#dumbstruck date | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pedgito · 6 months ago

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𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐃 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄 | Dave York x reader

summary | Dave was the exception to your rule, fortunately. But, he still wanted to do things the right way, his way.

author's note | @pr0ximamidnight is partially responsible for this, constantly feeding me ideas and tiktoks, which birthed this baby.

content warning | 18+ smut, divorced!dave, soft-ish!dave, age gap (unspecified), dating apps, g*n play (consensual), oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, this has an unnecessary amount of backstory, i wrote this during gremlin hours don't judge me

word count —6k

They never make it past the third date. Ever.

Except for Dave.

You’ll give him credit where it was due–he was older, wiser, and more charming than any man who you’ve swept right for on these awful dating apps you’ve tried out in the past year. And by an even crazier chance, you had met him in person; a run-in at a coffee shop that would have usually ended in one of you spilling coffee on the other, but actually ended in him stealing your drink and you his own.

He’d only been halfway paying attention when they called out the order instead of the name, subconsciously assuming he was next, he had swiped it up without a thought and left you dumbstruck and being slid a black coffee with a look of apology from the barista who knew he had just walked off with your drink.

Usually, you would brush it off. Spend another fifteen minutes waiting for a fresh drink, but not that time. You had chased him down, a block from the coffee shop and a sharp right and you were on his heels, his face buried in his phone and the coffee cup hanging from his fingertips in his right hand, clearly undrank.

“Hey,” You shout exasperated, but he doesn’t whip his head around like you expect. You huff, jogging a little closer until you can tap at his shoulder and as if his reflexes had kicked in, he turns on his heels and has a sudden look of annoyance, not much different than the one he held in the coffee shop but his brow was more pinched—until you hold up the coffee cup that belonged to him.

It had a name on the ticket—you looked it over. Dave. Black coffee. Six shots of espresso.

Your eyes widen at the sheer amount and you pass it over, watching as he stuffed his phone in his pocket, “Six shots? That’s—”

“Not nearly enough,” He grumbles, swapping out the drinks with a surprisingly gentle grip.

He’s dressed for work, donning a charcoal gray suit with a maroon button-up. He looks official, stoic, and serious, intimidating in a way that makes you want to shrink away.

He takes a peek at your order before he passes it off completely, smirking slightly at the sheer amount of caffeine you had ordered for yourself—not in the form of a straight black coffee and an insane amount of espresso shots, but it was calling a spade a spade.

You both clearly had your vices.

After that, he’s a familiar face. Someone you see the Monday mornings after a terrible Sunday night date, rubbing at tired eyes as you reach for your coffee, and eventually he finds himself more curious than he should be, wondering how someone at your age could seem so…burdened. Not that it wasn’t possible, but it was clear that you never ended your weekend on a high note, and burying the shittiness under a mountain of sugar and syrup was your way of coping.

Fortunately, the coffee machine had been on the fritz one particular Monday which lent you a moment of conversation that was surprisingly refreshing given your unfamiliarity with each other.

He slaps the back of his phone against his palm as he does a quick glance over your figure, hunched under the protection of your sweater you chew at your bottom lip, staring down at your feet.

“Rough weekend?” He asks casually, looking over at you curiously.

You could smell his aftershave, the rich scent of expensive cologne.

You weren’t sure why he was speaking to you, but you answered anyway.

“That easy to spot?” You volley with him, glancing up at him briefly before leaning into your hip.

“Comes with experience,” He shrugs, seeming far more approachable than you would have expected. You conspicuously track your eyes over him, how perfectly put together he was, not a piece of his outfit out of place, aside from the prominent tan line on his ring finger.

Married. Or…was married. You didn’t feel it was your position to throw that kind of question at a stranger.

“Oh,” You feign intrigue, feeling the words slip out before you can stop them, “plenty of experience in the field of dealing with men who can’t be bothered to hold a thirty minute conversation and expect you to fuck them after the first date?”

You’re expecting him to balk and walk away, wonder what the hell was wrong with you—but instead, he smirks again. More prominent than the first time.

“Sorry,” You apologize meekly, “that was—It’s been a rough morning.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dave brushes it off, his name sounding in your head again as it comes to you, “and no—I don’t, but still—a bad weekend is a bad weekend.”

You raise your eyebrows slightly as you nod in agreement and it is within that small distraction of conversation that the machine comes roaring to life again, but instead of walking toward the counter to order, Dave slips in front of you.

You have half the mind to tell him to fuck off for cutting, but when you hear your coffee order spilling out of his mouth you stare at him wildly, giving him a look of confusion after he pays, scribbling away at a receipt before he turns and walks silently toward the other side of the shop to fetch his coffee order. You follow wordlessly, obediently as he nods at you.

“Consider it returning the favor for the first time I screwed up with our orders,” He tells you, smiling at the barista she slides the two cups into his hands—he shoves yours into your open palm, receipt tucked against the cup with his thumb as it transfers to you, “and fuck those guys.”

You laugh softly, sipping gingerly at your coffee as he departs with a half-smile, footsteps clicking against the tile floor as he departs with a hand shoved into his pocket as he shoulders open the door. The receipt is long forgotten and tucked into your pocket.

It isn’t until hours later as you're throwing your coat over the back of your couch that the paper floats to the floor, staring at you like it had its own set of eyes. You pluck it up curiously and pull apart the crumbled-up ball, noting the smudged black ink scribbled on the back of the receipt.

Third date is the rule, right?

Followed by his name and a haphazardly scribbled number.

So, not married. Definitely not married.

You text him without a second thought, finding that his response is almost immediate.

Suddenly, you needed to know all about him.

—

And you made that your mission.

Texts turn into calls, sparse and spread out but it was kept light in the beginning. General small talk, and occasional flirting, but still you had far too many questions. The one thing you do learn is that he was divorced, not newly, thankfully. It had been a couple of years and he admits very early on that he doesn’t do this often.

Whatever that meant.

He’s older, but you don’t feel the need to address that. He knows you’re in college, mid-twenties, but beyond that, you’re just a puzzle he’s piecing together on his own. Learning about you over the following weeks with a refreshing interest you haven’t been privy to before.

Your first date happens on a Saturday, a late night and last minute plan due to his often changing work schedule. It was shitty food at a small diner in town but it didn’t matter.

Eventually, he does slip up and admit that his work is freelance—but under what pretenses you weren’t sure, always skirting around the subject. And usually, you would see the immediate red flags, but that doesn’t happen. He seemed like a private person and maybe over time…

He doesn’t ask you the much-anticipated question after your first date, but he does kiss you.

It was soft and quick, fleeting in a moment as he walks you to your doorstep and leaves you reaching for more, but all you’re left with is a smug smile as he climbs into his car.

The second date is fancier, a few weeks later between occasion phone calls that would last longer than they needed, but you didn’t mind, sometimes Dave liked listening to the sound of your voice, he’d admitted at one point—Dave had planned this date out in advance at a nice restaurant in the uptown area of the city, giving you dress code requirements, exceptions, and all of it is entirely overwhelming.

But, it fades the moment his hand touches your waist.

There wasn’t a feeling of fear or an immediate urge to run away. It was protection, the warm and steady touch of him at your back just felt safe and it went against every fiber of your being to feel this way about someone so easily. But, the way Dave winks down at you as you fumble with the bracelet hanging loosely around your wrist reminds you that you have nothing to worry about.

The dinner is ridiculous, for you—convoluted meal courses with silly names that have you furrowing your brow in confusion as you look up at Dave who only seems entertained by your amusement, feeding you a piece of the shared dessert with the single fork they had served with the plate. It was intimate and shocking how easily you gave in tointo it and followed his lead.

Trusted him.

You aren’t sure if it was his original plan, but he ended up at your place later that night.

He does walk you to your door again, but you’re not as easy to let him go this time. A few flutes of wine in your system and you’re far too clingy to let him slip away—begging, pleading for a few extra minutes.

“I’ll give you a quick tour,” You tell him softly, a sultry tone to your voice as your bottom lip pulls between your teeth and your hand's slide off the lapel of his peacoat, dragging him backwardinto the door that leads to your apartment building, “seriously—just a few minutes.”

“Sweetheart,” The endearment slips out despite himself, but he doesn’t thwart you off, his hand twisting and intertwining with your own as you lead him toward the elevators.

“Third date rule, remember?” You tell him, smiling sweetly, “Don’t worry, I’ll behave.”

“I’m counting on it.”

—

As promised, Dave only stays for a short time. However, the tour was a total lie.

You kiss him gently as the door closes behind him. Quick, closed-mouth pecks that are driving Dave insane, but he grips your biceps, pulling you back with ease.

“Behave,” The gruffness in his voice brings you back to the surface, “you promised.”

Dave has never lacked self-control, but with you, it was nearly impossible.

Luckily for him, you felt like following your self-set rule, but it doesn’t stop you from cuddling up on your couch for a brief time, a hand combing through his thick, perfectly quaffed hair—though the same couldn’t be said now, slightly askew as he squeezes at your thigh when you pull at a few strands too hard.

“Ask it,” Dave says suddenly, seeing the apprehensive look in your eye, “whatever it is.”

“I’m just curious,” You tell him honestly but quietly, your eyes dragging up his face until they meet his own, “about you—I feel like I know bits and pieces, but nothing…real.”

He grunts, a non-committal response.

“I can keep your secrets,” You tell him like a sacred promise, “no judgment, either.”

His thumb drags over your nose in a sweet, gentle manner before it lands at your chin, cupping the side of your face as he begins to speak in the quiet room.

“I have two kids,” He admits, “—two girls with my ex-wife. We share custody but because of work…it makes it harder to see them often.”

You make a face, one that conveys sadness, a feeling of empathy as his gaze drifts off behind you while his fingers massage gently into the back of your neck.

“Don’t do that,” He pleads, “don’t feel like you need to–”

“You are the first guy in eight months that hasn’t tried to fuck me within two hours of meeting me,” You tell him, a soft giggle bubbling in your throat, “There is no need, Dave.”

“It’s taking…a lot of effort on my behalf,” He admits with a soft laugh, his normal monotone and emotionless face cracking with a smile, “I’m trying.”

“I just—I don’t want you to feel like you need to be careful with me,” You assure him, “I won’t break that easily. I’ve shared with you, I want you to feel like you can do that with me.”

“Tell me something else about yourself then,” He waits, your mind trialing away for a moment, thinking.

“I feel like I never have control over anything—my life, my relationships,” You sigh, “it…it is a lot deeper, I think. But, I don’t know how to fix that. Sometimes it feels pointless.”

Dave nods slowly, and thoughtfully.

“I can teach you control, sweetheart.” Dave assures you, “Do you want that?”

The intensity in his eyes is new, but it doesn’t scare you. Instead, you find yourself nodding obediently. He kisses you that night again, more intensely than he ever has, a hand fisted into your hair, your body curled around him and it is nearly impossible to let him go.

—

The third date is intimate, as you had expected.

He invites you to his place and it takes you a few minutes after hearing him say it for the words to click in your head, until he reiterates it again and you agree eagerly.

It was how you ended up on his couch after a full, delicious meal that Dave had cooked you himself and the drone of a local news channel playing on the television as you curledl up at his side, taking in the sights of his own apartment. It was so…detached. No family pictures, no drawings, no personal artifacts outside of expensive art and sculptures that had to cost more than a month of your own rent, maybe even two.

“How can you afford this?” You ask harmlessly, eyes dragging up to the gaudy chandelier hanging overhead, “I mean, your living room is the size of my entire apartment.”

“I’m not a starving college student,” He jokes, taking your playful jab in stride, “—this is just a temporary space, sweetheart. I…travel a lot for work, I’m only ever here maybe one week out of the month really.”

It explained why your dates were so spaced out and why phone calls and texts were preferred over an in-person meeting. But, he’s still skirting around the topic and it heightens your worry the tiniest bit.

“My turn to ask a question?”

You nod.

“If I had tried to fuck you on the first date, would you have let me?”

You smirk slightly, knowing the answer despite your distaste for the other men.

“I’ve had…really bad experiences any time I break that rule,” You admit, “it’s another situation where I feel like I’m losing control and it quickly turns into something I’m not interested in. I want to say no, but the answer is probably yes.”

Dave’s eyes go pensive, his gaze dragging to the small gap between you both, the arm slung over your shoulder stopping for a moment, but his touch remains, his fingertips against the slope of your neck and he’s fighting something within himself. You can see it.

“Just say it, Dave,” You find yourself pleading with him, “I think we’re beyond the realm of a third date. Whatever it is, I promise not to judge.”

“I know I told you I work freelance, but it’s…more than that,” He looks around, wondering if he should flee now and escape this conversation, but your gaze is heavy and unrelenting, “I used to work for the government, but things happened. Now, people hire me too—”

The gears are working overtime in your head, putting things together as he speaks, and really—it should have been more obvious, that far disconnected from his personal life, and the unwillingness to share information so freely.

“You’re a hitman?” You break the tension and spit out the word he’s dancing so carefully around.

“More or less,” He nods, carefully examining you to gauge your reaction.

“I mean, you’re not just…going around killing innocent people, are you?”

“Only the people that deserve it,” He doesn’t want to go into detail, already seeing the disconnect on your face, “It isn’t—it’s not something I’m doing often and it isn’t shit that I take lightly. It’s also not at all ethical and if you want nothing to do with me now, knowing that, I can respect that—”

“Would you kill me?”

Dave looks at you incredulously, “No—what kind of question is—”

“Then—” You shrug, “it isn’t my business, unless you want to make it my business.”

“You are…something,” Dave says aloud, his thoughts trickling from his mind to his mouth.

You smile, tilting your head as you rest it against the back of his couch.

“Did you still want a lesson in control?” Dave asks curiously.

You nod silently.

“Do you trust me?”

“So much,” You admit, “it’s a little embarrassing.”

Dave sits up then, nodding toward a far-off room you hadn’t been privy to exploring yet.

“Follow me.”

—

His bedroom is large, but it isn’t anything surprising. It’s dull colors and clean, almost sterile. But, you still wander—and he allows it, lingering as he unbuttons his cufflinks and strips himself of his button-up shirt. You run your hands over the soft sheets on his bed and climb on carefully, feeling your dress ride up with the movement, the cold touch of the comforter bringing you back to reality.

“I wanna try something,” Dave admits, tilting his head to meet your gaze from across the room, “—and I need to hear it again, that you trust me.”

“I do,” you nod easily, “I trust you.”

“Take your dress off,” He instructs and you’re slightly confused, but you follow his direction and pull the dress over your head, bare breasts spilling out with the lack of bra you decided to go without and Dave’s gaze lingers, heats up, his movements only slightly more hurried as he works at his slacks, “lay down—close your eyes.”

You laugh quietly at the absurdity of his clinical tone of order, but the weight of him as the mattress dips has your body pulsing at the thought, cunt throbbing at the smallest hint of his smell that you’ve become so accustomed to.

“I’m going to put something in your hand,” Dave tells you, “only open your eyes when I say so, alright?”

You nod obediently and unfurl your hand, feeling a heavy weight press into your palm and another hand trail down the inside of your thigh, squeezing at the junction where your inner thigh meets your cunt, and then his other hand is grabbing your hand, and curling it around the object and your senses do the work for you, unfortunately—

“Dave, is that a—” Your heart races in a panic as your eyes rip open, “is that a fucking gun?”

“Baby, calm down,” He soothes, and weirdly, it works, “the safety is on.”

He retrieves the gun that has fallen from your grip and returns it, dragging the weight up until your hand is resting between your legs, the barrel of the gun pressing into the skin just above his belly button, watching as his bare stomach flexes against the cool touch of the gun. It was then that you had a moment to admire—you figured this line of work required him to keep some kind of strict regime for himself, but it wasn’t clear until now. He’s wide, and broad, but you already knew that much. He’s not ripped in a sense, but he looks—feels strong, his tight grip on the inside of your thigh an immediate sign and he breathes, pushing against the barrel.

“You want control? I’m giving it to you.”

“Dave, this seems a little—”

He guides the barrel down, down, until the weight of it catches against the front of your underwear and guides your hand in slow, careful circles as the tip of the gun catches your clit and you find your pussy quivering at the action, but not out of fear.

You were turned on and Dave knew it.

“I want you to be comfortable around it,” He admits, and oddly, it makes your heart ache, “but if you don’t like this—we can stop.”

You find the gun dragging back toward his abdomen at his words and the smile on his face is immediate. Dave doesn’t move a fucking inch.

“No.”

“There’s my girl.”

His thumb replaces the barrel, rubbing slow circles over your clothed clit, and his eyes are locked on you, somehow managing to make everything else fade in comparison.

“Can I taste you?”

It sounds lewd, more than it should. Like an animal dying for a taste, He can feel the warm, wet spot forming in the patch of underwear covering your cunt and he needs it, but only if you’ll allow it.

You nod, the barrel slowly crawling up his chest as he lowers himself, fingers hooking into your underwear as he pulls them down, tilting his head up to look at you as his warm breath fans over cunt, “Put it against my head,” He suggests rather than orders, and you’re hesitant for a moment before he’s giving you that nudge, his tongue dipping into your cunt without warning as he’s lapping up the center of your pussy, groaning as the barrel presses front and center to his hairline and your back arches, fingers still carefully off the trigger but tightly wrapped around the grip and you moan, so loudly you find yourself trying to muffle the sound with your hand.

“Soundproof,” Dave notes, “don’t hold back, baby.”

He doesn’t either, his fingertips digging into your thighs as he spreads you wide, broad shoulders giving you no relief as he licks, quick and practiced tongue flicks over your clit until you’re keening, the gun trembling in your grip as he presses his head further into the barrel, leaning down until he can slip his tongue inside of you, grunting at the way you cry out, walls pulsing around his tongue.

He pulls away suddenly, featherlight kisses over your pussy, gentle lips over your mound and it feels like it’s all in an effort to tease—you’ve never gone this far before with him but somehow he was already in tune with your body, and frankly, you’ve been waiting too long for this to allow him to drag out your release any longer than you’ll allow.

He grins as the barrel pressed more firmly at the center of his forehead, a silent demand. But, he’s not satisfied.

“Tell me. With your own words.”

“Make me come,” You order him, another firm press, “now.”

He buries his face into your cunt without another word, nose pressed against your clit as you felt yourself clench around the work of his tongue and fingers, the breach of one, as it pushed inside of you, had you squirming under his touch. Your grip on the handle slips but Dave is there, hand wrapping around your own to keep it firm as he hums, lapping you up greedily.

Your eyes are half-open, stuck staring at the plain ceiling as your head tips back, gasp caught in your throat as he doesn’t relent, his mouth moving over your clit to suck, alternating between that and precise flicks of his tongue before you’re curling over the edge with a loud moan, all while Dave’s hand slips to the barrel, keeping at steady while he admires you, the strain in your neck as you shout, legs shaking around his head as he finally gives you some relief, trapping him there as he cleans up the mess between your thighs.

He rises slowly then, gun trailing down until it drags against his chest, watching it indent in his skin until you’re pressing it against the bulge in his boxers, the dark material hugging his thighs and you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, and nod as his fingers trace over his waistband, still unmoving despite your eager eyes.

Take control.

“Take them off,” You tell him, the end of the gun tucking itself between the fabric, a playful smile pulling at your lips, “I wanna taste you, too.”

He hesitates, his palms pressing against your knees as he tilts his head slightly, “This is about you, sweetheart.”

“And what I want is your dick, in my mouth—is that too much to ask?” You pout slightly, dropping the gun to the comforter as you pull at his waistband but his hands stop you—maybe you weren’t as in control as you thought, it was all just metaphorical and Dave was into some weird shit.

“I’ve got…plans, for that,” Dave hints lightly, grinding his bulge into your palm as you press it against his clothed cock, “how about—you let me fuck you? I did make it to the third date, after all.”

He wanted you to be selfish—to soak up all the pleasure he was attempting to offer. He knew your past hookups couldn’t have been great; short three-minute fucks on the bed inside some dirty apartment of the man you had selected for that weekend, this was about you.

He wasn’t trying to control you, but rather guide you.

“Plans?” Your ears perk up as you lean forward, one hand tucked behind you for support as you squeeze at his cock over the fabric, his hand sliding over your neck to caress your cheek, his thumb rubbing over the curve of your lips before tilting your head up, “Who said I keep things going after the third date?”

He can see the inkling of playfulness in your expression as he surges forward suddenly, getting his hands underneath you and pulling your hips over his own, squeezing at your thighs as you instinctively ground yourself down against him, a wet patch forming in his boxers.

“Grab it,” He nods to the lone weapon.

It feels feeble now, just a prop. Sure, it made your heart race at the weight of it in your hand—that it was real, but you knew there was no real danger. Still, you play along.

You pick it up, examining it leisurely as you move your hips, “Have you killed anyone with this?”

Dave nods silently, his eyes following the line from your abdomen to your cunt, watching as your cunt dragged over the material and he doesn’t think he’s ever wanted something so badly, his thumbs pushing at his waistband, but the jerk of the gun being set effortlessly in your grip and placed at the center of his chest startles him for a brief moment.

“Say it.”

“Yes,” He answers, “I have—does that scare you?”

You nod absently, helping him as you lift your hips and let him push his underwear down his legs, kicking them off haphazardly as you drag your bare cunt against him and his mouth falls open slightly, his eyes still closely following your face, waiting for your response.

“No,” You shake your head, because as much as it should—it didn’t.

“It turns you on, doesn’t it?” Dave teases, feeling the subtle flex of your fingers into his chest with the hand that you had free, the barrel dragging up slowly until it forced his chin higher, resting just against the center of his throat.

“Maybe,” You reply, “does that scare you?”

“Baby, nothing scares me anymore.”

You flick off the safety in the heat of the moment, but there’s no reaction, not even a flinch.

“I wouldn’t have given you that if I didn’t trust you,” He ignores the way your face softens, a frown forming on your face, “Don’t—don’t worry. You won’t, I know you won’t.”

He guides your hips up as your eyes stay locked on the weapon at his throat, finger off the trigger but your heart is hammering in your chest, afraid that even one small movement would be a mistake. But, there was something in the way his jaw flexed, pressing his throat even further against the end of the gun as he slid into you, hand fisting his cock as your mouth fell open in a silent gasp, sinking further and further, until he was rooted inside of you.

“Don’t think,” He tells you, “just move, baby—take.”

Take it, claim this. Him.

It dawns on you in the heat of the moment, mind partially clouded that this was the craziest thing you’ve ever done, especially for someone you were fucking for the first time.

But weirdly, you felt comfortable—and you knew if you wanted to stop, Dave would allow that. Still, you didn’t.

You rock your hips slowly, free hand gripping his shoulder as his own fingers dig into your skin, aiding in the rise of your hips as his own lifted and smacked into yours with a quickly building intensity. No words were shared, just sounds breathed into each other’s skin.

He trails a hand up the center of you, curled around your face as his thumb presses against your bottom lip, pulling until it touches your teeth and you finally understand, taking the digit into your mouth and sucking.

Dave’s thrusts are rough, precise. It hits a spot so deep inside of you that your entire body aches at the feeling, rubbing against your g-spot with every stroke, feeling your eyes roll back in your head as he forces his thumb down on your tongue, a wordless communication as the the gun slips with you fleeting mind, but he’s there with his hand on the barrel to keep you steady.

“Come,” You command, “come inside of me.”

And his sanity be damned, he was. He didn’t care what the aftermath would bring—he’d do whatever you needed him to, silently praying that you weren’t that reckless.

You wouldn’t have asked otherwise.

Your nails dig into the muscle of his broad shoulder and his hips jerk at the feeling of you squeezing down on him, your thumb hesitantly pulling back at the hammer of the gun—he knows that sound and he feels the vibration of it against his throat as he comes, it hits him like a force.

He grunts through gritted teeth, rocking your hips with every weakened thrust as he pulses inside of you, still having half the mind to swat the gun away carelessly, his demeanor changing on a dime after you’ve had your fill of him. You shout softly as he rolls, trapping you underneath him with his hips and hands, shoving your palms under the pillow, and settling between your legs.

Your first instinct is to reach out, and touch him.

“Don’t,” He warns, “don’t move.”

You freeze, hands squeezing at the silk pillowcase, fabric bunching on your grip as he reaches for the gun.

“I want you to come again,” He demands, flipping the gun in his grip, the barrel pointed at you now.

“Dave—“

“Again,” His eyes flick down, “—get creative.”

You take a shallow breath, eyes pleading.

But, you knew you could. You wanted to, especially with him looking at you so hungrily, unexpectedly pushing his cum back into you with two fingers as you felt it seep out, a touch so delicate that it gives you whiplash against the dark dichotomy of his tone.

“Hold—hold it against me,” You tell him, “please?”

“You’re asking?”

“Do it,” You sound more steady and he moves with hesitation, pressing the tip of the barrel against your swollen clit, already too sensitive and the moment he presses the cold metal there your entire body shutters, mouth dropping open in shock, “fuck—I’m too sensitive.”

“Or I can fuck you with it, is that what you want?”

There’s a brief moment of intrigue that crosses your features and Dave can’t help but chuckle, his cheeks dimpling with the emotion.

“You’re trouble,” He admits, “so much fucking trouble.”

You rock your hips against the hard, but somehow dull edge, knowing that it would only take a few seconds but you were teetering, riding that line and needing more.

“Dave, please—your fingers,” You squirm, eyes squeezing shut as you grip the pillowcase so tight it might rip under the stress, “put them inside of me.”

Thankfully, he does. It’s the crook of his middle finger and the weight of the gun against your clit that pulls you over the edge a second time, vision whiting out as you came and forcing a broken sob from your chest, finding that the emotion floods you in an instant.

It wasn’t sadness, just a feeling that overwhelmed you.

Pleasure, peace, and with Dave staring at you with such adoration you weren’t sure how you’ve gone this long in your life without him.

You sigh shakily, “Fuck, that was intense.”

“Hey, sweetheart, look,” Dave cocks the gun back and your eyes draw to the weapon, showing that it was empty—it had never even been loaded, “it was all about control, alright?”

You laugh lightly, the absurdity of the situation sending you into a temporary delirium. Dave recocks the gun and flicks the safety back on, placing it on his nightstand before he’s tending to you, pulling at your arms and rolling over onto his back. You cuddle against his chest wordlessly, his soothing hands on your back a constant presence as he fumbles for the blanket, covering you both.

“I’ve never done that before,” You admit quietly.

“Did you enjoy it?”

He doesn’t know why he’s asking, he already knows the answer.

“I trust you, so much,” You admit, “I don’t even know—“

“I wouldn’t have attempted that on a first date,” Dave tells you, “just so you’re aware.”

“Oh, so the gun has a three date rule, too?”

He knows you’re being coy.

“It has a you rule, sweetheart. If you had said no, I wouldn’t have questioned it.” He tells you, feeling your heart swoon despite the absurdity of the situation, “Being behind the barrel of a gun, pointing it—it’s that surge of adrenaline. The control of the situation. I wanted you to feel that.”

You stay silent, lost in thought as you stare at him, watching as his gaze flicks down at you briefly with a knowing smirk, “Plus, I never would have handed you a loaded gun—not when you don’t know anything about gun safety. Was that your first time holding one?”

You nod meekly, wondering if he was going to feel regret.

“Would you teach me? If I asked?” You ask suddenly.

“How to use one?”

“I mean, is there a better person to ask?”

Dave chuckles dryly, a faint smile showing that quickly disappears.

“I’ll teach you, baby. As long as I get a fourth date.”

“You can have as many as you want. Five. Ten—“

“Careful,” He chided, “there’s still stuff you don’t know. About me.”

“I want to,” You assure him, “in your own time—as much as you’ll tell me. I can wait.”

Dave feels like he’s taking advantage of your kindness, your blind willingness to trust him. But, it has been so long since he’s had this—a confidant, someone who he could connect with without judgment.

He knows you’ll find a reason to run eventually, they always did.

“How do you feel about Paris?” He asks suddenly.

“It’s…pretty? I’ve never been but it seems alright.”

“Are you free next weekend?”

Your eyes widen at the implication.

“Dave—“

“Is that a yes?”

You nod shyly.

“Perfect,” He mouths into your hair, pressing a kiss against the scalp, “pack something fancy to wear.”

“How fancy?”

“Absurdly fancy,” He chuckles.

Because if there was one person who could get you to agree to anything, it was Dave.

#dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x y/n #dave york fanfiction #dave york fic #the equalizer 2 #dave york smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #my writing #literally who am i writing for DAVE

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alexlwrites · 11 months ago

Text

from my notes app:

Just picture it: Yoongi who just... never had a crush. Sure, he has felt attraction that sometimes evolved into something more through dates or other encounters. But a crush? Feet kicking, face blushing, giddy giggles? No, he couldn't say he ever experienced that.

Until you.

Until you showed up, a new manager at the company, and left him shaking in his disconcertingly large boots. You were bright, witty, charismatic and hard working and he stood there, arms hanging by his side awkwardly like a damn emoji, hovering around you unsure about what to do, what to say, how to act.

It was so frustrating! He never felt this way before and at 30 years old he felt as if he was going through a late puberty: voice cracking when he tried talking to you, waking up sweating from a dream way too realistic, poorly timed boners when he saw you walking around the office with skin tight pencil skirts.

His so called friend weren't making it any easier for him: Yoongi had officially become the butt of every joke as the members collectively regressed back to the 5th grade, murmuring everytime you showed up "here comes your wife, hyung, here comes Mrs. Suga".

Thankfully, you seemed unaware of their jabs, even as yoongi's pale cheeks blushed fiercely at the name.

He didn't know whether to be greatful or resentful for your obliviousness. On one side, you didn’t seem to hear the constant on going teasing from the other 6 raccoons he shared a band with, which saved yoongi from the swift death at the pearly hands of embarrassment, ripping his dramatic soul from his even more dramatic body.

On the other hand, you couldn’t seem to take a hint! He tried all of his best moves: standing there silently next to you, offering you a single tangerine, playing the guitar when you walked in whilst offering absolutely no explanation or context, even wearing his most scandalous, whorish outfit: a white tshirt that showed his collarbones instead of his usual 37 layers of clothing.

He didn't know how to make it any more obvious! Should he just take you against the wall of his studio (he totally should!, his lower brain unhelpfully provided as you once again strutted past him leaving him sniffing after your perfume like the fucking dog he was)?

He even tried asking his friends for advice, the lowest form of humiliation possible: Jungkook offered only baby oil and told him to lose a couple buttons. Hoseok made him couple matching beaded bracelets. And Namjoon, scorpio venus horndog, told him to actually go through with the wall taking idea.

Funnily enough, Jin was the one with the most plausible idea: give her a gift, bake her something! Homemade goods would show her how much you care.

So there he was, at thirty years old, holding onto a plate of cookies like a lifeline, cold sweating in front of your office, ready to flee the building and suck up those cookies like a hungry Kirby and mop in his own lameness like the international grammy nominee celebrity he was.

And then you opened the door and his body just reacted on his own, thrusting the plate towards you silently as his eyes screamed pure panic.

"For me?" You asked and he just nodded "Thank you so much, you are so sweet!"

Yoongi felt his lips curving and even without a mirror he could tell he had a dumbstruck smile on his face.

"What's the occasion?"

Ask her out, he urged himself. Tell her how you feel, how you can't stop thinking about her face, how her smile fuled his daydreams and her perfume haunts his days, bleeding into his psyche and sinking its claws into his heart, turning every song he wrote into a proclamation of adoration and lust, tell her how...

"Hm, for all y-your hard wo-work" he sputtered, mentally face palming himself at his own words.

Bugger.

Bugger it all to hell.

(Part 2>>>)

#bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts scenarios #bts fluff #yoongi #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi x y/n #yoongi x reader

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skeletor-n-a-meatsuit · 2 months ago

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Let's play a game called

"Flatmate or Boyfriend?"

I was listening to the Sherlock & Co podcast last week (The Sign of Four – Part Three) and I was dumbstruck by this particular part:

Context: John is talking to Mary (yes THAT Mary) about how his life has changed from when they were supposed to meet up last year and didn't.

Transcript of the above:

And later on in the episode she asks him out and they go on a date. But.. I don't know how she didn't interpret this as John talking about his boyfriend.

This sounds like a boyfriend. I've asked LGBT+ friends and straight friends. Men, women, nonbinary friends. They all say this is overtly gay.

How did Mary drum up the courage to ask John out after this? Because he sounds completely taken.

#sherlock holmes #john watson #jonk watson #sherlock & co #sherlock and co #sh&co #s&co #jonklock #what is even happening #if we don't get johnlock in this version the fans are gonna riot #johnlock

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levisbitterness · 1 month ago

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﹐ "two many , for dad" ݁ ۪ levi ackerman

dad!levi who's about to be a father of three. you both already had one little bundle of joy but agreed on only one more to complete your family. he's dumbstruck when he attends your ultrasound exam and realizes that you both are gonna have more than you bargained for.

dad!levi who knows the stress of it all will be overwhelming. you both didn't plan for or expect this in the slightest, but his love for his children won't and will never waver.

dad!levi who's the most hands on dad & husband of all time. he was already so attentive before but now it seems to have kicked into overdrive. from doing all the cooking to his favorite part; cleaning. from top to bottom.

dad!levi who saves you the trouble of swollen feet by giving you foot massages or either carrying you everywhere. what if you trip and fall one day? or what if your feet get so swollen they explode? he's not taking any chances.

dad!levi who won't admit it but gets nervous the closer your due date approaches.

dad!levi who doesn't cry when he's handed two babies, yet he can't stop himself from smiling. it feels a bit surreal.

dad!levi who deserves happiness in every sense of the word.

a/n: this was a bit lazy since i'm not feeling the best (physically) right now, nonetheless dad!levi has my heart.

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the-coffeeaddict-tim-drake · 8 months ago

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Tim Drake Fics On A03

These are my list of Tim Drake fics on A03. It has everything. Angst, fluff, funny sibling relationship, family fluff, The core four etc... There are few TimKon fics thrown here and there too. Have fun.

Tim Drake (Doesn't) Drink Coffee by BabblingBookends

Every year, Tim goes on a caffeine detox for a month and has to deal with the resulting withdrawal symptoms. He doesn't tell the rest of the Bats about this, because, uh, reasons!

Bang, bang by Ididloveyou_once

‘You shot me!’ Jason gasped, stunned, ‘Holy shit, you actually shot me.’

Tim’s eyes widened and he froze. They stared at each other for a second, dumbstruck and then-

‘Don’t tell Bruce.’

Or: The family enjoy a normal movie night. Except Jason has a gunshot wound and Tim’s the only one who knows and oh- that’s because Tim’s the one who shot him and they really, really need to find a way to leave before anyone finds out.

Play it Again by Jazz020

The manor feels too quiet without music. Tim and Damian bond over music.

Send to All by kerosceene

I, ___________________________, hereby acknowledge that this form represents my wishes should I contract phytoaphrodisiac-induced delirium (hereafter referred to as “PAID”) during engagements with or while apprehending Dr. Pamela Lillian Isley (“Poison Ivy”).

The bats have a sex pollen release form. Because of course they do.

This is on of the most funniest batfam fic I have ever read.

four brothers, one crush, and absolutely zero brain cells to be found by Ms_Trickster

Tim: i need to know what’s the best way to a boy’s heart

Damian: Easy. The best way to someone’s heart is through their ribcage. Everyone knows that.

Damian: Come on Timothy, I expected better from you.

Dick: I-

Dick: Try again

Tim is having boy troubles.

Tim goes to his brothers for help.

Tim...did not think that plan of action through.

(In which the batbros give Tim advice on relationships, told entirely through texts.)

Their sibiling relationship is too damn funny.

Home by sElkieNight60

“Why didn't you call home?” the Red Hood is scolding him, bizarrely making his head spin with how unreal everything suddenly seems. “Why didn't you call Dad? You've been missing for three days and he is losing his mind―he thinks you've been kidnapped again―everyone has been pulling double runs all over the city trying to find you! You fucking disappeared! Seriously, Baby Bird, give us one good reason why we shouldn't drag your ass back home right now and have Dad bench you until the end of all days!?”

The two vigilantes are staring at him equal parts furious and equal parts relieved, but there must be some kind of mistake, because:

“Who is Tim?”

Only A03 users can read this fic.

Cork Board Contingencies by PrinceJakeFireCake

If you don’t use a cork board to obsessively plan contingencies for every possible way a date with your best friend can go, how can you go on a date at all?

Excerpt: “Are you free next Saturday?” Tim asked, pretty sure that Kon’s jumble of words was agreement that he wanted to date Tim.

“Maybe!” Kon exclaimed.

“Cool,” Tim commented, taking another sip of his drugged grape soda (“Dammit, Tim,” he mentally told himself. “Do not give in! Buy new grape soda! Stop drinking the drugged grape soda! I’ve shotgunned another can of drugged grape soda, haven’t I? Dammit, that makes five!”) then saying, “That gives me just enough time to pass out for fifty-two hours and plan our first date.”

Bloodlines by chibi_nightowl for exiled-one (mistralle)

“Mr. Drake, I can’t think of a better way to say this, so I’ll just be blunt. This file is for your first adoption. By the Drakes.”

Tim blinked. “My what?”

“You were adopted as a newborn by Jack and Janet Drake.”

“Excuse me, but what the fuck are you talking about?”

No words. This fic is just mind blowing.

fill in the blanks by mindshelter

“You?” Tim blurts. Holy shit. “You’re Kon?”

A nod. “Are you in any pain?” he asks again.

Kon’s skin is sun-kissed, cheekbones dusted with a fine smattering of freckles; he is, without exaggeration, the prettiest person Tim has ever seen. “No, I’m—great,” he says, fidgeting. “Do you, uh, come here often?”

Kon raises a brow. “To the medbay?” he intones. “Definitely more often than I’d prefer.”

Road Rage Robin by heartslogos

"I'd be doing humanity a favor." Tim grinds out, "And I would get away with it. I could totally get away with it. I've done worse."

Only A03 users can read this fic

Liberal Usage of the Bro-Code by heartslogos for protagonistically (the_protagonist)

“You’re never going to guess who’s blood is on my shirt – similarly, this is not my shirt but these are my pants.”

Only A03 users can read this fic.

Here's a Reminder (That You Haven't Fallen Through the Cracks) by popsunner

If it’s a salesperson, he’ll shove them a hundred dollar tip and tell them to go away, if it’s some religious do gooder, he’ll direct them to Metropolis. If it’s a Rogue, he’ll tell them he’s busy and to please get in the fucking line. If it’s one of his siblings--

“Hey, Tim!” Dick says brightly, forearm braced against the doorframe.

Dammit.

i totally don't have amnesia by impravidus for odd_izzy

Based on this john mulaney bit: “I also think it's weird in movies when someone has amnesia and they wake up in the hospital. A lot of times they'll be surrounded by friends and family, but when they open their eyes they go "Who are you?" Because that's not how you act when you don't recognize somebody. That's very rude. It would be chaos out there if every time you saw someone you didn't recognize, you went, "Who are you?" I always try to be really polite in life, so like if I had amnesia, you'd never know it. I'd wake up and they'd be like "Hi John, we're so happy you're awake." And I'd just be like, "Oh, hey, man, how's it going?", "Oh, hey, dude, nice to see you again." because that's how you act when you can tell that someone recognizes you and you have no fucking clue who they are.”

Detective Timothy Drake and the Mysterious Case of the Unclaimed Dildo by JpegDotJpeg

Tim had a lot of experience with problem solving. Every goddamn day he was solving problems. There was no shortage of problems in Tim’s life. He’d learned how to deal with overbearing parents, underbearing parents, malfunctioning equipment, in-team conflict, lawsuits, emotional breakdowns, financial difficulty, broken ribs, ill-timed boners, and a whole host of other bizarre, anxiety-inducing, or life-threatening issues that plagued his existence.

None of them had prepared him for finding a dildo in the dishwasher.

I had so much fun reading this.

Little Overlooked Dreams by Lunette3002 for Marzue

Tim weighed his options. He was alone at night in some alleyway in Gotham. He had nothing except the clothes left on the ground by someone and the cloak wrapped around his skinny shoulders. His camera was nowhere in sight. His backpack was gone too.

He brought the device to his ear. “Hello?”

Whatever talking had been on the other end of the line immediately cut off at his hesitant greeting.

“Who is this?”

Family Photos by KelpieCodyne

“I thought you quit your photo stalking?”

“In my defence, I never said I was quitting, and you never asked if I would,” Tim immediately counters. “So really, this is kind of on you.”

Just because Tim became a bat, doesn’t mean he stopped taking photos of bats. Several times Tim took photos of the batfamily, and one time they took photos of him.

One of my all time favorite fic. And only A03 users can read this fic too.

picture perfect memories by Fandom_Trash224

“I… require assistance with something. I believe you are best-suited for it.”

Tim raises an eyebrow, but motions for the younger boy to enter his room. As Damian does, he slowly closes the door behind him, and Tim notices a small piece of what Tim assumes to be paper in Damian’s hand. Then, he realizes it’s not just a piece of paper: it’s a photo.

Damian approaches Tim, holding out the photo at arm’s length once he’s close enough to do so, saying, “I would like you to explain this photo to me.”

Tim glances down at it, and to both his surprise and mild horror, he recognizes the photo.

Only A03 users can read this fic.

Biphasic Reaction by renecdote

People may have allergic reactions all the time and be fine, but they can also die from them. He has a flash of sudden, morbid curiosity about what the exact statistics for fatal allergic reactions are.

Only A03 users can read this fic.

miles and miles (in their shoes) by JUBE514

Where is Damian? Why can’t he see anything clearly? Where is the little brat? Damian had been by him in the cave when everything had exploded, they had been arguing like always when the two of them had gotten the punishment to go clean the trophy room, stop yelling at each other, stop being at each other's throat for two minutes and go clean the goddamn trophy room-

They had been cleaning, got into another knock out drag out argument, and it had come so close to blows and they had been screaming more than cleaning and-

The stupid fucking shoe, in the magical section- exploded out-

Tim and Damian switch bodies, the two of them realize exactly why the other does the things they do.

The Waynes, Damsels in Distress by hitthedeck

Roses are red, violets are blue, Bruce Wayne and his kids get kidnapped every other week. Some things are just universal, undeniable facts of life.

Or, in which Bruce Wayne is still Batman and his kids are still Robins, but they keep letting themselves get kidnapped because they think it's funny.

Have You Seen My Kids!? by Cute_Bear

Five Times Bruce's kids interrupted him as Bruce Wayne and One Time they interrupted him as Batman with the Justice League.

This is not Tim - centric, but it has really nice batfam fluff.

ten cents richer by Ms_Trickster

You either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain.

That’s how the saying goes. Take enough punches from the universe and eventually it becomes harder and harder to pop back up, to see the worth in fighting back, to stop yourself from turning around and delivering some punches of your own.

Tim never wanted to become the villain—

“Appendicitis,” Tim breathed in disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

—but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted to burn the world to ashes when shit like this kept happening to him.

A Saturday Evening by malcyon

Jonathan shrugs, catches the expression still on Tim’s face. “We did throw out the cyanide.”

“Only because it expired.”

“Marty.”

“Well, it did.”

*****

Kon invites Tim over for dinner. Tim's not sure if he should have accepted that invitation.

unfurl by shipyrds

"Hey, Dick," Tim says. He's in costume, and fiddling with his gloves, but he doesn't remove his mask: nervous, and trying to hide it. "You've had sex with aliens, right?"

"I'm not going to like where this is going, am I?" Dick says, resigned.

"How did you deal with the whole. Junk situation," Tim says, in his best professional Mission Report voice. Its success is kind of undermined with how red his face is below the domino. — Tim asks some questions. Bruce and Clark come to some realizations.

The Conner Kent Conspiracy Board by Hayleythewriter

Tim figures out Kon’s feelings before Kon does.

His Baby by Musafir

Bruce once made Tim a promise that he would never break, just have to reaffirm later in life.

“Hi Tim. I’m Bruce and I am always going to be here for you.”

Banshee In A Well by liverobinreaction (bugbee)

Tim is five years old when he drowns in his parents' pool. He dies quietly, waiting for parents who love him, but will never be there, to realise that something is wrong. They never show up, and he sinks into oblivion.

When he wakes up and claws his way out of the water, the sun has set, and the lights of his house are on. He is cold and wet and his lungs burn.

But most of all, Tim is alone.

(If you die and no-one is there to see it, were you ever alive in the first place?)

The Return by lurkinglurkerwholurks

What the comics neglected to cover after Bruce returns from being lost in time.

Only a03 users can read this fic.

charity by Valkirin for Ms_Trickster

The biggest downside of being adopted by Bruce Wayne is putting up with rich people events, including one where Jason will be in a room with a bunch of rich kids for a couple very long hours while Bruce goes to the adults' meeting. Jason is ready for a very bad time but the Drake kid listens to him from the start and keeps backing up Jason's ideas even though they've never met.

Jason warms up to Tim Drake long before Mad Hatter tries to take over the meeting and Tim backs him up again.

city of stars by lovelyre

College friends-to-lovers AU with Tim Drake.

This is Tim drake x Reader fic. Trust me its really good.

Tricks of the Trade by Jazz020

Jason and Damian learn about Tim's fool proof method of getting what he wants from Superman

Security Updates by Jazz020

Hal, Clark, and Barry find an unexpected guest playing with the watchtowers security.

Vacation at the Watchtower by Jazz020

A continuation of Security Updates

It may have been a mistake to let Tim stay at the Watchtower while he heals from his injury but the kid really needed to get away from his brothers.

“Wait, what if I go to the Watchtower with you.” “I don't think-” “It’ll be great. I'll even help out if you need me to. I'll be the best unpaid intern the Justice League has ever had.”

Birthdays by Jazz020

Bruce was always aware that Jack and Janet Drake were bad parents, but every once in a while they give him an unfortunate reminder.

Loss by Jazz020

Out of all of Tim’s self-destructive tendencies, it was his willingness to die for his loved ones that frightened Alfred most.

Sick by Jazz020

Tim’s never quite figured out the proper behavior for someone who’s sick. Instead of resting, he often makes his way to the Watchtower.

We Can Work It Out by blackash26, Tigrislupa

Damian endeavors to make up for his treatment of Drake and apologize properly; however, Drake refuses to forgive him no matter what he does. Tim does his best to deny, avoid, and ultimately deal with the fact that the demon brat has a crush on him of all people. (Pulling pigtails never felt like quite such an understatement.) Meanwhile, the rest of the family takes sides.

In all of this, there's only one thing everyone agrees on.

Don’t tell Dick.

Only A03 users can read this fic.

you'll never find a thing like today by remrose

"I'm just saying, I don't think I've ever been to one of these things that hasn't ended in explosions," Bart tells them, eyes on the crowds as he tugs at the ends of his cuffs.

To the Boy Who Called Yesterday by Shirokokuro

Bruce wonders when six-year-old Tim changed, when he shed that sad look he’s wearing now.

Or, perhaps, when he got so good at hiding it.

Cough syrup by Stardustwrites17

It’s the coldest night in the year. So of course Tim falls into the Gotham-fucking-harbor.

Featuring a worried dad, Tim's missing spleen, and of course, Tim battling with himself between being independent and letting himself be loved.

Chili dogs seasoned with tears by Robin_The_Robiner

Ever so slowly, Tim looked down at his plate. On it was a steaming chili dog, topped with fried onions and fresh parsley.

“Oh.” he whispered.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Taking the place of a beloved dead boy was difficult, but Tim managed to do a decent job. He's smart, confident, and put together, so he wasn't effected by their devastating grief at all.

Tim is also a dirty little liar when it comes to his mental health.

A Pile Of Pillows By The Couch by reinersbigtits

Tim has always hated getting sick. He hates the haze and the pain. But, when he finds out his family is sick he jumps in to help without a second thought. However, without a spleen, he's incredibly susceptible to the illness and quickly realizes just how much he's missed out on.

Or: Tim Drakes repressed trauma followed by worried family feels and lots of comfort.

stepping on landmines by Ms_Trickster

There is a scar curved around Drake's neck that Damian does not understand.

So he asks Todd.

the butler's neighbor by deargalileo

It starts with a baseball, thrown onto the wayne's property. it's alfred's job to deal with such happenings, of course. but over tea and galas, it turns into so much more.

after all, why should bruce be the only one allowed to adopt any child that he finds?

Stranger than Fiction by foxy_mulder

"There are details in this document that absolutely no one should know unless they have inside information on us. There’s hints that they know our patrol schedules and regularly keep tabs on us. I don't know who's behind this, or what they want with Batman, but tracking the writer needs to be a priority."

"And this document is… a fanfiction?"

_________

(Tim Drake writes Batman fanfiction. He doesn't expect Batman to actually find it.)

There are many many more fics which i will post later. Have fun reading

#tim drake #batfam #red robin #dc robin #jason todd #good parent bruce wayne #dick grayson is nightwing #damian wayne is a little shit #tim drake is a menace #jason todd is red hood #jason todd is a little shit #fluff #light angst #bart allen #young justice #conner kent #tim drake loves coffee #tim drake centric fic #timkon

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izvmimi · 1 year ago

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cw: mentions of impact play.

“deku.”

izuku’s still slipping his t-shirt on over his shoulders when katsuki starts to speak, turning in his direction. katsuki has a smug smile on his face, his gaze fixated on the long, red superficial scratches on his friend’s back, a few paralleling the scars he’s sustained over his career.

“are you dating a woman or a lioness?” he taunts. izuku looks confused for a moment but realization sets in quickly and then he smiles politely, smoothing down the wrinkles in his shirt before he responds.

“well, from how pristine and untouched you look always, i have to wonder if you’re dating a person or a baby kitten?”

katsuki looks taken aback and izuku grins even wider as he grabs his backpack and walks past him. he stops when they’re shoulder to shoulder.

“i hope you’re not lacking, you know, passion,” he adds, which leaves katsuki dumbstruck. “see you tomorrow, kacchan!”

the door closing after izuku’s cheerful goodbye is deafening.

later that evening, katsuki tosses and turns in bed for nearly an hour until he finally shifts suddenly and groans, finding his way on top of you and looking at you directly in the eyes, a frown on his face.

“katsu, are you okay?” you ask, slightly concerned.

“no. slap me,” he replies.

“what?”

katsuki leans in and digs into the crook of your neck, kissing you softly.

“tear my back up,” he pleads. his arms wrap around your midsection as you arch.

“why so suddenly?” you ask, wrapping your thighs around him.

“i won’t be outdone.”

you pause, but he kisses your collarbone and you shake your head.

“are you being a big baby again?”

he twists his mouth to the side, then rests his head on your chest.

“maybe, but i’m your baby.”

#bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #daydreams: bnha #mimi’s notes

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celestialprincesse · 10 months ago

Note

How do you think the taskforce would react to Y/N being a triplet? 🤔

Like she's sitting at a cafe somewhere, she bumps into the others and then BAM 2 other identical versions of her appear 👯‍♀️

OHHH they would be SO confused I love it.

When you offered to introduce your sisters to the Taskforce, getting an enthusiastic 'yes' was the last thing you'd expected. Apart from MacTavish. He wants to date your sister so that he and Simon will eventually become brothers and morally obligated to hang out on holidays.

What they don't expect, is you walking into the pub flanked by two carbon copies of, well, you. "Steamin' fuckin' Jesus." Johnny huffs, whilst Simon sits there kind of smug in the knowledge that he's the only one that knows that not only are you one of three, but also that you and your sisters are more identical than the twins from the shining on speed. The only visible difference between you, Florence and Iris is the dimple on Florence's left cheek and the mole above Iris' eyebrow. Other than that, you're the same. Although you were all born on the same day, Florence was the first to come out, followed by Iris, and then finally you. Three, identical triplets.

Johnny looks like he's living his wet dream, Gaz looks at Iris like she's just hung the stars in the sky, and Simon looks at you with a love that is only yours. "Guys, these are my sisters." You introduce warmly, encouraging the two to introduce themselves, all whilst you shoo the boys out of the way to make space for the three of you. "There's three of ye." Johnny observes, still a little dumbstruck. "Three of ye and yous all look the same." "Yes, MacTavish, you've never heard of triplets before?" "Jus did no expect for ye to look quite so similar. Ye knew about this Ghost?"

Simon just gives a little nod, pulling you into his side with a soft kiss to your temple whilst Florence and Iris get chatting to the others, just as charismatic as you are.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

wrote this whilst attempting to pack so it's a little short but it's such a good idea so I'm tempted to add to it when I get the chance😚

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hbyrde36 · 6 months ago

Text

Inspired by this TikTok

I wrote this instead of everything else I should be working on, enjoy! 😂

Rating: G | WC: 2494 | AO3

Eddie took a deep breath, preparing himself mentally for the night ahead as he walked up the street towards the place he was supposed to meet his blind date.

He couldn’t believe he’d agreed to this, but it wasn’t like he was having any luck finding love on his own.

After several failed long-term relationships with fuckboys that weren’t worth his time and heartache, who ran the second things got real, he joined the apps—quickly realizing that most of the guys he found on there were only looking for sex. Which was fun and all, but Eddie wanted more.

He was looking for romance, a spark, someone he could see spending his life with, who was also looking for a partner. Someone who wasn’t allergic to commitment.

So, he’d quit the apps.

And when Chrissy told him she had a guy she wanted him to meet he figured, fuck it, he’d tried everything else.

Steve Harrington.

He was a friend of Robin’s, Chrissy’s new girlfriend who Eddie hadn’t had the chance to meet yet, but apparently the three of them had gotten together last weekend, and now Chrissy was convinced the man and Eddie were perfect for each other.

“On the surface it’s giving opposites attract,” she’d said, “but under the carefully styled hair and button down shirts, Steve is not at all what you’d expect. He’s kind, funny, a little weird, and way different than the guys you usually go for—but in the best way. Just give it a chance. I promise at the very least you’ll have a good time and maybe make a friend.”

Eddie wasn’t so sure that’d be the case, but he was here, willing to give it a go, and he had a trick up his sleeve. A little idea he’d stolen from a TikTok video that had, so far, a 100% success rate for exposing duds.

He reached his destination and pushed open the door, entering the warm dimly lit restaurant, and before he’d even reached the hostess stand noticed a man rising from his seat, smiling and waving—waving at him.

And oh, oh Chrissy had better count her days because Eddie was going to fucking kill her. Steve, assuming this was the guy, was quite literally the hottest man he’d ever seen in real life.

She couldn't warn a guy?

Eddie raised his hand, absently returning the wave as he continued to stare a little dumbstruck at his date.

Get it together, Munson.

Mercifully, Eddie was able to snap out of it enough to put one foot in front of the other again and make his way over to their booth.

There was an awkward moment where Steve couldn’t seem to make up his mind between shaking Eddie’s hand, or hugging him in greeting.

Honestly Eddie wasn’t sure of the protocol either since it was his first blind date. He supposed this was to be expected. Not only were they about to embark upon the supremely awkward adventure that was every first date ever, but they were also meeting for the very first time having never seen or spoken to each other before.

In the end it became one of those half-and-half bro hugs with the little pat on the back, before they took their seats opposite one another.

Steve was the first to break the silence. “It’s good to meet you, Chrissy told me a lot about you.”

“Wish I could say the same.” Eddie muttered under his breath.

“Oh, um.”

“Sorry, it’s—I didn’t mean,” Eddie shook his head at himself. “Ignore me.”

“No, I'm sorry.” Steve raked a hand over his face. “It’s weird right? This is weird. I tried to tell Robin—I mean, who even goes on blind dates anymore!”

It surprised a laugh out of Eddie that he couldn’t have held back if he tried. He quickly slapped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late.

Great job, Munson, laugh at the guy—great way to make a first impression.

But then Steve was cracking a little lopsided smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling ever-so-slightly with it. He didn’t seem offended, or mad.

Fuck.

He wasn’t just dangerously hot, he was cute too.

Eddie tugged lightly on his shirt collar, and cleared his throat. “It’s a little weird, sure, but that doesn’t mean it’s bad.”

Their server chose that moment to arrive and introduce herself, taking their drink order—some local craft beer Eddie had never heard of for Steve, a Jack and coke for himself—and Eddie used the temporary distraction to try and regain some composure. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t already hoping this would go somewhere, that Steve would be different from all the others.

But when the server had gone and it was just the two of them again, Steve opened his mouth and Eddie instantly flashed back to every bad first date he’d been on.

“So, what’s your favorite—”

Steve hadn’t even finished asking his first question before Eddie was interrupting, raising a hand to tick off each response on his fingers as he went.

“Black, metal, D&D, the 1999 cinematic masterpiece The Mummy starring our lord and savior Brendan Fraser, The Silmarillion, cheeseburgers, Halloween, aaaaand—a dog.”

Steve blinked at him. “...What?”

“My favorite color, genre of music, hobby, movie, book, food, holiday, and of course the classic—if I could be any animal, what animal would I be and why?”

Eddie let his hand fall to the table with a soft thud. “Dog—hands down. And I know I look more like someone who’d say black cat or something like that, but I enjoy attention and physical affection far too much to be an aloof feline. Shaggy lovable mutt seems way more my speed.”

By the end of his speech, Steve was grinning from ear to ear, nodding in understanding.

Eddie gave half a shrug, blushing a bit under the full force of Steve’s dazzling smile. “Thought I'd save us some time and speed-run the same old, same old.”

A moment later their drinks arrived and they both sat up a little straighter reflexively as the server set each glass down on cocktail napkins in front of them before scurrying off.

They’d been leaning in towards each other without even realizing, it seemed. It was Steve’s turn to blush now, Eddie noted with delight as he raised his glass to his lips, grateful to have something to do with his hands.

“I take it you’ve been on a lot of first dates?” Steve asked, taking a long sip from his own drink.

“A few.” Eddie said, tilting his cup to swirl the ice around. “You?”

Steve made a waffling motion with his head. “A few.”

Eddie took another sizable swig from his glass, focusing for a moment on the burn of the whiskey and the tingle of soda bubbles in his throat as he swallowed, and carefully set his cup down on the table between them. It was almost empty already—should have asked for a double.

“Okay, my turn, “ he said.

Steve raised an eyebrow. “You wanna know my favorite color?”

“No, there’ll be plenty of time to find that out later.”

“Presumptuous of you.”

Eddie hummed noncommittally. “More… hopeful.”

Steve let out a breathy laugh. “Alright, what do you want to know?”

Here goes nothing—

“What would you do if we moved in together and I started seeing ghosts and told you that our house was haunted?”

Steve tilted his head to the side, giving Eddie that soft crooked smile again, and damn if it wasn’t becoming one of Eddie’s favorite things. Can you be obsessed with something you’ve only seen twice?

Steve was quiet for a long moment, nearly draining his beer as he thought it over, but eventually set his own drink down beside Eddie’s and looked him dead in the eye. “Is it a nice ghost or a scary ghost? Are we talking banging on walls and rearranging furniture at 3am? Or a cold yet comforting presence in the corner.”

Eddie put on a show of thinking about it, rubbing his chin and staring off into space as he tried desperately to contain his excitement. He’d never had the question go over this well before.

Then their server was back, asking if they wanted another round—yes, of course—and if they were ready to order. They hadn’t even cracked open their menus yet, too distracted with talking.

“Do you know what you want?” Steve asked him.

Eddie swallowed hard.

You.

“I-I’m not picky. Order for me? Chrissy said you come here a lot so I’m sure you know what’s good.”

Without hesitation Steve ordered them a burger each, and a plate of some sort of fancy fries to share, apparently they had the best fries.

It hadn’t been another test, honest. Eddie really didn’t care what he ate, this was already turning out to be his best date in far too long—and It could have been a coincidence, maybe Steve ordered burgers there all the time, but Eddie chose to believe it meant Steve had been listening. Test or not, he’d passed with flying colors.

When they were alone again Eddie smoothed his hands along the table, drawing invisible patterns with his fingers and finally answered Steve’s question.

“Let’s go with scary ghost, but remember you have no proof, you haven't seen it with your own eyes, just my word.”

Steve waved him off as if that was inconsequential, upending his glass to get the last dregs of the beer, and wiping his lips on the back of his hand.

“Okay, well then it depends on how hands on you want to be. We could consult WitchTok, try and cleanse the house ourselves, ask the spirit to leave, that kinda thing. Or maybe find a priest who’d be willing to help us out? That might be a little more difficult since the church isn’t usually our biggest fans, but I could deal with a little homophobia to make sure you were happy and comfortable in our home.”

Eddie’s stomach flipped, heart beginning to race. He wasn’t surprised exactly, Steve had been blowing past his expectations at every turn already, but there was no more perfect answer to his admittedly insane first date question.

So naturally, he had to push.

“What if I wanted to move?”

Steve shrugged. “Then we’d move.”

Eddie stared at him incredulously. Steve said it like it was nothing, like uprooting his entire life for some crazy shit was akin to changing his socks. This was all hypothetical, Eddie knew that, and Steve could just be telling him what he wanted to hear, but Eddie had a feeling he was telling the absolute truth

“But we’d be out, at minimum, a month’s rent and security deposit, and what if the landlord won’t let us out of the lease?!” Eddie threw his hands up, suddenly taking his own game much too seriously. “Or godforbid we’d bought the place, then we’d have to sell it and all our money would be tied up in it, and—”

Steve reached out and took Eddie’s hands with his own, gently stroking his thumbs along the back of them. “Baby—baby it’s okay. No amount of money would be worth you feeling unsafe.”

And Eddie was simply going to pass away, because what the fuck—how was this man so perfect?

“Why—how are you single?”

Steve flashed a sad, self deprecating smile. “I’ve been told I can be a little… intense.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Well, historically speaking…”

Eddie leaned over the table, pressing a kiss to the back of Steve’s hand. “I happen to like intense.”

Steve sucked in a breath, cheeks flushing again with the most glorious shade of pink. “Good to know.”

They stayed hand in hand talking for a long time, taking turns asking each other the most random questions they could think of.

“Favorite episode of The Twilight Zone?” Eddie asked.

“Oh, easy. I don’t know the name of it but it’s the one where the kid is lost and her parents can hear her in the house panicking, but they can’t see her?”

Eddie nodded his approval. “Little Girl Lost, good choice.” God he was falling more in love by the second.

“Favorite Abba song.” Steve countered.

Eddie grinned. “How do you know I even have one? Mean scary metalhead like me.”

Steve rolled his eyes, and shot him a look that clearly stated he found Eddie neither mean or scary. “Everybody likes Abba.”

“Well played.” Eddie bit at his bottom lip. He felt like a teenager with his first crush all over again. “Fine—while Dancing Queen holds a special place in my heart, and maybe this makes me a gay cliche, but Gimme, Gimme, Gimme fucking slaps.”

It went on and on like that until eventually their food arrived, forcing them to separate. They still spoke as they finished their meal, and settled their tab, but Eddie missed the warmth of Steve’s hand in his already.

He suddenly understood why some couples chose to sit together on the same side of a booth. He’d happily look like a dork right now to have the opportunity to be pressed up against Steve’s side, to be able to slide a hand along his thigh and maybe—

“Eddie?”

Steve’s slightly raised voice found him in his daydream, snapping him out of it abruptly.

“Wha..?”

“Did I lose you there for a second?” Steve asked, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

Eddie rubbed at the back of his neck nervously. “Yeah, sorry, um—you were saying?”

“I said, I'm having a really good time, and I know we already paid the bill but I really don’t want this night to end, so—” Steve slid out of his seat and moved to stand in front of him, holding a hand out—which Eddie took immediately, of course, and let Steve pull him to his feet.

“I was wondering if you’d want to take this back to my apartment? Y’know, so we can plan a second date?” He finished with a smirk.

Jesus Christ.

Warmth shot through Eddie’s body at the implications but he found his heart skipping a beat too, because as much as Steve was teasing, Eddie knew somehow that he meant it about the second date.

He couldn’t believe his luck, Steve was everything Chrissy had made him out to be, and so much more. He was going to send her the biggest bouquet of flowers tomorrow, and maybe an edible arrangement. Were those still a thing?

Eddie leaned in, letting his lips brush along the shell of Steve’s ear as he spoke. “It’s not haunted, is it?”

Steve shivered, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s shoulders and pulling their bodies flush. “No, but if you’re interested I can think of a few other ways to make you scream.”

Thanks as always to the lovely @penny00dreadful for everything😘😘😘

Permanent taglist(open): @penny00dreadful @pearynice @hitlikehammers @bookworm0690 @wonderland-girl143-blog

@goodolefashionedloverboi @themagicalari

#steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #blind date #modern au #i wrote this in just over 24 hours #do i have wips i should have been working on?#asolutely i do #but this was SO much fun #I gotta write fluff more often #💜💜💜

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c4ttheart · 1 year ago

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closer , sae itoshi

half proofread bc it’s 2am 🙁 (no this is not based on that one chainsmoker song)

you always talk about your day, blabbering on and about. he has heard it all, the meals you ate, how you made them, the shape of the moon through your tiny bathroom window because it’s the only one you can see the moon from in your appartement, your outfit and how different people reacted to it and how you always manage to stub your toe on that one desk corner at work.

sometimes sae wonders why you love him- you could talk for hours on end and he’d only listen. often, his mind wanders down treacherous routes, all leading to thoughts of you. how come you aren’t bored yet ?

he knows you like physical touch. he never really minded it, not when it came from you, and he feels bad because the last time you saw him in the flesh was way too long ago for his liking (almost a month). you stay up until ungodly hours just for him, just to hear his muffled ‘mhms’ through the phone. sae never even calls first; you do everything: the talking, the calling, maybe even the loving.

do you doubt if sae loves you ? because he does, and he wishes he could say it, but the words get stuck in his throat whenever he tries to make them come to life. it’s not like he can really place a word when you’re talking, the blabbermouth that you are, but he doesn’t mind. he knows you do that so he doesn’t have to answer. you know what time his practice finishes at and you wake up everyday just to call him. you knew what you were doing when you accepted his confession, and it makes sae feel bad.

he doesn’t know what to do, or how to act. sure, he’s dated people before (he will argue with his life that the girlfriend he had in primary school counts), but no one was as good to him as you. you’re so kind, and so sweet, and when you hang up after a while he stares at his ceiling and wonders why you stay with him.

having a one sided relationship sucks. everybody knows that, you know that, and when your friends tell you to drop him you just laugh because it’s not a one sided relationship, it never will be.

sure, sae never calls first, or texts first, or a lot of other things- heck, sometimes he doesn’t even answer verbally when you talk through the phone. it’s fine, you just hope his ear doesn’t fall off each time. maybe sae doesn’t tell you that he loves you, or does the boyfriend shit you see on tiktok, but you know he cares.

if he didn’t, he wouldn’t pick up the phone on the first ring, wouldn’t listen to the entirety of your five minutes voice messages in 1x speed, wouldn’t wait for you to hang up and just do it himself. sae tells you he loves you when you receive a package with those boots you tried on once at a store (and sent sae a very cheesy picture with them) but didn’t buy them because even though they were cute the price wasn’t worth it. he tells you he loves you when you tell him you’re hungry on your way home and as soon as you arrive a clueless uber eats guy is standing in front of your door. he tells you he loves you when he’s half asleep and he accidentally reveals that he listens and remembers your gossip by butting in the conversation with a question involving the tea from a month ago.

and you know you love him when he does all of the above and never once talked to you about love. you know you love him when you find a packed pretty diamond ring from your favourite jewellery brand somewhere inside his closet when you come over. you definitely know you love him when he holds you close like a starved man, burying his head in the crook of your shoulder- he missed you so much. (the feeling is mutual, but his ego is already higher than the soaring rockets they sent to the moon some time in the 1900’s)

« you’re heavy! » you say, jokingly, because he actually isn’t but he doesn’t have to know. it isn’t common for him to be this clingy, and you think that if he doesn’t stop you’ll feel like you’re in highschool again: young, dumbstruck, and utterly in love.

he just hums in response. you’re used to it, and you would be upset if he wasn’t pulling you closer to his chest in a sae way that screams ‘i love you.’

you just smile, until the quirks of your mouth reach your eyes and until you’re sure he can feel it too, the intensity of your happiness. and for once, you stay silent, letting him do the talking with the way he grabs your waist.

maybe sae itoshi never got the best boyfriend award (and he probably never will), but it’s fine, because you are a version of yourself that molds perfectly with the puzzle piece that is itoshi sae. and he likes that, he loves the talkative and dramatic person that you are. you just wished he knew how much you loved his hot headed and attentive enigma too.

wrote this instead of my economics project that i had 3 months to do 👍 hope u enjoyed

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absurdthirst · 7 months ago

Text

Greased Lightning {Frankie Morales x F!Reader x Santiago Garcia}

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 13.1k

Warnings: Financial difficulties, technical prostitution, sex for services, propositioning, threesomes, fingering, oral sex (male and female receiving), dirty talk, degradation, anal fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, double penetration, cum play, explicit photos

Comments: Broken down and in need of a mechanic, you call Triple Frontier Repair. Finding out that the repairs are more expensive than you can afford, the men have an idea on how you can compensate them.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Frankie Morales MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“Shit.” You hiss when you hear the engine of your piece of shit car start knocking and the dashboard lights up like a Christmas tree. “No, no, don’t do this, please don’t do this.” You whine when the acceleration of the car suddenly depletes and you are obviously going to be moving off the road to the shoulder. Bucking slightly as you try to coax it a little farther so you can safely get off and you feel like crying. You’re in a bind financially and you can’t afford pricey car repairs. If you don’t have a car, you can’t go to work and if you can’t go to work, you won’t have a job. You slap the steering wheel and sigh, knowing that you will need to get the car towed. After cursing your bad luck, you open your phone and google the closest mechanics shop that has a towing service. Hopefully they will be able to fix it for cheap.

“Frontier Repair Shop.” Santi answers the phone, about to leave early but your voice sounds distressed.

“I need a tow and my car - it just stopped and I don’t know what happened.” You try not to cry down the phone and Santi sighs, knowing his mama would kick his ass if she knew he’d left a woman on the side of the road. He asks you for the mile marker you’re near and knows where you are.

“Fish, I’ll be back in a bit.” He promises to his partner, heading out to the tow truck to go and get your vehicle.

When the truck arrives, you almost cry with relief but compose yourself, knowing that this won’t be an easy or cheap fix. When the mechanic gets out of the truck, your mouth falls slightly. “You need a tow?” He asks and you nod, dumbstruck by the handsome man and you almost forget about the issue at hand.

His brows furrow when he slips behind the wheel and sees the array of lights when he turns the key. “It’s good that you turned it off.” He compliments and jams the brake to shift the car into neutral. He’s already put the chains on the frame and just needs to hoist it up onto the flatbed.

“I just….was driving along and it went haywire.” You worry, biting your lip. “It’s gonna be expensive, isn’t it?” You can’t afford this, you are already destined to spend the rest of your rare day off in a mechanic’s shop.

“Won’t know until we get it back to the shop.” Santi tells you, noting how pretty you are, even though you’re obviously distressed. “Don’t worry though, me and Fish are the best mechanics around. We’ll get you back on the road.” He promises before shutting the door. “You need a ride to the shop with me, or do you have someone coming?’

“I need a ride. I don’t have anyone coming to pick me up and I need to get this fixed today. I have to work tomorrow and I don’t have any other way to get there.” You tell him and he nods, opening the passenger door for you to get in. It’s a little messy, coffee cups and wrappers litter the floor but you don’t care, too distracted by your bad luck.

“You from around here?” Santi asks as he starts the truck and makes his way back to the shop.

“No. Moved here years ago for college and didn’t go home.” You sigh.

Santi nods and concentrates on the road. “I get that.” He tells you. “Fish and I opened this shop when we got out of the Army. Just far enough away from the base we didn’t have to deal with that bullshit, but close enough we could go raise hell if we wanted.” He throws you a grin, thinking about the nights they would go bar hopping and get into some good, old fashioned trouble. Plus it was always fun to pick up the women there. “College, huh? What did you major in? I’ve been thinking about taking a few classes, using my G.I. bill.”

“It’s nothing exciting. I work in HR. Majored in Psych but didn’t get to put that degree to the test. But my student loans have been killing me since my rent was increased and I- sorry, you don’t wanna hear about my drama. How long were you in the army?” You ask, curious and trying to not notice the way his forearm muscles clench as he drives the truck.

Santiago snorts, glancing over at you and then back at the road. “Twenty years.” He admits, grinning ruefully. “Joined up when I was eighteen. Got out last year.” He shrugs. “Not too bad, but the retirement pay doesn’t go as far as it used to. And Fish and I were going stir crazy. Running ops wasn’t feasible, so we decided to start turning wrenches.”

“Fish?” You ask and he nods, “my partner. His name is Frankie but we had nicknames in our team in the army. His was Catfish and mine was Pope- is Pope.” He says and you frown, “where did Pope come from?” You ask and Santi smirks a little as he adjusts his grip on the steering wheel. “Back in the day, the fellas would say that women knelt before me like Catholics kneel before the Pope.”

You fluster at the thought, unable to deny his claim. Women would still kneel before him now. “I appreciate you coming out to help me so fast.” You say as he turns into the lot for the shop.

“Never leave a pretty lady on the side of the road.” Pope hums, watching as he turns the big wrecker around and he throws it park before looking over at you. “If you go into the waiting area, we have mediocre coffee and bottled water.” He shrugs and winks. “Down the hall to the right is a little break room. Fish has some Cokes stashed in the fridge for people we like.” He winks at you and juts his chin towards the building. “Go relax, we’ll take care of you.”

You nod, grateful to him for being so kind, and you get out of the truck, adjusting your skirt as you make your way into the shop, walking past the open garage doors. Frankie is just wheeling out from under a Kia Soul when his eyes find your legs and trail up your form as you walk past. The bell rings as you open the door to the waiting area and Frankie whistles as Santi strides over. “Jesus, Pope. Where’d you find her?” He asks, smirking at his friend.

Pope grins and shrugs. “What can I say, women just flock to me.” He jokes, before pointing to the car that James is rolling off the flatbed. “She broke down on the side of the road. Needs it ASAP, but I can already tell it’s gonna be expensive.” He snorts. “I might have promised her that she would be driving home tonight.”

Frankie rolls his eyes and sighs, aware that his friend often makes outrageous promises to pretty women, mostly at the expense of Frankie’s time. “Fuck, Pope.” He grumbles. “Kia’s done, go write it up and I’ll get started on the car.”

Pope grins victoriously at his friend giving in to his whims when it comes to gorgeous women and he makes his way inside, calling out the owner of the Kia to give him the invoice and take his payment while Frankie backs the car out of the bay. “Thanks man. Always appreciate you guys fixing her up.” The guy says to Pope and shakes his hand. You watch as he exits the waiting room and figure he must be an army friend. You are anxious to find out how much this is gonna cost. You might have to ask him to fix it up enough to drive around without clunking out but you know you’d be back in the shop at a moment in the near future.

Under the hood of the car, Frankie is hissing a curse as he shoves his busted knuckle into his mouth. Not really minding the grease as he sucks at the broken skin. He was used to having greasy hands from the work he did, but he fucking hated whoever designed the engine compartment on this car. “Goddamn piece of shit.” He scowls when he pulls his hand away from his mouth and looks back down at the fuel injector. It’s shot to shit and he’s pretty sure that your head gasket is leaking. It won't be cheap, just like Pope predicted, but it can be fixed today. He sighs, wondering how you are going to react to the price tag that’s gonna be slapped on this repair.

You sip the mediocre coffee, staring at the tv that has Judge Judy reruns on and you fidget, wondering what the cost of your car repair is going to run you. You’re there a while, other customers leaving. The young college kid who is helping out has gone home and you sigh, looking down at your now cold coffee.

Coming into the office, Frankie wipes his hands on a rag and looks over at you before shuffling towards the break room. “Car’s fixed.” He tells you. “Let me wash the grease off my hands and I’ll get you ready to go. Pope’s just closing her up now.”

You look up and nod, standing up from the plastic chair that’s stuck to the back of your thighs and you toss the coffee cup, wondering if the criteria to work here is to be a ridiculously hot guy. You bite your lip and lean against the counter when he comes back with clean hands. “You, uh, you didn’t even give me a quote.” You frown and Frankie sighs, “honestly, the car is on its last legs. I’m stretching its life as much as possible but you gotta look at getting a new car, sweetheart.” He explains, “I did what I could.”

You sigh, nodding and knowing he’s right. “What’s the damage?” You ask, bracing yourself.

Frankie winces apologetically. “I’m only charging you for parts.” He promises. There had been more wrong with it than he had first realized and Pope had told him to fix it enough to make it safe. “$1600” he tells you, hating the way your eyes seem to bug out of your head. “I can show you the printout. I didn’t charge you for labor. Pope told me about your situation.”

“I- shit. I- I can’t - I don’t have that.” Your eyes start to water, “I didn’t know and you didn’t tell me so I - shit. I don’t have that kind of money.” You choke, unsure of what the hell you’re going to do.

The bell rings above the door and Pope walks in, “we got her fixed up for you.”

You shake your head, “yeah and I can’t afford to pay you because you guys didn’t consult me so it’s - I don’t know what to do.” You choke again.

Pope frowns and Frankie hisses. He had thought he had talked to you. “Pendejo.” He groans, throwing the towel in his hand at Pope.

“Sweetheart, that’s what we had to do to get her running.” He tells you. “You could easily sink another two or three grand in that car. She’s honestly barely road worthy.” Pope explains and Frankie shakes his head.

“Cabrón.” He huffs. “You should have talked to her.”

You shake your head, “I don’t - I’m barely making my rent. I don’t have $1600 to pay you. Shit. I- I’m so sorry. I don't know what to do or say. Oh God, this is - this is a nightmare.” You close your eyes, almost willing yourself to wake up.

“Don’t cry.” Frankie hates when a woman cries and you are too pretty to cry over something like this. You shouldn’t have to worry about things like this at all. “We can work something out.” He promises. “A payment plan. I’m not going to unfix your car. It’ll be alright.”

Your eyes open, “really? You’d do that- I - thank you.” You offer him a grateful look and Pope clicks his tongue.

“There’s another option too.” He says, his voice lowering as his eyes trail along your form. “I can give you a discount if you…if you let me fuck you.” He says, dragging his thumb along his lower lip as his eyes return to yours. You inhale sharply, knowing you should be slapping him for that but shit, you were attracted to him from the get go.

“Santiago.” Frankie warns him and Santi shakes his head, “or for free…if you let both of us fuck you.” He says and your eyes widen, flicking to Frankie whose eyes are wide but not shocked. It’s not a secret that both men are handsome, something from a woman produced porno and you should say no, arrange a payment plan, and leave, but getting your car fixed for free is tempting.

“Both of you? And the car is free?” You ask and Pope nods. You inhale deeply, taking another second before you nod, “where do you wanna do this?”

“Holy shit.” Frankie whispers, surprised that you are actually considering this. He won’t even deny that he’s hopeful that you will decide to fuck them both. He can write off the car parts and it’s been a long time since he’s fucked anyone, let alone someone as gorgeous as you.

“Right here, in the break room.” Santiago tells you. “We lock the doors, everyone’s gone home and Frankie and I both fuck you silly.” He chuckles. “We’ll even go wash up before you suck our cocks.” Frankie nods, not wanting you to think you’re gonna be subjected to unwashed dick.

You should leave. Say no and tell them to fuck off but it’s been a while since you had sex. You’ve never had a threesome. You wonder if they have done this before. They seem to be comfortable with each other. “Uh, sure. I wouldn’t mind cleaning up myself.” You say, “do you have protection?” You don’t know them and you want to be safe, even if this is the least safe thing you’ve ever done.

“Condoms.” Frankie nods, knowing that Pope keeps a stash of them in the desk drawer for dates after work. “We’re both clean too.” He promises. “VA tests us and Pope’s had sex since but I haven’t.” He admits, feeling a little embarrassed about that.

You exhale shakily, “I’m clean too. Tested at my last gyno appointment. Uh, can I use the bathroom?” You ask and the boys nod, gesturing to the bathroom down the hall. You walk down to it, feeling their eyes on you and you shut the door behind you. Leaning over the sink, you inhale deeply and hate that you feel the churn of arousal in your stomach. It’s hard to deny that the idea of sex with two sexy men doesn’t have you wet already and you know you should be ashamed, you should say no but you can’t.

When you disappear into the bathroom, Frankie whirls on Pope. “Did you fucking set this up?” He hisses, impressed and slightly disgusted by what they are about to do. It’s almost taking advantage of you, even though you’re agreeing. Pope smirks and winks at his friend. “You won’t be upset when her pretty little mouth is sucking your soul out through your cock.” He predicts, arching a brow as if to challenge him. “Not like we haven’t double teamed a girl before. Although now I know she’s clean, I wish you hadn’t told her about the condoms. We could have filled her tank too.” Frankie rolls his eyes at the bad joke but his cock twitches under the mechanics suit at the thought of to high you. His friend has known him for far too long because he grins and slaps his back. “There’s the Fish I know. Go wash your cock and balls.” He orders and Frankie shuffles off to the employee shower room.

You wash your face and freshen up elsewhere before heading back into the hall and your name is called from the break room that Pope told you about earlier. You follow his voice and enter the room, taking note of the ratty sofa and chair in the space, the fridge in the corner and the ancient tv in the corner to match the one in the waiting room. Frankie isn’t back yet so you set your purse down and Santi sits on the sofa. “Come take a seat, relax.” He says, “you can say no at any point. Say the word and we stop.” He promises and you believe him. You sit down next to him, knee bouncing and his large hand stops it with a slight chuckle. “Nervous?” He asks and you nod, eying the condoms on the small coffee table.

“Yeah. I haven’t done this before.” You confess, “threesome. Or sex in exchange for car parts.” You joke breathily and Santi chuckles. It dies down after a moment and he clears his throat, reaching up to cup your cheek. Your eyes burn into his and he leans closer, slowly pressing his lips against yours. The contact is soft and you don’t pull back, shyly kissing him back until the fire in your belly ignites and you grip his overalls, deepening the kiss until his tongue is sliding against yours.

Frankie comes back with just a towel wrapped around his waist. Deciding a full shower would be appropriate. It was a good thing to have in the shop and made it easy to get ready for a date after work. Or fucking a girl in exchange for getting her car fixed, like now. “Go bathe your ass, pendejo.” He huffs, watching as you pull away from Pope and fluster. “I’ll keep our girl entertained.” You’ve agreed to this, so he’s interested, imagining you while he was washing. His cock is already half hard under the towel and he smirks.

Your eyes take in the sight of the mechanic. It’s clear he’s middle aged, a slight stomach, but fuck if you don’t find that sexier than a six pack. The water droplets down his chest have you itching to lick his skin. Deciding to do just that, you stand up and walk over to him, leaning forward to run your tongue along his collarbone to gather the lingering droplets of water from his skin.

“Fuck.” Frankie groans, grabbing your waist and hissing at how good the first touch of you feels. He can hear Pope laugh as he walks out of the room but he’s too busy ducking his head down to press his lips to yours in a kiss that is more impatient and slightly rougher than his brother in arms.

His fingers dig into your waist and his lips press harshly against yours. You moan into his mouth, taken off guard by the fact that you’re enjoying this so far, and his tongue slides against yours. His hands slide down to your ass and he pulls you up against him, his hard cock pressing against your hip. You let him kiss you for another moment until you push him back and he frowns, worried that you’re upset and wanting to leave. He’d let you go but he’d be disappointed. You bite your lip and reach for the tuck of his towel, pulling on it until it falls and reveals his cock. “Shit.” You murmur and admire his thick length, twitching under your gaze and you seem to fall under a spell when you kneel down and wrap your fingers around him. Your tongue is peaking out to press against the leaking slit while your eyes focus on his.

“Shit.” Frankie hisses, taking off guard by the fact that you are almost eagerly getting on your knees for him. “Fuck- strip down.” He growls out. “I want to see your tits and I want your pussy to leak all over my floor.” His cock twitches in your hand, but he pulls his hips back and offers you a hand.

His words make you clench around nothing and you reach for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head to expose your bra. You push your shirt down and leave you in your underwear. “All of it, baby.” Frankie orders and you nod, undoing the clasp of your bra and you let the straps fall down your arms and expose your tits to the mechanic you barely know.

“Fuck, those are nice.” He groans, reaching out and cupping your tits while you hook your fingers into your panties. He squeezes them and then pinches your nipples and tugs on them. “You’re gonna suck my cock, right pretty girl?” He groans. “Get it all nice and wet to fuck you?”

Usually, dirty talk like that would make you cringe but coming from his mouth? Shit, it has you dripping. “Ye-yes. Gonna make sure you’re gonna be just right to fuck my little pussy.” You talk back just as dirty, thrilled by it when his cock jumps. You step out of your panties and Frankie groans, admiring you until you kneel down on the linoleum floor to wrap your fingers around his cock again.

“Fuck.” Frankie hisses, biting his lip as he looks down at you. “Do a good job and I’ll eat your pussy too.” Despite this being an arrangement so you don’t have to pay for your car being fixed, Frankie likes eating pussy and it’s been awhile since he’s had his head framed by a woman’s thighs. You moan quietly and nod before you lean forward and take the head of his cock into your mouth. “Fuuuck.” He hisses, chin dropping down to his chest as he watches you engulf his cock.

You close your eyes for a moment, wanting to compose yourself as the head of his cock presses against your throat and you inhale deeply through your nose just as Frankie says “eyes on me.” You open your eyes and look at him as you take him deeper, unaware that Pope is back and watching you and Frankie.

He sees Pope, but he doesn’t take his eyes off you. He knows the other man locked the building down and they were the only ones with the keys. Groaning when you swallow around him, his calloused and work rough hand caresses your cheek. “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth,” he coos. “Spread your thighs, sweetheart. Is your little clit throbbing?” Pope smirks, aware that Frankie’s raspy voice manages to make women dripping wet when he talks dirty. Dropping his own towel and wrapping his hand around his hard cock to squeeze it as he walks closer. Keeping quiet until he is kneeling behind you and sliding his other hand between your thighs to touch your cunt while his cock presses against your ass. “Already soaked, Fish.” He moans in your year, kissing just below it. “I think she likes sucking your cock.”

You moan around Frankie’s cock, knowing you shouldn’t feel like this. You shouldn’t like it this much, but you do. You work his cock deeper until you choke and saliva drips down your chin. You whimper when Pope rubs your clit and it’s been so long since someone else touched you, you grind down onto his hand while your fingers dig into Frankie’s ass to encourage him to rock his hips.

“Yeah she does.” Frankie grunts, moving his hand down so he can feel your throat work around him. It’s so sexy to see you on your knees, Pope behind you as he makes sure you’re ready to take both of them. “I say she swallows my load and I’ll eat her cunt like a good little girl while she sucks you off.”

Pope hums in agreement, kissing along your neck while his fingers work your clit. You whimper around Frankie's cock, nodding in pleasure and agreement. You can't believe how these two men have turned you into a wanton whore within moments but you desperately want to make them cum, to feel and see it.

Pope’s lips travel over your shoulders, up your neck. Kissing and licking, occasionally biting your skin as his fingers rub your clit. Eventually moving down and pressing two of his thick digits inside while twisting his wrist around to press his thumb back to your sensitive bundle of nerves. “She’s so tight, Fish.” He groans, loving how you clench around his fingers. “She’s gonna feel so good.”

You clench around his fingers, lost in the sensations of his mouth and his hand caressing you. You choke on Frankie's cock as he pushes deep again and your jaw is starting to ache a little but you push through, wanting him to cum down your throat.

Frankie hisses, and rocks his hips forward again. Spit and pre-cum slide down your jaw and he loves how your eyes fill with tears and yet you don’t try to wipe them away. “So fuckin’ pretty.” He groans, “mouth like a fucking Hoover.” He can hear Pope’s fingers working in and out of your cunt over his grunts and the thick swallowing sounds and moaning around his cock. “Keep going, baby, want you to swallow my cum.”

You want it too. Your throat swallows around him and your teary eyes flick up to meet his as he pushes deep enough to slide down your throat, the hairs at the base of his cock tickling your nose and that's when he falls apart. You close your eyes when he starts to cum, walls fluttering around Pope's fingers as you struggle to swallow the spurts of cum from Fish and his groan echoes in the break room.

“Shit….shiiiiiiiit.” He hisses, eyes nearly crossing in pleasure, handing tightening around your jaw as you swallow him down. Spurts of his cum push out of the corners of your mouth and he rubs his thumb in it to massage it into your skin. “That’s it, good girl.”

You let him work himself dry and you swear you're dripping down Pope's wrist as you let Frankie use you until he is pulling his cock free of your mouth. He surges to lean down, pressing his lips against yours. Tongue pushing deep to taste himself on your tongue without care, and you whimper into his mouth.

Pope chuckles, biting down on your shoulder. “Frankie tastes good, sweetheart?” He asks as he curls his fingers deep inside you. “Let me have a taste.” He hums, not caring about tasting the other man’s spend. He’s done this before with him. Turning your head, he breaks the kiss with Frankie and captures your lips with his own as he pumps his finger inside you.

You clench around Pope’s fingers as kisses you without care about the taste in your mouth. That makes you realize they’ve done this before and it makes you moan into his mouth as his fingers curl inside of you. You need more. You break the kiss and murmur against his chin, “wanna taste you next.”

Frankie chuckles, his cock shrinking back down and hanging flaccidly, but Pope is rock hard against your ass. “We should move this to the sofa.” He suggests, reaching for your arm. “Santi can lean back and I’ll bury my face in your cunt.” He’s eager to taste you, to see how you respond to his tongue.

You nod and whine slightly as Santi removes his fingers from inside of you, and you let Frankie guide you to the sofa. “Kneel down, baby.” He demands and Santi sits on the end of the sofa, his cock hard and aching. You kiss his stomach that clenches before taking his cock in your hand and wrapping your fingers around him to guide him to your mouth.

Frankie groans, watching you take his friend’s cock into your mouth and he smirks. “She’s so fucking good, isn’t she?” He comments and Pope’s head bobbles in agreement. His own hands start to roam over your body, squeezing your ass and hips as he settles behind you and pulls your cheeks apart to get an up close look at your pulsing cunt. “Fuck, baby, you’re so pretty.” He coos before leans in and buries his tongue inside your wet heat.

You gasp around Santi’s cock. You didn’t expect them to go down on you, thought it was all just dirty talk. You expected a couple of blowjobs, both of them fucking you until they came but you never anticipated them making you cum once. You moan around Pope’s cock as Frankie ducks down so he can lick at your clit.

Frankie groans into your flesh, huffing when he can’t reach you like he wants to and he pulls away to flip onto his back. Sliding his head between your thighs and attacking your cunt from before, he lunges up latches onto your clit, wanting to hear you squeal. You’re sexy and you’re letting them fuck you so you should have just as much fun and pleasure as they do.

You cry out, letting Pope’s cock drop from your mouth as you feel the pleasure tingle up your spine and you moan Frankie’s name. “That’s it baby. Let Frankie eat that tight pussy.” Santi coos, caressing your cheek and you shift to take him back into your mouth.

He squeezes your ass and encourages you to drop your hips, wanting your weight on his face. Pope chuckles and caresses your spine. “You’re so fucking pretty, can’t wait to see what you look like riding his cock, my cock. Maybe we’ll stuff you full at the same time.” He doubts that, considering he would have just cum, but it’s a nice thought. “Didn’t we tell you that we would take care of you?”

You lower your hips, a little self conscious but he makes you grind down onto him and you whine around Pope’s cock, eager to please him now that you realize they are going to look after you. You moan when Frankie’s tongue slides through your folds and you sloppily suck on Pope’s cock.

The breakroom sounds obscene. The sounds of sucking and swallowing, moans and grunts filthily filling the air. Frankie moans as your cunt gushes, coating his tongue in a fresh wave arousal and he slurps it down greedily. Rocking your hips to make you ride his face as he licks up into you. “Fuck, sweetheart, Fish is in heaven. His tongue buried in your sweet pussy. I bet he’s already getting hard thinking about fucking you.” Pope coos. “And after he gets done making you scream, I’ll fuck you so good you’ll see stars.”

You swear you can hardly breathe as his filthy words make your pussy clench and you can’t handle it. You want these men. That’s become clear. You rock back onto Fish’s face, back arching as you try to take Pope’s cock deeper but he’s longer than Frankie, not as thick. You choke and saliva drips from your mouth as you try your best to make this blowjob one of the best he’s gotten.

“That’s it sweetheart.” Pope groans, “take it all. Fish, I swear I’m in fuckin’ love with her mouth.” He hisses, talking to Frankie underneath you. Fish grunts his agreement into your folds and is thankful that he had washed his hands, scrubbing them in the shower as he pushes two fingers inside you for you to clench around when you cum. “Cum for Frankie, sweetheart, soak his face.”

You groan, rocking back onto Frankie’s face and you’re so close. So fucking close. His lips suck on your clit as his fingers curl inside of you. You moan around his cock as you cum, clamping down on Frankie’s fingers as he makes you orgasm.

Frankie’s spent cock twitches and he starts to harden again. Loving how you are soaking his face as he sucks on your clit. Your hips grinding down on his face and he moans happily. Working you through the orgasm with singular determination.

You moan around Pope’s cock as Frankie works you through it and you want Pope to cum too. You wrap your fingers around the base of his cock, squeezing him, and you hollow your cheeks, wanting him to spill down your throat.

It takes a long moment before Frankie is willing to pull away. Listening to Pope’s groans getting breathier and lighter as he gets closer to coming. Finally pulling his head away and twisting his body so he can watch you swallow his friend down. “That’s it baby,” He grunts. “Make Santi cum. Swallow him down too so I can fuck you.”

It takes a couple more bobs of your head for Santi to cum. Your cunt clenches around nothing as Frankie withdraws his fingers and Pope starts to spill down your throat. His groan is low and loud, echoing in the room as he twitches while he spills down your throat, making you moan around him.

“Fuck….” Santi hisses, head dropping back against the sofa and moaning out as he throbs in your mouth.

“Fuck, girl, you are so gorgeous like this.” Frankie groans, chuckling as he wraps his wet hand around his cock and starts to slowly pump himself completely hard. “Swallow him down like a good girl.” He orders.

You obey, eagerly swallowing every drop of cum. Santi cums less than Frankie, none of it dripping down your chin as you let the salty seed spurt down your throat until he’s softening in your mouth. You pull off of him and open your mouth, displaying your tongue to him to show you’ve swallowed every drop.

“Good girl.” Pope pants, grinning as he leans in to press his lips to yours.

“Don’t be greedy, cabrón.” Frankie huffs, pulling you back and scowling at his grinning friend. Taking over kissing you greedily and tasting him out of your mouth with no issue.

You’ve never known two men so comfortable with each other and it’s intoxicating. You cup his cheek as his tongue slides against yours. “Baby, I need - I need you to fuck me.” You whine into Frankie’s mouth.

He hums happily, pleased that you are begging him although he knows if he had just cum, you would be begging Pope. “I’m going to fuck you.” He promises. Leaning over and grabbing a condom off the table. “How do you want to be fucked, pretty girl?” He demands. “Back, hands and knees?” He rips the packet open and starts to roll it down his length. Wanting you to decide how he fills you.

“On my back.” You answer breathlessly and Frankie nods, shifting back so you can lay down on the sofa. Pope frames your shoulders, looking down at you, and his hands instantly grab your tits. You moan and Frankie kneels on the sofa, pushing your legs apart so he can settle between them.

Shuffling closer and pumping his cock, Frankie looks down at you. Watching you squirm and moan under Pope’s touch. “Gonna fuck you, baby.” He promises, notching himself at your entrance and pulling one leg up to drag across the back of the sofa for more access. “Right now.” He grunts as he starts pushing in.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he stretches you out. He’s thick and you haven’t had sex in a while. Not since your ex. You reach up to grip Pope’s forearms as he squeezes your tits and you close your eyes. “Oh I think she likes that already, Cat.” Santi chuckles and you nod, mouth falling open as he pushes deeper until he’s fully inside of you.

“She’s fucking tight.” Frankie growls, gritting his teeth together and trying to control himself. Your hot walls around him make him just want to destroy you, but he needs to let you adjust. “Tightest little cunt I’ve ever fucked.” He hisses when you squeeze him in response to his twitching deep inside you.

You know he’s just lost in the moment but his words make you whine with need and Pope chuckles as he pinches your nipples. “God, she’s a cock hungry little whore, ain’t she?” He asks his best friend who nods and gives you another moment before he starts to move, pulling out of you almost all the way until he decides to push back in in a thrust that takes your breath away.

Frankie chuckles, loving the little squeak that gets cut off. “Let me hear you, baby.” He grunts, pulling back for another thrust. “No one here, you can scream my name as loud as you need to.” Snapping his hips forward, he drills into you again to start a harsh pace.

You can’t deny him. You cry out as he punches deep, feeling like he’s splitting you in two but you fucking love it. Your nails dig into Santi’s forearms as you take what Frankie gives you, moaning his name and you’re soaking him with wave after wave of arousal until your pussy starts to squelch with each thrust.

Luckily the sofa is leather and can be wiped off, otherwise you would be soaking it. Every time you gush around him. Making him groan as he rocks into you. “Is it worth it?” He grunts. “Letting us fuck you? Being our little slut for the night?”

You nod, “so- so worth it. Oh God. I- keep talking.” You beg, loving to hear his deep voice saying such filthy things. Pope chuckles, “keep going, Fish. She loves hearing you talk dirty. Had her soaking my fingers earlier.”

He chuckles and twitches inside you again. “She’s such a dirty slut.” He tells Pope. “I should just take off the condom and fill her cunt up with my cum, make a mess of her.” He hums. “Or I’ll pull out and cum all over her. Covering her like the little cum whore she is.”

“Oh fuck yessss.” You moan out, lost in the haze of lust, “want you to fill me up. Please, baby. Please. I need - I want - oh God.” You pant as he rocks into you, his jaw clenched and you whine out as he pushes you up the sofa and into Pope’s lap.

He smirks, enjoying how much you are begging for it but he would never make that change while everyone is caught up in the moment. “Good girl.” He groans, “Maybe I’ll wait until Pope is hard again and we’ll both take a hole. Really fill you up. Would you like that, baby?”

Your responding nod nearly makes your neck cramp. “Yes. Fuck. I- I want both of you. Want to feel both of you. I want - oh God. It’s so good, baby.” You pant, reaching up when you see Santi’s cock starting to get hard and you wrap your fingers around him while Frankie fucks you even harder. “Frank- I - oh shit.” You pant, getting closer and closer.

“That’s it, that’s it, pretty girl.” He pants out, his hips slapping against the back of your thighs as he fills you again and again. “Want you to cum for me. Want you to soak my cock. Scream my name.” He is practically begging but his hand snakes down between your bodies so he can rub your clit. “Cum for me.”

His thumb on your clit is exactly what you need. You practically squeal as you break, clamping down on his cock and soaking him as you cry out his name. Your eyes are squeezed shut and your grip on Santi’s cock tightens as you experience your second orgasm.

Pope hisses, and his cock throbs in your hand. “Beautiful.” He groans, watching you with heavy lidded eyes as Frankie works you through your orgasm and pushes for his own. “Cum, hermano.” He urges. “I want to be inside her the next time she squeals.

Frankie grunts, grabbing your leg to push it back further and you moan, opening your eyes to watch him. “That’s it baby. Cum for me.” You demand, “wanna see you cum again.” You let go of Santi’s cock to grab the back of Frankie’s neck, dragging him down to press your lips to his.

Moaning in surprise at your ferocity, Frankie feels the tingling in the base of his spine. The rush of pleasure that happens right before his body starts to tighten. Thrusting haphazardly, he growls out your name, “gonna- fuck- gonna cum.” He warns you against your lips as he gives a short, half thrust before he is pushing deep and grinding his hips, cock pulsing deep inside your cunt as he feels the condom up with his release. Sliding his tongue into your mouth as he rides out the waves of bliss.

You tangle your fingers in his hair and you kiss him back as he fills the condom up and slowly rocks into you, riding his orgasm. “Well goddamn.” Pope coos, enjoying the show and his cock throbs.

Frankie kisses you slowly until he is good and damn ready to pull out of you. Holding the base of the condom and rocking back to pull out gently. Caressing your thigh as he looks down at you. “Thank you, sweetheart.” He murmurs, smirking at your exhausted expression. “You got one more in you for us, don’t you?”

You nod, feeling boneless but you want Santi to cum too. Not because he’s footing the bill for your car but because you want him to fuck you.

You look up at Frankie and you offer him a lazy smile, “I do. Want Santi to fuck me.” You say and look up at Santi.

Frankie smirks proudly. “Good girl.” He shuffles back and lets Santiago take his place between your thighs. Standing up with a groan and walking over to the trash can to throw away the condom. “How do you want to be fucked this time?” The other man hums as he strokes a finger through your sensitive folds.

You whimper at the sensation and shift to kneel. “I want to ride you.” You tell Pope and he chuckles, reaching to smack your ass before he grabs the condom. “Let me -” He works fast to follow the rubber onto his cock and he hisses when you move fast to straddle his thighs. “Wanna feel you in my stomach.” You coo at him as you grip his cock and shuffle forward until you are sinking down onto him.

Even though he’s already cum, Frankie watches as you take Santi’s cock with eagerness. Knowing the man is enjoying himself from the way his thighs clench and he moans, hands gripping your ass and squeezing it. Unable to stop himself, Frankie cups your tits and pinches your nipples, biting down on your shoulder sharply before soothing it with his tongue. “So, ride him, sweetheart.” He orders. “Bounce on his cock like a little slut and show us what you've got.”

You clench around Santi’s cock at the filthy words and decide to follow orders. You grip Santi’s shoulders and start to move, lifting up until his cock nearly falls out of you before you sink back down. A moan escapes your lips and you squeeze his shoulders. “Fuck. You - it’s like you’re in my guts.” You confess, unable to to believe how long he is.

Pope chuckles and Frankie continues to tease and torment your nipples. “Want to be deep. So fucking deep you feel me for days.” He tells you, snapping his hips up.

You let out a noise that's half gasp, half moan, and your nails dig into his shoulders as Frankie kisses along your neck. It's overwhelming and incredible. "Shit. I will. I won't be able to - to walk tomorrow." You declare, loving the thought even if you need to work. "Fuck. I - oh God." You tilt your hips as you rock down and the change in angle has your head tilting back and a moan of Santi's name escaping your lips.

“Good.” Frankie growls, kissing along your neck. “Don’t walk. Or if you do, feel us every time you move.” He slaps your ass while still fondling your tits with his other hand. Sliding it lower to rub the puckered hole that is so close to where you are taking Pope.

You gasp at the slight invasion until you moan, "God. Want you - want you both inside of me. Wanna feel you both cum inside of me at the same time." Your inhibitions are gone as they tear you apart with their words and their actions, making you desperate to please and desperate to feel more.

Frankie smirks and pulls his fingers away to spit on them. “My fingers are going to have to do, Princess.” He teases. “You’ve drained me dry. Milked me for every drop of cum with that perfect mouth and cunt.” He rubs your hole again and starts to slowly press his fingers into you.

The added pressure has you shaking above Pope who has to thrust up into you, his hands grabbing your ass to spread your cheeks for Frankie to push his fingers deeper. The stretch has you closing your eyes, feeling fuller than ever before with Santi's cock still inside of you. "Oh fuck. That's - you're gonna make me cum." You rush out, body shaking even harder as Frankie pushes his fingers deeper and starts to move them inside of you.

“That’s it, baby, cum for us.” Pope coos. “Come apart, want to see you, hear you scream.” He chuckles and leans in to bite at your bottom lip. “Cum.”

You practically scream into his chin as the two men work your body until you’re clamping down on Pope’s cock, soaking him and clenching around Frankie’s fingers as your orgasm hits you like a steam train.

You’re a stranger to them, they don’t know you, they don’t know your life - but they know what you look like when you cum. Watching you while they are holding their breaths, thinking that you are gorgeous as you shake and gasp for them.

You collapse forward onto Santi’s chest as he rocks up into your pussy, getting closer and closer until he freezes beneath you and lets out a groan as he spills into the condom. “Shit.” You pant into his skin while Frankie kisses along your spine.

Panting, Santiago grins as he tries to catch his breath. Squeezing your ass and rocking you languidly on his still stiff cock. “You’ve blown my mind, baby.” He hums, very pleased with the way this situation has turned out. “Definitely.”

You smile, “glad we could help each other out.” You thought you were fucked when you were told the cost of the repair or your car but you now acknowledge that it’s one of the best things to happen to you. “Might have to come back when she dies on me again.” You murmur as Frankie removes his fingers from inside of you and you shift off of Pope’s cock after he holds the condom.

Frankie smirks as he helps you off the sofa. “You can come back anytime, baby.” He promises with a wink. “You can use the bathroom in the breakroom, or go two doors down and use the shower.” He likes you, but you had done this so you could have your car, not for any other reason. He looks over at Pope and chuckles at the very satisfied look on his friend’s face.

You decide to use the shower, knowing that even if they hadn’t cum inside of you, you are sweaty and you want to wash off. “I’ll go shower.” You shift off of the sofa and stumble as you try to get your balance and the boys chuckle at their handiwork.

Completely at easy with his own nudity, Frankie walks over to the sink to wash his hands. Then going over to the fridge to pull out two beers, striding back over to the sofa to hand Pope one and then opening it as he flops down onto the couch beside him. “You actually had a good idea, asshole.” He huffs, smirking as he takes a sip of the beer.

Santiago smirks, “reckon she’ll be back?” He asks, “I hope she is. Does that sound bad? I don’t want her to get into an accident but Jesus, that pussy? Worth doing some free work and writing off parts for, huh?”

Frankie snorts and shrugs. “Not too bad. Not like you fucked with the timing belt so she has to come back.” He smirks to himself, thinking that it wasn’t too bad of an idea, but he hadn’t done that. He had fixed it the best he was able. “But that car’s a piece of shit, so who knows? She might become a regular.”

You wash off with their cheap 3-in-1 men’s body wash and kinda like how you smell like them after all the sex is washed from your body. You realized you need to get your clothes from the break room and walk in with the towel wrapped around you. “Decent water pressure you have in here.” You say as you reach for your panties and drop the towel, uncaring now they have seen every part of your body.

Pope chuckles and nods. “After showering in the shittiest places all over the world and having no water pressure, Fish demanded that we have a good shower.” His answer makes you tilt your head curiously and he shrugs. “Army, special forces.” He reminds you, “plenty of times we get ready to go out here, saves us a trip home.”

You nod, understanding and hating that you feel a little jealous about them going on dates. You have zero reason to feel possessive. You don’t know them, yet you want them to yourself. You fasten your bra and redress fast, sliding your feet into your shoes. “So, uh, I guess if I have any issues I’ll come see you again?” You ask, biting your lip as you stand while they sit on the sofa.

Frankie smirks and nods. “Anytime, baby, but I guarantee you won’t have problems on the shit I worked on.” He promises. “I don’t do sloppy work.” He’s not boasting, even though it might sound that way. He’s reassuring you that your car is as fixed as he could get it with what he worked on. “We were serious though, you need to start looking for another car.”

You nod, “I know. I, uh, I gotta save up some cash. I’ll see what I can do.” You sigh and Frankie stands up, still naked. “Thank you. For everything.” You say and hug him, breathing him in before you kiss him. Santi stands up a moment later, his hand on your waist and you switch to hug him, his lips eagerly finding yours.

While you kiss Pope, Frankie finds a pair of shorts to throw on so he can escort you to the door. He palms the keys to your car and when you pull away from Santi, he holds them up. “Let’s go get you back on the road so you can go to work tomorrow.” He hums.

You step back from Santi and take your keys. "Thank you so much guys." You thank them, "seriously, thank you. You saved me." You look them both in the eyes, and Santi winks at you, "our pleasure...literally."

Frankie walks you to your car, waiting for you to slide into the driver’s seat before handing you the keys and closing the door to lean in the window. “Thank you for tonight.” He murmurs quietly and leans in to kiss your cheek. “Best pussy I’ve had.” He winks at you when he pulls back and taps the door.

You fluster, fumbling with your keys to turn the ignition, and Frankie stands there until you put the car in drive and make your way down the gravel driveway to the road. When you are driving home, you process what just happened and you think you should be disgusted with yourself for essentially whoring your body out to get your car fixed for free but you loved every second of it. Your car cruises along and you smirk as you stop at a light. It would be a shame if something else happened to you and you had to go back to the shop.

****

A week has passed and even though Frankie has thought about that night, especially when he’s in the break room, neither man has heard from you. It’s a good thing, really. It means that your car is working properly and you’ve been living your life. Leaning on the engine of a Ford Taurus that needs new spark plugs, Frankie’s back is to the lot when he hears the crunch of tires on the gravel. Another customer. He hears them pull the car to a stop and the door opens. “Go inside.” he calls out over his shoulder as he carefully replaces the first plug. “Santiago can help you.”

“I was kinda hoping you’d get your hands on my engine and make her purr.” You declare and Frankie hisses as he hits his head on the hood. “You’re back.” He says, rubbing his head and you nod, “she’s having issues again.” You bite your lip, “was wondering if you and Santi could help me out.” You’ve spent all week thinking about the two men, almost wishing your car would crap out so you could call Santi again to pick you up and help you out.

“Yeah?” The engine sounded fine to him when you had pulled up but he smirks slightly as he holds out a hand for the keys. “Leave her with me.” He promises. “I’ll find out what's wrong just as soon as I’m done with this one.” He cocks his head. “Might take awhile though. ‘Til closing.” He teases, cock twitching and he wonders if there is something actually wrong or if his instinct is right and your back to get get fucked again.

You hand him the keys and offer him a small smile, not wanting to give away what your intentions are. You bite your lip and walk into the waiting room to find Santi sitting behind the desk. “You’re back?” His eyes widen and you nod, feigning a sigh, “she’s making strange noises again.” You tell him and shift from one foot to the other, “Frankie said he’d be checking it out after the one he’s working on now.”

Santiago nods and motions towards the waiting area. “You can wait out here or you know where the break room is.” He smirks slightly and licks his lips as he remembers the last time you were in that room. “You know that we will take care of it, of you.” He drops his voice down and watches as your eyes swim with lust.

You decide to make your intentions known and walk down to the break room. Exhaling shakily, you wait for someone to follow you and it doesn’t take long for Santi’s hands to find your waist as you look up at the tv in the corner. “You come in for another issue?” He asks, voice low in your ear. “She’s not purring like she should be. Figured I should get it checked out.”

“Hmmmm.” Santiago smirks, seeing through your weak story and he presses close, flattening his front against your back. “Frankie will fix her.” He promises, whispering the words into your ear and grinning when you shudder. “Question is, how expensive will it be? And how will you pay for it?”

“I - I was thinking…maybe you could honor the last deal we had? Since it’s only been a week and it’s gone wrong already.” You say softly, feeling a little ashamed until his nose nudges your neck and his warm breath washes over your skin, making you shiver.

Since the customer wasn’t waiting for the car he had been working on, Frankie abandoned it as soon as you walked inside and started looking at yours. Quickly finding out that nothing is wrong with the car beyond what he knew about a week ago. He chuckles to himself as he wipes his hands as he walks over to the door. No one else is at the shop and once again, you are alone with the two men. He walks in to find you and Santiago looking very intimate and he hums. “Well, sweetheart, looks like you’re in another bind.” He lies, feigning concern. “Transmissions gone and it’s gonna be at least a thousand bucks.”

You make sure you look a little distraught as you turn to face the other man. “I- you know I don’t have the money. Can we - can we honor the last deal we had?” You ask, sticking your lower lip out.

His eyes slide behind you to Pope and it’s obvious that he’s seen through your charade. Pretending to consider it, he bites his lip. “Depends on what you’ll let us do, baby.” he finally decides. “We’ve both fucked you, gotten our dicks sucked. What can you give us this time?” Your eyes widen and he smirks. “I’m thinking that you let us fuck you bare this time.” He growls. “No condom. Both holes.”

You close your eyes, trying to refrain from your shiver of anticipation, and you pretend to consider it. “And you’ll do what it takes to fix my car?” You ask, “for free?” Frankie nods and you bite your lip, “deal.” You hold your hand out and he takes it, dragging you to him so he can press his lips to yours. You moan into the kiss, reaching up to tangle your fingers in his hair as Santi comes up behind you to kiss your neck and work on the button of your jeans. It’s as overwhelming as it was before but you’re already drunk on them both.

They should stop and clean up. Shower, but somehow Frankie doesn’t think that you care how clean they are. Maybe you even prefer the idea of sweaty, hardworking men using you. His tongue slides into your mouth as he snakes a hand up your shirt to squeeze your tit over the lacy bra you are wearing. Something you obviously put on in anticipation of getting fucked. Frankie drags his lips away from yours to groan. “Do you want her ass?” He asks Pope, knowing the man loves anal.

The way he discusses you like you’re an object shouldn’t make you clench around nothing but it does and Santi’s fingers slide into your lace panties to find your clit and you moan, arching your chest into Frankie’s hand. “Of course, hermano. Her ass is mine. You take her pussy. She’s already wet for us.” He chuckles darkly as he twists his hand to slide his finger through your folds as Frankie pulls your shirt over your head.

“Of course she is.” Frankie scoffs. “We’re going to make her cum. Multiple times. How often does that happen?” He quickly unhooks your bra and ducks his head down to wrap his lips around your nipple and bites down on it.

You pant, “not too often until - until I came here.” You confess, “ex didn’t make me - not like you do.” You admit breathlessly as Santi works on pulling down your jeans, helping you kick off your sneakers and he groans at the sight of the lacy thong. “Someone had high hopes.” He teases and you chuckle breathlessly, “don’t hear you complaining.”

Frankie pulls off your tit with a pop and chuckles. “Oh we aren’t complaining, baby” he promises. “I’m just trying to decide if Pope’s gonna lick your pussy while I’m balls deep or we’re gonna double team making you cum on our tongues before you get our cocks.”

“Shit.” You hiss, your body almost vibrating with need for them. You’ve spent every night since you came here to get your car fixed thinking about them with your hand between your thighs. “What - whatever you want. I’m yours. You can do whatever you want to me.”

“Oh we’re going to.” His chuckle is bordering on mean and Pope smacks your ass. “Gotta get a thousand dollars worth of pussy.” Pope teases, sliding his hand back between your thighs and pushing two fingers inside you. Frankie hums and decides he can’t wait. “You’re going to sit on my cock while Pope eats you out.”

You nod, unable to deny the man a thing. He quickly strips out of his overalls and there’s something so sexy and raw about him as he strips down and Santi notices, chuckling as you clench around his fingers. When Fish sits down naked on the sofa, Pope withdraws his fingers and you shift to straddle Frankie but he shakes his head and turns you around. You nod and shuffle back, gripping his cock so you can sink down onto him, bare and thick. “Holy shit.” You moan, leaning back into his chest and Frankie spreads your legs a little wider.

Frankie groans and slides his hands up your thighs to cup both of your breasts. Pope is staring at your cunt, his cock pushing deep as he strips out of his own clothes. “Fuck, she’s even better without the condom.” Frankie pants as he rolls your nipples with his fingers and twists them slightly to hear you gasp.

You moan in agreement, “can feel all of you.” You reach back to run your fingers through his hair as Pope strips down. His cock bounces as he comes over to the sofa, kneeling down in front of you and you watch him as you start to work yourself on Frankie’s cock. On your tiptoes as you try to lift yourself enough to ride him.

Grunting, Frankie rocks his hips up to fill you again. Enjoying the squeal and he squeezes your breasts roughly again. “Couldn’t get enough of us, could you?” He grunts. “Too bad we aren’t your landlords. You could just pay rent in pussy.” He teases. “Be our personal cocksleeve.”

“Fuck.” You pant, tilting your head back against his shoulder. “I fucking wish.” You declare and Santi runs his hands along your thighs, bringing your attention to him. You look down and his dark eyes meet yours as he leans forward to slide his tongue against your clit, just above where Frankie’s cock is disappearing inside of you. “Oh my God.” You whine at the added sensation.

“Eat her pussy good, Pope.” Frankie orders as he starts to nibble and lick on your neck. “She deserves to cum before we’re filling these little holes with our loads.” He groans when you clench down on him. “You like that, baby? You want to drip our cum? We can jerk off on you too.”

“Yes. Shit. I want - I want you to ruin me. Use me. Cum on me. In me. Do- do whatever you want.” You ramble, knowing that you’re completely drunk on them. You’ve never been treated like this and it has you begging for more. Pope’s tongue slides along your folds and you moan when he sucks your clit into his mouth.

Slapping your breast, Frankie bites down on your shoulder, hoping to leave teeth impressions. Leaving a mark on your skin. He rocks his hips up and hums. “We will. You’re such a willing little slut for us.” He hisses, loving how much you enjoy the dirty talk.

“I am. Only for you. Only ever like this for you two. Fuck, Frankie. I- shit.” You reach down to tangle your fingers in Santi’s hair, rocking your hips again to try and find the spot to make you cream. “Oh God.” You gasp when you find it, rocking frantically as you work yourself up to your orgasm.

“That’s it. Fuck you get so tight.” Frankie coos as you bounce on his dick. “Cum for us. Cum and Pope will slide into your ass and you can cum again. And again until we finally fill up your little holes and let you feel us for another week.”

His words combined with his cock and Pope’s mouth around your clit has you falling apart. You squeal, closing your legs around Pope’s head as you collapse back against Frankie while you convulse with your climax. “Oh oh ohhh.” You cry out, eyes clenched shut.

Frankie groans, twitching inside you and trying to bite his lip to control himself. Wanting to make sure that he doesn’t cum too early. He wants to fill you up when Pope is also inside you.

You relax, panting as you work through your orgasm, and Pope caresses your thighs while you recover. "Frank, lay down and let her sit on your cock while I get her ready." Pope says, slapping your thigh. The other man nods and you shift off of him so he can lay down on the sofa.

Frankie watches as you straddle him, smirking as he leans up and bites the top of your tit and smacks your thigh. “You ready to take both of us, baby?” He asks roughly, eager to stretch you out and hear you scream again. You’re addicting and so fucking eager for their touch.

You nod, a little apprehensive but eager. You have done anal before with your ex so you know what to expect but you've never had two men at the same time. You shiver as Pope straddles the sofa behind you, a bottle of lube in his hand. "You had that hanging around?" You tease breathlessly.

Pope chuckles and he shrugs. “Spit sucks when you’re jerking off.” He tells you easily, before he opens the bottle to squirt it onto his fingers. “Gonna work you open for a few minutes, baby. Want you to enjoy it.”

You gasp softly when his fingers prod at your puckered hole and you whimper when he pushes a finger into you. "Fuck baby." You murmur, clenching around Frankie's cock while his hands caress your waist and up to your tits.

“It’s okay, baby.” Frankie coos softly. “We aren’t going to wreck you until you’re ready.” He promises. He knows that Pope is eager to slide inside you, but the man is a trained operator, he has the patience to wait until it will be nothing but the sweetest pinch of pain for you. “Open up for him. Let us make you fly.”

You nod, eyes fluttering closed when Pope adds another finger, scissoring to try and open you up a little more. You gasp again, "God, it feels good." You confess, rocking slightly on Frankie's cock as Santi opens you up for him.

“Kiss me, pretty girl.” Frankie orders, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck and dragging you down to his lips. You’re intoxicating and he wants to gorge himself on you while Pope works you open and slides inside your tight little hole.

You slide your tongue against his and you moan into his mouth as Pope adds a third finger, pumping them deep and you pant into Frankie’s mouth. “Oh God. I need - please. Need you both inside of me now.” You beg, needing to feel fuller than ever before.

Frankie and Pope both chuckle because of how desperate that you sound. Frankie kisses you again as Pope slowly withdraws his fingers and reaches for the luge again to generously coat his cock in the clear jelly. “Relax for me, sweetheart.” His hand caresses your spine as he shuffles closer and presses the head of his cock to your puckered hole as Frankie holds your hips steady.

You inhale deeply, preparing yourself to take his cock. You bite your lip as he pushes into you and you wince at the slight pinch but it disappears as soon as it comes, and you are moaning when Pope pushes into you and you feel fuller than you've ever felt in your life. "Holy shit." You hiss, body almost shaking from the sensation.

“That’s it, baby.” Frankie caresses your sides. “You’re doing so good. You look so fucking pretty split open by our cocks. Doesn’t she, Pope?”

"Fucking incredible, hermano." Pope says as he watches his cock disappear into your ass and you're so fucking tight. He thought your pussy was tight but this is - it's mind numbing. "I need you to move." You tell them, thighs shaking slightly.

“We’re gonna move.” Frankie promises, lifting his hips and slowly starting to scrub his cock along your walls. “You just hold still and let us do all the work, baby.”

You can’t move, sandwiched between the two men as their cocks push deep until they start to move. Frankie moves first then Pope, alternating so you’re always full of one cock and it’s overwhelming, more than you’ve ever felt before. Inhumane whines and cries escape your lips as you let them use your body.

Frankie can tell you love it, even if you can’t speak right now. Your tight little cunt is made even tighter by Pope and he can feel the other man through the thin wall. Sliding his hand around your hip as he rocks his own up, his thumb finds your clit and he presses against it to start rubbing tight circles over the bundle of nerves.

You squeal at the added stimulation. It’s too much and yet not enough at the same time. You shake as you let them use your body for their pleasure and the pleasure you receive back is making your eyes water. It’s so good. “Oh fuck.” You finally gasp out and Santi kisses along your neck, biting down your shoulder the opposite side of Frankie’s bite.

Frankie groans and slaps your thigh. “Fuck you’re so pretty like this.” He hisses. “Gonna be even prettier filled with our cum. Wanna take a picture of those cum filled holes.”

"Yesss. Do it. I wanna - I wanna see." You confess and try to rock your hips but they have you trapped between them as they rock into you.

Pope groans when you grip his cock unconsciously, "so fucking tight. Thought your pussy was tight but mierda, this is- shit." He hisses and rocks into you, over and over while Frankie rubs your clit, his thick cock pushing deep until you burst. "Oh I'm gonna - I'm gonna - oh fu-!" Your cry becomes a choke as you clamp down on Frankie's cock.

Both men have to stop moving because you are shaking so hard, your walls gripping them like a vice and they each moan. Frankie groans your name when you collapse forward and Pope grips your hips and immediately starts rocking into you frantically.

You are sweaty and overstimulated but you want them to fill you up. “Come on baby. Fill me up. Want to be dripping both of you. Want you to take - take a photo to keep. Want - shit - I need your cum.” You pant out, turning your head to press your lips to Santi’s jaw.

Pope chuckles and nods. “We will.” He promises before he kisses your mouth. Frankie grunts, watching the kiss as he starts to move again, falling into that alternating rhythm with Pope. “Fuck, you’re such a little slut. I fuckin’ love it.”

You pant, “yesss. For you. Only for you. Yours. This body belongs to you both.” You promise as Pope kisses your chin, his grunts get louder and more ragged. “Cum for me, fill me up.”

Santiago is the first one to tip over the edge. Gritting his teeth and hissing out your name as his hips slap against your ass once, twice more before he is letting out a strangle grown and grinding deep, cock pulsing as he fills your ass.

You love the way his fingers dig into your hips as he holds you close while he cums. "Cum for me, Frankie." You demand, wanting to feel the other man spill inside of you too.

Frankie pants out an acknowledgment of what you had moaned and rockets up the pace of his thrusts. Bracing his feet on the sofa and fucking up into you as hard as he can.

All you can do is hang on as Frankie fucks up into you a half dozen more times before he’s cumming, filling you up and making you shudder as the sensation of both men cumming inside of you gives you a small aftermath orgasm that makes your pussy milk Frankie for every drop.

“Fuuuuuuuuck.” Frankie groans, pulling you close to kiss you again. His tongue is surprisingly gentle, intimate instead of demanding while he rides out his orgasm inside your perfect cunt.

You kiss him back just as eagerly, moaning into his mouth and Pope kisses along your shoulder, “so good.” He murmurs into your skin and you hum your agreement.

“God, I definitely don’t think I can walk for a while.” You giggle and rest your weight on Frankie as he twitches inside of you.

Frankie chuckles. “It’s a good thing you don’t have to.” He tells you and smirks at Santiago. “Go get your phone.” He orders. “So we can take a picture of those cum filled holes.” He had meant it when he said he wanted a photo. His eyes slide over to you. “If you will let us take one.” He adds. “Not your face though. And it’s only for us.”

You nod, “no face. Only for you.” You tell them and Pope nods, slowly pulls out of you. “Clench baby. Keep it in.” He orders and you giggle, trying to stop his cum from pushing out of you. You frown slightly at knowing it’s gonna be a bitch to clean up but it was worth it.

Frankie smirks at the face you make as you clench down, twitching inside you even as he softens. Santiago goes to grab his phone out of his pocket and comes back over. “Pull off Fish’s cock, baby, and stick your ass out.” He orders as he opens the camera app and zooms in.

You follow his orders, lifting off of Frankie and you lean forward to display your ass and pussy to the camera. You reach behind you to spread your cheeks, giving him more of an eyeful as their cum starts to drip from inside of you.

"Fuck, you are so perfect." Pope groans, snapping several photos of the creamy mess they have made of you. "So fucking perfect." He repeats, smirking down at the screen when he gets done. Frankie hums his agreement as he watches you.

“I need to shower but I don’t think I can stand up.” You declare as you let go of your ass and shift to sit on the leather sofa, wincing at the aches already happening to your body.

Frowning slightly at your discomfort, Frankie swings his feet off the sofa and stands up, before he leans down and pulls you up into his arms with a soft grunt. He's carried grown men when he was in the Army, 300 pound packs of gear; and since getting out - hauled around heavy engine parts. Carrying you to the shower is not a big deal. "Then I'll just carry you." He tells you with a smirk.

Your eyes widen and you wrap your arms around his neck as he carries you to the shower. It’s incredibly sexy and you almost want him to fuck you again but you can’t take anymore sex right now. He sets you against the wall as he turns on the water and you bite your lip, watching him and Santi enters the shower a few seconds later. “How the hell are you two single? Holy shit. You are single?” Your eyes widen as you realize you never had that conversation with them.

Frankie snorts and Santi chuckles. "Baby, if we weren't single, we wouldn't be fucking you." He assures you quietly as Frankie reaches for the 3-in-1 body wash and the loofa that is hanging from the shower knob.

"We aren't that sleazy." Frankie adds, lathering up the loofa and kneeling down to start washing you. "Although I'm wondering when you're going to admit there was nothing wrong with your car."

You fluster, watching Frankie as he washes you, his hand tenderly sliding through your folds to wash you. “I, uh, I was going to…eventually.” You confess bashfully. “I thought - well, I didn’t want you to think I was easy or- or desperate by coming back to say I needed you to fuck me.” You admit, biting your lip.

"Don't think either one." He makes sure he cleans you gently, knowing you have to be sore and he doesn't miss the way that your hands are holding onto Pope as he leans you against him. "The sex is amazing and I'd be lying if I wasn't thrilled when you came back."

You smile, “I’m glad you think so. I- fuck. Do you think I could get regular tune ups at home? Would be nice to get a service in a bed.�� You smirk, “saves me having to drive to the shop.”

Pope looks over your shoulder and down at Frankie. The other man smirks as he pushes to his feet, the loofa abandoned and his soapy hands cup your tits. "We are mechanics." Frankie teases, "we can make anything purr." He loves the way you gasp when he pinches your nipples. "Especially you."

You moan and Pope kisses your cheek, “we can make house calls.” You kiss his lips and grin, “perfect. I can’t wait to see what else you can do.” You giggle and Santi caresses your sides, “oh baby, we are just getting started.” You smirk and enjoy the way the men sandwich you between them.

“We can set you up for regular maintenance.” Frankie promises and kisses you softly. You all wash up and dry off, redressing and soon the boys are walking you to your car. “She’s good to go but we will need to check on her this weekend. Saturday?” They ask and you nod, “you have my number and address from my file. I’ll see you then boys.” You wink and gingerly get into your car. You pull out of the garage parking lot and the men watch you go.

“Best fucking tow pick up ever.” Santi slaps Frankie on the back and Catfish nods, “and we are only getting started.” The men smirk as your car makes its way down the road, several problems that need fixing soon orchestrated by the mechanics to guarantee they see you again. Even if it wasn’t necessary after all.

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