#almostempty

[editorsusan]

Geez, if Card weren't here, I would be completely alone on my side of the copy desk today! No more Danielle, Lucero out, no Peter, Joann off-site … waaah! (But yay for Card!)

Our friend and coworker Kathy, who recently retired, said she had confidence that Card and I (just the two of us) could get the paper out. LOL!! We had to laugh at that, or else we would start crying. Too close to being true.

[gothcsz]

ugh I want to be sat on javi's desk whilst he tells me to spread my legs so he can see how wet I am for him 😩😩😩

tags: f!reader, lil bit of dirty talk, terms of endearment (amor, baby), established relationship, husband!javi, no use of y/n, smut, unprotected p in v sex (be safe), oral (f), any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know ok thx.

~ 3k w/c - gif cred

a/n: two very similar prompts that i have merged together and hope lives up to what you guys were asking for 🖤 thank you @almostempty for finding the gif for me because that's all i was thinking about when i started writing this. also dedicating this to @yxtkiwiyxt because i know you love husband javi 🖤

The soft click of the door shutting behind you barely registers as you slip into his home office. Your eyelids are heavy, the remnants of sleep still tugging at your senses as you blink them away. The clock on the wall reads 3:00 a.m. sharp.

The gentle glow of his desk lamp casts a golden hue over his chiseled profile. It’s a scene you’ve walked into countless times—Javier immersed in his work, utterly focused, documents spread haphazardly across the desk.

“Amor,” his voice scrapes through the quiet, rough and low from hours of silence. He leans back in his chair, the leather groaning softly beneath him, and his arms open, beckoning you close. His dark eyes soften when they meet yours. “What are you doing up?”

You step toward him without hesitation, as though pulled by a force you can’t resist. Sliding onto his lap sideways, you settle yourself against his comforting frame, resting your head in the warm crook of his neck.

The familiar scent of him—a mix of his cologne and the faint, earthy tang of coffee—wraps around you like a blanket. 

“I can’t sleep without you, Javi,” you murmur, pouting slightly as your fingers idly trace patterns on the fabric of his shirt. “You know that.”

His large hand trails up and down your spine in slow, soothing strokes. He presses a tender kiss to the crown of your head, and his sigh feels as heavy as the workload surrounding him. “I know baby,” he murmurs. “I just have a lot to get through before my meeting in the morning.”

You groan in frustration, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. Your lower lip juts out in a way you know he finds irresistible, but it’s not just an act. “Sometimes it feels like you prioritize this,” you say, gesturing toward the chaotic sprawl of documents on his desk, “over me.”

His mustache twitches with a frown, the corners of his mouth tugging downward. “Don’t say that,” the sincerity in his tone clear. “You know that’s not true.”

“Then why are you here instead of in bed with me?” Your tone softens, though the ache of loneliness seeps through.

You know he works hard, tirelessly, to provide for you, to ensure you both have the life you dreamed of. But knowing that doesn’t always make it easier to compete with the demands of his job. Sometimes, it feels like you’re fighting for scraps of his time, his attention.

He doesn’t respond right away, but he doesn’t need to. Over the years, you’ve learned to read every nuance of your husband—the slight crease between his brows, the way his lips press together, the tension in his jaw. Reaching up, you trace a finger along his jawline, your thumb brushing gently over the sharp curve of his cheekbone.

His skin is warm beneath your touch, and you feel the tension in him ebb away, piece by piece.

Javier’s arms tighten around you, one hand resting on your bare thigh, right where your oversized t-shirt rides up, the other pressing into the small of your back. “You want me to come to bed?” 

His warm breath sends a shiver down your spine as his nose skims along your jawline, and you hum in response, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

His lips ghost along your skin, scattering kisses that make your breath hitch. “Seems like I’ve been neglecting my duties. Got my girl sittin’ here, pouting in my lap, begging for attention.” The faint rasp in his voice has lust pooling low in your belly.

A whimper escapes before you can stop it, your hips shifting instinctively against his lap. You’ve missed this—the intensity, the intimacy, the way he always manages to make you feel like the center of his universe, even when life pulls him in every other direction.

His hand inches higher, the rough pad of his thumb brushing against the soft skin of your inner thigh, his knuckles grazing the edge of your cotton panties, sending a spark through your body.

 “Bet she’s warm and wet for me,” he murmurs, his lips grazing the shell of your ear before catching your earlobe between his teeth.

Your thighs part almost involuntarily, “Javi,” you moan, burying your face in his neck, your lips latching onto the spot just below his jaw.

His groan vibrates against you, low and guttural. His free hand comes down hard on your thigh with a satisfying smack, making you yelp and arch in surprise. 

“You can’t be marking me up like that, mi amor. It’s not exactly professional for me to walk into a meeting with a giant hickey.”

You bite back a smirk, your teeth grazing his jaw before whispering, “I don’t care.”

His response is swift and deliberate. The hand that had been teasing between your thighs moves, strong fingers wrapping around your throat in a firm but unyielding grip. He pulls you back from his neck, forcing your gaze to lock with his. The intensity in his dark eyes makes your breath hitch, and the way his thumb brushes the underside of your jaw sends a thrill down your spine.

“Don’t be like this, baby,” he rasps, his tone commanding but laced with affection, his thumb brushing lightly over the delicate skin of your throat.

He leans in, drawing you closer by the grip on your neck, his lips brushing yours so faintly it feels like a tease.

The tickle of his mustache against your skin makes you shiver, your thighs twitching in anticipation. The ache between your legs grows unbearable, and your mind spins with the need to feel him—any part of him. His pretty mouth, his strong hands, his delicious cock… you’d take it all, every piece of him until there was nothing left to take.

“Please,” you whisper, desperation dripping from your voice as you close the sliver of space between you and kiss him. It starts soft, your tongue gliding along his bottom lip before slipping into his mouth, tasting him deeply. He responds with a low groan, his tongue tangling with yours, and the hand at your neck tightens just enough to make your head spin.

You moan into his mouth, your free hand sliding down the front of his shirt, savoring the hard planes of his chest. Your fingers flirt with the cool metal of his belt buckle before venturing lower, cupping his hardening length through his slacks.

The sultry sound that escapes him urges you to palm him, your touch deliberate as you apply more pressure, delighting in the way he twitches beneath your hand.

His hips shift involuntarily, and you squirm on his lap, the dampness between your thighs growing as your neglected pussy aches for attention.

Javier breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down to your jawline, then back to your mouth, where he bites and nips at your bottom lip. His hand moves from your throat to your chest, cupping and kneading your tits through the fabric of your shirt. The feeling has you arching into him, silently begging for more as your nipples pucker.

When his hand slides back between your legs, you let out a shaky breath, your head falling to his shoulder. His thumb traces a teasing line up your soaked slit, the fabric of your panties doing nothing to dull the feeling. He alternates between feather-light touches and firm squeezes of your thighs, keeping you trembling and needy in his lap.

You latch onto his lips again, kissing him feverishly, your desperation bleeding into every movement. The air between you is electric, the sound of wet kisses and shared breaths filling the room. Javier doesn’t pull away, doesn’t rush you—he matches your pace, taking everything you’re giving him and giving it back tenfold.

His thumb circles your clit over your panties, drawing a gasp from your lips that he swallows with a grin. “You’re so wound up, cariño,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. “Can’t even think straight, can you?”

You shake your head, a breathy moan spilling from your mouth as he continues to toy with you, always a tease.

Javier’s dark eyes flick up to yours, filled with that commanding intensity that never fails to make your stomach flip. “Sit on the desk.”

Without hesitation, you do as he says, sliding off his lap and onto the edge of the polished wood, your palms bracing against its surface.

You perch there, your knees drawn together, but the look in his eyes tells you he wants more.

Javier rolls his chair forward, the scrape of its legs on the floor adding to the charged atmosphere. He leans in, placing a gentle kiss on your knee. The warmth of his lips against your skin is welcomed, and when he taps your other knee with his fingers, you know exactly what he wants.

“Spread them, baby,” his command is like gravel smoothed by velvet. “Let me see how wet you are.”

Your heart races as you part your legs, the mess between them undeniable. His gaze drops, locking onto the damp spot that has already formed in the center of your panties. A wicked smile tugs at the corner of his lips, and he leans forward, pressing another kiss on your skin—this time on the inside of your knee.

His warm breath fans against your thigh as he drags his tongue along its length, stopping just short of where you ache for him most.

His curved nose nudges against your cunt, and you gasp softly, the intimate gesture making you feel hot all over. He inhales deeply, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as if savoring the scent of you. “Tan rica, amor.”

Javier’s tongue presses against the fabric of your panties, licking a broad, wet stripe that has you quivering under his touch. Your elbows give slightly as you lean back, surrendering to him wholly.

He hums in satisfaction, his hands firm on your thighs to keep you steady and spread as he works you over by tonguing at you over the fabric.

When he hooks a finger under the edge of your panties and pulls them aside, the cool air hits your bare skin, making you whimper. His eyes darken at the sight of your glistening folds, the damp curls surrounding your beautiful pussy, and he lowers his head again, delivering gentle kisses with his plush lips. 

The wet sounds of his mouth meeting your skin are indecently loud, and the lewd intimacy of it has your head tipping back, eyes fluttering shut.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he mutters, his voice muffled against you. “Miss her so much. Miss you.”

The affection in his words melts into the overwhelming pleasure as his tongue dips into your slit, circling your clit with unrelenting precision. A soft moan escapes your lips, and your thighs twitch beneath his touch, unable to resist the way he knows exactly how to undo you.

He grips you tighter, keeping you spread for him as his tongue delves deeper, tasting every heady inch of you. His groans vibrate against your sensitive skin, and the sheer devotion in his actions leaves you trembling, utterly at his mercy.

“Javi,” you moan, his name spilling from your lips as he devours you with an unrelenting hunger. The coarseness of his mustache against your slick folds sends jolts of pleasure through your body, and your hips buck upwards, desperate to feel more of him.

When his teeth graze your swollen clit, you yelp, the sharp edge sensation of it making your back arch as you fall flat against the desk. The crumple of papers beneath you is barely a thought in your mind, overwhelmed as you are by the pleasure of his ministrations.

Your fingers find their way into his hair, tangling in the soft brown curls and tugging hard.

He groans against you, the vibration an added stimulant from the amazing head he’s always giving you. “Oh yes, Javi, just like that,” you gasp, urging him on as your thighs tremble.

His lips close around your clit, sucking harshly, and you feel your breath lodge in your throat. Then he shakes his head, the movement rough and deliberate, and the friction of his facial hair combined with the firm press of his nose against your most sensitive spot has you spiraling.

“Oh fuck!” you cry out, your body trembling as the tension inside you winds tighter and tighter, especially when he stuffs his tongue inside of your fluttering hole, fucking you with it.

Javier pulls back just enough to spit on your cunt, the lewd sound making your body crave him more. His fingers slide through the mix of saliva and your creamy arousal, swirling it around the mouth of your cunt before he plunges two thick fingers deep inside you.

Your back bows off the desk, a yelp tearing from your lips as he sets a rhythm that’s both rough yet fulfilling. His fingers curl and twist just right, pressing against that spot that makes your entire body vibrate and colorful spots dot your vision.

He doesn’t relent, his mouth is back on your clit in an instant, his tongue flicking over it with a precision born from all the hours he’s spent learning your body.

The combined assault of his mouth and fingers is too much and not enough all at once. You’re drowning in the sensations, every nerve alight as he drives you closer to the edge with every pump, every lick. “Javi,” you choke out, your nails scraping against his scalp as the heat in your core threatens to spill over. “I’m gonna—”

He hums against you, doubling down on his efforts as if daring you to let go, and with one final wet, hot suck, you do.

Your orgasm crashes over you, ripping through your body in waves that leave you crying out his name, utterly undone in his hands.

When he pulls away, a glistening string of your essence clings to his swollen lips. His tongue sweeps it up eagerly, savoring you with a deep, satisfied hum, as if he hadn’t just devoured you from the inside out.

You barely register the clink of his belt being undone, the metallic sound followed by the soft rustle of fabric as he pushes his pants down just enough to free himself. His cock stands thick and proud, the head flushed in an angry red and glistening with precum, his heavy balls hanging beneath it, full and ready.

The sight alone makes your mouth water and your cunt clench with fresh need.

Javier leans over you, capturing your lips in a messy, hungry kiss. The tangy taste of your arousal lingers on his tongue as it slides against yours, drawing a whimper from your throat.

His groan reverberates through you as he drags the velvety, swollen head of his cock along the sticky seam of your cunt, spreading your wetness and teasing your sensitive clit.

He swirls himself around your nub, igniting sparks all over your overstimulated body, then slaps the hot tip against your bundle of nerves, making you cry out. “Javi,” you gasp, your hips bucking toward him, desperate for more.

He finds your entrance, the warmth of you wrapping around him as he pushes in slowly, savoring every inch. The guttural sound he makes when he sinks into you is pure sin. “Always so wet and tight for me,” he grunts, his teeth gritting as your slick walls stretch to accommodate him.

You throw your head back, a litany of curses and pleas spilling from your lips. “Oh fuck—Javi—you feel so good. I need you to make me feel this for days.”

He growls low in his throat at your words, his hips pressing flush against yours as he fills you completely, the heat of his cock nestled deep within you. The damp fabric of your shirt clings to your sweat-slicked skin, but all you can focus on is the way he feels—how his cock seems to claim every part of you.

Javi kisses you again, rough and unrelenting, before standing to his full height, his strong hands gripping you as he adjusts your position.

Your hips dangle just over the edge of the desk, his hand squeezing the curve of your ass while the other slides beneath your shirt to cup your breast. His fingers find your nipple, tugging and rolling it as he begins to move, pulling out  almost completely, his cock glistening with your arousal before he slams back into you.

The wet, obscene sound of your bodies meeting fills the room, spurring him on. Your hips rise to meet his, finding a rhythm together that has both of you moaning unabashedly, the desk creaking beneath you. 

Your cries and his grunts blend into a symphony of lust. 

“That’s right, baby,” he says through clenched teeth, his hand leaving your breast to shove your shirt up, exposing your bare skin to his hungry gaze. His pupils dilate as he watches the bounce of your tits with each thrust, his cock sawing in and out of you relentlessly. “Fucking take it. Take all of me.”

You grab his hand, guiding it back to your chest. “Don’t stop,” you plead, holding his palm over your breast as your second orgasm builds, hot and insistent. “More, Javi—give me more.”

He nearly growls, his hands roaming over you feverishly before wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you upright. Your legs wrap around his hips, your arms clutching his shoulders as he fucks up into you. The change in angle is devastating, each thrust hitting deeper, making you go absolutely fucking crazy.

Your cries of his name are music to his ears, your nails raking down his back as your slickness drenches his cock, soaking the front of his thighs. His balls slap against your ass with every thrust, heavy with the promise of his release.

You bite down on his neck, your lips sucking at the spot he’d scolded you for earlier. He doesn’t stop you, though; if anything, the sharp sting of your teeth makes his own head spin. His hips snap harder, his breaths ragged against your ear. “Shit, amor—I’m close. But you first. I need to take care of you.”

Leaning back, you brace your palms on the desk, your hips swiveling against him as the tension inside you snaps. Your walls flutter and tighten around him, milking his cock as you gush, your release coating him in a creamy sheen.

“Javi!” you scream, your entire body trembling as you ride the wave of pleasure.

His dark brown eyes are glued to where your bodies are joined, watching the creamy ring of your slick coating his cock with every stroke. It’s too much for him, and he buries himself deep with a hoarse shout of your name, his thick, hot release spilling inside you in thick, satisfying spurts, filling you to the brim.

Both of you collapse against each other, breaths ragged and mingling as your high slowly fades. His cock softens inside you, but neither of you rushes to pull away.

“It just gets better every time,” he murmurs, his lips peppering affectionate kisses along your neck and jaw before capturing your lips in a tender kiss.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp as he sighs contentedly. “Now,” you murmur, your voice soft and teasing, “will you come to bed?”

He pulls back just enough to brush his nose against yours, his lips curving into a smirk before stealing one last kiss. “Of course, mi amor.”

[syd-djarin]

nut vid with the sound on

frankie "catfish" morales x f!reader

You accidently send Frankie a text that he wasn't supposed to see.

~1.5k words

tags: EXPLICIT, accidently sending a screenshot meant for someone else, reader is feral (she just like me), sexting, mention of light choking, virtual mutual masturbation (m & f!), flirting, Frankie is a consent king!, dirtyyyy talk, voice notes, nudes, nut vid with the sound on, they're so horny for each other

this is my first Frankie fic and I've been thoroughly enjoying myself in the Catfish Pond ;) I hope y'all like the text format, I had fun writing it like this. special shoutout to my babe @almostempty !!! she matches my freak, feeds my delusions & sparks my horny thots. thank you for cheering me on and helping with the dialogue I love you LOTS <3333

consulted this page for spanish used :)

translations:

princesa - princess

tócame - touch me

que cosa/cosita mas linda - what a pretty/pretty little thing

mierda - shit

ay dios - oh god

hazme el amor - make love to me

banners by: @cafekitsune <3

smut below the cut, y'all know the drill!

Frankie: You coming tomorrow? 

You: Yes, of course :) 

Frankie: Good. 

Bestie: bitch if you don’t make a move on fish

Bestie: It’s been months!!! Find out why they call him Catfish ;) 

You: STOPPPP 

You: you’re right tho I am dying to know

You: Wanna suck his dick til the skin falls OFF 

You caption the screenshot of Frankie’s latest Instagram post and text it to your bestie who will appreciate your level of freakiness. 

You continue your scrolling. 

*ding* 

Frankie: I don't think this message was meant for me, princesa.  

Opening his text, you realize to your horror that you sent your thirsty thoughts TO Frankie. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuuuuuck!

You: shit, I’m SO so so incredibly sorry! Totally inappropriate and not cool. I definitely meant to send that to someone else. Totally exiling myself from the group. 

Frankie: You meant to tell someone else that you wanna suck my dick til the skin falls off? 

You: It wasn’t for you. Please forget you saw it. Please Frankie :( 

Frankie: hell of a thing to send to someone. how am I supposed to forget the idea now?

You: Pretend. It was a mistake. 

Frankie: a mistake? as in, you didn’t mean it? 

You: Can we drop it? 

Frankie: seemed pretty specific for a mistake. you got freaky with it

You: It doesn’t matter. It was stupid. Please let it go 

Frankie: I don’t think I can, princesa

Frankie: not after imagining it 

Frankie: You sent a whole screenshot, with a colorful caption attached. That's intentional.

If you weren’t so humiliated, you’d be giggling and kicking your feet in the air that he is calling you princess, but you can only assume he is being patronizing. 

You: This is so fucking embarrassing. 

Frankie: Not too embarrassed to keep texting though…

You: Frankie don’t 

Frankie: You really think about me like that? 

You: I think you already know the answer to that

Frankie: I do, but I wanted to hear it from you. This time directly to me

Frankie: I think about you 

Frankie: All the time

You: Frankie, please. 

You: I already feel terrible 

Frankie: Never thought you’d see me like that. Now you’re telling me you’ve been thinking about my cock? and you want me to drop it? 

You: Please don’t fuck with me. I’m already mortified beyond belief like I can’t show my face around here anymore!! I’m sorry I sent it okay? 

You: I’ll skip the kickback if it's going to be too weird now. 

Frankie: Wouldn’t be the same without you there. I’d never tell you not to come. 

Frankie: If you really want me to drop it, I will. just say the word 

Frankie: but you should know

Frankie: I think you’re gorgeous, hilarious, too fucking smart to be hanging out with us  

Frankie: I lose my mind goddamn mind when I’m near you 

Frankie: and knowing you’ve been thinking about me too has me hard as a fucking rock 

You: Do you really mean that? 

Frankie: Yes I do, baby. You have no idea what you do to me 

You: Yeah? I might need some enlightenment. 

There’s a pause. You brace for impact; that he is really pulling your leg and he and the guys are doubled over laughing at your expense. 

Frankie: Might be better if you hear it straight from the Fish’s mouth

Frankie: Get it? Like horse’s mouth but it’s a fish instead 

You: I hate to admit I did one of those huff exhales that you do when something is amusing but not quite funny enough to warrant a full laugh

Frankie: At least you smiled. That’s good enough for me

Frankie: Sending a voice note, is that okay? 

You: Of course

Then the notification for a voice memo appears. Your fingers hover over the screen before you press play and Frankie’s low, gravelly voice spills into your ears. 

“Bebita, you have no fucking idea how long I’ve wanted this. I’ve been yours since I first laid eyes on you…You’ve got me sitting here in my truck, trying to keep my shit together, but all I can think about is you on your knees for me. Told the guys I had to take a call… they’d give me shit right now if they knew… they’ve been ribbing me for months to ask you out but I was too chicken shit… way too pretty for me… definitely funnier and smarter than me, but you should know I’m not intimidated by that it's fucking hot… Fuck you’d look so good for me. I’d slide my cock into your mouth so slow, watch your lips stretch around me. You have the prettiest eyes and lips, you’d be heaven down on your knees for me…Shit, I’d lose my mind watching you take it. You’d look so pretty with your mouth full of me, baby. So fucking pretty.” 

Frankie: Are you touching yourself? Tell me, pretty girl 

You: And if I was?

Frankie: Good girl 

Frankie: What are you thinking? How do you feel?

You: So so good, Frankie

You: Thinking about your big strong hands all over me has me drooling baby

Another voice memo appears. When you press play, there’s a groan—a low, throaty sound that makes your entire body shiver. 

“You been thinking about my hands, princesa? Want me to hold those pretty tits with my hands, hmmm? Play with your nipples, massage them…maybe you’d like one of my hands gently pressing into the sides of your throat… if you’re into it of course!” 

Frankie’s urgency to make sure you’re into that sort of thing makes you smile. The caring, thoughtful Frankie that you know. 

“I am so hard for you– ay dios!…Thinking about you sitting on my face, trapped underneath your gorgeous thighs… make you come all over my face. Need you to make a mess on me… rub your pretty little clit on my nose, that’s why I have this big nose… so you can use it fuuuuuuuck…”

His voice grows rougher, more ragged. You can hear the slick, clapping sounds and his breathing. Heavy and uneven. 

“Mierda, I’m so fucking close, wish you were here baby–unghhhhh… wanna feel you around me, your pussy squeezin’ my cock… make you come ‘til you’re begging me to stop… do whatever you ask me to…”

You: Show me. I want to see Frankie, please 

Frankie: Wanna hear you say it in your pretty voice 

Frankie: Let me hear you beg all sweet like for me and I’ll show you what you do to me 

You: “Frankie ohhhhh baby I need you so bad… tócame, Frankie, por favor…Always think about climbing in your lap, running my hands through those— ahhhhhh!— curls, wanna feel how deep you get when I ride you… wanna feel you in my goddamn throat — fuck, can you hear how wet I am? I’m making such a mess oh my godddddd… never been this fucking wet baby…”

Frankie: babygirl you’re gonna be the death of me

Frankie: love your voice and the pretty sounds your pussy is making for me 

You: can I send a video? 

Frankie: no pressure. only if you’re comfortable with it 😘

You: that’s not what I asked, Francisco

Frankie: I know you mean business when you use my government name 

Frankie: yeah baby i wanna see whatever you wanna show me 

You: Attachment: 1 Video 

“Hazme el amor, Frankie…” 

Your legs are spread open, your core on display for the camera. He smiles thinking you probably had to find something to prop your phone on. You’ve got two fingers teasing in and out of your glistening pussy.

Frankie: que cosa cosita más linda 

Frankie: You have the prettiest, messiest little pussy baby. Thank you for showing me. I can’t wait to taste her

Frankie: As promised, you want something in return for being such a good girl for me? 

You: yes please 😇

Frankie: sound up 😘

Attachment: 1 Video 

“Fuuuuuuck babygirl… see what you do to me… need to be close to you, need to feel you… make you feel good like you deserve… this is all for you, I am all for you baby…”

Frankie has his cock pulled out of his unzipped jeans, still in his truck, pumping himself. You admire the size and girth of him, so thick and gorgeous. You know the sting and stretch of him entering you for the first time will be delicious. It’s so hot knowing he had to slip away from the guy's night to relieve himself—couldn’t even wait til he got home. 

“Been dreaming of you for months, always imagine you when I’m touching myself, you’re in all my thoughts baby… mierda I’m gonna come, fuck baby—unghhhhhh— gonna come so hard for you — ohhhhhhhh fuck…” 

Thick ropes of cum drip down his hand, where he’s slowly riding out his high, breath heaving in exhaustion. 

You: I think I just blacked out 

You: I came so hard watching you fuck

Frankie: Such a good girl, baby. You did so good making yourself come 

Frankie: Drink some water 😘

You: Thank you Frankie :) 🩷

You: chugging some water as we speak🫡 

Frankie: that’s my girl 

Frankie: get some sleep, I’ll be seeing you tomorrow 😘😘

BONUS: frankie's insta

tagging babes who might enjoy: @katiexpunk @evolnoomym @studioghibelli @joelmillerisapunk @joelslegalwhre @sanarsi @tightjeansjavi @milly-louise <3333

@pedrostories

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Pretty much, yeah! Although to be completely honest, I'm a one man kind of gal, and Frankie is the only one for me 🥰 Although I wouldn't say no to Joel if he came by after Frankie went back to work...

Thanks for reading!

Lunchtime quickie with the PP lads

Just something I thought important.

General warning for sex and stuff.

Javi: Wham bam thank you ma'am. It's over in ten minutes. Has one post-coital cigarette for lunch before returning to work.

Frankie: Will spend his whole lunch break eating you out, calls it "the best meal I ever had", and promises to bang you properly when he gets home tonight. Leaves in a hurry, already late, with a sammich in his hand and an erection in his pants.

Pero: Stuffs himself, then takes a nap. Wants you on his dick when he wakes up, though.

Marcus P: Praises you for the lovely meal before taking you to the bedroom for a quick and sweet fuck. Is back at the office within the hour.

Joel: Fucks you on the kitchen table as soon as he gets home. Something falls to the floor and shatters. Eats like starving man after. Will kiss you until your toes curl before going back to work.

Marcus Moreno: Eats, and takes care of the dishes. You're the one who surprises him by the sink by getting on your knees. He catches on quickly, though.

Dieter: Always up for trying new things. Eats his veggies like a good boy, off of you. Has you squirting all over the table, and laps it all up, the nasty critter.

Tim: Head full of case, forgets to come home. You know this, so you bring a meal over to the precinct, locking yourself up in his office with him, and ride him in his office chair. You see to it that he eats after.

Dave: Has you all wet and trembling for him from sexting by the time he steps through the door. Tortures you by eating slowly while talking to you about this and that, like it's any normal lunch. Gets you off on the worktop after, twice, all the while telling you what a good wife you are.

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

You look like a fun place to sit.

Gif credits

Pairing: Neighbor!Frankie Morales x f!reader

Words count: 2667

Rating: + 18, MDNI

Summary: You decide to enjoy a night at the movies, your neighbor Frankie ruins it all. Or maybe not?

Tags: pov second person, no use of y/n, fluff, sort of romcom vibes (?), smut, enemies to lovers, age unspecified but they are both full grown adults, Frankie is annoying but also cute and lovely and fucking gorgeous, reader has hair, breasts and vagina, other than that no other description of her is given, fingering (f receiving), sexual acts in public places (again? Again. I'm not even particularly interested in doing that irl I don't know what to say to you, please forgive me), pet names (honey, baby, princess), arguing, kissing, no use of Spanish because I terribly suck at it and I don't want to butcher another language LOL. If by chance I realize I forgot something I'll add it right away.

It’s my first Frankie ff and I’m so incredibly nervous to post it you all! I really hope it doesn’t sucks because I had so much fun writing it today in one sitting ‘cause I’m just an impulsive impatient mess. (Leo sun and Aries moon, what do you expect from me if not chaos? I had nothing a few hours ago, I even skipped WIP Wednesday and btw thanks for the tag @almostempty 🩷)

Title comes from a gif of Karen Walker from Will and Grace that I saw last night, it made me laugh a lot and this thing was born LOL

As usual, English is not my first language so please be gentle, no beta and no proofreading, it’s tiny and it’s all my fault, I’m sorry 💀 Thanks to anyone who will read this!

Archive tags: @pedrostories ♥️

“Excuse me, you should stand up, that’s my seat” 

Frankie turns, looking at you with a surprised expression “I don’t think so, you’re wrong” he replies. 

Ugh, your neighbor.

Frankie lives two houses away from you. Last winter you had a fight at a neighborhood meeting because you pointed out that he keeps forgetting to put the recycling bins back in, and he told you to mind your own business and called you an hysterical witch.

A stupid fight that ended up with you not saying hello to each other and various other arguments about your flashy Christmas lights or his overgrown yard. You and Frankie fight constantly, about everything. And now he's here.

You glare at him “I’m not wrong at all, look” and you wave your ticket under his nose “P10, see? It’s my seat and you’re rude”. 

A grin spreads across his face “listen, honey, I don’t know where you got this ticket, you probably made it yourself, I bought it a moment ago and it’s the same seat” 

He takes a card out of his pocket and hands it to you, remaining comfortably seated with a large popcorn box. 

You look at the ticket, him again, the ticket again “how the hell is that possible?! I booked it on their website a week ago” 

He sneers “I told you! It must be a system error, I don’t know, I’m not getting up from here”

You are furious. The theater is filling up and you absolutely don’t want to leave, you have been waiting for this movie for months and you have inspected the theater map choosing a seat that would guarantee you the very best view.

“I bought it first, so I have more right to be here than you do,” you say firmly and Frankie laughs. 

“Where are we, elementary school? Listen, honey, go buy yourself another ticket and leave me alone.” He replies crunching on popcorn.

The way he calls you “honey” irritates you deeply, it sounds like an insult.

“I’m not going anywhere, YOU get the fuck out of here” you hiss. 

“No” he simply replies and then he turns back at the screen pretending you’re not there. 

“Truly a gentleman, as usual. I have no words.” you roll your eyes and search for an usher to ask for help. No one is there. 

The movie starts in 5 minutes and you don’t want to miss anything you paid for. If you went to the box office right now to complain it would take forever to get back in. 

“Fuck” you exclaim and sit down next to him huffing. You are sure that someone will make you get up very early and it pisses you off.

Frankie continues to nibble on his popcorn and looks at you with an extremely amused expression, it seems like the show has become you.

“Why do you care so much about this movie anyway?” he asks you. “Does any of your relatives happen to be in it?“ 

You’re fuming. 

His teasing tone, his vaguely Spanish accent, his smirk, the sound of him chewing, everything bothers you.

“No. Shut the fuck up” you tell him with a death stare. 

You won’t tell him that your favorite actor stars in it, that you have every photo from the set of this movie saved on your phone, that you’ve read every article about it, and that you couldn’t wait to enjoy it on the first day of screening.

You can already hear his raucous laughter. No, you would never tell Frankie anything like that.

“You're not one of that guy's crazy fans, are you?” 

“What guy?” you ask him, pretending not to know what he's talking about. “Gladiator is one of my favorite movies, that's all. I just wanted to watch the sequel in peace. Someone is stopping me, though” 

“That guy, I bet you like him, what’s his name? Paul Pascal?” he stares at you searching for every little involuntary movement on your face that might give you away. 

“Oh for God’s sake, what are you doing here anyway? Do you even know what you're about to see? They are Paul Mescal and Pedro Pascal, two different people, you uncultered swine.” You yell. This guy is impossible.

“Yeah, whatever, so which one do you fancy?”

“Fucking nobody” you lie “I just want to watch a movie after a horrible week at work, okay?” You try to play on his guilt. If he has one, you think.

“Well, I've had a rough week too, okay?” he shrugs without stopping to give you that annoying little smile. “And it's not my fault that this theater is having problems with its computer system.”

You glance at him, wondering if he's telling the truth, it's impossible to guess from his face.

People keep sitting in the front rows and you start hoping that luck will be on your side and that no one will make you get up.

“Okay, look, now we're going to watch this movie and then we'll go our separate ways, please don't bother me anymore"

“As you wish, princess” he replies ironically.

You don't even answer him, you're too busy checking that no other people come in.

Finally the opening credits start to roll and the doors close with a dull thud.

You made it, despite this unbearable guy, you feel victorious.

You begin to relax in your chair and you don't know why you turn to look at him, lingering on his face for the first time in months.

His eyes are fixed on the screen. In the dim light you observe his raven curly hair tucked under his baseball cap, his dark eyes, the line of his prominent nose, his scruffy beard, his mustache, just above a pair of lips that seem made for kissing.

Really, truly, gorgeous.

You're so busy arguing with him all the time that you never realized how handsome he is.

He's wearing a grey t-shirt and a pair of jeans, you can’t help but admire the way the fabrics hug his body so deliciously. 

He’s just your type, built up in all the right ways, you find yourself unable to take your eyes off him until the last second. Then the movie starts and you look away.

He’s still your number one enemy, what the hell were you thinking?

When Pedro first appears, you shift in your seat, crossing your legs.

“FUCK” you scream internally “here we go”

Unbelievably stunning in his armor, you’re basically drooling. 

You try to stay as composed as possible but Frankie is next to you and notices.

He comes closer to you and whispers in your ear “So it was all about this guy… the fuss before” You feel one of his large hand brushing your arm that is resting on the armchair and you try with all your strength to remain still even if he causes a storm inside you and especially in your panties. 

“Shut. Up.” You hiss, without moving your gaze. You feel his breath on your skin and it’s intoxicating. 

He chuckles “Yeah, that was I was thinking” and throws another popcorn into his mouth.

Your cheeks burn and you're thankful you're in the cinema, in the dark.

“What’s so special about this guy?” Frankie approaches again “is his penis platinum by any chance? All my female colleagues at work are crazy about him”

You turn to look at him with the desire to slap him “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” 

“Okay, okay, I was just asking”

You hate people talking at the movies. You wonder if you could have a more annoying guy than Frankie next to you. Probably. 

Hotter? Probably not.

This dude hits on your last nerve but he makes you horny at the same time. 

Terrible combination. 

Frankie settles back into his seat and resumes watching the film.

You can't help but look at him from time to time and your desire grows. even if you're offended that he didn't even offer you his popcorn. Rude. 

His mouth pouted and his eyebrows furrowed as he seems all focused on the movie makes you want to cup his face and kiss him.

You can still feel the warmth of his hand on your arm and his breath on your neck.

Concentrate, you tell yourself, it's the neighbor you hate, the neighbor you hate, the neighbor you hate. Fuck. You want him so bad. This revelation drives you crazier than Pedro half naked on screen.

At a particularly bloody scene you involuntarily turn around and hide your face on his shoulder.

You feel his arm around you “hey, it’s okay. I’ll tell you when it’s over” and he holds you tight the whole time.

He smells clean and fresh, like citrus and sage with a light hint of cigarette that you assume he smoked right before entering. 

Your mind goes fuzzy and your pulse races at an impossibly high rate. 

“You can look now” and it takes you a few seconds too long to register his words. 

“Th-Thanks” you mutter, shifting back to your place. 

Halfway through the movie the lights come back on and Frankie bursts out laughing looking at you. “What?” you ask him with wide eyes “what is it that makes you laugh so much?”

“Your face” he grins “it's clearly painted on it how much you want that guy. He turns you on, huh?”

You roll your eyes “Oh my God! Can't you go sit somewhere else? Two rows down, look how many free seats there are”

“I like it better here” 

You cuss, there’s no way to get rid of him.

He has something magnetic that destabilizes you, your eyes fall involuntarily on his neck, slide along his broad chest and stop at the crotch of his pants. From the way he sits you can clearly see that he is quite big.

“What are you looking at?” he asks you amusedly. 

You immediately look up. “Nothing” 

“Nothing my ass. Did you like what you saw?” 

Fuck. He noticed. You're done for. You hate to make him understand that after all, yes, you like what you saw. He seems pleased, proud, you would so much like to wipe that little smile off his face. As much as you struggle to admit it to yourself, you like him.

“Well, maybe…after all, you look like a fun place to sit” 

You can't believe you actually said that.

Frankie's response is not long in coming, his eyes immediately darken and his smile twists in a mischievous way.

The lights go out again and you feel him tug gently on your arm “come here, pretty”

He sits you down on his lap and as the movie starts again he whispers “was that what you wanted the whole time? Were you offended that I didn’t invite you?” you can clearly feel his smile spread across your skin just before he places his lips on your neck.

You would like to say something back but his closeness makes you confused and excited.

He sucks your skin like he's hungry and you moan in the dark "shh baby you gotta stay quiet while I give you what you want”

You don't know how but you find the strength to reply, "God, you're so arrogant.”

He tightens his hands on your hips, pulling you towards him, now you are practically sitting on his cock. You feel it pressing against your ass, trapped in his pants.

A rush of pleasure wets your pussy and you bite your lips to hold back another moan, you hear his hoarse voice in your ear “Maybe. You like it though” You hate to admit that he is right. 

The heat of his body envelops you pleasantly, he raises a hand to one of your breasts and squeezes it over your shirt. You like his hands. They are big, expert and eager to touch you, they make your head spin. 

You completely forgot about the movie, which seemed impossible to you, if they had told you you would have laughed in their face. In no universe would you have expected this.

“God” you whine “oh my God” His hand slides under your shirt and reveals your breast pulling down your bra, it is still covered but now you can feel his skin against yours. His fingers gently grasp one of your nipples, pulling and twisting it.

“Open your eyes, baby. Watch the movie like a good girl” his voice sounds authoritative, it irritates you and another rush of pleasure floods you at the same time.

“It’s not that easy” you mutter between your teeth as you feel his other hand dangerously approaching the hem of your skirt. He slowly goes up, as you try to hold back and make sure no one notices what he’s doing to you. Luckily, everyone seems enthralled by the film.

At this moment you don't even know why you started arguing so fiercely, if you had known before you would have tried to smooth things over a long time ago.

His fingers reach your panties, you feel them barely touching you and you already feel yourself burning with anticipation.

They move under your skirt, pushing your panties aside, grazing at your outer lips and then dipping inside you “Fuck, you’re soaking” 

He moves them up and down between your folds, gathering your wetness towards your clit.

You feel his heavy breathing on your neck, his tongue running over your skin and his teeth nibbling on you.

“Fuck, Frankie” you cry 

“Eyes to the movie”

You want to turn around and straddle him but there isn't enough room and Frankie holds you firmly anyway.

He applies pressure on your clit just right, starting to move two of his thick fingers in circle over it, the motion of his hand is partially hidden by the fabric of your skirt and your moans die in your throat one after the other. Frankie is rubbing away your sanity, you feel possessed and delirious under his touch.

Your last shred of control is torn by his fingers entering inside you, claiming your cunt as his, curling and scratching at your spongy spot.

Your eyes are still fixed on the screen but your vision is totally blurred, you see nothing, you understand nothing, you only feel Frankie pumping incessantly inside you while continuing to rub your clit with his thumb.

You feel the soft reverberation of his voice behind you, close to your ear “good girl, you're taking me so well”

The subtle Spanish accent in his voice now seems to you the most erotic sound in the world, sweet, melodious, addictive.

He takes you to the edge, you throw your head on his shoulder, shutting your eyes so everything goes black and you only feel him, until even biting your lips doesn't help anymore. He covers your mouth with his hand as you explode in a devastating orgasm, you moan against his skin, between his thick fingers that have just left your breast and you already miss them, feeling full and satiated by him.

He uncovers your mouth and kisses your neck, pressing his hand to your hip to keep you from slipping off his lap as your body trembles against his.

“Shit” you mutter “Frankie…oh my god”

“Do you think we can stop arguing all the time now?” He playfully says as he nuzzles at your hair.

“I don’t like being told what to do unless I’m naked, you know, I’m just like that” you reply, grinning and turning around to finally fix your eyes on his. 

“I noticed it”

You take off his cap laughing and put it on backwards and before he starts to protest you kiss him deeply, licking into his mouth, tasting butter and salt on his tongue.

“Take me home”

“The movie isn't over yet,” Frankie observes, and you reply, “that means you'll have to take me to see it again and you’ll pay”

“Fine to me, princess” 

[munsonpetal]

joel miller x reader fic rec list

smut !!

angst ☁︎

fluff ♡

last updated: dec 7

3 or more parts

masterlist @pedrospatch

masterlist @pedgito

masterlist @kiwisbell

put your sweet lips on my lips !! @thetriumphantpanda

he won't ever kiss you, those are the rules, but you fall in love with him anyway.

my joel, !!☁︎♡ @tightjeansjavi

the story of two forbidden lovers finding each other once more.

by the grit of sandpaper !!☁︎♡ @penvisions

joel miller is a gruff as they come, the world having changed him for the worst. but settling in jackson with his brother changed him for the better. he’s known around town as someone to help, whether it be with home repairs, construction, and hand carved trinkets. an offhand comment from you inspires him to branch out and create helpful kitchen wares. and it seems everyone has been gifted one from him, except for you. it makes you rethink the casual friendship you had developed with the man that had just begun to expand beyond patrols.

confused warmth !!☁︎♡ @rise-my-angel

daydreams ��� @morning-star-joy

it’s been years since joel’s kissed anybody, and your lips are all he can think about.

plum !!☁︎♡ @thyme-in-a-bubble

“fuck…” all the air escaped Tommy’s lungs, “I thought she was dead…” his glistening eyes didn’t rip away from your frame for even a second as he revealed, “yeah… yeah, I know her. She’s like family.”

ma’am !! @mssalo

joel miller’s spent a lifetime in control, but under your confident lead, he’s discovered just how good it feels to let go. as your right-hand man in jackson, he’s desperate to please, finding himself worshiping you in ways he’s never dared before—and loving every filthy second of it.

never made it as a wise man !! @almostempty

joel solves your car troubles for free, and you try to return the favor with a homecooked meal. when you accidentally interrupt his jerkoff session, you take a chance and help him out.

but he’s the one i want !!☁︎♡ @wheresarizona

all you needed was to see if your dad’s friend, joel, had a spare key to your father’s house. instead, you get railed within an inch of your life on joel’s couch. 

whiskey sour !!☁︎♡ @/kiwisbell

reuniting with your estranged father while you finish college in austin has unintended consequences. his best friend, for one.

heavenly bound !! @ozarkthedog

the world crumbled before you could experience the touch of another. Joel does his best to keep you innocent for as long as he can.

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Happy Thanksgiving/November 28!

Ignoring the Thanksgiving "America Rules" whitewashing when we committed atrocities against the true Americans. I will take a moment to be thankful for what I have today. I am very thankful this year for all of the friends I've made and all of the stories I've gotten to share with y'all. Not to be too dramatic or get too real but this year hasn't been the easiest for me and having this little website and community sure has put salve on some of the sadness. Let's go forth and keep supporting each other and making a community that we can all be thankful for.

I invited some guys over for dinner. Who are you having for dessert?

Forever the most grateful for @ohheypedrito and our friendship.

Tagging some people invited to the party whose invitations never made it to them. Next time I won't have Dieter in charge of mail. (If I forgot you, I am sorry... the parade is distracting me.)

@magpiepills, @schnarfer, @mothandpidgeon, @devineconjuring, @beefrobeefcal

@sawymredfox, @bitchesuntitled, @goodwithcheese, @secretelephanttattoo, @jolapeno

@maggiemayhemnj, @yourcoolauntie, @yopossum, @ace-turned-confused, @jennaispunk

@artsy-girl-76, @justagalwhowrites, @sixhours, @timelordfreya, @hellfire-state-of-mind

@tinytinymenace, @perotovar, @mando-abs, @littlemisspascal, @luxurychristmaspudding

@guiltyasdave, @yxtkiwiyxt, @morallyinept, @itwasntimethatdidit40, @rulexofxnines

@grogusmum, @jessthebaker, @javierpena-inatacvest, @covetyou, @theetherealbloom

@quinnnfabrgay, @joelalorian, @almostfoxglove, @almostempty, @604to647

@thundermartini, @evolnoomym, @the-mandawhor1an, @mysterious-moonstruck-musings, @for-a-longlongtime

@baronessvonglitter, @80ssong, @lokischocolatefountain, @pedropeach, @tonysopranosrobe

@moonlitbirdie, @wannab-urs, @daddydindjarin, @sunshinehaze1, @sizzlingcloudmentality

@mountainsandmayhem, @murder-wife, @shchristine, @jksprincess10, @qveerthe0ry

@plasticpascal, @chippedowlmug, @reddedmiller, @pedgito, @undutchable11

@sp00kymulderr, @yorksgirl, @clawdee, @strang3lov3, @survivingandenduring

@lorettafudge, @burntheedges, @msjarvis, @la-vie-est-une-fleur29, @skbeaumont

@tightjeansjavi, @mrsmando, @penvisions, @scp116, @polaroidpascal

@harriedandharassed, @romanarose, @arcanefox207, @pedrospatch

[bitchesuntitled]

Heyyooooo

So here’s the deal. This past year has been a big one for me. Actively joining a fandom instead of just lurking about, making new friends and not only that but I decided to quit drinking after too long of doing it in an unhealthy way! Today actually marks 135 days sober(according to my app that’s a milestone- who knew). It’s stupid looking back now at the shit I did because I had the perfect example as to why I shouldn’t drink aaaand I still followed the cycle. Thanks dad!

Anyways, I wanted to do something fun for next month because:

It’ll be 5 months of no drinking for me 🎉

November is my birthday month and I’m selfish 😅

Dieter is my favorite and did I mention I’m selfish? 🤔

So! If you’d like to do something for it I present to you GET DIETER SOBER I’ll be making a masterlist of all the fun creative things people create! Make an edit, make a moodboard, make a fic! Make it happy, make it sad, make it funny, make it however you think Dieter should get sober! Anything you want! Tag me and use the hashtag #getdietersober ❤️❤️❤️

Tagging some moots who may be interested/maybe help spread the word? No biggie if you don’t though! 🥰 @beefrobeefcal @strang3lov3 @noxturnalpascal @goodwithcheese @whocaresstillthelouvre @yopossum @covetyou @javierpena-inatacvest @mothandpidgeon @almostempty @ace-turned-confused @maggiemayhemnj @tinytinymenace @morallyinept

[xdaddysprincessxx]

Princess Treatment

Surprise! @almostempty I’m your secret santa!!! I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it(:

Dave York x Nanny!reader x Frankie Morales

Warnings: 18+, SMUT. We’ve got infidelity (dave is married w/kids hence the need for a nanny) threesome, two splash’s of cuck, a small side of pre ejaculation, double penetration, sprinkle of hidden camera, a facial and I think I got everything. Not beta’d, lightly proofed by me. All mistakes are mine.

Wc: 3663

And now, time for the main event

Good ole suburbia. Home sweet home. Perfectly built houses lined up and down the street, all filled with perfect little families. Well behaved children played in the front yards. Neighbors would throw bbq’s in the summer and invite everyone over. Wife’s sending their husbands off to work in the morning. Picture perfect. Of course it’s all a facade. The big blue house tucked back in the cul de sac is home to the York family. Dave and his wife Carol and their two daughters Molly and Alice. To the outside world, they are a beautiful family. Doting father of two with a government job and subservient wife who takes care of the kids and keeps the house clean and dinner on the table by 5 oclock sharp every night. They hired you about a year ago as a live in nanny. Dave is frequently going on business trips and Carol decided she wanted to go back to work and she would need the help with the girls. They were a lovely couple when you first interviewed. You always felt a more warm welcome from Dave than Carol. It was like she had a bad taste in her mouth around you.

You tried your best to ignore the weird vibes you got from her since you were mostly around her on a daily basis. For the most part it wasn’t that bad and you got paid a very pretty penny too which absolutely helped. About a month into living at the York house, you accidentally overheard Dave and Carol arguing. They were trying to keep it hush but you could make out that Carol didn’t like that Dave paid you as much as he did. It seemed like she was overall just bothered by your presence. After that you kinda just kept your head down and did everything expected of you and kept to yourself. You were in charge of getting the girls up in the morning and on the school bus, getting them off the bus in the afternoon and getting them to all their extracurriculars. Not too hard.

After a full year being the York’s nanny, you’ve grown quite close to Molly and Alice. You and Carol are cordial. And then there’s Dave. If tall, mysterious and handsome were an actual person, it would be Dave. He has this aura about him. You could never fully explain it but you could feel it. When he was at home, you felt safe but also felt like you could never shake the feeling that his eyes were always on you somehow. Even when he was away, you could still feel his eyes on you but it wasn’t as strong as when he was home. You’ll never forget the day you caught him blatantly staring down your shirt. You had been wearing a simple black tshirt with a v neck. When you had caught him staring you couldn’t help but be shocked and he just smirked at you as if to say “Yea I’m looking and what are you gonna do about it.” That night you gave into your deepest desire and you got yourself off multiple times thinking of Dave. Your poor fingers were cramped but you kept going. You’d been attracted to him since day 1 but you buried it deep due to the whole he’s a married man thing. You thought of his thick fingers fucking you, how he’d feel coming up behind you, bending you over and just making you take every inch of his dick. You fantasized him using you whenever, wherever. You came thinking about how good he’d feel as you cockwarmed him after a long day at the office.

There was a change in the air the next morning after this. It was a Sunday, which is your off day. You woke up around 6:30am, rolled out of bed and into the shower before getting dressed in a simple, cute black tshirt dress. As you walked down the stairs and towards the kitchen, you noticed it was quiet. Quieter than normal for a Sunday morning in a household with two kids. No cartoons playing, no toys going off, no arguing over who’s turn it is to play with whatever the girls are currently obsessed with. As you rounded the corner, you saw Dave sitting at the kitchen table, wearing a dark blue t-shirt and grey sweatpants with his hair still tousled from sleep.

“Good morning sleeping beauty, I know todays your day off but Carol decided to take the girls to go visit her parents last night so it’s just the two of us today.”

“Oh okay I was curious about the quiet.” You said with a soft giggle as you smiled at Dave before looking down at your feet. As hot as Dave is, it’s hard for you to hold eye contact with him for long. He has a strong, intimidating stare.

Dave goes to stand up and walks over to where your standing,

“Please, help yourself to anything in here. I’m sure you probably know what’s in here more than I do,” he chuckled, “if you need me I’ll be in my office.”

Looking up at him, you gulped and nodded, “Thank you Mr. York.”

Dave’s hand comes up to your face, his thumb and fore finger gently grab your chin as he makes you look at him.

“It’s Dave, sweet girl.”

“Dave” you repeat in a whisper. Knees weak from the proximity to your boss.

He flashes you a toothy smile and a wink before dropping his hand and stepping to the side to get around you to leave the kitchen.

The rest of the morning moves rather quietly into the afternoon when you hear a truck roar into the driveway. You sneak a peak out your bedroom window to see Dave’s friend, Frankie Morales, step out of his truck and make his way to the door on the side of the house that leads down into the basement. You’ve met Frankie a couple of times before. Old military buddy of Dave’s, pretty cute, single father of one. He doesn’t intimidate you like Dave does. He has a softer look, one that makes you wanna cook him meals and surprise him with head after work. You get the vibe he wouldn’t be the type to be overly dominant in the bedroom and on occasion that he does, he feels bad and apologizes immediately after. You like that though, you have a soft spot for men with a tough exterior that are really just big softies.

About an hour has passed since Frankie came over. You start to feel hungry so you decide to go see what Dave would like for dinner. As you go downstairs into the basement, you could hear music playing and the clank of balls being shot into the pockets of the pool table.

As you step off the last step before you even have time to make your presence known, both men stop what they’re doing and look up at you.

“Well speak of the devil, we were just talking about you princess. You’ve met my buddy Frankie before. Come on over, don’t be shy.” Dave has both hands on the pool table as he slightly leans over it. Frankie’s standing next to him, holding a pool stick. You cross the distance from the steps over to the pool table as you nibble on your bottom lip.

You stand across from the men and give them a soft smile as Dave picks up his stick and comes over by you. He lays his stick on the table just so and crouches down, getting eye level with the ball right before he pulls back and lets the stick shoot forward. His target falls into the corner pocket.

He looks up at you, smirking,

“You know how to play sweet girl?”

You shake your head no as Frankie comes over, now sandwiched between the two men.

“Here take my stick.” Frankie hands his stick over to you. As you grab it from him, his big hand covers yours as he reaches behind you and grabs your other hand and places it higher up on the stick. His broad frame covering you as he leans in closer, his face now next to yours.

“Bend down, you wanna be more eye level with the stick to see what angle it’ll hit the ball.”

“Okay” you say softly before taking your eyes off of him and bending over. Your eyes go wide as you feel his bulge press against your ass.

“Don’t overthink it too much or you’ll overshoot.” Dave’s smooth voice interrupted.

You can feel the heat of Dave’s body right next to you with Frankie’s body practically swallowing you whole. You try hard to focus on the game in front of you but in reality, you are zeroed in on the two men. Frankie moves the stick in your hands, you can feel it glide in between your fingers that are covered by his. Before you even realized, the stick shoots forward. The sound of the ball getting smacked and rolling into a pocket snapped you out of this trance you seem to be in.

“You know I was just telling Frankie here a funny story. I saw something last night and,” he chuckles, “I think you’d get a good laugh out of it too. Here,” he slides his phone into your line of sight, a video playing. The video shows a woman laying on a bed, legs spread as her fingers move in a circle on her clit. Her head thrown back, a breathy moan “oh Dave oh fuck me dave please”

Something about this is eerily familiar. After a few seconds it dawns on you.

Your eyes go wide and your face heats up as you watch you finger fuck yourself on your boss’ phone.

You can feel Frankie smile behind you as he takes the stick out of your hand and lays it on the table but still continues to stand behind you.

“Wanna tell me what this is about sweet girl?”

“I - I I I’m s- so sorry Mr York I - I’m not I promise I didn’t mean -“

Dave clicks his tongue as Frankie lets out a chuckle.

“Don’t try and lie to me. I watched you try and finger your poor abused little pussy all night long. Is that any way to treat her? I’m right down the hall baby. Could’ve sent me a text and told me to meet you in the bathroom since you were so needy.”

Your mouth dropped open, absolutely gobsmacked at what he just said. Frankie now fully grinding into your ass as he giggles at the scene in front of him. Dave gets up and walks over to the couch and sits down. Frankie follows his lead and sits on the chair that sits to the side, half facing the couch. Frozen in spot, it takes Dave to give you a come here movement with his fingers before you feel your legs carry your body over to where the men are sitting.

“Come sit on my lap honey. Let’s talk.”

You follow his orders, a part of you terrified your boss knows your deepest darkest secret and the other half hoping they both fuck your brains out. You move on autopilot as you turn to sit on his knee, doing your best to not put a lot of weight on his leg. Dave quickly puts an end to that as he grabs you by the hips and pulls you back on his lap. Your thin dress and his sweatpants leave nothing to the imagination. You can feel his hard on, plain as day.

“I’ve told you before, no need to be shy sweetheart. Spread those pretty legs of yours.”

You lean back against his chest as you look at him shyly before opening your legs for him. His big hands run up and down your thighs before pushing up your dress, revealing your soaked panties.

“Damn baby all this for me?” He says, eyes fixed on your pussy as he pulls them to the side.

“You don’t mind if he watches right?”

“N no”

Dave gives you a big grin, “Good.” His eyes go back down to watch as his fingers go up your wet seam. You watch his fingers as he slowly spreads your lips open, gently exploring your pussy.

“How many fingers you think she can take?”

Before you can even answer, Dave plunges two thick fingers deep inside you illicitly a gasp from you. His fingers alone are so thick, you feel yourself being stretched wide open on them. He moves them in and out at a slow pace as his other hand moves up to grope your tit.

Your eyes flutter shut as he keeps fingering you, pushing in and out, filling you up.

You manage to open your eyes and look over at Frankie. He was leaned back in the chair, manspreading as he palmed his hard cock.

Dave noticed you watching Frankie, taking his fingers out, “Frank, come here. Let’s see how much this tight little pussy can take.”

Frankie gets up and sits next to you and Dave before sliding his hand up your thigh,

“I don’t know Dave, I don’t think she can handle both of us.”

A horny demon seems to take over you and you quickly shake your head yes,

“I I can try”

For as eager as you are, you are equally nervous. You’ve never taken on two dicks at once but holy fuck are you turned on and wanna try.

Both men just smile, more so to themselves as Dave’s fingers pull one side of your pussy open and Frankie’s pulls the other side open. Dave’s the first to plunge a finger in and Frankie follows. They find a nice rhythm as their fingers move in and out. You throw your head back and let out a deep moan that you’ve been trying to hold back. Dave bites the side of your neck as he sinks another finger in. Your pussy convulses around the thick digits. Frankie pulls the top of your dress down and pulls your tit out, leaning down and taking your nipple in his mouth. You can’t help but put your arm around his head and hold him close as he sucks your breast. The feeling of both of their fingers moving in tandem has you on the verge of tears.

“Oh fuck look at that baby, taking four fucking fingers. Soaking our fucking hands, goddamn baby that’s it.” As soon as Dave said that, you managed your best to look down and they both had two fingers plunged deep inside you. You couldn’t tear your eyes away when you felt Dave’s other hand press on your lower stomach. It was like a light switch. You somehow felt them even deeper. The pressure from that and from their fingers moving amplified. Tears escaped your eyes, you couldn’t take much more. This deep build up inside of you clawing its way out. You had started to squirm, your ass now rubbing up and down Dave’s lap. Dave’s breath hitched in your ear.

“Breath baby, just breath, you’re doing so good. Come on breath with me.” Dave managed to get out in a hurried whisper, his own voice giving him away. Seeing you like this has him on the verge of his own orgasm. The friction of your ass rubbing against him added to the sight of you and knowing he’s the reason your falling apart.

A sob wracked through your entire body as your orgasm crashed into you. Your hips practically levitating

Frankie and Dave both watched as you gushed out, practically pushing their fingers out. Dave’s own moans finally coming out as his dick starts to spurt cum inside his sweat pants. His chest heaving as he pants in your ear, holding you close to him.

“Fuck that was hot.” Frankie said breathlessly before leaning in and claiming your lips with his. Your cheeks were wet from the tears as you still felt disoriented but managed to kiss him back with as much fierceness as he had.

Frankie grabbed you by the hips and pulled you on top of him. Your own body still trembling from the aftershocks of that mind blowing moment.

Frankie moved your hips up and down, causing you to grind against him while he continued to claim your lips with his. After a few moments he broke the kiss and made quick work of taking his dick out.

Out of breath and just barely getting ahold of yourself again, you look down at his throbbing cock as he gives it a few pumps before he’s pulling you back close again. You put your arms on his shoulders as he does the work for you, putting his dick right where you want him.

You’re so wet, you slide down his cock easily but the delicious burn of the stretch still makes your jaw drop as it takes your breath away.

Frankie’s head rolls back as his eyes close, feeling every inch of your pussy as he uses you like a fleshlight. Moving your hips up and down as he fucks you slowly. He knows he has a big dick and he doesn’t want to hurt you by going hard too fast. He takes his time and builds up speed before wrapping his arms around you and jack hammering his cock up into you. You collapse, hanging onto him as he makes you take his girthy dick. The two of you so lost in what you were doing, completely forgetting Dave sitting right next to you.

But Dave is very much enjoying the show. He’s pulled out his own cock using his cum as lube, stroking himself as he watches Frankie fuck you.

“Fffuckk that’s it baby, god look at you. What a fucking whore. I wish you could see how you look right now, fucking beautiful.” Dave starts to ramble as he works himself up again. His voice startles you a little as you try to lift your head and look over at him.

Frankie slows his thrusts down, grabbing your ass checks as he rolls his hips up. Grinding deep inside you.

Dave stands up and hets behind you. His big hand pushes on your back causing you to fall forward on Frankie.

You feel his finger probe your asshole, just barely poking in before he sinks in to the knuckle. Your poor pussy starts to convulse on Frankie’s dick, getting even wetter.

“Don’t get scared now baby, you can take us.” Dave said as he starts to move his finger in and out. He bends forward a little before pursing his lips and spitting. A wet splat lands in between your cheeks as he takes his finger out to move it down to your hole. Without notice he sticks a second finger in, slowly working you open. Frankie’s holding you tight to him, not moving inside you as his friend stretch’s you open so you can take both cocks at once.

Your face buried in Frankie’s neck, squeezing your eyes shut as this amazing, full feeling washes over you. It’s so much having a cock in your pussy and feeling his fingers in your ass.

After a few minutes of getting you ready, Dave takes his fingers out. Spits on his hand to add to his already cum lubed dick. Guiding his cock to your back entrance, he slowly pushes the tip in. You gasp as all the air leaves your body. Clinging to Frankie as you try to accommodate both men.

“You’re doing so good baby, that’s it. Fucking beautiful.” Dave grunts out as he pushes all the way in. Once his cock is buried in your ass, you can feel him throb. Dave reaches up and gathers your hair in a ponytail before giving you an experimental grind. Slowly moving back out, he starts to fuck your ass. Frankie begins to thrust up into you. The two men quickly work up a rhythm, both cocks moving in and out, fucking you. Dave tugs on your hair, causing you to lift your head off Frankie’s shoulder and bend back. Loud moans tumble from your lips.

“There she is, look at you taking us sweet girl. Taking it so well, fuck.”

“She’s so wet Dave, I think she likes being stuffed with two dicks. Don’t you baby? Such a slutty little pussy, needs two men to fuck her properly huh?” Frankie groans as your pussy answers for you, tightening on his cock.

A symphony of grunts and moans fill the air, balls slapping against skin, cocks sliding in and out of your holes.

“Frank, I think we should give our girl a nice facial. To thank her for letting us use her pretty holes.”

“No better way to show our appreciation Dave.”

Dave pulls out and pulls you off of Frankie. Doing his best to gently guide you to your knees. Your own legs jelly from the most intense fuck of your life.

Both men stand in front of you, jerking their cocks in your face as you stick your tongue out as far as you can. Dave and Frankie both tap the tip of their cocks on your tongue. Frankie starts to spurt cum first, painting your face with thick globs hitting above your eye and on your tongue. Dave cums next, his hitting you on your cheek and around your mouth. Frankie scoops a little off your face, putting it in your mouth. Closing your mouth around his digits to suck them clean.

“Thank you” you say with a smile and the little bit of air you have left in your lungs.

The men look down at you and smile. They are going to throughly enjoy having you around.

[baronessvonglitter]

It's that time of year! I have compiled a little list of the fics I've read since September that have altered my brain chemistry and would recommend to anyone looking for a good laugh, a spicy read, or a titillating tale. (I have marked some of these as 'series' even though they may just have multiple parts. I am very lazy and will not apologize for it.)

Please take the time to check these out, give the authors some love, and read more of their work. 🤎

Close Encounters of the Corn Kind ~ Dieter Bravo x Female Reader ~ by @whocaresstillthelouvre

Cosmic Kiss ~ Alien!Joel x F!reader ~ by @clawdeewritesfanfic

decisions ~ Dave York x fem!reader ~ by @laligraves

devil's advocate ~ Joel Miller x f!reader ~ by @joelsdagger

Down Bad ~ Dave York x f!reader ~ by @schnarfer

Fires at Midnight ~ Lucien Flores x f!Reader ~ by @inept-the-magnificent

Good Luck, Babe ~ Dave York x f!reader ~ by @schnarfer

Heaven is Hell ~ Demon!Dieter Bravo, Angel!Marcus Pike x OFC Emma ~ by @inept-the-magnificent

Hot Date ~ stepdaddy!Roman Roy x f!reader ~ by @strang3lov3

Keep Quiet ~ Tim Rockford x f!reader ~ by @auteurdelabre

Lies, Excuses and Bullshit ~ Exboyfriend!Dave York x f!Reader ~ by @bitchesuntitled

lights, camera, action ~ Dave York x f!reader ~ by @noceurous

Make it Stick ~ Old!Joel x Reader ~ by @gutsby

My Kink is Karma ~ Joel Miller x f!reader ~ by @alltheirdamn

Never made it as a wise man ~ joel miller x f!reader ~ by @almostempty

The Night of the Concert Pt. 2 ~ dbf!Joel x fem!reader ~ by @ienjoywritingfilth

October 31 ~ Joel Miller x fem reader x Tommy Miller ~ by @milla-frenchy

On the Nature of Daylight ~ Din Djarin x f!Reader ~ by @lady-bess

Our Little Secret ~ dbf!Joel Miller/Reader ~ by @pearlessance

Physics in Practice ~ stepfather!Reed Richards x student!f!Reader ~ by @sanarsi

Practice Makes Perfect ~ Ted Garcia x f!Reader/You (no y/n) ~ by @notjustjavierpena

Private Eyes ~ Jack Daniels x private investigator!f!reader ~ by @syd-djarin

proud to be yours ~ Marcus Acacius x f!reader ~ by @ace-turned-confused

Repenting ~ Dave York x f!reader ~ by @sizzlingcloudmentality

The Ring ~ Dave York x f!babysitter (university age) ~ by @ienjoywritingfilth

Roommates (series) ~ pornstar!Joel x f!reader ~ by @punkshort

Saving What Was Lost (series) ~ pre oubreak!Joel Miller x fem!reader ~ by @mermaidgirl30

Savor ~ Jack "Whiskey" Daniels x f!reader ~ by @sunshinehaze1

Sex Pollen Din Djarin one-shot ~ Din Djarin x f!Reader ~ by @auteurdelabre

So Say Goodbye ~ Marcus Pike x f!reader ~ by @sunshinehaze1

A Step Into Hell ~ Stepdad!Joel Miller x f!reader ~ by @aurorawritestoescape

Strike (series) ~ No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader ~ by @secretelephanttattoo

Sweat ~ Frankie Morales x fem! able bodied reader ~ by @sawymredfox

Three's a Crowd ~ Tommy Miller x f!reader x Joel Miller ~ by @pearlessance

Too Good to be True ~ Frankie Morales x f!reader ~ by @almostempty

Trick or Treat? ~ Dark!Frankie Morales x Dark!Joel Miller x Dark!Dave York F!Reader ~ by @morallyinept

Waiting Game (series) ~ dbf!Joel x Reader ~ by @gutsby

The Way to a Great Wide Somewhere ~ beast!Din Djarin x f!reader ~ by @myownwholewildworld

what the hell is wrong with Tim? ~ Tim Rockford x f!cop reader ~ by @beefrobeefcal

What Was I Made For? ~ Frankenstein AU Tim Rockford x fem!reader ~ by @604to647

You look like a fun place to sit ~ Neighbor!Frankie Morales x f!reader ~ by @itwasntimethatdidit40

2 Sweet 4 Me (series) ~ Dieter Bravo x AFAB reader ~ by @eff4freddie

6 PM ~ Joel Miller x fem reader ~ by @milla-frenchy

dividers by @kodaswrld 👑

[gothcsz]

𝐈𝐈𝐈 | Marcus Acacius x Fem!Reader x Lucius Verus Aurelius | ~13k wc (woops) | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: Lucius Aurelius, the stepson of wealthy and renowned architect Marcus Acacius, falls in love with you, Marcus's personal assistant. However, you're already in the midst of a tangled affair with his stepfather. (based on)

Tags: modern!au, family drama, they're both arrogant architects with egos out of this world, reasonable age gap between marcus and reader, infidelity (sorry lucilla), porn with plot, dirty talk, degradation (slut, whore), spanking, oral (f&m receiving), facial, unprotected p in v sex (this is fiction be smart irl), anal, spit as lube, cum eating, creampie kink, baby's first mmf threesome, double penetration, jealousy!, possessiveness!, but the boys are learning how to share, everyone is kind of shitty, some latin (carissime/dear, praecantrix/enchantress, dulcissima/sweetest), no use of y/n, reader has long hair, any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know okay, thanks!

A/N: i sense a pattern occurring with this specific pairing and i ain't mad at it! ridley scott knew what he was doing when casting these two hunks. this is for my love @almostempty, always on the frontlines of the threesome fic movement 🫡 okay, i hope you all enjoy reading and let ya girl know what you think 🖤

Marcus’s lips curl into a slow, smug smile as he watches you. “Come on, my carissime,” he murmurs, a gravelly caress against your heated skin. “You can do better than that. I know you can.” His large hand cups the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair, tugging just enough to make your scalp tingle.

He brushes the stray strands from your face, his touch tender despite the edge of authority in his tone. He wants to see you—wants to savor the way your lips stretch around the thick girth of his cock, the way your cheeks hollow as you struggle to take more of him.

Drool drips from the corner of your mouth, and your eyes flutter upward, catching his smoldering gaze. His golden flecked eyes darken as he drinks you in, and you can’t help but admire him from your position between his powerful thighs.

The streaks of silver weaving through his dark brown curls and beard catch the light, a testament to his age and masculinity.

His chiseled features, strong and weathered, are the kind you’ve explored endlessly—memorizing every dip and ridge with your lips and fingertips. 

Marcus is more than handsome; he’s devastating, a man aging like fine wine—complex, intoxicating, and wholly addictive.

He’s right, of course. You can do better. You’ve done better. But Marcus’s cock always demands a moment of adjustment, a slow surrender to its sheer size and delicious thickness. It’s a challenge you relish, evidence of your enthusiasm to satisfy.

Pulling off him with a gasp, you let your hand slide up his spit slick shaft, jerking him with gentle pressure. A web of saliva bridges your lips to his flushed, throbbing cock, and you purse your lips, spitting onto him, the sound obscenely loud in the quiet room.

Marcus watches you, his lips quirking into a crooked smirk, pride and desire flickering across his sharp features.

“Look at you,” he praises, his thumb brushing along the corner of your mouth, wiping away a strand of drool that’s smudged your lipstick, dragging it across your cheek.

The adoration of the gesture is at odds with the thirst in his eyes, his pupils blown wide with lust as he takes in the way you work for him. “Messy little thing. You love this, don’t you?”

Your answer comes in the form of a teasing smirk, your tongue darting out to swipe at his head. The salty tang of his precum dances on your taste buds, and you slap his cock against the pink muscle, the soft thud making you dizzy.

Your lips then glide over the pulsating, veined flesh of his cock and the weight of him on your tongue sends a deep pulse of heat straight to your cunt. It has you shifting slightly on your knees, your own arousal dampening the thin fabric of your panties, making you crave friction, relief—anything. 

But you know better than to touch yourself without his permission. Marcus thrives on control, his mastery over your pleasure woven into every fiber of his devotion to you.

So though the temptation to sneak a hand down to your needy clit is overwhelming, you revel in the sweet agony of denial, knowing he’ll make the eventual release all the more shattering.

His fingers tighten in your hair, tugging just enough to elicit a muffled moan. The sound vibrates around him, making his cock twitch as you hollow your cheeks again and draw a deep breath through your nose.

Inch by inch, you let him slide deeper, the bulbous tip nudging your uvula, tears pooling in your eyes, the tip of your nose brushing against the coarse hairs at his base.

“Such a praecantrix,” Marcus growls, the Latin rolling off his tongue with an edge of mockery. You love when he speaks to you in the dead language, a relic of his fascination with ancient Roman culture. It feels intimate, and you savor the way he wields it like a weapon meant only for you.

He’s told you as much—that this language, with all its history, is yours alone. 

“So eager to fall to your knees and please a married man. That’s my favorite thing about you, sweetheart. Such a dirty fucking slut.”

The degradation spills over you like molten heat, pooling low in your belly. It’s cruel and intoxicating, and it makes your pussy ache with a mix of shame and desire.

You choke on him, the stretch of his cock testing the limits of your throat, but you don’t pull back. He loves the power, the control, the sight of you struggling yet determined to take everything he gives.

Whether it’s your mouth, your cunt, or on those nights when he’s feeling particularly depraved, your ass—he relishes pushing you to the brink and watching you rise to meet him.

And so what if he’s married? You’ve justified it a hundred times over in your head. His wife should’ve done a better job keeping him satisfied. She shouldn’t have let a man like him go hungry, his appetite desires more than what’s waiting for him at home, which left him roaming, seeking out someone—you—to feed his ravenous needs.

If she couldn’t keep him, that’s not your problem. You didn’t steal him; he came willingly, like a moth to your flame.

You know your role as the other woman. You play it well. During the day, you’re his personal assistant: poised, professional, efficient. You keep his schedule flawless, his coffee perfect, and your interactions just cool enough to deflect suspicion.

But here, in moments like this—when his cock fills your greedy mouth and his filthy words drip into your ears—you’re anything but restrained. You’re his, entirely, bending to his every whim, doing whatever it takes to please him.

No love bites are left where she might see. No lingering perfume to betray you, no smudged lipstick to stain his crisp, tailored shirts. You stay in your lane, as he expects of you, and in return, Marcus makes you feel like an empress—his empress, even if it’s only in secret.

The thrill of being his secret indulgence, his escape, burns hotter than any guilt you once felt. The wrongness of it, the illicit danger of fucking another woman’s husband, only fuels the lustful fire.

You know you shouldn’t. You’ve tried to stop.

The one and only time you tried to end it, it lasted a pathetic seven days. This so-called breakup was spurred on by a friend’s misguided advice.

So, you’d sat him down over a quiet dinner in one of your usual haunts, a restaurant miles away where no one could recognize you, your stomach twisting as you broke the news.

Marcus’s reaction had been icy, his fury masked by a veneer of composure that was somehow worse than an outburst.

The wrinkles on his handsome face deepend before he stood abruptly, throwing down enough cash to cover the bill without a word, leaving you alone to call an Uber, tears dampening your cheeks as you wondered if you’d just lost your job, your lover—or both.

The following days were a cold war. At work, he was stoic and distant, his orders sharp, his reprimands cutting. He barely looked at you, and when he did, his gaze was devoid of the heat you’d grown addicted to. The sting of it was worse than you’d anticipated.

You hated it. You hated yourself for hating it, for craving the attention of a man who wasn’t yours to begin with.

Then, on the eighth day, Marcus snapped. It was late, the floor empty except for you, hunched over your computer. He appeared without warning, dragging you into his office, closing the door with a sharp click.

Before you could speak, he was on you, his hands gripping your hips, his body pinning yours against the cool glass window that overlooked the city.

“You thought you could walk away from me?” His voice was a low growl, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re fucking stupid if you think I’d let my favorite pussy go without putting up a fight.”

That night, he took you hard and fast, his words filthier than ever, his grip bruising and possessive. He made it clear that you weren’t going anywhere—not unless he said so.

And no, he wouldn’t leave her for you. He’d told you as much, his tone unapologetic, almost cruel. But that didn’t matter, not when he was deliciously buried inside your pussy, making you scream his name against the glass.

Now, here you are again—on your knees, his cock filling your throat, his hands tangled in your hair as he reminds you, with every vulgar word, exactly where you belong.

You bring your hand up to cup his balls, rolling them gently in your palm as you keep up your rhythm, your other hand gripping the base of his cock to keep him steady.

The combination draws a sharp hiss from him, and his grip in your hair tightens, holding you in place when his hips start to move in earnest thrusts that force him deeper into your throat as he uses you for his pleasure.

You surrender completely, your body alive with need and your heart racing in sync with his labored breaths.

“Fuck, you’re going to make me come,” he warns, his head tipping back against the leather of his chair. The deep timbre of his voice resonates through you. “You want it, don’t you? My good girl wants every fucking drop.”

Your answer comes in the form of a pornographic moan, your nails digging into his meaty thigh as you nod.

A dull ache spreads across your jaw as you work over his cock, bobbing eagerly, losing yourself in the head you’re giving.

You feel the familiar tightening of his balls, the telltale sign that he’s close, and it spurs you on. Your rhythm grows more frantic, more desperate, sloppy; your lips glossy with saliva as you pop him out of your mouth to lavish attention on his cockhead. You tease the sensitive ridge of his frenulum with slow, deliberate licks, kissing and sucking, worshipping this unit of a man above you.

The muscles of his thighs flex beneath your hands, his body trembling with restrained power. 

Marcus’s growl deepens and he quickly pulls you off his cock. The sharp tug makes you moan, your neck arching gracefully, putting you on display for him like a prized possession.

He stands, towering over you, his broad shoulders and commanding presence casting a shadow that feels consuming. His dark brown eyes bore into yours, appetence and dominance swirling within them.

You stare at him from your position on your knees, swollen lips parted, spit and precum gleaming on your mouth and chin. 

Your breaths come shallow and quick; you know what he wants, so you begin to jerk his cock with both of your fists, twisting your wrists with a skill honed from all the times you’ve gotten him off like this, the wet and lewd sounds of your action having you moan slightly and his grip on your hair tightens.

“Just like that, carissima, milk my cock.”

He comes with a guttural groan, his head thrown back, Adam’s apple bobbing, and you gasp as thick ropes of his release paint your face, splattering across your cheeks, your lips, even your lashes.

You instinctively dart your tongue out, catching the salty taste of him, savoring his essence as though it were nectar from your favorite fruit, giggling softly.

The sight of you, defiled and glowing with satisfaction, makes his hips jerk forward involuntarily, a man undone.

You stroke him through the aftershocks, his cock softening in your hands as you lean into his touch. His grip on your hair loosens, his large fingers threading through it more gently now, brushing it away from your face as he admires his work.

“What a sight, so beautiful on your knees like this, covered in my cum.” Marcus muses, his voice hoarse as his chest heaves. He swipes through the mess on your face, collecting his spend before pressing his fingers into your mouth. You hum, sucking them clean with the same devotion you’ve given his cock.

The taste of him, warm and heady, sends a thrill down your spine.

When he offers you his hand to help you up, you accept it, your knees stiff and aching from kneeling on the rug beneath his desk.

“Your son will be here—” you start, your tone shifting back to professional, delivering the message you initially came in here for before getting… distracted.

“He is not my son,” Marcus snaps, the venom in his voice cutting through the room. He’s buckling his belt with sharp motions, his jaw clenched so tight you can practically hear his teeth grinding.

You don’t flinch—it’s not the first time you’ve seen his temper flare when his stepson is mentioned, and it won’t be the last. Instead, you adjust your tone, correcting yourself smoothly. “Lucius will be here within the hour to discuss the Anderson project.”

You smooth down your work pants, fingers brushing against the creases, and glance into the reflective surface of the nearby cabinet. You already know a trip to the restroom is in order to fix the telltale signs of his rough affection—your swollen lips, disheveled hair, the smudge of mascara beneath your eyes.

Marcus doesn’t respond right away, but the scowl on his face deepens, his broad shoulders rigid as he adjusts the cuffs of his shirt.

The tension between Marcus and Lucius is legendary, an animosity born out of years of neglect, betrayal, and a battle for control over the Aurelius family legacy.

Marcus makes no effort to mask his disdain for his stepson, and Lucius returns the sentiment with equal fervor. Their interactions are charged, each conversation laced with thinly veiled insults and simmering resentment.

Lucius’s childhood, from what you’ve gathered, had been a mess of abandonment and rebellion. Shipped off to boarding schools before he hit puberty, a move orchestrated by his mother, who, by all accounts, seemed eager to rid herself of the burden of raising a troublesome son.

The expulsions came next, one after the other, as Lucius acted out, a desperate bid for his mother’s attention. It never worked. She was too preoccupied with the luxuries of high society to care. Especially not after she married Marcus and skipped her son’s college graduation altogether, solidifying a wedge between them that even time couldn’t mend.

Years later, Lucius had returned with a vengeance, polished and poised, armed with degrees and accolades in both architecture and engineering.

He was ready to reclaim what his grandfather left behind—what Marcus had taken over when he married into the family. 

Lucius wasn’t content to sit on the sidelines. He had marched in and demanded his rightful place—a share in the architectural firm that had been in his family for generations.

You remember that day vividly, the drama unfolding like a soap opera in real-time in the conference room as lawyers from both sides tried to hammer out the details.

Lucius had made it clear that he wasn’t asking for permission—he was taking what was his. Marcus, in contrast, was a picture of barely restrained fury, his fists clenched on the table, his voice cold as he tried to shut his stepson down. 

But the younger man didn’t retract, and by the end of the meeting, he had secured his position as a partner.

For you, the spectacle was captivating, a battleground of egos and legal jargon. Sitting at the edge of the room, your notepad in hand, you watched it all unfold with barely concealed amusement. 

If anything, you’d felt a buzz of anticipation, knowing the tension would wind Marcus so tight he’d take it out on you later. The thought had made you giddy, your pen sliding between your lips as you nibbled on it, your tongue swirling absentmindedly.

You couldn’t help but fantasize about what was to come—the sharp crack of Marcus’ palm against your ass, the growl in his voice as he delivered brutal backshots.

What you hadn’t noticed at the time was Lucius’s gaze on you. Those icy eyes of his watching every flick of your tongue, every scrape of your teeth against the pen.

“Very well,” Marcus says finally, dismissing the topic with a wave of his hand. “Send him in when he arrives.”

As you turn to leave, his hand shoots out, catching you by the elbow. He pulls you close, his body radiating heat against yours. His thumb swipes over your swollen bottom lip before pressing into your mouth, forcing it open. 

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten what I owe you, dulcissima,” he murmurs, all dark and seductive. “I’ll take good care of you later tonight. Midnight. Our room.”

The promise in his tone sends excitement through your veins, your thighs pressing together instinctively.

As you start to nod, your mind remembers one tiny detail from his schedule. “You have dinner reservations with Lucil—”  you begin, her name barely leaving your lips before his thumb presses down harder, silencing you with a whimper.

“Don’t say her name,” his eyes narrow, daring you to defy him, “and don’t you worry about that. I’ll be with you. Midnight.”

Midnight. Our room—a luxury suite in one of the hotels he designed, cloaked in opulence and secrecy. It’s where he comes to you after being with her, and sometimes, where he leaves you to go back to her.

The sting of it is subtle now, dulled by repetition. You’ve taught yourself not to dwell on the fact that his hands on you tonight might still carry the scent of her.

You try not to wonder if he kisses her the way he kisses you, if he whispers sweet nothings in her ear the same way he does when he’s buried inside you.

You don’t want to know. It’s easier to exist in this bubble of ignorance where you can pretend you’re the only one who matters.

Instead, you nod obediently, giving in to the charade you’ve chosen. The playful edge returns, and you bite down lightly on his thumb, your teeth grazing the skin in a way that has his lips twitching into a smirk.

Marcus leans in to press his lips against yours passionately, how you like it, lingering just long enough to make your heart ache. It’s maddening how he kisses you—like he means it, like he loves you.

And maybe, in his own twisted way, he does.

You sit behind your desk, eyes averted as she lounges in the small sitting area, waiting for him to finish his meeting.

She’s here to capture Marcus’s attention. It’s a game you’ve grown accustomed to—her attempts to reclaim parts of him she craves—the passion, the primal connection—all things he reserves for you.

And as petty as it is, part of you revels in knowing how little he gives her. What’s left of his affection after he’s spent it all on you is scraps at best.

She may have his last name, his ring, the sprawling mansion he designed and built for her, but none of it holds a candle to the way he devours you in the secrecy of your shared nights.

The door to his office creaks open, and Marcus steps out, his brow furrowed in the perpetual scowl he wears like armor.

She rises from the loveseat, moving to him as though pulled by an invisible string. Their embrace is brief but intimate enough to make your stomach churn. You keep your focus on the glowing screen of your computer, scrolling through emails that blur together as you strain to block out their presence.

Smug satisfaction only goes so far, and the familiar pang of jealousy gnaws at the edges of your confidence.

Their conversation floats toward you: lunch at the country club, a round of golf, insular activities that reek of old money and class—worlds you’ve only glimpsed from behind the scenes, arranging his reservations, managing his calendar, ensuring his whims are catered to. 

You expect him to brush her off, as he often does, leaving her deflated while he buries himself in work—or in you.

But he doesn’t.

“Clear my schedule for the day and remain on standby in case anything should arise.”

His indifference lands like a slap. You glance up briefly, meeting his gaze, and catch the slight twitch of amusement tugging at his lips before leaning in to kiss her.

He’s enjoying this, you realize. Playing you, toying with your jealousy, rubbing it in just enough to sting.

He knows you can see the way he openly parades her, the casual ease with which he can show her off to the world while you’re relegated to the shadows. Lavish gifts and extravagant outings are hers for the taking, while your rewards are delivered in hushed whispers and midnight rendezvous.

Your smile is syrupy sweet, the kind of false cheer that could rot teeth. “Of course, sir. Enjoy your day together,” you chirp, each word coated in venom he’ll detect, even if she doesn’t.

Marcus doesn’t spare you another glance as he guides her toward the elevator, his arm snug around her waist.

The pang in your chest tightens, sharper than usual. He’s not usually like this with her—so overt, so public. This new display of affection unsettles you, sends your thoughts spiraling down dark avenues.

Are they mending things? Rekindling their marriage?

A cold panic begins to rise, but you quash it down, clinging to the task at hand. You bury yourself in clearing his schedule, canceling meetings, rearranging appointments.

It’s easier to focus on the practical than to confront the gnawing fear that you might no longer hold the place in his life you once did.

Some time later, the sound of footsteps approaching pulls you from your task, and when you glance up, it’s none other than Lucius stepping into view. 

He breezes in like he owns the place—well, technically, part of it is his—and you pause the music playing through your earbuds, slipping one out as he approaches your desk.

“He’s not in,” you inform him, polite but curt. “Won’t be until tomorrow. If it’s urgent, I’m sure you have his personal number.”

He doesn’t reply immediately, instead perching himself on the edge of your desk. His fingers idly play with one of the trinkets decorating your workspace, a polished glass paperweight that catches the light and casts fractured rainbows across his dexterous hands.

You narrow your eyes at his intrusion, taking a moment to really look at him. Where Marcus is the epitome of old-school refinement, pressed suits in muted tones and custom leather shoes, Lucius is his foil.

He’s all rich silken shirts in bold colors, stylish sneakers, and enough jewelry to make him gleam under the office lighting.

Rings adorn on his fingers, chains glint at his neck, and his pierced ears and tattoos add that touch of rebellion he’s infamously known for.

He’s hot, undeniably so, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t noticed before.

There’s always been a charge between the two of you, a flirtatious undercurrent in the way he looks at you, the subtle innuendos in his words.

You’ve never acted on it—how could you, not with a man like Marcus whispering promises of ruin and rapture. Your secret lover waiting behind closed doors.

But today… after the way he flaunted her in front of you, the bitterness curdling in your chest craves a taste of some sort of retaliation. It’s irrational, you know, but something inside you itches.

And maybe, just maybe, Lucius is exactly what you need to scratch that itch.

“Then why are you still here?” He finally speaks, partially amused, as those piercing blue eyes lock onto yours. They’re sharp, assessing, and your cheeks warm slightly under the weight of his gaze.

“A busy man like him has a busy schedule that precedes him,” you reply, keeping your tone professional. “It doesn’t organize itself.”

His lips curve into a slow, knowing smile, one that makes your body hum. “Ah, ever the dutiful assistant. He’s lucky to have someone like you keeping his chaos in check.”

You shrug, forcing a nonchalant air, though his attention feels like a spotlight. “It’s what I’m being paid to do.”

He tilts his head, the movement almost predatory, gaze giving you a not so subtle once over. “It must be exhausting, though. All work and no play makes for a dull life. When’s the last time you took a break?”

Your brows pinch together. “Why do you care?”

“Because,” he drawls, leaning closer, his cologne—a mix of citrus and something spicier—hitting your senses, “I don’t think someone as pretty as you should spend her days buried in schedules and emails.”

“Flattery doesn’t work on me.” A damn lie.

“Oh, I’m not trying to flatter you.” He smirks, his confidence maddening. “I’m simply stating a fact.”

Before you can form a retort, he straightens, brushing invisible lint off his shirt. “Join me for lunch,” he says, and it’s not quite a question. “You look like you could use a little indulgence.”

Your brain immediately shouts no, warning you of all the ways this is a terrible idea, but your pride, bruised and still licking its wounds from earlier, nudges you forward.

“Lunch?” you ask, raising a skeptical brow. “You and me?”

“Why not?” he replies, his grin boyish but undeniably charming. “Unless you’ve got a better offer.”

You know agreeing to this is risky, a slippery slope, but thinking of Marcus coming back to find out you’ve been out with his stepson stokes a spark of defiance you can’t quite ignore.

“I don’t. And if you’re paying, there’s this new place I’ve been dying to try,” you’re playful with it, standing and grabbing your bag, ignoring the little voice in your head screaming at you for potentially girlbossing a little too close to the sun. “If this ends up being a waste of time, I’m billing you for the hour.”

Lucius gives you a smug smile, his satisfaction evident as he steps aside to let you pass. “Don’t worry, beautiful. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

“Oh fuck, just like that,” you moan, your breath hitching as your orgasm crests, fingers gripping the edge of the counter tightly.

Between your spread thighs, Lucius works you with his mouth, his tongue sliding through your folds with obscene skill. His strong nose nudges your clit, each brush sparking jolts of pleasure that leave you trembling.

The cold mirror at your back is a sharp contrast to the heat that’s overtaken your entire being, a reminder of where you are—some ritzy bar’s fancy men’s restroom, the door locked behind you.

Lunch had been harmless enough—until it wasn’t. A few drinks at the bar loosened both of your tongues, flirtatious words became heated looks, and before you knew it, Lucius leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear as he murmured, “I think we both know how this is going to end.”

You hadn’t argued when he tugged you toward the restroom, your body tingling with the thrill of doing something so reckless, so delectably wrong. But that’s kind of what you’re into, isn’t it?

The moment the door clicked shut, his mouth had been on yours, kissing you with a fervor that made you forget about everything.

“Been wanting this for so long,” Lucius mutters now as he pulls back, licking his lips, glistening with your sweet slick. His hands grip your thighs, spreading you wider as his darkened blue eyes flick up to meet yours. “Not fuckin’ fair that he gets everything.”

You’re too far gone to care about his words, your head lolling back against the mirror as his lips press a trail of kisses up your inner thigh. “Fuck, Lucius,” you pant, your hands reaching for him, needing more. Your fingers find his dark curls, tugging lightly as he stands, his mouth capturing yours in a kiss that’s all heat and desperation.

His tongue slips past your lips, and you moan at the lingering taste of yourself there. Your hand slides down between you, palming the thick length of him through his pants, and he groans into your mouth, his fingers returning to your pussy, teasing your puffy clit until you’re a whimpering mess.

“Are you going to fuck me right here?” you ask breathlessly, biting your lip as you look up at him through heavy lashes.

He groans, his large hand cradling your jaw, tilting your face up to look at him. “What do you think? Turn around.”

He relinquishes his hold on you, stepping back just enough to give you room, and you obey, spinning to face the mirror, your reflection staring back at you. Your cheeks are flushed, lips swollen, and eyes hazy with lust. Behind you, Lucius’s hands are already lifting your skirt, one you’d chosen specifically for Marcus this morning, knowing how much he loves you in pretty, feminine things.

But he had barely spared you a glance before he left with her, and now the thought of him feels distant, unimportant.

He lets out a low whistle, his hands kneading the soft flesh of your ass, admiring the sight of you bent over for him.

You shut your eyes, willing away any lingering thoughts of Marcus as his fingers trace the slick seam of your pussy before dipping inside, his touch confident and practiced.

“Look at yourself,” he commands, his free hand pressing firmly on the small of your back, arching you further. “Eyes on the mirror.”

Your lashes flutter as you meet your own reflection again. His fingers pick up their pace, his chest brushing against your back as he frees himself from his pants. Your breath catches when you feel the thick head of his cock glide through your folds, replacing his digits at your entrance.

You wag your hips playfully, earning a sharp smack to your ass, the sting blooming with heat, and it makes you giggle, the sound light and sultry.

“Are you always this giddy to get fucked?” Lucius teases, his tone dripping with amusement as he lines himself up.

“Only when it’s someone who knows what they’re doing.”

He laughs, a deep, wicked sound, before gripping your hip with one hand and guiding himself inside you with the other. The stretch is exquisite, stealing the air from your lungs as he sinks into you inch by inch, his girth filling you completely.

He’s not as thick or as large as Marcus, but the way he feels inside you is undeniably satisfying, and judging by the expert way he used his mouth, you’re eager to explore the rest of his talents.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groans, his head falling forward, his nose nuzzling into your hair. “So fuckin’ perfect.”

You cry out, eyes rolling to the back of your head, your fingers scrambling for purchase on the marbled counter as he starts to move with pure vehemence.

Every thrust sends a jolt of pleasure through you, his pace building until you’re nothing but a mess of moans and desperate gasps.

The sight of him fucking you from behind, his mouth agape, brows furrowed, has your pussy clenching around him. His strokes are deep and hard, each one making the edge of the countertop dig into the front your thighs, but you don’t care. It feels too damn good.

The universe has an impeccable way of fucking with you, and it does so spectacularly when your phone buzzes in your purse.

The ringtone you’ve assigned to Marcus echoes through the luxurious restroom, shattering the moment and flooding your veins with icy dread.

“L-Lucius, stop,” you whine, your voice betraying how little you actually mean it. His thrusts are hitting just the right spot, and you can barely think straight, let alone care about the consequences of missing Marcus’s call.

Lucius pauses, though not in the way you hoped—or feared. He slows, grinding himself against you, his length pressing deliciously into your g-spot.

Leaning over your bent form, he rummages through your purse until he retrieves the still-ringing phone. “Go ahead,” he holds the device out to you with a cocky grin. “Answer it. Wouldn’t want to upset the boss, now would we?”

You hesitate, staring at the phone like it’s a ticking bomb.

The position you’re in—physically and metaphorically—feels impossible to navigate. When the ringing threatens to stop, instinct gives way, and you snatch the phone from his hand and answer, pressing it to your ear.

“Hello?” Your voice is shaky, breathless, and you pray he doesn’t notice.

“Where the hell are you?” Marcus’s tone is sharp, tinged with irritation.

Your breath hitches. He’s back at the office? He said he’d be gone all day. Panic bubbles in your chest as Lucius’s hips roll lazily, burying himself deep inside you as if to prove a point, and you fight not to moan.

“I-I went out for lunch and to run a few errands,” you stammer, gripping the counter for dear life. In the mirror, Lucius’s smirk deepens. His hands slide up your body, cupping your breasts over your blouse as he pulls you upright against his chest.

He moves your hair aside and starts placing soft, teasing kisses along your neck, his facial hair grazing your skin and adding to the maddening sensations.

“How long are you going to be?”

“Not much longer,” you manage, biting your lip as Lucius’s fingers find your clit. “Do you… need something?” The slow, torturous circles make your knees buckle, and you have to mute the phone to let out a strangled moan.

“Yes,” Marcus replies, oblivious to your plight. “I need you back here. I ran into a client while I was out, and…”

Whatever else he says fades into static as Lucius speeds up his ministrations, his fingers and cock working in perfect harmony to unravel you. Your free hand flies to his wrist, a silent plea for mercy, but he just grins against your neck.

“Just let me finish this call,” you whisper, your voice desperate and pleading.

“No,” he growls through gritted teeth. “You’re going to come all over my dick while you’re on the phone with him.”

Before you can protest, he presses you back down against the counter, resuming the relentless rhythm that slips a film of haze over your vision. Your hand trembles as you unmute the call, your brain scrambling to form coherent words while Lucius fucks you like he owns you.

“...so get back here to pull the prints,” Marcus finishes.

“Okay,” you rasp, tightly holding the edge of the counter, the sound of skin meeting skin threatening to echo over the line. “I-I’ll be there soon.”

There’s a long pause, and your heart pounds in your chest, more from the overwhelming sensation between your legs than Marcus’s impending suspicion. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you blurt out, squeezing your eyes shut as his fingers press harder against your clit, tipping you dangerously close to the edge. “I—I have to go. I’ll see you at the office.”

Without waiting for a response, you hang up and toss the phone onto the counter.

Finally, you let go, your high pitched moans spilling freely as your orgasm crashes over you. Your walls clamp down around Lucius’s cock, and you throw your hips back to meet his thrusts, chasing every last bit of pleasure.

“Oh fuck me, I’m coming!” you cry out, your voice echoing through the restroom.

He groans, his hands gripping your hips as he delivers a few final, punishing thrusts. “There we go,” he practically purrs, satisfied.

He pulls out at the last second, stroking himself until his release coats the supple skin of your ass. He exhales sharply, a triumphant grin spreading across his face as he watches you shudder beneath him.

For a moment, the room is filled with nothing but the sound of your heavy breathing. Then, he chuckles, stepping back to grab a few tissues. “You’re a fucking masterpiece,” he murmurs, gently cleaning you up.

You let out a weak laugh, your legs still trembling as you brace yourself against the counter. “That was way too close.”

He shrugs, tucking himself back into his pants and leaning against the sink, watching you fix your skirt and smooth your hair in the mirror. “I don’t really give a shit,” he replies, his tone so nonchalant it borders on arrogance.

“Yeah,” you give him a sidelong glance. “I figured as much.” You straighten your appearance, making sure to fix every little imperfection and evidence of what just transpired. 

“When can we do this again?”

You hadn’t thought this far ahead, too caught up in the heat of the moment to consider what might come next. His proposition is tempting, dangerously so, and you hesitate, weighing the risks.

Marcus is married after all, and while he’s never outright told you not to see anyone else (not that you wanted to, either), the possessiveness in the way he fucks you and how he treats you when it was just the two of you makes it clear he wouldn’t be thrilled. 

It’s not necessarily the smartest move to hookup with his stepson, considering the messy family history, but that’s really none of your business.

And the alternative? What, meeting some awkward Tinder match with a small cock who can’t get over his ex? No, thanks. You’d pick Lucius any day of the week. 

“You tell me,” you concede. What Marcus doesn’t know won’t kill him. “I don’t want Marcus to know about us. He’d pop his lid—and as fun as that would be for you, I don’t need that drama in my life right now.”

He reaches for you, his hand curling around your waist to pull you closer until you’re standing between his legs. His hands rest lightly on your hips, his thumbs brushing the fabric of your skirt. “It shouldn’t be any of his business who you fuck.”

You bite down on your tongue, gently pushing his hair back, running your fingers through the soft curls. “I know, but that man is complicated. You, of all people should know that.”

“Right,” he takes in your features, noting how beautiful you are, getting lost in your eyes. “Doesn’t matter much to me, but for you, we can keep this low-key.”

“I’d appreciate that,” you give him a small smile, leaning forward and brushing your lips softly against his in a kiss that lingers just long enough to make your pulse quicken again.

He grins boastfully as he pulls back, his thumb brushing against your jaw in a small, teasing motion. “Come on, I’ll take you back. We’ve probably hogged the washroom long enough.”

You nod, letting him guide you toward the door, though the weight of your choices lingers. For now, though, you push it all aside. One mess at a time.

Juggling these two men feels like a balancing act you’ve somehow mastered. Each fills a different part of your life, balancing out the deficiencies of the other like two halves of a very complicated equation.

Marcus is raw power, the kind of dominance that leaves your soul humming and your heart racing. He’s harsh, unapologetically entitled, and he takes what he wants with a certainty that has you willingly offering yourself up. 

You crave his intensity, the way he makes you feel like you’re teetering on the edge of something dangerously exhilarating.

Lucius, though, is the warmth you never knew you needed. He’s attentive in ways Marcus never could be, the type of lover you’d believed only existed in fiction.

He doesn’t just fuck you—he worships you, like you’re the only person in the world when he’s with you. He makes you laugh, makes you feel seen. He treats you like you’re the prize, not some stolen treasure.

And yet, you’re the one hiding him. He’s eager to show you off, to take you to lavish galas with his Ivy League crowd, or whisk you away to some foreign paradise.

But a stubborn part of you clings to Marcus, to the ridiculous fantasy that one day he might wake up and finally choose you.

That he’ll leave her and realize you were what he wanted all along.

It’s an illusion, of course. And you know it—especially when Marcus mentions that he and his wife are starting couples counseling.

His tone is so nonchalant. It’s like he doesn’t even register what that means for you. But you do. It’s a dagger to the heart, a confirmation of the insecurities that have been simmering on your side of the affair for as long as it’s been happening. 

The beginning of the end. If he’s putting in the effort to save his marriage, you’re the obvious sacrifice.

You tell yourself you don’t care. That it’s good he’s fixing things because it means you can finally walk away. 

That night, you cry—gut-wrenching sobs that wrack your body as you curl up on your couch.

The tears aren’t just for him. They’re for you, for the mess you let yourself fall into, for the heartbreak you practically handed to yourself on a silver platter.

You didn’t realize how much of yourself you’d given to him until it was too late.

In what world does the mistress ever get a happy ending?

Determined, you decide that your time together is up. For real this time.

The sessions with his wife have already put distance between you—less frequent rendezvous, fewer late-night texts. And when you are together, the connection feels fractured.

Sure, he still fucks you like he always has, still uses that ancient, sweet language that once made you feel special. 

But now, everything he does cuts like glass because you know it’s just an act, a hollow currency to keep you around, to keep you looking at him like he’s your moon and stars.

Tonight is supposed to be the last time. You’ve planned it out—how you’ll say it, how you’ll walk away. The usual hotel room feels like the right setting for closure, neutral and familiar enough to weather whatever fallout may come.

You arrive early, as always. The room is pristine, the bed’s crisp linens beckoning. But it’s the item sitting in the center that draws your attention.

A white box tied with a vibrant red bow, your name written elegantly on a card tucked into the ribbon.

Knew these would look divine on you the moment I saw them, my carissime. I haven’t been the most attentive lover as of late, and for that, I apologize. - M

Your heart stutters as you slip the bow free and open the box. Inside lies the most exquisite set of lingerie you’ve ever seen, delicate lace and fine silk in a shade that complements your skin tone perfectly.

It looks so luxurious, you’re almost afraid to touch it. Two smaller boxes rest alongside it. Curious, you open them to reveal earrings and a matching necklace, adorned with your favorite gemstones.

Damn him. He’s making this so hard. The rational part of you knows better, but the temptation is too strong.

What’s the harm in one final night of indulgence? One last chance to revel in his attention, to let him taste you and remember exactly what he’s losing?

You slip out of your clothes, carefully donning the lingerie. The way it hugs your curves, accentuating every dip and swell of your body, makes you feel like a goddess.

You glance at your heels from earlier, slipping them back on—they match perfectly, adding the final touch to your look.

A small, knowing smile graces your lips. If this is goodbye, you’ll make sure it’s a goodbye he’ll never forget.

The door clicks open, and Marcus steps inside, the heavy weight of his presence commanding the room.

He pauses, taking in the sight of you sprawled across the bed, legs kicking up lazily, your chin propped on your palm. The thin strap of your bra slips down your shoulder, revealing more than enough to stoke the embers of desire in his eyes.

His gaze rakes over you with the intensity of a predator. “Dulcissima…” he breathes, the word oozes like molasses, thick and sweet, curling in your ear and making you wet.

You tilt your head, giving him your best doe-eyed expression, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Hi, Marcus,” you sing-song, your tone sweet, teasing, knowing exactly what it does to him.

He steps closer, his eyes lingering on the curves accentuated by the expensive lingerie he gifted you. “I was right to assume you’d look fucking sexy in this,” he says, his voice lower now, his fingertips grazing up your spine.

The faint touch sends a delicious shiver across your skin. His eyes devour you, the glint of the necklace he’d bought you sparkling against your throat like a declaration of ownership.

You turn slowly onto your back, stretching out lazily like a kitten, letting him take in the full view, and he exhales sharply through his nose, his control visibly fraying.

His gaze dips to the way the bra pushes your breasts together, the soft curve of your stomach, the jewelry catching the light.

“Did you like your gifts?” he asks, leaning down to press his lips against your bare midriff.

The kiss is hot, possessive, and you can feel his breath ghosting over your skin. Your stomach flips under his touch.

“Mhm…” you hum softly, keeping your tone light and coy.

His kisses trail higher, his mouth brushing over the swell of your breasts, the faint scrape of his teeth and beard sending a tremor through your body. When he bites down gently, your shaky exhale gives you away, and he chuckles, pleased with himself.

“Good,” he murmurs, lips brushing against your skin. “Couldn’t let my favorite girl forget how much I care about her.”

The word “favorite” grates against something inside you, even as the heat of his mouth distracts you. You let him keep talking, let him spin his meaningless webs.

You know this will be the last time, but you’ll let him play his game a little longer—for now.

Your fingers slip into his salt and peppered hair, pulling him up to you. His lips crash against yours in a fiery kiss, all teeth and tongue, his need barely contained. Your hands slide down his shoulders, body arching against him.

His hands move below you, skillfully undoing the clasp of your bra, the fabric slipping down your arms—when a sudden, sharp knock at the door splits the air.

Both of you freeze. Your breath catches in your throat, and you pull back, looking at Marcus in confusion.

His expression mirrors yours, his brow furrowing in annoyance as he glances toward the door.

The knock comes again, louder this time, more insistent. Then, a voice—deep, familiar, furious.

“Open the door. I know you’re in there.” A pause, your name spoken with quiet venom. “Don’t make me say it again.”

Lucius.

Panic flares in your chest. Your stomach twists as the full weight of what’s about to happen sinks in. You scramble off the bed, your hands shaking as you grab your bra and hurriedly fasten it, your mind racing.

Marcus straightens, his countenance hardening as recognition dawns. His entire demeanor shifts, his shoulders squaring, his jaw tightening.

Everything is going to come to a head now, and you’re not ready for the chaos about to unfold. Marcus is seconds away from finding out about you and Lucius, Lucius uncovering your affair—and there’s no way to stop the inevitable collision.

He stalks to the door, throwing it open with a force that rattles the frame.

There stands Lucius, his expression a storm of anger and betrayal.

His sharp gaze cuts past Marcus immediately, landing on you. He matches the stance of the other man as he takes in the scene: your disheveled state, the lingerie, the necklace glinting on your chest.

“So it’s true.” He storms into the room, “I knew you were sleeping around. My mother did too—just not with who. I should have fucking known it was her.” His words strike like daggers. “It’s always the gold-digging, whorish assistant.”

The insult lands hard, but you refuse to flinch.

Marcus steps forward, spitting out his name. His lips curl into a snarl, his broad body taut with controlled aggression. “What is it that you want? And don’t bullshit me.”

Lucius doesn’t back down. “To see you fall.”

The room goes deadly quiet, the tension is a living thing now, crackling with the threat of violence. You stand frozen, both men squaring off like animals about to tear each other apart.

“Once my mother hears about this, she’s going to divorce you. She’ll take everything. The firm will be mine. She,” his gaze shifts to you, and it’s like being pierced with ice. “Will be mine.”

Marcus lets out a laugh—dark, guttural, dangerous.

“You are an entitled little shit,” the insult makes his disdain clear. “You think you can waltz in here, throw a tantrum, and get what you want? You think I give a damn about your threats?”

“I don’t need threats,” Lucius snaps. “I have the truth.”

“What truth?”

Lucius fucking smirks, stepping away from him and closer to you, rounding your body until he’s right behind you, his words melting into your skin. “She’s not just your dirty little secret. She’s been fucking me too.”

The words drop like a bomb, shattering the fragile facade of control in the room.

Marcus’s body stiffens, gaze snapping toward you with a look you can’t quite decipher—shock, anger, betrayal all dancing in his dark brown eyes.

“Is that true?” He demands, his eyes bore into you, demanding an answer.

Your throat goes dry, panic rising like an avalanche threatening to drown you. “Marcus, I—”

“It’s true,” Lucius interrupts, his tone triumphant and venomous, wrapping his arms around your body, pulling you flush against him. “She’s been playing both sides. Isn’t that right?” His lips trail over your neck, and you hate the way the throbbing at your pussy begins to pulse. “Tell him. Tell him how you’d come running to me every time he wasn’t enough for you. How you let me fuck you while he was on the phone.”

“That’s enough,” Marcus growls, stepping closer, his larger frame looming over the both of you. His anger is palpable, but there’s something else simmering beneath it—arousal.

Lucius laughs, the sound bitter and taunting. “What’s the matter, Acacius? Is the truth too much for you? Or is it the thought of this pussy creaming all over my cock that’s got you so worked up?”

His hand presses against you, his fingers teasing through the damp fabric of your panties, and a soft whimper escapes your lips despite yourself. You bite down on it too late, and Marcus’s gaze sharpens, locking onto you like a predator.

“She’s a liar,” Lucius continues, his voice a deadly purr. “And a cheat. Just like you.”

The accusation tantalizes a reaction out of Marcus, but he doesn’t take the bait. Instead, his eyes fall to where Lucius’s hand moves between your legs, then back to your face.

Slowly, deliberately, he steps closer until the barest inch separates the two of you.

“You’re dripping,” Lucius observes with a smirk, his tone triumphant. “She likes it when we talk to her like this.”

“I know she does,” Marcus replies, razor-sharp. His hand comes up to cup your jaw, his fingers digging just enough to make you gasp. “She always gets off on being called out for what she is—a filthy, nasty little slut.”

“Oh my god,” you breathe, the words slipping out unbidden as Lucius begins to circle your clit. Your head falls back against his shoulder, your body betraying you with every twitch and moan.

“No, darling,” Marcus commands, tightening his grip on your face and forcing you to meet his eyes. “Look at me. Keep those pretty eyes open.”

You blink up at him, your lashes damp with unshed tears of humiliation and need. His gaze is scorching, consuming every inch of your face.

“Why?” Marcus demands, his voice steady but deadly. “Why both of us? What’s in it for you?”

Your lips part, the truth clawing its way to the surface. “Because I can,” you finally admit, your voice trembling but defiant.

The confession hits the air like a spark to kindling. Marcus’s lips morph into a cold smirk, and Lucius lets out a low chuckle behind you.

“Say that again,” Marcus orders, leaning in until his forehead almost touches yours.

“I had two powerful men doing everything for me,” your admission is louder this time, emboldened by the heat of their attention. “Showering me with gifts, meals, and good cock. Why the fuck would I give that up?”

Marcus’s grip on your jaw shifting to trail down your throat, gripping it just enough to make your pulse race beneath his fingertips.

“You’re perfect, my carissime.” There’s this softness to his tone that surprises you, and it only amplifies the pleasure you feel as Lucius slips two fingers inside of you, your mouth falling open as you let out a breathy moan. “So beautiful.” He’s not furious—he’s consumed by the same fire threatening to burn all three of you alive.

“Tell us,” Lucius demands, his voice a smooth drawl as his digits curl just right, pressing onto the spongy, sensitive spot that makes your desire flare. “Tell us what you really want, or we’ll stop. Maybe leave you here all wet and needy.”

Marcus can feel the way you harshly swallow against his palm, brows twitching with amusement as he watches you intently, anticipating your answer. “I want both of you,” you confess. “I want you to ruin me, together.”

The air between you is laced with shared lust and hostility. Marcus shakes his head, a bitter, haughty laugh escaping him. “You really are a whore,” he says, his free hand gripping your chin again to force you to look at him. “And you’ll take whatever we give you. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” you whisper, the word a plea as Lucius withdraws his fingers only to bring them to your lips. He smirks when you part them willingly, sucking his fingers clean with a moan that makes Marcus’s eyes darken further.

“You’ve got her trained well,” He taunts, his gaze locking with Marcus’s over your shoulder.

“Enough talking,” Marcus snaps, his patience finally snapping, “Get her on the bed.”

Lucius doesn’t hesitate. He guides you backwards, sitting at the edge of the bed with you on his lap, undoing your bra and slipping it off your shoulders.

Your legs spread instinctively, your body already responding to the charged dominance of the two men using you.

Lucius’s lips claim yours in a kiss that’s as punishing as it is passionate. His hands roam freely over your body, kneading your breasts, pinching at your nipples while Marcus watches, his belt undone and his pants unbuttoned but still on.

He strokes himself slowly, his gaze fixed on the way Lucius toys with you.

When Lucius pulls back, a string of saliva connects your lips. He smirks, attention turning to Marcus. “She’s all yours. For now,” his tone drips with challenge.

Marcus steps forward, gripping your thighs. “Been thinking about tasting her all day. You’re not about to fuck that up for me.”

Then, with a confidence that makes your heart stutter, he drops to his fucking knees.

The motion is almost reverent, but the hunger in his eyes tells a different story. He hooks his fingers into the delicate lace of your panties, dragging them down your legs until they hang precariously from the sharp tip of your heels. His breath ghosts over your sticky, swollen folds, making your thighs quiver in anticipation.

“Fuck,” Marcus mutters under his breath, the words guttural, as if the sight alone is enough to wreck him. His mouth descends, and the moment his tongue laves over your folds, devouring you with reckless abandon, you cry out, your back arching instinctively against Lucius.

“Oh!” The exclamation is ripped from your throat, and Lucius grunts in response, his hands tugging at your sensitive nipples while his lips and teeth nip at your neck, leaving stinging kisses.

It’s overwhelming, the sensation of being worshipped and claimed by both of them.

The heat, the hands, the mouths—everything converges until you’re dizzy with pleasure. Your trembling fingers fumble behind you, reaching for Lucius’s pants, desperate for more.

It makes him chuckle low in your ear, the sound both amused and darkly approving.

“Impatient,” Lucius murmurs, helping you by undoing his pants and freeing his thick cock. You wrap your shaky hand around him, earning a hiss of pleasure as he hardens further under your touch.

Meanwhile, Marcus’s lips wrap around your fleshy pearl, sucking it into the hot, wet cavern of his mouth. His tongue flicks against the sensitive nub, your hips grinding against his face.

He doesn’t stop you—if anything, he encourages it, absolutely pussy drunk, groaning against your cunt as if your taste alone could sustain him.

Your juices smear across his lips and beard, the rough bristle of it adding another layer of sensation that makes your vision blur. The heat coils tighter in your core, your thighs trembling as Lucius’s cock twitches in your hand.

You have a devious idea. With a soft call of Marcus’s name, you draw his attention, your voice breathless and needy.

His dark eyes flick up to yours, his lips glistening with your slick. Without a word, you extend your hand, palm up, quirking a brow in silent request.

Marcus smirks, his smugness dripping with sinful intent, and spits into your hand. The obscene mixture of his saliva and your syrupy arousal pools in your palm, and you return to stroking Lucius’s cock with it. His sharp intake of breath tells you he appreciates the added slickness.

“Fuck,” Lucius curses, his hips jerking forward into your grip as your lips reconnect with his. Marcus, undeterred, dives back between your legs, his tongue and lips working in perfect rhythm.

The wet, lewd sounds of your hand on Lucius’s cock and Marcus devouring you echo through the room, an indecent symphony pushing you closer to the edge.

Your breaths grow ragged, your body taut like a bowstring. “I—I’m close,” you manage to stammer, your voice barely audible against Lucius’s mouth.

“Then come,” Marcus commands, his voice muffled against your heat but no less authoritative. “Come all over my tongue, darling. Take it.”

His teeth graze your clit just right, and the sharp sensation sends you careening over the edge. You scream his name, your body convulsing as your orgasm crashes over you, your release drenching Marcus’s face.

He doesn’t falter, drinking you greedily as though you’re the sweetest ambrosia. The fountain of fucking youth.

You collapse against Lucius, your body trembling and spent, but the men aren’t done with you. Not even close.

Marcus rises to his feet, his shirt already discarded, his chest heaving as he toes off his shoes and sheds the rest of his clothing. Lucius holds you close, his hands gentle as they trail over your skin, his lips pressing soft, almost tender kisses to your shoulder.

Then you’re maneuvered, heels taken off and bent over the edge of the bed.

Lucius scoots back just enough to rid himself of his remaining garments, his cock standing proud and throbbing as it brushes against your cheek. He cups your face, his thumb stroking your flushed skin as he guides the bulbous head to your lips.

Marcus leans down to kiss the back of your shoulder, his lips hot against your skin. “Show him what that pretty little mouth can do.”

You moan softly, your lips parting to take Lucius in. “I know exactly what she can do,” he says cockily, his voice dark with jealousy. “Don’t I, baby?”

Marcus growls from behind, envious, his large hands sliding over your ass, squeezing possessively as he lines himself up with your dripping, fluttering entrance.

You whimper, nodding weakly, but any response is cut off as Marcus thrusts forward, burying himself to the hilt in one unrelenting stroke.

You cry out, the stretch of him almost too much. He doesn’t pause, doesn’t give you a moment to adjust, his hands gripping your hips as he sets a punishing pace.

Lucius gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, holding you steady as he begins to rock his hips, driving himself deeper down your throat. “Goddamn,” he rasps, his face contorting in bliss.

The intensity of it all—the exhilarating roughness of Marcus inside you, the weight of Lucius on your tongue, the heat and dominance radiating from both of them—sends your mind spiraling.

Your body is a conduit for their pleasure, and the way they claim you, together, makes the ache in your core unbearable.

“She’s so fucking tight,” Marcus growls, his nails digging into your skin. “Even with two cocks, she could take more. Couldn’t you, carissima?”

Lucius pulls you back with his firm grip on your hair as he forces you to answer. “Y-Yes,” you stutter, tears pricking your eyes from the sheer intensity. “Both of you—however you want me.”

The words spark something feral in them both. Marcus spanks you hard, the sharp sting making you cry out, while Lucius smirks, his gaze burning with approval.

“She’s about to come again,” Marcus announces, his thrusts growing erratic. “I can feel it. Shit, I shouldn’t let her, but she looks so goddamn beautiful when she does.”

Lucius chuckles darkly, his hand stroking his cock as he watches you fall apart. “She really is something when she’s like this.”

Marcus’s hand cracks against your ass repeatedly in a rhythmic cadence, heightening the pressure building deep within you. Each spank forces a moan from your throat, your body yielding completely to him as he drives you closer to the edge.

When your orgasm hits, it’s shattering. Your muscles lock, trembling as you cry out his name, the intensity leaving you utterly spent. Your release coats Marcus’s thick cock, the mess dripping down between your thighs.

Lucius, ever the observer, watches with an almost languid fascination, his lips curling into a sly smirk.

He doesn’t try to reclaim your mouth, instead captivated by the way your features twist in pleasure.

The sounds leaving you are primal—animalistic—and you’re too far gone to care. Your body screams for respite, muscles quivering from the relentless pace Marcus set, but your desire eclipses your exhaustion.

You don’t want it to stop; you crave more, as if their touch is the only thing keeping you tethered to this earth.

Your pussy flutters around Marcus as if unwilling to let him go, and for a moment, he hesitates, groaning at the way you cling to him.

“Could die in your sweet cunt,” he sighs, pulling out reluctantly. His cock, glistening with your combined juices, twitches at the loss of your warmth. “But I want to see you bounce on his cock now. Go on—show me how well you can follow instructions.”

The command is firm and your body responds before your mind can catch up.

Lucius shifts back against the headboard, his expression one of lazy satisfaction as he pulls you onto his lap. His hands guide you with surprising gentleness, his fingers tracing soothing patterns along your hips as your lips meet his.

The kiss is slow, a stark contrast to the brutal pace Marcus had set, but it’s no less intense.

You feel Lucius’s cock slide through your swollen and used folds, the head teasing your oversensitive entrance before he thrusts inside.

You gasp into his mouth, wincing at the overwhelming sensation, but the pleasure quickly drowns out the ache as you adjust to him.

“Lucius,” you whimper, your voice high and pleading as your hips begin to rock. The friction makes you shudder, your body melting against his as he matches your rhythm.

“Just like that,” he groans, his head falling back against the headboard. His praise is genuine, his tone dripping with admiration. “Fuck, you’re amazing. Keep going—ride me, baby.”

You obey, rolling your hips with increasing determination before bouncing on him, the sound of your bodies meeting filling the room. You cling to him for support, your sweat slick tits pressing against his as he moves with you.

The bed dips, the shift pulling your attention away just as Marcus reappears, his towering figure imposing. His cock, messy with your release, bobs enticingly in front of you, making your mouth water. 

You don’t hesitate. Leaning forward, you press a teasing kiss to the base of his shaft before dragging your tongue up the length of him, from his heavy balls to the sensitive tip.

You repeat the action, savoring the salty taste of yourself on him before finally taking him into your mouth.

The room is a haze of sweat, lust, and the raw, carnal need radiating between the three of you.

Marcus curses above you as your mouth devours him, your lips dragging from his throbbing, veined shaft down to the soft weight of his balls.

You let your tongue explore, slurping and licking, his sparse pubic hairs tickling your cheeks.

“Shit,” he groans, his large hand resting at the back of your head, letting you work at your own pace. “You’re so good at this, you know that? Worshipping me like you’re fucking made for it.”

Your throat is hoarse from the cries you’ve let out and the sheer volume of cock you’ve taken, but you press on, sucking and tonguing at him.

Lucius’ nails dig into the soft flesh of your ass cheeks, leaving faint crescents in their wake as he thrusts upward into your drenched pussy, the force of his movements making your entire body jolt.

“Keep bouncing on it,” He spreads your ass cheeks wider, his fingers teasing your other hole, brushing lightly against the tight ring.

The sensation makes you gasp against Marcus, your pussy clenching hard around the cock inside of you.

Marcus lets out a low laugh, his thumb swiping over the sheen of sweat on your temple.

“You’ve been in this tight little ass before?” Lucius asks, his tone laced with curiosity and lust.

“Plenty of times,” Marcus replies smoothly, gripping your face to guide your mouth back onto him. “She takes it so well. Always does. Don’t you, dulcissima?”

You gurgle around his length, your throat convulsing as he pushes deep, cutting off your air supply.

The world starts to dim, stars dancing at the edges of your vision, but the dizzying combination of Marcus’s cock down your throat and Lucius’s relentless thrusts makes you shudder with pleasure.

Marcus finally releases you, pulling out with a slick pop, and a mess of saliva drips down your chin, your chest, mixing with the sweat already coating your skin.

You cough, your body trembling as you try to catch your breath, and when you look up, your face is a wreck—puffy lips, smeared makeup, eyes glassy.

“Please,” you manage to whisper, your voice broken but no less keen.

Marcus tilts your chin up, his thumb brushing your spit-slick lips. “So fucking dirty,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss you sloppily, uncaring of the mess between you.

His lips are selfish, his tongue curling against yours, his large hand cradling your face as if you’re his salacious treasure.

Lucius slows his thrusts, letting Marcus take over once he’s finished kissing you.

You’re pliant, boneless, too fucked-out to do anything but submit as Marcus positions himself behind you.

Your body is sandwiched between them, the heat of their skin against yours making your head swim. The room reeks of sex, their natural musk mingling with the sticky-sweet scent of your arousal.

“You got what you wanted, huh?” Lucius whispers against your ear, his lips brushing your neck.

“Both of us at the same time,” Marcus answers for you, his tone dripping with amusement as he strokes himself, the other hand spreading your ass.

His thumb circles your puckered hole, pressing just enough to make you moan.

“Fuck yes,” you pant, a smirk pulling at the corners of your swollen lips despite how utterly wrecked you feel.

The two men exchange a look—a silent agreement passing between them.

Marcus spits, the warm glob of saliva landing perfectly on your tight hole. His cock, wet with your earlier attention, glistens as he smears the spit across himself, preparing you.

“Relax,” Lucius coos, his hand brushing your hair back. His lips press against your jaw then the corner of your mouth. “Take it like you always do.”

Marcus pushes in slowly, the stretch almost unbearable, and your breath hitches, eyes rolling back as your body adjusts to the intrusion.

The sensation of being completely filled—Lucius’s cock buried in your pussy, Marcus’s girthy length breaching your ass—is overwhelming.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, your nails digging into Lucius’s shoulders as Marcus inches deeper, his pace agonizingly deliberate.

“Always so tight, and ready” Marcus growls, his voice thick with restraint.

Lucius lets out a low chuckle, his hands roaming your body, one moving to your breast to tweak a sensitive nipple. “She always is. And she loves it, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you cry out, your voice trembling, desperate. “I love it.”

They move in tandem, their cocks filling you, stretching you, driving you mad with pleasure as they fuck you mercilessly.

You’re lost in it all; the pain, the rhapsody, the sound of their grunts and groans mingling with your cries as your body is pushed to its limit.

It’s all a blur of sin. Both men push you closer and closer to the brink of oblivion.

Marcus drives into your ass, his fingers leaving bruises on the meat of your hips, while Lucius pistons upward from beneath you, his cock dragging against that sweet spot inside your pussy that makes your vision white out.

The thin barrier of flesh separating their cocks as they thrust into you sends jolts of ecstasy coursing through your body, your nerves raw and exposed.

You feel alive—every touch, every degrading word, every deserving thrust driving you closer to the precipice.

Their voices are a cacophony in your ears, their sharp remarks intertwining with your own ragged moans.

“Look at her,” Marcus sneers from behind you, his hand coming down in a sharp slap against your ass, forcing a yelp from your lips. “She’s fucking loving this. Such a filthy little thing, taking both our cocks like it’s the only thing she’s good for.”

You can’t form words, your head lolling between them as their bodies claim yours. Every stroke blurs the line between pain and pleasure, their belittling words fanning the flames in your gut.

“Slut,” Marcus taunts, his voice dripping with mockery as his hand slides up your back, pushing you further down against Lucius’s chest.

Lucius’s hand snakes between your legs, his fingers finding your swollen clit.

The added stimulation is too much. With a strangled cry, your final orgasm explodes through you, ripping a scream from your throat as you convulse around them.

“Fuck!” you shout, your voice cracking as your body arches and you reach blindly for the both of them to anchor yourself. “Marcus! Lucius!”

“That’s it, scream for us,” Marcus mocks, his voice rough as he continues pounding into your ass.

Lucius grips your waist, holding you flush against him, his teeth grazing your shoulder as he murmurs darkly, “Gonna fill this pussy up, and you’re not going to waste a single drop, you hear me?”

You nod weakly, your body limp against him as both men drive into you, their relentless rhythm dragging you through the haze of overstimulation.

“Poor girl is out of it,” Marcus taunts, slapping your sore ass again. “Come on, hang on a little longer.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes from the intensity of it all. It is almost too much, and for a fleeting moment, you consider tapping out. But the way their bodies command yours, the sound of their growls, and the sheer force of their presence keep you in the game.

Marcus’s breathing grows labored, his hands clutching your hips right above where Lucius is holding you as he thrusts into you wildly a few more times before he freezes, his cock pulsing deep inside you.

“Fucking. Take. It,” he snarls as his release floods your ass in hot, thick ribbons.

Your body twitches against Lucius’s as Marcus lets out a satisfied grunt, and he is the last to follow, as he forces you down onto his cock entirely, holding you there while he empties himself into your pussy. 

You’re spent, your body trembling and boneless as they finally slow, their brawny hands roaming over your skin as if soothing the raw, frenzied mess they’ve made of you.

The exhaustion finally catches up, an almost unbearable heaviness dragging at your limbs as Marcus and Lucius pull out of you.

You barely register their murmured words or the gentle way they clean you up, your body too drained to offer anything more than faint whimpers.

When your head hits the pillow, lying on your back beneath the linens, sleep claims you almost instantly, as though your body has surrendered entirely.

You don’t know how much time passes before you stir again. The room is still dark, save for the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains.

Everything is quiet—no voices, no sounds of movement— and you blink, fully groggy and disoriented.

Every inch of you is sore, your legs leaden, your pussy and ass throbbing with the aftermath of their brutal attentions. Shifting slightly, you wince, and the movement stirs a dull, lingering heat in your core.

“Carissime,” the familiar endearment pulls you fully from the fog of sleep, your heart skipping as you feel large hands seeking you out, pulling you into a broad chest that you recognize all too well.

“Marcus,” you croak, your throat burning with the effort, the rough sounds of earlier cries and screams still lingering in your vocal cords.

Your words devolve into a coughing fit, and Marcus shifts immediately, reaching over to flick on the lamp beside the bed.

Warm light floods part of the room, making you squint and illuminating his strong features, softened with concern as he hands you a glass of water he must have prepared.

“Drink.”

You gulp the water down greedily, the coolness soothing your parched throat. When the glass is empty, you lower it shakily, only for Marcus to take it from your hands and set it aside.

His hand slides to your back, stroking it in slow, deliberate circles.

“What…” you start, your thoughts tangled, unsure where to begin.

Marcus hushes you, tipping your chin up with his thumb and forefinger, his dark eyes boring into yours. “You made a mess of things, you know that, right?”

You can only stare at him, your lips parting in confusion as he holds your gaze captive.

“You know I don’t like sharing,” he continues, his voice deceptively gentle. “And you still went out and found some other dick to hop on... Not just with anyone, either, but with Lucius.” His lips curl into a wry smile, almost amused at the irony.

The mention of your other lover makes your heart race.

“My sweet girl,” Marcus goes on, stroking your thigh beneath the sheets with his free hand. “This is my fault, really. For not prioritizing you the way I should have.”

There’s a flicker of guilt in his expression, but it vanishes as quickly as it appears. “But it could never be that way. You know this. I told you from the start I’d never put you at the forefront. And I meant it.”

His words sting, soft though they are, and tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You don’t know where he’s leading this conversation, but it feels like he’s holding your heart right in the palm of his hand.

“I convinced the boy to keep our secret,” Marcus continues, his thumb brushing against your lower lip as he watches you intently. “But you’re too much of a temptation to keep around. I should fire you. Let you go.”

Your breath catches, panic surging momentarily until his hand moves higher, cupping your cheek.

“But I’m a selfish man that craves your cunt,” he admits, his lips curling in a predatory smirk. “Your mouth. Your body.”

His hand presses firmer against your thigh, as if to emphasize his claim, while his thumb continues its tantalizing stroke over your lip.

“So I’m—we’re—keeping you around,” Marcus declares, the weight of his decision settling heavily in the space between you.

You should feel insulted, degraded even. But instead, the ache between your legs throbs with want, remembering how he and Lucius took you apart.

“It’s the only way I can make this work without losing you. It’ll kill me to know you’ll roll around in bed with him, but it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make to keep seeing your beautiful face every day. To keep my share of the firm.”

So this is what it’s all about—it isn’t about love, it’s about men and their entitlement, their rivalry, their need to possess and control.

Marcus tilts his head, studying you as if waiting for your response. “That is, if you want it,” he adds. “I have no interest in keeping you here against your will.”

The opening is there—the chance to leave this mess behind. To reclaim some shred of dignity and walk away from the entanglement of lust and rivalry these men represent.

But then the delicious ache in your body pulls at you, reminding you of how good it felt to have both of them claim you, how intoxicating it is to be the center of their desire, their depravity.

You don’t ask about his wife or any of that other bullshit. Instead, your lips curve into a saccharine smile, and you nod, your voice steady despite the chaos in your mind.

“I want this,” you say simply.

Marcus’s eyes darken with satisfaction, his smirk growing as he cups your face and kisses you—messy and bruising, claiming you once more.

If you’re a bad person for choosing this, then so be it. Bad people always find their place, and yours is right here, tangled in their dangerous games.

[jolapeno]

FIC RECS: NOVEMBER EDITION

welcome to what i read in november across tumblr, AO3 and books i held in my hand. i have a tbr as long as my arm, and i know a thousand more things to read outside of that. i would say there's some order to this madness, but that's a lie. pleaseeeee remember to read all warnings before reading. + shoutout to @pedgito who told me to just do this and inspired me to finally give this a go.

a, angst | f, fluff | s, smut

joel miller

birthday wishes by @punkshort | f, s | oneshot

difficult by @schnarfer | a, s | oneshot

don't have to wait by @toxicanonymity | softdark, s | vampire!joel

never been this far by @yopossum | f | oneshot

crazy on you by @goodwithcheese | wip series

birds of a feather by @evolnoomym | threesome

me on you by @luxurychristmaspudding | s | oneshot

javier peña

neighbors by @gothcsz | a, s | wip collection

bad idea by @murder-wife | s | oneshot

golosa by @iamasaddie | s | oneshot

touch tank by @thundermartini | s | oneshot *read on AO3

beyond saving by @softpascalito | a, hurt | oneshot *read on AO3

frankie morales

frankie gladiator drabble by @intheorangebedroom | s | drabble

all the things we never said by @javierpena-inatacvest | wip series

the photo by @aurorawritestoescape | fluff | drabble

call it what you want by @thelightsandtheroses | wip series

more than letters by @almostfoxglove | wip series

not even the thunder, not by @morallyinept | f, s | oneshot

endurance by @schnarfer | complete series

game changer by @kedsandtubesocks | f, s | oneshot

neighbourhood watch + sequel by @joelalorian | f | oneshot

how to fall in love by @berryispunk + actionmole | f | oneshot *read on AO3

sweet lies by @lavendertales | complete series *read on AO3

home by @savedyounine | f | oneshot *read on AO3

they don't know by hellfire_cactus | f | oneshot *read on AO3

frankie with benefits by AlexandraLyman | s | oneshot *read on AO3

better love by harleythegeekqueen | s, f | oneshot *read on AO3

to feel your body by @flightlessangelwings | s, f | oneshot *read on AO3

something new by @prolix-yuy | s, f | complete *read on AO3

dave york

the road not taken by @guiltyasdave | f, a | oneshot

dieter bravo

staystitch by @goodwithcheese | f | oneshot

so it goes by @whocaresstillthelouvre | f, comfort | oneshot

three months by @bitchesuntitled | f, s | oneshot

lucien de leon (flores)

he knows by @almostempty | s | oneshot

fortnight by @pedgito | s | oneshot *read on AO3

max philips

warm hands, cold heart by @secretelephanttattoo | a | oneshot

the books i've held (or read on my kindle)*

i hope this finds you well by natalie sue

the pairing by casey mcquiston

betty by tiffany mcdaniel

seven days in june by tia williams

the seven year slip by ashley poston

the husbands by holly gramazio

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Please.

Pairing: Joel Miller x gn!reader Words count: 257, Drabble Rating: +18, MDNI Tags: GN reader (it's you!), reader has hair long enough to be tugged, no other description is given so I really hope a multitude of you can identify ❤️, that’s basically a blowjob thing, you know. Based on this gif:

And this image I found on Pinterest a while ago

I wanted to do this for a long time, finally figured out something today heheheh If anyone wants to be added or removed from the taglist, please let me know. Thanks to anyone who reads, I hope you like it ♥️

He’s yours, and you still beg.

Kneeling in front of him, his leaking shaft before your eyes

And then his husky deep voice graveling in your ears

“I like the way you still say please. While you’re looking up at me”

Please

Mouth full of his cock until your throat hurts

Please

Hair grazing the tip of your nose

Please

Him tugging at your hair to guide your pace

Please

Him praising you and talking you through it, calling you his perfect angel

Please

His red swollen tip throbbing on your tongue, sliding against your mouth’s roof

Please

His deep autumn eyes fixed on yours, a raven tone of ink intently looking down upon you

Please

His mouth agape, letting out whimpers and groans

Please

His eyebrows furrowed with that little crease you love traced right in the middle

Please

That little dimple poking out underneath his stubble beard

Please

His breathe short, heavy and hot filling the air in the room

Please

Your head bobbing up and down, your lips strained against his hot skin

Please

Obscene squelching sounds of your sucking

Please

Your hand gently cupping his heavy balls caressing softly

Please

Your knees feeling sore against the floor

Please

your saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth

Please

His cum spilling onto your tongue, musky and bitter

Please

His thumb gently brushing on your chin to clean his spent there

Please

Your body molding for him, your heart fluttering, your entire soul burning with desire and need

Please please please

Fuck me, use me, make me good

Keep me.

Love me.

A/N: I really hope it worked 😏

tag list: @aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @baronessvonglitter @almostempty @harriedandharassed @thundermartini @pedrostories ❤️

[slimybeth69]

Rating: excplict

thanks to @bonezone44 for this idea- if people like this I might make it into a fun little series

Summary: After the civilized world you once knew came to an end-- the men that survived... well they just take, take, take. Growing tired of having things taken from you-- you have a hankerin' to take somethin' for yourself... and make him perfect.

warnings: reader is crazy, joel is a non willing participant-- at first. heavy on the non-con/dub-con. Eventual punishment, cockwarming, snuggling, pet names (for joel) unprotected p in v. so many more if I keep going with this.

This is just a little drabble I wrote to go along with that stupid thing I made in canva.

Girl Dinner <- the first installment.

Oh boy. Mister-man has some big feelings, and he's trying to let you know.

He is struggling— like, so fucking hard, against his bonds that tether him to the chair by ropes that are cutting deep into the skin on his wrists.

You lean in close, pointing to your right eye, which is still black and blue, but thankfully not as swollen anymore, and frown at him. "This hurt!" You exclaim. "It hurt so bad, and you said you were gunna be nice. Why'd ya' lie t'me?"

His eyes are blown wide with fury and desperation. But he cannot scream, his voice muffled by the duct tape stretched tight across his mouth. Clad in only boxer shorts, a thin t-shirt, and socks, he looks vulnerable and exposed.

It's so fucking sexy.

He's still really mad; which sucked!

"I thought after three weeks you'd be begging me to take you upstairs, honey," you purr seductively, taking a step behind him, out of his line of sight. "Instead you hit me!?" You give Joel a good thwack against the side of his head with your open hand.

Not enough to really hurt him— that's coming soon— but enough to let him know to cut the shit. It's getting old, and now you want a fun, willing participant to play with you… and not someone who is going to act like they don't like… all this.

Joel grumbles something from behind the duct tape and it's honestly lost of deaf ears because you don't care for what he has to say right now, it's never nice or sweet. It's always mean— that's why he's got the duct tape on.

Soon.

Soon the big-dumb-idiot will be singing your name, happily, and without restraints.

He's just gotta wear something else first.

You slip the shock collar around his thick neck while you're still behind him.

He doesn't like it, at all. He thrashes and writhes, and makes a desperate, pleading groan from behind deep in his throat.

"Well, you wanna act like all them other dogs out there, you're gon' get treated like one," you press a kiss to the top of his skull, and pull back before he can rear his head forward and smash it against your nose.

He's going to try-- he always does.

Slowly, you wind your way around him, trailing a finger along his sweat-slick forehead and crawl into his lap. He struggles at first, until he sees the remote in your hand.

"Gonna zap all the bad outta you… make you perfect for me." You sigh, wrapping your arms around your neck. "Have an idea...for how you can hug me-- and not hit me."

To be continued...?

tagging people that showed interest--- @lilac-boo @gothcsz @sp00kymulderr @xdaddysprincessxx @pedrospookie @almostempty @creepycorbeaux

tell me if I should go on??

thanks to @saradika-graphics for the dividers.

[sunshinehaze1]

my 2024 favorite things (that others have made)

I read a lot of words this year. A LOT. 🫣

~8 million words (yes, I kept track 🤓 for S&G) that made me laugh, cry, feel squishy, inspired, and continue to live rent-free in my brain. Below are some of the words I loved the most. This is by no means an exhaustive list. I compiled mostly from memory and I’m sure I’ve missed some. A lot of y’all are just churning out 10/10, no notes gems on the regular and it is truly inspiring. Thank you for sharing your beautiful brains with the world! 🫶🏻 I can’t wait to read more!

18+, MDNI. Please read the warnings on each respective fic.

Joel:

Halcyon @justagalwhowrites

Meet Me in the Back @joelstummy

Dress up Joel @covetyou

So Much to Lose @auteurdelabre

Never made it as a wise man @almostempty

Daddy Can Fix It @baronessvonglitter

Roommates @punkshort

Cover Me Up @almostfoxglove

Teacher’s Pet @javiscigarette

Touch @eff4freddie

Click Here @strang3lov3

Maintenance Request @burntheedges

The Falling @getitoutofmymindwrites

Guilty Pleasure @for-a-longlongtime

See How She Rides @arcanefox207

Defying Algorithms @yxtkiwiyxt

Javi P:

Paranoid Heart @goodwithcheese

Pump @morallyinept

Fantasize @gothcsz

Lost & Found @oliveksmoked

Pretty Boy @joelmillerisapunk

A Litany of Lethe @kiwisbell

Frankie:

The Pilot and His Girl @avastrasposts

Do Me Yourself @jolapeno

Tonight You Belong to Me @intheorangebedroom

Brand New Babygirl @tieronecrush

Learning Curves @moonlitbirdie

Table for Two @hellishjoel

Transient Nights @pedgito

Sympathy for the Devil @encasedinobsidian

The Realm of Love @80ssong

Other characters:

Marcus Pike - Your Ride, Best Trip @qveerthe0ry

Dieter - Purple Haze @schnarfer

Mr. Ben - Visiting @ladamedusoif

Din - Fifteen @whocaresstillthelouvre

Ezra - In The Dark @frannyzooey

Javi G - Rhapsody in Blue @maggiemayhemnj

Dave York - Wildest Dreams @guiltyasdave

Marcus Acacius - Work of Art @ak-vintage

Multiple characters:

Rumor Has It @senorabond - Javi P x Marcus P. x reader

Listen/Watch/Touch @luxurychristmaspudding - Joel, Frankie & Santi x reader

Baby, I’m-a Want You @perotovar - Joel & Javi P

❤️

[hellishjoel]

HOT DILF SUMMER CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

hot dilf summer challenge post

☼ outage by @taeslarityy (dilf joel miller x curvy f!reader)

☼ the dilf's prayer by @miss-oranje-disco-dancer (dilf joel miller x reader)

☼ neighbors with benefits masterlist by @joelswritingmistress (dilf joel miller x f!reader)

☼ dirty laundry by @taeslarityy (dark dilf dave york x f!reader)

☼ who's your daddy? by @gutsby (dilf stepdad!joel x f!reader)

☼ nothing like some neighborly love by @tofics (dilf joel miller x f!reader)

☼ wedding crashers by @yxtkiwiyxt (dilf joel miller x f!reader)

☼ a neighbor in need by @auteurdelabre (dilf joel miller x f!reader)

☼ take the heat away, make the girl stay by @noceurous (dilf dave york x f!reader)

☼ this could have been an email by @auteurdelabre (dilf dave york x f!reader)

☼ daddy's girl by @clawdeewritesfanfic ( dilf dbf!tim rockford x f!reader)

☼ guilty pleasure by @for-a-longlongtime (dilf dbf!joel miller x reader)

☼ welcomed distraction by @dc418writes (dilf dbf!frankie morales x reader)

☼ never made it as a wise man by @almostempty (dilf joel miller x f!reader)

☼ like tiramisu by @coquettepascal (dilf joel miller x f!reader)

☼ you'll just have to taste me by @thetriumphantpanda (dilf joel miller x f!reader)

☼ i'd like to... by @ak-vintage (dilf din djarin x plus size f!reader)