#i'm playing toys. i'm making them kiss and seeing what happens

[to-the-batcomputer]

i don't like when there's a #problematic ship and most of what i see is people trying to make it ok. trying to make it 'normal.' i'm here for TOXICITY

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ YES, I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND, AND YES, SHE'S REAL! ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: what happens when your gamer boyfriend brings you on-screen for the first time?

contents: fem!reader. use of she/her pronouns + reader is referred to as gojo's girlfriend. toji slander bcs he deserves it.

author's note: everyone welcome streamer!gojo to the world! he'll be here for a while...

"oh, please," satoru laughs, leaning back and grinning at the screen in front of him. he tosses his hair, but it falls back into his eyes just seconds later. "no way you guys all thought i would lose that one. c'mon, have some faith in me!"

you watch satoru reply to the hundreds of comments lighting up the side of his monitor, smiling endearingly at the way he laughs at some and practically chortles at others.

it was only after the two of you started dating that satoru disclosed his streaming hobby, and to your surprise, he was pretty popular. thousands of people tuned in to watch him play some game or another every night, and well, it paid better than you'd expect.

satoru whistles, hands resting comfortably behind his head as a particular question catches his attention. "ah, do i have a girlfriend?" he muses, grinning as he shoots a quick side-glance at you. "yeah," he continues, snorting when what looks like a flurry of no fucking way's flood the chat.

he clicks his tongue disappointedly, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "what, did all eight thousand of you think i couldn't pull? thanks a lot," satoru deadpans, waving his hand and sighing dramatically. "i don't know what any of you mean. i'm a catch!"

you snicker at that, and your laughter only increases when satoru turns and gapes at you. he juts his bottom lip out, face sinking into an adorable pout at he crosses his arms. "even my own girlfriend's laughing at me," he mumbles petulantly. "hmph!"

satoru sticks his tongue out at you childishly, and you blow a kiss back. he pretends to faint before turning back to his monitor, quickly skimming the comments before he gasps. "what do you mean, she probably doesn't exist?!" he sputters, clutching his heart exaggeratedly.

the look on his face is priceless — imagine getting told by thousands of people that one, they think you can't pull, and two, that they don't even believe your significant other exists. naturally, satoru reacts as dramatically as ever. he pretends to ignore everyone in the comments before calling them out individually.

"oh, i see you, toji... fishy-guru," satoru gripes, wagging his finger at his screen. "my girlfriend exists and she's mine! don't even think about it." he pauses, squinting at the chat before correcting himself with an eyeroll. "fushiguro. whatever. either way, she's real and she's all mine."

satoru swivels his chair to face you, making an incredulous face as he gestures to the screen. "can you believe this?" he grumbles, ocean-blue eyes focused on you. "these guys don't think you're real."

you shrug, toying with the corner of his sheets as you smile back at satoru. he's so childish, but that's just one of the many things you adore about him. sure, he's an annoying brat, but at least he's a total sweetheart too.

your boyfriend extends his hand, beckoning you to come over to him. "c'mon, darling," he cooes, scrunching up his nose at you. "wanna help me prove these losers wrong?" satoru mouths please, and the puppy eyes he gives you are cute enough to convince you.

so you hop off his bed, running a hand through your hair as you stroll over to where he sits in front of his monitor. beaming like a kid on his birthday, satoru takes your hand and twines his fingers with yours.

smiling smugly, satoru pulls you on screen and into his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. you watch the chat erupt with she's real's and how did he pull a girl like her's and smile, flicking satoru's forehead affectionately.

he ignores the thousands of dumbstruck users in his comments and holds you close to his chest, adjusting his grip on your waist to make his lap as comfortable as possible for you. satoru's adoring eyes are fixed on you, only you, even as his chat explodes.

suguru-geto: haha i already knew

toji-fushiguro: how the fuck did a loser like him pull her?

yuuji-itadori: gojo has a girlfriend??? what did i miss??

[sturniqlo]

I CANT DO IT ALONE- CHRIS STURN

summary: while mom!y/n stays home with their littles all day, chris doesn't see how tired she is and he puts more pressure on her. BLURB

cw: cursing, ANGST; arguing, crying, exhaustion, FLUFF; kissing, comforting, resolved angst

an: not apart of my positive series | lowkey hate this | lowercase intended

masterlist | join my taglist

-----------------------------------------------

"daddy!" the littlest child, leslie, runs to the front door when she hears the door opening. "hey, les! how's my little girl?" chris smiles and locks the door behind him before kneeling down to pick up his daughter. "so so happy that you are home!" she squeals, wrapping his arms around his neck tightly. "yeah, i'm happy to be home too." he kisses her cheek.

"where are your siblings?" he refers to his five year old set of twins and his ten month old baby. "uhm- landon is watching a movie, lia is playing in our playroom and layla is sleeping." she says as chris walks them, and steps over some toys, towards the kitchen where he hears y/n shuffling around. "why don't you go get lia while i say hi to mommy." he puts her back on the floor.

"okay!" she nods, her pigtails swaying in the process. "lia! daddy is home!" the three year old goes up the stairs. chris enters the kitchen and sees his y/n preparing the twins' lunch for tomorrow. "hey, baby." he wraps his arms around her waist from behind. "oh, hey you're home." she turns her head and smiles softly at him. a tiredness in her eyes that chris doesn't seem to notice. "how was your day today?" she asks, going back to making the lunches.

"tiring," y/n almost a scoffs. "i had three meetings for future drops and filmed a video with nick and matt." he kisses her neck. "oh, well, i'm glad you're home now." she closes up the small containers. "hey, is it okay if-" she gets cut off by she yelling of leslie. "mom! lia won't give me the princess pjs!" she stomps into the kitchen. "these are mine!" lia comes in behind her, wearing the pink princess pajamas.

"leslie, you have the same exact ones in your closet." y/n says, opening the fridges and putting the lunches away. "no i don't! mine are dirty!" her lip quivers. "you didn't do the laundry today?" chris says, leaning against the island counter. "no, i had to go grocery shopping, clean the kitchen, our bathrooms, and i just washed everyone's bed sheets." she says, the girls still arguing.

"i'm sure you still had some extra time to do a load or two." he adds on. "no, chris. i had to take care of layla, she's still sick." she sighs, cleaning up a spill of juice from earlier. "hey, mom. can i stay up late and watch toy story 2?" landon comes in. "no landon, you have preschool tomorrow." y/n says for the third time today, he had asked her that earlier. "dad?" landon looks to chris. "of course you can, bud." he ruffles the boys' hair. "you're the best! see mom, dad lets me."

"chris, he has to wake up early tomorrow, he can't stay up late. it's almost time for bed." she looks at chris. "c'mon, just for today." y/n shakes her head. "no. kids, go brush your teeth." chris rolls his eyes at her stubbornness. "why are you being so strict?" he asks. "im not." she practically laughs. "just let landon stay up, tomorrow is friday anyway."

"exactly, he can stay up late tomorrow." she leaves the kitchen and chris follows. she walks into laylas bedroom and checks in on her. she had gotten sick two days ago. "oh my gosh!" chris whispers. "what?" she says. "i forgot to get the medicine for her yesterday." y/n shakes her head. "it's okay, i bought it today." y/n grabs a tissue from the changing table and cleans the snot from layla. "i'm sorry." he says. "it's okay, it happened already." she throws the tissue away and exits the room.

"did i do something? why are you mad." chris continues to follow her back downstairs. "stop it, chris!" she abruptly stops and turns to face him. chris stands there in shock at her sudden outburst. "just stop! i've had the most tiring days- weeks of my life! and you're here saying that you've had a tiring day all because of three meetings and filming video?"

before chris could say anything back, one of the kids upstairs called for y/n. "mom! she spit on me!" y/n sighed and turned back around going back up the stairs to resolve whatever was going on. chris decided to go back into the kitchen and look for the dinner y/n had mentioned earlier.

chris ate dinner alone while y/n was upstairs putting the kids to sleep. he cleaned his used dishes before going upstairs to his bedroom. "wanna tell me what that was all about?" he said when he saw y/n putting on the bedsheets she had washed. "lia had spat on landon." she said. chris shook his head. "not that, i'm talking about what you had said earlier." he walked closer and picked up a pillow along with a clean pillow cover.

"i don't want to talk about it." she mumbled, going back to putting on the bedsheet. "why not, there's clearly something bothering you." he pushes on. "you want to know what's bothering me chris?" she pauses. "i feel like i'm raising these kids all by myself. you're never home! you leave before the twins wake up for school, and you don't return until they're going to bed! on the weekends it's the same!"

"i'm working, you know that." chris says sternly. "i understand that, chris. but does it hurt to take at least one day off? just one day to spend time with them? just one weekend?" she runs a hand though her hair, frustrated. "do you not understand that i'm working my ass off for us! for our kids! for their futures!"

"i know that chris, but you have the privilege to choose to work from home- to stay home and you don't use it!" chris rolls his eyes. "you have the most easiest job in the world, you just watch the kids play, feed them and change laylas diapers!" he raises his voice.

"you're kidding right?!" she scoffs. "you think taking care of four kids alone is easy? i make them breakfast, i take the twins to school, i have to buckle all four of them in the car even with two of them are crying, i have to give a toddler and a baby my attention at the same time, i teach les basic things, i have to clean the whole house, i do the laundry, i cook, i take the trash out, i change diapers, i pick the twins up from school, i help the twins with their homework, i shower all four, i get them ready for bed, i break up arguments, i deal with their tantrums. im tired chris. i have no time for myself."

"i love those kids with all of my heart, but you promised me, chris. you promised me that we would raise them together! it seems like i'm raising them all by myself. and i understand that you're providing financially for us- for them, but i need your help in a non-financial way." she feels tears racing down her face. she didn't even know she was crying.

"y/n.." chris had never realized she was feeling like this. he felt bad, he hated that he never saw this. she was right, he was always there, but never there. he doesn't remember the last time he actually sat down with his children and played with them. "i- i don't know if you actually care about what i just said, but ive kept it in for so long i thought i'd let you know how i feel." with that, she turns around and walks to their bathroom and shuts the door.

chris sighs and runs a hand through his hair, taking it all in. "mom!" he hears one of his kids yell for their mom. without hesitation, he sits up and goes to who was yelling. "layla? you okay?" he sees that her door was the only one cracked open. "daddy?" she whispers. "it's me, why're you crying, sweetheart?" he takes a seat on her small bed when he sees her cheeks are damp with tears. "i- why are you and mommy yelling at each other?"

chris' heart breaks when he hears that his daughter heard them arguing. "we just- we had a little argument- just like you and your siblings have sometimes. but, everything is okay. i promise." the little girl smiles at the reassurance. "oh, okay."

"would you like me to take you and your brother to school tomorrow?" he says after he had been laying with her for sometime. "really?" she gasps. "of course!" he says. "will we pass for donuts? mommy always takes us every friday to get donuts for breakfast." she plays with the hem of his shirt. "we can, does mommy get a donut for herself?" she nods. "mhm, she likes the strawberry sprinkles, she told us you bought one for her on her birthday a long time ago." chris laughs at the exaggeration. "wasn't that long ago, just seven years ago."

chris recalls the time when they had just started dating, it was her birthday and he bought her a strawberry frosted donut with sprinkles and stuck a candle on it. "that's so far ago." she giggles.

he had stayed with her until she fell back asleep again. quietly, he exited the room and gently shut the door behind him. chris headed back to his bedroom where the soft glow of the lamp lit up the room. "babe, are you sleeping?" he says, closing the door and walks over to the bed where y/n is currently laying down. "no." she says and sits up on her shoulder. her hair a bit damp, chris knew she never liked to fully dry her hair with the blow dryer. "can we talk? i don't want to argue, i hate arguing." he tosses his shoes off and situates himself next to her.

"okay." she grabs her glasses off of the side table since she doesn't have her contacts in. they sit in silence for a bit until chris decides to talk first. "'m sorry you've been feeling this way. and- and i cant believe i didn't take notice. i mean everything was right in front of me. i'm never home, you're always alone with the kids, you're constantly tired. i- i'm so sorry, babe. i never meant to make you feel like this- to put you through this."

"it's- it's okay chris. i know you've been so busy with the new drop and everything. but, i just want to let you now that i'm not asking you to drop everything and stay home with us forever, just asking you to take a few days off during the week. i miss you, the kids miss you." chris wraps his arm around y/n and pulls her into his chest.

"'m sorry, 'm so sorry. i'll stay home until wednesday, when i have to film, how's that sound, hm?" he presses a kiss to her forehead. "really?" she looks up at him. "of course, anything for you." he says and lays them both down. "chris!" she squeals.

"let me love on my wife!" he kisses her neck up to her lips. "how about i take you out on saturday night? we take the kids to matt and nicks house. and we go to a nice restaurant and come back here for the night?" he pecks her lips. "i would love that." she hums, kissing him back. they lie together on the bed for a while until y/n speaks up.

"as much as i love being like this, you know i hate outside clothes on the bed." she tugs on his shirt. "i knew i couldn't get away with it." he sighs and kisses her lips before getting up. "i'll be in the shower, choose a movie for when i get out."

[muwapsturniolo]

...Looks pretty 𐙚 C. Sturniolo

"Answer me or I stop."

✘ NSFW content ahead, fingering, mutual play, exhibitionism (?), the girls might as well be lesbians!

@bernardsbendystraws pov for doll is in the title!!

Bun was scared, her stomach in the pits of hell.

Her, Doll, Chris, and Matt had decided to sit in the living room and watch a movie. Nick would have been with them, but he had work meetings to attend, so the four were on their own.

Each couple were in their own world, curled up on opposite couches and watching 'Planet of the apes'. However, Chris and Matt had their own plans.

The two males knew how close their girls were to each other, in fact, they were too close to each other. The girls would cuddle with each other, change in front of each other, and sometimes even kissing eachother.

It's like they were attached at the hip - Like they were in a relationship.

So Matt and Chris decided to test how close they really were, as well as show the girls who they belonged to.

Chris eyes Bunny, watching her eyes dart across the tv, reading the subtitles quickly so she won't miss the action on the screen. He looks to Matt, giving him a subtle nod before starting to rub Buns thigh. The girl thinks nothing of it, used to Chris always touching her in some way.

She loved it, she loved affection - his affection.

However, what she didn't love was the way his hand started to sneak up her thigh and down the front of her frilly shorts, the same shorts Doll was currently wearing. She tenses and tries to pull his hand away, her brows furrowed and eyes wide. She hears Chris snickering softly. She may be sitting in front of him, but she could just see the smirk making it's way onto his face.

"Chris-" she hisses softly, her eyes darting to Doll and Matt, hoping they didn't see or hear what was going on.

He ignores her and simply spreads her folds apart and begins toying with her clit. Her eyes flutter shut before she snaps them open, trying to look inconspicuous.

She couldn't believe she was letting this happen, she felt bad - sort of.

The situation was ludicrous yet exciting, the idea of her boyfriend fingering her while her best friend and her best friend's boyfriend were just a few feet away, made her embarrassingly wet. The idea of being caught, maybe even having them watch, made her brain go fuzzy and her walls flutter.

She finds it hard to stay quiet, biting her lip and constantly clearing her throat.

"Y-You ok B-Bun?"

Bunny's head snaps to Doll, her eyes wide thinking she had been caught. She tries to get away with nodding, but Chris doesn't let her, asking her another question as he speeds up his assault on her puffy and aching clit.

"Yeah Bun, you ok?" Her breath hitches as he whispers in her ear, his breath warm.

"Answer me Bunny, or I stop."

"I-I'm goo-" Her jaw drops open as Chris pushes two fingers into her aching hole, immediately curling them against that spot that makes her turn into a mess. Her fingers harshly grip at Chris's arm, trying to stop herself from moaning out loud.

However, as soon as she hears a soft moan falling from Doll's lips, she allows her own to follow. It became clear what was going on, both boys forcing the girls to participate in exhibitionism. She couldn't even be mad, it was something so taboo yet so exciting.

Now not having to hide what was happening or what she was feeling, Bunny throws her head back onto Chris’s shoulder, closing her eyes and gyrating her hips to match the quick yet lazy movements of his fingers. 

“M-Matt!”

Bunny’s eyes snap open hearing Dolls voice, her focus now on her. 

She looked so pretty.

Her face scrunched, her lips in a soft pout, the way her nipples poked through the tight fabric of her tanktop. 

It was an erotic sight.

She’d never tell the other three, but the sight of her best friend being pleasured was enough to send her over the edge.

“Come on Bun, let go f’me.”

Chris pants into her ear, his own orgasm approaching. Her walls flutter around Chris’s finger, her moans going up in pitch. Chris groans lowly as he feels her wetness seep through the material of his sweatpants, his dick twitching softly. 

Both girls lay against their respective boyfriends, panting softly and high off of their orgasms, their minds racing with thoughts about what just happened. 

Chris and matt look to each other, confirming what they already knew with a silent nod.

Both girls were more than comfortable with each other for this to happen.

What group activity could be next?

[sturn-saturn]

hey baby girl

pairing: fem!pregnant!reader x husband!chris

warnings: just cutesy stuff <3

a/n: i thought of doing this while watching shameless 😁

week 20: "hey, baby girl!" chris says as he holds up a camcorder. "so today, mama and i went to the baby doctor and we found out you're a girl!" your husband turns the camera to you and your hand is placed on your baby bump rubbing it up and down while the other is holding up your ultrasound pictures.

"we're so excited to meet you baby girl!" you smile kissing the camera goodbye.

week 21: "hey, baby girl!" you say holding the camera. chris is upstairs in your shared bedroom still sleeping. "as you can see, mama just woke up, i'm very tired but dad i have some errands to run so we can prepare for you to join us in 19 weeks. so the plan for today is to visit your grandparents, dads parents, then we're going out to target to look at some onesies for you and little socks to keep your tiny toes warm, after is the grocery store. i'll be sure to get some yummy stuff so i can keep you and i fed! alright baby girl, catch you later!" you say kissing the camera once again.

week 22: you and chris were on the couch watching coraline since it was your favorite comfort movie.

"hey baby girl!" chris says holding the camera up to face you both has his other hand is rubbing your belly gently.

"so right now dad and i are watching my favorite comfort movie because i wasn't feeling well today."

"her tummy was cramping but don't worry, it wasn't your fault. you're our baby girl, you could do no wrong." your husband says with a big grin.

"i'm hoping when you're older you enjoy this movie as much as i do. your dad and i actually watched this on our 5th date i believe." you smile.

"alright sweetheart, mamas gotta get her rest, see you tomorrow!" your husband says kissing the camera.

week 23: "hey baby girl! alright so we are in the car right now and todays plan is going to the doctor to make sure you're healthy and see how much you've grown. after that we need to find a bassinet for you to get a good nights sleep!" chris smiles at how cute he finds you.

"there are so any people who can't wait to meet you sweetheart. 4 grandparents, a bunch of aunts and uncles, our friends too!" he adds.

"you're so loved already, honey. okay we're here! time to go!" you kiss the camera.

week 24: "hey baby girl so today, uncle nick and uncle matt dropped by and got you some presents. they got you the cutest onesies, some baby bottles, and toys! we know you wont be able to play with toys until you grow a bit and get used to the new world but you are going to love them! also dad has something to say." you hand the camera to chris and get up to get a snack.

you over hear your husband talking to the camera and your eyes soften looking over at him.

"mama and i are gonna do everything we can to protect you. we will support you in anything you want to do. the only things we want from you is to be a good person and spread love. also you have to play lacrosse or hockey like me and your uncles did!" he laughs.

"chris what if she doesn't wanna play either of those?" you ask.

"well what every she decides to play she's gonna be amazing. she's half of you anyway. bye darling!" he yells kissing the camera.

week 25: "hey baby girl! we're currently at grandma and grandpas house for a little cook out with the family." you say showing everyone around.

"are you guys making a little vlog for the baby?" jimmy asks.

"we are!"

"mind if i say a few words?"

"not at all!" you hand the camera to jimmy and you use this time to rest your arms a bit.

"alright sweetheart. as you know, i'm your grandfather, your dads dad. i just wanted to let you know that i can't wait to meet you. you're my first grandkid! as much as i love my boys, i've always wanted a girl in the family and you're finally making that dream happen. i will definitely be taking you on fishing trips so get ready!"

jimmy hands you the camera with a big smile on his face. "you're gonna be a great mother, honey."

tears start to well in your eyes from the love you've received from your husbands family throughout the years. you thank jimmy and you kiss the camera goodbye.

week 40: "hey baby girl!" chris whispers. "today is a big day. mama felt some extra kicks last night and it turns out you're coming today! she's currently resting right now so she can use all her energy and strength to bring you here. keep this between us, but your moms a superhero." he smiles.

"chris?" you mumble. "come here."

chris comes over with the camcorder in his hand with a look of concern on his face. "what's up mama?"

you reach your hand for the camera and he hands it to you.

"hey sweet girl. i'm sure dads told you we're at the hospital right now waiting for you to come. it's currently 10pm and we're all super tired but this is all worth it if it means we get to finally meet you." you smile lazily.

4 hours later...

the doctors all finally left the room. they said that was the easiest delivery they've had to work through. chris is currently standing with your baby girl in his arms facing the window to see the city lights.

"hey clara." chris whispers rocking his daughter back and forth gently. "mamas resting again. the doctors told her she did a great job! i told you your mom was a superhero. in just 3 days you'll get to come home with us. how exciting is that!? grandma and grandpa are coming tomorrow to see you as well as your uncles. i love you baby girl. goodnight." chris kisses his daughters head before setting her back in her bassinet.

he relishes in the feeling of being a new dad before he drifts off into a good nights sleep.

taglist:

@sturniolos4life16 @hoeforchrizz @luckyscharms @emely9274 @chrispotatos @weirdratperson @simpson12 @ilovemenwithlonghairr @angeldvstee @pussypie456 @valentinasturniolo @chrissturnioloenthusiastforlife @cravingchrissturniolo @wonnieeluvvr @flouvela

[thinkingotherwise]

Summer time!

~Let's go to the beach-each Let's go get a wave...~

I'm not a beach person but anything for the Bofurin Primo

Wind Breaker characters on the beach with you

Bubble gun 🫧🔫

Seiryu Sakaki - The moment you took out the bubble gun his eyes were glued to it and he waited for the perfect moment. You filled it with bubble liquid and when your finger moved to the trigger to try it, it disappeared from your hand within a second. You looked surprised to the side to see Seiryuu smirking at you before his hand raised higher and he used it making the bubbles fall down around you and on your body.

Mitsuki Kiryu - Your beach bag was slowly emptying as you pulled out everything you needed. Noticing the toy in your collection he didn't think twice before grabbing it. His eyes glimmered in joy while his lips turned into a smirk. He gave you a quick kiss and tested the bubble gun before running around while attacking his friends with the bubbles.

Kotoha Tachibana - Your gaze turned to her, as she lay down on her beach chair. You contemplated hard about what to do, was your plan gonna work? Sink or swim, let's go. You quickly made up your mind and sneakily took out the bubble gun before stealthily standing behind her. Your hand extended and bubbles came out of the toy and coated her in the soapy substance. She sighed deeply before quickly turning to you and grabbing the thing from your hand. Her face scowling while yours pouted begging for her to give it back.

Takeshi Enomoto - You loved to irritate him, lovingly of course. Anything to have his attention on you and only you. And he, because he loved you way too much, knew you well enough to be reacting to your strange antics in a different way than this. He had a poker face while you ran around him spraying the bubbles around him and then around you playing with them and trying to pop each one that appeared. He breathed deeply and just let you have the time of your life. Seeing your big grin a small smile appeared on his face.

Inflatable flaming/unicorn 🦄🦩

Jo Togame - Oh it was such a great purchase. You thought as you finished pumping the air inside the pink flamingo float. It was perfect for keeping some distance from the rest of the unruly guys from Shishitoren and their water shenanigans. You grabbed the float and entered the water with it before proudly sitting on it and watching everyone have fun and drown themselves (playfully). That was until he swam closer to you and tried to get you to join them. Yet your stubborn self decided to keep yourself on top of the pink flamingo. His smirk made you question his next actions as he swam under water disappearing from your view. Suddenly you were thrown from the float with a yelp and as you came up above the water he smirked at you grabbing you closer to him and swimming closer to others while you trashed in his hold.

Choji Tomiyama - If you knew it would happen you would bring a mattress or something bigger to lay on, rather than the unicorn float. And what exactly happened? You weren't sure either, one second you were floating on the unicorn happily playing with your hands in the water, and the next he appeared above you falling down on you as if jumping from somewhere, or maybe one of the guys helped him. It didn't end well, because as soon as he landed on you, both of you went flying as the unicorn titled sideways making you fall into the water with a splash and he laughed joyfully wanting to do this again.

Yukinari Arima - It was such a bad idea. You jumped in the water trying to get on top of the unicorn float you brought with you to the beach. You should've climbed it when the water wasn't so deep, also as soon as you thought about it you should've done it, maybe then you wouldn't still be in the water while he was taking your place on the float. He made fun of you for not being able to climb on the unicorn and when you told him he couldn't do it as well he proved you wrong. And now the unicorn was stolen from you as you whined from your place in the water and he laughed joyfully sinking in his victory.

Yuto Kusumi - You laughed to yourself from your place above water as you floated happily. He swam near you asking if you would let him join you. After you declined it with a grin he decided to take some revenge. The sun brought you sleepiness and you had a quick nap all the while he watched as you drifted further away but always making sure it wasn't too far away from him. When you finally woke up wiping the sleep from your eyes you were further in the water than you expected and panicked a little calling for him to help you out. He teased you but still came to help you. In thanks you let him join you on the pink flamingo.

Sunscreen ��️🧴

Toma Hiiragi - His eyes furrowed the moment the words left the stranger's mouth. He quickly made his way to you and glared at him before grabbing the sunscreen bottle from your hands and moving to kneel beside you. You giggled as he voiced that you're perfectly fine and don't need this stranger's help. He can't even imagine anyone else but him touching you and massaging the sunscreen onto your body. You happily positioned yourself as his hands started moving over your warm skin, teasing him here and there that you wouldn't let anyone else do it and there was no need for him to get jealous.

Minoru Kanuma - You finished putting the sunscreen on him and then he moved to do the same for you. Although the feeling was slightly different than you thought as his fingers slowly moved over your body. First, you didn't mind it all that much focusing simply on the feeling of his palm against you but then you thought about it more and when it came to you, you turned to him with accusation evident on your face. You asked him if he was writing on your back instead of applying the sunscreen evenly and he couldn't help the laugh that left his mouth as you glared at him in betrayal. After confirming your accusation he promised to do it correctly this time.

Ren Kaji - He sat down beside you watching carefully as you applied the sunscreen over your legs and arms. His gaze followed the movement of your fingers as if hypnotized and you smirked to yourself when you noticed it from the corner of your eyes. The next moment the bottle was in front of him as you gazed at him with your pretty eyes asking him to put it on you. He gulped grabbing the sunscreen and facing your partially naked body. And then you lay down telling him to sit on your legs because that way it'd be easier. He didn't know why he agreed but he did and later he had to keep himself in check as his hands slowly massaged the substance over your warm and soft skin.

Akihiko Nirei - The moment you finished putting on your sunscreen you turned with a smile to him. He gulped seeing the mischievous sparkle in your eyes and when you proposed to put the thing on his back he flushed red. He stuttered out a confirmation while you positioned yourself behind him your chest close to his back making him aware of the warmth and closeness of your body. And then your hands touched his skin and he felt a shiver ran down his spine. He quickly stood up tripping over his legs as he ran away yelling that he was going to swim first and later he would join you sunbathing. In reality, he just needed to cool himself off and let his heart slow down from the quick beat your hands brought it to.

Ice cream 🍨🍦

Hajime Umemiya - Noticing the booth near the beach you didn't think twice before grabbing his hand and bringing him to get some ice cream. It was the perfect sweet dessert for the hot day and you read all the names of flavours thinking which one would be the best. After choosing your favourite you shared it with him and he decided to buy two cones, one for each of you. At least you thought so when he ordered them. When the stall booth employee gave it to him he didn't let you grab your ice cream as he brought it to your lips. It seemed like a sweet gesture and you licked the ice tasting the sweetness. You voiced your approval and before you leaned to get another bite it was gone from your sight just like he, who ran away while laughing merrily with both cones in his hands. You chased after him yelling his name and how he was a thief.

Hayato Suou - You brought the ice cream cone to your mouth licking the slowly melting dessert trying to keep it from dirtying your fingers. It was a hard task especially when the weather was so hot it melted even before you grabbed it from his hand. He watched carefully his cup of ice forgotten and only grabbed more tightly with each second his eyes were stuck on you. The ice finally got to you and started dripping down your fingers and you tried to lick it off while a small pout was visible on your face. You stopped your task despite your determination and turned to him to ask if he liked the sweet dessert only to be met with his eyes on you while his mouth was softly opened in arousal.

Uryu Sakaki - Both of you enjoyed the ice cream cups that you got all while sitting on the beach towel and enjoying the breeze of the sea. He hummed happily with each spoon that entered his mouth the whipped cream and sparkles making his mood even better. You yourself liked your dessert but his big smile made it taste even better. And when you noticed the ice cream at the corner of his mouth you chuckled softly getting his attention. You placed the cup by your leg as your now empty hands grabbed his chin and cheek and you leaned closer. Your lips touched the corner of his getting the cold treat and you pulled away while licking your lips. His eyes widened as his face got redder and not necessarily from the hot weather.

Kota Sako - With him, it seemed like a checkpoint, to get some sweet dessert anywhere you were. Somehow he had this 6th sense to pick the best place and the best food options. And so you found yourself with two pretty and tasty ice cream desserts in front of you. You ate yours praising him for his great choice and he smiled enjoying his. Then he picked the best flavours that he knew you'd like and scooped them on his spoon before extending it towards you. You let him feed you feeling warm as he leaned close to be more comfortable. You of course reciprocated and the both of you ate the desserts sharing them between you two.

Playing in water 🌊💦

Tasuku Tsubakino - You had your swimwear on. It was flattering on you and fit you perfectly. And you had to use it in the water. You looked at them, as they were lying there in the beach chair tanning. You huffed to yourself knowing it was already a few good minutes that the both of you spent not in the water, where you really wanted to be. You asked once more if they wanted to join you but as you received yet another no you begrudgingly entered the water alone. Your gaze moved to them as they turned to their stomach and away from you and you smirked as a plan developed in your mind. You quickly ran up to them and picked them up as they yelled at the cold water clinging to you and squirmed in your hold. You held them tightly to your chest and entered the water together while they squealed and when you let them down on their legs they had no mercy. They splashed you just like you wanted while yelling at you and laughing when you begged them to stop.

Taiga Tsugeura - He was the one to bring you to the water and encourage you to play with him as you splashed joyfully. Then he proposed to bring you on his shoulder and carry you. Soon you made it into a game with others to see who was the best. His hands tightly gripped at your legs as he maneuvered expertly making you the winner and taking part in pushing every opponent of yours into the water. In the end, in celebration, and with your acceptance he threw you back from his shoulders making sure you were alright, and grabbing at your waist as he helped you swim back above the water.

Teruomi Inugami - You were lying on the beach towel enjoying the sunshine unaware of what he was getting ready for. Somehow he got his hands on the water pump gun. How? You weren't sure he just got it and you got to know about it only when he ran up to you attacking you and spraying the water over you. You watched in relief as he avoided your bag and all the things you brought only wetting your swimsuit and the towel you were on as you grabbed it and tried to cover yourself from his attacks. His laughter filled the air and he jumped to sit near you when the water gun was empty. You grimaced at him but seeing his happy face a smile appeared on yours as well.

Swimsuit 👙 🩳

Kyotaro Sugishita - As soon as you came to the beach everyone started getting ready taking their clothes off or going to the changing rooms to put on their swimsuits. He was already dressed in one so he just started pulling out the beach mat for the both of you. His eyes caught the movement from your side and he stared with open mouth while you took off your clothes. Left in your chosen swimsuit he immediately stood up and put the Hawaiian shirt he had on around your shoulder to make sure others don't look at your body.

Haruka Sakura - Both of you decided to do some shopping for the beach trip Umemiya was organizing. Sakura was quick to pick some swimming trunks for himself while you had your hands full of colorful swimwear you wanted to try on. You made him wait for you and give opinions about which was the best choice. His face was red basically all the time as you showed off the swimsuits to him in the changing room. He was literally having the best and worst time of his life.

[buckyalpine]

I'm in a angsty, fluffy, sensitive babie mood. You know that silly prank people do where they text/talk to their partner all serious about having to confess something serious just to tell them "I'm Batman". So imagine Bucky does that but he has no idea how badly it would trigger you.

"Y/n" Bucky entered your shared bedroom quietly, letting his heavy duffle bag hit the ground with a thud. "There's-there's something I have to tell you"

"What is it, is everything okay baby" You set down the book you were reading, growing worried seeing his fallen expression. He sighs, slowly approaching the bed and taking a seat by the edge next to you. You move to see if he's injured anywhere but he stops you, resting his hand on your leg.

"I'm fine. It's just-something I've been meaning to tell you. Probably something I should've told you a long time ago" He bites his lip contemplating his next words, itching to burst into a fit of giggles. "I have to tell you the truth"

"Tell me the truth?" Your stomach drops and your throat starts to tighten. "You can tell me Bucky, anything" You struggle to keep your voice steady, holding your breath, waiting for his next words.

"It's just-I can't believe I kept this from you and it isn't fair to you at all, you know?" He runs his hand through is locks while keeping his blue eyes cast down. "It's been going on for about a year now..."

If you weren't already sitting down, you would've passed out. All the pervious anxieties you'd had in past relationships, all the deep insecurities and worries you had came pouring out at once, your deepest fears coming true.

Of course Bucky was seeing someone else.

Of course you weren't good enough.

Of course he cheated on you just like the last guy, why did you think you deserved someone to love you, obviously-

"I'm bat man!-baby? baby, what's wrong" Bucky went from giggling like a madman to feeling pure dread within a matter of seconds seeing your tear streaked face. His nervous act was no longer just an act, anxiety filling his chest seeing you so distraught. "Oh God, baby don't cry, I was joking, c'mere"

"W-what?" You sniffled, trying to swallow down a hiccup while Bucky scrambled to scoop you in his arms, wiping away your tears.

"I was just kidding around with you doll, I said I was bat man, I didn't mean to upset you babygirl" Bucky cooed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head while you slowly got your breathing under control again. Bucky truly thought you would've whacked him with a pillow or playfully shoved him off the bed, never in a million years did he think you'd take actually any of this seriously. You whimpered in his arms as he squeezed you tighter, continuing to give you soft, sweet kisses.

"Baby-do you-do you really think I'd ever cheat on you?" He spoke softly, keeping you cradled in a ball, close to his body. A part of him felt hurt that you felt that way, that he'd ever given you room to think he would do such a thing. He thought he was going to cry, the very thought of being with anyone else made his heart hurt.

"I thought you were seeing someone else" you whispered, old pains of coming in second resurfacing. "Maybe you found someone better-

"Never" Bucky moved to cup your cheeks firmly in his hands, making you look at him, "I would never. I love you so much angel, so much it fucking hurts. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I wouldn't even dream of someone else. I couldn't, I-fuck, you're everything to me" His own voice nearly cracked with emotion, resting his forehead against yours. "I love you. I love you like I've loved no one else, you have my heart sweet girl"

"Promise?" You toyed with his dogtags while he pressed his lips firms to yours, sealing every bit of his feelings with that kiss.

"I promise baby" He pulled you down to lay with your head resting on his chest, his hand gently playing with your hair, "So back to what I was confessing - Ow"

...

"I deserved that"

[luxurychristmaspudding]

watch

summary: after showing frankie what he was missing, something seems to have been awoken in you all. with joel away on a contract and santi called out of town, you're left in frankie's care. except one rule still stands - you can't touch.

read part 1, listen, here BONUS: al's handy guide to reading watch

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

rating/warnings: 18+. MDNI. no outbreak (tlou) - but based after the tf mission. alright, buckle in. softdom!joel, softdom!santi, sub!frankie, sub!reader, lil bit of softdom!reader and bratty!reader as well hehe. drinking, pet names (inc. little/baby girl, baby boy). rules get broken (surprise!), praise kink, dirty talk, daddy kink, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it!), exhibitionism, voyeurism, public fingering, blowjobs (m receiving and giving), rimming, mutual masturbation, phone sex, use of toys (f&m), consensual somnophilia, cumplay, edging, facesitting, anal fingering (m), mfm, anal sex (m receiving), tiny bit of breath play (not reader), light bondage, brief gagging, very high sex drives but who can blame them, once again so many orgasms i lost count, and in the immortal words of @thatredheadwriter, 'so much fluid exchange I think a hasmat team should probably go in to clean it up' reader wears dresses and has hair, but has no other descriptions. no use of y/n.

wc: 25k (i know, i'm so sorry)

an: many many many thanks to the peeps who waited an age for this. you've all been so patient and kind and i hope you enjoy! for @schnarfer, @swiftispunk, @5oh5 and @janaispunk who, without their constant encouragement and recommendation, this may not have happened at all <3 dividers as always from the wonderful @saradika-graphics

In the weeks that follow, you wait for the ball to drop. 

You wait to feel weird about what the four of you did, for the kick of it, for Joel to reveal that he actually wasn’t that sold on it. You wait for a text or call from Frankie or Santi to say it was nice knowing you, but it was a little much, a little weird to see you around now. 

It doesn’t happen. 

You stay slotted into Joel’s life like you were always meant to be there. You stay over at his, he stays over at yours. You spend lazy Sunday mornings making waffles or pancakes and getting fucked dumb. He brings you flowers when work is hard, you rub his shoulders when he’s had a rough day on site. Your body is marked beneath your clothes with his bruises, the shape of his teeth, and his is marked by yours, the scratch of your nails traced delicately down his back. 

You spend your time orbiting around each other, close and safe in the bubble you’ve built, warm and soft in the afternoon sunlight that streams through the curtains on your days off, eating in and eating out. He becomes more familiar than anyone else has ever been with the inner workings of your mind, the inner workings of your body. He introduces you to his brother, Tommy, and his wife, Maria. He talks about you to Sarah, and she says she’d love to meet you next time she’s home from college. He makes space for your books on his shelves, and your clothes find a way into his wardrobe; his squeeze into your drawers, a spare toothbrush for him in your bathroom. He kisses you, hot and open mouthed when he drops you off at work, does the same when you find his truck waiting outside for you when you’re done. He asks how the boys are when you come home from drinks with them, listens with sparkling eyes when you tell him Benny’s latest hookup is from the bar you used to work at, the place where they first met you. He chuckles and tells you he's glad Santi introduced the two of you when he did, before any of the others swooped in and took you for themselves. 

Sometimes, you think he forgets about the night that Frankie asked you out, the conversations that followed. How close it could have been. 

But that's naive of you. Naive of you to think that he doesn’t see, doesn’t seek out the claim that Frankie and Santi have also made on you. Because he knows. In some infuriating, impossible way, he always knows. 

He shows you he knows one morning, when you have already been awake for what feels like hours, watching his broad chest rise and fall with deep, sleeping breaths.

You trace the curve of his nose with your eyes, the scruff of his beard, the way his curls have grown out. Luscious and thick, spattered with grey, curling down into the nape of his neck. His lips look so warm, so soft, that you’ve been challenging yourself, seeing how long you can go without kissing him awake. Seeing how long you can go with just remembering how they felt between your legs last night, wet with spit and your release as he soothed you through orgasm after orgasm, kissing your thighs, sucking marks into your soft flesh as he held you down with one thick palm braced against your belly, the other with its fingers gently pumping in and out of you. The deep timbre of his voice when you made yourself look at him, his praise, good girl, there she is, doin’ so good for me, sweet girl through your tears, as you begged him, begged him for something else, something more. More, daddy, you’d pleaded. You'd needed something thicker, something deeper. You always do.

You squirm beneath the sheets, pressing your thighs together. Try to think of anything else. The green of his bedroom walls, the boots you know will be at the end of the bed. His trinkets on the dresser - the watch Sarah bought (and fixed, many times) for him, the picture of him and his family at Tommy and Maria’s wedding, your clothes scattered about the floor, the chair in the corner of the room, the chair where he sat that night, as he watched, as he watched you -

You roll over onto your side to look away from it, squeezing your eyes shut, barely able to control your whimper. You’re slick between your thighs, too warm as your wetness mixes with the cum still drooling out of your cunt. You try and count his freckles instead, starting from his forehead to his cheekbones, down to his neck - his neck - his shoulder, the bite mark you left there as he spilled himself into you, the hand resting on his chest, his thick fingers, his fingers -

It’s no good. It’s no fucking good. He needs to rest, so you take a deep breath and steel yourself. Coffee. You’ll head downstairs, you’ll make coffee, and when he’s slept enough you’ll talk him through everything you’ve been thinking about, and he’ll make it better. Starting with his tongue.

You press your hands to the mattress as you start to raise your torso from the bed, and almost immediately at the shifting of your weight, Joel’s hand shoots out to grab you.

‘Where you goin’, pretty girl?’

You smile, smug. So he's awake. And you know, with his grip like this, you’ll get anything you want from him.

‘Coffee,’ you say, leaning over to press a lingering kiss to his soft lips. He returns it, eyes still shut, hand shifting from your forearm to your bicep, to your shoulder, to the back of your neck. He holds you there as he draws his tongue across the seam of your lips, and with a groan you let him in. The bristle of his moustache tickles as he licks into your mouth, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth as his free hand skates between the sheets to skim over your bare thigh. You shift against him, bringing your calf over both of his legs. The movement brings his hand forwards, dipping between your legs to trace two fingers up through your drenched cunt. You moan loudly against him, and Joel chuckles.

‘Last night not enough for you, little girl?’

You hum against him, shaking your head. He retracts his fingers.

‘Words, baby.’ He reminds you.

‘No, da-’ you start, but as soon as your lips part he has his fingers on your tongue. On instinct, your eyes flutter shut and you suck them, swirling your tongue over the thick digits, savouring the taste of you both.

‘Rude to talk with your mouthful, sweet pea,’ he murmurs, ‘Somebody oughta fuck some manners into ya.’

With his fingers still in your mouth, Joel turns you onto your back, bracing himself away from you to watch you continue to suckle on his fingers. He pushes them further back, further, further, only to watch you begin to gag around him.

‘Good girl,’ he says, withdrawing them, spit-slick, before bringing them back to your pussy. He watches your face as he pushes them easily inside, the crease between your brows, the way your jaw slackens, the way your eyes widen as he curls them into your sweet spot. He nods, pleased. ‘Think you’re wet enough to take me already, baby,’ he says, swiping them over your clit. You jolt, moaning again at the feeling. ‘What do you think?’

‘Yeah, daddy,’ you sigh, ‘Ready for you.’

Joel chuckles.

‘Always so ready f'me, isn’t she, princess?’ He says, lining himself up at your entrance, gripping your jaw to keep your eyes on him. He doesn’t expect an answer this time. ‘Yeah, always dripping for me, aren’t you? Poor baby girl. Poor baby girl and her messy little pussy.’ 

He feeds his cock to you slowly, so slowly. You whine and arch against him as he does, brain trickling away from you, already so given in to the sensation; mind deliciously blank, nails scratching at his forearms as he cages you in, thrusting deep, bottoming out. When he sees your eyes roll back, he picks up his pace smoothly, thrusting faster and harder, deeper. You moan out a long daddy, and he huffs in amusement.

‘Does daddy feel good, sweet girl?’

You gasp out a yes, fuck, daddy, and he hums in response.

'There she is,’ he says, ‘Didn’t need coffee, did ya, baby? Just wanted daddy. Just needed your daddy, hm?’ You nod furiously, tongue loosened by the heavy weight of him inside you, babbling away about how good he feels, how deep, how big he is. You lock your ankles around the bottom of his spine to pull him closer, and he groans, head dipping to yours. ‘Yeah,’ he breathes, ‘You take what you need, baby. Just wanna get fucked, huh? Woke up dreamin’ a me? Dreamin’ a me fuckin’ you full of my cum again, babygirl?’

You moan again, neck pulling taught as you arch further, pull him in deeper. The coil deep in your belly tightens, jaw clenching as you scratch at him, as you tug the hair at the nape of his neck.

‘Poor baby, can’t even get her words out,’ he coos, and like he wants to prove his point, he pushes even deeper, tip kissing your cervix, the bruising feeling making you gasp, making you plead, making you beg as you try and move your hips away from him. He brings his hand away from your face to your waist, keeping you in place.

‘Relax, sweetheart,’ he smiles, rocking in and out of you again, ‘I know you can take it, just relax f'me. That’s a good girl. I know it’s big but you can take it.’ 

You clench around him, painfully, try to mumble out how close you are, but you can’t even summon the words. In this room, he is all you can see, all you can hear, all you can feel. The slickness of it, the heat, the burning pleasure rising inside you as you writhe beneath him.

‘I know, baby, I know,’ he murmurs, ‘You’re close already, huh?’ You hum, body tight, so close, so close, head so empty. ‘Yeah, you are. Fuck, love when you get all stupid on me like this. You like getting fucked dumb on daddy’s cock, baby? Can you feel me all the way in here, sweetheart?’ he asks, moving the hand on your waist to press against your lower stomach. You clench harder as he presses down, the coil tightening, spiralling, and you’re right there - ‘Wish you could fuckin’ see yourself right now, baby. Wish you could see how pretty ya look getting fucked. You like being watched, don’t ya, darlin’? Yeah. Want Santi and Francisco to watch again, baby?’ You gasp at his words, surprised, vision blurring, hurtling towards your climax, the build up scorching, impossibly long. ‘Sure you do. Or d'you want Santi to fuck you again, make you scream his name while he’s inside you, huh?’

Fuck, okay. Okay -

‘Yes, daddy -’ you breathe, pussy fluttering around him, the beginnings of your orgasm.

‘Santi? Or is it Frankie, baby? You want his mouth on you, want to feel him stretch you open? He’s big, isn’t he? Wanna see how he feels, if he fits like me?’

He is, you remember, he is, and you could try. If you can take Joel, you can take Frankie, and oh, what a thought -

Your body pulls tighter, aching, painful, and you cry out.

‘Shit -’ you moan, ‘Shit, Joel, I’m -’ 

‘Come, babygirl,’ he tells you. ‘Come all over my cock, princess. Get it nice and wet, just how daddy likes it.’

You burst aflame beneath him with a shout, body jerking as you hiss and gasp, gripping him to you as he fucks you through it. You whimper with every thrust as he keeps talking through gritted teeth, thrusting harder.

‘Yeah, that’s it. So sweet, baby. Good fuckin’ girl. You want them again, darlin’? Want to play with 'em? Want to watch 'em play with your daddy?’

A needy whine slips past your lips as you picture it; Frankie on his knees, Santi on all fours, and you grow even wetter at the thought, the slick of your orgasm and Joel’s words making the prettiest noises.

‘She likes that,’ Joel says, almost to himself, ‘Yeah, she likes that. Dirty girl. Dirty girl, wanting all three of us, wanting to watch, hm? Wanna touch, baby? Wanna see how it feels?’ He looks so fucked out on top of you that even you’re not sure if he knows what he’s saying, what he’s asking you. But you gasp out a yes anyway, something warm and quick trickling up your spine, tightening your cunt again.

‘Another one,’ he grunts, ‘Another one, darlin’, and I’ll give you what you want.’ 

You don’t need to be told twice. Your second orgasm rips through you lightning fast and white-hot, so good that you hear ringing in your ears, so tight that Joel stutters inside of you, groaning, breathing your name as he pumps and spills and twitches. You’re both breathing so heavily that it’s all you can do to lie there, licking your lips as Joel pulls out with a moan and flops beside you. A breathless little giggle escapes your parted lips.

Joel reaches across your body and tugs you by the arm until you’re nestled into his side. Too hot, too breathless, but you breathe him in all the same, tracing patterns on his chest.

The room is quiet as you both come down from your highs, your eyes falling closed as Joel presses a kiss to your hairline. Your brain tries its best not to think, not to read into it, but even through the exhaustion, his words come back to you.

Watch, touch. 

You have to know. You have to ask, now, want to know, want it, want it, want it -

‘Do you - do you want to do it again?’ You stutter.

Joel puffs out a laugh to the ceiling.

‘You’re gonna have to give me at least ten minutes, baby.’

You laugh and nudge his side with your fist.

‘No,’ you smile, ‘No. The - the thing you said, about that night -’

He raises an eyebrow, and you bare your teeth awkwardly. 

'You know - that night.'

‘Mm?’ Tease.

You lean further onto his chest and take his skin gently between your teeth. You nip, and he relents. You lean back slightly to look at him.

Joel smiles at you, crooks his head so he can nibble at your ear lobe.

‘Baby, I’d love to.’

The sound that leaves your lips is obscene, and you don’t care. Fuck, the thought of it. The three of them together, the four of you together.

‘All we gotta do is send the text,’ he says, ‘Could send it now and they’d be here in the hour.’ He chuckles. One of his hands moves down to your thigh, hooking it over his hip before moving to your ass to rock you against him. You groan into his shoulder. Your next question leaves your lips before you can even stop it.

‘Did you - did you mean what you said, about you and Santi and Frankie?’ You ask. It sounds clumsy, almost like you shouldn’t be asking. Fuck, maybe you should have waited for him to bring it up. You tense, waiting for his reaction.

Joel opens his eyes again with a small smirk, peeking down at you down his aquiline nose. His movements still.

‘Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.’

You draw a quick breath and hold him closer. You won’t ask anymore questions. Try to push away thoughts of what Joel could do with his hands, his mouth, his cock, of what the two other men could do with theirs, what it would be like to watch, what it would be like to feel -

‘I’ve never… I’ve never done it before.’ Joel says, quietly. 

You pull back from his chest and watch him watch you. His dark eyes are honest, wary, and a question forms on your lips. He said he had been with multiple people in the past, it was something he’d done, something he was clear he had enjoyed -

‘With a man. I’ve never… done anything with a guy.’

Your stomach swoops at his nervousness. You feel your brow crease, a hand reaching up to touch his cheek.

‘That’s okay,’ you whisper, ‘That’s… I didn’t realise, that’s all. ‘M sorry if I pushed you.’

Joel shakes his head. He hums beneath you, a deep rumble in his chest. 

‘Y’didn’t. You ain’t.’ 

You stroke your thumb along the patches of his beard.

‘Do you… want to talk about it?’

Joel closes his eyes again, takes a deep breath. 

‘I’ve thought about it. For a while. Watching people, watching you. I’m… curious.’

You nod, even though he can’t see you.

‘That’s normal, baby,’ you whisper, ‘So normal.’

Your mind flashes back, back to how tender he was with you, with Frankie. His warmth towards Pope as the four of you cleaned up afterwards, as you dressed in the comfiest clothes you could find. The way his eyes lingered on your body, Santi’s body, Frankie’s, the curiosity you glimpsed as you snacked and rehydrated, the goodbyes as they slipped out the door.

It makes sense.

And it’s even better to know that all this time you’ve been imagining it, he has, too.

‘I’d like to try it,’ he says, blinking at you. ‘With them. With you. If that’s okay?’

You clutch his face tighter, tender, warmth blooming in your chest at his trust. You smile wide at him, and he visibly relaxes. Tears threaten in your eyes.

‘Yes,’ you breathe, ‘Yes. Of course it is. I… it’d be more than okay.’

He swallows.

‘You sure?’

You untangle yourself from him as much as possible, but he keeps an iron grip on your waist. You settle on your elbow.

‘Of course I’m sure, baby,’ you soothe, ‘Of course I am. I’m glad you told me. It’d be - it’d be an honour - it’s very brave of you to -’

Joel cuts you off with a snort, pulling you roughly back against him. He holds you tight within his grasp.

‘Very brave -’ he chuckles.

‘It is,’ you insist, muffled against his chest, ‘It is, and if there’s anything you want to try -’

He pulls you up so your face is level with his, and shuts you up with a firm kiss. And when you lick him a little while later, tongue pressed up, pressing in to his tight ring of muscle, you find that there is plenty he wants to try.

And plenty you want to help him with.

———

Will greets you first at the bar that evening, and you quickly lose yourself to the rhythm of the night.

The five of you are tucked back into your usual booth, bottles and glasses crowding the table, the noise of other patrons bringing you closer together, knees knocking, hands over forearms to claw yourself further into the conversation. You talk for hours, work tales being swapped, gossip about old friends, former lovers. Will and Benny seem particularly interested in your romance with Joel, and you happily fill them in, telling them about the barbeque you had round Tommy and Maria’s, how you’re meeting Sarah next time she’s home from college, and how Joel will be away on a contract next week. Frankie and Santi listen in with gleaming eyes, half-smiles of their own, sharing secrets across the table that only you are privy to. It makes your stomach tighten, your panties damp.

And the way Frankie watches you, it’s like he knows.

Seats are switched throughout the night after bathroom breaks and drinks collections, but Pope always finds a way to be close to you - a hand on your thigh, a squeeze of your palm, the press of his shoulder against yours. He stacks a small pile of peanuts on the table between the two of you, hidden behind a glass, and at any opportune moment you can, you take turns flicking them at Will or Benny. With every small, yellow projectile that smacks against their chests, arms, sometimes even faces, Frankie racks up a tally on a napkin. The game is all but lost when Benny looks at up the ceiling and asks in disbelief whether it’s raining fucking peanuts, and you and Santi collapse into fits of giggles. Benny stares at you in blank confusion, furthered by Will’s growing rumble of laughter - until he finally fixes stoic Frankie with a betrayed look, noticing the tally half-hidden by his palm, and cries out an accusatory -

‘Is that you?’ Which sends Frankie over the edge, too. 

When places switch again, Will makes sure to gather you in a headlock in his strong arms and grind his knuckles roughly into your scalp. You yelp with laughter, giggling against each other, sinking into the dirty leather as Will muses on how much of a bastard you are, wondering out loud how your skills as a former bartender allowed you to outsmart ex-Delta Force operators.

Frankie watches with his usual boyish charm, his eyes crinkling at the edges, warm and molten and wanting when they meet yours. Your tongue burns with the things you want to tell him, with what you and Joel had discussed, eventually in great detail, in bed at home. But you bite the words back, knowing what is and what isn't yours to share. Instead, you lean into Santi’s touch, scraping your nails along his jeans until he shifts uncomfortably in his seat, biting his lip in a wicked grin. He excuses himself soon after, and with his departure, Benny calls for a round of pool.

He’s already slipping out of the booth before you can protest, Will following closely behind. Frankie steps out, too, rounding your side and holding out a hand for you. You accept it, stepping out in front of him so you’re pressed chest to chest. He lifts his palm to your cheek, leaning in to press a kiss to your hairline. You press his bicep in thanks before turning back to the table, hinging at your hips to grab both his drink and yours, taking extra care to subtly grind your ass into his crotch. His palm comes to rest at the top of your thigh, holding you there for just a moment, before moving to your waist. You turn back to him.  He leans in close.

‘I don’t know what you’re trying to do to us tonight, hermosa,’ he breathes into the conch of your ear, ‘But it’s working.’

You grin at him as he moves his hand from your waist to the plush flesh of your ass, squeezing gently before letting go. You take a sip from your beer, reaching up to take the cap from his curls and nestling it backwards on your own head. 

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

His answering smile is dirty, thrilling, and he follows you as if on a leash to the pool table the brothers have secured.

Santi joins you soon afterwards, his cheeks a little flushed, a fresh drink in his hand. You’re split off into the most unfair teams possible; Will, Benny, and Frankie taking one cue, and you and Pope with the other. Frankie racks up the balls with swift, deft movements, taking the cue easily in his massive hands, the wood resting between his thick fingers. You feel your body warm as you watch him, still wearing his cap, trying to squeeze your thighs together inconspicuously. You bring your cool bottle to your neck as Pope winds an arm around you, letting his hand settle at your hip, stroking and pinching the flesh there. You don’t look at him, but you sigh deeply, and he lets his head knock against yours, pleased. With Frankie shooting first, there’s no great rush to grab your cue and be prepared. 

You watch as he pots ball after ball, mouth curving in a playful scowl as he shoots you a grin after each one, moving around the table with so much grace and ease that it starts to make you a little dizzy. Benny and Will cheer him on with loud hoots and shouts, and Pope makes sure the two of you boo him like a pantomime villain with every flick of his wrist. When he finally fails to sink a shot, Pope passes you the cue, and you take your time lowering yourself to press your chest to the green felt, inhaling deeply. You’re warm, relaxed, a little buzzed, more than a little horny. You wiggle your ass a little, and Will laughs, shouting something about how your distraction technique won’t work, and he’s right. It quickly backfires when Frankie sweeps around the table, pressing one half of his body over yours as he directs you on how to hold the cue, how to position it, how to cradle it in your fingers like he does. When he’s sure you’ve got it, he breathes into your ear for you to pull your elbow back with just the right amount of leverage, and you try to ignore the goosebumps that break out along your neck and shoulder.

‘You’re ready,’ he whispers, and just as you begin to snap your wrist forwards, he presses his firm cock into your thigh.

Your quick inhale stutters your movement, and you watch as the tip of the cue just catches the edge of the ball, sending it spinning off into a barren corner of the table. You stand and spin to Frankie.

‘You asshole!’ you cry, indignant and hot, pointing a finger at him as he snatches his cap back from your head and retreats. ‘You - jogged me!’ Frankie spreads his hands in front of him, pouting, his bulge only just covered by the front of his button up.

‘I tried my best.’ He grins.

‘Don’t worry about it, kid,’ Will calls from the other side of the table, ‘Fish is known for being good with his hands. Even when he uses them for evil.’ 

The men laugh as Frankie flushes, knocking his fist into Will’s belly. Despite yourself, you laugh with them, enjoying watching him flustered as Will gasps out his laughter. Pope leans in close to whisper in your ear.

‘Good with his mouth, too.’ And all the air is sucked from your lungs as you feel your own face heat. Santi laughs louder next to you, taking the cue from your hands so you can grasp your bottle instead. You watch as Benny misfires, then Pope, still giggling at his own joke, before Frankie takes over again, sinking each one until only the white remains. Not that you notice, finding yourself now caught up in the way he bites and wets his lips, how plush they look, how they’d feel pressed to your thighs, your tits, your clit -

Benny snaps his fingers in front of your eyes, waving you back to reality.

‘Ground control to Major Loser,’ he grins, ‘Frankie whooped your ass, in case you weren't paying attention. It’s your round.’ 

You scoff playfully at him, whirling on your heel back towards the bar, but not before catching Pope’s eye again as he smirks at you, leaning against the table next to Frankie.

You flip them off as you work your way through the crowd.

When Frankie parks his truck outside Joel’s, all the lights in the house are off. 

You unbuckle your seatbelt, and Frankie eyes the front door a little warily, eyes narrowing at the distance between. You giggle at him.

‘Frankie, baby, the boogeyman is not going to get me in the space between your truck and the door.’

He frowns at you all the same before unbuckling his own seatbelt and jumping out the driver’s side. You roll your eyes at him as he bounds round the front of the truck, swinging your door open and helping you out. He grins at you.

‘I know,’ he says, ‘I know, just - let me do it. Humour me.’

He swings your hands between you as you walk up the front yard, and you try to stifle your giggles as you slot the spare key into the lock. It’s unlike Joel to not wait up for you, but you’d made sure to tucker him out before you’d left. You’re glad he’s finally getting the rest he needed. 

The door swings open in front of you into yawning darkness, and Frankie gives your hip a squeeze. 

‘You’re sure Joel’s home?’ he asks. 

‘Yeah,’ you nod, flicking the hallway light on. ‘He’s probably just asleep. It’s late, and -’

‘You probably spent the first half of the day making him see God, I suppose.’ He finishes for you. You smack his chest when you see his shit-eating grin, but aren’t able to wipe your own from your lips. 

‘Obviously.’ You smirk.

Frankie laughs quietly as you shut the front door behind him, letting his hands wander from your hip to your waist, up and down the span of your back, pulling you towards him. You can still feel him, warm and half hard against you, and a soft moan slips from your mouth in response to his small grind. He smiles again, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your skull to his chest as he rocks you back and forth, letting you feel everything while having nothing. Your own hands clutch at his shirt, shifting it higher so you can splay your palms over his bare abdomen. He looks down at you with soft, lazy eyes, and for a moment, you’re sure you’re going to kiss him. And when he leans in to whisper in your ear, you’re sure you’re going to wake Joel up and beg for him to take the two of you now. But instead, Frankie asks in a whisper -

‘Do you think Joel’d mind if I used his bathroom?’

You snort a laugh, pushing yourself away from him, and he giggles back at you.

‘Of course not,’ you say, pointing off down the hallway. ‘Just up there. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.’

He salutes as he backs away, almost knocking into the bannister of the stairs, and you have to clap your hands over your mouth to keep from laughing too loud. You step quietly into the kitchen to pour two glasses of water, but only get as far as reaching up into the cupboard when there are soft footsteps behind you. You grin, about to tease Frankie for not being able to find the bathroom on his own before warm, calloused hands are on you. Shameless, needy, groping up your top, tugging your bra down, cupping your breasts, tweaking your nipples.

Your body goes quickly liquid at the familiar touch, all smart quips dying in your throat as Joel ruts against you from behind, the weight of his hard cock hot and firm against your ass, barely disguised by his grey sweatpants. Your hands come to grip at the countertop, and you try to get the words out to tell him not now, Frankie’s here, but all that escapes is a moan. 

‘’M glad you’re home, baby,’ he growls in your ear, fingers making quick work of your button and zipper. ‘Missed you. Dreamed of you. Did ya miss me, too?’ as he tugs your jeans down to the tops of your thighs.

‘Joel -’ you breathe, but you’re too slow, unable to process anything beyond the fingers he dips into your panties. Usually you love him like this, swaddled in sleep, desperate to bury himself inside you, and you’d let him take you anywhere, but not right here, not right now. Your body continues to betray you, pulsing out more of the slick that has kept your underwear damp all night - the touches beneath the table, the pressure of Frankie’s cock against your thigh during pool, him pressed up against you in the doorway. Everything you’d done with Joel earlier in the day, the way he’d come apart with your tongue and your fingers, the way he’d eaten you to the point of tears, all coming together to show him how you glisten in the low light of the kitchen. The two of you are insatiable, and he groans against you, offering you his fingers to suckle as he pulls the waistband of your panties down to join your jeans. You try to mumble out around him again - Joel, wait - but he’s too fast as he sinks himself inside of you, and every thought, every word, is wiped from your brain. 

He sets a punishing pace from the off, and you take it easily, cheek pressed into the marble, head turned away from the door as you drool and whimper around him. The thick, heavy slide of his cock, covered in your slick, the wet sounds, the soft moans and pants that ricochet around the kitchen, and when he swirls a finger around your clit, your own sharp gasp heaves you to life.

‘Joel, wait - Frankie - Frankie’s here -’

But it’s too late, far too late, you realise, when you turn your head to the other side to find Frankie already stood in the entryway, leant against the frame like he’s been silently engaging you in casual conversation. Except he looks ravenous.

Joel groans from above you, tip kissing your cervix as he pumps in and out, fingers twitching over your clit to feel you tighten around him.

‘I know, baby,’ he groans, ‘He’s watchin’. See how he’s watchin’ you?’

It’s almost impossible to look, to watch Frankie take you in. The throb of Joel’s cock inside you, his fingers, the tightening knot that threatens to burst already, it’s making it hard to keep your eyes open.

‘That what you want, hermosa?’ Frankie asks.

You nod furiously against the marble, biting back a sob as your knees begin to give way, as you tighten, tighten, tighten, as your core locks down, your pussy growing hotter and wetter. Fuck, all that thinking, all that teasing means the build up has happened so impossibly fast, and you stumble towards the edge of the cliff already, aching for the fall.

‘Just like we said, huh?’ Joel hums. ‘You wanna be watched, don’t ya, baby girl?’ 

‘Yes - daddy -’ you choke out, and he hums again, this time speaking to Frankie.

‘Hear that? Want you to watch. Be a good boy, and watch.’ 

Frankie nods quickly, every bit the soldier; his jaw set, eyes black, curls peeking out from under his cap. In this moment, he doesn’t look like your Frankie. He looks cool, almost detached if not for the burning of his eyes. And he watches every movement, every part of your skin Joel touches, everything that is revealed to him, like he’s trying to commit it to absolute memory. The sounds, the way Joel’s cock glistens as it stretches out of you, the breath that is punched from your lungs as he pushes back in. It’s like it’s the first time he’s seen this happen.

But then, you realise, it is. 

This is the quiet, obedient Frankie who kneeled behind the door. The Frankie who didn’t move an inch, the Frankie who could do nothing but listen as the three of you fucked each other. The Frankie who curled himself over your hand as he came, hot shocks of arousal and humiliation rocking his body. And now, he gets to watch. 

But oh, how you wish he could touch. How you wish he’d come closer, away from the doorframe, how you wish he’d run his hands over your body, undress you, hold you, lick and suck and kiss you, how he could fuck your mouth as Joel fucked your tight cunt until your throat was raw, how you’d take him so deep, as deep as you could, until there would be nothing left, nothing more for you to feel or think about than what went on beyond the two men and you. You watch as his eyes rake over Joel, over you. How they track every movement, the curl of Joel’s fingers against your clit, how you gasp and choke, how Joel grits his teeth as he pounds into you, getting close now, feeling you tighten and leak and flutter around him, bunching your shirt up your back so he can press a hot kiss to your spine.

‘Give it to me,’ he groans, ‘Give it to me, baby, come on. You’ve got it, you can do it. Come for me.’

You heave a broken, high pitched whine at his words, and Frankie’s eyes snap to yours. His lips part in a breath, his only visible reaction, but it’s enough. Like the command has slipped from his lips too, your vision whitens and your back arches, fingers scrabbling against the smooth surface beneath you as you constrict so tightly around Joel you can feel the way you have to stretch again to take him in.

‘Good girl,’ he groans, ‘Such a good girl. So pretty, baby, so good. Now, tell me - tell me where you want it -’

You moan again, eyes flicking back to Frankie when they roll from the back of your skull. The thought crosses your mind, but you can’t find the words, can’t feel your legs, only the grip of Joel's fingers as he changes tack - ‘Tell me, or I’ll decide.’

You gasp out a fuck, forehead pressed against the counter, trying to decide whether you’re brave enough to say it, brave enough to ask -

‘Please -’

But it doesn’t come from you. You roll your head on the marble to find Frankie stepping slowly into the kitchen, cheeks pink, chest rising and falling quickly. 

‘I can - let me help -’ Fuck. Fuck. You try to twist to gauge Joel's reaction, but his mind is made up so quickly you only get the chance to feel desperately empty before he tells Frankie to kneel.

The younger man drops to his knees beside you m, in front of Joel, chest heaving now, tongue darting out to lick his lips nervously - and you want to kiss him. You want to kiss him so bad, but the thought is quickly whisked away as Joel steps closer, fisting his thick cock in his hand.

‘You want this?’ He grits. Frankie nods eagerly, transfixed by the man above him, eyes flicking between Joel’s and the swollen head of his cock, soaked with your slick and cum, dribbling the precursor of Joel’s own release. ‘Show me.’

Frankie’s mouth falls open instantly, his tongue sliding past his lips to welcome the tip of Joel’s cock. You moan, knees finally giving out, landing next to Frankie. He doesn’t take his eyes off Joel.

The older man gasps out a curse at the sight, before ropes of thick, milky cum spurt from his tip onto Frankie’s tongue, filling his mouth, weaker pulses landing on his chin as Joel squeezes the last of his release out. You tear your eyes from Frankie to the man above you, the way he pants, eyes aflame, jaw slack.

‘Swallow.’

You whip back round to Frankie to see his throat bob as he follows the instruction, and he opens his mouth again to show Joel that he’s done exactly as he asked.

‘Good boy,’ he drawls, swiping a thumb against his chin to collect the remnants of his spend before offering it to you. You open your mouth just as eagerly, but Joel seems to think twice. He spreads it across one cheek, and then the other, painting you, before placing the digit firmly on your tongue, allowing your tongue to lathe the taste of him from the pad. Frankie leans towards you, and then you feel his tongue, warm and wet against your cheek, licking away at the cum that Joel spread there. Joel chuckles at him.

‘Desperate for more.’ 

Frankie hums against you, tongue now flicking at the corner of your lips. Joel raises an eyebrow at you.

‘What are you waiting for, sweetheart?’ he purrs, ‘Show Frankie how well he did.’

You twist your head to Frankie’s, one hand going to the back of his head, fisting his curls, the other tracing the waistband of his jeans, eager fingers feeling the warm skin there, trying to touch further, trying to reach him. You lick into his mouth, tongue grazing his teeth as you palm him over the denim, and he moans against you. You retract your hand from his curls and start at his fly before a sharp, trilling noise makes you flinch back. His phone rings in his back pocket.

‘Ignore it, don’t worry about it,’ he says, pulling you back towards him, his mouth soft and urgent against yours, your fingers clumsy at the front of his jeans, twisting in the material, against metal, and fuck -

‘Why do you have so many fucking buttons?’

He laughs, breathy, exasperated into your hair.

‘It’s the - it’s the fucking style - there’s no zipper, it’s just buttons -’

You giggle as well, the ringing of his phone chiming off as you hear Joel say ‘just buttons?’ from behind you.

You manage to get two undone before his phone begins to ring again, and this time he breaks the kiss to drag it out off his pocket and silence it. He glances at the screen, hisses a fuck, and bites his bottom lip. You stall your movements, frowning at him.

‘You okay?’

‘One sec -’

He declines the call, but you see he’s missed messages as well. His brow pulls tighter as he reads them, and he scrubs an irritated hand over his face before looking back at you, his eyes dark, apologetic, pissed off.

‘I gotta go,’ he says, forehead knocking against yours before he’s wobbling to his feet, breathless, ‘I gotta - it’s Benny, I don’t know - I don’t know what it is, but -’ His phone pings with another text, and he breathes out a fuck’s sake. ‘I’m sorry -’

‘Hey,’ Joel says softly, and you look back up at him. He still looks as wrecked as before, but he’s straightened himself out and his gaze is softened by concern. Without looking, he holds a hand out to pull you up off the floor, and you gratefully accept, pulling up your jeans. ‘It’s okay, really, it’s okay. Don’t be sorry - what’s happened?’

Frankie relaxes, exhales.

‘Bar fight. Benny and Will were still there when we left. Looks like Benny’s managed to piss the wrong people off.’ he pauses. ‘Again.’ 

Joel chuckles, lands a hand on his shoulder.

‘Got a little brother just like it. You want us to come with?’

Frankie looks from you to Joel, and shakes his head.

‘No,’ he smiles, ‘Thanks, that’s alright. Can’t be getting distracted on my way there. Won’t be much help in jail.’

You grin at him, straightening his shirt, his curls, and he lets you fuss. You swipe your thumb at the corner of his mouth, and he flushes. 

‘Are you sure?’ You ask.

He huffs a laugh, adjusting himself through his jeans, and you pout a little at his discomfort.

‘No,’ he admits, ‘But I’ll be alright. Honestly.’

‘Okay,’ you say, ‘Okay.’

He smiles again, dipping to kiss your cheek before shyly, hesitantly doing the same to Joel. You watch the smile that blooms across the older man’s lips before you find yourself mirroring it. 

‘I’ll walk you to your truck.’ Joel says. Frankie nods gratefully, and you hum as Joel squeezes your waist before heading towards the front door. 

‘See you next time, baby.’ You murmur to Frankie.

‘Next time.’ He whispers back, grinning and turning to follow Joel. He makes it to the open doorway before you remember.

‘Frankie -’ you call, and he turns, framed by the night behind him. You make a motion at your crotch, and he cocks his head at you. ‘Buttons.’ You stage-whisper, and he laughs as he adjusts himself, refastening the two you managed to get undone.

‘See you soon, hermosa,’ he says softly, and you smile as he follows Joel out to his truck.

You can’t sleep.

You’d bored quickly of tossing and turning, Joel dead to the world beside you, and had slunk downstairs for a glass of water. There’s a niggling feeling in your chest, something left unsatisfied. Guilty that, yet again, Frankie had not been given what he deserved, guilty that you hadn’t had time to see it through. And you just want to know if he’s okay, if he’s safe. You shoot him a text, leant against the marble he had watched you get fucked over less than two hours ago. Just a quick hey, are you okay?

You bite at your thumb, tap out another one - did you get home safe? He replies almost instantly.

Hey. I did. All good. I’m great. Had a great time

Then -

Thank you

You chew your lip a while, frowning, trying to work out if you believe him or not. God, texting sucks. Maybe you should call. You should call, just to check, even though he stayed, even though he watched, even though he said yes, even with the text -

But Frankie takes the decision from you with the next message, a voicenote minutes long. You wind yourself up for whatever it could possibly be, but nothing prepares you for the breathy moan that emanates loudly from your phone, so surprised that you almost drop the device. It’s followed by another, and the slick sound of what you can only assume to be Frankie’s fist fucking his cock, filtered through his quick, hot breaths. You close your eyes in rapt attention, dropping a hand to cup your sex as you listen to him whimper, as you listen to him whisper how good it feels, how he wants you, how he can still taste Joel in his mouth, how he’s about to come, how he’s coming - 

It takes you an embarrassingly short amount of time to follow him, chest heaving against the cool marble of the counter top, legs shaky as you stand up right.

There’s not a peep from upstairs. You decide to let Joel sleep this one out.

You’ll send him the audio in the morning.

———

Work is slow, and is only sped up by being, in Joel’s words, an insufferable tease.

You’d bounded around the bedroom this morning, still secretly thrilled with the voicenote from last night, not heeding Joel’s pleas to come back to bed as he watched you don his favourite matching set, stockings, a tight little pencil skirt and blouse, before pressing a deep, lingering kiss to his mouth and floating out the door to work. You made sure to send him a pretty little picture of your dripping cunt on your lunch break, quickly followed by Frankie’s voicenote, and to your delight, receive a video of him coming hard in return.

You bite your lip, squirming at your desk, sure you’ll soak through your skirt when he sends you a follow up message soon after.

You got plans tonight?

No? You shoot back.

Good. Stay free, baby

And oh, you don’t plan on being anything but before he leaves tomorrow.

———

When you get home from work, Joel is waiting. 

Waiting conspicuously in a pressed white dress shirt and slacks, a couple buttons undone so you’re greeted with the warm sight of his chest as he opens the door. He looks… divine. And he smells just as good, too. You press your lips to his quickly.

‘You look gorgeous,’ you smile, palm against his chest, one hand on his cheek to smooth the hair of his moustache. ‘What’s the occasion?’

‘Come upstairs,’ he says, smiling. ‘I wanna show you something.’

You raise an eyebrow, all manner of possibilities flashing through your mind before you drop your bag in the hallway and take his outstretched hand.

With one hand on your hip and another over your eyes, Joel guides you towards the bed. His fingers are warm and clammy over your eyelids, and you giggle as you both stumble forwards, the shadow of a bitten laugh trickling into your ear from behind you. 

‘What are you doing?’ 

‘One more second, ‘n you’ll find out.’

Joel brings you to a gentle stop before positioning you at just the angle he wants before taking his hand away from your face. He chuckles to find your eyes still squeezed shut. 

‘Open your eyes, baby.’

You blink them open, taking a long moment to realise what it is he’s showing you.

Laid out on the bed is a beautiful short and silken black dress. 

A short breath bursts from your lips as you step forwards to take the hem delicately in your fingers. 

‘Joel…’ you whisper, accusatory. It feels like water, so luxurious beneath your fingertips that you want to scold him for buying it. But when you turn and find his eyes bright, excited, soft, the guilt dies easily in your chest. ‘It’s beautiful.’

He shrugs, trying to disguise how pleased he is with your reaction. 

You step back towards him, taking his face in your hands, pressing kisses anywhere you can. 

‘Thank you,’ you murmur, ‘Thank you, baby, thank you. You really didn’t have to, but thank you.’

He scoffs lightly against your lips, hands gripping your hips again. 

‘’Course I did,’ he grins. A dirty, secret little thing. ‘You needed something to wear for tonight.’

A worry tugs in your chest. Tonight? Have you forgotten something? Fuck - should you have bought him something, too? It can’t be the anniversary of anything, you haven’t even -

As though he’s read your thoughts, Joel pulls you closer, one hand drifting lower to palm your ass. 

‘We’re going on a date.’

‘A date?’

Mhm, he hums against your mouth. 

‘Surprise date.’

‘You bought this for a date?’

You give him your most serious look, head tilted, movements stilled. Pink flushes up from beneath his shirt collar. 

‘Yeah, darlin’. Special dress for a special girl.’

You frown a little. 

‘Where are we going where I’ll need to dress like that?’

Joel bites his lip. 

‘Nice restaurant. We’re all getting dressed up.’

‘All?’

Joel extracts himself from your fingers, moving to fix his slicked back hair.

‘Joel. All?’

He shrugs again, looks at you over his shoulder in the mirror. 

‘I had some help choosing the dress.’

Fuck. Fuck. Heat flashes between your thighs so quickly that you sit down heavily on the edge of the mattress. Joel smirks at you through the glass as you try and regulate your breathing. Your heart thrums in your chest as the thoughts clash through your head - Frankie on his knees behind the door, his wide, hungry eyes, Frankie on his knees in front of Joel, the drip of your cunt onto the floor, the full, overwhelming feeling of Joel claiming you after Santi, Santi’s fingers on your jaw, you look at your daddy when you come for me -

Joel squats down in front of you, his knees popping, two fingers lifting your chin. 

‘Need to get ready, sugar,’ he drawls, ‘Rude to keep the boys waiting.’

You suck in a hot breath, eyes glazed, body warm and fluid already. 

‘Are - are they coming back here?’

‘Not tonight,’ he murmurs. ‘Want you to myself before I head out in the morning.’

He stands as you blink up at him, a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth

‘Soon, baby,’ he reassures, ‘You’ll have us soon.’

———

Joel holds your hand as you descend the marble steps into the sunken restaurant. It’s gorgeous - classy - maybe a little too much, but you can’t find the wherewithal to care when he leads you to your table. Frankie and Santi are already seated and looking equally as handsome. They stand as you approach, Frankie flushing as he takes you in, kissing your cheek, Pope letting out a low whistle as he does the same.

You talk over glasses of wine, nibbles of bread, and your starter course; conversation often interrupted by anecdotes and jokes and observations of other patrons that definitely could have waited til later. Joel fills the boys in on the contract he’ll be away on up in Tulsa until late next week, and Pope says he will be flying back to Colombia for a few days to straighten out a couple loose ends with his last contract. You frown at him, having not been aware of this most recent development, but he’s quick to assure you that it is just that. Paperwork and documents he needs to ensure can be sealed away, picking up a couple of things from the Embassy, catching up with a couple of old colleagues, and then heading home. The boys never really talk about exactly what went down those years ago when they lost Tom, and frankly you’re not sure if you want to know. From what they have said, it was rash, greedy, and all but fucked from the start. Not something you’re particularly keen on imagining. But you’re glad that, this time, he’ll be safe and keeping away from it.

Joel and Santi share a glance over your head, and you realise you should have known. Should have known they’d be plotting and scheming.

It doesn’t take as long as it did the first time to set out the rules.

With the older men away, you and Frankie are free to spend your time as you see fit. Neither of you need to be looked after, neither of you need to be kept an eye on, but Santi and Joel phrase the opportunity to spend time together as more of a challenge. To see how you can work each other up, how well you can behave without either of them there to tell you what to do and how to do it. You’re grinning into your wine as you imagine it, all of the things you can do without actually fucking, until Joel halts your train of thought.

‘There’s one rule,’ he says. You pause mid-sip. He spears a piece of asparagus with his fork, bringing it to his mouth. ‘You can’t touch each other.’

You swallow, confused, looking across to Frankie, who is suddenly unable to meet your eye, and then to Pope, who watches the two of you with a cruelly delighted smirk.

‘We - what?’ You ask, confused.

‘Can’t touch,’ Joel says again, ‘’s your only rule. Dinner, drinks, movies, hell, sleepin’ in the same bed is fine. You just can’t touch.’ 

You stare at him. This is it. He’s lost his damn mind. 

‘Little challenge for you, baby girl,’ he says, ‘I know Frankie can do it. This one’s for you.’

You open your mouth, about to protest how that can’t possibly be fair before snapping your jaw closed again. Joel watches, amused. This is not an argument you will win.

‘Fine.’ You say, even as Santi snickers at the fact that it’s evidently not. You decide on a change of tact. ‘And myself?’ Frankie finally looks up at you, eyes wide. Your lips curl in a pleased smile as Santi takes a steadying sip of his drink.

‘You can touch yourself, darlin’’ Joel says, unfazed, ‘Never said you couldn’t do that.’

You nod, gears turning. An idea forming, one you tamp down by resting your hand on Joel’s thigh.

‘Was Benny okay last night?’ You ask Frankie, changing the subject. Your fingers begin their slow and steady stroke up and down Joel’s thigh as you watch the younger man flush.

‘Yeah,’ he nods, ‘He was only arrested for starting a bar fight -’

Your hand pauses only briefly on Joel’s thigh.

‘He was arrested?’

Frankie grins.

‘Yep. Not the first time. One day he might learn his lesson.’

You chuckle along with Joel and Santi.

‘Was he okay?’

‘Always is,’ Frankie says, ‘Lucky motherfucker. You should see the other guy.’

You smile, scraping your nails along Joel’s pants now, pleased when he shifts in his seat. He leans in close to your ear.

‘Knock it off, princess. I know exactly what you’re tryna do.’

You raise an eyebrow at him.

‘Never said I couldn’t touch you, daddy.’

You turn back to face Frankie, and he eyes you suspiciously. 

‘Don’t miss those days,’ Joel says, and Frankie’s eyes flick to him. ‘Tommy straightened out once he met Maria. Think the worst time I had to bail him out was the night’a my 36th birthday. He near caused a riot at some bar downtown. They still won't let him back in.’

‘Can imagine Tommy raining hell down on ‘em,’ Pope says, beside you. ‘He and Benny would make a hell of a team.’

Joel chuckles.

‘Sure would,’ he says, and you slide your palm over to cup him through his pants. He’s rock hard, cock twitching at your touch. But he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t falter. ‘She made him into a better man, my sister-in-law. Keeps him far outta trouble.’

His hand finds your own thigh beneath the table, squeezing as Santi begins to regale a story from his younger days with the boys. He starts the same ministrations as you, stroking, scraping, higher and higher, up to where you’re dripping, soaking yourself -

‘Joel.’ You whisper, something urgent in your voice. Why isn’t he stopping?

You’re suddenly nervous at the fact you’d decided to forego any underwear for the sake of the dress, before realising that is exactly what Joel had wanted. Like he knew you’d be running your hand up and down his thigh at the table, like he knew you’d be teasing him. Like he knew he could not only tease right back, but win the whole damn game. Smug bastard. He can read you like a book.

He leans in close to murmur into the conch of your ear.

‘Don’t start something you can’t finish, baby,’ as he pushes your dress higher to cup your sex. You clench your jaw as he chuckles underneath his breath, feeling how wet you are, how much more slick spills out at the pressure he applies. 

His fingers move up to circle your clit gently, and you let out a shaky breath. You watch him from the corner of your eye, his chin in his fist, eyes sparkling as he listens to and watches the two other men, as his movements against your cunt grow firmer, faster. You reach for your wine glass, eyes flicking to Frankie, only to find him looking at you, eyes bright with amusement. You narrow your eyes, and Joel leans in again.

‘Good girl, he says, ‘You’re gonna keep looking at Frankie, and I’m gonna make you come like this. And next time, you’re not gonna play any of your games in the middle of a restaurant.’

You grit your teeth against the whimper that fights to escape as quiet falls at the table, the conversation quickly forgotten as Frankie leans back in his chair, smirking, watching intensely. You don’t break eye contact as Santi’s hand drifts to the soft flesh of your thigh, drawing goosebumps as it nears Joel’s, as he traces the seam of your cunt, smearing the wetness around your skin. You don’t even look when Pope brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking the tips before releasing them with a lewd pop.

‘Good enough to eat.’

Your cunt throbs in response, breathing coming more laboured as Joel’s fingers work you tighter, tighter, slipping away to hook your thigh out wider, only to be replaced by Santi’s. Once he’s satisfied with your new position, he slips his hand beneath Pope’s, working the digits easily into your pussy, pumping in and out, curling to find that sweet spot within you. A small, desperate noise escapes you, and you set your glass down, your drink forgotten as you clutch at the napkin closest to you, body burning, buzzing, throbbing with pleasure. It’s too much, and it’s not enough.

You break eye contact with Frankie, holding your breath and biting your lip so hard you’re sure you’ll either pass out or draw blood.

‘No, baby,’ Joel rumbles into your hair, ‘Keep looking at Frankie. He’s gonna watch you come like this.’ You moan quietly again, meeting Frankie’s eyes, hot and close, so close.

Santi leans in so you can feel his hot breath against your cheek, goading, teasing -

‘Whenever you’re ready, sweetheart.’

Your orgasm clatters through you, the tightly bound knot bursting as you lean forward onto the table, trying to stop your body from twitching. You feel yourself tighten and clench around Joel’s fingers, feel your thighs grow wetter, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as Pope looses a quiet groan. The fire and heat of it make it almost impossible to keep quiet, a moan slipping past your lips as Joel retracts his fingers too quickly to pat you on the back in some kind of misleading gesture. Santi keeps his fingers pressed to your clit for as long as possible, letting you ride it out, before circling it again.

A gasped fuck passes your lips, and you slam your fist down onto the table, clattering the silverware and glasses. The action draws a chuckle from Santi and Joel, and sharp looks from the two tables closest to you.

You cough a little, trying to affect the pretence of choking, spluttering, anything that doesn’t look like you just came in the middle of a restaurant. 

When you haul your body back to sit upright, Joel moves his hand to your thigh, and Santi follows suit. Their fingers are wet against you, and you try not to look, try not to feel it, but it’s impossible. The slick feeling, the heat, the pressure. You could go again.

But, god, your throat is so dry.

As if on cue, the waitress appears at your shoulder to refill your water. You try to clear your throat to express your gratitude before noticing the deep red flush clawing up her neck, her gaze drawn to each hand still splayed on your thigh, dress rucked a little higher than it should be. You smile sheepishly at her, finally whisper a thank you.

When she leaves the table, you heave a deep breath, your head in your hands.

‘Almost.’ Joel whispers in your ear.

You resist the urge to flip him off, and instead decide the best way to get a hold of yourself is to head to the bathroom. Clean yourself up, splash a little cold water on your face. 

‘Excuse me,’ you murmur, voice hoarse and strained, and Frankie can’t help the smile that reaches his eyes. Looking to Joel and Santi, it appears they feel the same way. You grin despite yourself as you stand on unsteady legs, Joel’s hands shooting out to steady you as you giggle at the three of them, enjoying their favourite game.

‘Fuck you guys,’ you laugh as you turn on your heel, and they mirror your chuckles.

You’re almost to the door of the restroom when your waitress catches your eye. You try to smile at her and glide past without drawing any more attention to yourself, but fail.

‘Ma’am,’ she calls softly, stepping just in front of you. Your stomach twists. Fuck, she knows. She knows, and she’s gonna kick you all out, you’re gonna get arrested - ‘Are you alright?’

You blink at her, surprised. And then it clicks. One woman, surrounded by three men. The hands on your thighs, your dress. Three men who have been talking intently, possessively, obviously, even if they can’t be heard. You exhale.

‘Oh no, it’s - yes. Thank you for checking. That’s - really kind of you. I’m fine. We’re friends - I mean - it’s complicated - but it’s nothing to worry about.’

It’s complicated? Why the fuck did you say that? You twist your fingers as you try and work out how to extricate yourself from the hole you’ve dug, but your mind draws a blank. You pray she missed your phrasing, her eyes searching your face as you give her your warmest smile. It’s only a moment before she returns it, even brighter.

‘Oh, like a - what is it - a polyamorous thing? That’s neat. You get it, cowgirl,’ she grins, before clapping a hand over her mouth. ‘Oh my god,’ she gasps, ‘I’m so sorry, that was so unprofessional -’

You laugh, somewhat relieved, placing a gentle hand on her arm - it soothes her.

‘No, please,’ you giggle, ‘It’s fine, really.’

She peels her fingers back from her lips nervously and massages her temples.

‘I don’t know what came over me,’ she whispers, before meeting your eye again. ‘I’m sorry. But as long as you’re good. You know, taken care of.’ You watch as she cringes at herself. You reach out again to press her bicep.

‘Really, it’s fine,’ you say, glancing back to your table. You feel… warm as you look over at the three of them - relaxed, laughing. Warm at how easily you can all move back and forth in this dynamic. Warm at the feel of the slick around the tops of your legs. ‘I’m very well taken care of. And it’s really good of you to check.’

She smiles at you again as you step away towards the bathroom.

‘Oh, not at all,’ she says, bashful. ‘I’m glad. You guys have fun.’

The rest of the night passes easily, wrapped in conversation and good food. Jokes are whipped across the table so fast that the four of you cackle with laughter, the air sizzling with good humour and lightness. Joel has his hands on you whenever he can, and when you finally leave the restaurant just before closing time, Pope holds you tenderly, kisses both cheeks, and murmurs that he hopes you learned your lesson. You smack his arm and tell him to be safe in Colombia. Frankie does the same, but departs with a remark about how beautiful you looked instead - ‘especially when you come, hermosa’ he adds.

Joel makes sure you remember what he taught you at the table, taking the time to rock you through orgasm after orgasm in his bed until you’re in tears, until he’s sure the neighbours can hear you calling yes daddy, thank you daddy, I’m sorry daddy over the lawn.

He pulls you close afterwards, pressing kisses to any slither of skin he can, telling you how well you did, how proud you make him, how good you can be when you try. He only leaves to head through to the bathroom to turn on the shower, making you promise to join him when you can rouse yourself from the snuggly duvet. You don’t take much convincing.

Once you can hear him humming under the flow of water, you pad downstairs to the bag you’d left in the hallway yesterday. You root around in it before finding what you need, clutching it to your chest with a thrill before retreating back to Joel’s bedroom. You bury it in his suitcase, underneath at least a day’s worth of clothes, before stripping and joining him in the shower.

———

When you wake the next morning, Joel’s suitcase is already zipped shut, and the smell of coffee is drifting up the stairs.

You find him sat at the breakfast table, staring out into the weak morning sunshine, a steaming mug already set down for you across from him. You drift past him, a hand trailing from one shoulder, over his broad back, to the next, tracing the lines of your favourite plaid shirt, before pressing a kiss to his temple. 

You sit quietly in each other’s company, the silence slowly turning to low conversation. What route he’ll be taking, where he’ll be staying, what the job will involve, what the people are like. What your work week looks like, what the book you’re reading is about, what you’ll do with him gone. You settle your chin on your palm.

‘Any other rules I should know about?’

Joel looks back at you with amusement written all over his face.

‘No. Jus’ don’t try anything at dinner again. Or do. I’m always happy to remind you.’

You giggle, and he grins back, all white teeth and crinkly eyes.

‘You know, even the waitress asked if I was okay afterwards.’

He grunts, enough of a question in it for you to continue.

‘I mean, I don’t think she saw anything go down. But she saw me with you guys and asked if I was okay.’

Joel raises his eyebrows.

‘What do you mean?’ 

You falter.

‘I guess… you know. Me, with you guys. Just making sure nothing - weird was going on.’

‘Weird?’

‘Bad.’ You say. Joel’s eyes soften, but his brow furrows.

‘I said no, of course. That we’re all friends. I don’t know. I rambled. She asked - she asked whether it was a polyamorous thing,’ you shrug.

‘’N what did you say?’

Something about the way Joel asks the question catches you off guard. A little brusque, a little too quick off his tongue. Your eyes narrow slightly.

‘Nothing,’ you admit, ‘I didn’t want to get into the semantics of what we do with a stranger. And - I don’t know what to call it. I don’t know if that is what it is.’

‘It something you’re interested in?’

You blink at him. He’s not looking at you, his jaw set, body tense. You feel your own jaw clench.

‘Is it something you’re interested in?’

Joel chews the side of his cheek, brow knitted as he looks out to the garden into the morning sunlight.

‘I don’t know,’ he says, ‘Not really thought about it before.’

You soften at the way his body deflates. Remember this is just as fresh for him as it is for you. You nod, reach out to take his massive hand in yours. His eyes swing back to you, and you squeeze his fingers. 

‘You don’t have to think about it,’ you reassure him, ‘All of this is new. All of it. And if you want to talk about it, we’ll talk about it. But -’ you say, reaching to hold his other hand, too, ‘I want you to know none of it changes how I feel about you. You are enough for me. You will always be enough for me.’

Joel searches your face, quiet and serious. You lift his hands to your lips and press a tender kiss to his knuckles.

‘I love you.’ You say, softly.

There’s no sound through the quiet dawn of the world but a quiet intake of breath from Joel across the table. Your eyes flick up to him at the sound, to the brows slightly further up his tan forehead, his wide, surprised, brown eyes. And you realise that it’s slipped from you, aloud, for the first time. All that time spent thinking it, knowing it, feeling it, but those words in that order have been yet to pass either of your lips. In the conversations between sharing spaces, meeting families, spending time with friends, you’d forgotten to put into words what you’d assumed Joel already knew.

I love you.

You still, his hands unmoving before your lips, releasing a quiet exhale of your own.

‘I love you,’ you say again, even softer. And then, through heat rising in your chest - ‘You don’t have to say it back. If you’re not ready yet - you don’t have to ever say it back if you don’t want to -’

He grips your hands tight.

‘I love you.’ he says, gravelly and warm. And you believe him. See it in all its molten gold truth in his eyes. I love you.

You can’t help the delighted little laugh that falls from your lips. The same sound slips from Joel, and you sit, giggling and grinning at each other, in love, unaware of the minutes that tick by. You bite your lip.

‘Does that mean you’re my boyfriend now?’

Joel baulks at you, laughter frozen on his lips. Your heart squeezes, joy almost overtaken by nerves.

‘You mean - did I never ask you that?’

You shake your head slowly.

Joel sucks a breath in through his teeth. Something passes over his features; embarrassment, shame -

‘I’m sorry,’ he says lowly, a flush colouring his cheeks, ‘I’m sorry - I just - I assumed -’ he ducks his head away from you, ‘What an ass -’

You giggle at him, and he fixes you with his best puppy dog eyes.

‘Joel,’ you smile, ‘It’s okay, honestly -’

But he shakes his head.

‘No,’ he winces, ‘Sarah would be - so disappointed in me if she knew. She -’ he fixes you with an apologetic stare again, ‘She knew I loved you before you did. My God. And Tommy - Tommy would be wringing my neck, and my Momma - she raised me better than this -’

‘Joel,’ you laugh, standing from your chair to circle the table. Instinctively, he spreads his thighs for you to sit, and you settle down onto him, your legs perpendicular to his. You thread your arms around his neck, holding him close, and a warm palm comes to pet the small of your back. ‘Relax. Please don’t worry about it,’ you press a kiss to the patch in his beard, and he leans his head into you, eyes closed. ‘Besides. I kinda assumed it, too.’

His eyes open, so full of warmth, love.

‘Well,’ he says, ‘Do ya wanna be my girlfriend?’ 

You huff a laugh into his neck, resting on his shoulder.

‘Baby,’ you tease, ‘I thought you’d never ask.’

You spend a little while longer like that, curled up in his lap like a cat, sharing kisses and giggles, until Joel checks his watch and sighs. You clamber off him and follow him upstairs, leaning against the doorframe as he makes his final checks.

‘Joel,’ you call softly, hesitating. You cringe in the doorway. ‘Is it - seeing Frankie for dinner tonight, is that - is that still okay?’

He smiles and steps towards you, gathering you in his arms.

‘You know what the limits are,’ he says into your hair. ‘I trust you. ’F I didn’t want you to do something, you’d have known about it before dinner. ’Sides,’ he says, ‘You’ll look good together at that table. I’ll be thinkin’ bout it while I’m away.’

You snort and rest your forehead against his chest, breathing his scent in.

‘Just wanted to check.’ You mumble. Joel presses a kiss to your hair, rocking you side to side.

‘I love you.’ He says.

‘Love you too.’ You whisper.

Minutes later, you watch his truck peel away from the house, waving through the rays of sunlight now peeking out from the trees. He waves back, his arm out the driver’s side window, until the truck disappears from view. You swallow the lump in your throat, wash the coffee mugs, gather your clothes, and lock Joel’s front door behind you.

———

Joel calls you later in the afternoon to let you know he’s arrived safe. And Frankie texts to let you know he’s picking you up at seven.

When you get home from work, you busy yourself with a shower, with laundry you’ve held off, with tidying the house, and when you’re settled, ready, you call Joel again. Just to hear his voice, just to know he’s eaten. He chuckles a melody down the line at your fussing, but before he has to hang up, he lets slip that he misses you already, just as much. 

When seven rolls around, you feel warm, giddy, nerves fluttering in your stomach as you wait for the sound of tyres outside. 

Frankie greets you at your door, relaxed in a t-shirt that strains across his arms, his signature cap, and a beaming smile. You melt a little at the sight of him, so boyish, so bashful, so handsome, that you have to forcefully remind yourself of the rules. No touching, which must surely extend to no kissing. Still, as though he can’t help himself, he keeps a palm on the small of your back as he leads you into the small restaurant he’s chosen and plays with your fingers while you’re sat at your table.

You eat and talk, laughing and smiling like you always do. He asks about work, the projects you’re working on, and you fill him in on all the office gossip. How one of the line managers got fired last week, how Trisha from accounting is pregnant. He asks question after question until you laugh and remind him that you want to talk about him as well, and he flushes shyly. You ask about Lucia, about work, about flying again. He tells you about the places he’s been, the people he’s taken there, and one nightmare trip from last week where one woman refused to get in the helicopter, too scared to fly, until she had to be told that it was part of the proposal her boyfriend had planned. 

You order gelato for dessert and share it with two spoons, giggling as you feed it to each other. You both get a text from Santi, a selfie of him sipping a beer, looking warm and delicious. You get a text from Joel, too, a picture of him straight out of the shower which sets your cunt throbbing, hoping you’re having a good night.

Frankie insists on settling the check and walks you back to his truck with a warm palm still on your skin. He opens the door for you, waiting for you to settle in your seat before he shuts it and crosses to the driver’s side.

He drives you to a spot overlooking the city, and you stay in the cab, seatbelts unbuckled, turned towards each other, swapping stories like teenagers at a sleepover. You try not to think too hard as the night settles in around you. Try not to watch his hands, his thick fingers, the way his arms bunch and flex, how strong his thighs look, how good he smells. But it’s so hard, so hard when he’s right across from you, smiling, eyes trailing over your body, getting caught on your lips, watching the way your limbs are draped in his truck. The way he’s looking at you makes it hard to remember the rules, hard to resist leaning over the console and pressing your mouth to his, especially when he lowly confesses how badly he wants to kiss you.

You huff a breathless laugh, looking away from him out to the shimmering skyline outside the window screen. Try to distract yourself with how the distant lights of the city shimmer like moonlight on water, how the structures of the skyscrapers reach up to the night flights swooping over the horizon. Something as far away from your body as possible, so you don’t have to think about Frankie’s warm, broad chest, what he would sound like moaning against you. 

‘I wish you would,’ You whisper. When you turn back to look at Frankie, he is already watching you. Pressed against the driver’s side door, mouth slightly open, his eyes sparkling and dark. ‘You could kiss me.’

His mouth closes with a gentle snap of his teeth, and he shakes his head.

‘You know I can’t do that.’

You nod, eyes finding the skyline again.

‘I know. But I still wish you would.’

In the silence that follows, you can feel slick drooling and cooling from your cunt, soaking your panties. You shift in your seat, unsure whether you’re trying to ignore or resolve the discomfort. Frankie watches you still, and when you wriggle again, his own hips shift. You fix him with a stare, the air hot and thick between you. You curve your body towards him, one hand coming down gently to hold yourself over the console.

‘They wouldn’t know. If we kissed.’

Frankie continues to stare as you remain frozen, poised before him.

‘I know.’

‘Then let me kiss you.’

‘No, hermosa.’

You look back and forth between his eyes and his lips, watching his throat bob as he tries to keep his distance.

You slump backwards a little, trying not to feel any kind of acute rejection. You’re just hot, bothered, unbearably aroused in the cabin of his truck. His refusing to kiss you isn’t a mark on his desire, just his self control. Muscle memory of years of following instructions. Frankie turns his body, facing forward out the windscreen in his seat. He swipes his palms over the steering wheel, and your lips part, cunt burning when you imagine those hands on you again, huge palms sweeping down your curves, your thighs, up between your legs -

‘I’m not gonna kiss you, because then I’ll need to fuck you.’

Your gasp zips past your lips before you can stop it. Frankie keeps his eyes trained forwards as you stare at him. Your pussy clenches around nothing, needing something to sate it, a touch, a glance, anything -

‘Frankie -’

He shakes his head, grip tightening on the wheel.

‘Please, Frankie, I’ll be so good -’

‘Enough.’

You watch his nostrils flare, watch a muscle in his jaw tick. Watch a certain darkness sweep over his features, and you know, you know you’ve won.

He never stood a chance.

‘Tell me,’ you whisper, and he shakes his head, skull pressed into the headrest, hands white-knuckling the steering wheel. ‘I want you to tell me. Tell me how you’d fuck me.’

Frankie closes his eyes slowly, his shoulders tensing, breath faltering. 

‘No,’ he whispers, ‘No, baby, I can’t do that -’

You whine, hands scrubbing down your bare thighs, trying to find something to grip, to hold, something that’s not him -

‘God - it aches, Frankie,’ you whine, wriggling in the seat, and his eyes flick back and forth over you; your pathetic attempts to grind into something, the heaving of your chest, the wild, desperate look in your eyes.

‘What, baby? What aches?’ He breathes, and he’s tilting forwards towards the centre console like he could pounce on you, like he could hold your hands in a tight, binding grip behind your back, like he could eat you here, devour you here -

You whimper by way of an answer, hands finally resting on the hem of your skirt, pushing it up, up to rest at your hips. Frankie watches, eyes molten and black as you cup yourself, as you grind against your hand. He moans loudly at the sight.

‘There, hermosa?’

You shudder out a sigh, a hissed yes as you apply more pressure. His throat bobs as he considers, as he weighs his options.

‘Please, Frankie -’ you beg, though you’re not sure what for. Rules, rules, but none of them seem to make sense anymore, none of them seem to matter as you lick your own lips at his growing bulge in his jeans. He breathes in harshly, swiping a palm across his mouth before he fixes you with a look that makes you feel dizzy. He swallows thickly.

‘Show me.’

It's easy, so easy. You lift your hips from the seat and slide your thumbs under the waistband of your panties, pulling them down, down, watching him the whole time. He waits like he’s forgotten how to breathe, this starving, tortured look in his eyes like he’s dying of thirst and water is just out of reach. You spread your legs for him and dip your fingers to your slit, gathering the slickness there before trailing the digits further up, spreading yourself in a v shape so he can see everything, see how you throb, how your clit twitches, how you leak down into the cleft of your ass. 

‘Need you, Frankie,’ you whine, ‘Need you to -’

He lurches back like he’s been shocked.

‘Don’t,’ he grits, ‘Don’t, you know I can’t touch you -’

‘Then watch,’ you breathe, ‘He said don’t touch. But you can watch. I can watch.’

‘Watch?’ he repeats, breathless, body shifting, open, and you nod, rutting against your palm. 

‘Yeah,’ you murmur, ‘Frankie, baby, let me watch you. Need to see you.’

He stares at you, something working behind his eyes.

‘Watch,’ he says again, nodding, ‘Yeah, please baby, is that okay? Can I watch?’

You nod, relishing in the control that he shifts so easily to you. You trace the swollen lips of your pussy, spreading the glistening wetness so it catches every stream of moonlight bruising through the window. 

‘You, too. Wanna watch you, too.’

He nods quickly, mouth agape, unable to tear his eyes away from your core. He palms himself roughly over his jeans.

You trace your fingers back over your clit, swiping it in circles until your head falls back against the window, your brows pulling together as you loose a quiet cry. You bite your lip, looking down your nose at him.

‘Is it good?’ he gasps, ‘Please - tell me - how does it feel?’

‘Good,’ you moan, ‘So fucking good, Frankie.’

He groans, his hands finding his button and zipper, undoing them before shifting his hips to pull his jeans down. He reaches inside his boxers to pull himself free, swollen and leaking. 

He’s thick, and just as big as you knew he would be - but he’s so pretty as well. The same tan as his skin, pink flush at his tip, skin silken, blue veins just hidden beneath the surface.  You moan, wanton and crooning, sinking a finger into yourself as he grips his base, squeezing at the sight of your digit disappearing up to the knuckle. 

Your hips lift as he begins to fuck himself slowly with his fist, lips wet and eyes blown, his other hand coming away from scratching at the denim of his thigh to cup his balls. You go slow for him as he watches, working your bud in agonisingly steady circles, pumping your finger in and out gently until you remove it completely, Frankie’s eyes drawn to the strand of slick suspended from your finger. He moans, a sick, feral sound, his head falling back against the seat to expose the straining muscles in his neck, the sweat that glimmers in the hollows before his clavicles. He jerks himself faster, tighter - tip ruddy now, beading with precum that he swipes down the length of his shaft, slick enough for you to imagine that it’s your spit, your wetness. A surge of arousal floods your fingers again, and you whimper.

‘Look at you, Frankie. So pretty.’

Frankie answers with his own choked moan as he watches you sink your finger into your heat again, but this time he grits his teeth, inhaling sharply before endowing you with an instruction -

‘Give yourself more, hermosa. Another. Know you need it, baby.’

You comply, sinking in another finger easily, rocking your hips back and forth, the sound of it obscene, loud in the quiet around you, and Frankie squeezes himself, breathless.

‘Fuck, hermosa, you’re so wet - so wet. Does that feel good?’

You nod frantically, speeding up your movements until Frankie matches your rhythm, his body tense, his tip turning a beautiful shade of crimson. You whimper again. This soft, sweet man, reduced to this savage across from you, fisting himself, reeling himself back from the edge just to wait to come with you. 

You watch as his eyes drop to your cunt again, as a grunt wrenches itself from his chest, and he begs you - more, please, hermosa. You oblige, sliding another of your fingers into your dripping cunt just to catch a glimmer of what he’d feel like inside of you. Your orgasm flexes, tight and searing inside of you, and you whine.

‘Close, so close, Frankie -’ you pant, and his eyes widen, fist working so furiously you wonder whether it hurts, whether he likes it like that. He groans deep in his throat.

‘Make yourself come, baby, please make yourself come. I need to watch you come.’ And you obey, seizing, pussy gripping your fingers, body curling in on itself as you come, teeth clenched to bite back your scream. Frankie falls slack in his seat, eyes glazed as his cock jerks in his grip, and you meet his eyes, gasping out -

‘Frankie - want you to come, come for me, baby boy -’ and he erupts over his hands, over the tops of his thighs and his belly with a whine, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. You watch his spend trickle over his knuckles, saliva pooling in your mouth at the sight, and your fingers twitch as you pull them from inside you. You are so close to reaching out and taking it on your own fingertips to swipe against your lips, and it’s like Frankie reads your mind -

‘I want to taste you. So fucking bad.’ he gasps, gaze fixed on your shining fingers. You bring them to your mouth, tongue sweeping between the digits, beneath your nails, moaning at your own salty sweet taste. Frankie groans again, tugging his spent cock weakly if only to stop himself from reaching out to snatch your wrist to him.

‘I promise,’ you murmur between licks, ‘I promise - soon, baby - God, so soon -’

You suck your middle finger into your mouth, keeping your eyes locked with his, before releasing it with a lewd pop. Frankie looks physically pained.

‘Stop,’ he pants, ‘Just - stop. I need you to stop.’

You understand, whole body still at fever pitch despite your release. Your hands fall to your thighs. Frankie tucks himself back into his boxers and lifts his hips to fix his jeans before popping open the driver’s side door.

‘Just - give me a moment.’ He murmurs as he jumps out, leaving the door open behind him. You watch as he walks circles in the dirt beside the car, his hands on the back of his head, breathing like he’s run a marathon. It takes a minute for your own brain to catch up with you. You tug your panties back up and your skirt down, some kind of horrible anxiety, disappointment and desperation clawing up your throat. You swallow and pop your own door open, rounding the truck to find Frankie.

The air has done him good. His eyes are clearer, body more relaxed, and he watches you approach with an expression that softens at every step. He barely gets out a you oka- before you rush to him with open arms, crashing into his chest with a quiet mmph. Frankie wraps his arms around you just as quickly, rocking the two of you back and forth, swooping a palm down your back.

‘I’m sorry.’ You whisper. Frankie stops his swaying, gives your shoulder a little squeeze.

‘Why are you apologising, princesa?’ he asks, so sweet you have to swallow again before answering.

‘I don’t know,’ you murmur, ‘That was supposed to feel good, but I don’t - I don’t know how I feel -’

He holds you tighter as tears threaten in your eyes, and you will yourself not to blink, lest they fall.

‘S’okay,’ he whispers back, ‘Might be ‘cause you want it so bad,’ you feel the rumble of a chuckle ripple through his chest. ‘That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, and I still feel like I could rip my skin off.’

A sharp laugh bubbles out of your mouth, taking you by surprise. You blink and the tears begin to fall, and you laugh harder. The man might be right.

‘This is so weird,’ you chuckle against his chest, ‘I’ve never been so horny I’ve cried before.’

He laughs, pressing a sweet kiss to your head.

‘It’s okay,’ he says, ‘And it’s not weird. Feels like my brain will never work the same again.’

You laugh harder, sniffing as you pull away from him. He grins down at you, pinches your chin lightly between his thumb and forefinger.

‘Home?’ he asks.

‘Yeah, Frankie,’ you smile, ‘Take me home.’

Frankie holds your hand over the centre console the whole way home. You’re too tired to think about the semantics of rules, too overwhelmed to wonder what Joel or Santi would say. You grant yourself a small mercy in the passenger seat, reminding yourself that this is okay. This is aftercare. It’s necessary, Joel grumbles in your ear, it doesn’t come with rules.

When Frankie pulls up outside your place, he hops out to make sure he can the truck door for you and help you down. He walks you to your front door like he’d done so many moons ago, ever the gentleman, and waits until the door is unlocked and you’ve flicked the hallway light on. 

You turn to face him, wrapping yourself around him again. He returns the hug.

‘Will you call me if you need anything?’

‘Yeah,’ you breathe, ‘Will you?’

‘’course,’ he swipes the back of his hand over your cheek, and dips to press a soft, firm kiss to your forehead. ‘See you tomorrow, baby.’ He says. You pinch his cheek as he pulls away, chuckling as he bounds back down the path.

You watch his truck peel away like a teenager, standing in the doorway smiling to yourself until his tail lights disappear around the corner.

———

When Joel calls not fifteen minutes later, you’re wearing one of his shirts, grinding your bare pussy into your pillow, fingers working steadily against your clit.

You fumble with your phone, taking longer than usual to swipe to answer the call, and if that hadn’t have given you away, your pants and whimpers do. Joel chuckles warmly down the line at you.

At his ‘how you doing, baby girl?’, your mouth curves in a shy smile, and a heat blossoms in your chest. Your ‘good, daddy’ is true, a kind of peace settling over your frazzled body and mind. You let out a cooing moan before you can ask how his day’s been, and his breath catches down the line.

‘And what are you doing, baby girl?’ he asks softly, so soft, and you smile even wider.

‘Thinkin’ bout you, daddy.’ You breathe, and he hums at your words.

‘Just me?’

‘Mostly.’ You confess, and he chuckles, a honeyed sound.

‘Mostly,’ he echoes, ‘And what are you using while you’re thinking about me, baby?’

You give a strong roll of your hips, grinding down as you answer him.

‘A pillow, daddy.’

‘Mhm. Just a pillow?’

You whine.

‘Fingers, too.’

‘Greedy fuckin’ girl,’ he chuckles. You moan loudly, and are rewarded with a low grunt in return. He listens to you breathe for a moment before you hear the crackle of him shifting, moving.

‘Stop now,’ he says, gently. ‘Need to ask you somethin’.’

You pull your fingers out of your cunt, whining as you do. You can picture his smirk so clearly that you tell him to knock it off.

‘Sorry baby.’ He apologises, so disingenuous. 

‘What’s the question?’

‘I found something. In my case,’ he says. ‘Don’t suppose you’d know who put it there?’

You bite your lip.

‘Hmmm. Depends. What is it?’

You hear Joel fumble with something before he speaks again.

‘Let’s see. One of ‘em… pocket pussy things.’

‘Huh. No idea. Must have been your other girlfriend.’

He laughs.

‘Motherfucker. You damn well I can’t handle another one of you.’

You grin at your reflection. If you had a cord phone, you’d be twirling the plastic around your finger right now. Girlfriend.

‘My bad. Must have been me, then.’

‘Causing trouble even from all the way over there, huh, angel?’

You roll your eyes, knowing he’s drawing it out.

‘Sure, daddy,’ you coo. There’s a beat. ‘Have you… tried it?’

He huffs, and you can see the frown in your mind. How you’d smooth your fingers over it.

‘Ain’t need it when I’ve got you.’

‘Even when you’re far away?’

There’s a pause as Joel considers his reply.

‘You feelin’ sorry for me or somethin’?’

You sigh, letting your fingers dip to your clit. He won’t know, so long as you’re quiet.

‘Couldn’t just - leave you out, daddy,’ you huff against the phone. 

A low chuckle rumbles through from the other end, and you bite your lip.

‘So this is - what? My consolation prize?’ 

‘No,’ you frown, ‘It’s better than that. Better than your hand.’

‘Better ‘n my hand?’

‘Yeah, daddy.’

‘Is it better than you, babygirl?’

You roll your hips at his question, biting back a whine.

‘No, daddy.’

He hums down the line.

‘Sounds like a consolation prize to me, honey.’

You sigh again, louder this time.

‘’S not a consolation prize,’ you groan. ‘Frankie isn’t even allowed to touch me.’

Joel chuckles at you properly this time.

‘You sound disappointed, baby.’

‘I am.’

He waits. He waits, because he knows. Of course he knows.

‘We watched each other, daddy,’ you breathe. Confessional, dirty. A heat flushes up your cheeks as you tug at your t-shirt, suddenly nervous.

‘Watched?’ he asks, a smile curling the word.

Mmhm.

‘Well done, baby,’ he says, ‘I’m impressed. Though a little disappointed it didn’t take you longer to figure out.’

You giggle, and he puffs out a breath before continuing.

‘Santi told me it wouldn't be so fast. Thought it’d take you guys a little while to -’

‘He thought it’d take Frankie longer to work out,’ you interject. Joel falls silent. ‘He knows Frankie, but not me so well. You should’ve known better.’ 

Joel laughs again.

‘You’re goddamn right, angel.’ 

You smile, smug. Hum in agreement.

Joel sighs.

‘Too eager for your own goddamn good,’ he murmurs, ‘Bet you can’t wait to know what his cock feels like inside you, huh? Can’t wait to be droolin’ and comin’ over him like you do me, hm?’

God, his mouth. You moan openly, rocking your hips again, ready. Ready to hear him moaning, too, ready to hear the slick sound of the toy on his dick, ready to hear him groaning your name as he comes.

‘Yes, daddy.’

Joel hums, pleased. His breathing comes a little ragged this time, making your core hotter, tighter, wetter.

‘Use it,’ you moan, ‘Please, daddy. Wanna hear you use it.’

‘I’ll use it,’ he grunts, ‘But you ain’t gonna touch yourself. Just gonna have to listen, sweetheart.’

‘Please -’ you whine, but he cuts you off with a harsh tut.

‘No. You’re gonna be good, you’re gonna listen to me first.’

You begin to groan out again but he says your name in such a tone that you feel your body shift into submission, acquiescing to his demand.

‘You’re gonna stay still,’ he tells you, ‘And you’re gonna leave that pretty pussy alone until I’m done, y’hear?’ Your eyes half close, head dipping forward.

‘Yes, daddy.’ 

‘Good girl.’

You listen closely to the pop of the cap on the bottle of lube you’d packed for him, his heavy breathing as you imagine him soaking the toy, his sharp inhale as he spreads the cool gel over himself. The pop sounds again, and you wait with baited breath.

You’re rewarded almost immediately with a groan that resonates right through your body, vibrating straight down to your cunt as though he had voiced it against your lips.

‘Gonna start with my hand, baby,’ he says, voice low and breathy, ‘Start nice and slow, just like you would if you were here, huh?’

You hum low in your throat and lick your lips.

‘Wouldn’t start like that, daddy.’ Your voice is husky, drenched in lust at the thought of Joel spread on the hotel bed stroking his cock.

‘Oh?’

‘Start with my mouth,’ you breathe, ‘I’d lick you. Get you nice and wet so I can suck on it.’

‘Yeah?’ he whispers, ‘That what you’d do, you’d suck on it?’

You ache and throb between your legs, your free hand scratching at the skin of your thigh to distract yourself. Your mouth waters at the thought.

‘Mhm, daddy. Nice and deep, how you like it. You could fuck my throat if you wanted to.’

A low, guttural sound answers you, the slick sounds of his moving fist getting faster.

‘I’d want you to hold me still while I take you, daddy. I’d want to dribble and gag and cry.’

Joel huffs.

‘Would you, baby? You’d be such a good girl for me?’

You nod, lip between your teeth, even though he can’t see you.

‘Yeah, daddy.’

‘And what if daddy wants to fuck your tight little pussy, baby girl? What would you do then?’

You moan, eyes fluttering shut, hips shifting of their own accord. You grip the hem of your t-shirt.

‘I’d let you.’ you answer, helplessly.

Joel chuckles darkly. 

‘Want me to tell you what I’d do?’ He asks, and you loose a pained little sound, brows pulling together. You’re sure you’re soaking the pillow at this point, dripping through to the other side. Joel laughs again. ‘I think I’d tie you up, baby,’ he says, so low, so deep, that the world starts to drift away from you. You’re barely aware of the fact that the noise of his hand has stopped until he moans wantonly into the phone, and your eyes fly open. ‘Fuck,’ he grits, and then he huffs a cruel little laugh. ‘Was gonna tell you how I’d tie you up and fuck you, baby,’ he growls, ‘But this toy feels good ‘nough that I might just make you watch me instead.’

You whine, chin tipped up to the ceiling, hushed little cries of no, daddy, please - falling from your lips.

‘Oh, sweetheart. You don’t like the sound ‘a that?’ he asks. You shake your head, mewling, ‘No, ‘course not,’ he murmurs ‘Just wanna be stuffed full ‘a daddy’s cock, huh? Wanna be creamin’ around it way you love to, all stretched out and used, yeah?’

God, yes you do. You moan breathlessly, cunt twitching and throbbing, and you wonder whether this is enough to just come hands free. If you concentrate hard enough, if you bear down enough -

‘Maybe I’d film it,’ he muses, ‘Film it so Santiago and Francisco could watch. See how you really like to be used, how cock dumb I can make you. Would you like that, angel?’

‘Fuck, daddy, yes -’

‘Mmm. So they can see how good you look when you beg, when you’re dripping with my cum, huh, baby girl? See how good you look when you cry, when you just take it for me?’

You can tell he’s getting closer, his breathing heavier and more ragged, longer pauses between his thoughts. You wriggle on the pillow, feeling yourself flutter around nothing at the pathetic stimulation. He moans again, broken and loud, and you puff against the speaker, seeing your opportunity -

‘Come for me, daddy,’ you pant, ‘Please - come for me. Need to hear you daddy, please -’

Joel’s breath catches raggedly, once, twice, before it cuts off with a deep growl. With every resounding moan you hear, you can imagine the spurts of cum bursting from his tip. You wriggle even more, cunt burning. 

‘Atta girl,’ Joel gasps, ‘Atta girl, helping your daddy out.’

‘Please,’ you moan, breathless, ‘Please, daddy, my turn, is it -’

‘Your turn,’ he says, so warm, so sweet, ‘Go ahead, baby. Long as it’s only yourself you’re touchin’.’ 

Your fingers flutter to your clit, swiping it gently, so sensitive, and you grit your teeth.

‘Only me.’ You repeat, and you can picture Joel’s answering smile. All teeth.

‘Just you, baby girl. No touchin’ no one else. Not even Frankie.’

You stay silent, moving your hips now to drag your soaked folds against the pillow. Your head falls to your shoulder, and you moan long and loud, wondering whether you can convince Frankie, whether you’ve got enough time together to film the two of you - watching each other, then Frankie stretching you out, filling you with his cum. Something you could send to Joel and Santi, a little treat, a little teaser. 

You’ve been quiet for too long. And Joel knows. He always knows.

‘You gonna break the rules, baby girl?’ He coos. 

You smile, as though he’s read your mind.

‘How much trouble will I be in if I do?’ You ask through a moan, biting your lip.

He chuckles down the line at you. 

‘I don’t know, sugar,’ he drawls, ‘But you could always find out.’

The line clicks and beeps as he hangs up, and you stare down at your phone in disbelief. The signal must have dropped. 

Just as you fumble to press the call button again, a text flies through.

Night, babygirl x

And then another - 

Try to be good. I know it’s hard for you

You huff a laugh as you drop the phone into your lap, hips curling again over the pillow beneath you. Sonofabitch. 

You’ll behave as badly as you damn well please.

———

You and Frankie make quick work of dinner the next evening. Your hands are clammy at the dinner table, pulse fast in your neck, a flush passing high over Frankie’s collar the whole time.

He makes even faster work of the drive back to yours, scraping through red lights as you pull your skirt higher, as you skate your fingers over your thighs, over your panties, watching him the whole time. There’s a wonderful thrill when you catch him looking, when his eyes meet yours and then drift to your hands, how dark they are in the passing streetlights, the white-knuckle grip of his hands on the wheel.

You can feel the heat of him behind you as you unlock the front door, the hunger of wanting his hands on you, pushing you through the doorway, the press of his chest against your back. But you can wait. You can be good.

You move through to your kitchen with him trailing behind you, and you’re grabbing two beers from your fridge before the question of do you want a drink? is even out. When you turn to face him again, Frankie is dangerously, dangerously close. You can smell the musk of his skin, see every changing fleck of colour in his eyes, and it’s too much. You’re pressing the bottle into his chest at the same time as you’re tipping your head for a kiss, eyelids fluttering closed. He takes both bottles from your hands and places then somewhere behind you before caging you in with his thick arms, his mouth in a tight, serious line. You arch your back subconsciously, but he seems to anticipate every movement of your body; somehow still always millimetres away, like the ghost of a man pressed up against you, a layer of film between you.

He leans in so close that you can taste the hot breath he’s pouring into your mouth, so close you can feel the air moving when he tells you, so softly -

‘Take your clothes off. And sit on the couch.’

You strip yourself as you watch him do the same, eyes blown wide by every stretch of bare skin that’s revealed to you. And it is not fair. So unfair that Frankie is finally naked in front of you - so gorgeous - long-limbed and tan, beautiful cock hard and heavy between his thick thighs - and you are unable to touch him.

You clench your jaw, sat back and stretched out like a cat at one end of the sofa, petting yourself as you watch him come towards you and lower himself onto the cushion next to you. 

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to fall back into the rhythm you found last night. It’s hypnotic. The movements, the sounds, the words. Watching Frankie is heady, intoxicating. It feels like you’re watching something happen outside of your own body, and you find yourself surprised as you move to kneel beside him, as you swing a leg over his legs so you’re straddling him. You’re so wet, so warm that you’re sure the night could pass for a summer’s day. Your skin is glimmering with sweat, same as Frankie’s. You search his eyes to find him staring back at you, just as fucked out, just as woozy. You moan, hot little pants dripping past your lips. He echoes you.

You sit back on his thighs, your fingers diving in and out of you as you watch his fist work furiously around his cock. Something warm and hot, greedy and possessive swells inside of you. He looks delicious like this, spread out in front of you, wanting and needy. His cock thick, swollen, dribbling. It twitches as you watch him, and you moan somewhere beyond your consciousness. Need, your body whispers. Need. You inch forwards, lifting your hips higher, higher, Frankie watching you like he’s somewhere outside his body. You take his hand from his cock, fingers slippery with his precum, and place it at your hip. You grind into your hand at the slick feeling, pulling your fingers out with a wet sound and hovering above him, gripping his cock so you can brush the swollen head of it against your clit. Frankie shudders, his body going slack, and you almost come from the sensation alone. You lower your hips just a little, bracing the mushroom of his tip at the tight ring of your entrance. 

You gonna break the rules, babygirl?

‘Hermosa -’ he breathes, suddenly unsure.

You huff against him, everything too tight, too heady. Need.

‘Shhh, it’s okay,’ you whisper. ‘It’s okay, just a little bit. Just wanna feel you a little bit.’

‘But -’ he’s cut off by his own loud whine, unable to protest as you fit his head just inside your pussy. You throb around him, at the stimulation it brings. You clutch at his shoulder, head falling forwards at the stretch. Fuck, you could absolutely come like this. You need him deeper, need him to to fill you, but -

Oh, he is so good. 

His hands are like steel at your hips, keeping you in place. Frankie doesn’t want to disobey, doesn’t want to get in trouble. His grip speaks to that, his wide eyes, the sweat at his temple. But you can see on his face as you drip down him, the clutch of Joel’s control doesn’t hold nearly enough power when faced with what he truly wants.

You move back and forth a little, still with his tip just inside, moaning brokenly at the feel of it, and his eyelids flutter closed as something like a prayer brushes past his lips.

Frankie is good, but you are so, so bad. 

You drop your hips down further, and his fingers flex against your skin as he gasps, a high, keening noise reverberating from his chest.

‘Jesus Christ -’ he groans.

‘Fucking - hell, Frankie -’

He’s a lot. You can feel yourself adjusting as you slide down his length, your promise quickly forgotten. Greedy fuckin’ girl. But you can’t help yourself, brain short circuiting, body molten as you take him in inch by inch. It’s too much, all consuming. There’s no space for another thought, any more consideration as he fills you, as you take what you need. 

He whimpers as you bottom out, grinding against the curls at his base, breathing heavily.

‘So good,’ you whisper, ‘So good, you know that?’

Your head hangs forward against his shoulder as you gulp down air, as you feel yourself clench and leak around him, as he twitches inside you. After moments in almost silence, you lean back to look down at him.

His eyes are glassy, fucked out as he looks back at you.

You lift your hips, and the moan he lets out is pained. Your skin is on fire, and you want his hands everywhere.

‘Frankie, touch me.’

‘I can’t -’

‘You can,’ you grit, ‘You can, because I told you to.’

He moans again, and suddenly he’s everywhere. He knows where you need to be touched like you’ve done this before, his fingertips scorching and cooling as he strokes your thighs, your neck, as he grips your ass. Encouraged, you continue to move, slowly rocking up and down on his cock, breathing raggedly. Every noise that escapes the two of you seems to come without being registered, something primal, starved. Already, the coil is tightening, your body racing towards where it needs to be, and you know it will be intense, all-consuming to come around him, so thick inside of you. You lean further forwards, and he takes the opportunity to press his mouth to your sternum, licking the skin before turning his head to take a nipple in his mouth - hot and wet and sucking, lathing it with his tongue.

‘Fuck,’ you hiss, moving faster, chasing, chasing what is so close. You grip the hair at the back of his head, tugging and keeping him close to your breast, keening against him.

‘Like that,’ you gasp, ‘Yeah, like that baby, god, so good, you’re so good for me, feel so good baby boy, you have no idea -’

You can feel yourself tighten and tighten, and Frankie holds you harder, force that feels so delicious you don’t even care about the hurt, not until it turns to iron, not until he rips his mouth away from you -

‘I’m gonna come -’ he whimpers, gripping your hips so tight you couldn’t move if you wanted to. ‘Please, baby, please - stop - I can’t - I’ll come -’

Hot desperation claws up your chest. You are so close, so close, but he looks so wildly at you that you stop trying to move, try to force back tears of frustration as you lean forwards to kiss him as sweetly as you can. Spit-slick and swollen, you pull back and rest your forehead to his. Try to think straight, tell him what he needs to hear.

‘No you won’t,’ you coo, taking his face in your hands, thumbs stroking his cheekbones. You put everything into your gaze, all your warmth, all your care for him, try to make him see how good this is. He stares up at you, eyes wide, dark. Panicked. Panicked at the thought of disappointing you. ‘You won’t, Frankie. It’s okay, you’re not gonna come.’ You try to shift a little so you can settle on your thighs to soothe him, but he clenches his eyes shut at your movement and whimpers louder, his mouth screwing up. 

‘Please don’t move,’ he whispers, ‘Just wait, - just -’

You lean forward and press a kiss to his hairline, feeling his tip move slowly to a shallower part of you. Fuck.

‘Relax, baby boy,’ you murmur, and he sucks in a breath. ‘Concentrate. I’m gonna sit down, and you are not going to come, okay?’

You wait, but Frankie still has his eyes screwed shut, nostrils flaring, fingers bruising against your skin. The tense feeling in your chest swells again. 

‘Frankie.’ You say sharply, and he jumps out of himself, eyes flashing open to yours. ‘I’m gonna sit back down. Take a deep breath.’

Frankie watches you as he breathes in through his nose, and you move at the sound of his airflow. His hands slacken at your hips, and he moans, low and long. 

‘That’s it,’ you say, sinking all the way down, writhing helplessly at his base. You’re already both so close. ‘Good boy. How are you doing?’

Frankie breathes shallowly as you adjust around his cock. His cheeks are red, hair sweaty. His lips are bitten, bleeding through one crack of skin, eyes almost entirely black. You scratch at the curls at the nape of his neck, massaging the tendons there.

‘Okay,’ he croaks. You try not to think of how he feels inside you. How full you feel, how stretched out. He’s thick and nestled in deep - not as far as Joel - but the ache you feel around his girth is delicious. Fuck, this was a bad idea. You should have just hopped off him, let him slide out so you could both catch your breath. And now, instead, you’re managing to edge the two of you even further. 

You know you can’t last long, and you know, from the desperate look on Frankie’s face, that he won’t either, no matter what you do. It feels crueller to stop now than it does to keep going, to watch him deny himself like this, to feel you deny yourself, too. You can feel your pussy tightening and leaking around him at the thought, the ache, the need that’s just there -

‘I have to move, baby -’

‘No -’ he chokes, ‘Please, hermosa, just a minute -’

‘I have to, Frankie, I - you feel too good, baby, I need to move. Wanna come, wanna see you come, too -’

Frankie’s iron grip returns to your hips as they lift of their own accord, and he hisses, head bowed, at the movement. You moan hoarsely.

‘It’s okay,’ you pant, gripping his chin in one hand, lifting his face to yours. ‘Listen to me, it’s okay. Focus now.’ You begin to move up and down him again, the slow drag of his cock tightening your grip on his face but loosening the hold you have on your body. You whimper, pussy fluttering around him. Frankie groans, breathlessly whispers your name, a pleasepleaseplease -

‘I know you can last as long as I need you to, baby,’ you whisper. ‘You’ve done it before, haven’t you?’ Frankie whines, his eyes rolling back, mouth falling slightly open. You can’t stop the moan that bubbles up your throat - him edging himself as he watched you the night before, eyes stuck on your fingers, your pulses, your wetness. You feel him throb inside you as he nods drunkenly. ‘That’s it, good boy. I know it feels good, but you can last a little longer. I know you can, Frankie. You’re doing so well.’

His fingers clutch at the swell of your hips, weak, sweaty, and you clench so hard around him that it’s a challenge to drag his cock through your walls. You breathe shallowly, slowing the pace again, and Frankie watches you through heavy lidded eyes. He licks his bottom lip.

‘Come,’ he breathes, a hand leaving your hip so he can thumb your clit. You hiss, hips stuttering so hard you sink all the way down onto him, grinding his tip into your womb. Frankie grits his teeth. ‘Come, hermosa,’ he tells you again, and you can feel the savage heat, pussy winding tighter and tighter, your body about to burst. Quietly, with a command he’s not had in his voice until now, Frankie says your name. Come. Now.

Your orgasm is blinding. You cease to exist in the corporeal world for an indeterminate time, coming to only when Frankie pulls you to his chest, his hips pressing up into you as you milk him. You’re achingly aware of the way his cock jumps inside of you as he pumps you full of cum, of the way his fingers grip and bruise your body, of the way you sink your teeth into his shoulder as you continue to throb around him.

‘Fuck.’ you bite out, resting your forehead against his as you pant into each other’s mouths. Minutes tick by, Frankie’s harsh grip turning to soft caresses, and you press chaste kisses to his nose, his forehead, his lips, before you rest your head against his collar bone. He takes a deep breath.

‘Baby,’ he starts. You watch his throat bob as he swallows, searching for what he’s about to say. You squeeze his middle gently. ‘Joel -’

‘Is my problem,’ you breathe, ‘I did this. It’s on me. He knew I’d break the rules.’

He swallows, nods.

‘Okay.’

You press a kiss to his neck, and he visibly relaxes.

‘It’s okay,’ you murmur. ‘No one’s gonna be mad at you. No one’s gonna be mad, full stop.’ He makes a noise of appreciation somewhere in his throat. 

You bite your lip and lean back, fixing him with a wicked grin.

‘Besides, this is all part of the foreplay.’

‘The foreplay?’ He whispers, brow furrowing.

You nod, humming at the feeling of his cum slipping from the warmth of your cunt.

‘You really thought he’d just come in your mouth?’

His eyes darken, a huff slipping from his kiss-bitten lips. He brings your hand from his neck to his mouth and bites down on the flesh of your palm. You giggle again.

‘Mm, you like that, baby boy? Like the idea of daddy playing with you, too?’

‘Stop.’ He groans, ‘You keep talking like that, and -’

‘There’ll be a round two?’ you tease. ‘Doesn’t sound like a bad thing to me,’ you smile, feeling him twitch inside you. ‘In fact,’ you continue, ‘That sounds like something a very good boy would do.’

‘Stop talking,’ he growls, ‘And take me upstairs. I remember something about you promising to let me taste you.’

The smile that grows across your lips is impossible to hide.

———

Pope wasn’t fucking around when he told you Frankie was good with his mouth.

He wakes you the next morning with more of what he gave you last night, his tongue warm and wet against your cunt, lapping and kissing and sucking until you’re sweating and writhing above him, hands fisted in his hair.

He likes that.

Likes biting marks into your thighs, making you moan and cry and come again and again. Likes when you’re a little mean, when you tell him what to do, when you hold him afterwards, when you let him fill you and fuck you until you’re both whimpering and covered in cum and slick.

The three days that follow pass in a blur of not touching and definitely touching. Frankie quickly becomes accustomed to waking wrapped up in your bed, your arm thrown over his side, and you quickly become accustomed to the sweet praises that drip from his lips as he slots himself inside you - how tight and sweet you are, how he can’t believe he fits in so well. How he can’t wait to share you, properly this time.

He bends you over the kitchen table after you’ve finished eating dinner, licking into you before splitting you open, and you take him in your mouth on your knees in the shower, making sure to remind him of how pretty he is, how good he feels in your mouth. You work him open with your fingers, your tongue, curling them inside him just to watch him struggle not to come so fast. It’s gorgeous. And when you’re too sore and swollen to have each other again, you find yourself cradled between his thighs, your back to his chest as he circles your clit gently with two fingers, kissing your neck and grinding himself against you as you moan, as you remind him how you need to get to work.

‘I know, baby,’ he murmurs, ‘Just wanna watch you come again.’

It’s feverish, it’s risky. You try to be a good liar, but you’re sure Joel knows. Knows you well enough, anyway, to guess that it would happen at some point. Which just means he must have been planning what he’d do to you after finding out for some time, too. You try to be careful as the week goes on - planning to wash your sheets, to not have Frankie in the house when Pope or Joel return. To just try and make it look like you succeeded, that you listened. That you were good.

You’re on your elbows and knees, body weak, pussy swollen and dripping as Frankie spears you from behind when the text comes. It’s Santi.

I’ll be home 2morrow. Look forward to seeing u 2.

One more time, Frankie gasps. Once more like this, and then you can wait. 

The two of you can wait until tomorrow.

———

You wait all day for Santi.

And you try to be good, you really do. But Frankie’s mouth is just so convincing.

He’s not allowed to bite, not allowed to leave any marks. He has permission to make you come, and then he has to clean you up again like nothing ever happened. You’re not going to touch him, and he’s not going to touch himself. He’ll have to save it for when Pope gets here. Which, as it’s turned out, is much later than he said. But not late enough to miss the show.

‘Am I interrupting?’

Frankie lurches away from between your thighs like he’s been scorched, backing up towards the end of the bed. He looks so surprised, so worried, that you snort at him, still so caught up in the throes of pleasure to not be too worried about Pope’s reappearance.

He looks good. A healthy glow to his skin, tight black top, his curls perfectly framing his face. His mouth is twisted into its most alluring smirk, and you watch it deepen at the flush of Frankie’s cheeks and the way you snake a hand between your legs.

‘Not at all, baby,’ you coo, and his eyes darken, following the path of your hand. It’s ingrained into you now, how Pope touched you last. The memory rushes through you, and you moan softly, the noises your hand is making against your wet folds so obscene. Still watching, he peels his belt from its loops, curling it in his fist.

He jerks his chin at Frankie.

‘You at least make her beg for it?’

You huff a small laugh, thinking back on how not thirty minutes ago Frankie had been on his knees in front of you, begging for a taste, begging to lick your cunt. 

Santi’s eyes shoot to you and the amusement on your face, and he steps forward with a smile.

‘Should have known,’ he says gently, through a smile. His palm cups your cheek, and you nestle into his touch, forgetting that whatever punishment Joel might have thought up, Santi might share. He traces your skin down your jaw, your neck, across your clavicles and down the arm closest to him. He holds your wrist, and pulls it up to his mouth where he can kiss your knuckles in greeting. ‘Hello, querida.’

You look back at him with wide, lust-blown eyes. ‘Hey, Santiago.’ 

He takes you in greedily, eyes scouring over your bare body, scrutinising so intensely that you almost feel self-conscious. 

‘What do we have here?’ he purrs, his spare hand reaching over you, thumbing your nipple. You whine and arch against his touch, fingers moving faster, and he tuts, shaking his head. ‘This will never do, cielo.’ He squeezes your breast firmly before running his fingers down the length of your arm, gripping your other wrist to bring your wet fingers to his mouth. He parts his lips and presses them in gently, and you mewl, hips bucking, as he works his tongue over the digits. His eyes are dark, boring into you, only distracted by the heavy breath Frankie takes from the other end of the mattress. He releases your fingers quickly.

‘No.’ he barks at the other man, and you swing your head to look at Frankie, a hand frozen mid-pull on his cock, face flushing an even deeper shade of red. ‘Did I tell you you could touch yourself?’

Frankie shakes his head frantically, hands moving to his sides.

‘Did I?’

‘No.’ he whispers, breathless, apologetic. Pope jerks his head again, over his shoulder. 

‘Off the bed.’

Frankie unfurls his limbs to stand at the bedside, cock heavy and bobbing against his stomach as Santi easily joins your wrists with one hand. It takes you too long to work out what he’s doing - his belt already curled around your hands before you make a noise of protest, silenced by a hard look from him. He twists the leather around your hands twice before tying them to the bedframe above you, giving a sharp pull to test the give. Your chest heaves, something sparking inside you as he cups your cheek gently.

‘Good?’

‘Yes, Santi.’ You murmur, taking your cue from how he admonished Frankie.

He steps back, admiring his handiwork, looking pleased.

‘Maybe that’ll help you keep your hands to yourself.’ He says, half-turning to Frankie.

‘Down.’

Frankie drops to his knees at the command, and you moan, thighs clenching, arms straining above your head, tight to your eyes. Santi says something to you, muffled, and you try to relax again to hear him, a quiet hm? the only sound you can make.

He cocks his head at you, lips curled.

‘Lube, querida,’ he says, ‘Where do you keep it?’

You inhale sharply, mind buzzing. 

‘U-under the bed.’

Pope drops to his knees beside you, rifling around until he finds and pulls out a green box, ripping off the lid. His face splits in a dangerous, thrilled grin.

‘Now, what have we got in here?’

You watch with bated breath as Pope rummages through the box, your chest heaving, arms straining against the belt again. He throws the bottle of lube onto the bed before turning his attention back to your toys. He brings your wand into your line of sight, and you squeeze your eyes closed as he presses the button, the room filling with its buzzing sound. 

You flinch when he brings the vibrator into contact with your skin, tracing your nipples. Your eyes fly open to find him and Frankie watching you intently. 

‘Had a lot of time to think about this while I was away,’ Santi says, almost to himself, ‘But I’ve got much better ideas now.’

Pope licks his lips as he dips the wand lower, teasing it around the soft flesh of your thighs before resting it against your clit.

You yelp at the contact, body juddering.

‘Please, Santi,’ you cry, ‘Please -’ but he shushes you gently, stroking your hair as he lays the wand between your thighs, nestled in to where the feeling is most intense, most overwhelming. 

‘It’s okay, baby,’ he coos, ‘Just need you to hold that there, be a good girl.’ 

You whimper brokenly up at him, and he pouts at you, teasingly.

‘Listen to me,’ he says, and you hold your breath, ‘That’s gonna stay right there, against your pretty little pussy, and you’re not gonna come, are you, querida?’

Your brain buffers, jaw clenching against the heat rising through you, and Santi frowns at you.

‘Are you?’

The air bursts from your lungs as you moan out a no, rewarded with a smile.

‘Good girl.’ he says, dipping to pick something up from the floor. Your panties from where Frankie had stripped you of them earlier.

He taps your chin.

‘Open,’ your mouth falls open of its own accord, and Santi stuffs the lace in. ‘Something for you to bite down on.’

You huff, brow furrowing in concentration, desire, as Pope steps away again and moves towards Frankie.

Frankie, still on his knees, watching open mouthed, cock jumping as he takes you in - stretched out, bound and desperate. His eyes leave yours to watch Santi begin to strip himself of his clothes, and you join him, groaning at the slow show he gives you both. His smooth, tan skin, the muscles that ripple beneath. He unbuttons his jeans before stilling, eyes falling on Frankie.

‘Come here,’ Santi says, and Frankie shuffles forward instantly. ‘Good boy. Now take me out, and show our girl what else you can do with that mouth.’

Your eyes roll back into your skull, and your wrists tug at Santi’s belt. From behind the fabric in your mouth, Pope can hear your muffled fuck. He smirks down at Frankie.

‘Before she comes, hermano.’

‘Pope,’ Frankie breathes, shocked through his haze of arousal, confused, warning.

‘What?’ Santi says, cupping his cheek gently. ‘You don’t think I checked with Joel? Didn’t ask what you got up to before he left? Don’t worry, baby, I did. He just wants to know she’s being taken care of. The sooner you put me in your mouth, the sooner we can do just that.’

Frankie swallows visibly, flustered, eyes flicking to you before he reaches out to tug Santi’s jeans and boxers down, taking the other man’s hard cock in his hand, squeezing and pumping gently. He takes care to thumb over the precum that gathers at his tip, using it to ease the movement. Pope breathes out slowly before touching Frankie’s bottom lip with his thumb, parting his mouth. He joins Frankie’s hand at his base and taps the head of his cock where his thumb had just been, and Frankie opens wider, allowing space for Pope to slide in. He takes lazy thrusts as you watch with wide eyes, hips canting against the toy, cunt pulsing, body on fire - acutely aware that Frankie has a gag reflex to rival your own. The thought makes you giggle, a kind of pride blooming in your chest. So easy. Frankie stares up at his best friend with glassy eyes, cock leaking and untouched between his legs, palms resting, unflexed, atop his thighs. 

‘He’s a good toy, isn’t he, cielo?’ Pope hums, slowing the rhythm of his thrusts. ‘So good at just - taking it. Barely any fight in you, is there, baby boy?’

With his mouth full of Santi’s cock, Frankie can barely shake his head. The corners of Pope’s lips curl.

‘No. I’ll bet she hardly even had to ask you. Just a little while longer watching her and you’d have begged to feel her milk you yourself. Isn’t that right, Fish?’

Frankie moans beneath him, his cock dribbling and straining. You want so badly to have it on your tongue, in your hand, inside your pussy, that you whine again, louder. Santi’s eyes slide to you, mouth wide in a smirk. 

‘Quit whining, querida. We’ll be with you in a moment.’

You groan again as Pope twists his fingers in Frankie’s hair, cooing at him. 

‘Yeah, seems that you both thought to tell us how’d you’d watched, hm? It’s a pity you couldn’t wait to touch, though. Could have made this so much easier for yourselves.’ You wriggle your hips a little more, finding just the right angle, the right pressure. Oh, it’s so good. Too good. Your noises come louder, faster, and though Frankie’s eyes don’t leave Santi, his body twitches, finely attuned now, to how you sound before you come. As though he’s read Frankie’s mind, Pope’s eyes snap back to you.

‘Not yet.’ He bites. 

You breathe jagged, harsh breaths through your nose, eyes scrunching shut against the coil that’s tightening in your core. You’re so wet you can feel it dripping through your folds, straight onto the sheets, and you try to think of anything but the sound of Santi’s cock moving in Frankie’s throat. What groceries you need to buy, the post you need to hand to your neighbour, what you’ll wear to meet Sarah. Joel. Joel. Fuck, no. That makes it even worse.

You moan again, dangerously close to the edge, cracking open your eyes to see Frankie bobbing up and down Santi’s length, drool escaping the corners of his mouth. How his cheeks hollow, how he sinks down to the wiry hairs at the bottom, eyes fixed on Santi’s face, unwavering, swallowing; moving back up to kiss the tip, the spit that trails from his lips to Pope’s head, how Pope rocks his hips forward, chasing the sensation. How Santi groans for him, tomalo, mírame, tu boca, tan bonito -

Your hips stutter, now trying to move away from the vibrator as Pope’s hand finally grips Frankie’s curls, pulling him in closer, holding him still as he fucks his throat, and you try to get out a please, please, trying to back yourself down, trying so hard even though it would be so easy -

Santi’s gaze finds you, lost to the feeling of the other man’s mouth, and he smiles kindly.

‘Casi ahí, bebita.’

You shake your head, eyes pleading, desperate, teary, and he seems to take pity on you. He uses his grip on Frankie’s curls to ease him off slowly, marvelling at the way his cock emerges, glistening; at the way Frankies mouth still hangs open for him to fill. 

‘Should we help her out, baby?’ He asks softy.

Frankie looks to you, eyes glassy, cheeks flushed. Please, you try to moan again.

‘Yes.’ He says, voice hoarse.

Pope holds a hand out to him to help him off the floor, and Frankie stands on shaky legs. You try to will them to move faster, teetering on the edge, breath leaving you in great puffs, your body straining away from the toy, arms aching with the effort of trying to pull yourself away.

‘You ready to come, princesa?’ Santi murmurs.

You gurgle an mhm, sniffling as his hand moves low, hovering over the vibrator. Frankie bends, his cock angry and red still, to press a kiss to your temple.

‘Did so well,’ he whispers, ‘It’s okay, hermosa.’

Pope takes that as his cue to take hold of the wand.

Your back arches as he presses it down, harder against you, roving it back and forth for extra friction. You start to beg through your panties, knowing you can’t hold back anymore as your pussy turns traitor, beginning to flutter. Tears spill from the corners of your eyes, and Santi smiles.

‘Now.’ he whispers.

Your body pulls impossibly tight, giving in to the rush of fire that has been simmering, your muscles clenching painfully as sound and sight evade you. You can feel your lungs working, feel the choked gasps leaving you, feel your arms pulling at Santi’s belt, but you are somewhere outside your body. A rush courses through your body, and you feel yourself gushing between your thighs.

When you come to, blinking, body slick with sweat and your cum seeping down your legs, Pope is untying your hands. You drop them above your head, and Frankie takes your wrists, massaging them soothingly with his thumbs. Santi presses a tender kiss to your stomach, moving the vibrator away as you shiver and jerk with overstimulation.

‘So good, bebita,’ he says, ‘Atta girl. Look how well you behaved there.’

He presses his fingers into your mouth to remove the lace, and your tongue works around your gums to alleviate the dryness the fabric left.

‘Can you move?’ He asks gently, and you nod weakly, cinching at the waist to haul yourself up. He brings his palms to your shoulder, rubbing your skin as Frankie sits behind you, pressing kisses to the nape of your neck. ‘Well done, princesa.’

He brings you further forward, cradling you to his chest as he tells Frankie to lay back behind you, then angles your shoulder to turn and face him. Frankie looks fucked. His bare skin untouched, his cock dribbling precum, pooling at his stomach as you watch. His jaw is clenched like he’s trying to stop himself from begging, and you reach out to touch his thigh, trying to offer comfort in any way you can. He whimpers at the warmth of your skin.

‘Should we help him, querida?’ Pope whispers in your ear, your back still to his chest.

‘Yes.’ You answer, throat dry. He kisses your cheek, and you feel his smile.

‘Use your mouth, bonita.’

You move from Pope to settle yourself between Frankie’s legs on all fours, breathing kisses into his inner thighs before touching him, trailing a finger down his soft shaft. He hisses at the sensation, and you pause, meeting his eye. He swallows, nods.

‘Keep going.’ He rasps.

You pull yourself further up, mouthing at his underside, pressing kisses to his leaking tip before laving your tongue up and down his length. When his hips buck at the sensation, you move a palm to cup his balls and take him fully into your mouth, sucking and hollowing your cheeks, humming with the salty taste of him. His hands quickly find the side of your head, and you move back up towards his tip, licking into his slit to drink down more, playing with his frenulum in a way you know drives him insane. He moans, deep and needy, puffing out a soft fuck as you take him down to the base again, nuzzling the hair there, breathing him in. His cock jumps in your throat, and he looses a needy whine, pulling on your hair, but you don’t budge.

‘Hermosa -’ he breathes, voice tight, and Santi speaks again from behind you.

‘Are you gonna last, hermano?’

Frankie looks up from watching you, unfocused, swaying his head. Pope makes an amused sound, and you feel his hands on you, positioning you, then the press of his tip against your slick hole.

‘Just a little longer, Fish. So much to do with you two.’

Santi glides inside of you easily, but it’s still enough to knock the breath from your lungs. You moan around Frankie’s sensitive dick, and he gasps, hands tightening in your hair.

‘Please -’ he warns, ‘Please -’ as Pope pulls out and thrusts back in again. You cry out, moving back up to Frankie’s tip, moving up and down the best you can as Pope dives in and out of your pussy, knocking you forward to take Frankie deeper with each thrust. ‘Santi -’ Frankie grits, and the other man chuckles behind you. 

‘Alright,’ he says, ‘Don’t want to spoil the fun.’ 

You whine and pout at the loss as he withdraws from you completely, turning your head to find that he’s stripped himself of his jeans and underwear. He winks at you before giving you a little push.

‘Ride it, querida.’

You push yourself up eagerly, coming to straddle Frankie’s hips before positioning him at your entrance. He looks up at you with blown, lust filled eyes, absolutely ruined. 

Despite the stretch, you sink down onto him without stopping. 

He feels so good. Just like the first time.

You writhe down at his base as his hands shoot out to grip your hips, his beautiful neck straining as his grits his teeth, his abs flexing as he attempts to hold you still. But it didn’t work the first time, and it won’t work now.

You take yourself slowly up, smiling at the wet sound of the movement before sinking down again, feeling him stretch you out, feeling him in your stomach. It’s a delicious ache. You wonder what Joel would say right now, watching you take him so easily, watching how he fills you. Bet you can’t wait to know what his cock feels like inside you, huh? Can’t wait to be droolin’ and comin’ over him like you do me, hm? You clench tight around Frankie at the thought, at the same time as a little ache settles in your chest. You miss him. You miss him, and you wonder what he’d be doing with his hands, his mouth, his cock -

‘Que cosita mas linda.'

Santi’s voice brings you back as you bounce on Frankie’s lap, and you lift your head to look at the younger man, his eyes heavy-lidded, lip nipped between his teeth.

‘She gonna make you come like this, Francisco?’

At the use of his full name, all of the sounds Frankie has been trying to hold back break free from him. All of his pretty little gasps and moans, his whimpers, the way he pants your name as he clings to you, eyes never leaving where you’re joined as he pleads -

‘Can I? Can I come?’ 

You clench around him again, the knot in your belly snapping at his words, your orgasm blinding as it comes at you sideways. Frankie moans loudly, repeating your name. You gasp, high little pants of uh- uh- as you jolt on him, pain mixing with pleasure as you call his name, Santi’s name, Joel’s name -

‘Up. Off.’

Santi presses a palm to your backside to move you off of Frankie’s length, even as you still clench around him. 

‘Fuck,’ Frankie heaves, ‘Fuck, please, no -’ 

‘Quiet.’ Santi bites at him, and Frankie whines, his cock jumping between your folds at his tone. You close your eyes. 

‘Let him,’ you plead, ‘Please, let him, Pope.’

You wanted him to come, he deserved to come. You move your lips up and down his length, and Frankie chokes a moan, his body moving higher up the bed as Santi moves behind you, but you can’t work out why behind the darkness of your eyelids. Your eyes are still closed, body still quaking as Santi leans forward to press a kiss to the centre of your spine. You arch your back against his mouth and he chases you, pressing another slightly higher, scraping his teeth against your skin.

‘Querida,’ he says. You can only moan in response. You know it’s not what he wants, but your brain is so fuzzy it can’t comprehend anything beyond it.

‘Turn around,’ he says, and you whimper, eyelids fluttering as you scratch gently at Frankie’s chest. The man beneath you writhes at the feeling, head rolling, eyes closing, fingers flexing bruisingly on your hips. ‘Turn. Around.’ Santi grits, this time taking Frankie’s hands so he can prise them off you, gripping your waist in an effort to turn your body. 

There’s no graceful way to do it, but Frankie handles your limbs with gentle hands as you swing your legs around him. 

When you face Pope, the sight that greets you is even better than you could have imagined. 

He eyes you hungrily, carnally, his brow dark and hair curled more than you've ever seen. But your eyes are taken to where his fingers are sunk knuckle-deep into Frankie, pumping them slowly. You moan as he digs them in deeper before curling them, repeating the beckoning motion until Frankie’s belly twitches. At the tells of his orgasm, Pope removes the digits slowly, deaf to Frankie’s desperate begging. You watch, mute, as Pope then takes the bottle of lube from beside him, pouring it onto his cock with a quiet moan, jacking himself before pressing his tip to Frankie’s hole. You feel the man below you tense slightly, and you stroke his thighs, fallen open on either side of Santi, with soothing fingers. When he relaxes, one of Pope’s hands meets yours on his flesh, the other helping to guide himself in. You watch as his length is swallowed, breathing shallow, listening to any noise the pair make. Frankie’s ragged groan, the way he chants Pope, Jesus, fuck, his bruising grip back on your hips, Pope’s answering growl as his eyes roll to the ceiling before fluttering shut. When he bottoms out, you watch as his stomach flexes, eyes then drifting lower, where you can only see the coarse hair at the base of his cock, the rest of it buried inside Frankie. You feel your face crease as your stomach turns molten.

Your hips drop to the swell of Frankie’s stomach, searching for any kind of friction. It should be impossible to be this constantly turned on. You move your hips as Pope drags his cock in and out of Frankie once, twice, murmuring how tight he is, how pretty, how good, before his eyes find yours.

‘You want her to sit on your face, pretty boy?’ Santiago purrs at the man over your shoulder.

‘Oh, fuck, please.’ Frankie moans.

Pope jerks his chin at you, sending you shuffling clumsily backwards, blinded by how badly you need to feel something, eyes fixed again to where he thrusts in and out of the younger man, angling your hips above Frankie’s face. You only see his mouth open, tongue already out to lick a fat stripe through your folds, before he pulls you roughly down, moaning against you.

‘Jesus - fuck -’ you hiss, trying to jerk away. It’s too much, too soon, but Frankie is too strong, too desperate to taste you. Your hand flies out Santi’s chest, scratching his skin before trying to find purchase higher up. You take his neck between your thumb and fingers as Frankie eats at you, his mouth harsh and hungry as it sucks and licks. Santi stutters out a groan as you tilt his head at you and squeeze.

‘Make him come,’ you murmur, ‘Make him come, baby, and then you can show me what else you wanna do with us.’

Santi grins and pants against you, his hips faltering for a moment as he leans his neck further into the cradle of your hand. He nods quickly, eyes glazing and soft. You smile back at him, squeezing again, pleased.

‘Frankie always said you were a good soldier, Santiago,’ you coo. ‘Should have known what you really needed was to be told what to do.’

‘Fuck you.’ He grins against your lips.

You answer it with a pathetic, needy little whine.

‘Mm, yes please, baby.’

Frankie takes the moment to suck particularly hard at your clit, and you feel your face crumple - one hand scrabbling at the younger man’s belly, the one at Santi’s neck now gripping the shoulder of the man fucking him. Frankie works diligently at your cunt, anchoring your hips to him as he devours you ravenously, letting the tip of his nose rest just inside your entrance as he flicks your bud with his tongue, swirling it in circles as you grind against him. 

This orgasm comes slow, like wading through treacle. It drips down your spine as you curve over Frankie, gasping and shuddering, so breathless that even Pope slows down. Frankie must feel you jolt and twitch above him, lapping up the last of your cum before he releases you from his grip. You lift your hips quickly, needing reprieve, aftershocks still knocking through you as you pant against Santi’s chest.

‘So good,’ you breathe, loud enough for Frankie to hear, ‘So good to me, baby boy, aren’t you?’

Pope presses a kiss to your hair as you work a fist around Frankie’s cock, squeezing his base. He jumps beneath you, a heady, keening noise wailing from his now unoccupied mouth, and you squeeze him tighter, pumping him once, twice, his shaft slick with your juices and his precum.

‘You’ll make him come.’ Pope warns, and you hum against him, forehead just above his sternum. You’re too lost in the way his cock looks as it disappears into Frankie.

The door opens so quietly you don’t hear it, but Santi does. How he keeps his wits about him despite what’s happening is beyond you. He stills his movements inside Frankie, and you feel his damp breath against your forehead, head dipping as he nudges your cheek with his jaw, turning your face towards it. 

‘Look who’s home.’ He murmurs into your ear. 

Your stomach swoops.

Joel stands in the doorway. His nose and brow rosy from working in the sun, your favourite flannel draped over his broad shoulders, a grin twisting his lips as he takes the scene in. His eyes dip from yours to your tits, to the way your body curls over Frankie’s. He takes in the man laying beneath you - his face shining with your cum, blissed and fucked out. The rise and fall of his tummy, the way his thighs are splayed to make room for Pope. The way Santi can’t help but flex inside him, earning a ragged groan from both of them, up the other man’s torso, his neck, to the dark eyes watching him back. It’s breathtaking. 

Joel cocks his head.

‘Don’t stop on my account,’ he drawls, ‘Y’all make such a pretty picture.’

You swallow loudly, letting your head fall back to Santi’s warm shoulder, panting before looking back at him. Something swirls in your gut, and you speak before even realising.

‘Come here,’ you whisper, voice cracking. ‘Come here and make it even prettier, daddy.’

The three of you watch as Joel steps towards you, letting the door fall shut behind him.

help with spanish translations from @/urmomsgnocchi's invaluable post here. if there are inaccuracies, please drop me a message <3

[subbmissivesuccubus]

Part 2 of this~

Content : Rengoku X Fem reader X Uzui. Threesome. Exhibitionism. Oral sex (giving and receiving). Unprotected sex.

Taglist (Let me know if you'd like to be added to the list!): @its-missa

Not one to waste any time, Rengoku's hands slid up your Yukata, ignoring your yelp as he grasped what he was looking for.

"W-W-Wait! Rengoku-sa-aaann!" You squealed as the man grabbed your panties and slid them off of you, discarding them before immediately grabbing the back of your knees and pushing them up, making your body fold slightly. You failed to bite down your yelp as your legs were pushed to your chest, the position humiliating yet so hot- "W-We're outside!" You hissed, face turning even redder at the way the flame pillar was staring at your sex, a look in his eyes like he was mesmerized, the position making your cunt look extra plump and delicious. With the way the bench was situated, if you turned your head to the right, you'd see Uzui next to you and a couple feet behind him was the inn, close enough for people to understand what was happening if they happened to look this direction.

"Relax, cutie~" Uzui said, the arm he had around you running up your waist before he grabbed your left breast, his hand big enough to envelop it pretty well, squeezing it like a toy through the fabric. "We're Hashira afterall," he explained, chuckling as you writhed underneath them, an adorable blush on your cheeks "We can do whatever we like and no one would stop us."

"And I told you I'd prove to you that I'll make an excellent husband," Rengoku said, looking up with you with his bright eyes, filled with desire and lust, "so be a good girl and take it, alright?" "You- you can prove that inside the inn!" you hissed, but your body betrayed how excited you were, your pussy growing wet from the situation, a fact Rengoku immediately noticed. "I'm an impatient man." he said, pressing his lips against your inner thigh and sucking a hickey onto it, making your toes curl, "and it seems my wife to be is quite an impatient woman too."

With that, he placed a sweet kiss to your clit, hands running down to the back of your thighs, his hold on you still tight, keeping your body steady and folded the way he wanted it to be. His tongue flicked out to start twirling your clit around, running in circles over the cute bud before he started flicking it, the point of his tongue assaulting it mercilessly. You slapped a hand over your mouth as your legs already started shaking, Rengoku's hot tongue so sinful. His groans traveled up your spine as he sealed his lips around your clit and sucked, making you hiccup at the suction. Giving it a light nibble, he then pulled away to drag his tongue from your hole all the way to your clit over and over again, the man moaning from the taste of your slick. Shaking his head from side to side, his tongue ran all over your pussy, licking up every nook and cranny, eating you out like a man starved.

"You know, despite the fact that I'm jealous he getting to taste you first tonight," Uzui said - practically sitting on his side as he was turned towards you, his big body partially hiding you from any passerby's as his right hand gently slipping into the folds of your Yukata to grasp your left breast, "Getting a close view of your adorably lewd expressions is quite the treat~" You mewled, breathing heavily through your nose as Rengoku stuffed his tongue inside your aching hole just as Uzui started squeezing your bare tit, greedily playing with it before his fingers focused on your nipple, trapping it between his thumb and forefinger before giving it a harsh pinch. Rengoku groaned as he felt your pussy tighten around his tongue, pulling away for a second to say: "Do that again. She likes it."

Uzui's chuckle made your spine shiver, the man kissing your cheek before his hands grabbed the folds of your Yukata by your chest and roughly pulled them apart. You squealed as your bare breasts were exposed to the cold wind, settling down with a bounce, your nipples hardening instantly. "No bra. How naughty~" Uzui teased, eyes glued to your pretty chest. "Th-That's cause- just came out of the bath- ah!" You barely got to finish your sentence before Uzui leaned down and took a nipple into his mouth, your other boob being squeezed by his hand.

Pussy gushed around Rengoku's face, the man drinking it like he was dying of thirst as you tried your hardest to not make any sounds. You slapped both hands over your mouth, pressing down tightly and muffling your moans as Uzui's hot tongue danced around your sensitive nipples, teasing it a bit before he sealed his lips around it and sucked so hard it made your toes curl.

Out in public, tits and pussy out in the open, Yukata hanging on for dear life by your waist- you couldn't believe this was happening. "You're a sensitive little thing, aren't you?" Uzui asked with a chuckle as he switched from one nipple to the other, "Even when we took you last time- even the slightest touch got you hot and bothered. It's so fucking cute- mmph~" Latching onto your other nipple, Uzui moaned into your skin at the feeling of your hard, sensitive bud against his tongue. He was getting so addicted to your reactions, he couldn't help but give it a gentle nibble, cock twitching as he heard your muffled yelp.

Rengoku was just as addicted, slurping up your slick as he stuck a finger into your pussy, groaning as your hot, wet walls enveloped it. He couldn't wait to get his cock in you- but only after you came in his mouth. "Hold you leg up." he ordered and you did as you were told, moving a hand away from your mouth to grab onto the back of your left leg, holding it up for Rengoku as he continued to finger you, sliding a second one in and curling it just right.

You were trying your hardest to muffle your moans, tears in your eyes from restraining yourself. You'd often look to the side to see if anyone was watching, and while no one was, you always felt like someone could be and you didn't know if that made the situation hotter.

"G-Gonna c-cum-" you whined, voice breaking from the restraint. Your nipples were sucked and bitten raw, hickies littering your chest as Uzui still continued to shower your breasts with attention. Your juices were dripping down Rengoku's hand, his mouth still unrelenting as he sucked your clit, giving it gentle nipples. "Cum for us, baby." Rengoku groaned into your pussy, "Cum in my mouth- want to taste you~"

You bit your bottom hard enough to almost draw blood, your body shaking as you could feel your orgasm get closer and closer and closer and you knew you wouldn't be able to keep your voice down. You moans were already loud despite your best efforts, unable to smother men with how good the two of them were making you feel. As the knot in your abdomen threatened to break, just a few seconds away from an orgasm, your hand left your mouth as you got Uzui's attention.

"K-Kiss me!" you begged, pulling his Yukata desperately, trying to get him away from your chest to help you out, "Kiss me p-please- mmph!"

Uzui didn't hesitate for even a second as he moved upwards and slotted his lips against your just as you climaxed. One hand on your breast as he squeezed, he expertly shoved his tongue down your throat, swallowing your moans and holding you down as your orgasm made your whole body shake in pleasure. He groaned at the feeling of you squealing into his mouth, making you gag on his tongue, the kiss a filthy mess of spit and teeth and he loved it. Rengoku's moans and groans added to the pleasure, the man's hot tongue relentless as he helped you ride your orgasm. He continued to suck and lick, wondering if he was in heaven as directed your plush thighs to close tightly around his face as he drank down your climax, his face smushed between the soft flesh. Pussy gushing around his face like a faucet, he slotted his mouth against your cunt, sucking, licking and drinking you up until a shaky hand came up to push him away due to the over-stimulation. With a final kiss to your clit, Rengoku pulled away, breathless, face red and lips wet.

Uzui pulled away from the kiss, both of your lips swollen and red, breathing in each others air as you panted heavily from the force of your climax along with Uzui taking your breath away. He pressed his forehead against yours, rubbing his nose against yours sweetly.

"Come here." Rengoku said, pushing himself up to his legs, Uzui moving out of the way before he kissed you, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You could taste yourself on his lips, shivering at the sweet way he kissed you, a stark contrast to the filthy kiss you just had with Uzui. You yelped into the kiss as Uzui touched your sensitive pussy, the man cupping it with his palm before gently rubbing it up and down. "Good girl," Uzui said, petting your pussy gently, "He did quite the number on your poor kitty, huh?" "You did such a good job," Rengoku moaned into your lips, "So good for us." he pecked your lips again and again, a sweet gesture among a filthy situation.

"I wanna..." you gulped, mouth dry, feeling shy as Rengoku started peppering your face with kisses, "I wanna make you two...feel good too." your eyes glanced over their bodies, their erections pressing against their Yukata's.

"Let's go inside." Uzui said, taking his hand off of your pussy to start righting your clothes, "you might have been able to keep your voice down when he ate you out- but i'm sure you won't be able to do the same when we get our cocks in you."

-----

Uzui was absolutely right.

"Ah! Fuck- ah-ah-ahh!" You squealed as Uzui pushed inside you, his fat cock splitting you open deliciously. He grunted above you, silver locks falling over his shoulder as he drove his cock deeper and deeper inside you, licking his lips as he got a good view of your expression. Your hands fisted the futon beneath you, head tossed back against the pillow, eyes closed tightly as your body trembled with the feeling of getting speared on Uzui's cock. All three of you were buck naked, a tight fuck pile on your futon as you started what was going to be the first of a few rounds.

"Come here baby." Rengoku said, stroking his cock as he positioned himself beside your head, "give me that pretty mouth." You opened your eyes enough to look over at Rengoku, pussy throbbing as you watched him work his member, obediently opening your mouth for him. He hummed as he moved closer, running a gentle hand through your hair before he pushed himself past your lips, letting out a lovely moan as you sucked him in. Your lips first sealed around his cock head, sucking him like a treat, tongue dancing over him. He made you feel so good- you were excited to return the favor. Your tongue dug into the tip, tasting his precum, smiling as Rengoku's body jumped, groaning at the feeling. Eventually you opened your jaw more, an invitation for Rengoku to push his cock deeper into your mouth.

"oh- fuck yes-" Uzui groaned as he bottomed out, his balls throbbing against your pussy as he gave you a second to adjust to his size. He ran a hand up and down your body, grabbing handfuls of your tummy and chest as your pussy gushed around him, your attention split between the two of them.

"Gonna start moving, okay?" Uzui said, licking his lips as he made you wrap your legs around his waist, towering over you as he placed his hands on the futon, holding himself up, "be a good girl and take it, okay?" Your moaned around Rengoku's cock in confirmation and that was enough for Uzui. Gritting his teeth, he started moving his hips, slowly dragging his thick cock out and in, out and in. He could feel your slick, hot, tight walls press against him deliciously, your heat making his head spin already. Every time he pulled out, it felt like your walls were sucking him back in, begging him to come back inside which he happily did.

"Oh you're such a good girl- my good girl- my perfect wife~" Rengoku moaned, more vocal of the two as he slowly pushed down your throat, loving the way you gagged around him. One hand grabbing a bouncing breast, the other one in your hair, he gently started fucking your mouth, cock going in and out of your throat. Uzui snickered, picking up the pace as your cunt got used to him, "She tightened at that~ you like being called wife, baby?"

You mewled as Rengoku suddenly pushed himself completely into your mouth, eyes watering as his cock was down your throat, gagging several times before you tapped his thigh. He slowly pulled out, letting you breathe and cough, your hand obediently coming up to jerk his slobbered on member as you collected yourself.

"Look at you, such a good wife for us~"

You gasped, back arching as Uzui picked up the pace, balls slapping against you as he drove his member into you. His cock was hitting your g-spot, making your moans jump in time with his thrusting, pleasure coursing through your veins. Uzui's hands grabbed your hips, grip bruising as he chased his pleasure, mouth open and moaning as your pussy milked his cock perfectly.

"Deep throat me again, darling." Rengoku said, tightening his grip on your hair as he moved forward to push his cock into your mouth again. With a deep breath, you opened your mouth and groaned as he pushed in, this time going deeper and deeper until his abdomen was touching your nose, his fat cock lodged down your throat. This time, he started moving his hips, driving his cock up and down your throat, balls slapping against your face as he started fucking your face. His eyes rolled to the back of his head from the pleasure, mouth open in a constant moan at how amazing your mouth felt around him.

Uzui was no better, his hips now practically a blur with how vigorously he was pounding your pussy. Jack-hammering into you, his mouth spilled pure filth as he fucked your brains out, loving that he could see your expression change as you got more and more cock drunk.

"Such a naughty wife! You love this, don't you? Taking two fat cocks at once- such a slutty little girl~"

"Don't be mean, Uzui." Rengoku said, gritting his teeth as pleasure took over him, "she's being such a good wife for us- making us feel so good-"

"Can't wait till we get married~" Uzui said, raising your legs to his shoulders, holding onto them as he pounded you, loving the way Rengoku's cock failed to muffle your moans of pleasure, "you'll look so beautiful- oh fuck- in your wedding dress. I can picture it now~"

"Oh, yes!" Rengoku said, a statement of agreement and a moan of pleasure, "oh darling- you'll be the most perfect- fuck me- the most perfect bride in the whole World. Oh- how did I get so lucky?"

You pulled away from Rengoku's cock, jerking him off as you needed to second to scream- the pleasure and their words making your brain go crazy. "Fuuuuck!" you cried out, tears in your eyes, voice jumping from Uzui's thrusts, your tits bouncing up and down, "S' too m-much- you both- fuck- fuck- make me f-feel so- so good!"

"You can take it baby." Rengoku said, cupping your face lovingly, "don't you want be our good wife and take it?"

you nodded, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Uzui's cock reached even deeper inside you, pounding against your cervix. "Say it." Uzui said, sweat dripping down his face as he felt his orgasm approaching, "Say it for us."

"W-W-Want to b-be a good w-wife for you t-two." you sputtered, mind going dumb. Both the men hissed and groaned, Rengoku putting himself back in your mouth enthusiastically and you felt Uzui somehow grow harder inside you.

"I'm- fuck- fuck- fuck- i'm close!" Uzui said, now pushing your legs up into a mating press, pressing them down against your chest as he used his whole body weight to pound you, balls making a loud and sticky clapping sound against your ass. Rengoku was just as enthusiastic, holding your head still as he thrusted into your mouth with reckless abandon, his balls clenching as he knew he was close to cumming. You lied down and took it, mind and body being driven to the edge as you felt your own orgasm come close, loving the feeling of being used by them in such a dirty yet intimate way.

"I can't fucking wait to wife you up!" Uzui growled, "my naughty little bride- fuck!" he licked two fingers before sliding it between you two, rubbing your clit. You squealed around Rengoku's cock and that seemed enough to drive the man to the edge.

"fuck- fuck- fuck! I'm gonna cum-" he suddenly pulled out of you, grabbing your hand desperately and placing it on his cock. "Jerk me off baby-" he pleaded, face as red as the tips of his hair, "Want to cum all over my wife's face."

You gasped and heaved as you wrapped your hand wround the flame pillar's cock, his dick slick from your saliva as you moved your hand up and down quickly, jacking him off as you leaned forward to put his cock-head into your mouth, sucking on it.

"fuck- i'm gonna cum too-" Uzui said with a growl, fingers flicking your clit mercilessly, cock continuing to pound your pussy into next week, "Fuuuck- let's all cum together!"

"P-Please-" you begged, eyebrows furrowed and tears streaming down your cheeks, "together- want to- please-"

"I'm so close- fuck- come on- come on- come on!" Rengoku moaned, eyes closed tightly as you jerked him off. Uzui mirrored the same sentiment, chasing his orgasm and yours as he fucked and fucked and fucked. You don't know what took over you but your mouth worked faster than your brain as you knew exactly what to say to drive them over the edge:

"W-Want my husbands to cum for me~"

With a shout, both men climaxed simultaneously, gasping loudly from your words and the force of their orgasm. Balls clenching and eyes rolling to the back of their heads, the room was filled with shouts and cries, the force of their orgasms making their bodies shake. the feeling of Uzui filling your womb up with his hot, hot cum and of Rengoku splashing your face with ropes and ropes of his thick semen made you climax, pussy squirting jets of liquid as you wet the futon underneath you, your squeals and cries echoing through the room. You didn't know how thick the walls were but consider the noise all three of you were making- you had to assume it wasn't thick enough but you didn't care. All three of you trembled and moaned lewdly, grasping onto each other tightly as the force of the orgasms almost made everyone pass out. Almost.

"You...naughty fucking minx!" Uzui barked out with a laugh, catching his breath as he milked his balls for every drop, rolling his hips to make sure he filled you up to the brim, "Saying something like that- oh fuck- so hot."

"You have no idea what you do to us." Rengoku said, coming back down to Earth as he looked down at the mess he created, chest swelling with pride as he saw your pretty face stained with his cum, "My naughty wife. I hope you're not tired already. Your husband want's a chance fucking your pretty pussy."

"And this husband wants to see you gag on his cock~" Uzui said, slowly pulling out, hissing at the sight of your gaping pussy leak out his cum.

You gulped as you caught your breathe, body tensing as you strapped in for a long night. Oh boy, you sure did open something in them by calling them husbands and now, it was time to pay the price.

[starogeorgina]

𝐔𝐧𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧

Paring: Aemond Targaryen × Targaryen reader, minor Daemon Targaryen × Targaryen reader

Warnings: Smut, swearing, violence, blood, incest, major character death, cruel Daemon

1.04

Holding Daenys close, you breathe in the sweet smell from the back of her head, a thick mop of silver hair tickling your nose. She was freshly bathed, and I wouldn’t be long until she was asleep. Jacaerys holds up a toy that belongs to one of his brothers that makes a rattling sound, and Daenys takes it into her chubby hand and starts shaking it, causing you both to smile.

She was so pure and innocent, just as Jace and his brothers are.

“I don’t understand, so it was part of your plan?”

“Yes,” Jace whispers. “I’m letting Daemon believe the greens are going north so that he is distracted.”

For so long the two sides of your family were pitted against each other, mainly by your own mothers doing, but seeing Jacaerys eyes gloss over as she holds tightly onto a toy seahorse that you’d seen Lucerys play with years ago saddens you. All he wanted was his brother back. It wasn’t something you could do, but perhaps you could help protect his three other brothers.

“Tis a clever move.” With your free hand, you squeeze his arm. “Hopefully it will keep him occupied enough for my plan to work.”

In a low voice, Jace asks, “Do you think he will be kinder now that you are with child?”

“The noose around my neck may be loosened, but I'm not yet free of it.” You rest your palm against your stomach; the evidence of Daemon’s seed taking root was yet to show. “If something goes wrong, it will be my sweet girl who pays the price, not me. I need to keep her safe.”

You had thought long and hard about the best way to protect your daughter and unborn child, and you saw no other solution than to kill Daemon.

—

The castle had a stillness to it that you did not like; it makes you feel on edge. Dressed in nothing but a nightgown and thin robe, you walk the empty halls feeling nothing more than a little mouse being hunted by a lion, knowing at any moment Daemon would appear; he was like a creature from a storybook, always lurking and hiding within shadows and corners of the magnificent fortress.

Your location inside the castle was impregnable.

If Aemond flew in on his dragon with a hundred men in tow, it would take far too long for them to find you.

Humming you round a corner that leads back towards the royal chambers you have been placed in and head footsteps echoing in the distance.

You stop, it stops.

Taking a deep breath, you hold your position and remain standing in the same spot, trying to listen and guess how close he is, but even still, you are taken aback when you feel Daemon’s hot breath hitting the tip of your spine.

“You shouldn’t be wandering the halls alone at this time.”

You wait a beat before turning to face him. “I could not find sleep.”

“Why?” He frowns. “Do you feel unwell?”

“N…no, just a little warm.”

“Then sleep naked,” he snaps. He spins you so you face the door into your chambers and starts guiding you towards it. “I will not have you risk my child’s safety because of the weather.”

“I’m uncomfortable,” you pout. “You don’t understand the frustrations that come from being in my condition.”

“I don’t recall either of my wives ever being this dramatic.” He shoves you inside the room and slams the door shut, causing Daenys to stir. “If you continue behaving this way, I will have you thrown into the dungeon and chained to the wall until the babe is ripped from your arms or womb.”

Ignoring him, you meet the terrified handmaid's gaze and go over to her and take Daenys from her, cuddling her in an attempt to stop her from whining. Poor little girl. The loud noise frightened her. “Please, Daemon,” you say between kissing your crying daughter's cheek. “None of it needs to be this way. Let us go home. This is not what Rhaenyra would want.”

This was the moment; Daemon’s answer would be the final decider of what happens next.

Daemon grips your jaw between his fingers. His voice is laced with venom. “You’re nothing but a spoiled cunt.”

“Ella,” stepping back, you turn to the handmaiden. “Can you please take her to the nursery?”

It pains you to hand Daenys over, but she couldn’t be in the room for much longer. You knew Daemon too well and knew exactly how to rile him up and when to strike. The prince was taller, stronger, and dare you even think it, but he is probably smarter than you, so you’d need to make him vulnerable.

Soon as the door closes, you push against his chest, “You’re a twisted old man.”

“Yet you crave me.”

Without removing your hand from his chest, you scoff, “Excuse me?”

“You may hate me, but you are intrigued. Infatuated.”

Groaning, you lean into him, letting your nose brush against his neck. “I’m not infatuated; I just become... needy while pregnant.”

“You’re no better than a whore in a brothel craving my cock for a coin,” he pinches your nipple. “Perhaps once the babe is born, I’ll put you to work in a whorehouse; depraved men will pay a lot for a silver-haired bitch."

You flinch at his words.

“What are you waiting for, niece? Remove your clothes and go lay on the bed.”

—

God, you hated this man.

Daemon grunted beneath you as you moved your hips up and down, feeling disgusted as Daemon stretched you out. It had taken the prince some time before finally letting you go on top. You kept repeating that it was all a means to an end to yourself. Daemon was only weak and vulnerable after sex; he could go for hours before being overcome by tiredness.

You lean down so your breasts are swaying in his face, and as expected, he turns his attention to them. He takes a hardened nipple into his mouth while growling at your other breast.

Your arms are strained as you place your hands on either side of the pillow beside his head. Time was everything; you’d never win one-on-one combat, so you needed to play dirty to survive. A niggling doubt was lingering in the back of your head, but then you think of how much physical and emotional pain the prince had caused you, all the bruises left on your body. You needed to do this, no matter how big a sin it was.

The second Daemon closes his eyes, your fingers tighten around the blade hidden underneath the pillow, just Daemon’s head, and in a blink of an eye, you slash his throat.

His hands immediately go to his throat, attempting to stop the blood from pouring. His voice is gargled, “fucking cunt!”

Crying out, you jump from the bed and scramble to throw the nightgown back on, and at the same time, Daemon falls from the bed. Not wanting to find out if the cut was deep enough, you run away, leaving the man who tortured you to die alone.

—

“Jacaerys!”

It was of no surprise to you that your nephew was waiting in the nursery; he knew you had a plan, just not what it included. The second his dark eyes land on you, he looks as if he’s going to vomit. Daemons blood coating your body had soaked through to your nightgown.

“I don’t have long,” tears stream down your cheeks. “We need to go.”

“You cannot leave dressed like that.” He was trying to be brave, but his voice was cracking. He looks at the handmaid who was shaking and says, “Bring the princess a pair of my mother's shoes and cloak, quickly. Do not mention what you have heard or seen to anyone.”

She scurries off to do as the prince says. Your heart rattles in your chest; how long would it be until someone discovers what you have done?

—

Sand fills your shoes as you make your way along the beach towards King's landing. The sun was now starting to rise, and it wouldn’t be long until someone spotted a silver-haired princess covered in blood carrying a crying babe.

The closer you were, the louder you could hear Stardust’s cries. You presume she was currently in the dragonpit; otherwise, she would have flown straight to you. The bond between dragon and rider was strong, and you just knew Stardust would be able to sense you.

Jacaerys wanted to stay with you, but you begged him to fly home while it was still dark. The last thing you wanted was for Vhagar to appear. Vermax may be faster, but the dragon was still only young, and you feared they may suffer the same fate as Lucerys and Arrax since Aemond would act before thinking.

By the time you arrive at the gates leading into the courtyard, now escorted by the kingsguard who had spotted you, the word of your return has reached the keep, and you come face to face with your husband.

He looks older, more worn out, and broken.

Just like you.

—

Your skin is red and feels sensitive to touch; not only was your body now scrubbed raw to remove Daemon's blood, but so you could finally feel free of him. The lilac-coloured dress that once was the most flattering clothing you owned now looked different on you. Your breasts now larger from breastfeeding and pregnancy threaten to stretch the fabric covering your chest, and the material now clings over to your stomach, doing nothing to hide the changes your body has gone through.

You only had a short time to gather your thoughts and briefly speak to Aemond before being bombarded with questions.

All you wanted was to push the bad stuff to the back of your mind and just be a mother, cuddle, and play with Daenys without fearing someone would take her from you. But it wasn’t to be. The dowager queen, Aegon, Ser Criston, and your grandsire had burst through your chamber doors, distributing the little peace that you had.

Your eyes jump between Aegon, who was continuously ranting about sending men to kill your eldest sister despite your protest, and Aemond, who was suspiciously quiet. He had said very little.

“Aegon!” You snap, slamming your hands against the table. “My dragon is twice the size Sunfyre is, and I swear by the gods that if you harm Rhaenyra or her children, I will burn this fucking castle down with you inside. Do I make myself clear?”

“She is a threat—”

“No, Daemon was the threat, but he is dead.”

Ser Criston clears his throat, “Perhaps we should let things rest for a couple of days, my king. The princess has been through something unimaginable; we need to let her rest.”

It was beyond frustrating; Aegon only cares how things appeared to the smallfolk over what actually happened. Jacaerys helped you survive on Dragonstone; he ‘accidentally’ left the blade in the room you were kept in. Tears aping to your eyes, “Our nephew helped me. I will not allow him to be killed for it.”

“I’m glad you have returned home, granddaughter, but we do need a story to tell our council.”

You stare at Aemond, waiting to see if he has any input, but he remains silent. “Say that it was a joint effort to recuse me; this is a lie, but it’s not as if my brother ended up on the throne because you spoke the truth.”

“A joint effort?” Aegon scoffs.

“I had to kill our uncle so I could escape, because I knew nobody was coming for me! Did anyone even read the letters Jacaerys sent telling you where I was?”

Your grandsire sighs, “You need to understand our position; it could have been a trick.”

“Get out.” You step away from him. “I want everyone to leave me alone!”

“Nought will be done tonight,” Aemond suddenly storms towards the door. “This conversation is upsetting my wife and will resume in the morrow.”

—

Between wiping away tears, you finish writing a letter addressed to Jacaerys. You had caught a glimpse of Rhaenyra while traveling to the dragon mount, and she looked more like a ghost than a human. You weren’t entirely sure how, but you would find a way to protect them.

Hearing a knock at the door, you call out, “Come.”

Maester Orwyle enters; he avoids making eye contact as he places a foul-smelling tea in front of you.

“What is that?”

“Moon tea, princess.”

“Why is it in front of me?” You push the small plate in front of you further across the table, away from you. “I did not ask for it.”

A look of panic crosses his features. “Forgive me, princess; I was under the impression you did.”

Before anything else can be said, Aemond walks into your shared chamber; he had awoken and left before you awakened.

“Leave us.” More tears spill, but this time it’s caused by rage. “I told you I was with child in confidence, and yet you betrayed me by speaking with the maester and having this brought to me. What if I had drunk it without knowing what it was?”

Aemond stares at you, looking defeated. “He—Daemon did unthinkable things to you.”

“I am so sick and tired of men telling me what to do!” Frustrated, you toss the cup of tea at the wall. “I am not the same person I was, Aemond. I will not allow anyone to tell me what to do.”

“I’m not trying to tell you what to do,” he says, striding towards you until he’s close enough to cup your cheek. “I asked Orwyle what options you had; I did not think he'd brew the tea before we had a chance to talk.”

“My heart still aches for Anya and Rhaella.” You bring his hand to gently rest against your stomach. “It may be hard to understand, but this baby is mine, not his. I will care for this boy or girl as much as I do, Daenys. Can you?”

“I’m afraid that it will be a constant reminder of what was done to you.”

Your foreheads touch. “Then let it be a reminder of how hard I fought to get back to you, to save our daughter.”

A single tear falls from his eye. “I thought about you every day. I’ve done things I’m not proud of, but I will try my best to set things right.”

—

You return to your bedchamber after visiting your sister to say goodnight emotionally exhausted. You had remained cooped up inside your chamber to avoid dealing with the rest of your family, but you missed Helaena and needed to see her. You had refused any assistance from the handmaids on the assumption Aemond would already be asleep. Starting to untie the back of your gown, you reach the side of your bed, and your stomach drops. The cot at the foot of your bed was empty.

Just as you go to scream for the kingsguards standing on the opposite side of the door to enter, you hear a humming coming from the far side of your chambers. Sprinting over, you see Aemond standing by the fireplace, gently rocking your babe in his arms.

“She woke up fussing.”

“Tis not surprising; all this change has been a lot for our little princess.”

Aemond places Daenys into her crib, then sits in the chair beside it, his eyes glued to her the entire time. “Jacaerys, Rhaenyra, and the rest of her children will be spared.”

You fiddle with the loose ribbons hanging from your dress. “Aegon changed his mind?”

“With some persuasion.” Aemond takes hold of your hand and guides you to sit on his knee. “It does not please me to see him remain on the throne; our brother is a fool, but the matter is settled. He will allow Rhaenyra to remain queen of the rock she lives on.”

“Hmm,” you rest your head on his shoulder, letting Aemond hold you close. “I don’t ever want our daughter going through something like I did.”

“I cannot say what our futures will hold, but I swear to you now nobody will ever take you or Daenys again.” Aemond kisses your forehead. “I will keep the both of you safe by my side, always.”

[lee-laurent]

Little Green Monster - Luke Hughes

Summary: Riley wants his dad. And Luke is not his dad

content: children, tantrums (child punching, kicking, screaming), doubts about relationship, kissing, past oc x ex!john marino

wc: 3.3k

notes: the highly anticipated part 6!! this one is a bit of domestic life, but also dramaaaa. maybe luke wasn't as ready for a relationship with a mom as he thought (hehehe) ENJOY

"What does a cow say?" Luke asked as Riley handed him a plastic cow.

"Moooooooo!" Riley laughed, clapping his hands together as he put his plastic sheep in his little barn.

"Good job, Ri! You're so smart."

This was the first time that Luke had spent unsupervised time alone with Riley. Tori had gone to the basement of the building to do some laundry and had asked her boyfriend to stay and watch Riley for ten minutes. Riley was quick to rope Luke into playing farm animals with him, but Luke was enjoying it to be honest.

"Moo! Moo!" Riley took the cow back, bouncing it up and down like it was walking. "'Ockey."

"Hockey? What about hockey?"

"'Uke play 'ockey."

"I do, that's right."

Riley shook his head, frustrated that Luke wasn't understanding what he was saying. "No. 'Uke play 'ockey?"

"You want to play hockey?"

He shook his head again, standing up and toddling over to the coffee table. He grabbed the TV remote, shoving it at Luke's chest. "'Uke play 'ockey!"

"Ohhhhh, you want to watch hockey?"

Riley finally nodded, sitting down in Luke's lap as he sat criss-cross on the floor.

"I don't know if Mama would be happy if we watched TV right now," Luke sighed, knowing that Tori was pretty strict about the screen time. She didn't want to raise an iPad baby.

"'Ockey?" he tilted his head to the side, waiting for Luke to turn on the TV.

"Okay. What hockey should we watch?"

Luke flipped through the watched videos on YouTube, noticing that most of them were highlights of John or Sidney Crosby. He knew that Riley really looked up to his dad, so he wasn't surprised. But that didn't mean it stung any less.

"Dada!"

"You wanna watch you dad?"

"Dada!" Riley clapped, picking up his toy cow again.

"Alright."

Luke clicked on one of the fan made highlight videos of John, watching Riley's face light up when he heard the announcers say "Marino." Was that Riley's last name too? He didn't really ask Victoria much about that kinda stuff. He could tell she didn't like talking about her past with John.

"Mama's home!"

"Mama! 'Ockey!"

"Are you watching hockey with Luke? That's so fun, baby!" she smiled, pressing a kiss to both of their heads.

"How was the laundry room?" Luke asked, setting Riley down on the couch.

"Super exciting," she rolled her eyes, smiling at him playfully. Luke shook his head, leaning down to kiss her. "You resorted to the TV that fast?"

"No," Luke laughed. "We were playing farm animals but then he decided he wanted to watch his dad play hockey."

"So you're a push over?"

"Rude," he placed a hand over his heart, feigning a hurt expression.

"I'm joking. He loves watching John play. Almost as much as he loves seeing him in general."

Luke nodded, leaning down to kiss her again.

"What're your plans today?" she asked, pouring Riley a bottle for his snack before nap.

"Not sure. Might go to the gym with Jack for a bit. He's pissed I've been sleeping here. After that... nothing? Come back here and make out with my hot ass girlfriend."

"Not gonna happen, bud. Your 'hot ass girlfriend' has a playdate with her baby daddy."

"You're seeing John? Why didn't you tell me? I would've come."

"Because it's for Riley to have some proper family time."

"But the three of us hang out all the time," he frowned.

But Tori continued, not realizing how much her words were hurting him. "He needs some... regular family time. My therapist said it's a good thing to do. So, we're giving it a try."

"Your therapist? Why am I so out of the loop, V?"

"I just... I didn't want to stress you out, Luke. I'm doing fine, I just need some guidance when it comes to managing co-parenting."

"Oh. Well, I'm gonna go home and shower. Enjoy your 'playdate.'"

"Luke-"

"See you later, Tori."

She sighed, shaking her head as the front door closed. She threw the towel she was holding down on the counter, resting her head in her hands. She took a few deep breaths, trying to center herself. Maybe dating wasn't the best idea after all.

Luke arrived home to the apartment he shared with Jack, his mood soured by his earlier conversation with Tori. He didn't like how she'd worded it as "proper family time." Why wasn't him spending time with them the same? And therapy. Why didn't she tell him, her boyfriend, that she was doing therapy.

Jack was sprawled on the couch, watching some stupid show he'd found on Hulu.

"Hey, man. You ready to hit the gym?" he asked, not even turning to look at Luke.

"Yeah, but can we talk for a sec. I need some advice," Luke slumped down on the sofa next to his brother.

"Sure. What's going on?" he clicked the TV off.

"It's about Tori. Well... me and Tori. She told me this morning she's having some family time with John and Riley. Said it's important for Riley to have time with his dad. And she mentioned seeing a therapist about co-parenting. I didn't even know she was struggling with that stuff. Like am I that shit of a boyfriend that I couldn't even tell my girlfriend was struggling with her kid. And now I'm questioning if I'm really cut out for this whole thing."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Cut out for what? Dating someone with a kid?"

"Yeah. It feels like no matter what I do, I'm not measuring up. I'm always in John's shadow. And with Tori so focused on making sure Riley has time with John, I'm starting to wonder if I'm even needed in their lives."

Jack leaned back, studying his brother. "You're taking on a lot, man. It's not just about being with Tori; it's about being a part of Riley's life too. And John's presence makes that even trickier."

"I know. I really do care about Tori and Riley," Luke said, rubbing his face. "But it's tough feeling like I'm never going to fit into the family like John does."

Jack looked at him thougtfully. "You gotta ask yourself if you're ready for all this. This relationship isn't just about having a girlfriend; it's about stepping up and helping with the responsibilities that come with Riley. That's a lot of work."

"I want to be ready," Luke admitted. "But sometimes it feels like I'm just the guy who's not John. It's hard to see if I'm making a difference or if I'm just background noise."

"It's a lot of stress to take on. You need to think if you're prepared for that kind of pressure. Are you ready to be there for Riley, even when it's hard? Especially since he's a toddler. You have to be consistent and supportive."

"I guess I gotta evaluate if I'm ready for that," Luke said. "I thought I was. But this is a lot more complicated than I realized."

"There's an extra layer of complexity to this, dude. But I'm here if you get overwhelmed."

"Thanks for being honest with me, Jack. I needed to hear this."

"No problem," Jack replied. "Now let's hit the gym and work through some of that stress. Sometimes a good workout is all you need to clear your mind."

Jack's perspective had helped Luke realize the gravity of his situation, now he just had to think about where to go next.

~~

Tori walked into the park with Riley in tow, his lunchbox in her hand. John was already there, sitting on a park bench with a big smile when he saw Riley running towards him. Tori waved politely but kept her distance, wanting Riley to have some time with his dad.

"Hey, Ri-Ri!" John called out. "How's my buddy?"

Riley just giggled and clung to John, clearly excited to spend time with his dad.

"Thanks for bringing him. Missed family time."

"No problem," Tori smiled. "He's always excited to see you."

John nodded, moving his gaze to Riley. "So, how's everything? You've been busy lately."

"Yeah, things are a bit hectic. I've been trying to get more hours in working," Tori admitted. "But Riley's been good. He's adjusting well. Spending time playing with Luke."

John's eyes narrowed slightly, thinking of his next words. "You know, I've been thinking. It's important for Riley to have a stable environment. And, uh, Luke... well, he's still pretty young, right?"

Tori frowned, "What d'you mean?"

John leaned forward, lowering his voice as if someone was listening in. "I've noticed he's been around a lot. But, you know, having a young boyfriend can be tricky. It's not about him hanging out when he feels like it."

Tori crossed her arms, her expression guarded. "Luke's been doing his best. He's trying to be involved."

John shrugged, "I'm sure he is. But it's a lot for someone who's still figuring out their life. I mean, Riley needs someone that's going to hang around, not someone who could just leave whenever."

"I guess..."

John reached over, ruffling Riley's curls. "It's good that you're thinking about what's best for him."

"Yeah. Always."

"Have you been watching lots of hockey, Ri?" John changed the subject, hoping he'd planted the seeds of doubt in Tori's mind.

"Dada play 'ockey!" Riley clapped, snacking on some of the cheese that Tori had packed for him.

"You watch Dada play hockey?"

"Yes! With 'Uke!"

"Oh." John wasn't sure how to react to that. Sure Riley was watching him play hockey, but he was doing it with Luke. He could be watching it with him instead.

"It's great that he likes hockey, isn't it?" Tori grinned, breaking up some more cheese for Riley.

"It's awesome that you're watching hockey, but wouldn't it be more fun to watch with Dada?"

Riley, not understanding the subtext of John's question, just giggled. "Dada play 'ockey!"

"That's right, buddy," he glanced at Tori. "You know, Tori, maybe we could make that a regular thing. Just you, me, and Riley. Watching games together on my off days. Didn't you say he should be getting time with both his parents?"

Tori hesitated, her eyes flickering to Riley as he played with his lunchbox. "I don't know, John. We've been trying to keep things... balanced. I want him to spend time with you, of course, but I also want him to get more comfortable with Luke."

"I get that. But just remember, no one can replace his dad. I'm not saying Luke's a bad guy, he's just young. And let's be real, Luke's got his whole career ahead of him. Do you really think he can handle the responsibilities of being a father figure?"

"I'm not asking Luke to be Riley's dad. He knows that. But he's trying to be there for us, and I appreciate that."

"I just don't want you to get hurt, Tori. Or for Riley to get attached to someone who might not be around for the long run."

"I appreciate your concern, John," her tone a bit sharper than before. "But I've got his under control. I'm making decisions based on what's best for Riley."

"Of course," John raised his hands in mock surrender. "I'm just looking out for our son. That's all."

Riley tugged on John's sleeve, oblivious to the tension between his parents. "Dada, play 'ockey?"

"Sure thing, buddy. How about we practice shooting some goals together? Think you can beat Dada?"

Riley nodded eagerly, and John jumped at the opportunity to step away from the awkward conversation but also show Tori how good of a dad he was. "Come on, let's go play!"

They moved to a small concrete area near by, Tori watching from where they were sat. She knew John was trying to do something, but she couldn't deny the importance of his relationship with Riley.

"Alright, show me what you've got, Riley!" she cheered, moving the conversation with John to the back of her mind. As Riley focused on playing hockey with his dad, Victoria couldn't shake the idea that things were about to get more complicated.

~~

"Hey, you haven't been over for a bit? Riley's been asking for you," Tori smiled into the phone, mixing Riley's oatmeal in a bowl.

"Oh, um, yeah. Just been super busy. Sorry," Luke replied, fiddling with a stray thread on his hoodie.

"Oh. That's fine. D'you wanna come over for dinner tonight?"

"I have a training session with Nico. Sorry."

"Did I do something wrong?" Tori asked nervously, setting the bowl down for Riley. "Blow on it, Ri. Hot."

"Ooo 'ot!" he waved his hand, blowing on his food.

"No, Tori. I'm just busy."

"Are you su-"

"I'm busy, Tori. Drop it. I'll talk to you later."

"Oh, bye, Lu-"

He'd hung up. Tori sighed, moving on to making her own breakfast. Just as she was turning on the coffee pot, she heard a clattering sound. She turned around to find that Riley had thrown his bowl onto the floor, oatmeal covering the floor and bottom of his chair. His face and hands were also covered, his spoon discarded next to his bowl. She sighed again. It was going to be a long day.

She grabbed a wash cloth to start washing up the mess on her kitchen floor. As she crouched down, wiping up the oatmeal, Riley started crying, his fists rubbing at his eyes.

"Ri, what's wrong?" she asked, trying to keep her voice calm, though the exhaustion was already creeping in.

"Noooo!" Riley wailed, kicking his feet in frustration.

"Okay, let's get you cleaned up," Tori murmured, lifting him out of his high chair and carrying him to the sink. He squirmed in her arms, his cries growing louder as she tried to clean his face and hands.

"I know, baby, I know. We're almost done," she said, her patience wearing thin. As soon as she set him down, Riley threw himself on the floor, wailing at the top of his lungs.

Tori stared at him for a moment, unsure of what to do. She really didn't want to get a noise complaint. She had already been feeling off after the call with Luke, and now this. She needed help and Luke clearly wasn't an option right now. She picked up her phone, scrolling thorugh her favourited contacts until she got to John.

The phone rang twice before he answered.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Hey, um, are you busy right now? Riley's having a rough start to the day, and I could really use some help," she admitted, her voice dripping with desperation.

There was a pause on the other end before John responded, "Yeah, I can come over. Give me 20 minutes."

"Thank you, J. I really appreciate it."

"Don't worry about it. I'll be over soon."

Tori hung up and looked down at Riley, who had moved onto his back, his sobs becoming hiccups. She knelt beside him, brushing his curls from his eyes. "Daddy's coming, Ri. It's gonna be okay."

Riley sniffled, "Dada?"

"Yeah, Dada's coming." She knew she needed John's help today, but she couldn't help but wonder what Luke would think if he knew she hadn't called him. Surely he couldn't be upset, he'd said he was busy. He'd been "busy" a lot recently.

John arrived at Tori's apartment, the sound of Riley's wails echoed through the hallway. He could hear the frustration in Tori's voice as she tried to soothe their son. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door, mentally preparing himself for what he was about to walk into.

"Thank God you're here," she sighed, stepping aside to let him in.

John crouched down beside Riley, trying to get his attention. "Hey, big guy. What's going on?"

"Dada!" Riley cried, reaching out for John. His face was tear-streaked, and his eyes puffy from crying.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he soothed, picking Riley up and holding him close. But Riley continued to squirm, resisting his dad's hug.

"Riley, we're here, okay? Let's take a few deep breaths."

But he wasn't listening. He kicked out, hitting John in the stomach, and trashed in his arms trying to escape.

John winched, but held on, walking around the room with him. He was gently bouncing the toddler in another attempt to soothe him. "I know you're upset, buddy. It's okay to be upset, but we need to use our words."

"Look, Ri. It's Pooh bear. Do you want to hold Pooh bear?" Tori offered, holding up his favourite stuffie.

Riley shook his head, burying his face in John's shoulder, his body trembling from the aftermath of his tantrum. "You're okay, Ri-Ri. We're right here. Daddy's here."

It took a few more minutes, but Riley's sobs finally calmed into hiccups. His grip on John's shirt loosening as exhaustion took over his body.

"I think he's finally calming down."

"Thank you, John. I really couldn't deal with that on my own today."

"It's okay. This stuff is hard. But we're in this together, remember?"

Tori sighed and sat on the couch, motioning for John to join her. "I know. I just... I wasn't ready for the terrible twos. His first real toddler tantrum, I mean. I didn't know how to calm him down. And you're his favourite person."

"You did fine," John reassured, cradling Riley. "He's just overwhelmed and didn't know how to express it. We all have days like that."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I just hate seeing him so upset."

"Me too. But he's okay now, and that's what matters."

As Riley settled into a deep sleep in John's arms, the room grew quiet. Tori watched John cradle their son, his hand gently brushing through Riley's curls. The tenderness in John's actions stirred something in her--a familiar warmth she hadn't felt in a long time. She was so grateful for John's help, but seeing him like this, being so good with Riley, brought back memories she thought she'd moved past.

John looked up and met her eyes. There was something in his gaze that made her heart skip a beat. Without thinking, Tori leaned forward, her eyes flickering to his lips. John noticed, and in the heat of the moment, he closed the gap between them. His lips pressed gently against hers. The kiss was soft, lingering, filled with longing and familiarity.

For a moment, Tori kissed him back, all the good times from their relationship flooding her mind. But as quickly as it happened, reality crashed back in. She pulled away, her mind spinning with guilt.

"I--I shouldn't have done that."

"Tori..."

She shook her head, standing up quickly. "No, John. This isn't right. I'm with Luke. I... I shouldn't be kissing you."

"Tori, I know you're with Luke, but I can't pretend I don't care about you."

"It can't mean anything, John. I'm trying to move forward, to build something new. I can't go back."

"I-"

"I think it's best if we forget this happened."

She knew she had crossed a line, one that could complicate everything with Luke, but there was no undoing that she had just done.

"If that's what you want, Vic. But you can't ignore what's still there between us."

She didn't respond.

"Let me take Riley to his room," John offered. Tori nodded, watching as John carefully carried the toddler to his room. As she heard the soft click of Riley's bedroom door closing, she sank back into the couch.

"I'll head out now. But, Tori... if you need anthing. Call me," John said, standing near the front door.

"I know, John. Thanks. I mean it."

He gave her a nod, and turned to leave her with her thoughts. She couldn't deny the kiss, or the feelings that it stirred. But she was scared--scared for what it would mean for her and Luke, and what it might mean for the future she was trying to build.

[ninguitar]

୨୧　GUESS　˒˒　AU ( PT.1 )

─── ﹙🎱﹚with the label of "casual" put on yours and giselle's relationship, all you could do was continue it, which meant letting your feelings linger, or break it off completely, but fuck, was it difficult with aeri uchinaga being just so, her. INSPIRED BY GUESS BY CHARLI XCX FEAT. BILLIE EILISH.

pairing. aeri uchinaga x f!r genre. angst wc. 800+ notes. wooo second fic !!! didn't mean to make it so angst n stuff but oops 💔💔 a little suggestive. may add a part2 that's more fluff depending on the poll's results at the end of the fic. (MASTERLIST)

now playing ⋆ guess by charli xcx feat. billie eilish

YOU WERE SO, SO SCREWED. you didn't know how it happened, really; one moment, you were splayed over her lap, then the next, you were on her bed.

the fine line between just friends and more than friends start to blur as you and giselle begin to "unethically" sneak around when the sky became a dark, midnight hue—marking the time to meet up with the girl. these casual yet intimate rendezvous between the two of you only sparked your desire—your need—to see giselle.

everything starts to blur into one big mix of everything yet also nothing all at once, from the way giselle's hand meets your front door, knocking on it ever-so-gently, to the way her hands snake around your waist, as she grumbles some bullshit about her long, boring day of work.

her teeth crash against yours with a fervor that has you melting and your knees trembling. giselle breathes out, "missed you—missed this s'bad," as a low, throaty chuckle escapes her breath, her manicured nails trailing against your arms. at this point, your head almost reels at giselle's words, the two of you like fucking magnets.

sprawled up on the bed, you mumble, "yeah, yeah, me too. just- i'm a little busy y'know, from school and shit." you lie, your breath hitching. your hands meet the front of giselle's chest, distancing her away from you.

it doesn't help that giselle's hand curls around your wrist, pulling you closer, as a pout plays on her face and that familiar, smug lilt of hers repeats in your head, "please, let me stay the night?" to which, you meekly nod, too entranced by the japanese girl, "what's got you so busy anyway? a new boy, girl, whatever?"

"i've just been so swamped with assignments," you quickly blurt out, a little too quickly, when giselle inches herself closer to you, settling herself onto your lap. you could practically feel your heart pump out of your chest, as you run a hand through your hair.

nodding, giselle sighs, "so swamped that you haven't found the time to see me?" she teases, prodding at your cheek. this was the first time you guys had been alone for weeks, and god was it exhilarating. her slender fingers toy with the waistband of your sweatpants, as she remarks, "already know what you've got going on down there."

"shut up, gi," a giggle escapes your throat, as though you were a middle school girl crushing. your hands find themselves in giselle's tresses, entangling them. giselle presses a heated kiss against your jawline, almost eagerly, as you let her. before you knew it, her lips were against yours, her tongue easily slipping in.

"y'know, i'm starting to think that you just don't wanna see me, and that just, wounds me," giselle dramatically laments, her tone laced with venom and mockery. the japanese girl snorts at your dumbfounded expression before quickly giggling, "i'm just jokin' around, relax, pretty girl."

god, that nickname makes your heart ache, with how much you wish you could just simply deny her, and tell the girl that you couldn't do this anymore.

you meekly shake your head, "i know, i know, aeri." shrugging, you run a hand through her tresses, scratching her scalp.

"you're so uptight now, y'know that? it's like you're purposely avoiding me," giselle sighs, to which, you frantically shake your head.

"i'm not, gi. like i said, i'm swamped," you shrug, trying to play everything off, as you lean back against the bed's headboard.

"sure doesn't seem like it," the japanese girl huffs, folding her arms against her chest, before she continues, "i mean, you always walk away whenever you see me anywhere, avoiding me like the fuckin' plague.

you almost scoff at giselle's mention of that incident, snapping, "so what? i'm not obligated to wave at you in public. we're just casual like you agreed to—whatever that means."

"that- that's what's got your panties in a bunch? god, i knew you'd be like this, y/n—all sentimental and shit. we agreed to be casual, collectively, not just me," giselle retorts, rolling her eyes, "this is bullshit."

the japanese girl huffs, as she rolls herself off the bed, rubbing her temples. she sighs, "if you thought we were more than that, that's on you, y/n." sure, giselle felt pity for you—just a little bit—but it wasn't like you didn't know what you were getting yourself into; you knew it was solely casual, and that was addressed at the start.

but god forbid you fall in love with a girl like giselle—one hell of a girl, even.

the following week without giselle was hell; all you could do was let yourself be swallowed by your emotions, your back plastered against your bedsheets all day—the same bedsheets that giselle always laid on. how could you be so codependent on giselle? you always knew you were just so codependent on her, yet you never knew why.

it's the lacy black pair with the little bows,

the ones i picked out for you in tokyo.

taglist. ୨ৎ @yoohtonyy @yeetaberry127 @ourlovesarang @multiliker

@eunzkkrua @le3-r1n @imfearlessblog

[iguana-eyanna]

To Have A Home

Pairing: Jack Reacher x Reader

Summary: Reacher never thought the white fence dream could ever happen to him, but you proved him wrong in more ways than possible.

Reacher got out of his pickup truck, taking out a few grocery bags. He stares at the house that he built from the ground up, inhaling the fresh air.

His footsteps could be heard from a mile away, as tiny footsteps were heard at the front of the wooden porch.

"Dad!" Reacher's oldest son, Georgie, screamed as he ran fast towards him.

Reacher smiled as he knelt down, the 7 year old running towards him.

"Hey bud! Oof, you're getting strong kid. You almost knocked out your old man." Reacher replied, carrying him in his free arm.

"Really Dad? I could be just as strong as you?" Georgie asked.

"Unless you eat all of your vegetables, Georgie, you can be just as big and strong as your father." A voice replied.

Reacher looks up sees you holding your four year old son, Mason, as you wore your signature summer dress that curved perfectly around your pregnant 6 month pregnant belly and barefoot.

Jack thought you were beautiful standing there.

He carried both his son and the groceries with ease as he walked towards the porch, giving you a sweet kiss.

"Hi," He said sweetly.

"Hey," You said, smiling.

One thing about Reacher was that he kept you feeling like a school girl falling in love for the first time. He never made you doubt his love for you and would move the sun just cause you asked him to.

You two walked inside as the kids ran to the living room, playing with their toys. You and Reacher went to the kitchen to prepare for dinnerr.

You began washing the vegetables in the sink while Reacher was getting the ingredients. Soon, you felt a pair of arms around your waist as Reacher's palm covered your belly. He kissed the side of your neck as you felt his prickly beard that he was growing out.

"How was work?" He asks as you place a loving hand on his cheek.

"It was good, had some important clients to meet today for the pitch."

"That's great. I'm so proud of you." He says, kissing your cheek.

Before you two started your family, Reacher said that he wanted to be a stay-at-home dad as he truly wanted to leave his scarred past. He would have never asked you to leave your profession, and you two have lived peacefully raising your kids.

"The boys didn't make any trouble? I would have taken them to the store."

"No, they knew not to mess with Mama Bear. I think they just give you a hard time on purpose."

Reacher fake gasps as he twirls you around.

"Are you saying they favor you over me?"

"Well, I did give birth to them and now pregnant with their sister so... Yes."

Jack throws a hearty laugh as he holds you as close as he can.

"and I'll remind you every day for making me a father to these great kids. I love you, Mrs. Reacher."

"and I love you, Mr. Reacher."

You two kissed as you tip-toed to reach his lips.

"Ewwwwwwwwww." Both your sons said in unison. you two look back and chuckle as your boys look at you two.

"Come here so we can give you kisses!" You teased.

"Noooooo!!!!" They screamed, running away as Jack chased them into the house as you followed.

Soon after eating dinner, both of your boys were sleeping in both your arms as all of you were watching a movie on the couch. Jack reached for the remote and turned off the TV.

"Let's take them to bed hon-"

He stops as he sees you snoring lightly as you hold Georgie. Reacher smiles as he slowly gets up picks up Mason and Georgie and tucks them in bed. He returns for you and carries you with ease back in the master bedroom.

He lies next to you as you slowly open your eyes, realizing where you are, and smile at him.

"I thought of a name today, for the baby."

"Oh yeah? What is it?" He asks.

You scoot closer to him, placing your head by his chest as his heartbeat soothed you.

"Sky Reacher. I want her to know that she's able to reach for the sky."

Jack smiles brightly and kisses the top of your head.

"I love that name."

Jack couldn't believe it. In the past several years, all he carried along with him was the clothes on his back and a toothbrush. And now, he's lying in bed with a gorgeous, hard-working woman who mothered his children.

This is what it must feel like to have a home.

[lovelybee666]

FLUFF ALPHABET DOGDAY

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

I already published it in one of my first writings but so that they don't bother to see it, they both play hide and seek, tag, maybe truth or dare, etc.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

He thinks everything about you is beautiful, from your eyes to your your toes (if you even have toes or feet).

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

If you are sad he tries to cheer you up either by giving you physical or verbal affection, drawing, talking, watching something, whatever cheers you up.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

It sounds strange but he would like to have a family (he knows he can't 😞) he would like to see you and him with his little children but since he can't, he use his stuffed version as one and depending on how you are, you will play along or try (don't even think about telling him that it's stupid of him or I swear I will come to your house with a gun 👹 /j)

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

He's in the middle 👍 there's not much to say honestly

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Look, I don't know what happened but it was probably your fault😒(just joking) their arguments probably don't go beyond a few raised voices, the second the discussion ends there are two options, the first is that he run to you and apologize or that he is lecturing himself with his tail down.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

He is VERY grateful and even thanks for things he shouldn't(I'm sorry this is short, I couldn't think of anything)

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Imagine there is a door, that door symbolizes honesty now look at Dogday's door that door is so open that the door flew away and the frame too.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

I'm already doing a hc of him jealous so this will be more summarized and shorter, It's difficult for him to get jealous since he trusts you TOO much but if he is jealous he will try to get your attention hugging you and saying your name over and over again.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

The first kiss was okay although he had never kissed so at first it was a little awkward, as time went on his kissing skills improved(he definitely didn't ask Bubba, Cickin and Bobby for advice☺️ DEFINITELY)

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

He was nervous, he asked Catnap if he could come and support him, he complied as a good friend and he was a little far away but behind you with a sign that said "YOU CAN DO IT, DOGDAY!" or said what Dogday was supposed to say because he probably forgot(I promise to make a more detailed version soon in the not too distant future).

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

He wants to marry you but since you and him are toys you can't but still in some creative way you got married, they used a fabric that they found with the help of Crafty and they got married, it was actually something funny and adorable to see (YOU DEFINITELY WORE THE SUIT AND DOGDAY THE WEDDING DRESS‼️‼️) by the way, the ring was some donut-shaped gummies.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

I already made a post about it but I wanted to make a little update here by adding "angel" and "star"

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

It's VERY obvious, just watch him for a few seconds and you'll see how when you're close he moves his tail and seems happier, he stops what he's doing and comes to greet you giving you a hug while his tail moves at a thousand miles an hour, he's not sure if he's in love, he confuses his feelings and thinks maybe he just loves you as a close friend (spoiler, it wasn't)

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

He's a big fan of PDA and even once probably shouted from somewhere quite long how much he loved you(a worker or Miss Delight scolded him because the children were supposed to be sleeping at that time), He loves to hold your hand and kiss your nose, he probably emphasizes 24/7 that you're dating him, he is very proud to know that you are dating him, If you are not a fan of PDA, he respects it and when you are alone he gives you a lot of kisses on the cheeks and hugs you.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

There's not much to say but technically you're second in command for dating the guy who's the leader👍 IDK MAN

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

He is cliche AND creative, He likes to do very cliché but very creative things at the same time, They are going to have a date with red petals and candles, yes, but instead of candles they will be candles with fun shapes, the petals will be daisies (clearly I don't get them from a destroyed Daisy) and the chairs are chairs of frogs, he likes to do the same things that are romantically cliché but at the same time add things that have nothing to do with it or make it chaotic.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

ABSOLUTELY YES, it will help you in anything, believe 100% that you can achieve any goal you have.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Every day he do something new with you, one day you are looking some ants working and the next you are creating a base to protect yourself from a non-existent deadly virus that he created with you.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Depending on who you are, he probably knows a lot about you and is quite empathetic (I couldn't think of anything here, I'm sorry)

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

For him you are the most important thing in his life, his top is probably

3. Humans

2. His friends

1. You

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

When you give him the cold shoulder after an argument he goes to Catnap and Catnap has to deal with his best friend crying because you don't listen to him

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Y E S He is very affectionate although obviously there are days when he is less affectionate.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

He will be looking for things that remind him of you and hugs them while waiting for you to appear.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

He is willing to do almost anything for the relationship, his only limits are attacking or killing someone for obvious reasons.

I FINALLY FINISHED THIS, now I will have to do other pending things

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

A Quiet Neighborhood - Chapter 2

Pairing: Dave York x f!reader Words count: 4180 Rating: + 18, MDNI Tags: POV second person, reader is female with female genitalia, wears dresses, heels and a bikini, has hair that can be tied up in a bun/ponytail, no other description is given, she doesn’t blush, smut, angst, kissing, dirty thoughts, masturbation, use of a sex toy, mention of infidelity, kinda Desperate Housewifes coded (uh, don’t judge, I love it), easter eggs in secondary character’s names (so you can have fun guessing which series/film they come from 👀), neighborhood dynamics, Carol, Molly and Alice are there. Mention of food, alcohol consumption, mention of poker game, some reader's thoughts marked in italics, swearing, Dave is a fucking menace. This takes place right after Chapter 1. A/N: Dave is finally back! First of all thank you so much for the interest you have shown in this series, I didn't expect it and it made me really happy 🥹 I hope you like this chapter, I was planning to release it earlier but I struggled a little bit with my writing. English is not my first language, I apologize for any mistake. No beta, I reread it myself, I really hope it makes sense. I would particularly like to thank @arcanefox207 , @milla-frenchy and @aurorawritestoescape for their support, encouragement and kindness. Love you, girls ♥️

Chapter 1 | Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Coming out of the bathroom everything feels too loud, ringing voice of people, music, clanging of glasses, it's all too much to bear with when all you need right now is silence to make up with your overwhelming feelings spinning in your head like a carousel gone wild.

“I need to get out of here” you think, heading toward the Horowitz' living room in brisk steps to retrieve your purse. 

Jane stops you in the track "Hey, where were you? We're having margarita, would you like some?"

You see him. behind Jane’s shoulder, through the door to the outside. He's back in the garden to his wife, holding an arm around her waist with a relaxed expression on his face, as if nothing has happened.

"I-uh-" 

"Just sip this time, don't throw it down like you did before" Jane looks at you amused "I don't want to hold your hair while you vomit in one of Walkers' fancy bathrooms"

You nervously laugh then you look at him again and it's infuriating, the way he just goes on with his life while you feel like you've been hit by a train.

Fucking worthy of an Oscar.

The temptation to go home takes you for a moment but then looking at him smiling seraphically you think, “Fuck it, I don't see why I should ruin my day for him.”

So you follow Jane into the garden to join the others.

“If he can play it cool I can too” you think ”nothing a nice margarita can't fix.”

You walk past him and see that he and his wife are talking to Edie and her new boyfriend.

He doesn't even look at you, as if you are back a figure in the background with the others.

Which actually makes sense; the opposite would be much stranger since in the eyes of everyone you are nothing more than mere neighbors.

“Dave, look, Carol left lipstick on your lips,” you hear Edie say giggling as you sit at the table with your friends, ”you two lovebirds, you're still so cute after so many years of marriage.”

You feel your heart jump into your throat but you try to maintain composure outside and greeting Susan and Emma that just arrived “fuck” you think, cursing Edie and her big mouth “Now she's going to realize it's not her lipstick, God, I'm so screwed”.

You talked to her before but now in your panic you can't even remember what lipstick she was wearing.

You smile quizzically at Gabby who hands you one of the margaritas a waiter just left at your table but you perk up your ears to catch whatever they're saying; for a moment it's all silent until you hear Carol's crystalline laughter.

You barely turn to observe them out of the corner of your eye as you take a sip of your cocktail and see that Carol is wearing a lipstick very similar to yours. You're not a church girl but right now you're literally praying that one stupid kiss doesn't make you the laughingstock of the neighborhood.

Damn you, Dave.

Carol pulls a tissue out of her purse and hands it to him.

Okay, she’s quiet. Or at least she seems to be.

And who would ever connect me and Dave anyway?

You shake yourself out of your thoughts when you hear Jane call your name “hey! are you still with us?”

You smile “yes, sorry, I was thinking about work, you know that presentation I have to give on Monday” and you squeeze into your shoulders “what were you saying?”

Jane rolls her eyes “ugh, work. I was saying we're meeting tomorrow afternoon at my house for poker, are you coming?”

“Of course I'm coming, and I plan to tear you all apart!”

Jane, Gabby, Susan and Emma all say in chorus “we'll see about that!”You laugh and sip on your margarita again trying to appease your nerves, the liquid slide cool down your throat and you savor the citrusy flavor on your tongue thinking "it's good. it's all good. I will cut that Dave bullshit out of my life and everything will be great"

The rest of the afternoon passes pleasantly, you drink another margarita while chatting with your friends, you grab some snacks from the buffet so you don't risk forcing Jane to hold your hair in the bathroom, and you feel like you have regained some mental stability.

Dave is still here, looking like the perfect picture of a man trying to spend quality time with his beloved wife.

They talk to neighbors, they laugh, she holds a hand in his tracing small concentric circles on his back.

All smooth, I can't believe it, you sigh as you finish your second margarita.

Ms. Horowitz goes between tables to tell you that anyone who wants can take advantage of the pool, all your friends thank her saying they will do so shortly, and you reply, “Oh,I don't have my bathing suit with me,” wondering if anyone has ever told you to bring it. From the way Jane looks at you with an amused expression you guess that yes, she had told you but you completely forgot in your frenzy to look good in front of Dave in your new shoes.

Being in a bathing suit in front of him is not something you could afford to contemplate and you can't do it now either so you try to shy away from her invitation as politely as you can, but Mrs. Horowitz presses you, “that's no problem, dear, we have dozens of bathing suits for our guests!”

“Of course. I forgot that if they wanted to they could swim in a pool full of money like Scrooge McDuck.”

At this point you can do nothing than accept.

Carlos and Rafael managed to disengage under the guise of joining Mr. Horowitz and other neighbors in the living room to watch whatever is going to be on the sports channel. And these are the moments when you wish you were someone who knows about sports.

“You can go to the pool house and change there, you will find swimsuits and towels in the closet,” Mrs. Horowitz chirps.

And so you do, you head for the pool house teetering on your new heels, thinking maybe you shouldn't swim at all because you're feeling a little tipsy.

“God, I really don't feel like it,” you say to Susan who is beside you, and she replies, ”oh come on, it will be fun!”

You already hear some splashing coming from the pool as you enter the little house.

It is luxuriously furnished like a real outhouse, there is a huge bed, a small kitchen, and a door on the right side that leads to a bathroom. Someone could actively live in here like a king.

Susan opens the closet that takes up the entire wall in front of the bed and finds dozens of bikinis and one-piece suits. “Jesus, they could open a swimsuit store with all this stuff.”

You laugh, tapping her on the side “make room” Susan pinches your arm “rude!” she sneers.

Emma, Jane and Gabrielle laugh. You choose a swimsuit as they take turns to change into the bathroom.

____________________________________

You walk out of the pool house wearing a black bikini, holding the towel wrapped around you. You chose the simplest model you could find that wasn't a one-piece swimsuit, because you always thought you looked like your grandmother in those.

You don't want to stand out but neither do you want to feel ridiculous at the idea of Dave seeing you.

You hope he has already gone home until you reach the pool and see him diving off the small diving board located on one of the short sides.

By now it's evening so several strings of small lights have been lit and hung directly above the pool like small fireflies floating in the air and scattered over the buffet and beverage gazebos.

There are also several garden street lamps around, but the small lights create an enchanting atmosphere.

Mr. and Mrs. Horowitz really know how to throw a great party.

Dave's back looks golden as you watch him disappear into the water, his muscles outlined by the play of light and shadow that refracts against them. You bury a howl inside as you steal a glance at his butt swaddled deliciously in red swimming shorts.

You sit on a lawn chair, fully intending to stay there, while your friends put their towels down and go for a dip in the pool.

It's still warm for fall, today in particular, so you don't mind the thing itself, but showing yourself to Dave like this? That's a whole other matter.

The whole neighborhood is there but you literally feel like only he can see you, because that's the only look you care about and might feel judged by.

Your friends wave at you from the other side of the pool, even calling your name so you listlessly drop the towel on the deck chair and walk to the edge, wetting your feet in the cool water.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Dave go underwater, you follow his movements, and see him come up right in front of you.

“Fuck” you think

“Hi,” he says in a low voice as you wonder where his wife is. You answer him by mumbling a “hello” as you look around for her. Carol is sitting on a lawn chair, wearing a white one-piece bathing suit and matching sarong, and sipping cocktails with one of your neighbors. She is quite distant and seems very engrossed in the conversation, so you finally allow yourself to look at Dave.

He's still in the water, leaning against the edge below you.

He runs a hand through his hair to pull it back, small droplets sliding down his perfectly chiseled jaw to the column of his neck and down his broad chest until they die at the water's edge.

Your friends call your name loudly as he rests both hands on the edge and rises effortlessly beside you. You don't look at him, you keep your gaze fixed on Jane and the others as you hear the sound of water sliding over his body and falling back into the pool, a few drops hitting you in the process. He is beside you, completely wet, wearing only shorts. You’re petrified, trying to govern your emotions and especially your facial expressions “stay calm stay calm stay calm” you repeat to yourself as you hear his voice whisper “you look so fucking sexy in that bikini. I wish I could fuck you right here right now” just before he walks over to the loungers.

He didn't turn around, he didn't make eye contact with you, no one would say he even noticed you, and he spoke so softly that no one could have heard him but you. You heard him loud and clear, and his rough voice went and settled directly between your legs on your wet pussy.

You hastily dive into the pool feeling your cheeks on fire.

“Fucking Dave and his fucking flirting.”

_________________________________________

First thing you do when you come home is to take off your shoes throwing on the carpet in your living room.

By now you are no longer tipsy; swimming in the pool has definitely helped you get sober again.

And Dave.

Dave who ignored you pretty much the rest of the evening but infiltrated your brain like a disease.

You know you can't get your hopes up, you know that this thing between the two of you will have no future, and you also know that you don't like being a home wrecker.

I am just an escape from his marriage, a sleazy adventure, a little toy to entertain him.

And yet, you still want more.

Your body unfortunately doesn't care about morality right now, it reacts to every image of him imprinted in your mind, Dave is Pavlov's bell and you are the drooling dog.

Lingering in fantasies about him hurts, but there is a desperate part of you that still feels his hips grinding against yours, the taste of his tongue, the warmth of his big hands on you.

And his body next to yours when he got out of the pool, how you could smell the scent of his skin mixed with chlorine, how you could still feel the warmth of his body despite being completely wet, water dripping down his legs pooling at his feet.

You can stay here a little longer, just a little while longer without hurting anyone, before you turn the page.

You shuffle into your room with your head in the clouds, open your night stand drawer almost without thinking, pull out your dildo and lie on the bed. You loop your dress around your waist without even bothering to take it off, just enough to get rid of your bra and your panties.

You let the dildo glide over your body, shivering at the feel of the cool plastic on your tits, brushing against your nipples.

The low rasp of his voice still in your mind, graveling like an echo in your brain “you look so fucking sexy in that bikini”

It was the first time you saw him like that, you happened to see some exposed skin as he mowed the lawn, even lifting up his shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead once he was done but what you saw today? Nothing compares with it.

His fully exposed torso, the darting muscles of his back as he dove, how his arms flexed as he leaned over the edge of the pool. There is something obscene about seeing people completely wet, a primal instinct awakening, the water slipping and hugging the curves of his body, the droplets of water glistening on his skin, the wet shorts glued to his body that barely suggested the shape of him.

You shut your eyes and suddenly it’s his cock wiping on your hardened buds, tip slapping and teasing, brushing on your skin just right, red and swollen and already leaking.

You can think it’s real, it feels so real, his hand roaming on your body, pulling your dress up, get it out of the way to dispose of you as he wants.

Big strong hand gripping on your inner thighs, his fingers rising higher on your skin, making you whimper in anticipation.

Your cunt aching tremendously, unrestrained and starving.

His big cock grazing your swollen labia, parting them and then sliding entirely over your center, his tip slamming against your clit, mingling your essences in an overwhelming arousal that runs through you all.

And then he pushes inside, deeper and deeper in the most intimate part of you.

And that’s it.

You are fucking away all your bad omens, lying to your hands sinking into the flesh of your thighs, your heart pounding behind your ribcage, your hips swaying against the rubber dildo, pushing them away to suppress them. All frenzy and delirium as it is his cock kissing your cervix, stretching your walls, pulsing and dripping inside you.

You can’t stop, angling the dildo so that it brushes against your swollen clit pumping incessantly into your core, creaming the entire length of your dildo, your legs obscenely spread, your body torn apart by every thrust, your hungry pussy sucking in, contracting, devouring every inch without finding peace.

"I wish I could fuck you right here right now"

Your free hand rises on your tit, your fingers latched on your pebbled nipple, pulling and twisting until you feel your brain leaking from your pussy.

Your orgasm breaks inside you, vibrating in and out of your body, quivering on your sweaty skin, taking your breath away. You come thinking of him completely wet from head to toe on top of you, your flesh colliding, your bodies merging, in a desperate, relentless rush toward the brink.

And you can't get enough, so you don't stop as the first orgasm washes over you, your swollen, slippery cunt keeps frantically gripping around the dildo, your hands keep thrusting it in, torturing your nipples, it's like you're trying to quench your thirst once and for all.

The way he ignored you afterward makes you want to have him even more, to break through his stoicism and trigger an outburst in him as much as your own.

It's twisted, wrong, immoral and you don't care a bit. 

You fall into a deep sleep, having come repeatedly, Dave being all that's left in your head.

______________________________________

Morning light flutters on your eyelids forcing you to open your eyes to another day.

You grunt, feeling your incredibly aching pussy, and realize your dildo is still inside you.

The stretch is here to remind you your guilt, the frenzy that took you last night, the feeling of being just one inch away from slipping into something dangerous.

You pull it out cautiously, feeling your essence slip out of you, soaking your inner thigh, the sticky mess of your desire for him dribbling silently over your skin.

Your pussy tightens around nothing, pulsing to the void, deprived of something, swollen and tried.

The dress from the night before is still crumpled around your body, crumpled and damp with your sweat and arousal at the hem. You get out of bed feeling like a rag doll, drag yourself into the bathroom and look in the mirror. Mascara has run down your cheeks, your lipstick smudged, an exhausted and defeated expression on your face.

You look like a total disaster, matching your feelings.

This morning, in the sunlight, you are furious with yourself. Why did you let this married man condition you so much? You spent $350 on a pair of shoes just because he told you they'd fit you, what the fuck is wrong with you?

You have to stop before it takes a turn for the worse and you find yourself crying for him.

There's no way it will end well.

You take off your makeup, take a shower, and change into a pair of sweatpants and an old Pearl Jam T-shirt you got at a concert a million years ago.

You clean and tidy your house, then Jane calls to have your confirmation to meet at 3 p.m. at her house.

Having a fun afternoon with your friend will help, you think.

You don't look out the window toward his house even once, you simply pretend it doesn't exist.

After changing into a pair of jeans and a white top, you head towards Jane’s house at the end of the road, your eyes straight to her house without your usual wandering and sneaking through your neighbor’s windows.

You are able to shut down your brain concentrating on poker and your friend and it all goes smooth until you hear Susan say, “Did Edie call you to gossip about the Yorks?” And you all turn to look at her, you with your heart leaping in your chest like an acrobat.

“Really? Was it only me who had this pleasure?” she says, rolling her eyes.

“Why, what happened?” Jane asks as she shuffles the cards for the next hand.

“According to her, Dave has an affair. But you know how Edie is, I mean-”

"And how can she say that?" Gabby widen her eyes, getting all excited. You love her dearly but she’s almost as gossipy as Edie sometimes.

"She says Dave disappeared at the party and then came back with some lipstick on his mouth."

“What?” you all exclaim, as you try with all your might to feign surprise.

“Yes, and then she says Carol pretended nothing happened but according to Edie there is something going on because you know - she says that lipstick seemed slightly different from the one his wife was wearing”

“Well that also depends on lips natural color,” Jane tries to intervene, usually she's the one who instead tries to quell the rumors. You are thankful that she maintains her attitude even now, all while your other friends cut her off squeaking “oh my God!” And Gabby, who sits right next to you put a hand on your arm “Jesus, can you believe that?”

“Actually no” you shrug “I mean…they seem so close-hearted”

“Well, honey, I'm sorry to tell you but not all that glitters is gold” Gabby scoffs.

“Even if it was true - and with Edie I wouldn't put my hand on it because she was really tipsy and then well...she's Edie” Jane admonishes “it's none of our business”

“God, he would be such a scam though. And to think I kinda considered him incorruptible” Emma sighs and you all nod.

You never mentioned your crush, not even to the friends.

No one ever saw you two talk for more than a few minutes and only of mundane arguments, totally out of courtesy and being good neighbors.

Fuck. It has to end before anyone finds out.

The bullet missed you by a whisker but you know you can't play with fire.

“Then you wonder why I haven't found another boyfriend yet!” You playfully snap, just to look more unsuspicious.

You hate lying to your friends, but you are relieved when you see them nodding.

Jane urges, “Come on let's play, we've talked enough about this.”

The afternoon flows nicely, Jane and Gabi argue over points as usual, you all laugh, and by the end you feel better, really better.

Yesterday was crazy, but I can get through it, you think.

When you get home you order a pizza and eat it on the couch watching a horror movie. You don't think about him for the rest of the evening, until you get under the covers and a flashback of him pushing you against the bathroom tiles flashes before your eyes. You squeeze them hard, trying to banish the image from your mind.

________________________________________

Monday morning at the office hits you in the face, you have a lot of work to do but you've never been so happy to keep busy so you don’t complain. Anything goes as long as you don't think about him.

Your agency has just acquired a big client for whom you'll have to manage a marketing campaign, there's a lot of pressure but by the end of the morning you feel like you and the rest of the team have come up with the right idea, which makes you relieved.

At lunchtime you go out to get a sandwich. It's a beautiful sunny day, there’s a little wind that caresses your face and moves the tree canopies along the road. You're glad you've been able to focus, you really care about doing a good job and making a good impression on your demanding boss in light of a promotion you'd like to get.

You will slowly return to your usual life and what happened will remain a sporadic episode without consequences. That's the best thing for everyone.

You walk into the diner and get in line to order a sandwich.

You greet Sarah, the girl at the counter, with whom you've been chatting since the first day you were hired at your agency.

You order the usual and come out humming and feeling some lightness at last.

You walk the short distance to your office, and the moment you push the door open you feel a gaze on you, like in déjà vu. You turn to look at the street, and see no one, just a black car that takes off quickly, speeding down the empty road. For a moment it looks like Dave's. You blink your eyes and shake your head, feeling lost.

It's like you've taken one step forward and three steps back.

It will take much longer to eradicate him from your mind, and living in the same neighborhood across the street from each other certainly won't help.

You come home tired, you managed to do a good job despite the thought of Dave that kept pounding in your head all afternoon, at least you can be satisfied with that.

You park in your driveway and out of the corner of your eye you see Carol loading suitcases into a cab.

Shit, what's going on? Was Edie right? Did they really have a fight? Is she leaving him?

You start toward your door but then stay on the porch pretending to rummage through your purse for your keys.

You see Dave leave the house with his daughters, he helps Carol with the heaviest suitcase and they briefly say something you can’t hear. You hold your breath for a signal, something that will let you know what they’re doing, but it all seems neutral, calm, no drama, no screaming fight in the middle of the street. Typical of them, you think, they would never do that in front of their daughters anyway.

Molly and Alice hug their father and happily get into the taxi, sitting in the back, Alice holding a doll which she places next to her on the seat.

Carol kisses Dave on the cheek and climbs into the cab with the girls. As you watch them leave your mind is filled with question marks, it didn't seem like a traumatic departure but you know they are the best at keeping up appearances. And deep down, what do you really know about Carol and Dave? What really happens when the doors are closed and they are far from the rest of the world? Are they really the perfect family they pretend to be?

Dave is on the sidewalk waving to the cab pulling away, as soon as it's far enough away he turns to look at you and winks.

Series tag list:

@penascigarette @syd-djarin @almostempty @aurorawritestoescape @joelalorian @milla-frenchy @baronessvonglitter @cas-readsandwrites @sunnytuliptime @foreveratlantica-blog @peppermintfury @drewharrisonwriter @indiegirlunited @darkheartgatita @untamedheart81 @missladym1981 @rosebuds-and-moonlight

If you want to be added or removed, just let me know, thank you so much for reading ♥️

[nats-bottom]

NR - I Never Get Jealous Pt. 2

Summary: Part two of "I Never Get Jealous". Reader wants to have sex with Natasha, but Natasha stops before anything can happen. She stops because they are both drunk, and knows that drunk consent is not real consent.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff and Reader

Warnings: Drunkenness, a little angst

Notes:

I also have accounts on Wattpad and AO3! The users there are @ paige_vers

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Natasha POV

I open the door to our shared room and see y/n there on the bed, clad in a matching lingerie set. I close the door behind me and walk up to her, smashing our lips together.

I put my hands around her waist, and rub up and down on her sides. She puts her arms on my shoulders and her hands around my neck. I run my fingers around her back and rest them on the small of her back. I use my nails and scratch her lightly, making her gasp. I use this as my chance to slide my tongue into her mouth. I start with licking her lips, and slowly I slip inside her mouth, exploring the inside of her mouth. She moans at this, which only turns me on even more. I meet her tongue in her mouth, and they fight for dominance, which of course I win. We continue this dance for a little more, until she starts to play with the strap on my dress. I continue to kiss her, but I know that I can't let this go anywhere. 

She slides the strap of my dress down off of my shoulder and pushes my dress down to my waist. She deepens the kiss by pulling my head closer to hers, her hands on the back of my head. I continue to lightly scratch up and down her back, but not hard enough to leave marks. 

Y/n starts to play with the straps of my bra, breaking the kiss only to look at me for consent. I look at her, and shake my head. She looks at me with shock in her eyes, a bit surprised. 

"Why?" she asks. "You seem so into it, why not?"

"Babe, we're drunk. You know that I can't do this, we can't do this. I can't take advantage of you like this." I say softly, caressing her cheek with the back of my hand. 

"But it's okay. I want this." She replies sadly.

"Baby, you're drunk, and I'm drunk. I just can't do this to you. Not tonight. I'm sorry." I say, this time with a little more seriousness in my voice. She toys with my bra strap again, which tells me that she did not hear what I said. I put my hands on hers, and move them down in my lap, but not before kissing them first. 

"Y/n/n, you may want this now, but I don't know if you really want this. I just can't do that to you." She nods, but I can tell that she still really doesn't want to listen. 

"Fine. I guess you just don't want me then." She says bitterly. She takes her hands out of mine and lets out a huff. She turns away from me and looks at the wall.

I place a hand on your jaw and gently turn her face towards mine. "No that's not it at all. I just need you to understand that I just don't want to take advantage of you. I don't want you to not want this later on." I say seriously. "I do want you, I want you more than anything, and trust me, I want this too. But I know better. Please trust me on this." I say sincerely and look her in the eyes lovingly. "We can still cuddle though. Does that sound okay?"

"Yeah I guess." Y/n says disappointed. 

"Do you not want cuddles?" I ask, knowing she will want them anyway.

"No, no, no. I'll take them."

"Then let's get changed and all ready for bed. C'mon, I'll help you." I say, standing up and outstretching my hand to her. We get all ready for bed and I help her crawl into bed. I get into bed after her, pulling up the blanket on top of us. She snuggles her head into my neck, and I wrap one of my arms around her stomach. Our legs got tangled together, and I felt the warmth radiating off of her. 

"Will you sing to me?" y/n asks sweetly. I can tell that she's tired, almost asleep, so I sing a Russian lullaby to her.

As she falls off into her nightly slumber, I whisper in her ear, "I love you detka."