pang rips through his chest at the sound of your voice, light and cheery. That ache he waits for seven excruciatingly long days to experience again.

“Hey, baby.”

As you let him in, he feels the tip of your fingers brushing his thigh, as if you need to make sure he’s here in the flesh. The miracle of you wanting him, still. 

“What’s in the bag?” you ask, dragging the chipped chair away from the desk, so he can set down his bounty. 

His eyes fall on your graceful nape as you crane your neck to see what’s inside the bag, too well-behaved to touch it without having been invited to do so. 

“Didn’t have time to eat. I took something for you too, I hope you don’t mind. Did you eat? Are you hungry?”

“I don’t usually eat before I come here,” you admit. “I drive in straight from work,” you add, heat visibly creeping up your neck and ears.

He takes off his hat, ruffling a hand through his hair to conceal a smug smile. 

“And you’re not starving, by the time I’m finished with you?”

“Quite the contrary, actually. I feel pretty full when you leave.”

Your lips stretch into a wide grin you’re ineffectively trying to hold back. 

“That so?” he chuckles, propping his hands on his hips. For countenance. 

Pride glimmers in your eyes, as it does every time you make him laugh. He knows it’s mirrored in his eyes. Your levity is his reward. 

Everything about you is unbearably endearing. He’s not sure if he’s hungry for food anymore, or if he’s not going to go straight down on you. You’ve already prepared the bed, that ugly bedspread neatly folded under the window. He could lay you prone on your stomach, lower your trousers to your knees, perk up your pretty ass and eat your sweet cunt from behind.

His hunger for you sizzles along his spine, sparkling in his loins, imperious and distracting. The sensation is delicious, and for once, he takes the time to revel in it. He’s so used to barging in here and just taking. He doesn’t savor, not really, not until after he’s had you at least once. 

He’s not proud of his unbridled hunger, the consequence of seven days’ worth of pent-up frustration, chasing your perfume on his clothes and the ghost feeling of your cool, smooth skin under his palms. That ever-growing obsession for your scent, for your eyes, and that crippling craving for the sounds you produce when he moves inside you. That high he gets when he makes you feel good. Every time he gives you what you want. 

And there’s the absolute black-out on all communications between you throughout the week that drives him out of his mind. He knows that’s the tacit deal the two of you struck at the very beginning. No phone number, no address, no marks. Hell, he didn’t even know your name until you gave it to him at Christmas. Only, he’s left in the dark for seven consecutive fucking days, with no means to check up on you, and no way to make sure you’re safe. 

He understands the necessity for secrecy. But the more time passes, the less it makes sense. 

So come Friday night, he needs to crush you under his weight. Needs to feel your flesh gushing through his splayed fingers and hear you mewl his name, eyes rolling to the back of your head, your body tensing up in his hold before it shatters around his cock. 

He needs to fuck you deep and full, find you in that place within yourself and wreck you there. He needs to make sure you’re alright. Make sure you’re real. Make sure you’re his. 

And his control might be tenuous, but he sure loves the way you lean into it. 

You’re still smiling when he takes a step closer behind you. Lowering his face into the curve of your neck, he inhales you there, that spot behind your ear, where your subtle scent becomes heady. He feels your chest rising with your own deep breathing, and he pictures your eyes fluttering shut. His hand skims the curve of your hip, sliding up to the swell of your breast over the smooth fabric of your shirt, gripping you roughly as he takes your earlobe between his lips and sucks on it. His hips move against your ass of their own volition, his cock half-hard, fucking twitching.

“Frankie,” you whine.

“Yea?”

He licks a broad stride up your neck, collecting the tangy taste of your skin, mixed with the chemical one of your perfume. 

“What’s in the bag?”

“What bag, baby? Oh, right.”

It’s a beat before he can detach himself from you. His cock is beating hard and angry against the confining fabric of his jeans. With a light brush of his knuckles along your side, he reminds himself there’s also pleasure in the anticipation. The word sits in the back of his throat, like a knife ready to bleed him dry. Concupiscence. 

Ripping the paper bag open in the middle, he smooths both sides neatly over the desk, and points at the three rolls wrapped in tin foil.

“Took three burritos, and some fried beans. There’s one beef, one pork, and one vegetarian, in case you don't eat meat.”

You look at him with a twinkle in your eyes, your grin getting wider than he’s ever seen it. He braces a hand flat on the desk. 

“Oh, I eat meat, I thought you’d know that.”

The words have barely left your mouth that you burst into a fit of giggles, covering your face with both hands.

“Christ, woman!” he laughs. “Alright, sit down. Let’s get proper food into that mouth of yours, for once.”

Together, you unfold the bedspread and arrange it over the foot of the bed. The thing is already stained, and you mutually agree there’s no need to make a mess of the white sheet just yet. 

Letting you pick between the two richer ones, he takes the vegetarian burrito, and you start eating together, two open cans of beer at your feet. 

His bites are ravenous, while you nibble gingerly at your food, holding the burrito with two hands, the foil crackling between your fingers. After a few bites, however, you start eating in bigger chunks. 

“This is delicious,” you moan with your mouth full. 

Is he getting jealous of a fucking burrito now? Is that where he’s at?

“What, you never had a burrito in your life?”

You wince, and he immediately regrets the teasing skepticism of his tone. 

Setting the food down, you dab a paper towel to the corner of your mouth, catching a fleck of sauce. There’s grace in all your movements, even the tiniest ones.  

“My mother monitored everything I ate. God forbid I put on any weight,” you explain, a hint of bitterness in your voice. 

He lowers his hands, eyes trained on your averted gaze. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” you tell him, looking up at him.

There’s that quiet resignation painted all over your face. 

“Try me.”

“You’re thinking I’m a grown woman, old enough to make her own decisions.”

He shakes his head. “Was actually thinking your mother sounds like the exact opposite of mine.”

Your mouth curves into a sad attempt at a smile.

“I don't judge you, Lee. We all do what we can with what we got dealt with.”

A slight frown knits your brow, as you seem to consider his words. 

He has spent a lot of time, lately, reflecting over his own choices, and the many places where they’ve led him, for better or for worse. 

Afghanistan, Iraq, Syria. Libya and the most dangerous places in sub-Saharan Africa. Nearly everywhere in South America. Twice over.

Over the fucking Andes, and to Tom’s funeral. 

Choices that also made him Lua’s father. 

Crossroads that have taken him all the way to that shithole bar, last year at the end of August. Conscious decisions that brought him here, into this room. Into your arms. Into your life.

A chain reaction he wouldn’t alter, he knows it now, even if he was given the chance for a do-over. 

He used to consider things as definite. Choices as absolute and irrevocable. It took him becoming a father, and meeting you, to understand his mother’s words. Paso a paso, she’d say, watching him with a tender, knowing smile as he rushed toward his life. Paso a Paso, Francisco. 

You eat in silence for a while, and he keeps watching you. That sharp pain solidly entrenched inside his chest, blooming through his heart, he has to make a conscious effort to breathe around it. 

He bought you the food you’re eating right now. Drove to his favorite place, stood in line and placed his order with you in mind. And you’re enjoying it. In fact, you’re demonstrating an impressive appetite, hungrier, messier with every bite. Sauce dripping down your chin. Pink flashes of tongue licking it from between your fingers. 

He could get used to that. Providing for you. Taking care of you. In more than just one way. Sharing the mundane routine of a daily life together. 

But this is not real. Whatever is happening between the four walls of this shitty motel is not ground for life-altering choices. 

“Do you want to share the pork one?” you ask, crinkling the tinfoil wrapper into a compact ball. 

“I’m good, baby,” he answers with a soft smile. “You can have it. Just make sure you’re still hungry for more meat when you’re done.”

—

Adrian has gifted you a new purse from another French luxury brand. It’s a square-shaped thing cut from some grayish reptile skin, with a matching tag and a decorative lock hanging from its handle. It looks insanely expensive and ridiculously vulgar, its tackiness almost cruelly ironic. Like a rich people’s inside joke.  

Somehow, you’re vaguely aware this model is exclusive and can’t be bought online or even in stores, however high-end. It has to be ordered, and there’s a waiting list. Useless knowledge you probably gathered from one of your mother’s magazines. A family of four could most likely live comfortably for a whole year for the price of this thing. 

Incidentally, there’s a new perfume clinging to Adrian’s clothes when he comes home late at night. The first time you caught a whiff of the heady fragrance, intense vanilla and white musk, it reminded you of the stunning blonde with feline hazel eyes. 

The gift immediately felt less like an expression of gratitude for your support than like a reward for your silent compliance. But it’s of little to no importance. The bag sits idly at the bottom of your walk-in dressing. Unused, containing what’s left of the love and respect you once harbored for the man. 

Every so often, you think about it, as you cruise along the 589. It makes you smile. A wide, Cheshire cat grin, one that bares your front teeth, and you wonder if it’s cruel of you to smile about the end of something that used to mean so much. Something that meant nearly everything. You wonder if you’ve ever been cruel before. Intentionally, that is. 

Then, you conclude you don’t care. This particular kind of cruelty feels far too good. Too righteous. You could get used to it. 

And you keep cruising along the 589 northbound. 

—

“Mark Twain or Lewis Carroll?”

“Oh god, Frankie, I don’t know…” you moan, too distracted to think straight. 

Teeth ghosting a bite over your neck, he wraps a kiss around your skin, sucking on it. Not sharply enough to bruise, but enough for you to clench hard around him.

In the past few weeks, he’s become playful. It’s new to you. Was it always a part of him, constituent but buried underneath the scars and the years, or was it born from your touch? 

He’s become talkative, too. Talkative, and curious. But then again, perhaps he always was. Only, not with you. 

Thus, there are new rituals between you. Secrets exchanged behind the shielding partition of the yellow curtains. Murmurs shared underneath the droning of the ceiling fan, in the golden lighting from the quaint bedside lamps.

Some of his questions can pose a challenge. You’re not always certain about the proper answer. The right one. You were raised to say what was expected of you. Taught to speak to please, not to speak your mind. To wait for your cue, and hold your thoughts in between.

Frequently, you hesitate, afraid to trip on your words. 

But he doesn’t easily relent. He’s playful and curious. But above all, he’s patient and persistent.

“I don’t know,” you repeat.

“You know. Come on.”

“Okay, um… Lewis Carroll. I love– I love Alice.”

“Oh yea? You do? You like following big white rabbits to strange places, huh?”

His chest shakes with his raspy chuckle, and you laugh, until he pulls you in closer, sheathing himself deeper inside you, and your laughter plummets into a throaty groan.

Seamlessly, these new ceremonials have replaced the old ones, the ones that were carried out under wary gazes, in appraising silence.  

Now, you don’t always count your steps on Fridays, but you leave work earlier, and when you arrive at the motel, you try to engage Raul in conversation. His discomfort is obvious, bordering on annoyance, as you disrupt his concentration while he’s busy drawing charcoal landscapes of jagged mountains. But these past two weeks, he seems to have loosened up a bit. Either you’re wearing him off, or he’s trying to get rid of you faster. 

On the porch, in front of room number 2, you watch the sun slowly sink into the canopy of trees in an explosion of tangerine pink. Every week, the sunset creates a different palette of orange, but your emotion continues to be whole and unaltered. 

Before stepping in, you flick the upside-down brass number. It smiles in greeting, swinging on its one remaining screw.

You wish the place carried Frankie’s scent. It never does, of course. As you fold the comforter and prop it under the windowsill, the only smells wafting around are that of laundry detergent, dust, and the faintest hint of mold. 

There’s nothing tangible for you to hold on to in his absence, and this is by far the most difficult. It creates a vacuum, a fertile soil for foul, festering thoughts. Doubt, dread, agitation. During those seven days apart, there is no text or voicemail on your phone you can turn to for reassurance. No photo booth pictures stashed inside your wallet. No clothes of his to drape over your body and keep you warm and safe. Keep you sane. 

Every so often, when you cannot find sleep, you convoke the memory of his gray t-shirt, the one with the v-neck and the pilled fabric. The sensation of the slightly rugged cotton under the pads of your fingers. The immediate comfort gently lulls you to sleep. 

There is one thing, one thing only: the receipt from the burrito place, that you retrieved from the wastebasket after he’d left, that one time he brought you food. It’s tucked between two pages of your Moleskine planner. You’re not sure whether it’s cute or downright pathetic.  

You had thought the want, the yearning, would ease with time. It only kept spreading to every corner of your existence, every aspect of your life. Instead of only missing his touch, you now miss his voice, too. His choice of words, the cadence of his speech, the pace of his gait. His crinkled-eyes, dimpled smile. The way he rolls up his sleeves, leaves the top buttons of his shirt open, and the way he undresses. His three-finger hold on his glass. His long reflecting pauses before he speaks. The freedom and safety you experience with him.

You just became better at handling the longing. Recently, you have become very good at handling numerous things. Quietly but steadfastly defying your father’s injunctions to comply with his dress code. Adrian’s glaring eyes of blue, their silent judgement. Ava living a life of her own, far away from you. 

Reading helps. You hadn’t read in years, and you hadn’t realized how much you’d missed it. Now, you carry a book with you everywhere in your I ❤ NY tote. In these last moments before he walks into the room, you lie on your side across the motel bed, your head propped on your hand, and you read.

And when Frankie arrives, everything makes sense again, everything is justified. 

The wooden door creaks open, the brass number swiveling frantically, and his relief upon seeing you lights up the dim room. Hushed greetings, his large hands curling at your waist, pulling you into him, a husk of Hey, baby, his lips barely leaving yours while he tugs at your clothes, undressing you already. 

There’s rarely any other form of preamble beyond an occasional variation of Fuck, I really missed you, Lee , his teeth trailing down the line of your throat, sinking in just shy of a bite. Out of breath, out of time. 

The wait is over. 

Does he still come here to escape? Does he come here for you? His urgency hasn’t abated. But his intent feels different.

Stop me, skin on skin, chest to chest, the weight of his body covering yours, calloused hands hooked on your shoulders for purchase, pounding into you loud and ruthless. 

Stop me, crouched over you like a devouring beast, his face buried into the crook of your neck, shallow breaths and gripping hands, grinding deep inside your heat. 

Stop me, and what you hear is, I trust you. 

Deep grunts thrumming out of his throat, tumbling from his plush lips into your skin, a searing branding, an invisible mark. 

His plea. Lee.

He comes right after you do, pulling out just in time to spurt hot and thick over your arching body, or inside your wanting mouth. 

Later, when his spend has dried on your skin, when he’s kissed the soreness better, when your breathing has slowed, he brings you a glass of water, and waits until you’ve drank it all to bury his face between your legs, or fuck your throat if you begged him to. 

And on some Fridays, he goes by the desk to sit on the rectangular chair. He positions it sideways from the framed mirror. Says the reflection distracts you. It’s true. 

You could spend hours watching him. Watching him move, watching him sleep. Watch the care he puts in the way he handles his clothes and his truck and your pliant body. Watch him button up his jeans or tie his belt around your wrists. Watch his curls catch the light as he combs his fingers through them, the working of his throat, the pulsating throb of his heartbeat in his strong neck. The dip in his collarbone. The darker scar on his side. The muscles of his shoulders and his back, rippling under his freckled skin. Watch, and map those freckles with your lips. 

You could spend the rest of your life with him.

“C’mere,” he beckons, with a little tilt of his head, and a light pat on his thigh.

You get up from wherever he left you lying, the bed, the rough carpeting, the bathroom tiles, and walk over to him on wobbly legs. There, he draws you into his lap in a face-away straddle, his hands on your waist guiding you, firm and gentle, as he makes room for himself inside of you. The tip of your toes barely reach the carpet once you’re seated, and you have to rely entirely on him for balance. You like that. 

He braces his strong arms around you, and you keep your fingers curled around them, reclining against him, against his warmth. You like the sticky sensation of your combined sweats gluing your loose bodies. Your back molds to his chest like it was shaped for this very purpose. 

Your head tips back onto his firm shoulder, and he props his chin in the curve of your neck. The slight swaying of your hips is languid and slow, barely perceivable, in the same way the earth’s revolution around the sun is imperceptible to its inhabitants. 

Time lingers, in long lazy stretches, infinite moments in the amber lighting of the room, in the friendly shadows. In the heart of the night, and the folds of your existence. The low husk of his voice like honey in your ears, his words vibrating from his chest to your back, to your core. 

You can hear the smile in his tone. If you close your eyes, you can see it.

He asks about your taste in books, music or movies, food and entertainment, and tells you about his. Silly games of Would you rather? and Never have I ever. 

Scrunching up your nose under your pinched brow, brain cells scrambling back together inside your hazy brain, you try to produce coherent answers as his lush lips trace intricate patterns along your skin, your throat, your shoulders, nimble fingertips rolling your nipples into hardened peaks. A scrape of his teeth, followed by the wet glide of his tongue, soothing over your flushed skin.

Sometimes, you feel so full it’s overwhelming. The sensation, the emotion strangles the air out of you. Your cunt flutters around the thick, stiff girth of him, and he lets out a gravelly groan, cock throbbing inside your snug walls. Your slick pools down onto the coarse curls at his base. It’s like a virtuous circle. Everything feels right with him. 

After a while, when you’ve melted inside, when amber twirls in your bloodstream and your thoughts have turned to swirling molasses, his hand slides down along your stomach. His calloused fingers parting your folds, he starts rubbing at your clit, telling you that it’s time to come for me, baby. 

And when you do, he comes with you, shoving you down and deep onto his pulsating length, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips. His mouth pressed to that sensitive spot over your pulse point, his feverish grunts sizzling against your damp skin. 

When he comes inside you, when you come together, you are made brand-new. Anything’s possible. There’s nothing you can’t do. 

The elating sensation is your favorite daydream, sitting at your desk, over dinner, stuck in traffic, or in the blue hours before dawn. It sustains you throughout the week. The promise of it tingles in tense anticipation, from the crown of your head to the tip of your toes, when you watch him walk over to the desk and fold his tall, massive figure into the ugly chair. 

Week after week, question after question, you come into focus between his arms. It’s terrifying, and exhilarating. You keep getting better at it.

It’s a bittersweet ache, tender and addictive, to learn about his existence outside this room of yours. The borderless confines of his life. Of him. The details he chooses to confide in you, about his childhood, his past, and his present, in the dead of the night, his body wrapped around yours, chasing the contact of your skin. Chasing your touch, your softness, your understanding, when he used to grunt away from it. Like a threat, with bared teeth, and a shake of his head. A forbidding. A not yet. 

It makes sense to you now. There’s an absolute about him. An all or nothing. You’re not sure when it happened. The tipping point. Perhaps in the bathroom, on that sunny morning after Christmas, when he crowded you against the sink with a wolfish look turning his gorgeous face dark and threatening. You think it was meant to scare you. One last attempt. Your last chance to recoil and escape. 

You didn’t. You kept blooming, unfurling into your own limbs under the dark depth of his gaze, reflected in the black-edged mirror. You pressed back into him, the solid, steadying bulk of his body, of his broad chest. You pushed back and sunk deeper into his world. 

Today, he had to scoop you up from the floor where you were lying, boneless, in the wet mess he drew out of you. 

When he stormed into the room, you could still hear the engine of the truck revving. A scowl shadowed his face. Fidgety, tightly wound up, he began undressing you without a word. Unceremonious in his need, an echo of those early days, when he was imprisoned in his past, when his strength was unrestrained, when violence was his sole language. 

Fingers digging into the tense muscles of his shoulders, carding through his hair, you sought eye contact, softly cooing, I’m here, Frankie, I’m here, until your voice got through him. Until he heard you, slowing down, drawing you close. His forehead smearing sweat over your temple, his ragged breathing fanning the shell of your ear. His fist clutching the fabric of your shirt in a ball, with a push-pull motion, torn and primal, I need it, Lee. Please, I need you.

You relented, gave into it, lose and pliant as he bent you over the desk with a press of his palm, flat between your shoulder blades, as he pulled your panties to the side and lined himself up, as he thrust into you in one ruthless shove, down to his base. The clasp of his watch biting into your flesh. He was still fully clothed. 

Pulling on your wrists with an iron grip, he drilled into you at a brutal pace, skin catching at your entrance along his length, and you bit your lips through it, nearly drawing blood, until, at the very center of you, the pain turned into something blindingly pleasurable, bright and searing. A shockwave, erupting from your core, fast spreading along your limbs, lighting up every nerve-ending. 

Tensing under his constraining hold, bucking against his grip, you cried out his name, your back achingly stiff. Slick gushing out of you fast and hot, as your legs trembled uncontrollably, and through the din of it all, his rumbling growl, a guttural string of Fuck, before you slumped onto the desk and he fucked his own release into you. 

When he let go of you, he had to lay you on the carpet, where he collapsed next to you, chest heaving with exertion. Time blurred, you might have spent the whole night lying there, staring blankly at the popcorn ceiling, but he got up to undress.

He’s cradling you on his lap now, gently rocking into you. The slow and steady rhythm of his heartbeat aligned with yours, you’re bathed in his warmth, enveloped by his musky scent. You play along, searching your brain for answers. To his questions, and yours.  

There’s no evidence of his earlier outburst, saved for his thumbs drawing circles on your wrists where his fingers left a bruising indent. And of course, the wet spot on the carpet. 

Nuzzling your jawline, he trails a path of messy, lazy kisses down the column of your neck, capturing the tender skin between his plush lips, his tongue peeking through them.

“I should read it again. Alice. Read it so long ago. When I was a kid.”

Humming distractedly in agreement, your head lolls back on his shoulder. 

“Did I hurt you, earlier?”

Your eyelids fly open. His voice is barely a murmur, no more than warm breath grazing your ear, and you feel him throb inside you. 

“I don’t want to hurt you. I never want to hurt you.”

The vulnerability in his words shoots through your heart like a bullet. You free your arms to twine your fingers with his. 

“What happened today, Frankie?” 

His chest stiffens underneath you. 

“Nothing. Nothing happened. It’s more… It’s the date.”

The overhead fan hums over the room, louder than your breathing, louder than his. 

“A year ago, I agreed to a mission. With my former teammates. It was… It was bullshit. From the start. Nothing went as planned.”

He pauses and you wait, still and silent. 

“One of us got killed.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, squeezing his hands with all of your strength.

A chilling, bone-deep dread settles over your body in the sweltering heat, so cold he can probably feel it. You don’t want him to. 

“You said you resigned a couple of years ago?” 

“I did. I worked for the private sector, on occasions. It’s over now.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Fuck no,” he snarls. “But some of my friends did. I– I had to go.” He clears his throat. “I chose to go.”

“Do you miss him?”

He doesn’t answer for a while. Lifting his hand in yours, you give his knuckles a long, open-mouthed kiss. His forehead rests heavy against the back of your head, his eyelashes a fluttering caress on your nape. 

“For a long time, I felt responsible for his death.”

His words are dense with defeat. With sadness, and fatality. They sink heavily into you, into your bloodstream. You don’t need a mirror to know what his face looks like at this very moment. Your body will remember it, even if you live long enough to forget your own name. The pitch-blackness of his beautiful eyes, the stern crease splitting his brow, imploring for your touch. The tightness in his jaw. The downward curve of his plush lips.

That first night at the motel comes back rushing like a flood, like a wildfire. His roughness, the urgency saturating his actions, the anger in his grief. His bleeding wounds, invisible, evident, glaring. He reached for you through his despair, clutching your body, clinging to the idea of you. 

Are you real?  

I don’t know. 

A dry sob wells up in your throat, but you swallow it down. 

“What do you think now?”

“I think it doesn’t matter who’s responsible for his death. His girls are still orphaned.”

Between your lungs, the wild creature curls up into a ball. Its tears fill up your heart. There isn’t any pill or alcohol strong enough to numb this pain of yours. But it doesn’t matter. You want to feel what he feels.

You turn around. You kiss him.

—

“What about this one?”

He should be leaving soon. But your body’s soft and relaxed, curled into his side on the rumpled bed. Pleasantly cool in the muggy atmosphere of the motel room, in the dawn’s indigo hues. Your thin fingers hover gracefully over his skin, tracing the outlines of his scars, and it’s like you’re reshaping his entire body, all of his wounds, and his whole life, with the gentle touch of your fingertips.

“Frankie, what’s this one?”

He should be leaving soon. The sun’s about to come up. 

“Did you save it for last because it’s the largest?” he deflects with a smirk.

Folding an arm over his chest, you prop your chin over it, frowning exaggeratedly with your jaw shifting to the side. He laughs so hard that your head bobbles with his shaking belly.

“That supposed to be an impression of me?”

“You recognized yourself,” you smile, sitting up next to him.

He should be leaving soon. And you know it. You’re giving him the space he needs to get up and get out. He fucking hates it.

“Stay here,” he says, curling his fingers around your arm as you’re about to get down from the bed.

The look you give him awakens the pain in his chest. You peer through the curtains, into the blue morning sky, and your gaze returns to him with a silent question. 

“Come on. Please. Just a little longer.”

It’s not lost on him that he should be the one getting up. Not pleading.

The mattress creaks in protest as you move over it on your knees, sitting in a straddle across his hips. 

“Yea, that’s better,” he smiles, smoothing his palms over your thighs. His left hand slides up to palm your breast, and he notices he hasn’t taken off his watch, tonight. It’s the second time this month.

“What’s this one?” you ask again, entirely undistracted, measuring up your hand to the length of the darker patch of skin. 

“Okay,” he sighs, “I crashed a chopper near– wait, I can’t actually tell you that.”

“Jesus, Frankie,” you gasp, spreading both hands over the old wound, as if to stop a ghost bleeding. Your eyes have grown so wide, they eat up half your face.

“It’s okay, baby, it’s old. Wasn’t a big deal.”

It had been a big deal, at the time. There had been talks of awarding him a Silver Star for that mission.

“Did it hurt?”

“Mostly my pride. It wasn’t that bad, don’t worry. Nothing compared to what my sister threatened to do to me if I didn't leave the Army.” 

“I can’t say I blame her. I would have probably done the same.”

“Ok, my turn. What’s this one?”

His left thumb skims along the thin line on your inner thigh, and he feels you tensing under his touch.  

“It’s nothing,” you snap, taking your hands off his skin as if you just got burnt. 

He presses his thumb into your soft flesh. The pain in his chest accentuates, radiating down to his stomach. 

“You’re cheating,” he says, as softly as he can. 

You face away from him, gaze flickering up to the window again, and you start moving away, but he holds you firmly in place with both hands on your waist. 

“Lee. Tell me what it is.”

Seconds turn into minutes, the only sound in the room that of the ceiling fan’s motor, and the pain grows stronger, pulsating from his neck to his gut. Your eyes remain trained on the window, lost somewhere beyond the curtains. 

“I had several more like this,” you start. Your tone is detached, your voice distant. “Smaller ones. On the back of my arms. When I was 17, my mother took me to a dermatologist. He removed them with laser treatment.” 

You pause, and look down at him. 

“She got me fixed, so I could find a good husband.”

His fingers dig into your flesh. It’s a full minute before he remembers to breathe, through his nose, because he can’t unclench his jaw. The chest pain turns into blinding, white-hot rage. His truck is parked outside and in his mind, the sequence of actions is crystal clear. Get you dressed. Get you in the cab. Drive away with you as far as the road goes, and never come back here. 

“It burnt like hel—“

“You’re perfect, you know that?” he cuts in. 

“I’m really not, Frankie,” you calmly answer. “What I am is a coward.”

He sits up with a cinch, cupping your face so you can’t recoil from him. Somehow, this would be easier if you looked upset. If you were crying. Showing any kind of emotion, really. But you’re far beyond that. 

“I can’t let you say that. Not when you risk everything to come here every week.”

“Alright, so I’m a selfish coward,” you say with a joyless little smile. 

“No. You’re perfect. You’re my perfect girl. Say it.”

It’s there. Your unbending will, your steel-hard determination. In your defiant gaze and your pinched lips. In the distance you're trying to put between your body and his. 

“Okay, fine. Don’t say it. I’ll keep repeating it until you believe me. I can be fucking persistent, you know?” he adds, falling back onto the pillows.

“I know you can,“ you say, lifting a leg off the bed.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he nearly growls, a bruising grip on your thigh, “I’m not done with you.”

His clipped tone appears to be more effective on you. You sit back down, let your shoulders relax, and the palm of your hands find his skin again. Distant gaze, cold touch.

“What’s this one?” he asks, the blunt fingernail of his thumb grazing the grid-shaped scar on your left knee, his tone barely a question, and to his surprise, you come alive with a spark in your eyes. 

“Oh! This one’s a good scar. I like it.”

You adjust your position over him, slotting your folds over his resting cock, and a coiling heat stirs in his loin.

“I had a bicycle when I was a kid. The most beautiful bicycle in the entire world. Red, the exact same shade as your truck. With a round cushion protection on the frame, I don’t know how you call that, and the letters MBK painted in white over it, you know the kind?”

He nods, and you continue talking. 

“I would spend hours riding it. I would disappear for entire afternoons. It was heaven. And maybe you’re not going to believe me, but I was pretty reckless on that thing.”

“Oh, I believe you.”

You’re smiling again. 

“Well, one day, I was too reckless. I hit the brakes too abruptly and I skidded over gravel. I flew ten feet away from the bike and I tore my knee open. I got home covered in blood, my parents were furious.”

A vengeful smile curves your lips, one he’s never seen on your face.

“They confiscated the bike. My mother said it wasn’t ladylike, and my father said– I can’t remember his exact words, probably 'you can’t damage my property,’ or something along those lines. They never let me on a bike again after that.”

“How’s that a happy story?” he frowns.

“I didn’t say it was a happy story. I said it’s a good scar. I got to keep this one. It reminds me of what I’m capable of. Even when I want to forget.” 

The sun is rising. A new day colors the sky in vivid bronze. The light filters into the room through the yellow curtains, dust particles suspended in the air, suspended like Frankie’s life when he can’t be with you. 

He should leave, but instead, he’s going to fuck you one more time. Pump you full of his come. Brand you with his essence, mark you as his in the only way he can before he has to let you go back to face those people who put murder on his mind.

His hands skim along your thighs to the swell of your ass, roughly kneading the round of your cheeks. His grip settles on your hips, and he bucks up into you, ever so lightly, his length hardening between your lips. He sees it on your face, on your profile bathed in the first ray of sunlight. The moment when you register his intention. The shift in your body, the echo to his desire. So powerful, so immediate, it’s almost like black magic. Your mouth parts open, your back arches. You press down on him. 

“That serves him well, your father,” he says, sliding you slowly over his cock.

“How’s that?” you ask, voice laced with lust. 

“Look what you’re riding now.”

—

The pillow is damp underneath your back, sweat exuding from your every pore. The last days of March have been unforgiving. You find yourself longing for a room with a proper air conditioning system, instead of the motel’s weak, outdated fan that only swishes hot air. 

Frankie’s searing touch doesn’t help. Stroking the back of your arm in a repetitive up-and-down motion, he’s laying across the bed, his head resting heavy on your lap, his long hair curling in every direction in this sweltering atmosphere. 

Instead of shying away from the discomfort, you embrace it. With your fingers twined in his locks, you lean into his touch, focusing on his high forehead, and the crease in his brow. On his long eyelashes, the curve of his lips as he speaks, the working of his throat. 

Ignoring the dark blue rectangle of night sky, gradually lightening up behind the musty curtains.

Dawn used to be a deliverance. From your thoughts that the night painted black. From the wait, when Adrian wouldn’t come back. From a forced rest that never really came, another disappointment, another let down, another part of your life requiring the artificial help of chemicals. 

Now, you resent it. Dawn is when Frankie leaves you behind to go back to his family. Dawn is when he’s the happiest, with his child, without you, in a realm over which you have no grasp. 

A rational part of you acknowledges that it’s easier if he leaves before the sun rises. It prevents you from yearning for things you’re afraid to want. Things you cannot have. A life with him in broad daylight. A life without shame. 

Recently, he’s become increasingly reluctant to let go of you. Dawn finds him wrapped around your body. Last week, he stayed past daybreak, and fucked you in the sunlight. 

The brighter tone of his skin, the lighter shade of his curls, the depth of his mahogany irises hit by a sunbeam, everything was like a knife through your chest.

“Lee?”

The caressing timber of his husky voice brings you back to the soft amber light from the dusty lampshades, to the humming fan, and the blue rectangle. 

“I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

“I asked if you like it. Your job.” 

“God no, I hate it! Sales productivity statistics and accounting manager, can you picture me?”

He huffs his breathless chuckle, the one that sends tremors rippling through your chest. 

“Not really, no.”

“I’m terrible at it, and it’s a problem, but no one says anything because daddy runs the company. I don’t understand why he insists on maintaining me in this position. It’s like a power play. He needs me to be miserable.”

Frankie’s hand pauses, fingers digging into your flesh, and he cranes his neck to peer at your face. You give him a reassuring smile. A genuine one. 

“Is that what you studied at university? Accounting and statistics?”

You wipe your sweaty brow with the back of your hand, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Yes. But university was a golden parenthesis. I minored in Russian literature. Not a skill that easily translates to the employment market, but Richard was thoroughly pissed,” you say, wiggling your eyebrows. 

“My little punk.”

His smile is brighter than the midday sun. Your index finger darts to the dimple in his right cheek. 

“I really like this,” you whisper, your voice dropping, thick with heat and arousal. With affection. “And these,” you add, scraping your fingernail over the bare patches on each side of his jaw. 

“Mmh. I’ve noticed,” he says with a smug expression. 

“Oh, you have?” You try to laugh off your embarrassment, but what comes out is a quivering sound, betraying the want that hinders your throat. 

He grabs your hand and brings it to his mouth, closing his plush lips around your index finger, wrapping his tongue around it. Your belly quakes. You clench around nothing. 

He releases your hand, and you hope he’ll get up and move over you, but instead, he reaches for your arm again, resuming his rhythmic strokes. 

“So what would you do, if you didn’t do this?” he asks. 

You sigh, glancing up, and you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror above the desk. 

“I’ve no idea, really. I never allowed myself to consider the possibility.” And before he can prod any further, you add, “What about you? What would you have liked to do, if you hadn’t become a pilot?”

The diversion doesn’t fool him, you know it. You’re acutely aware of his gaze, scrutinizing your face. You picture the familiar, pensive frown. His hand leaves your arm as he suddenly gets up, air hitting your damp skin where his head was lying. 

A few strides, and he steps into the bathroom, disappearing behind the partition wall. The tap runs for a moment, and there’s the distinct sound of wrung out fabric before he comes out, holding the hand towel. 

You watch him walk back toward you, his naked body glistening with sweat, highlighted in shadows in the warm lighting. You think about how beautiful it is, about your extensive, intimate knowledge of it. How it feels under your touch, every single part of him. How this knowledge is now constituent of the woman you have become. 

You know the callousness of his palms that catches at your clothes. You know the silkiness of his curls around your fingers, the smoothness of his chest against your breasts, the taste of his mouth and the bobbing of his pebbled throat between your lips. The thicker skin of his shoulders, tanned and freckled. The coarseness of the darker hairs under his navel, and how they feel rubbing at your clit. You know the weight of his cock in your hand, on your tongue, inside your walls. 

And if you know all this, then, isn’t he yours? 

He circles the bed over to your side, by the window, and sits next to you. 

Delicately, his fingers circle your wrist. He lifts your arm, and brings your hand to his lips, nuzzling the relaxed curl of your fingers open, to press a kiss inside your palm. His eyes briefly flicker shut as he inhales the transparent skin of your inner wrist. 

Lowering your arm, he starts running the towel along it and you jolt at the contact of the cold, wet fabric, letting out a short whimpering sound.

The sensation is sudden, seizing like an electrical shock, but the relief is immediate. The coolness radiates on the surface of your feverish skin, soothing your thoughts. Eyes fluttering shut, you relax into it. 

“Maybe an architect,” he starts, the towel gliding up to your shoulder, “or a carpenter. Build stuff, for a change. Instead of destroying them.”

Goosebumps break out along your arms, on your nape, as he skims the towel over the plane of your chest in slow, meticulous movements. As he rounds your breasts with reverent care, one, then the other, your nipples tightening in peaked buds, the low rumble of his voice filling your mind, his words boring into your heart.

The towel brushes up, tracing your collarbone, left, then right. Higher along the column of your throat, curling to the side of your neck. A droplet of water rolls down between your breasts, running along your stomach to end its course into your navel. You sigh.

“I could… run a small business, building houses or crafting furniture. In a small town, somewhere up north. Somewhere with seasons,” he says. 

The towel wipes over your trembling belly, over your mound, down your inner thigh. He’s slow, precise, thorough. Careful and gentle with your limp limbs. You’re sinking into the mattress, and floating over it all at once. 

You lift a heavy eyelid, your dazed gaze landing on his gorgeous face. He’s solemn, focused on his task. 

He readjusts his position on the mattress, so lightly the bed barely moves, and twists his torso to reach down your leg. 

“You could be my accountant.”

Your eyes shoot open. He’s facing away from you, wiping the towel under the arch of your foot.

“The last thing you want is to have me as your bookkeeper,” you whisper, your heart beating in your throat. 

He turns around, looking straight at you. Soft sad eyes, cold hard stare. 

“That’s all I want for the rest of my life, Lee. Be with you night and day.”

—

Everything seems to hinge on you now. 

His balance, his happiness, his redemption.

You filled a void, a hollowness inside his chest, he carries you with him wherever he goes. A pale shade of yellow and celadon green. 

He tries to convince himself it’s harmless. That he’s not doing anything wrong. That it’s easier this way. Easier than the drugs, easier than placing that burden on his daughter’s shoulders. He tells himself the peace you bring him makes him a better man, and a better father. Makes him worthy again. There might even be some truth to it. 

He’s not so sure if he deserves the second chance. If he deserves the parts of you that you confide in him. Your past, your regrets, your secret victories. Your hindered aspirations and the shores of your inner island, within his reach. The touch of your cool skin. The strength of your embrace. The veneration in your eyes. Your trust, your faith. Your time. 

But he wants to believe it. It’s more of a fundamental need, really. 

And as long as he’s with you, the illusion holds. When you’re sitting next to him in the truck, singing along to the tunes playing on the old crackling stereo as he drives to nowhere, when his body’s wrapped around yours in the dark, when he murmurs against your temple everything and anything that runs through his mind, when you’re coming undone between his hold, with his name on your lips. He believes he can be as good for you as you are for him. 

But it’s a thin fabric. One that tears the very minute he steps outside the room, leaving your sleepy form tucked under the starchy sheet. 

Day after day, until the next week, he’s left on his own to fence off the thoughts that plague him. 

The voice inside him, relentless, somber, asking how much longer this can last. How long before the consequences on your life are irreversible? How long until that man who’s not your husband finds out, and takes action? What repercussions would you face, then? 

He knows what he’d be capable of if he ever met him. He doesn’t like to think about it. 

You won’t open up about your life with him, no matter how much he prods and pry. He knows your strength. And he chose to trust it.

Seven months, and one week. He sat down with the cardboard calendar hanging above Lupe’s desk at work, and counted. His mind crowded, overflowing with what ifs. 

What if he took you out of this shitty motel, for once? Not just to drive into the night, but on a proper date. Dinner. A movie. Fucking lunch. A weekend somewhere. An entire vacation. 

What if he took you out of your life? 

Lupe started dating this Marcus guy back in December. Now she’s staying at his place every other night. The man is decent, one of the best paramedics he’s worked with, honest, reliable and steadfast. The kind of man Lupe deserves, and that he doesn’t mind around Lua. 

He should move out of the house. Lupe hasn’t said anything yet, but it’s just one more grace she gives him that he hasn’t earned. Every time they see each other, Will hints at it, the allusions becoming increasingly less subtle. 

The truth is, he sees no point in moving forward with his life if it’s not with you. If it’s not to take care of you, and provide for you. Watch you thrive, keep you safe.  

A couple of weeks back, when he’d first thought about it, he’d deemed the idea crazy, painfully aware of all the frustrations a couple’s daily life entails. 

Now, it’s the only choice that makes any sense to him. 

—

The airport terminal is bustling with flocks of tourists. Noisy families with children too young to travel, transient businessmen and women, groups of youths of dubious soberness flying out after spring break. 

Ava stands out in the crowd, her tall frame topped with a short bob of bright purple hair, and you spot her immediately. Standing on your tiptoes, you wave at her until she sees you and starts running in your direction.

She all but leaps into your open arms, and you both grab at each other, leaning into the embrace, laughing. You inhale her scent, searching for that baby smell in the crook of her neck.

“Oh my god, pup, your hair!” you exclaim. “You look terrific!”

“Yeah? You like it?” she asks with a broad smile, running her fingers through her locks. 

“I love it! It’s perfect for you!”

In turn, she takes you in, looking you up and down, and lets out a low whistling sound.

“You look good, too. You look better than good. You look gorgeous!”

“Oh shush,” you gesture bashfully, but you can’t hold back your own smile.

The two of you walk to the parking lot to retrieve your car, immersed in bubbly conversation, oblivious to the moving crowds around you.

Driving out of the airport, you glance at the sign indicating the 589 northbound and smile at your precious secret, before making a left turn south.

“Where are you taking me?” she asks, “I’m hungry! Feed me! Feedmefeedmefeedme!” she chants, before breaking into a high-pitched giggle.

“Alright, alright! Hold tight, I’m taking you somewhere special. Do you like burritos?”

“Who doesn’t like burritos? Wait, what? Burritos? Do you even eat burritos? Who are you and what have you done with my sister?”

You had to type the address from the crumpled receipt into your GPS. Until today, you’ve never allowed yourself to go there. Not on your own.

It’s a small cantina with tiled walls and concrete floors, colorful trinkets arranged in pyramidal displays behind the counter, chalkboard menus and an endless list of drinks. Star-shaped lanterns are hanging from the ceiling, and the staff is busy but jovial.

Lunchtime on a Saturday, the place is packed with couples and kids, and your pulse accelerates. You hadn’t considered the possibility of running into Frankie and his family. 

You place your orders, and after a short wait, you secure a spot in the back of the restaurant. Sitting on high metal stools behind a round table, you catch up on the past three months as if you hadn’t texted every other day, speaking with your mouths full, sauce dripping down your fingers.

The life she’s built for herself in New York treats Ava better than anything you could have hoped for, anything you could have helped her achieve, had she stayed here. A job in a cutting-edge art gallery, where her vibrant personality and her flair for networking are not only recognized but valued, a bustling social life, more thrilling projects than you can keep track of, all of it balanced by Polly’s grounding presence by her side. 

Your choices and sacrifices, justified.

Ava puts down the crumbling remnants of her vegetarian burrito to wipe her mouth, and takes a sip of her margarita.

“You sure you don’t want to drink anything?”

“I’m drinking something,” you answer, pointing at your iced tea.

“Whatever you say, girl,” she shrugs.

“It’s too bad you’re not staying with me. It’s idiotic, you’re only here for a couple of days and you have to sleep over at Jules’.”

“Listen, even if your douchebag of a fiancé had agreed to have me, which I know he didn’t, I don’t want to see his ass face.”

“Alright,” you concede, “valid.”

She nearly chokes on her margarita. Setting her glass down, she gives you a pointed stare, emphatically scrutinizing your face.

“Okay, seriously, what’s going on with you? How are you? I mean, that’s obviously the wrong question, you’re fucking thriving. What happened? What’s happening? New medication? Are you finally leaving him?”

“I’m not taking any medication,” you answer with unexpected satisfaction. “But no, I’m not leaving him.”

You catch yourself before you can add another word. 

“Are you still seeing that other guy?”

You nod, dipping your head, heat creeping up your neck. Why are you like this?

“I take it he likes burritos, am I right?

“You are correct in your assumption, detective,” you quip with a grin.

There’s a pause as Ava seems to consider her next question. It’s always so easy for you to forget that she’s a grownup now. That she knows you at least as well as you know her. That she has the capacity to outsmart you. The notion flares pride in your chest.

“Is he married? Is that why you haven’t run off together in the sunset yet?”

“I’m not sure if he’s married or not.”

“What does he do in life?”

“I don’t know.”

Ava throws up her hands. 

“Girl! What do you know?” she exclaims with only half-feigned exasperation.

I know what’s important. He’s a father. He’s a friend and a brother. A pilot and a veteran. He's thoughtful and observant. He’s organized and practical. And a reluctant sentimental. He learned to swim in the Pacific Ocean. He’s capable of cold-blooded violence, but it will break him. He’s capable of infinite tenderness. And it will save him. 

You pull a face, communicating how little you care about what you don’t know. Your sister shifts on the hard stool. She frowns, and when she speaks next, her voice is low, her tone conspiratorial.  

“Adrian doesn’t suspect anything?”

“Of course, he does. Or he did. His attention is elsewhere, for now. Seems serious.”

“Again?”

“Again,” you nod. 

Ava squirms on her stool again, probably trying to restrain her temper. 

Your mind wanders, jumping back through time at light-speed, to when you first met Adrian. To the way he used to hold your hand when you started dating, squeezing your fingers with his. Letting you choose the wine, opening doors for you. To the affection in his smile, and how fast he started calling you babe . The glimmer warming his cold blue eyes when he introduced you to his family. The way he leaves the bathroom mirror splattered in toothpaste every time he brushes his teeth. The way he lets his alarm ring off forever after he’s gotten up even if you’re still in bed, even on weekends. 

The ease with which he admitted to all his flings, whenever you confronted him, but never confessed to the one with his coworker, the ambitious young lawyer. 

Would you admit to having an affair? Would you use that ugly word that make you crawl out of your skin? Would you deny it? Could you answer No, I’m not seeing anyone? Could you bear the betrayal of denying Frankie’s existence? The truth of what you share, but can’t define?

“Your fiancé is a bag of dicks,” Ava finally says, shaking her head. 

“His obliviousness suits me for now,” you remind her.  

“I don’t understand why you don’t leave him,” she snaps back, forsaking her reserve. “He got his big promotion, he got what he wanted! And Richard loves him, it’s not like he’s going to fire him just because you two broke up, right? You don’t really love him anymore, do you?” she adds on second thoughts.  

The words spill out of you unchecked, once more. Just like in the truck with Frankie, back in January. Months, years for the idea to mature below the surface of your conscious thoughts, the reflective process unbeknown to you. 

“I’m scared, Ava. I’m scared shitless. I want to leave. I’ve been wanting to leave for so long. Adrian, the company, that fucking ugly apartment.” 

“Well then fucking do it, Lee!”

“If I leave, I have nothing. No job, nowhere to go.” 

And if you could give up a relatively comfortable life, would you be able to renounce the refuge of your sadness? Of your life between the folds? 

“You have money,” Ava counters. “You have shares. Sell them. Richard can’t stop you. Get a lawyer, if you have to. One that’s not on Adrian’s payroll. And then you can fuck your man Friday every day of the week, how’s that?”

You think about the folded bedspread under the windowsill. About the wet hand towel brushing up your skin. The trucker hat on the desk, and his fingers splayed on the steering wheel. The pleading arch of his brow. 

You think about that space between Frankie’s chin and collarbone, that contains your safety, your desires, and all of your hopes.

“I don’t… I don’t know if I should leave a man for another one,” you whisper. 

Ava’s eyes widen. She sits up straight, a smirk tugging the corner of her lips. 

“I don’t know either, but it looks like this one fucked some sense into you. The irony.” 

She’s withholding something, you realize. It’s in her uncharacteristic pauses, her sideways glances. Surprisingly, human interactions were simpler when pills kept you numbed and oblivious. Being attuned to everyone’s minute expressions is a daily trial. 

“Why don’t you move to New York with us?” she eventually asks. “We can take you in until you find a job there, for as long as you need.”

There’s that we again. People talking about you in your absence, judging your choices, plotting your future. 

“I don’t know how to do anything, Ava. I have zero skills.” 

“First off, that’s not true,” she retorts, relentless with her well-rehearsed arguments. “And then, Polly can help you find something. Lee, if you can leave this company, there’s literally nothing you can’t do.”

Suddenly, you feel exhausted. Weary and old. A bone-deep lassitude. And at the heart of it, the realization that this is a liminal sequence in your life. 

“Is that why you flew here for the weekend? To ask me to come away with you?”

“Are you mad?” she asks with a face. A little girl’s expression, afraid of being scolded. Your little girl. 

“No, I’m not mad, pup. I can’t be mad. You came back for me.”

“Of course, I came back for you. I was never going to leave you behind, silly.”

****

[ghostofaboy]

Contentment

Summary: Frankie is bored with the movie Benny is watching and distracts himself.

Pairing: Frankie Morales/Benny Miller Rating: Explicit | Word count: 430

Warnings: Cock warming, oral sex, elements of Dom/sub

Note: This has not been beta read, so apologies for any mistakes. This was a request from anon as part of my 200 Follower Celebration. Divider by @saradika-graphics

The movie didn’t interest him. Its plot was painfully generic, the dialogue ridiculous and the character horribly two-dimensional. Slouched on the couch, Frankie rolled his eyes. He couldn’t understand why Benny like this shit, but when he glanced over, he could see the younger man with his eyes fixed on the screen. He was clearly loving it. 

Scooting a little closer, Frankie leaned down to rest his head on Benny’s shoulder, smiling as the other man sighed happily. Reaching over slowly, Frankie lay his hand on Benny’s thigh, feeling the heat of his skin through the thin material of his khaki pants. And for a few moments Frankie was content to rest like that, slowly rubbing thumb along Benny’s thigh.

But eventually Frankie began to get bored again, and his eye line drifted from the terrible movie to Benny’s crotch. It would be so easy to open his fly and pull out his cock. Frankie’s own dick twitched awake in his jeans, and his mouth practically watered with anticipation at the though.

In one smooth movement, Frankie lowered himself down until his head was almost resting on Benny’s lap and began to tug open the zipper. Then, teasing the fabric open, Frankie gently pulled out Benny’s flaccid length.

“What are you up to?” Benny’s voice rumbled above him, clearly amusement and intrigued.

“Movie’s shit.” Frankie muttered, before leaning forward and engulfing Benny’s soft cock in his mouth.

Resting his head properly on Benny’s lap, Frankie settled as he felt the heavy weight of the other man’s dick filling his mouth. Benny’s girth stretched Frankie’s lips as he worked the flaccid length into his mouth until the head nudged the back of his throat. Even soft Benny’s dick was impressive, pushing Frankie’s tongue flat against the floor of his mouth. His own cock was erect now at the thought of Benny getting hard in his mouth, warm in his throat, slightly choking him

“Well, I'm gonna keep watching it.” Benny ran his fingers through Frankie’s curls. “So you be a good boy and keep my dick warm until it’s done.”

Frankie couldn’t answer. He didn’t need or want to. Letting his eyes flutter close while Benny continued to pet his hair. Time lost all meaning and the movie faded into the background as Benny grew in his mouth. The fingers in his hair and Benny’s gentle words of praise were all that kept Frankie tethering to reality.

“You’re doing so well Fish.” Benny soothed, even as Frankie made muffled whining noises around his thick cock. “Almost finished, then I’ll fuck you.”

[gosmigenergy]

JUST DESSERTS

( Triple Frontier Boys x F!Reader )

Summary: Frankie and Santiago decide to host a Valentine’s dinner however you’re already a little suspicious of what they have planned.

Rating: Mature 18+

Warnings: Language, mentions of food, mentions of alcohol, swearing, minor angst because Santiago’s an idiot, sex pollen, group sex, oral - female receiving, P in V, unprotected sex (use protection irl please), cream pie, voyeurism, choking, nipple play, oral - male receiving, hair pulling, spit roasting, gagging, squirting, allusions of masturbation (male), fluffy ending, nickname/pet names, no use of Y/N.

Word Count: 8.4k

Author's Notes: Just for a little context, here's the fic this one's related to.

You had spent all afternoon watching from a distance.

Frankie preferred you to be out of the kitchen when he was prepping a three course meal for multiple people, saying you were too much of a distraction. Reluctantly, you stayed out of his way and tried to keep yourself busy.

You heard his hushed profanity.

“You ok, babe?”

He was stuffing his phone into his pocket when you approached.

“I forgot an ingredient.”

Your head cocks to one side, brows furrowing. It was unusual, he was so methodical when it came to cooking, he’d never forgotten an ingredient since you’d started dating. Maybe it was Valentine’s Day nerves or because he was in someone else’s kitchen, you had to ask him why they chose Will’s place.

“I can go get it for you.”

“It’s ok, I’ve already messaged Pope.”

The pair of them had planned this evening together because you couldn’t quite book a table for five at a fancy restaurant on the day of love without being questioned. Not to mention the extortionate price rises, the candle lit table where you can barely see and the knowledge you would sit throughout dinner with four sets of eyes on you, all wanting the same thing.

“Soooo,” you bite your lip, “what do you want to do now?”

Leaning back, he folded his arms, eyes trailing you from head to toe. A shiver shot up your spine as his stare hung low, his tongue flicking over his lips and Frankie knew he had just enough time to do what he wanted to do.

When Santiago knocked on the door, it took a few minutes to get an answer.

He was just about to knock again when it swung open and revealed you, flustered and glancing down, he noticed your lack of pants. His one eyebrow quirked and a slight smirk came to his lips.

“Sorry to interrupt.”

“You didn’t interrupt anything,” Frankie entered the living room. “I made sure she finished.”

The temperature in your cheeks rose to scorching, in all of your dating history, you’d never been caught and of course, it has to be Santiago who catches you after a thorough fingering. He’s fucking delighted.

You walk away from him before he can utter a word.

“He wouldn’t let me answer the door until I came,” you say, taking your shorts from Frankie.

“Gotta make sure you’re satisfied.”

A hand snakes around your back and he pulls you closer, squeezing the plumpness of your ass. You cup his whiskered jaw and place a kiss on his cheek before kissing him lightly on the lips, his fingers burying further.

“I’m just gonna clean up.”

“You’re welcome to stay like that,” Santiago chips in.

“I thought you were helping Frankie in the kitchen.”

You saunter away, purposefully not putting on your shorts just to rub it in his face a little.

“I hate you,” he turns to Frankie.

Frankie blinks at him, “You got the stuff.”

The pair of them go into the kitchen, ensuring they’re out of the way from prying eyes and Santiago pulls a tiny brown bag out of his pocket. Frankie snatched it from his hand and eased out the bottle, it looked like any other baking ingredient in a pipet bottle except it was fluorescent pink in colour.

“I still think we should tell her,” he said, bringing it closer for inspection.

“She’ll be fine.”

Frankie went to the fridge and brought the rest of the ingredients to the counter top.

“Ruby chocolate?”

“It’s fruity and should conceal the colour of that stuff.”

Santiago patted his friend on the back, “I knew I could trust you.”

Once you’d finished in the shower, you went to check on the pair of them in the kitchen. Santiago wasn’t being much help, merely standing there and talking whilst Frankie gently folded a pink concoction in a bowl. As you stepped closer, you caught the chocolate wrapper and knew you had to sneak a taste, slipping past Santiago.

Frankie clocked the single finger approaching and slapped your hand hard.

“Ow!”

He immediately put everything down and wrapped himself around you.

“I’m sorry, cariño, I’ve only made enough mousse for the five of us, no samples.”

You look up at him, your pouted lip beginning to quiver, tears forming at the corner of your eyes. It actually really fucking hurt but only Frankie knows why he had such a reaction and Santiago probably, you could only assume.

He brought your hand to his lips and kissed it better.

“There’s some chocolate spare in the fridge,” he glanced at Santiago as he spoke.

Santiago headed to the fridge and back, handing you the other unopened bar before boosting you onto the countertop next to where Frankie was working. You eased the paper packaging apart at the top and cracked the first line, breaking a square off.

“You got any questions about tonight?”

Santiago leaned in, opening his mouth slightly and you fed him the piece of chocolate in your hand.

There was only one question you could think of.

—

“Why are they hosting it at your place?” Benny asked his brother.

“Because I’ve got a big enough dining table.”

In all honesty, Will didn’t know if that was their reasoning, he was confused when they asked him too.

“They could have hosted it here.”

“With what table?”

Benny shrugged, “I could have got something.”

His brother was still living like a bachelor, no table just two stools on a breakfast bar, no spare bedroom or fold out couch, he shook his head. When Frankie arrived at his place with bags of ingredients, Will saw it best to get out of the way and offered to come and get Benny, who was trying to figure out what to wear.

“Don’t you have a dress shirt?”

Will watched on as Benny rifled through his wardrobe.

“Do I look like I would have a dress shirt? The moment I stopped doing parades, I got rid of ‘em.”

He would have offered him one if it wasn’t for the fact Benny’s lean physique would be swamped by his. There was already a pile of rejections on the floor including the one denim shirt he owned and the one that Benny had named his good hoodie.

“Who’s idea was it to dress up anyway?”

“Who do you think?”

“Ah, the man with a thousand black shirts.”

Will laughed, “Even Fish has a nice shirt, brother.”

“The coke one?”

Will folded his arms, brows knotting. Benny looked innocently over his shoulder, throwing his hands out.

“You know which one I mean.”

Narrowing his eyes, Will notices the stuffed shelves to the side of his brother and can make out two green sweaters amongst all the greys and blues.

“What about the green sweaters?”

Benny stepped to the side and pulled them out.

“Bunny likes this one.”

He held it up the forest green one and Will was about to say it would pass until he turned it round.

“Is that a cartoon character?”

Benny scowled at him, “It’s a video game character.”

“You never fail to surprise me,” Will pinched the bridge of his nose, “and the other one?”

Tossing another rejection to one side, Benny unfolded the other one, a lightweight knit with a v-neck and emerald green in colour. He’s pretty sure this was one his mother gave him, he wore it once or twice to please her and then pretended he’d lost it over Thanksgiving. He just hated wearing anything other than gym wear, jeans and a t-shirt.

Will was going to have to take him shopping.

“That’ll do.”

—

You’d finished getting ready just as the sound of keys entering the door. Tottering over, you grabbed the door handle and opened it before Will had chance to get it himself.

“You look as lovely as ever, Bunny.”

You brush the front of your pink and purple slip dress, turning round to show him the back, you’d even wore kitten heels for the occasion.

He hands you a bag whilst he takes another, “The Prosecco you like was on offer.”

“Oh, thank you,” you kiss his cheek and leave a mark.

Benny bashfully came in after his brother.

“Aw, Benny, that sweater brings out the colour of your eyes.”

His cheeks turned pink, this was the first time you’d seen him relatively dressed up.

“I told him that but he wasn’t impressed,” Will called from behind you.

You take his sweater by both hands and pull his body to yours, crashing your lips to his. Instinctively, he brings an arm to your waist to stop you from falling backwards as your frame arches.

“Thanks for dressing up for me,” you say after parting your lips, “I know you hate it.”

“If that’s the reaction I get, I might do it more often.”

A pop of a cork filled the room and Frankie was the first to complain.

“Christ, you could have given me a warning,” he said, the food he was tentatively placing on a finely toasted slice of bread now sprayed across the plate.

Santiago came out of the dining room to see what all the fuss was about and then ushered the three of you away from Frankie. He sat you at the top of the table with the Miller brothers either side before he switched on some background music and left to help Frankie serve.

“Can we have more light?”

“Honey, this is meant to be romantic.”

You hum, “Would be nice to see everyone’s faces.”

You had resisted saying anything for two courses, it only seemed right to see them for dessert. Frankie pulled out all the stops on food, to start was freshly made Bruschetta then he followed it with the first ever meal he cooked for you, steak with dauphinoise potatoes and greens. With everyone’s plates clear, he went to dish up dessert.

Santiago grumbled and turned the dial up a little, bringing a warm glow into the room.

“That’s better,” you smile even as he stares you down.

Frankie comes in with the first two plates, placing one in front of you. The pink mousse he was creating earlier was delivered with a handful of berries on the side.

“I’ve waited all afternoon to try this!”

You waited, fidgeting for the rest of the boys to get theirs with a spoon in your hand. The moment Frankie put his ass in his seat, you took the biggest portion you could.

“This is so good,” Benny said, continuing to stuff the mousse into his mouth.

It was good, you weren’t going to deny that. It was velvety smooth, the ruby chocolate adding a touch of fruitiness along with the berries but there was something else. You began to eat slowly, eyebrows knotted as you tried to decipher what it was.

Everyone kept eating before Will spoke up, scraping the last of it from his ramekin bowl.

“What was that floral flavour?”

That wasn’t quite it but you knew he was close.

“Special ingredient,” Santiago responded quickly.

Frankie sighed, “We’re gonna have to tell them eventually.”

“Tell us what?”

Benny was using his finger to scoop out what remnants he could, eyes flitting from Santiago to Frankie.

“Sooo, it’s not rose?”

Will’s query suddenly makes you feel queasy, unable to eat the last couple of spoonfuls so you place your cutlery down.

Santiago clocks it.

“No,” he says, folding his arms. “It’s Aphrodite’s Essence.”

Will looks at Santiago and Frankie before his brother, who sheepishly avoids eye contact.

A swell builds in your chest, the name is all too familiar and you don’t know whether to scream or cry or both. Instead, you bundle the cotton napkin from your lap in your hand and throw back your chair.

“You’re such a fucking dick, Santiago.”

You launch the napkin, hitting him square in the face as you flee from the room.

He calls your name but you ignore him, already bolting for the bedroom, swinging the door heavily. The slam echoes through the hall and Santiago goes to get up. Will gestures a hand for him to stop and he follows the order like any good soldier would.

“Give her a few minutes,” his eyes glanced to everyone again. “And you can tell me what the fuck is going on.

—

Santiago was hesitant to go in, he didn’t quite know what was behind the door. The four of them had talked it out, Will was pissed with every single one of them for a fleeting moment. Benny and Santiago almost ended up in a shouting match whilst Frankie remained quiet until he decided to step in and shut them up.

“Sure you don’t want to do this?”

He looked over his shoulder at Will who shook his head, he was always shaking his head at one of them.

“It’s gotta be you, man.”

His friend was right, Santiago just hated it.

Taking a breath, he rapped the door but you didn’t respond. He takes it as a good sign and squeezes past the threshold as he opens the door enough to fit through.

“Hey.”

You’re sat up, back against the headboard of the bed, arms wrapped tightly around the teddy Will won you. In the darkness, he could just about make out your teary eyes and he switched on the nearest the nearest lamp to give off some light.

You sniff, “Hey.”

He sits at your feet and you move them back.

“Honey, I’m sorry.”

“The last time we saw each other, you wanted to slow down on all of this shit then you go and —“

You lose your words, you’re so mad at him.

“I know, it’s bad timing on my part.”

You look away, pushing your cheek into the soft fabric underneath.

This wasn’t bad timing, he’d made an idiotic decision to get revenge on Benny and thrown everyone else into the mix with them.

“You remember how scary it was for me, I thought I was going to die.”

“But you didn’t, Fish and I made sure of that.”

“It doesn’t mean I want to go through it again.”

“It’s about ten percent of what you had last time, fifteen tops. We added a little extra just to make sure it works.”

“Couldn’t you have just laced Benny’s?”

“Would you want to be around Benny with that stuff in his system and without any in yours?”

“No,” you hugged the teddy closer. “You could have made him go it alone.”

“I’m mean but I’m not that mean.”

“You could have warned me,” your voice was timid.

He rested a hand on your foot, his thumb stroking your ankle. You were right, Frankie was right but he wouldn’t admit he was wrong.

“Would you have eaten it if you knew?”

You breathe in, the stutter in your chest that you only get from crying. Dropping a hand, you hold onto his thumb, eyes returning to him.

“I guess not.”

He hummed, he guessed as such.

“We’ve got to make sure we all have a level playing field,” he handed you the last of your dessert. “I had to fight Benny before he had the rest.”

Your smile peeks from behind the green dome head and you let go of his thumb, taking the dish. You eat the final spoonfuls and hand it back.

“How long till it kicks in?”

“Somewhere between thirty minutes to an hour.”

“So I have time to fix my makeup?”

He double checks his watch, “Plenty.”

Santiago continued to draw circles on your ankle, listening to your breathing as it steadied into its usual pace.

“Am I forgiven?”

“We’ll see how the night goes.”

He slips off the bed and onto his feet, leaning forward to brush his nose against the crown of your head.

“We’ve got you,” he said, planting a kiss on your forehead.

You wait until he leaves the room to sort yourself out. In the bright light of the bathroom, you catch a glimpse of how messy you looked, mostly from the mascara trailing down your cheeks like rainfall. Wiping it away, you reapply everything and fix your hair, rearranging your tits under your dress.

“Need any help?”

After hearing the hive of activity in the kitchen, you popped your head through to the dining room.

“All good, sweetheart.”

Will was alone, carefully stacking dinnerware and blowing out candles. You step further in, playing with your hands.

“I kind of ruined dinner, didn’t I?"

“Hardly.”

Santiago ruined dinner, you merely reacted how most people would having found out their food had been laced. He was surprised he’d taken it so well himself.

You hovered nervously, waiting for his attention.

Leaving the plates on the table, he wanders over to you and coils an arm around your frame, pulling you close. His touch is hotter than usual, palm scorching through the slip dress you wore and you try to figure out how long you’d been gone from the room.

“Can I fix you a drink?”

You smile, “Please.”

He took everything in his hands and told you to head to the lounge. Following him, you part ways and you perch on the couch.

You recognised the similarities of last time beginning to trickle through your system. The elevation in your heartbeat, the rise of temperature in your skin that felt as though you were basking in the afternoon sun. It felt like your lips were getting plumper, your eyes growing bigger, the colours of the room becoming vibrant.

“Benny’s insisting whatever this is isn’t working,” Will chuckled. “Fish is fighting with him to not put a couple more drops straight into his mouth.”

“And what do you think?”

You take the glass from his hand and scoot to the side to allow him space next to you. Taking a sip, every bubble pops along your tastebuds, the flavour sinking in deep.

He shrugs, “I don’t know, what am I supposed to be looking for?”

Leaning back, his eyes roam over your body, noticing how you seem to be glowing. Each inch of bare skin he looks at tingles and you wonder if this is how it starts when you take a normal dose. He stretches his hand, fingertips skimming over your shoulder blades and the shiver travels down your spine, pulsating in your pussy. Something travels from you to him, electricity shooting up his arm and his face turns serious.

“On the table.”

You cock your head to the side, “The coffee table?”

“Front on the coffee table, ass facing me.”

“You sure?”

His one eyebrow arches and he folds his arms, tipping his head towards the table quickly.

You swallow, mouth drying as you listen to his instruction. Slipping effortlessly off the couch, you crawl to the coffee table and move a few items out of the way before you drape onto the cold glass top. Glancing over your shoulder, you see his glazed stare, Aphrodite’s Essence soaking into every fibre of his being.

You knew you were in trouble when his hands reached for his belt.

Your desire was already pooling, the nice underwear set you wore an afterthought as you leaned to show your ass to him.

Will glanced to where the other guys were talking before lifting himself up and dropping to his knees. He tapped your ankles and you spread yourself wider. Grabbing the hem of your dress, he lifted it over the curve of your ass, displaying the dark patch already present on your knickers.

“You shouldn’t have worried about the underwear.”

You frown, looking further over your shoulder.

“Didn’t expect to already be this turned on, thought you would like them.”

“Any other night I would.”

You gasp as he cups a hand over your pussy, pushing against your mound and forcing the bottom half into your wet folds. Whining, you lean to his touch, back bowing. The noises you make cause his cock to harden, already straining against the fabric of his pants.

“Fuck,” he growls, hungrily yanking down your knickers.

He parts your ass cheeks to gaze upon your glistening folds, arousal weeping from your entrance. You breath shudders in anticipation as you break eye contact and face the dark television screen.

You watch as he stares longingly before shuffling back and lowering himself, his broad shoulders visible either side.

He flattens his tongue to your folds and licks up slowly. The mewl you gift him is intoxicating, how your body shakes only sweetening it. Your juices already dribble onto his chin, every moan he gives scattering through your nerves.

Unlike last time, the sensation isn’t as intense, instead it softly spreads a warmth through your body, like the tingle you get from coming in from the cold.

Will continued to eat your pussy, tongue slipping between your lips and teasing your inner walls. Then he tilted his head back and moved forward, mouth locking around your clit. It came alive, your legs threatening to lock if he hadn’t forced you to widen, hands gripping harder.

The sweat was arriving to his forehead, his head cloudy as you engulfed him.

You try to hold onto the table top, clammy palms slipping on the glass as you stretch your fingertips in front. Yet, he fights you, continuously pulling you back until you managed to break free.

“Where are you going, Bunny?”

Turning your upper half, you see his dishevelled appearance, messy blond hair and bright red cheeks.

“Nowhere,” you bat your eyelashes, tongue flicking to dampen your lips.

A smile grows on his face, “Good.”

He unbuttoned his shirt, chest heaving as he scrambled to get the fabric from his skin. Standing up, he stripped down to nothing, eyes not moving from you.

Everyone else remained in the kitchen, talking, unaware of the situation enfolding on the opposite side of the wall.

Kneeling down, Will kissed your lips and brought his weight down on you, pining you to the table top. His hardened cock pushed into the valley of your ass, nestling sweetly between your cheeks. You moan, inviting him to shove his tongue into your mouth and meet your own.

His hands trail up your thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he carried on up your body and over your stomach, hitching your dress higher.

Sinking his teeth into your bottom lip, he tugs gently before releasing it and nuzzling into your neck. His whiskers scratch your skin as he suckles and the essence in your system screams desperately to be covered head to toe in his marks.

You nudge your ass into him, grinding against his stiff length as your want becomes too much.

Groaning, he snakes a hand between the pair of you and takes hold of his cock. He brushes the tip over your asshole, causing you to shiver before he gathers the juices pooling at your opening.

You have little time to prepare yourself as Will ploughs through your folds and fills you to the hilt. It took the air from your lungs, your arms slipping on the smooth material beneath you. He brings his hands to your shoulders, chest firmly set on your back as he squeezes you, pressing you firmly to the base of his cock.

He waits to see your fingers grip the edge of the coffee table, knuckles almost turning white before he pulls easily through your slick and slams into you again and again. Each one of his overwhelmed senses was only able to focus on you. The final hint of your perfume as the aroma of each other’s sweat hit his nostrils, your frantic cries as you begged for more, your wrecked appearance reflected in the tv.

In the stifling heat of your bodies, you could only think of his cock.

How it glided and buried itself within your walls which pulsed as they attempted to take hold of his length, how every stroke hit the multiplying number of sweet spots in your weeping cunt. It was becoming almost unbearable, you just needed to cum.

“Will,” there was a sense of urgency in your tone.

His breath burns your neck, “I promise I’m close.”

You whine, toes curling as the desire is fit to burst in your belly.

He let go of one shoulder and brought his arm just below your neck, holding you to his chest. His other hand moves downwards, stroking your side with a featherlight touch that has your body vibrating in anticipation. Tucking it underneath, he pulls back the hood of your clit before pressing a fingertip to the bundle of nerves.

His arm locks around your neck as you begin to squirm.

Words fail you, nothing coming out of your mouth but tiny squeaks and the sound of you choking to get air into your lungs. Your eyes are shut tight, the inside of your lids decorated with pinpricks of white and pink.

He takes a few more thrusts until he can no longer force his way through your closing walls. He holds you as close as he can as you stop fighting and your hands cling onto his arm, the orgasm surging through you. Your pussy throbs until you milk him dry, his rasp hot in your ear as your bodies mould into one.

When you catch your breath, the adrenaline pumping through your veins approaches your chest and dispels into giggling.

“Shiiit…”

The laughter was contagious, Will’s chest rumbling against your back before he lifted himself from you. His cock draws out of you as he rests onto his heels and he watches you push his thick white cum from your opening, the audible churn as it dribbled out.

“Is this what happened last time?”

“Sort of,” you look over your shoulder, “except this is much more fun.”

His still stiff length twitched at your words and his cheeks went even redder.

“I’m gonna get some water, want anything?”

You pick yourself up, legs shaking and your dress falls over your frame covering the evidence, if you ignored that he was completely nude.

“I’m good,” you say, closing the space between you.

Leaning in, you kiss him, the flavour of your juices soaking into your lips. When he pulls away, he winks and retreats to the kitchen. 

Inside the others had carried on talking, Santiago on drying duties whilst Benny cleaned. Frankie clocked him first, eyes darting over Will’s post sex image and he stepped aside to allow him entry to the sink. Will grabbed whatever glass he could and knocked his brother out of the way, immediately switching on the tap.

“What the fuck?” Benny couldn’t quite believe his eyes.

Santiago leaned against the counter top and admired the view as Will chugged before going in for another.

“You ok?”

“Fucking fantastic, brother,” Will smiled at Santiago.

“See, Benny, it is working.”

Benny rolled his eyes, “My brother’s hard on is not proof that it’s working.”

Santiago didn’t know what other proof he could give, he shrugged, opening up his hands in disbelief.

“Will’s got a hard on, I’ve got a hard on and Fish—”

Abruptly, he stopped talking when he realised Frankie wasn’t even in the room any more. He ran his hand over his mouth, fingers tugging gently on his bottom lip as he thought about his next move.

“Come on,” he strode to the door.

Benny threw the sponge into the sink and followed him, Will stayed put, downing water to rehydrate himself. In the lounge, the other two were greeted by a euphoric sight.

Frankie had already made himself comfortable with his shirt unbuttoned, jeans and underwear pulled down his thighs and sat on the one armchair. You were sat on his lap, legs tucked either side of his as you sat with your ass to him, now fully naked. Slowly, you lifted yourself up and down his shaft, sweet and delicate grunts falling from your lips.

One of his broad hands was on your hip, fingers deep into the flesh as he guided you gently, the other at your neck, shaping your back into a perfectly formed arch. You tilted your head to look at him, eyelids heavy as the cock drunkenness begins to set in and his blown eyes reflect back at you.

“Looks like we have an audience,” he drawls.

Your eyes break away from his so you can catch a glimpse at who’s watching, through the fog of the essence you can tell it’s Benny and Santiago. A sharp sting comes across an ass cheek and you yelp, attention returning to Frankie.

“Feeling it?”

Benny took the question as rhetorical, of course he was feeling it now. His cock grew in a matter of seconds, the bulge visibly drawing the tension in his pants and Santiago tried not to look at it. 

Instead, he starts to unbutton his shirt, walking towards you and Frankie hungrily. He places a single finger on your knee and follows your form, a delicate touch over every curve before he takes his thumb and squeezes your nipple.

You bite your lip to stop the moan from coming, a slight stutter in the movements of your hips.

Santiago steps forward and looks down on you, beads of sweat on your hairline and flushed cheeks - god he loved you like this.

“How’s it going, Bunny?”

You gasp for air, “Good.”

His head tilts to one side, eyes flicking to Frankie.

“Just good? I’m sure Francisco and Will are better than that.”

Frankie’s fingers constricted around your neck causing your inner walls to pulse, more juices to flow down his length.

“They are,” you plead with them. “They’re so fucking good.”

Santiago could forgive you, words never came easily when you were overstimulated. Your hips had stopped moving and you sat heavily on Frankie’s length, your hand wrapping around his wrist as he loosened his hold on your neck.

He looked at his friend, “Can I join you?”

Your heart skipped a beat when you saw the way their eyes met.

Frankie removed his hands from you and you straightened you back, eyes following Santiago as he repositioned himself in front of the pair of you. Your hips had begun rolling of their own accord, only widening Santiago’s smile as Frankie hissed.

He roughly snatched your hands in response, bringing them together behind your back before he placed one of his in between your shoulder blades and eased you forward. You watched, saliva building as Santiago unbuckled his belt, slipping it swiftly from the loops. There are so many ways he could use it yet it gets tossed to the side along with his shirt and pants.

He picks your chin up, “Don’t look so disappointed.”

How could you be disappointed?

Frankie takes your ass in his hand, pushing to encourage you to start riding him. You’re slow at first, trying not to go hell for leather like the essence wanted, and at this angle, you can’t see him just hear how he purrs.

Santiago holds two fingers in front your face and you part your lips, running your tongue along the underneath as he slipped them in. You rolled your tongue around them before he pulled them out, a string of spit hanging briefly between the both of you. Licking your lip, you open your mouth wide enough for his stiff length and girth.

Tipping your head, you stick out your tongue and lick the precum from his radiating tip, the sharpness hitting your tastebuds. He sighs, cupping your jaw and drags you along his cock, stepping forward to graze the back of your throat.

“That’s it.”

His hands drop to his side as he allows you to the control.

You bounce on Frankie’s lap and swallow Santiago in tandem, moaning at the sensation of being full but also the fire in your muscles from being trapped in this position. After a few minutes, Frankie meets your hips with a thrust and you gag on Santiago’s cock as it twitches.

“You alright, cariño?”

You give a muffled response.

Looking up bleary eyed, Santiago’s one eyebrow arches as he double checks on you. You flutter your eyelashes when he brushes the hair from your face and tucks the strands behind your ear. His hand hovers before he runs his fingers into your roots and takes a fistful, the prickling travelling down your neck and shooting down your spine.

He begins to bob your head for you, the tip of your nose tickled by the hairs that line the base of his cock.

Benny had to get out of his clothes.

He scrambled to remove his sweater before freeing his cock from it’s prison. Dropping to the couch with a groan, his length swung towards his navel, this must be what it’s like when someone stumbles across one of his videos.

Every sound the three of you make floods the room, the smell of sweat as the heat builds and can no longer fight the overwhelming urge to wrap his hand around his throbbing shaft. He flinch, his cock so sensitive it’s like he was stupid enough to touch fire. Pushing through it, his jaw locked as he clench his jaw and cautious spread the bead of precum over his head.

Santiago heard movement and track Benny as if he had eyes at the back of his head. He adjusted his stance to let him see you, your features enhanced even from the distance. The glistening of your spit over your lips and round your mouth as you sucked Santiago’s cock, the wave in your throat as he moves in and out, the peaks of your tits wobbling every stroke Frankie took.

The rest of the world blurred around the edges.

Frankie could feel his legs seizing, the knot in his stomach tautening, he wasn’t going to last much longer. He was dizzy from the high, different to the one used to gain from drugs, if he didn’t cum soon he was going to black out.

“We’re gonna need to hurry this up.”

Santiago gave him a singular nod.

Frankie let go of your wrists and tucked them just above your elbows before lifting himself from the armchair. Santiago kept you steady as he moved back and you almost didn’t notice you’d changed position until Frankie snapped his hips, plunging deeply into a new spot.

The vibrations of your groan sent shockwaves through Santiago.

“Fuck,” he said through gritted teeth.

He brought another hand to the back of your head, strategically placed in a way to not obstruct Benny’s view. He helped you take him smoothly as Frankie slammed into you again and again, making you see stars.

“You’re being such a good girl for us, stay with me.”

This was the first time Santiago had seen you go crossed eyed, your tongue so loose you were drooling down your chin, each choked huff sugary sweet.

Frankie could feel the essence pumping through his veins, his crotch was burning as his desire increased until he balls were full enough to explode. His final thrust forced you into Santiago’s stomach and he held you there as his seed coated your walls before your whole body trembled.

When Santiago came, he spilled his load deep into your throat until you swallowed every last drop. The orgasm carried on, your muscles spasming to the point where you pushed Frankie’s cock from your pussy. Your juices flowed after and in the pink coated darkness you could hear Santiago singing his praises, pulling his shaft from your mouth.

Your arms are still held strong by Frankie who worried you were about to collapse before the room came back into view. Santiago was crouch in front of you, rubbing your cheeks until you stopped seeing double.

“I thought it wasn’t meant to be this intense.”

He shook his head, “I dunno, honey, maybe it’s to do with the hormones.”

You were surprised he understood you, your tongue going numb.

Frankie coiled an arm around your chest and straightens you up, holding you close until you stop feeling floppy. However the goosebumps arrive on your skin as you can still feel a set of eyes drilling into you and your eyes finally drift to Benny.

He’s still sat down, his hand firmly clutched around his cock.

Frankie kisses you on your temple before he unravels you, allowing you to approach Benny, who’s hand relaxes. You pierce your lips together, your head dropping to one side as you inspect his length. Your fingertips skim the back of his hand that had settled onto the arm of the couch and his stern expression melts away.

“Need a hand?”

He shuffles forward, head falling back so he can gaze upon your beauty.

“You could use a break…”

Your heart sinks.

“So hold onto my shoulders,” he stands as he speaks, crowding you, “and I’ll do the rest.”

Curiosity paints your face as you look up at him doe-eyed. He raises his eyebrows before he moves quickly, hooking his arms under your ass and lifting you off the floor. You scream, instincts kicking in as your arms winding round his neck and legs opening to wrap around his waist. Burying your head in your arms, he feels how tense you are, muscles shaking in your effort to hold on.

He chuckles when he feels your nails dig into his back.

“Relax, I got you.”

You lift your head up, leaning back to be greeted with beaming face. Your arms loosen up, your spreading hands sending a hot flash down his spine causing his cock to twitch. He repositions his hands to hold more firmly onto the meat of your ass, lining up with your opening. As your legs relax, he slowly sinks you down, cock entering your spent pussy with ease.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan, eyes peeking to watch as his shaft disappeared.

Your inner walls pulsed as he dropped you inch by inch. The base of his spine was on fire, reaching over his hips, burning in his groin and he swore he could shot his load in you there and then.

When he filled you to the hilt, he let you become accustom to the angle and waited until you focused on him. Your chest was picking up speed as your heart rate quickened and skipped, the adrenaline of pleasure entering every end of your body. The flush was returning back to your cheeks, pearls of sweat on your décolletage as he watched.

“Just remember what I told you,” he says when your eyes finally meet.

He dragged his cock as you whine from the loss before he thrust back in, gradually increasing the speed.

Frankie tuts, “Show off.”

Santiago smiled, if his knees didn’t hate him, he would have taken you like this at some point. The training Benny did as well as his physique in general, helped him without the need for wall support though it wasn’t going to last.

You couldn’t take your eyes off Benny.

His furrowed brows as his head hung low, infatuated with how you were taking him, how more juices seemed to flow with every penetration. His dirty blonde locks fell in front of his face, the centre of his chest gaining a sweaty dew, his huffs a rumble against the thunderous claps of each other’s skin.

The tip of his cock nudge at the same soft spot every time, turning your legs to jelly.

“Benny, Benny, please,” you beg.

“Almost there, Bunny.”

His hips were moving as fast as they could, his grasp sinking deeper into your ass yet he could feel you going limp. When he craned his neck, your fingers were slipping to his neck, upper body slopping away from him. Suddenly, he was seeing everything in slow motion, the ripple that travelled through your curves every time he rocked his hips, your tits bouncing. Your head was thrown back, mouth slack as you tried to gain air in your lungs.

Every part of him began to stiffen from his neck towards his chest and abdominals, from his feet to his legs. His movements got sloppy before his ass clenched and the desire he held within dispersed, surging through his veins. The last thing he could do was move a hand to your back and shove your chest to his.

He grunted animalistically, hips jerking as he pumped you full of his cum.

You shuddered as another orgasm washes comes yet there’s no sound from your lips, that underwater sensation washing over you. All you can hear is Benny’s pounding chest, the ragged breaths he releases when finishes.

There’s a wobble as he staggers backwards before collapsing on the couch. He settles, twisting your head to one side to give you fresh air, the hand on your back rubbing soothingly. Another one of the boys approaches, you can’t tell who, and you listen to Benny drink hurriedly.

You don’t know how much time passed until you could lift your head.

“Thought we’d lost you.”

In your cock drunk state, you managed to focus on him admiring you. He brings a hand to your cheek, a thumb trailing over the hot skin and you tilt your head to deepen the touch.

“You’re gonna need this.”

Will crotched down next to you two, placing a hand on your shoulder. You lift your head, sluggishly moving the rest of your body and using Benny to push yourself up with your hands.

Looking to Will, he holds out an entirely full water bottle and winks before you take it off him. He clears the hair from your face as you tip your head back, chugging as the Millers keep their eyes firmly on you. You remove the bottle from your lips and take some big inhales before you can eventually speak.

“You two ok?”

Frankie and Santiago were staring dumbfounded until you snapped them out of it. The tips of Frankie’s ears went bright red and his eyes took a sideward glance to Santiago.

“All fucking good, Bunny.”

You knew Santiago was teasing you except you couldn’t care less.

“Come on, sweetheart, let’s take you to bed.”

You move your legs first, setting your feet on the floor, then you press your palms deeper into Benny’s defined abs to lift yourself. Both of you groan as you raise yourself from his cock which landed heavily to his navel.

All of the boys were still hard and the desire already ignited again.

“Everyone’s coming, right?”

Will took your hand, “Do you really need to ask?”

You walked across the room, glancing over your shoulder when you notice Benny isn’t following, his body solidified to the couch.

“I’ll be with you in a minute.”

“Getting tired, Ben?”

He hated being called Ben and out of all of them, he knew he could last longer than Santiago. Flicking his middle finger, you left him to take a break, sharing one more fleeting glance to see him smiling as you stepped out of view.

—

Waking up in the middle of the night, you found yourself in between of Benny and Santiago, the three of you in the guest room. Both were out cold, their rising chests slow as they breathed softly, tangled in the sheets.

You wiggle from under the covers and crawl over the bed without disturbing them… or so you thought.

“Where are you going, honey?”

Santiago stirs, rolling onto his back, you can both just about see each other’s faces.

“I’m going to check on Frankie and Will.”

“They’ll be fine.”

You fold your arms and huff, “I’m still mad with you, remember.”

There was a pause.

“How could I forget.”

He turned over, shuffling closer to Benny.

Opening the door, you slip out and tiptoe down the hall before gently entering Will’s bedroom. It doesn’t take much to wake him, the dip in the mattress caused him to lift his head.

“Coming in with us?”

You hum and he tosses his side of the duvet aside for you to get in. Tucking yourself to Frankie, you draw your arms in and press your forehead to his back. He mumbles something incoherently and you sigh, a quiet smile coming to your lips.

Will pulls the covers over you and himself before coming near, his warm palm spreading across your stomach as he snuggled you.

In the morning, both sides of the bed were empty. You blink, squinting as your eyes adjust to the light streaming through a single slither in the curtains. Taking your time, you gradually haul yourself out of bed and stagger around the room to find something to wear. You pull on one of Will’s t-shirts and venture down the hall.

The house was alive, the smell of pancake batter frying in butter, the sound of chatter and laughter. You thought you may just be able to slip into the kitchen with them, nick a piece of incredible crispy bacon that would be on the griddle pan whilst one of them tried to pass you a drink.

Santiago’s spider-senses were tingling.

Suddenly he appeared in the hallway, holding two mugs in his hands. You freeze before he juts his chin towards the office and you go where you’re told. He follows behind and you shut the door behind him, placing the mugs down on the dark wood desk.

“What have I got to do for you to forgive me?”

He asked as soon as the mechanism of the handle clicked.

“Morning, Santi,” you say, not turning round.

“Morning, honey,” the words rush out. “So?”

You sigh, stepping forward whilst you hugged your frame.

“You’re forgiven.”

“Since when?”

“Since you managed to get five orgasms out of me.”

He’s lucky last night actually went so well.

Santiago wanted to correct you, tell you it was actually six but this was not the time to for bragging rights.

“Then what have I got to do for you not to be mad at me?”

“I’m not mad.”

He swore under his breath, in his second language so you couldn’t understand or maybe you could, he didn’t know by this point. Your attitude told a different story, you were closing yourself off to him, that constant soft smile of yours no longer there. He bites his tongue, not wanting to lose his shit, not wanting this to become a screaming match or for him to yell at you for acting like a child.

Your eyes were starting to turn glossy with oncoming tears and he saw how hard you swallowed, your jaw locking.

“Bunny…” 

His anger subsides, his tone less harsh. He comes to you, gently wrapping an arm around your back, the other hand cupping your face.

“Talk to me.”

“I don’t want you to lie to me,” the words caught in your throat.

Santiago nodded, his deep brown eyes searching your face.

“Or plan something as stupid as last night without consulting me.”

He shakes his head, “It wasn’t stupid.”

Now, who’s acting like a child?

“Santi,” you extend the ‘i’ at the end of his name, using your hands to cover your face out of sheer frustration.

“Sorry, I’m sorry.”

You fight him as he tries to pry your hands away until he stops and walks away. He approaches the desk and takes a coffee, leaning his ass against the edge, folding one leg in front of the other. When you drop your hands down, all you can see is his smirk.

“So, where do you stand on surprises?”

“Surprises?”

He hums, staring over the lip of the cup as he drank.

You try to keep your composure, straightening your back and folding your arms again but Santiago can tell your fit to burst.

“Depends how stupid they are.”

“Yeah,” his eyebrow arches, “A trip to Disney is kind of stupid.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

There had been conversations about a trip. The boys all wanted different things, Will was happy to hop from state to state trying higher end motels, his brother mentioned the desert and horses. Frankie was fine if there was a body of water, preferably a lake, whilst Santiago said a cabin in the woods with a hot tub. 

You vaguely remember alluding to the fact you hadn’t been to the parks in over ten years but if you were going to do it, you wouldn’t want just the day there.

The moment you said the ‘D’ word, Santiago groaned. It wasn’t that he hated it, more that he detested the idea of being surrounded by kids, overpriced food and Benny singing ‘it’s a small world after all’ on loop.

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip.

“You’re lying.”

“You didn’t want me to lie to you anymore,” he held his hands up.

He’s grateful he put his coffee down as you sprint to him and throw your arms over his shoulders, crashing your lips squarely to his.

“I love you, Santi,” you say when you pull your lips away.

He doesn’t say anything and you scowl.

“You gonna say it back?”

He smiles, “Love you, honey.”

You give him a peck on the cheek.

“Am I allowed to let the boys know that I know?”

“Sure.”

With that you were gone, door left wide open.

“Bunny, your drink!”

The rest of them stood in the kitchen, chatting about what they could remember from last night, cradling cups of coffee and tea. It was the picture of calm until you burst in, bounding onto Benny who almost lost his balance as he took the weight of you around his neck.

“Hot pan!” He flung his arm out.

“We’re going to Disney,” you screamed.

Frankie and Will groan in unison. Benny put the pan down and wrapped his arms under your ass, scooping you up to his waist before talking to you enthusiastically about the trip without giving away any details.

“Pope, seriously man?”

“I thought we were telling her closer to the date.”

He shrugged, “I had to.”

Santiago would never admit why though Will gave a knowing nod and smile before turning his attention to you. He took the handle of the frying pan and switched the gas on as you twist your head round.

“Pancakes?”

“Please,” you replied softly and started discussing what you wanted to do. “We should do the drink around the world challenge!”

“Yes!”

“No,” Frankie and Santiago said immediately.

You pout to them as Benny places you down on the counter top. It’s short lived as you watch Will pour the batter perfectly into the pan with an accompanying sizzle. Benny still talks and you stuff your face with strawberries whilst Santiago and Frankie look on.

“You’re getting soft in your old age.”

“Shut up.”

Frankie knew full well it wasn’t old age.

[pimosworld]

The vulnerability and lust in this is just the right amount of each. They compliment each other so well and I will always love Fishben

Awakening: Melatonin

Frankie Morales x Benjamin Miller

Awakening Series masterlist

Summary: After the events of the group sex (detailed in the masterlist above) Frankie had been distant from Benny, not ready to admit his feelings for Ben. On a camping trip, they can't help but fall into each others arms.

Warnings and content: Anal sex, anal fingers, m/m, blowjob, balls sucking, love confessions, sexual repression, not the most correct termonoligy (Frankie and Santi largely use gay as the same as bisexual/lgbt/queer. They are old men so give them grace.) Internalized homophobia (not a lot, Frankie is just struggling). Aftercare <3 fishben bickering, Miller teasing.

A/N its been. 5 months since i updated lololololol IM SORRY!!! But! I had such bad writers block with how to get them together without just repeating the same stuff as Boys of Summer, but I DID IT!

I know this is just FishBen, not reader so you dont gotta read it when i now ur here for group sex, but next chapter will be the grand finale

ONLY ONE MORE CHAPTER LEFT!

**************

“Fish. Hey. Catfish. Frankiiiiiiiiieeee”

“Oh my god, what?”

“I’m fucking cold.”

Frankie sighed loud enough that Ben could hear him in the next tent. The group had gone camping: Frankie, Benny, Pope, Will and you, and when you and Santi offered to set everyone’s tents up in order to let everyone start swimming, he should’ve been suspicious. Granted, he was suspicious. Suspicious they you and Santi wanted to fuck in the tent, not that the two of you had set Frankie’s tent up next to Benny’s. Assholes. You probably did fuck though.

“Of course you’re cold, you were swimming until fucking 10 pm. I fucking told you to start drying off while there was still sun out but you-”

“Oh my god, Fish, live a little.”

This is what simultaneously drove him insane and endeared Ben to him. Ben was a trained soldier: smart, capable, bright. ‘A one in a million talent’, as Will had said… but when he was out of the military, away from Pope’s insane missions and not in the ring, Benny had no impulse control. He chased his next high constantly, never being concerned with the outcome; something he could usually talk his way out of, like he was trying to now. Benny’s excitement for life and thrill at trying something new was contagious, and was the reason they were in this position right now.

Months ago, Pope had approached him, Benny and Will about helping him fulfill a fantasy of his wife’s; being dicked down by all of them at once. What began as a mission to pleasure you and you alone had morphed into something different, a shift in the group dynamics that scared the fuck out of Frankie. The sex was fantastic, you were beautiful and the energy in the room was one of raw sexuality and free love. He supposed he started it. It wasn’t like Benny had done anything to Frankie that Frankie didn’t want. Benny had sucked him off before in the scenario of a threesome with other women, that wasn't new. Benny was bisexual, and a mouth was a mouth so Frankie had been happy to indulge in the sloppy blowjob that ensued between both of your wet mouths… but it was Frankie who had gotten on his knees and kissed Benny, right there in front of the people they loved.

He simply hadn’t been able to take it anymore. The boy was a golden god, sharp but boyish features, devastating blue eyes, and mouth with many talents in and out of the bedroom. He admired so much about Benny, he was his best friend… but he was just supposed to be a friend. The kiss, the way Ben laid beside him when Frankie was still inside you and whispered sweet nothings, the way Frankie cared for Ben after the orgy had ended… none of that was supposed to happen. In the ensuing months, Frankie started withdrawing from Ben, made even more uncomfortable by the seeming romance brewing between Santi, you and Will; something you had all yet to label but were taking step by step. He was pretty sure Will had snuck into yours and Santi’s tent already. 

Frankie’s feeling for Benny were hard to ignore, but he was fucking trying. It was apparently bad enough that Santi had confronted him about it, telling Frankie to just talk to Ben and figure it out, but Frankie had insisted he wasn’t gay.

“C’mon, man, I’ve seen the way you look at him, the way he looks at you. Benny fucking worships you and you used to laugh at every stupid ass joke he made, now you just look at him longingly like a sexually repressed victorian woman.”

“I’m not gay, Pope. Just ‘cuz everyone else suddenly decided they were, doesn’t mean I am.”

Pope had looked a little hurt at that, slightly uncomfortable with being called gay just yet. “Frank, you were kissing him and-”

“So what!” Frankie had thrown his hands up. “It was the heat of the moment, doesn’t make me magically gay. You didn’t become gay when you got a dick up your ass!”

He was looking increasingly hurt at Frankie’s comments, but also obviously concerned at Frankie suppressing this. “No, I’m gay because I’ve always been gay, Benny just helped me explore that, and I think you should-”

“Oh fuck off”

Frankie stormed out after that. He later apologized, of course, and tried to be better around Ben. Benny hadn’t pushed for anything more, treating him like normal and no one had brough up group sex again so many things could go back to normal… but it’s been awfully fucking hard with Benny shirtless all day at the beach in his goddamn speedo.

“Fiiiiiiish”

“Wuh-uh-uh-uuuuht?!” Frankie whined.

“Can I sleep in your tent? Please? I’m fucking freezing.”

“Get another blanket”

“I have all my blankets!”

He wanted to say no, to tell him to fuck off and be more responsible… but watching Benny shiver by the fire early had tugged at Frankie’s heart, making him sympathetic. He could practically here his teeth chattering in his tent. “Fucking fine, but bring all your blankets. I’m cold as balls too.” whose idea was it to swim past labor day? Just because it was Florida doesn’t mean they should tempt fate.

Benny practically scampered inside Frankie’s tent, a broad grin on his face. “Thank you thank you thank you thank!”

Intending on Benny using his own blankets and just sharing the body heat of the tent, that went out the window when he saw his hair was still damp. “Jesus Ben, you’re gonna get a fucking cold, get your ass in here.” Frankie lifted up his blankets to allow Benny inside. Ben, for his part, kept a respectful distance. To Benny’s credit, he’d always been careful with Frankie, never pushing him to deal with this side of himself and never pushing for exploration with him. “For fucks sake, I won’t bite.” Frankie scooted up next to Benny, feeling his cold skin. He was sympathetic to Benny’s plight. 

Gladly, Benny took the opportunity to cuddle right up to Frankie, sharing in his warmth. It was nice, Frankie had to admit. They laid there for a while, their arms pressed up against each other being the only skin to skin contact Frankie’s received other than quick fucks from tinder.

Of course Ben had to start talking. “I’ve missed this.”

Frankie sighed again. Lots of sighing today. “Can we not talk about it?”

“Okay.” A pause. “I can leave, if that’s what you want.”

He thought about the options. Did he want that? Did he want Ben to leave when he felt so goddamn right? “No, Ben, of course that’s not what I want. I just want things to go back to normal. For us to go back to sharing a tent without it feelings weird.”

Benny turned to look at Frankie, but Frankie’s eyes stayed trained on the darkness of the tent. “It can go back to that. We never have to talk about it again, we can just go back to normal-”

“But we can’t!” Frankie whisper-shouted. “We can’t go back after I kissed you, I kissed you. All those other times it was you blowing me I could justify because you made the move, but I did this, it was me, what am I supposed to think of that?”

Benny seemed to think on that for a while, chewing over his words before speaking. “It doesn’t have to mean anything, Frankie.”

“But it does, because…” Frankie scrubbed his face, groaning. “Because it meant something. You-... ugh… you mean something… to me…”

Another, longer, silence. “What do I mean to you, Frankie? You don’t gotta answer but… maybe we could start there?”

Damn him, he was good at this. The intense darkness of their tent made for a more conducive environment than the harshlights and confronting words of Santi’s home when Santiago had tried, Benny’s calming voice and open ended questions allowing him to think, to speak clearly and with less pressure.

“I can go first, if that’s easier.” Benny offered.

“Yeah, yeah that might be nice.”

Benny didn’t need any time, it seemed like he had thought through this before. “You are my anchor, Frankie. You are… the thing that keeps me grounded. You remind me a lot of Will, in a way, and you’re the only person he’d probably approve of.” Ben gave a small chuckle. “He’s very picky, but… it’s clear the way you care for me. It’s in the way you wrap my hands before a fight and the way you tell me to get out of the goddamn water” Frankie felt a playful nudge. “And how you let me sleep in your tent when I’m freezing my ass off. You care about me, anyone can see it, and I like to think everyone can see how much I care about you. When the helicopter went down, it was you I ran too, your name I called, you I pulled out…”

“I remember…”

“You make me want to be better. You make me want to take better care of myself to lighten your load. You make me happy.”

Frankie was ready. “You know that song, you are my sunshine?” He wanted until he felt Ben nod… when did Frankie lay his head on Ben’s shoulder? “I heard it the other day and thought of you. Everything else gets really… it's gonna be hard to put into words but that’s the main thing. You are my sunshine. You make my days better, especially in recovery. I’ll be having a hard day and you won’t even know and you’ll just brighten it up. I just want to- fuck I just want to take care of you. You say you want to lighten my load but I enjoy it. I like seeing your smile when I bring you food, I like wrapping your hands correctly because I know it’ll help you and protect you. I like it because I like- fucking shit” He had started crying before he knew his eyes were watering, trying to choke it all back. “I love you, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

Benny took a moment to process those words, the confession… before oh-so carefully taking Frankie’s face in his beat-up hands. Gentle, he guided Frankie to look at him. The night wasn’t too dark, but still bright enough to make out vague traces of Benny’s face he loved so much and was struck by how his eyes seemed to glow in the darkness. “We can take this slow, Fish. I know Santi jumped into it, but we can take it step by step. Or not at all, but… if you’re ready to admit you love me, I think you're ready for something. And for the record, I love you too. Always have, always will.”

He was doing this. He could do this. Benny would match his pace as he always had, he could take it slow… but right now, he was ready. With Benny beside him… it all seemed so much less scary. “Can you… can you kiss me?”

“Oh baby…” Benny sighed out in relief. “I’ll always kiss you.”

It was desperate, needy, teeth and lips and tongue and in a clamor to release the years of repression between them both, Frankie moaning into Benny’s open mouth.

“You’ll wake them.” Benny said with no real intent to hush his lover. 

“Oh please, Will climbed into their tent an hour ago.” Frankie fisted his hands into Benny’s shirt, yanking the boy towards him. “Fuck’n need you.”

“Always needed you, Frankie.” Benny muttered between heavy kisses, turning his body so he was half laying on Frankie. “Always will.”

Frankie’s hands found Benny’s hips, pressing him down on him so he could feel both bulges between them, and the way Ben rutted against him was electric, shooting to the very core of him and circulating through his body. “Fuck’n desperate.” Frankie murmured in Ben’s ear.

Benny chuckled. “Says the one grinding me on him.”

“Oh my god, you never stop talk’n, do yuh” 

But Ben could feel Frankie’s smile against his skin as they further pressed into each other, a desperate need for each other’s closeness.

“You wanna do this here?”

“God yes, need you.”

“We can take it slow, take it at your pace.”

“This is my pace, I always- of fuuuuck-” Frankie grabbed the meat of Ben’s ass in his sweats. “I always fuck on the first date.”

Kissing down his neck, Benny made sure to mark up Frankie’s neck. Everyone would know who he belonged to now. “Oh, are we dating now?” He teased.

Frankie’s voice was practically a whine. “Don’t fucking play with me, I can’t fucking take it anymore”

He stopped the motions, the heat of the moment cooling for just a moment while Benny forced Frankie to focus on him, only him. “Won’t play with you, promise. I’m yours.”

“Yours…”

It wasn’t long until both pants were shucked off (shirts remaining on for warmth, a blanket covering over them), Frankie fingering his wet fingers into Ben’s asshole.

“Can’t fucking wait to feel you” He muttered to the blonde, wriggling his body further down. “Gotta taste you, first.” Frankie wasn’t sure where to go first. “I’ve never sucked dick before…”

Benny smiled up at him encouragingly. “We don’t gotta worry about that today.”

“But I wanna…” Frankie’s large wet eyes glanced at him from his position between Ben’s legs. “Wanna make you feel as good as I can, Benjamin.” He tentatively wrapped his free hand around Ben’s cock, stick and hard and dripping for him. “Can I just… take you in my mouth, and you control the pace?”

Ben wasn’t sure how much control he was gonna have with two of Frankie’s long fingers in his ass making him pant and moan already, but he agreed, entangling his hands into Frankie’s soft curls as the older man lowered his mouth on Ben’s length. He took it slow, setting a steady pace but not pushing Frankie further than halfway down him. They could work on that later; they could spend the rest of their lives familiarizing themselves with each other's bodies, learning and growing together. Tonight was simplistic.

“Just like that, doing so good Fransisco… oh god doing so good” Benny moaned for him, the cold of the night long forgotten in the wet heat of Frankie’s mouth. His plush lips looked magnificent stretched out around his dick and the way Frank looked up at him as his fingers pumped Ben might be his favorite sight in the world. Frankie, for his part, was in fucking heaven. This felt right, this felt so fucking right and Frankie felt like he could spent his life sucking and licking on every inch of Ben’s body, and let out a whine when Ben pulled him off. Frankie moved further down, taking Ben’s balls in his mouth as Ben spoke.

“Gonna cum if you keep going like that, want us to cum together.”

“Wanna taste you in my mouth” His mouth joined his fingers, licking at Benny’s used hole.

“Seems like you got a whole lot of me in your mouth, Frank.”

Frankie groaned, frustrated. “Need more. Can’t get enough of you.” He lapped at the pale skin, only bits of him the speedo covered, the taste of river water and sweat dancing on his tongue.

“Francsco, look at me.” Ben called to him, and when Frankie looked up, lips detaching from his ass, Ben took his face in his hands and pulled him up for a kiss. “I know you’re making up for lost time, but we got the rest of our lives. I want to feel you inside me, I want to cum with you.”

Frankie nodded, obliging. “You ready? I know we don’t got lube, I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“You opened me up, and theres lot fo spit” he chuckled. “I’m ready.”

With a deep breath, holding onto Benny’s shoulder, Frankie slowly and carefully slid his cock into Benny’s gapping hole and fuck, it felt… it felt… “You feel like home…”

He didn’t try to fit all of himself in Ben; he was aware his dick was massive and without lube, it wasn’t worth potentially hurting Ben just to bottom out. It started out to deserate, so needy, a desire that just had to be fulfilled but melded into something softer. They had the rest of their lives… tonight could be sensual and slow. Frankie fucked into his new lover, Benny’s head tossing around on the pillow as theirs limps and lips entangled, Frankie chasing Benny’s mouth every time Bne’s pleasure became too might.

“Feel so goddamn good Frank, can’t wait to spend my life like this.”

Frankie kissed his nose. “Can’t wait to spend my life making you smile” He took Ben’s dick back in his hands, jerking him as he pumped into his ass. “Can you cum for me? I can’t hold on much longer, been wait’n too long.”

“Y-yes, yes Francsco, I wanna come with you, please?”

“Don’t gotta beg, just lemme see it, lemme see you cum, I’m right behind you, I promise.”

Benny complied, his body writhing as warm cum shot out from his cock. “F-fucking love you.”

“Good boy, baby” Frankie praised, jerking Ben’s pulsing length. “Look so beautiful cumming in my hand, gonna-fuckinghell-gonna fill up this perfect assohmygod” Frankie’s voice sputtered and hips stuttered as he filled up Benny’s warm hole with his cum, fucking him full. “Good boy…” One final time as Frankie slumped onto Ben’s body and into hsi awaiting arms as he carefully slid out. They laid there for a month, panting as they came down from their respective highs, a wide grin on Ben’s blissed out face.

Once he felt like his legs wouldn’t give out, Frankie a breath and pushed his body up to go get something to clean Ben off, but was surprised when Benny desperately wrapped his arms around Frankie’s body. 

“Don’t go, please?”

Frankie managed to lift up enough to look into Ben’s glowing blue eyes in the dark. “I’m just getting a towel, Ben. I’m not going anywhere…”

The worry of Ben’s face subsided just a little. “I just… I don’t want this to be like last time…” Last time, Frankie didn’t talk to Ben for months.

“It won’t, I promise. Can I clean you up?”

Benny acquiesced, and Frankie wriggled on his pants and left the tent, coming back with a damp towel and some of their waters and trail mix. Tender and soft, Frankie wiped his cum out of Benny’s leaking hole and Ben’s cum off the boys stomach, skin exposed by his ridden-up shirt. “Here.” Frankie made sure Benny had some of the trail mix and drank some water, then did the same himself. When Frankie was certain Ben was taken care of, he redressed him, making sure he was nice and warm. “I ain’t gonna leave you this time, Ben. I’m with you, now.”

Just as Benny was about to nod off, exhausted and lulled to sleep by Frankie playing with his hair, they heard Will from the next tent. Santi and your tent, actually. “Fucking FINALLY!”

The 5 of them burst out in laughter, Frankie nuzzling his blushing face in Ben’s firm chest but smiling still. “Oh my fucking god”

Ben called out to his brother. “How much of that shit did you hear?”

Santi spoke now. “All of it.”

Your turn. “It was a very sweet love confession”

Frankie lifted his face. “So you heard all of it.”

“Well, you weren’t exactly quite.”

Turning to Frankie, Ben shrugged. “Well, we weren’t”

Frankie playfully nudged him.

“So yes, we heard you eating his ass.” Santi teased, followed the distinct sound of either you or Will smacking him. “Ow! Hey, All I’m saying is the recent developments are gonna make the next ORGY wayyyyy more interesting.”

***************

THEY ARE BAAAAAAAAACCCKK!!!!

Thanks for all your patience!

@kittyofalltrades @bit-dodgy-innit @milkymoon2483 @luciannadraven33 @welcometostayingawake @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @cocodiem @imwaytooobsessedwithpedro @twistedboxy @juneknight @angelbabyyy99 @marshmallow--3 @ahookedheroespureheart @kandik @moonknightly @storyarcscribe @itspdameronthings @lou-la-lou @axshadows @saintbedelia @lucianadraven32 @your-voice-is-mellifluousuous @nana90azevedo @luciferiorbxtch @djarinluvr @aretha170 @mystinky-butt @uglie-hoe @sirenphrynne @sammierae-16 @thismessthatsm @luciannadraven33 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @cocodiem @gogh-with-the-flow @paintlavillered @tiny-raccon @luciferiorbxtch @feltonswifesworld87 @whitearmsredhands @pimosworld @mrscadilllac @i-wanna-be-your-muse @violentdelightsandviolentends @lunar-ghoulie @meveispunk @missdictatorme @itspdameronthings @luciferiorbxtch @lonelyisamyw-0love @poeedameronn @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @luke-o-lophus @the-soulofdevil-reads @thepowerthismanhasoverme @miraclesabound @gogh-with-the-flow @simps-central @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @ssuperficialspacecadett @munson-hargrove-barnes86 @broken-arrow-ambassador @thedreadandthefugitivemind

@casa-boiardi @littlevenicebitch @caelumcvre

sorry if i missed anyone!!!

lmk if you wanna be tagged for the next part!!!

[flightlessangelwings]

FlightlessAngelWings Kinkotber 2023 Prompt List!

Here it is, the Kinktober Prompt List!!

Compiled by myself and edited/peer reviewed/approved by my bestie @the-purity-pen who had made fantastic prompt lists in the past (and who also made the beautiful graphics for me)!! This list has a little bit of everything from more vanilla to more hardcore prompts so there’s a little something for everyone, or to branch out and try something new if you feel like it!

Write fics, make art, graphics, gifs, moodboards, whatever your heart desires!! Any type of creations are welcome too: reader insert, oc, ships, original works, anything!

Have fun and be creative!!

Below the cut are 31 days of prompts for the month of October! Each day has 3 choices with a free space day on the 31st!

Because of the nature of the event, this is 18+ ONLY! Minors interacting or participating will be blocked!

Please tag me @flightlessangelwings and use the hastag #fawktober2023 and I’ll share your works!

Please use proper warnings in your posts with this event as some of the prompts may not be for everyone. And if you’re doing a reader insert, please work to be inclusive of your writing/art!

No kinkshaming please! I made this list to be varied so there may be things on here you hate. That’s ok! There’s things here that even I don’t like but I designed it that way so there’s something for everyone! But that’s also why tags and warnings are so important!!

Reblog this post so others and find this list and to share the fun!! And don’t forget to reblog other people’s work too throughout October and support each other!!

If none of the prompts for the day speak to you, feel free to pull from another day if you want! Don’t feel pressured at all! Have fun with it!!

List under the cut in graphic and text format!

Banner free to use for your posts with credit to @the-purity-pen 💖

Both dividers by the lovely @saradika ❤️

Love bites * Overstimulation * Impact play

Bath/shower * Public * Knife play

69 * Exhibitionism * Monster au

Thigh riding * Sex pollen * Forced orgasm

Table sex * Threesome * Sensory deprivation

Sexting/phone sex * A/B/O * Bondage

Slow and soft * Partner swap * Spanking

Cockwarming * Temperature play * Rough sex

Role play * Pegging * Hunter/prey

Stripping * Anal * Double penetration

Seduction * Blindfold * Degradation

Formal wear * Glove kink * Gun play

Body worship * Being recorded * Anonymous sex

Tit/nipple play * Object insertion * BDSM

Against a wall * Size kink * Free use

Lap dance * Role reversal * Whipping

Praise kink * Rimming * Tentacles

Masturbation * Squirting * Dacryphilia (crying/emotional release)

Hand job * Voyeurism  * Somnophilia

Sex toys * Orgy/group * Corruption

Romantic sex * Piercings * Hate sex

Voice kink * Virginity * Fisting

Dirty talk * Begging * CNC

Lingerie * Edging * Leather/latex

Mirror sex * Orgasm denial * Breeding

Face sitting * Deep throating * Choking

Food play * Period sex * Wax play

Blowjobs * Intercrural sex * Cock rings

Fingering * Cream pie * Gagging

Cunnilingus * Costumes * Breath play

FREE SPACE

[crowandmousewritingco]

Pairing: Frankie Morales x gn!reader

Word Count: 760

Rating: R (18+ MDNI)

Summary: Frankie gets frustrated. You give him motivation.

Author: Mod Mouse

Warnings: Cock warming, general horniness. This is a 18+ fics so MDNI.

“Benny you gotta watch my six!” Frankie yells as he weaves his way through the map. “Fuck!” The enemy shot the last squad member, sending them back to the loading screen. This was the third time that his group died before the loot drop, and you could tell Frankie was starting to get frustrated at his long time friend. The way he adjusted his hat with a little more force then more and his finger slammed against the keys made even your own fingers hurt.  

You look up from your shared bed at your boyfriend. This was your nightly routine. Frankie would play whatever video game with the boys and you would occupy yourself with whatever craft. Frankie tended to get a little passionate when it came to his video games to the point of sometimes working himself up. This was one of those times. 

A thought came into your head and you smirked. As silently as you could you slipped off the bed. Frankie was too enthralled with the trash talking as you shimmied off the sweatpants you were wearing letting them drop to the floor. With another swift movement, Frankie’s sweatshirt that you always stole joined the pile. 

“Okay this time you have to watch out for that tank,” Frankie added as the pregame selection popped up. 

As he was choosing his character you tapped his shoulder with an overexertion. “What is it–” He begins swiveling his chair to see you, but was then when he realized that you were naked. Chest scars and thick thighs graced his view and you gave him a small wave. 

“What did you say?” You could hear Benny ask as you pressed your finger to your lips indicating Frankie to not say a word. 

Frankie’s eyes widened when you sexily bent at the hips and gently slid your hand down his chest. Brown puppy dog eyes begged for an explanation, but you continued winking at him as your hand found its ways under the waistband of his pjs. 

He took a sharp intake as he felt your fingertips brush the top of his cock causing a sharp twitch inside his pants. You covered your mouth with the other hand to cover up your giggles as your fingers brushed the top of his dick tracing the soft veins that adorned it. 

“Hey Frankie, what are you doing?” Benny asked as the round started up. 

Frantically Frankie went back to his keyboard as he started playing again. But that didn’t deter you. Slowly you pulled his cock out pumping it up and down now that it was free from its confines. The movement sent Frankie’s shot wide and he cursed under his breath. A quick side eye from you indicated he was irritated, but the blush on his cheeks meant he wasn’t that mad. 

After a few more agonizingly slow pumps you let go of his now hard cock. He bit his lip to keep himself from whimpering, but a swift kiss to the cheek reassured him. “B-Benny on your left,” He called out as you gently straddled his gaming chair. 

He looked up at you briefly before watching his screen over your shoulder. You once again took his cock in your hands rubbing the head with your thumb. “F-Fuck,” He moaned but quickly shut up when he realized what happened. 

“Frankie, did you see them,” Benny asked after a pause. 

“Um ya they went that way,” Frankie answered as you aligned yourself and slowly lowered yourself down until he was fully inside you. 

“But they were just there,” Benny answered. Frankie quickly covered his mouth with his hand keeping his moan inside of his mouth. 

You leaned down and whispered into Frankie’s ear. “If you win this round, then you can take the real prize.” 

That was enough motivation for Frankie. As if a switch was flipped, Frankie started getting head shot after head shot, sending their team rocketing into first place where they stayed for the whole round. You could hear Benny celebrating in the background, and Frankie raised his hands into the air in excitement. 

Frankie celebrated for a bit before saying, “Okay Benny that’ll be it for me tonight.” His hands rested on your ass giving it a squeeze. You had to cover your mouth so your squeak wouldn’t come through. You glanced down at Frankie who smiled with the hint of lust in his eyes. 

“Okay catfish. Have fun taking your reward,” Benny teased as you both blushed at the realization. Tonight was definitely going to be something else.

```````

All Works Taglist

@for-a-longlongtime @romanarose

Pedro Character Taglist

@littlemisspascal @burntheedges

@carusolikey @thebeldroramscal

@morallyinept @lady-bess

@pedrostories @rivnedell

@pascalsanctuary @readingiskeepingmegoing

@jessthebaker

Credit: @inklore

[romanarose]

Awake

Fem!Reader x Santiago Garcia, Francisco Morales, Ben Miller, Will Miller Santiago Garcia x Will Miller Ben Miller x Francisco Morales

All TF boys and reader mix except Miller Brothers

Awakening Series masterlist

YOU DO NOT NEED TO READ ANY OF THE OTHERS! There's a good story here about coming out, bisexuality, literally "awakening". This is the finally, where everyone is awake.

Written for my (day late lol) Oscar Pedro Pride Event, week 3, Sex/kissing!!!

Summary: You take Santi, Will, Frankie, and Ben all inside you at once. That's the fic.

Warnings and content: Literally everything. BJ's, triple penetration, double vaginal penetration, bukake, just like. im not listing everything happening but its a lot. everything bisexual. Then aftercare!

A/N its been NINE MONTHS!!! since i updated. I get it if no one cares anymore lololololol. Anyway THIS IS IT!!! the end!!!!!

*********************

It was amazing how, after all these months, the stretch of Will’s cock still got to you having to catch you breath.

Things were good, really fucking good these days. You, Will, and Santiago had a discussion about the relationship; firstly, between you and Santi where you both agreed that yes, you both wanted Will involved. You weren't sure how or if he really wanted to, but he meant too much to both of you to just keep pretending it was the same as when Ben or Frankie were inside you. Then, you talked to Will. He agreed that yes, he had feelings for both you and your husband. However, he was not at a place right now; he didn’t want to move too quickly. So you didn’t. Will came over sometimes and stayed the night, fucked you and Santi and got fucked in a tangled up mess on the bed… no labels, just taking it easy.

On the other side of things, Ben moved out of Will’s and in with Frankie a week after the camping trip. They were completely inseparable and 2 months later, engaged. 3 months after that, you were standing as a witness in a courthouse for their wedding and cooking multiple hot plates for a backyard potluck reception. Frankie was not one for being in the spotlight, and Ben was not one to dress up.

Now, you watch as your husband lay on the bed next to you, Frankie fucking his ass while his own husband eats him from behind. Your tits bounced with each thrust of Will’s hips, your arms wrapped around his back and stuck to it with sweat. You watch, Will’s breath against your neck, as Santi writhes in pleasure, hips bucking up to meet Ben’s mouth. Your hands were laced together.

Santi turns to you, smiling with his eyes glancing over your body. “You look…” He pants. “Really fucking good like this.”

You laugh a little. “So do you.”

You both grin at each other, unbelieving of your luck to find such a group. 4 men who you trusted with your life and your body to take care of you, and for you to take care in return. Will gently cupped your face, guiding your mouth to where his waited. His touch was a stark softness compared to the way his cock continued to pound into you. 

“You doing okay, princess?” He took your lower lip with his as he pulled away, drawing out the tender kiss. Beside you was the sound of Santiago getting absolutely fucking railed by Frankie. 

“I’m fucking fantastic.” You confirm, then nod to Santi with a cheeky smile. “I don’t know about him, though.”

Santi’s grip on your hand was like a vice, head propped back as he was practically screaming on his oldest friends dick.

Will chuckles. “He’s still not used to taking a dick.”

Careful as to not reject Will’s affections, you nudge him off you. You feel empty without him inside, but your husband calls. “Baby…” You caress his face after crawling next to him, knelt by his side. Your hand reaches out for Frankie, but he’s already slowing. “Baby are you okay?” You protected Santiago the way he always protected you.

Slow and bleary, Santiago opened his eyes, chuckling with disbelief. “I’ve never been better, baby girl.”

*

You and Ben lay up against your husband's arms, both your men feeding you water. Santi reminds Will to drink, and he does before wiping off you, Santi, and Frankie with a cool towel before passing it to Frankie for Ben. Will always watched out for Benny during group sex just as on the field, but was not about touch during these moments. As Will watched his brother smile in Frankie’s arms, however, he knew he was okay. Frankie took care of him.

Ben turned to you with his dopey grin. “How does it feel watching your husband regularly get his ass stretched?”

This makes you laugh, and you give him a kick. “Pretty fucking good, especially if I’m sitting on his face.”

*

Santi’s arms were wrapped lovingly around you, chest to chest, his dick deep up inside your swollen and tired pussy. He’d gone in easy, and you signed as Frankie bottomed out into your ass. Two down, two to go.

Frankie’s massive hands played with your hair, his mouth kissing your neck, moving up to nibble on your earlobe. “You feel me, baby? Feel me and Santi right up in you?” He gave a thrust inside, making Santi’s chest rumble in pleasure. “I can sure feel him, mmm, fuck, it’s just… I can feel that thick vein of his when I move.”

“I know just what you mean.” You say with a smile, egging him on. Santiago had the most perfect cock you’d ever seen in your life; long, thick, and veiny. Curved up just a little bit in a way that hit you juuuust right. “Gotta feel him inside you one of these times, Frankie” You right back and grab his thigh. “He fills you up in just the best way.”

The older man looks up to where Ben stood at the edge of your bed, hands soothing you and stimulating erogenous zones. He sometimes pauses to play with your hair, which you particularly love. When Ben sees Francisco looking at him, he goes for a kiss.

“I’d love to see that, Fish.” He likes his tongue over his lover’s face. “Watch Santi struggle to take you, watch him fucking whimper on your cock.”

Frankie was equally enthralled as Will situated himself in the back, getting ready to slide in right there with Santi in your cunt. Will’s hand splayed across Frankie’s ass, thumb sliding into his asshole as he moved his fellow soldier around right where he needed to be. In general, Francisco liked to take charge in the bedroom, but when it came to Will, everyone fell under his order. He was tall, large, companding but had the competence to back it. The last time you were all together, Santiago stayed on the sidelines for the most part to make sure you were safe and happy. Now, however, you’d all experienced so much, he trusted all the men to take care of you, take care of him, take care of each other. Now, Will slides into his natural element as the leader.

Squeezing an ample amount of lube on his hand, he covered not only his cock but added it to Frankie and Santi. You had no problems getting wet and they always took careful time to open you up, but he wasn’t taking chances with your precious body. His thumb was obviously nothing compared to Ben’s dick, but he wasn’t trying to split him up, just to add to the pleasure of being inside you. Santi languidly kissed at your lips as Will spoke to Frankie.

“I’ll fuck this tight little hole of yours while you’re inside Santi, hm? Thrust into you hard enough I drive you into him?”

Frankie moans at the thought, and Benny bends down to join in this kiss between you and Santi. You both excitedly welcome him in, tongues wrestling as he kisses between words. “And I can fuck our favorite lady while you guys are our personal porn.”

Santi sucked on your bottom lip. “Want me to be your pornstar, mi amor? You like watching me take it up the ass for you to get off to?” He punctuated his point with a harsh thrust up, spearing his cock inside. The moans from Frankie were nothing compared to the sounds you let out. He looked over your shoulder at Will. “She’s ready, fill her up.”

With his thumb continued to fuck Frankie, Will’s other hand was firmly placed on your ass. It wasn’t for guidance or smack or to massage… it was just there to ground you. You cry out against Santi’s neck you were sucking on, Will slowly and carefully inserting himself into you. There's so much of him to take, inch after inch it never seemed to end. Santi’s hands went to Will’s hips, stopping him. He wasn’t going to be able to bottom out just based on the sheer amount of people occupying a small space, but what he was able to fit in was almost too much. When Will stops, Santi holds your face. “You okay, bebita?” He asks you gently. “Is it too much?”

You take a deep, steadying breath and shake your head. It was a lot. Like a fucking a lot. “No, no I think I’m good.”

“Princess.” Will spoke above you. “We don’t wanna do nothing based on ‘I think.’ If you gotta stop or slow down, we want you to tell him.”

Considering his words, you believe him. You knew firmly that they would never want you uncomfortable outside of the stretch you begged for… And you probably could take them all fully… but you decided to call it. 

“Just…” You turn around to see his softly smiling face, Will’s beard still glistening with your wetness, Frankie’s chest sticking to your skin. “Don’t go any further, okay? The stretch is good, you don’t gotta take it easy or nothing just…”

Will bent around Frankie to kiss your lips, tender and sweet before Ben takes your mouth. “I got you, princess. I won’t push it.” And you knew he wouldn’t. Last but not last was Benny. You could understand why Frankie and him were always sneaking away to suck each other's dicks, Ben had a nice one indeed, one you enjoyed as he slid into your mouth. 

Santi in your pussy, holding you and Frankie both close. He fucked up into you, cock rubbing against Will’s where they were nestled in together. Will wrapped an arm around Frankie, playing with his nipples as Frankie humped his ass against Wills torso while fucking you in yours. His moans were swallowed by Ben, who kissed his husband while fucking you throat.

“Mi chica perfecta…” Santi whispers between wet kisses to your skin. “Letting me and my friends use all your holes, let off some steam… letting us break you in…”

You whimpering against Ben’s dick in affirmative. You loved degradation, you loved being objectified and they all knew it, because after it all was said and done, they touched you and cared for you in such a gentle way that assured you that they loved you in all their unique ways.

Soft stroke of a thumb over your ass steadied you as you listened to the kissing above you and Santi. Will’s gentle reassurance compared to hard pounding you were taking from behind. 

“Could’ve used something like her back in the service, couldn’t we boys? Something fuck after a long day, a pretty little toy.”

Frankie disengaged from Ben, a string of spit connecting them for a few moments longer. “Maybe we wouldn’t have waited 20 years to come out of the closet.”

“Speak for yourself.” Ben laughs, thrusting into your mouth. “I took full advantage of the frequent moving around and secretive bars.”

“Slut” Will laughs, shaking his head at his baby brother's antics.

Santi spoke from below you, never stopping humping his hips up. “You’re one to talk, IronHead.” This resulted in a smack to Will’s thigh. You felt full beyond belief feeling yourself approach orgasm as the men you loved use your holes and your body, bringing you and each other pleasure. Ben alternates between thrusting into your mouth, then pulling out and putting it to Frankie’s lips. Benny is quick with praise for you and Frankie, never making you feel like you were just an aid to their relationship despite the degrading teasing. Behind you, Will and Santi’s hands were all over each other and Frankie, Santi even reaching back at points to plays with Benny’s tightening balls. 

“You feel that, Will? Our princess is getting ready to come for us again.” Santi laughs mockingly, but you are. What on earth is going to feel like coming on 3 dicks? You can’t imagine having room to even clench right now, your body stiffening in pleasure and pain as everything became so dizzyingly good. You close your eyes, losing yourself in the joy, the closeness, the extreme trust that it takes to pull off something like that. The love that is found, romantic, friendship, brotherhood in multiple ways. Will managed to hike up Santi’s ass just enough to stuff his fingers inside, making both Santiago and Francisco moaning like moans on Will’s fingers, Ben guiding them to kiss. You join in, and so does Benny’s dick. You, Fankie and Santi slobber and kiss and suck in such a mess that half the time you don’t know whose skin you are kissing.

You pussy and ass begins to feel raw, the pleasure still whirling in your stomach but beginning to be distracted by the discomfort between your legs. You tap Santi, wet lips against his cheek as you’re barely aware of anything else. “Approaching yellow, baby” You warn, punctuating it with a kiss so he knew it wasn’t anything serious. Santi could sometimes get dom drop. It wasn’t often, but you liked to make sure he knew everything was okay.

Holding up a hand, Santi halted everyone’s movements. Will rested his head against Frankie’s lower back, panting. Ben dropped to his knees to take your hand in his. Frankie kissed your sweaty shoulder blades. 

But Santi is who you communicated to. You trusted them all, but Santi will always be your husband, your baby, tu amor. 

“You okay, bebita?” He asks with a gentle timber, his low voice rumbling against your chest.

“I’m okay, I just think after I come, I wanna get to the grand finale.” You say with a laugh and a kiss.

He kisses you right back, signaling everyone to get back to work. Ben, instead of fucking your mouth, stays on his knees to massage your neck and shoulders. “Come whenever you're ready, darl’n.” Ben’s absurdly deep voice tells you.

It takes less than a minute and you’re coming on 3 hard dicks stuffed inside your holes, Will letting out a guttural sound that told you it was taking everything in him not to come inside you. You shake under the force of your orgasm, finger nails digging into Santi’s soft, bare skin. Everything was so fucking perfect, your senses blocking out anything that wasn’t immense pleasure. You couldn’t hear a word of their praises, you couldn’t smell the musk of marathon sex, you couldn’t see the men who swarmed around you like bees to their queen. You were blinded by the light.

Santi kissed your skin, no longer moving. He knew how sensitive you could get after coming. 

“Everyone ready?” He asked, Frankie desperately humping your ass, chasing the high.

“Fuck, I’m so close…”

“Have Benny get you there, I think she’s sore.”

And you were. You were actually quite sore and you were glad you had someone who knew you as well as Santiago did to watch out for you. You were perfectly fine saying no, stop, not yet, later, etc. You trusted Frankie completely. But it was nice to have someone who knew you so completely that you didn’t even need to say it.

Frankie got up with no problem, kissing your lips and whispering a thank you. Ben spits in his hand, and while they make out like teenagers he brings Frankie to the brink. Ben grabbed the wipes, cleaning his husband off in case you end up blowing him. You knew you didn’t want any ass to mouth action. Santi and Will slowly get out of you, leaving you feeling empty without them. You look forward to whatever the future holds for the three of you, whatever parts Will was willing to give. Will’s massive arms pick you up, careful when he sets you on your knees on the carpet.

 Seeing 4 gorgeous, stacked, hung men standing in front of you… you were revived and needed a taste. You put Santi’s dick in your mouth first, fisting Ben and Frankie, then alternating to taste all four of them in your mouth. Delicious.

Then, then all swarm you, jerking their cocks rapidly until cum came flying out, splattering your face, your tits, your laved out tongue in white. They dump their hot spend on you, groaning and grunting and kissing each other and all you could hear was the sounds of their pleasure and the fap, fap, fap of their masturbation. 

When they were done, they wiped their tips in their hair.

*

Santi washed your hair in the shower, Will’s arms around you keeping you steady. The water was warm, not too hot, and he was very careful cleaning you and Will up. They both dried you with warm towels, as Frankie drew Ben in. You liked that Frankie washed Ben’s hair too, despite a 4 inch height difference. Will took you to bed while Santi made sure Frankie and Ben had enough towels and knew where shower items were. 

For a while, you just lay there in Will’s arms, listening to Frankie tell Ben to “stop messing with the water” and “it doesn’t need to be hotter, this ain’t a hot tub!” followed by Ben yelping how the water is too hot. You can feel Ben laugh. Santi gives you and Will water, instructing you both to drink as he settles into bed on the other side of Will. When Frankie and Ben return, Ben is carrying a butt naked Frankie, ass first, over the shoulder and into the room before flopping him down on the bed. 

“It’s my turn to take care of you, idiot.”

And he did. He dried Frankie off, gave him water, fed him some raisins which you though was odd but to each their own.

“Santiago, why don’t you ever feed me raisins?” You teased him.

“Because I love you, they are sickos.”

Will kissed your forehead. “I’ll feed you raisens, princess.”

“I don’t even like raisins.”

Will groaned. 

But they all slept there that night, in your marital bed, tangled up and limbs on limbs, arms slung across wastes and lips to skin.

It was nice like this.

******************

Well, after a year and a half i finally finished this bitch!!!! one less series to worry about!!!!

Pease let me know what you think, I sure hope this was worth it! Begining was hard to write, but once i got in the zone it's all over!!!!

I hope y'all enjoyed it! I sure enjoyed writing it!!!!

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