#wardrobe; dirty drawer

[delaware-lemme-smash]

Hii! May i request some headcanons were mt. lady, sir night eye, present mic, eraser and all might react to their s/o wearing their clothes after sex? Like if they didn’t have any clothes with them what weren’t… dirty so they stole some! Sorry if this is boring but I thought it was kinda cute :)

Hope you enjoy these, lovely!

Characters: Takeyama Yuu/Mount Lady, Sasaki Mirai/Sir Nighteye, Yamada Hizashi/Present Mic, Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead, Yagi Toshinori/All Might

Contents: gn!reader, mild nsfw

Takeyama Yuu/Mount Lady

Perhaps it was an impromptu tryst, because you’re at Mount Lady’s apartment and your only clothes are dirty. Perhaps your stuff got torn up in a fight with a villain and now you’ve come back to hers to ‘celebrate’, you find yourself left with nothing but your underwear. Perhaps not even that. 

You could sleep naked, but it’s not the most comfortable situation to be in. So you wander over to Yuu’s wardrobe (really a walk-in closet). She might only be a debut hero, but she’s very popular and spends a lot of time in the limelight. This translates to making absolute bank, and she spends a lot of it on beautiful clothes. Obviously, you’re not going to wear a gala dress to bed, so you grab a t-shirt that looks pretty old, and maybe a pair of yoga pants. 

Depending on your size compared to her, they might be fine, or they might be a tight fit. When she comes back into the bedroom, her skin gleaming from her nightly skincare routine, she stops in the doorway and pouts at you.

“If you stretch those out, you’re going to have to replace them.”

“...says the woman who turns into a titan?” The irony is too much for you.

“Only my hero costume stretches with me, duh.” A pause. “Your butt does look good in those yoga pants, though.”

Sasaki Mirai/Sir Nighteye

It would seem that if you’re dating Sir Nighteye, you’ve at least got some sense of planning and responsibility. But you’re only human, and sometimes you’re going to find yourself caught short. Short on clothes, in this case. Even if your clothes are clean, you couldn’t fathom sleeping in your work clothes.

You wait until Sir Nighteye is in the bathroom, brushing his teeth, before sneaking open one of his drawers and grabbing something at random. You end up with…

A pair of boxers and a vintage All Might t-shirt.

It’s hardly the sexiest of nightwear, but you make it work. He leans back into the doorway to tell you to borrow some clothing, and you’re lounging on his bed, all “Paint me like one of your French girls”. 

“I’ve been waiting for you~” you purr.

He nearly spits out his mouthwash, and disappears back into the bathroom to gather himself. You distinctly hear him chuckle under his breath, then clear his throat.

“If you want to entice me, darling, don’t wear the face of my former boss on your torso.”

Yamada Hizashi/Present Mic

Hizashi’s always trying to get you to wear his clothes, anyway! He drapes his little moto jacket (the casual one, not the studded one he wears as part of his costume) over your shoulders a lot and tells you how great you look. 

Seeing his partner wear his clothes just gives him this little kick and makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. 

You’ve got a variety of options in Mic’s wardrobe. In the t-shirt section, you’ve got a lot of band t-shirts, weird, bright coloured ones covered in fruit or English slogans, a few rare Eraserhead merch t-shirts he got done to piss off Aizawa, and if you want to borrow some boxers, you’ll be hard pressed to find some that don’t have a loud, zany pattern on them. 

If you want to be (moderately) sexy, grab a vintage band t-shirt and a pair of his black boxer briefs. If you want to make him laugh, grab the stupidest t-shirt you can find and pair it with an eye watering set of boxer shorts, especially if they have bananas on them. 

Hizashi grins wide enough to split his face in half at the sight of you in his clothes. It doesn’t matter if you went for sexy or stupid, really, because he’ll just try to get you out of them again, if you know what I mean~

Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead

This is one of those things that Aizawa doesn’t know he likes until he sees it for the first time. He’s probably dragged himself out of your post-coital snooze to get you both some water or feed the stray cat on his balcony, leaving you to ponder your clothing situation. 

When you open Aizawa’s wardrobe, it’s 75% loose black shirts and pants, with a few non-black items crammed at one end, including those infamous pink sweatpants. 

It seems he’s not totally averse to colour, just not when he’s working. He has a few t-shirts (gifts from Hizashi) covered in cats (as opposed to just covered in cat hair, like the rest). 

If you’ve cuddled him at all, which you have, thoroughly, you know that all his clothes are surprisingly soft and comfortable. He tends to end up with raggedy cuffs on his sleeves, but even so, the shirt has that soft texture clothing gets when it’s been washed many times. You dig out some random black shorts he has, though you’ve never seen him expose his pasty legs in public, so they must be old.

Shouta shuffles back into the room to find you asleep, curled up in your borrowed finery. There’s something about the sight of you lying in his bed, wearing his clothes, looking so warm and comfortable. It’s like a little gut punch of domesticity. 

“You’re meant to ask, you brat,” he says fondly, flopping onto the bed next to you. 

Still, he reflects, as he pulls you closer, that shirt’s gonna smell like you now. Maybe he should make you wear it every time you sleep over.

Yagi Toshinori/All Might

All Might’s still pretty nervous about being in a relationship so he’s not 100% sure of the protocol, especially when you’re at his place and you don’t have any clean clothes to wear to bed. He gets flustered and goes to see if he can quickly wash your clothes, forgetting the entire wardrobe of clean clothes right there.

All Might or Small Might, his clothes are going to absolutely drown you no matter what size you are. Toshi’s a titan. Any t-shirt you try to borrow is basically a giant nightshirt. 

Toshinori splutters a little at the sight of you swimming in the fabric of one of his shirts. Once he’s done coughing into his elbow, he offers you a toothy grin, his eyes crinkled up.

“That…might be a little big on you,” he says, tugging playfully on all the excess fabric. “Are you sure it’s going to be comfortable?”

You tell him that you like the feeling of the soft, loose fabric, and the fact that it smells a little like his cologne, even after being washed. He’s chuckles at that, wrapping his large hands around your waist, the fabric cinching in against you.

“Well, never thought one of my old shirts could look so adorable.”

[lordcrumps]

The Sims 2 For Rent - CC EXPANSION PACK

Sul Sul!

~ More photos under the under the cut ~

Last week the Sims 4 got a new pack, this week Sims 2 players get that same pack! In a collaboration with @platinumaspiration and @tvickiesims and a HUGE assist from @episims, we bring you "The Sims 2 For Rent CC Expansion Pack!"

This is a large set, and advisable that it does not get merged even further than it already is! - I ran into some issues when trying to do this!

When you explore this pack, please take a look at the marble ring rug, it has some surprisingly cute rug swatches! I put a swatch in it to remove the marbles themselves, so you have a cute small rug! - I only mention this as I was going to bin the rug off once uploaded, but then I found it had some lovely swatches!

FUNCTIONALITY

So most of the items will function as they should and intended as. Its just not just deco items.

There is two collection files included, separated into build buy! Please note that fences and stairs and spandrels cant be but into a collection!

The squatty toilet that took me over 12 hours to make, yeah they squat, animation can be a bit bouncy but such is life. This toilet also can be flushed, get dirty and is cleanable!

Outdoor plants are seasonal!

Counters are animated with insides built, there is no drawer on the counter, I did not want to change the shape of the unit, and saw EA did the same - ignore the fact they grab something from a non existent drawer

Wardrobes have interiors elements, and have working doors!

Each Kettle have two versions, choose only one, one for the colour traits mod / one 'normal'. They function as Tea makers! Huazzah!

Spandrels in build mode are classified as fences. I made a variant with fence / no fence.

Several of the larger deco pieces such as the Arch Gate, or umbrella are actually lights!

Radiators act like radiators!

The Aircon Unit is completely functional, doesn't lower bills, but it does lower sims temperatures!

"Water Heaters" act like solar panels, they get money off your bills!

The Electrical Fuse box has 2 versions, I kept them both in, one wall deco and one functions as a burglar alarm - I wanted more alarms.

Most Sofas / Chairs have morphs!

Slots added to the Vanity and Bathroom Cabinet!

FENCES / SPANDRELS / STAIRS OH MY!

I have included swatch images of each of the spandrels, fences and stairs and labelled them to match, this is so that you can go in and take out any of the swatches you do not want. This is because there are lot of new fences and the menu can feel cluttered with them in for some people.

DOWNLOAD

ALT - SFS

~ Credits / Thanks / List of items not converted under the cut ~

MORE PHOTOS

CREDITS

Mini fridge is cloned from Targa over at MTS - so now it works just like a regular fridge barring a few animations (get baby bottle and juggle)

Kettles were cloned from @pforestsims's kettle, link here.

@jacky93sims for the base of the squat toilet! Epi for the code edits!

THANKS

@tvickiesims, @platinumaspiration thank you soo much for helping with the objects, really couldn't do it myself!! Your amazing, awesome, and some of the best creators out there! Thank you again!

@episims - YOU ARE DA BOMB! Thank you for all your help in getting those toilets working with me, and everything else you do when you answer my little annoying questions! Appreciated like you wouldn't believe!

LIST OF ITEMS NOT CONVERTED - @sims4t2bb

Due to the sizing / functionality of these objects, they will not be included in this pack!

All Yer Fixins Untenable Food Stand

Mali's Moonlight Market Craft Stall

Vegan Vittles Night Market

Late Night Snack Dessert Stall

Rice to Meet You Night Market

The Unrestroom

Fisherman's Slats Window - Tall

The Secret Maze Window - Very Tall

The Secret Maze Window - Super Duper Tall

Stained Glass Tomarani Shutters - Tall

Stained Glass Tomarani Shutters - Tall and Open Wide

The Save Us From Ruin Tallest Cinched Wall Curtain

The How Many Times Do We Need To Tell You It's Not Silk Taller Wall Curtain

The We Are Going To Jail< Tallest Wall Curtain So You Know the Truth Curtain

[weakformingyu]

Wait for your love | H.HJ

Pairing: Hyunjin x reader

Part 2 to We can't be friends

Genre: angst, fluff

Summary: after sleeping with Hyunjin, you were dead set on getting over him, but who would've guessed it would be so difficult?

Words count: 3,329

Warnings: non

A/N: it took me a while but I'm finally here with the second part to this fic 🥳 I hope you guys enjoy it 🫶🏻

After leaving Hyunjin's house you stop at a random parking lot, crying your eyes out for almost an hour before calming down and going back home. You hate that everything inside your own house reminds you of Hyunjin, of course it does, he was always hanging out there with you and leaving his things behind so he wouldn't have to bother bringing it back when he'd sleep over.

Your bathroom is full of his skin care and his toothbrush is resting beside yours, his clothes are in your wardrobe, you even made the mistake of giving him a drawer so he could put his things on. You were too involved in the excitement of having his things there, like you were a couple, that way you could pretend that he loved you.

You feel dirty and disgusting, you want to rip your skin off and you almost succeed after staying so long beneath the shower, rubbing your skin like that could hide you of all your sins. You were only satisfied when your skin was red and aching, turning off the hot water and dressing up.

You take everything that's Hyunjin's and put it in a box, everything that he ever gave you goes inside there too and also anything that reminds you of him. You put it outside of your apartment, if you know your best friend well — and you do, he's going to show up in a couple of hours when he realizes that you were serious about everything you said. He's going to come after you, not because he loves you the way you want him to, but because he can't see you go, you're his best friend after all.

As if on cue, Hyunjin comes by later in the night, shocked to find all his belongings in a box outside, he thought you would calm down and regret about telling him you can't be friends, he thought he could show up on your door and you'd smile at him, saying that everything would be okay. Any hope he has goes down the drain after an hour of him knocking on your door, pleading for you to come out, for you to talk to him, but you won't, you can't look at him. You know you're going to cry in front of him and you can't give him that, not after he took everything else from you.

Hyunjin took your heart, took your love, took your peace of mind, but you can't let him take what's left of your dignity.

He doesn't give up, blowing your phone with calls and texts for an entire week, coming around twice a day to try and get you to talk to him but you stay firm on your decision, for the first time since you fell in love with him, you have the courage to let go and you're not going to give up on that.

When your mutual friends ask what's going on, you have to explain at least a bit of what happened to them. You don't disclose the extent of your humiliation, telling them you confessed to him and was rejected, choosing to be the petty girl who ended a friendship because the guy she loves didn't return the feelings rather than being the girl who was used and thrown away by the guy she loves.

They understood, mostly, everyone was already aware of your secret — that was only a secret for Hyunjin, since everyone else seemed to know about it.

Too soon, you have to meet him again. It's Jisung and Felix's birthday, you could have escaped if it was just one of your friends' parties but it's both of the most spoiled ones, they would never let you live it down if you didn't show up.

You put on a nice dress, get your hair done and delicately select your makeup. If you have to meet Hyunjin, at least you want to look pretty. You get to Jisung's apartment 30 minutes after the party starts, luckily there are already enough people for you to hide yourself and escape if needed.

Felix is the first to spot you in the crowd, smiling brightly and walking up to you. You hug him, wishing him a happy birthday and handing him the gift you bought him.

“Where’s Jisung?” You ask.

“He's probably in the kitchen, wanna go there?” Felix asks and you nod, following him.

You didn't expect to find Hyunjin there but it was just a matter of time before you crossed paths, so you suck it up and get closer, receiving a worried look from Felix as he mutters “sorry”.

You hug Jisung, giving him his gift and wishing him a happy birthday. You can feel Hyunjin's stare even if you don't look at him but you ignore him, listening as your friend tells you about the troubles they had while planning this party.

You excuse yourself after a while, walking in the middle of the crowd of people, trying to get away from the guy you so desperately wanted to avoid.

You open the door to the balcony and a wind gust meets your skin, making you shiver and messing your hair. At least now you can breathe.

The door behind you opens and you don't have to look to know who it is. You sigh, closing your eyes.

“I thought you would have gotten the hint that I don't want to talk to you”, you say, leaning down on the guardrail.

“You have to talk to me”, Hyunjin says, stepping closer to you, making you turn to look at him.

“I don't have to do anything!” You groan, “you lost the right to demand anything from me”

“Y/N, please”, he sighs, “I'm sorry that I slept with you and went back to Jisoo the next day. I shouldn't have done that knowing how it would affect our friendship”

“Well, you can't take it back”, you shrug.

The truth is that you're still miserable after losing your best friend and the man you love at once but know you're going to be even miserable if you have to stay by his side ignoring what you feel.

“What can I do to make it right? How can we go back to the way it was?”

You feel your heart ache and you want to cry, but you use every strength you have not to let him see you vulnerable again.

“Hyunjin, we can't go back to the way things were”, you inform him, “because the problem is not that you slept with me and then went back to Jisoo”

Hyunjin frowns, confused.

“What's the problem then?”

“The problem is that I'm in love with you”, you scoff bitterly. “I have been in love with you for so long and you never looked at me, not even once”, you look around, trying to avoid the tears of falling. “The problem is that I finally thought that you were going to love me back. But you didn't, it's not your fault that you don't love me, I know that. I just won't put myself in this miserable position of watching you happily in your relationships while I hurt, I won't”, you shake your head.

A moment of complete silence goes by, before you hear Hyunjin's shaking breath.

“I didn't know”, he whispers, brows knit together.

“I know you didn't”, you clarify, “and I'm sorry that our friendship has to end this way, but I decided to love me more than I love you”, that's everything you have to say to him, so you give him a last look before walking out of the balcony. You leave Hyunjin there, staring at the empty space you occupied a few minutes ago.

You go back home, shedding tears once more for the same person, however this time you're not feeling dirty, you feel relief. Maybe now you can finally get over him, maybe now you can find someone that's going to love you back.

You didn't think it would be so difficult to get over him, but not because you didn't try to though. You downloaded a dating app and went on dozens of dates, but you couldn't help but compare every man to Hyunjin. You never really had to force yourself to get over someone so you didn't know it would be this hard.

It also didn't help that you have the same friend group as the person you're trying to move on from, so even though they try to avoid talking about him, sometimes they let it slide and you just can't stand how their looks of pity fall on you the moment that Hyunjin is mentioned.

After another bad date, you decide that you're going to go out with your friends and get drunk, so drunk that you're going to be dragged out of the party. Is it good for you? No, but you are about to do just anything to clear up your head, to feel happy again.

Your best friend tells you about a new club that's opening in town, she doesn't have much trouble convincing you to go, you just want to have fun after all.

You start drinking even before going out, calling your uber after your second beer can. The club is not far from your apartment, so in less than ten minutes, you're already going inside with your friends.

The music is loud and the place is crowded, as expected. One of your friends swings by the bar while you and the others find a booth to sit while you wait. The red lights are making you a bit dizzy and you're feeling hot with so many people in the closed space.

The guys had invited you to go out tonight but they let you know beforehand that Hyunjin would be there too. You didn't even ask where they would go, declining the invitation instantly when your ex best friend's name came out of Jisung's mouth.

You promise that in a few months you'll be back to going out with them and probably okay with being in the same room as Hyunjin, but for now you just can't handle that, not when after a whole month you couldn't get rid of even 1% of your feelings for him.

You feel pathetic honestly, you pinned after him for so long, hurting while he was happy and not even when he treated you like trash were you able to put an end to this unrequited love.

Ari came back from the bar with a bucket full of ice and beers, you can already feel your hangover when you wake up tomorrow but you don’t really care, downing a whole bottle a moment after opening it. You dance with your friends, have nice looking guys flirting with you and laugh a lot with your friends telling you about their catastrophic experiences on their latest dates.

You go back to the booth after dancing for half an hour without stopping, your feet hurt so you decide to sit down for a bit but not without a cute guy following you close by, letting him whisper sweet nothings in your ear and promise things you’re sure he won’t be able to keep up with, but you’re having fun, it’s nice to feel desired. You kiss him, his hands wandering around your body with no restraints, you’re not drunk enough to let him do whatever he wants but also are not in the mood to tell him to stop. When you open your eyes to put some space between you and the guy, you see a shocked face staring at you not too far from your booth, you know that blond too well so you wave at Felix before it dies down in your brain that if he’s there then Hyunjin is too.

You look around, panicking, trying to find him like that would make a difference, when your eyes land on the man, he doesn’t even look the same. He has dyed his hair a wine color and cut it shorter than before. It's strange, you know how Jisoo loves his long hair.

When you find his eyes staring back at you, you avoid it, looking anywhere else. Fuck, you have to get out of there, suddenly you can’t breath. You start moving, collecting your things in a hurry and trying to get out of the booth, only stopping when you feel the grip on your wrist. You look behind to see the guy who was kissing you a moment ago.

“Where are you going?” He asks, not letting you go.

“I have to go”, it’s the only thing you’re able to say.

“What are you? Cinderella?” He mocks and you roll your eyes, shaking your arm to get away from him. “You can’t let me hanging”, he stares at you angrily.

“Fuck off”, you groan, “I’m going home”

“I can take you”, he suggests.

“I don’t want to go home with you”, you feel your heart start beating faster, reminding you that you have been holding your breath for a while.

“Are you kidding me?” He grabs your wrist even stronger.

“Hey”, you hear a voice behind you and again, you don’t have to turn back to know who it is. “She told you to let her go”, Hyunjin says.

“And what do you have to do with it? Mind your business”

“I’m her best friend, and I’m going to fuck you up if you don’t let go”, Hyunjin threatens, making you shudder to the tone of his voice, you don’t think you have ever heard him this mad before.

The guy huffs, letting you go and getting out of the booth, cursing under his breath until he disappears in the crowd.

“Are you okay?” You hear Hyunjin’s softly asking, but you feel like your heart is going to explode, beating like a hammer on your chest.

“I’m fine”, you answer, pushing him to the side while you put on your coat and walk out into the crowd, trying to find the exit.

You feel the freezing air hitting your face as soon as you open the back door, grabbing your phone on your purse and sending a message to your group chat to let the girls know you went home. You put your arms around yourself, trying to lessen the cold while you wait for your uber, when you feel another coat being put over your shoulders, making you look back, startled.

“Let me take you home”, Hyunjin asks, making you huff.

“Is it so difficult to just leave me alone?” You whine.

“Yeah, it is. I’m selfish, you know that”, he murmurs, making you sigh. “Let me have some peace of mind knowing you got home safely”

“I can just text you, telling you I’m alive when I get there”

“You know you won’t do it”, he chuckles awkwardly, “I’m going there to see if you got home anyways, it's better than me showing up at your house and waking up all your neighbors”, he tells you.

“Fine”, you huff. At this point you think you may be expelled from your building if Hyunjin spends another night knocking on your door. You can just let him have his way this one time, then you won’t get close to him anymore.

When the car arrives you both get in quietly, you sit on the opposite side of him, trying to stay as far as possible. You distract yourself looking outside the window, seeing the city and you start to feel your eyes heavy, resting your head on the window and closing your eyes just to have a quick nap until getting home.

You wake up in your bed, you are still in your party clothes but you're covered till your neck with blankets. How did you get there? You can’t remember, were you that drunk? Not really. You feel your head hurt and the thirst comes right after, so you get up walking to your kitchen to get a glass of water. When you turn around, gulping on the liquid you’re taken by surprise with Hyunjin asleep on your couch.

“Jezz”, you yelp, almost letting the cup fall on the floor and waking the man up. “What are you doing here?” You ask while he sits, rubbing his eyes.

“You were sleeping so soundly when we arrived, I didn’t want to wake you up so I carried you”, he explains.

“And you stayed over because…?” You question, making him pout.

“I thought you might need something in the middle of the night”

You take a deep breath, putting your glass of water on the counter.

“I won’t be needing anything, so you can go now”, you say, feeling your chest hurt. You shouldn’t find him sweet, you should think of him as an asshole and nothing more.

“Can’t you hear me out?” He asks, looking at you with puppy eyes. “I will grovel and beg if you ask me too but just hear what I have to say”, he pleads, making you bite on your bottom lip. You shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t, but your heart wants it so bad, wants to find an explanation so you can forgive him.

“You have five minutes”, you tell him, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

He smiles, standing up immediately.

“I know I was wrong, I do. First I shouldn’t have slept with you knowing that it would hurt you if I went back to Jisoo, even if you didn’t like me romantically it would have still hurt you and I should have done better”, he says, “but after you left me, nothing more made sense, not even my relationship, it felt like something was missing and I knew all along that that something was you but I thought it was only as a friend. After you told me you like me, I started seeing things in a different light and everything kinda started making sense…”

You sigh, interrupting him.

“Look, you had a bit to drink and I don’t want you to pity me, okay? Your girlfriend is not going to like it if she knows you’re here telling me those things”

“I broke up with her”, he says, “after the last time I saw you, I ended things. I would never confess to you out of pity, I’m selfish but not that much. I took this time away from you to sort things out and find out if I was just missing you as a friend or as more than that and after seeing that guy all over you tonight I’m absolutely sure that I like you more than as a friend”

You feel your heart beating in your ears, that’s everything you wanted to hear him but you still feel insecure.

“How am I supposed to believe that you won’t change your mind tomorrow morning?” You bite on your lip, trying to not give in right away.

“Here”, Hyunjin pats on his pockets, grabbing a key and handing it to you, “this is the key to my studio, if tomorrow morning or whenever I do any shit to hurt you, you can go there and break everything”

You stare at his hand, the key hanging in wait for you to grab it, for you to grab what he’s offering you.

“What if I’m the one to do something to hurt you?” You ask, grabbing the key. “What if I’m the one to break your heart?”

“I don’t care”, he takes a step closer, “I'm giving it to you, so It’s yours to break”, he finishes, waiting for you to close the gap between the both of you. Waiting for your love.

You sigh, you know that you are a lost cause when it comes to Hyunjin and even if this is just another one of his love whims, you don’t care, as long as he looks at you and loves you this once, nothing more matters.

Tags(tumblr don't let me mention the ones in red): @hhoneylix @sunarins-whore @hyuninyriu @softkisshyunjin @skzfelixlove @hyunjinhoexxx @ittoehurt @9900z @tsunderelino @imma-queencard @redstayrosie @meowsforyujin @hynjinniesworld @yongbokified @shuaxshu @seungseung-minmin @ladyartemesia @julciaqwerty @felixsgreasylefteyelash143 @lavintine-blog @minleemin @vanblack95 @losraire @hwangshoneycake @minimin1993 @leesjuicycalves @chuuchuu1224 @lilcutieana @castbyfox @ismokeeweed @notbeforelong @nicole-2099 @chanchansgirly @trixzzie @aelin-sardothien @aujiroo @yaorzu-blog @wgothic

[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

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

simmer down and pucker up

pairing: leon x reader

cw: daddy kink, ddlg dynamics, p in v, oral sex, semi-public sex

summary: he's not daddy in public, he's just leon. but you want daddy's attention.

a/n: not proofread. title is from do i wanna know? by the arctic monkeys.

wc: 2.3k

You and Leon play daddy and baby girl at home - only at home, no one will ever know about this taboo little habit. You hide any obvious paraphernalia like the pacifiers in your sock drawer, and hope no one suspects anything based solely on the large collection of plushies that line the bed. The dolls you have are “collectors items” or “hold sentimental value”, “you’ve had them since you were a child”, etc. The list of lies is a long one. 

It helps that you don’t constantly dress in tiny pink skirts and thigh highs. You’re wearing your new strawberry shortcake panties, but no one can see those under your jeans. It feels weird to call the man you love by his first name. Leon. Who’s that? Oh, you mean daddy?

You have to call him Leon in public. You try to practice around the house, but it comes out in your sing-songy tone just like ‘daddy’. When daddy tells you he has to leave you cling to his leg like a koala bear. 

“C’mon, baby girl, I’m gonna be late,” he says, genuinely tired of arguing with you. 

“I wanna come with you,” you say. The truth is, you don’t really want to go to whatever professional event Leon has to attend - you just want his attention, and this seems to be your only option. 

“Fine. Get dressed,” he concedes. “You have 15 minutes or I’m leaving without you.” 

You want to tell Leon that he’s supposed to act like a daddy, not a father, but you don’t have time to make snide remarks because you have to go dig something that could be considered “cocktail attire” out of the back of your closet. You’ve never had a large professional wardrobe, so most of your dresses are skin-tight with a plunging neckline. You manage to find one that almost goes down to your knees, and though Leon gives you a look of mild disapproval when you walk downstairs, his mind is really filled with dirty thoughts he tries very hard to shake off before you leave. 

You tap his shoulder and hold up your heels, asking for help.  

“No, you’ve gotta practice being independent if you’re gonna come with me tonight, alright?”

“But daddy-”

“Ah,” he tuts, finger out in front of you. 

“But Leon,” you whine - like an adult this time, sitting on the floor to properly put your shoes on.

“Good girl,” he says with a kiss upon your forehead. Unfortunately, this feeds your baby girl behavior. You look up at him doe-eyed and grinning. 

You take Leon’s hand which is already outstretched for you and stand up on your own. Daddy would’ve picked you up and carried you out to the car, but Leon is mean and makes you walk by yourself and buckle your own seatbelt. 

Leon had warned you that it would be boring, and he was right. You’re beginning to regret insisting on accompanying him. It would’ve been more enjoyable if the banquet hall had a kids menu (the kind that comes with crayons). 

“Daddy,” you whisper, tugging at his sleeve. It’s his nice suit, but that’s not why he scolds you. 

“Uh-uh. We only say that word inside the house.” He told you it was because he didn’t want anyone to overhear you calling him that, but in reality, he’s worried about you making him hard in public. He’ll have to drink a lot more and hope he can induce whiskey-dick (though, that’s something that seems to have disappeared from his life since you got together). 

“Can I play on your phone?”

“You have your own phone.”

“The battery is almost dead.”

He fishes his phone out of his pocket, but before he hands it over, he looks you in the eye and says as sternly as he can (which is not very stern, considering it’s you he’s talking to), “Just games. No texting, no calling, no email. Got it?”

“Got it,” you agree with a nod. 

He suppresses the urge to call you a good girl because it’ll further instigate you to mess with him, something he can already tell you want to do.

You play Neko Atsume until you get bored and hand Leon back his phone. Daddy says he has to do important work things, so you are relegated to a different part of the room. He tells you that you could come with him if you’re willing to socialize, but you said no. You want his undivided attention. Luckily, you’d anticipated this, and made sure your phone had a little bit of battery left. You leave the ballroom and head for the ladies room, locking yourself in a stall. 

A while back, you’d set a special ringtone for yourself in Leon’s phone, so whenever you called he’d know to pick up ASAP. You also made sure his phone always alerted him when you sent him a text. Calls are for emergencies and texts are for not-so-urgent things. You decide that your current problem - your neediness, which is mostly a constant - is not an emergency, so a call is not warranted, only a text. Plus, you can send Leon a picture if you text, rather than call. 

You couldn’t fit a bra under your dress which only makes it easier to take a picture of your tits and send it to Leon. The exchange goes as follows. 

You: daddy I need you!!

You know he’s flustered when he texts you back. 

daddy <3: Knock it off.

You: but daddyyy my princess parts need help :(

daddy <3: Where are you?

Oh, he’s caving and coming to see you. You think you’ve won, but you’re so very wrong. 

You: bathroom ;) 

daddy <3: Get out here now.

You find him standing outside the ladies room with his arms crossed. He stares you down and you think you’ve really pissed him off. He doesn’t say anything, but he yanks you by the arm like a child.

“Are we going home?” You can’t decide whether to be eager or apologetic, so you try to keep your cutesy tone as neutral as possible. 

“No.” He doesn’t say anything else until you get outside. He finds a relatively secluded spot where he’s fairly sure that you won’t get caught. 

“On your knees,” he says. 

You shouldn’t be as surprised as you are. You asked for him to come give you attention and sent him an explicit photo. But you really didn’t think Leon would be this bold. You’ve never done anything in public before and the idea makes you a bit nervous. 

Leon can see that you’re feeling shy now, but he’s too hard to soothe your nerves. “Do you want daddy or no?” he asks, with his hands on his hips. He’s impatient, he doesn’t have to pretend. 

You nod. Obedient now that you’ve gotten what you wanted. 

“Are you going to do what I say?”

“Yes, daddy.” 

Leon’s demeanor softens when he hears your sweet - almost apologetic - voice. 

“I know you can be a good girl for me.”

Good girl. The words are like magic, making you kneel in front of him. 

Leon looks around quickly before he unzips his pants and pulls his dick out. He’s so hard that it twitches in anticipation when your hand reaches to touch it. The tip is already leaking, too. You did this, and now you have to fix it. When you look up into his eyes, you can tell he’s not actually upset with you. He can’t be. He’s just tense because he needs to cum - he’s more desperate for you than you are for him. 

You know you won’t get rewarded if you tease him so you take him as far as you can down your throat. His eyes go wide, as he’s shocked by how much you can take. He sees your eyes water and he starts to worry until you start bobbing your head eagerly and he can’t think straight. Leon tips his head back and groans, louder than he should. He looks down into your eyes and in seconds, he feels the familiar sensation of his muscles tightening in his abdomen. 

“Baby,” he says, “daddy’s gonna cum soon.” He’s practically panting at this point, and more worried than before that you might get caught. The possibility of ruining his reputation as a hard-working agent - or worse, an arrest - is one thing, but now that he’s so close to the edge, the idea of being stopped before his orgasm hits is what he fears more. 

You remove him from your mouth and he thinks you’re going to turn the tables on him in an expert play. But you don’t. 

“Daddy, I want it on my face,” you say. 

And despite his better judgment telling him that this is the worst place to do this, he can’t help but give in. He finishes himself off with his own hand, painting your face with thick white ropes. It takes all of his strength to keep his eyes open but you look so pretty with your mouth open wide like this, eager to taste his release. 

When he comes down from his high, you take the initiative and get every last drop from his cock. He quickly slips himself back into his pants and the moment of clarity hits him. 

“What am I going to do with you?” He half-laughs because it’s either that or panic about the fact that your face is covered in an unmistakable sticky white substance. 

You reach into your purse, pull out some tissues and hand them to him. He cleans you up carefully, making sure nothing gets in your eyes. 

“Can we go home now, daddy?”

“Yeah,” he says, deciding he’ll figure out how to explain his sudden departure later. He can’t take you inside when you look like that. He holds your hand while you walk to the car and he buckles you in. 

“Am I still in trouble?” you ask on the way home, breaking the silence. 

Leon really doesn’t know. You were naughty, but then you were good, really fucking good in his opinion. And, he’s not good at punishing you. “Only a little bit.”

“Does that mean you’ll help me?”

“With what?” He turns to look at you when he stops at a red light. 

You look down at your lap, too shy to say the words.  

“Help you with your princess parts?”

Your breath hitches. The two words increase your arousal exponentially. Your tone quavers when you say, “yes, daddy.” It’s the correct response, but really, it’s the only words you can come up with anyway. 

He sighs. “You were naughty tonight.”

“Please, daddy,” you say, and when Leon parks the car in the driveway, you grab his hand and guide it under your dress. “I really need it,” you say when his hand finds your panties. 

Wet would be an understatement. Leon finds himself straining against the fabric of his pants already. You’ve done it again. He can’t help but think about how you taste. He doesn’t say anything, but you can see it in his eyes when you walk in the door. He takes your shoes off along with own and then picks you up and carries you to bed. 

In the bedroom, Leon is gentle with you, carefully unzipping your dress and slipping it down your body. He’s gentle, but he’s not selfless. He plays with your tits, sucks on them until he decides it’s time to move down between your legs. He takes his jacket off and rolls up his sleeves like he’s preparing for something laborious. He gets on his knees at the edge of the bed and pulls you towards him. He sucks on the gusset of your panties until you’re kicking your legs in protest. He finally takes them off, so he can truly savor you. 

It doesn’t take long for you to cum, crying out “daddy” over and over. But, Leon doesn’t stop. 

“Daddy it’s too much,” you sob. 

“Daddy’s not done yet,” he says, continuing to lap at your folds. You sob and tug at his hair, undecided about whether or not you really want him to stop. “Daddy, no more,” you say. 

“One more, baby. Just give daddy one more.” It’s more of a plea than a demand.

“I can’t,” you cry. 

“Yes, you can." WIth that, he hands you a plushie to squeeze. Whether the thoughtful act comes from daddy's nurturing nature or if it's a well-played bargaining chip, you accept it.

Daddy is right - you can cum again. When you do, you coat Leon’s face with your arousal, and your orgasm leaves you gasping for breath. When you open your eyes, you see Leon undressing. 

“Daddy I’m too sensitive,” you say. 

“Then how come you said you needed daddy earlier? Were you lying to daddy?”

“No.”

You’re going to tell him that you need a break but when he takes his cock out you change your mind. It doesn’t matter how overstimulated you are, you want him inside you.

You’re wetter than usual, and that’s saying something. Leon slips into you with relative ease. Sometimes, you struggle to take all of him, but now, he's able to bury himself fully in your soaking cunt. Sorry, princess parts.

“Look, baby,” he says, pointing down at your tummy where you can see him bulging inside you. “Look how good you’re taking daddy.”

Your tears cease for a moment when you see his smile. 

“Daddy’s so proud of you,” he whispers into your ear and clamp down onto him in response. His movements are more forceful by necessity. You make it difficult for him to thrust in and out when you clench this tightly around him. Leon doesn't mind, he'll gladly fuck you roughly if given the chance. He loves to hear the way you babble nonsense, he loves to watch drool drip out of your mouth. Daddy loves you. That's the last thing he says before he cums.

When Leon has his second orgasm of the night, he feels like he’s about to blackout, and it takes every bit of his strength to not fall over and crush you. He can barely pay attention to you, so he only notices your orgasm when he feels your walls pulsating around him, making him cum harder - something that would’ve seemed impossible mere seconds ago. 

When his back hits the mattress, he doesn’t say anything, and after a moment, you place your hand on his chest, worried you might have given him a heart attack. 

“Are you okay, daddy?”

“Besides the fact that I can’t feel my dick anymore? Yeah, I’m good, very, very good.” 

Leon is quiet for long enough that you think he might’ve dozed off until he says, “You know, I think I was wrong.”

“About what?”

“Taking you with me was a great idea.”

[woso-dreamzzz]

Foster

Meadema x Teen!Reader

Summary: You're taken to a new home

You meet Beth and Viv two days after the new year begins.

Social services came around for the last time in the evening two days ago. They found you, curled up on the floor of your wardrobe, having locked it from the inside with a chain of interlocking hairbands.

Your father had been passed out on the landing and your mother was high out of her mind in the kitchen.

You got woken up, told to pack and taken away. You spend the night in your new social worker's office and then you're brought to their house.

Beth and Viv greet you at the door. You only know who they are because your social worker gave you the file before she dumped you here.

"Your room's pretty bare," Beth explains," We can go and get decorations if you want later today."

You survey the room. "It's fine."

It's more than fine. Your old room was a dirty old mattress that you're sure your uncle and cousins stole. Your wardrobe was second-hand and falling apart while your desk had different-sized legs and the accompanying chair didn't have a backrest so was functionally a stool.

"Are you sure?" Beth looks around the room. "We can get decorations. It's no problem."

"It's good," You confirm, placing your bin bag down on the bed (a bed with an actual bed frame!).

"Okay," Viv says," We'll let you unpack while we make lunch. Any allergies?"

You shake your head.

"We'll see you soon."

Unpacking is done embarrassingly quickly and you linger a bit longer to not look too pathetic in front of Beth and Viv. It's little more than twiddling your thumbs and staring at the clock on your bedside table.

You didn't have a bedside table at home so that's kind of nice. It's got drawers on it so you would be able to stash food in it if you needed to.

Beth and Viv seem like nice people but you can never be quite too sure. It's not your first rodeo in the foster system. Your parents cleaned up their act last time so there's a chance they'll do the same this time though, judging by the way your father was passed out on the stairs, you wouldn't be surprised if he ended up dead by alcohol poisoning.

You sigh softly as you get off the bed, stretching out your back in preparation before exiting the room.

"Hey," Viv says when she notices you lingering in the background," Lunch is ready if you want to sit."

You can't quite tell if she's just being nice or if this is an order. She looks a bit more stern than Beth does so you do what she says. Today's not the day to test boundaries.

She smiles though, when you sit down and slides you a plate. "I didn't know what you like so I just put on a bit of everything."

You look down at your plate and can't help the smile. She's made sure that everything's separate too, so nothing's touching and nothing will taint each piece of food.

"Thanks," You say softly, digging in. You don't know when they'll next give you a meal so it's better to gorge yourself now. You've got your hoard of food from your horse hidden in the drawers of your bedside table but you'll have to stock up soon because some of that stuff will be out of date very soon and you're not desperate enough to eat spoiled food just yet.

"Have you got a phone?" Beth asks.

You shake your head. You didn't even have wifi back home which really sucked when you were meant to do research for school.

"Here." She chucks a box at you with a smile.

You catch it out of the air and look at it. It's a phone. A brand new one by the looks of it.

You look at Beth and Viv in shock. Your previous foster parents had never given you things like this before. You'd gotten given a brick phone a few years ago when you were first separated from your parents but that had been flogged for drug money almost as soon as you got reunited.

"I..." You swallowed thickly to quell the tears you knew would spill down your cheeks sooner rather than later. "Thank you..."

"No problem," Beth says," Once you get it all set up, I can give you the Netflix password. There's a laptop coming too but we forgot to order it until last night. It should be here soon though, for your school work."

"Thank you..."

You feel a bit like a broken record, incapable of doing anything but repeating the same two words over and over again.

Viv smiles as well, sliding a bag of non-perishables at you. She doesn't say anything about it but you knew that she knew. You're not too sure how she knew but it must have been written in your file somewhere.

Your old social workers had noted a few times that you hoarded food like you were about to go into hibernation.

You like that Viv doesn't make a big deal out of it though. She just slides you the bag and nods.

You're oddly flattered and your opinion of Beth and Viv is cemented in your heart pretty quickly.

You just hope that they don't betray your trust because they're already shaping up to be the best set of foster parents you've ever had and all they're really doing is the bare minimum.

You glance around the house.

It looks nice. It's pretty cosy and warm.

You nod to yourself, looking down at the bag bashfully.

You think that you'll like it here.

[harringtons-cupid]

could you write about joseph getting surprised on set by his partner? like he goes to his trailer to decompress (and maybe rub one out to the thought of you) between filming, but to his shock, you’re already there, sprawled out on the bed in a burgundy lingerie set he choose out for you. he has no choice but to scoop you up and fuck you against the wall, ripping your panties and moaning about how good you feel ehehehehehehe 🫣

Thank you so much for this ask, so I kind of changed it a little! But I hope you still like it!

Smut: 18+ : Cunnilingus, trailer sex, female masturbation, dirty talk. Fingering, clit spanking. Bent over knee. Creampies, finger sucking. Cum eating.

Other: Possessive Joe

Joe had been filming intensely all week, every time you saw him he would smile weakly and blink through those sleepy eyes. Collapsing asleep onto the bed before you even had a chance to speak to him.

The process repeated itself until you woke up one morning with a burning sensation in the pit of your stomach, your thighs squeezed together to ignore the throbbing.

Shuddering as you clambered out of bed, biting your lip as your clit rubbed against your thighs as you walked. Bending down with a gasp to open your underwear drawer, after searching for a few minutes.

You finally found it, the lingerie set that Joe had bought you. Never having a chance to wear it, you stripped and changed with a whimper.

Lying on the bed admiring yourself in the burgundy set, you moved your legs together to create a tiny bit of friction to burn some of the heat that was erupting.

Continuing to masturbate until you couldn't take it anymore and desired more than your own thighs.

Pulling an outfit out of the wardrobe and shoving it into your nearest bag, you slung a long black cloak around your body with a shiver and headed out of the door.

Your clit throbbed as you drove yourself towards the set, dazzling a smile at the security from your passenger window and continuing in the direction of his work trailer.

Checking your surroundings before knocking softly on the door, with no answer you pushed the door open.

It was warmer than your car and the outdoors, instantly dropping the cloak once behind closed doors. You meandered in the direction of his bedroom, it smelt of him.

Your bag tucked neatly under the bed, you positioned yourself in the centre and opened your legs.

After waiting for what seemed like an age, the door to the trailer finally crept open, and quiet mumblings filled the kitchen and living area until his footsteps vibrated across the floor towards you.

★ ★ ★

Joe had been pulled and prodded all morning in the makeup and costume chairs, he was positioned and directed until tiredness crept up. He took a twenty-minute break before he was told that he would be performing a sex scene.

His mind shifted to you as he shoved a sock over his cock, trying to think of anything but sexual images of you as he was directed into the scene.

Once it was over and his lips were dry, guilt seeped through his veins as he wandered back to the trailer.

Images of you found their way back into his mind, ones he had suppressed earlier and he waddled towards the trailer with a raging hard-on. In need of release.

Mumbling to himself as he noticed the car outside the trailer but told himself that he was dreaming and he was only horny for you.

There was no way you would come to see him at work, you had only been on set once or twice and you hated it.

Everyone oggled you and jealously overcame him, warning you to only come back if he asked you.

You were his and only his.

Still mumbled as he made his way towards the bedroom, his cock now chafing against his boxers and jeans. Needing to be freed more than anything. He pushed the door open slightly, unprepared for the sight in front of him.

He stumbled on words as his mouth opened and closed in surprise, smirking at you as he noticed you staring at his obvious bulge.

Toying with his belt buckle, slowly letting his jeans fall to the ground. Not moving any closer to you as you widened your legs and pleaded with your eyes.

Biting your lip as your hand played with your constrained breast, your eyes never leaving his as you waited patiently for him to claim you.

As you waited for as long as you could, your hand had snaked down towards your thighs and your hips bucked against your palm. You began to whine.

''Please Joe, come fuck me'' Gasping as your hand palmed through the fabric of your panties.

Watching as he sighed with arousal heavily before dropping his boxers onto the floor, his cock was leaking with precum.

Edging closer to the bed where you lay, he bent down until his nose grazed your stomach and his teeth curled around the frilly part of your panties.

In one swift motion, he pulled them off you. Letting them drop to your ankles, with a shuddering gasp he dipped his head closer to your aching clit.

His eyes stared into you as his tongue moved in circular movements, your legs snapped tightly around his neck as your hips jerked with him.

The sounds of your moans and odd creaking filled the small trailer bedroom, his eyes were full of greed as he coached you closer to your orgasm.

Your legs shook heavily, as they slipped from around his neck. Your moans turned into whines, and he continued to suck and lick your clit until you were a quivering mess underneath him.

Not saying else for a few moments as he allowed you to catch your breath before breaking the heated silence.

''Stand up and face that wall'' his voice was steady and collected, towering over you.

He watched as you shakily did as you were told, struggling to hold yourself up as you used the wall for support. Eagerly watching him stride across the tiny area towards you with a smirk.

His arms slipped beneath you, grasping on your skin as his hard cock brushed against your wet thigh. With your front pressed firmly against the wall, he positioned himself closer to your entrance.

Teasing you slightly before edging himself inside you with a gasp, your pussy spasmed around his cock as you adjusted yourself to being filled up.

Whimpering softly into his ear as his cock hit the top of your walls, he began to thrust deeply inside you. Hitting your chest against the wall, hissing at the slight pain.

Not seeing his face was disapointing but the position currently was causing your legs to quiver. It felt incredible.

Your legs were spread as far apart as they could get without hurting you too much.

Joe was groaning into your ear as his hands gripped your body, thrusting you hard into thin walls of the trailer as his cock got deeper.

“I have been thinking about you all day” he said between thrusts.

You could tell by how hard he was thrusting inside you, not caring. You needed this release.

“What have you been thinking about?” You urged him on further.

“Oh lots of things baby, fucking you raw like this. Bending you over my lap, making sure my cum is deep inside you” he groaned.

“Please do as you say, I need that from you” you whined, your clit was twitching.

Your panties had been ripped, pulled aside to make room for his fat cock.

You were getting close to cumming yourself but you held it in, Joe was the important one here.

Grinding your own hip against his cock, he whimpered at the feeling.

“God you feel so good baby, I’m so close” he panted heavily.

“Cum for me Joe, please” you begged him.

Increasing your movement with his, you watched as he shivered. Before exploding hard, his cum leaked inside you.

His body was twitching from his orgasm, his fingers gripping into your shoulder as he moaned loudly into your ear.

He didn’t stay inside you for long once his cum had been emptied inside you.

Bending you over his lap as his cum seeped out of you, he dove his fingers inside your filled pussy.

Fingering you deeper and every time his tried to escape, he shoved his fingers down your throat.

“Good girls take cum in every hole” he smirked at you.

You were a mess on his lap as he continued making you cum 3 times from his fingers.

When there was a knock at the door, he didn’t stop fingering you. Forcing you to change into your clothes, pulling you onto his lap and throwing a blanket between you.

“Come in” he smirked at you.

Trying to limit the movement between you both as his assistant scolded him for being later, she blushed at the mess and smell of sex in the air.

Leaving you both too it, the movement she left. He pulled the blanket off you, one hand fingering your pussy and the other spanking your clit.

“Are you going to behave if I go to rehearsal? He eyed you.

Sitting his hoodie, still on the edge of an orgasm. Needing to cum one last time.

He dropped to his knees, spreading your legs and licked your clit. You ground against his face, you were already close to your orgasm.

Cumming onto his face and into his beard, your moans were loud. Rocking the bed of the trailer as you came the hardest you came today.

“Bye baby, such a good pussy” he smirked.

Kissing all your cum onto your face and mouth, giving your clit one more spank before heading out the door.

[bunnyyamor]

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ shower sex

having simon away for so many months has made u lonely and miss him. but all of a sudden; he’s home, tired and exhausted. u know exactly how to make him relaxed.

simon “ghost” riley x f!reader ୨୧ ꒰ nsfw...mdni ꒱ male masturbation, shower sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, cock play, breast play, touch starved and feral simon, pet-names

pls comment + like + reblog; i would rlly appreciate it (๑˘︶˘๑)

you stared out the window, sipping coffee in your sweater as you reminisced on memories of you and your simon. your eyes landed on a tree, sensing the wind picking up. you loved simon but loving him was hard and you knew he struggled as well. lovers were meant to be together, to see each other, holding, kissing, conversing. you missed that when he was gone and you knew he missed you too from letters and just knowing simon so well. you knew he was doing what was best, fighting, he was the one sacrificing but you felt you were sacrificing as well. you were sacrificing your man, sacrificing the feeling of always, all the time being comforted. instead, you embraced loneliness as your friend. and yet all of those ups and downs, you still needed simon, you still wanted to be his girl. you didn’t want it any other way.

you fogged up the window and drew a heart on it, putting your initials and simon’s. “i miss my baby.” you pouted as you took your phone out and saw the wallpaper on it was you kissing his cheek. he was so rough around the edges and you were his escape. your personality was sweet, happy go lucky, that is probably why you two meshed so well together. you were the misses that brought him back down to earth, that made him feel safe, loved. he was the bull and you were the china shop. 

“hopefully daddy can be here soon,” you patted your puppies ears. every time you saw your dog you saw simon because simon had him trained so he would protect you when he was gone. 

simon was said to be back in a couple months. for some reason that seemed like years to your ears. you were always wanting that maybe he could get back sooner, the door opening to him all dirty, dusty, needing a shower but here, present. 

outside was finally raining. it was a gloomy day and for some reason that made you feel more alone. “i sometimes hate the fuckin rain.” you muttered. you thought about what you said and laughed out loud to yourself. boy did you sound like your man. he was rubbing off on you already. 

you read the time and saw it was getting late. you still needed to shower and do your 10-step skin care routine. the memory of simon teasing you about your steps made you smile. how you missed your brit. you wrapped yourself in your sweater and was about to head into your room when you heard the door to your home creak. the doorknob jiggling. your dog ran straight for the door, making sure you were behind him as he barked non-stop. the person at the door wouldn’t stop. if this was someone trying to sell something or a stranger they wouldn’t be so persistent on getting in. quickly you head to your wardrobe and from the drawer you retrieve your handgun. simon had gifted it to you a couple months into you two dating. legs apart, gun pointed straight for the door, you waited for the intruder to get in. they were about to have a bullet between their eyes and meet their maker. 

finally, the door opened, and in quickly stepped-

“simon?” you questioned. 

simon wiped his boots on your welcome mat, he was drenched from the rain. his eyes hadn't met yours yet but when they did you could tell he was smiling under his balaclava from the way his eyes crinkled. “good girl.” his voice sounded tired. 

“oh baby,” you dropped your gun and ran to him. everytime he came home you cried. cried that he was safe and really in your arms. simon always said you were very emotional. even though simon was tired he still accepted your running form and picked you up in his arms. “hello, love.”

“i missed you.” you embraced him, not caring if he smelled of sweat and dirt. you kissed his masked covered cheek. then, gently, you lifted it up and took it off him. to think you were the few people to see his beautiful face. his eyes softened. you could tell there were so many things he wanted to say but there wouldn’t be enough time. “i’ve missed you more, baby.”

your clean, soft hands caressed his stubble that was growing perhaps because of the length of the trip back home. your plump lips landed on his rough ones. it felt so perfect kissing him. something you were missing was finally here again. you didn’t want to ever stop kissing him. you wanted him to truly know how much you loved him. you wrapped your hands around his head to deepen the kiss. your tongue lightly licked his lips and you felt a pinch on your side. “oww,” you chuckled, knowing what simon was talking about. 

“naughty girl,” he growled, making you throw your head back in laughter. “you know what you do to me.”

“you’ve been a good boy right?” you joked, hopping out of his arms and leading him back to the room. 

“if you’re asking if i’ve cheated on you, my love, the answers no. i couldn’t, haven’t gotten the time.”

your smile disappeared and instead you wore a scowl. “ha ha very funny,” rolling your eyes. 

simon smirked as he gave a deep chuckle, “i knew you would get mad. i like seeing you lose your temper.”

“yeah, don’t have much patience nowadays. besides, i get grumpy if someone were to touch my man.”

“don’t worry, darling. i’m all yours.” 

you felt this happiness deep within your heart. the whole that was there when he left was filled now just seeing him. you felt bad however to see him so tired. 

he stood before the mirror, ready to take his uniform off. 

“no babe. let me.” your eyes looked up at him through your lashes. “let me take care of you.” you immediately started to take off his boots, so gingerly. his eyes never left yours. it expressed so much love for you. he was a man of few words but his look said enough. he appreciated you and cherished you so much. 

you finally were to his uniform shirt. half lidded, having to feel his skin, you gently lifted it above his head. he always caught your breath. he was very fit, and had chest hair. you could feel your body warm up as his chest was inches away from your face. simon put his finger under your chin, lifting your face up. your eyes flashed to the scars he had on his chest. they made you worried because each had a story, a story that might have ended so differently. your nails delicately grazed each one. 

“it’s not as bad as it looks,” simon said jokingly. 

each deserved love. so you kissed one scar, then the next. eyes closed as you gave a peck to each scar. 

you noticed simon’s breathing was quickening and he was groaning. both of you were touch starved and were in need of each other. “fuck,” simon mumbled, as his head hung back. “i need you, love. i don’t know how long i can hold back.”

“i know, baby. i want to show you i appreciate all you do. let me take care of you. relax.” 

“that’s easier said than done. especially when you’re kissing me like that. you know how many nights i dreamed about you. nights where i wish i was between your thighs, or i was inside you. this feels like a dream right now.”

you kneeled down in front of his already excited cock. you could see the tent in his pants. “you poor thing. and that’s why i promise you, i’ll make sure you get me on the daily.” you winked. 

you got him to take his pants off so now he was just a dusty simon with his briefs on. you gulped at seeing his thick thighs. you loved to sit on that lap, they were so strong his legs, and made you weak. 

“eyes up here, darling.” simon raised a brow.

you stuck your tongue out. “i wasn’t looking at anything that wasn’t mine.”

“possessive aren’t we?” simon’s hands raised and caressed your hair. 

“now, since you haven’t had a proper, deserving shower in a while, with warm water. i am going to give you a bath, so get fully naked while i go put on some candles.”

“love, you don’t need to do all that. i just want you.” simon was almost begging. he loved how you were particular with detail and you wanted to do so much for him but he didn’t need none of that. he has been non-stop thinking about you. his hands made grabby hands for yours. 

“don’t worry. i’ll be quick.” you sprinted to the bathroom. putting a robe and soft comfortable matching pajamas that matched with yours on the counter for him. you put the candles on that smelled like vanilla and turned the shower on so it was warm for him. you played some slow, sensual music on alexa. “ok, this looks good!” you smiled big. 

you turned around to see simon leaning against the door frame. he was watching you the whole time. you felt a lump in your throat however when your eyes drooped down to his hanging cock. it was thick just like the rest of him. seeing him like this made you want to forever lock him up and never have to share him. 

“don’t worry. he misses you too.”

you licked your lips, simon always made you speechless. you opened the shower door for him. with a walk you always loved, so manly, he walked inside. you took a good look at his ass, thanking god he had cake. he was so fine! 

the moment his skin made contact with the warm water he groaned. all the black grime was dripping down his skin into the drain. little by little his skin was showing, clean. his eyes were closed, enjoying the feeling as his hands wandered all over his wet skin. your eyes widened, entranced. he noticed you were staring so he decided to play with you. his thick fingers wrapped around his cock, shaking it and stroking it. “fuck, i wish someone would help me out with this. any volunteers, love?”

you knocked out of the trance and rolled your eyes. “make room in there. i’m coming.”

“i was anticipating that.”

as you entered, fully naked, you walked into the water. shower head drenching your hair. you got wet first then got some soap that smelled like perfume. you knew that simon was watching so with an evil idea you lathered the body wash all around your breasts. each stroke causing them to jiggle. you rubbed circular motions around your nipples and picked each breast up cleaning under. you squished them together, really cleaning them. your could swear you heard him curse under his breath, “yeah, baby just like that. fuck me.”

you dragged the soap down to your pussy, playing with your lips. you then gathered that and went to your ass, spreading your ass apart, playing with each cheek. 

“mmmm,” you heard his grumble and heard him playing with his cock. you loved playing for him. 

you moaned as you bent over to reach your legs. you knew he was behind you , getting a good look at all of you. he thought you looked like a siren. your skin was wet and your hair was soaked. eyelashes thick from the water. you looked like a beautiful vision. you were his dream girl. 

he couldn't take it anymore. he needed to touch you. he put more of your body wash on his hands and stood skin to skin behind you. you felt on your ass his standing cock. it was sticky with pre-cum. “oh hi baby. i forgot you were here.”

“sure. i really don’t find it fair that your fingers are getting more action than me.”

you giggled but then it turned into a moan as his soapy hands reached to your breasts. “i’ll help you clean.”

“n-no. that’s my, job.” you bit your lip, trying not to let him take control as you wanted him to relax. 

“listen baby, i like pleasing my woman. let me.” he breathed into your ear as his fingers played with your nipples. pinching them and rolling the bud then dipping lower to your cunt. his thick middle finger delicately tickled between your lips. it was light but made you get excited. “even with this shower blasting on both of us, i can still feel how wet you are.”

“fuck,” you huffed. 

simon spread your pussy lips apart and traced your clit. rolling it then flicking it. “nnnn, simon. i-fuck-i want to make you feel good.”

simon couldn't take it anymore. he had been away from you for so long. he needed to be inside you.

he forcefully turned you around. the height difference was so much that he towered over you. his fingers cupped your cheeks as he dipped down to take your lips into his mouth. his tongue came out, lashing against yours and your teeth. 

“mmmm simon. fuck me.”

“i love you so much, darling.” simon said between kisses. “fuck, i don’t know what’d i do without you.”

you were on your tiptoes as your tongues fought. you licked the inside of his mouth. simon became feral, growling like an animal as he lifted you up by behind your knees. your legs against his head so you could not go anywhere and you were opened up for him. without even preparing yourself simon entered into you. you hadn't had him this whole time and no toy could equal up to his size so you felt your tightness being ripped. 

“good girl. i can tell this pussy missed me. it hasn’t had me in a while.” he chuckled.

“fuck me simon. oh fuck.” you breathed as he sunk into you. you slowly took him all the way in. you felt so full, missing him, missing each crevice and feeling of him. simon nodded as he lifted you back and then slammed into you again. “ahhhh. shit! mmmm feels s’good.”

your half lidded eyes saw his biceps strong, his muscles moving with each thrust. his tattoo entranced you. “ooh baby.” 

“that’s it doll. give it to me.” he grunted with each pounding. he lifted you up and down, his cock dragging inside you, wetting you each time. you felt each vein, felt him so fully inside you. his movements and making you bounce went faster each second. his balls coming up to slap your sensitive pussy. he was so strong to carry you and fuck you. you just held onto him, not able to move as you took each beating your sensitive pussy could handle. 

“you like that, darling?” simon gritted between his teeths. his forehead rested against yours as he switched and put you against the glass window. “that pussy taking all of me. what a good girl.”

“ugh, m’fuck! that’s it baby.” your arms came up to hold onto the glass. the feeling of the cold glass shooting up your back. both contrast of his hot body entering into you. simon grabbed onto your hands up high, pinning you against the glass as he powered inside you. non-stop, wanting you to scream on his cock. 

“ahhh simon, i’m not gonna be able to. i’m gonna fuckin cum!”

“ooh, you sound dirty. who taught you how to speak that way?” simon smirked, already knowing the answer. 

the way his cock angled to hit your g-spot. he reached so deep you thought you felt him in your stomach. his hips rolled with each thrust. you felt your pussy lips stretching to take more of him. his white cream producing more as it mixed with your juice. his cock dripping with your cum. it was making a white ring at the base of his cock. “fuckin shit. fuck, fuck, fuck. that’s it y/n, take my cock. take it all. i’m gonna fuckin cum.”

you held his head still and looked into his eyes, “fuckin cum for me simon. i want you to cum inside me. please fill me up, mmm.”

that’s all simon needed to hear. he was exhausted and just emptied inside of you. seeing his veins protruding from squeezing out his seed and hearing his hearty moan made you also come undone. he fucked you still as your pussy pulsed around him, clenching around his shaft as you came. your juices dripping down your legs. “fuck, baby.” you gave a tired smile. you were sore now and we're definitely going to feel it tomorrow. 

“you felt so good, darling. so tight for me.” simon kissed you again. 

“i don’t think i can walk,” you laughed as you tried but your legs were wobbly. 

simon stood behind you and held you still, holding you up. “i’ve missed you so much. i missed feeling you.” simon was vulnerable with you. his hands went around your torso from behind and kissed behind your neck. “i never want to leave you, my love.”

angel’s little words - this man literally makes my kitty into a knot like he has it purring. my mind is flooded w him and all that cake! It’s my first ghost fic so pls don’t hate me if u hate it ok! i was nervous to post about him bc idk if I got him correct but I did rlly enjoy writing him. Also bc he has so many edits of him w the song wine pon you by doja I wrote this w that song on repeat teehee.

[fvsm4x]

#SLEEPOVER [Gojo Satoru]

SUMMARY: he is your best friend and the two of you are having a sleepover.

— C.W: sub! Gojo Satoru x dom! female reader , 18+ only , nsfw , riding , blowjob , multiple orgasm , dirty talk , unprotected , pet names , shy gojo , not proofread!

— WORD COUNT : 2.2k

Masterlist

It had been a while since you and Gojo had some quality time together, just the two of you. Life had been hectic, and you both felt the need to catch up and relax.

So, why not have a sleepover?

After discussing your schedules, you settled on a date that worked for both of you. The excitement of the upcoming sleepover added a spark to your days, and you eagerly prepared your place for the special night.

Finally, the day arrived, and you found yourself standing in front of your wardrobe, carefully selecting your sleepover attire. You settled on a soft, worn-in T-shirt that had become your go-to for comfort, paired with a pair of loose, breathable shorts.

As you finish getting dressed, the sound of the doorbell ringing interrupts your thoughts. Your heart skips a beat, knowing that it must be Gojo. With a quick glance in the mirror to make sure everything is in place, you rush to the front door,

As you swing open the door, there stands Gojo, a small grin on his face, but a hint of shyness in his eyes. His cheeks slightly flush as he sees you, and you waste no time in enveloping him in a warm, tight hug.

"I've missed you!" you chuckled, breaking away from the hug. "Come inside."

"Thanks," Satoru mumbled, his grin turning even more bashful as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. It was clear that he had missed you just as much, if not more.

He looked around your living room, taking in the familiar sights and smells. "So," he said, clearing his throat nervously. "What do you want to do tonight?

„Well..I was thinking of watching a movie. I bought a lot of extra sweets for you.“ you said with a chuckle, a mischievous glint in your eye as you remembered his notorious sweet tooth.

„Ah..Thanks y/n-chan.“ he replied,“Where should I put my things.“ He showed me his gym bag.

„You can put it in my room, considering you'll be sleeping in there. You remember where it is, right?“ you asked.

„Ah, yes, of course." he replied, his cheeks flushing slightly.

„Alright, put your things there while I‘ll bring the snacks.“ you exclaimed, turning around to head to the kitchen. As you got the snacks ready, Gojo made his way towards your room.

As Gojo entered your room, his eyes quickly scanned the area. He noticed the open drawer by the closet, and as he approached it to place his bag inside, he couldn't help but catch a glimpse of the contents. His eyes widened slightly as he realized it was filled with your panties, an unexpected sight that sent a jolt through him.

His heart raced, and he felt a sudden rush of warmth surge through his body. He was acutely aware of the way his chest tightened and his breath quickened. In that moment, he couldn't help but notice how his body reacted to the sight before him. His dick, confined within his pants, gave a noticeable twitch, a physical response he had not anticipated.

Gojo felt a sudden surge of embarrassment and his cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. He knew he was in your room, and this sight was entirely unintentional, but he couldn't deny the effect it had on him. He quickly placed his bag by the closet, his thoughts momentarily preoccupied with the image of your panties, and then turned away, attempting to regain his composure.

He took a deep breath to calm his racing heart and tried to shake off the lingering embarrassment. He returned to the living room, where you were sitting on the sofa, waiting for him.

He found a place beside you and couldn't help but smile, trying to push aside the unexpected encounter in your room.

"You want some?" you asked, extending the water bottle towards him, but Gojo politely declined with a shrug. You opened the bottle and took a sip, savoring the cool liquid.

As you drank from the bottle, Gojo couldn't help but steal glances at you, trying his best not to be too obvious. He felt a growing warmth in his cheeks and an increasing tightness in his pants, which he desperately tried to ignore. Your shirt had become slightly translucent due to the water you had spilled on it, and the outline of your chest was now visible. He also couldn't help but notice your perky nipples, which only added to his internal struggle.

Gojo let out a sigh, as he grabbed the bowl of popcorn on the table, trying to distract himself from the view of your chest. He cleared his throat, attempting to sound as innocent as possible as he settled down next to you on the couch.

"Y/N, w-what are we going to watch?" he asked, his eyes deliberately focused on the TV screen,

You gave Gojo a mischievous grin as you selected a movie from your collection. To his surprise and slight embarrassment, it turned out to be a slightly more risqué film than he had anticipated. As the movie started, he couldn't help but shift uncomfortably on the couch.

Gojo tried his best to concentrate on the movie's plot, but the scenes on the screen were rather distracting, and he could feel his face heating up. He discreetly stole glances at you, wondering if you had chosen this movie intentionally.

„Why did you choose that movie,“ Gojo muttered to you, meanwhile on the screen, the male lead started passionately kissing the female lead while groping her breast,

You couldn't help but chuckle at his flustered reaction. "Why not," you playfully replied, "Are you hard or something?"

His eyes widened at your blunt question, and he tried to discreetly adjust himself in his seat, hoping you wouldn't notice his bulge. "N-No, of course not," he protested,

„Sure..,“You leaned closer to Gojo, pretending to reach for the popcorn bowl on his lap. However, instead of grabbing the popcorn, your hand brushed against his bulge.

Gojo gasped and looked at you with wide eyes. "Y/N, what are you doing?" he whispered,

With a sly smile, you leaned in even closer, your fingers lightly squeezing his bulge, causing him to shudder. "I thought you might need help,"

Gojo's breath hitched. The movie on the screen was quickly forgotten as your hand ventured into his sweatpants. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin, and the sensation of your fingers brushing against his tip made him shudder. His hard length throbbed beneath the fabric, eager for more attention.

With a teasing smile, you lightly smeared the pre-cum across the head, causing Gojo to let out a low, moan.

Your fingers danced across the sensitive skin of his tip, eliciting more groans and needy sounds from Gojo. He couldn't focus on the movie or any pretense of innocence any longer. His head leaned back slightly as he allowed himself to savor the pleasure your hand was delivering.

Your fingers, slick with Gojo's pre-cum, continued to glide along the veins of his throbbing staff. You could feel the powerful pulse beneath your touch, and Gojo's moans grew more desperate as he surrendered to the pleasure.

He couldn't help but watch as your hand moved up and down, your fingers caressing him, your touch sending waves of ecstasy through his body. He knew that he wouldn't be able to hold back much longer, and he wanted to fully experience the release that was so tantalizingly close.

"Please..." Gojo moaned, his hand gripping the armrest of the sofa as he couldn't contain his desire.

With a smile, you released your hand from his throbbing staff and leaned in. Your lips, guided by your teeth, pulled down Gojo's sweatpants, revealing his aching erection. It sprung free and lightly brushed against your cheek,“Never expected you to be so big,“ you chuckled, as your tongue swirled around his sensitive tip, drawing a throaty gasp from him.

You moved your tongue sensuously along his length, swirling and dancing around his throbbing shaft. You savored the taste of him, your lips forming a tight seal as you slid down, taking him deep into your mouth.

Gojo's moans grew louder, his grip on the armrest tightening as the pleasure surged through him.

With a deep groan, he pushed your head further, encouraging you to take more of him into your warm, wet mouth. His hips lifted slightly, seeking more of your sweet, tantalizing touch.

As you took more of him into your mouth, you couldn't help but gag slightly. His size was overwhelming, and it elicited involuntary tears from your eyes.

With the parts that couldn't fit into your mouth, you used your hands to stroke him. Your warm mouth combined with your skilled hands created a sensation that sent shivers down his spine. His hips began to move in rhythm with your actions,

„D-Don‘t stop!“ Gojo's breaths quickened, and with a final, deep groan, he climaxed in your mouth. You continued to suck him, making sure to catch every drop of his release. His body tensed as wave after wave of pleasure washed over him, leaving him gasping for breath.

You withdrew from his throbbing erection, a glistening strand of saliva connecting your lips to his staff. Gojo looked at you, his face flushed, and stammered, "Y-you can spit it out..." He watched nervously.

You opened your mouth, revealing that you had already swallowed every drop of his cum. His blush intensified upon seeing that you had willingly swallowed it all.

You got to your feet, sliding your shorts and panties down your legs. Then, you approached him and settled on his abdomen. You leaned in for a passionate kiss. The kiss was deep and hungry, a mixture of longing and desire. Your tongues danced in a sensuous rhythm, exploring each other's mouths

You broke away from the kiss and slowly lowered yourself over his staff. Each inch you took inside was met with a whimper from Gojo. Your tightness enveloped him, causing a surge of pleasure to shoot through his body as if he were being consumed by a feverish inferno.

You lifted your shirt, your breasts bounced as you did so, and Gojo couldn't help but curse softly under his breath. Sweat trickled down his forehead, and his lips trembled.

You smiled and guided his hands to your chest, letting him feel your breasts before leaning in for another kiss.

Your movements were slow and deliberate as you began to ride him. Every inch of his large manhood stretched you out, making you gasp at the pleasurable discomfort.

Gojo's hands cupped your breasts, feeling their softness and warmth. His thumbs brushed gently over your sensitive nipples, sending waves of sensation through your body. He squeezed and massaged your breasts, paying close attention to your body's responses,

His size filled you completely, and the sensation was a mix of pleasure and pressure. You could feel every inch of him as he slid in and out of you, and your inner muscles clenched around his hardness.

Your breathing grew heavy "You feel so good inside me, s‘toru.." you moaned, "I want all of you, every inch."

Gojo's face grew warm at your words, his cheeks flushed with a rosy hue. He tried to avoid direct eye contact, but your hand on his cheek gently guided his gaze back to yours.

„Don‘t get shy on me now.“ you spoke. You kissed and nibbled along Gojo's neck, teasing nibbles and gentle suction. Your lips and tongue left a trail of warmth on his skin.

Gojo let out a soft moan. He tried to suppress his shyness, but the sensations you were causing made it difficult. Your words and actions were driving him wild,

Both of you could feel the heat rising, desire building with every passionate move. Your hips moved in a synchronized rhythm, your bodies intertwined. Gojo's fingers dug into your hips as he thrust deeper, lost in the whirlwind of pleasure.

Gojo's ragged breaths mixed with your own, each gasp and moan pushing you both closer to the edge. The room filled with the intoxicating scent of desire and the sound of your passionate entwining. It was clear that both of you were reaching the peak of your pleasure.

He looked into your eyes with an intense, almost desperate gaze, and he couldn't hold back any longer. "Y/N… I-I need you. Please.. let me c-come inside you.. please-"

Your heart raced, the connection between you and Gojo reaching its climax. The thought of him losing control and releasing inside you sent a shiver of anticipation through your body. With a sensual smile,“Of course, baby.“ you replied

Gojo's hips moved, as he approached his climax. The sensations were overwhelming, and the world seemed to fade away as he pushed you both toward ecstasy. He thrust deeper and harder, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.

Finally, the intense pleasure consumed him, and he released with a primal groan, spilling his warmth inside you. The feeling of him pulsating as he came sent you over the edge as well, and you joined him in a passionate release, your bodies trembling with pleasure.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, your lips brushing against his earlobe as you whispered, "You're such a good boy.." A tender kiss landed on his cheek,"Shall we continue in the bedroom?"

© fvsm4x ; DO NOT REPOST

[wileys-russo]

childhood sweethearts (2) II a.russo x reader

series playlist part one

lil bit of a prequel, more to come! childhood sweethearts (2) II a.russo x reader

august 13th, 2011

"come on!" you had barely stepped foot over the threshold of the front door before your best friend had grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers and pulling you upstairs to her room.

"you're gonna rip my arm off less!" you whined at the sheer force of her excitement, stumbling up the stairs as she'd set the pace, legs much longer than yours as she took the stairs two at a time, the taller girl dragging you along behind her without a second thought.

"do we have to go kick the ball around? im so tired." you sighed, shrugging off your bookbag and placing it down on her floor, flopping down on alessia's bed, relishing in the soft alluring comfort of the mattress.

"yes! i have a game tomorrow afternoon." the girl answered without sparing you a glance, throwing clothes around like a hurricane as she hunted through each and every drawer of her wardrobe.

"you had training last night and tuesday." you pointed out sitting up slightly, the girl ignoring you as she continued to rummage through her clothes.

"less its a friday can't we do something fun?" you groaned, head thumping into her pillow. "you sleep over every friday, and football is fun!" alessia dismissed your complaining, kicking her bag into the corner and yanking off her tie.

"you're making a mess." you stated with a shake of your head, the twelve year old pausing to shoot you a dirty look over her shoulder for the comment. "you're such a loser." the older girl jeered with a roll of her eyes. "you're such a meathead." you shot back, crossing your arms and huffing.

"hurry up and change." a bundle of material hit you in the face, alessia already stripping off her uniform as it joined the mountain of clothes covering her floor. "i have my own clothes." you frowned in distaste at the jersey and shorts which you knew would be far too big for you and reached for your bag.

"do you want to get them dirty?" your best friend challenged with a raised eyebrow as you paused, sighing and retracting your hand. "thats what i thought." alessia smiled happily, disappearing momentarily into her bathroom as you changed, neatly folding up your uniform and setting it down beside your bag.

with a roll of your eyes you started to grab items of clothing off alessia's floor she'd tossed around, putting them back where they belonged. "leave that! suck up." the brunette shook her head, shooing you away and instead halfheartedly kicking all of the clothes across the room, into another now crumpled up pile.

"your mums going to kill you when she gets home." you spoke knowingly, alessia shrugging without a care. "doesn't matter. you can just tidy it up later after she's done with her yelling." your best friend smiled cheekily as you shoved her, though you were both aware that is exactly what would happen.

if opposites attracted then that's why you and alessia were best friends.

you loved to read, head always stuck in a book and eyes eagerly scanning each and every word with baited breath. the bell would ring for the end of class and you'd not even flinch as the rest of your peers sprinted out the door. you were far too busy being spun away to another world with your mind scattered in the clouds, following along the adventures of whatever fictional characters you were paying a visit that day, completely oblivious to everything else going on around you.

alessia hated books. the girls passion was football, if she wasn't kicking a ball around she was day dreaming of a football pitch, the feeling of the grass beneath her feet as she zoomed down the sideline, the roars of the crowd as her laces smacked the ball and it soared away in the air, swooshing into the back of the net. and if it wasn't football then you could always rely on her to seek out any other possible ways to burn off energy, able to outrun any of the boys who dared challenge her to a race, even making some of them cry when she'd shamelessly beat them in an arm wrestle.

you were soft spoken, always polite, raised to be well mannered and treat everyone with kindness whether deserving of it or not. you had always been sensitive and well in tune with your emotions from a young age, hell you'd be upset if someone squashed a lady bug, tears rolling down your cheeks thinking of the family it had inevitably left behind.

your best friend was outgoing in every and all sense of the word, big mouthed, loud and proud in her opinions no matter what they were, always speaking whatever thoughts flew to her mind without any sort of filter to scan the possible repercussions of her words. her emotional response was always messy, rushed, chaotic, often using her sharp tongue or occasionally her fists to settle disputes, though that was the territory that came with growing up with two older brothers.

despite the obvious differences you were drawn to one another like magnets from the first day you met, the yin to one anothers yang, imperfectly balanced.

whenever you'd get upset over something your best friend was by your side in a flash, rubbing circles into the small of your back as her arm would sling over your shoulders, sitting the two of you down and pulling you into a tight side hug.

when your fish died she wrote a speech and organised an entire funeral before the two of you had flushed it down the toilet, the girl holding you tightly and wiping your tears as you both watched him dissapear.

she'd sent murderous glares to her brothers later that night over the dinner table as they teased it was only a fish, almost giving gio a black eye for making you upset again, she may have been smaller than them but she packed a mean punch.

alessia would grab the book from your hands once the bell had gone for lunch, rolling her eyes as she realised you'd not moved an inch beside her, folding the corner of the page to mark your spot despite your fussing over how much you hated the dog eared pages.

the girl alerting you to the time would yank you up and out of your seat, having already packed up your things for you, your bookbag in her other hand as she bounced eagerly on the balls of her feet, whinging that everyone else had already left as she'd pull you outside.

she'd drag you to where the two of you always sat, handing you back your book and dropping both your bags at your feet. she'd take a seat beside you and rummage around for her lunch, pulling it out and giving you half her sandwich as you did the same with your own. the brunette would quickly swallow both halves in three bites much to your disgust, chattering away to you with a mouthful of food as she did.

it was then you'd open your book again, settling back into where you'd left off as alessia would sprint away with a handful of crisps she'd snuck from your lunchbox. she'd long given up trying to bug you to join in when she'd play football or rough house around at lunch, content to just leave you to your book where she could still see you.

there were rare occasions where she'd stay with you glued to your side, the two of you sat together playing a card game or she'd ask you to read to her. she might not have been very good with speaking about how she felt, but it was on those days that you knew she wasn't her normal self even if she refused to acknowledge it.

it was those days you'd say you were off to the toilet and make a beeline for the canteen, using your pocket money to buy her a chocolate bar and rushing back, wordlessly slipping it into her bookbag for her to find later on.

though most of the time the bell would go and the cycle would repeat itself all over again, your best friend hurrying over and snatching your book, again folding over the page and grabbing both your bags and your hand. pulling you with her back to the classroom, talking your ear off as you hummed every now and then to show you were listening.

you'd both settle back at your desks, your hand tapping at her knee to stop it bouncing as she came down from the adrenaline of running around for the last half hour. you'd make sure to tilt your work pages so she could read them, copying down your answers with an occasional glance to the board feigning that she was paying any sort of attention.

the two of you spent almost every afternoon at one anothers houses, the routine of your weekly adventures like clockwork. you were forever joined at the hip, following one another around like shadows amusing your parents to no end given just how different the two of you were, and how you used those differences as your greatest strengths to lift one another up, you always had.

"you said we would swap!" you huffed in annoyance, hands on your hips as you stared down your best friend as she readied herself to kick again. "no, i said if you stopped one then we could swap." alessia corrected, taking a few steps back and booting the ball, leaving you to yell out and drop to the ground as it narrowly missed smacking you in the head.

"you know this used to be funny to watch, now its just sad." the young striker sighed as she collected the ball and tucked it under her arm, grabbing your top and hauling you to your feet, brushing off the dirt from your knees.

"why do i need to be your target practice? i could be reading while you do this, if im not stopping anything what use am i as a keeper?" you protested, quickly jumping to the side as she fired off another shot which swooshed into the back of the net behind you.

"god you and your books, such a dork." alessia groaned, jogging over to grab the ball again. "i need to practice shooting as if there was a keeper there, its why they use practice dummies at training for the same thing." she explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"i bet if they printed a book on a football you might be able to read it for once you idiot." you grumbled in annoyance, your best friend pausing her wind up to narrow her eyes. "what was that?" alessia challenged and you recognized the look she was giving you.

"no come on it was a harmless comment, less!" you yelled as the brunette charged toward you, tackling you easily to the ground as the two of you rolled around on the grass. "get off!" you demanded as she sat on top of you, your hands pinned under her knees.

"say sorry for calling me an idiot!" "no! you are an idiot!" "fine then, you brought this on yourself." "don't you dare-alessia!" you yelled out, thrashing under her as the girl bent down to spit on the ground, mixing it with her fingers to create a saliva based mud from the dirt. "you're so gross, please don't!" "say sorry then." the girl grinned wickedly, collecting some mud on her hand and hovering it over your face teasingly.

"alessia get off of her right now! you are worse than your brothers sometimes." saved by the bell. the bell being carol russo, your angel and saviour. the older woman stood on the back deck waiting expectantly for the two of you, hands on her hips and tapping her foot impatiently.

"its getting dark, time to come inside. get a move on girls!" alessia rolled her eyes at her mums calls and wiped her hand on your top, which was technically hers anyway, rolling off of you. "i hate you!" you shoved at her as you sat up and grimaced in disgust at the large handmark on your top.

"you love me." you gasped as you felt something wet on your cheek, alessia wiping a fingerfull of mud on your face. you let out a strangled war cry and tackled her back to the ground, carol sighing with a shake of her head as the two of you rolled around wrestling like boys, alessia whining as you wiped your cheek on her.

"dinners almost done, come on!" at that you both shot to your feet, racing one another inside, sprinting past the woman who couldn't help but chuckle at your antics. as much as alessia gently bullied you sometimes, she was also your most fierce protector, never afraid to unleash fury on anyone who dared even try to pick on you.

and as much as she adored football, her favourite parts of your friday nights together was staying up late watching movies, huddled together under the blankets giggling and talking in hushed voices until the early hours of the morning, sneaking downstairs for snacks and pretending to be asleep when one of her parents would hear the footsteps and come to check on you.

you'd both lay still under the duvet and hold your breath, playing a dangerous game as you struggled with every fibre of your being not to burst out in laughter, hands tightly squeezed together as you waited till her door clicked close again before collapsing on top of one another giggling, hands quickly covering one anothers mouth as you'd hear her parents sternly warn you both of the time through the closed door.

as infuriating as you both could be as a double act, it had warmed both your parents heart to watch such a special and sincere friendship blossom between you both over the years, which in turn lead to your families being incredibly close as well, your older siblings not too far off alessia's brothers in age.

which is why when you'd both so suddenly stopped seeing one another, stopped mentioning each other, switching the subject when the other was brought up, seemingly erasing yourselves from one anothers lives without a second thought it baffled your families to no end.

they'd of course asked why and inquired about what happened countless amounts of times and you'd both used and abused the excuse that you'd just drifted apart once you left school.

but the truth of the matter was yet another secret only to be shared between the two of you, this one leaving a bitter taste in both your mouths.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

part three

[solarlunarsstuff]

On Top 《|》 Dark!Coriolanus Snow X Tribute!Reader (CH. 2)

Synopsis: Man, getting out of the stupid Capitol zoo and getting to he brutally fucked by a hot blonde is a dream come true.

Tw: P in V, unprotected sex, blood (😱), blood kink (?), rough-ish sex, js smutty shit.

A/n: MY CRUSHS FREAIND SAID I MIGHT HAVE A CHANCE 🙏🙏

Wc: 1785 (oops)

CH. 1 《|》 CH. 2 《|》 CH. 3 (COMING SOON)

After awhile of running and staying out of the light, so you both wouldn't get caught. Coriolanus had brought you to some... house?

Either way, it was a huge house, had a penthouse near the top. No lights were on except for one room that seemed to be below the penthouse.

"Wait here." Coryo said

Without hesitation you backed into a dark corner of the outside part of the house. He entered the building and you heard what seemed to be a... Woman?

Confusion flooded your brain like a broken water dam. You stayed quiet though, Coriolanus was an intimidating man that you did not want to see the angry part of.

After about five or so minutes, he came back out and called you over. You both entered the house that was pitch black.

Coryo whipped out a flashlight, it was dim an it strobed a bit but it still gave you both a sense of direction.

As soon as Coriolanus opened up a door that was probably the penthouse door since you both stumbled up like twenty sets of stairs.

He threw his red coat onto a chair near a desk, it looked like a school uniform. It's hemming was sort of torn.

'He probably picks at it..' I thought to yourself as you awkwardly stood there. You took everything in, the plush pillows, soft mattress, and the way things go beautifully together.

He seated himself on his bed, the cushioning sinking in from his weight.

Coriolanus started to get himself situated, looking through his wardrobe for something more comfortable.

Out if the corner of his eye, he saw you standing there. Not knowing what to do, he thought it was kind of cute.

The way your dress compliments your body, except it was really dirty. His eyes would linger on you for awhile before turning back to his wardrobe.

Coryo got what he needed and set it down on his desk chair that way he could get ready for tomorrow.

"Come.." he told you, his eyes darting straight to make eye contact.

You wobbled your way over to him, he opened up a drawer of clothes that he had borrowed from the woman you heard a few minutes ago.

"Put these on." He said again, handing the clothes to you.

Sleep shorts, white tanktop, and...Panties? Either way, it felt like you were gifted a second life.

"Do you have a bathroom or..." I trailed off, wanting for his response

"No, you change in here. It would be to risky to let you change downstairs." Coryo told you as he undid his white button up.

No joke you were flustered as shit. Changing in front of a guy you barely met? You turned around, not wanting to ask him to turn around also.

You could feel Coriolanus' eyes watching your every move as you slipped your dress straps off of your shoulders.

Moving it down from your chest, and getting it near the underside of your ass. You had heard shifting behind you, paying no attention to it you continued.

Bending over and throwing the dress next to you. You hesitated but you gotten the courage to slip your panties off.

Coriolanus let out a low growl as he saw what the shitty fabric was covering from him. You were about to yell out and tell him to turn around but you kept going.

Finally taking your panties off, you had pulled on the pair that Coryo gave you. Along with the black shorts.

You had your old bra on but realized that he also gave you a bra, just your size.

Yet again you unclipped the backside of the old bra and threw it on the side along your old clothes.

Continuing with your shorts, just leaving your tits on display. You brought the bra up and slipped the straps on and turned to Coriolanus.

"Could you help me?" You pleaded as I faced him, holding the bra in place.

You couldn't reach the clip in the back, he turned you around and helped reclip the bra.

You took note that he had a subtle bulge in his red school wear. He had grabbed a pillow to cover it but he dropped it after he helped you.

You went back to grab your gifted tanktop and put that on and turned back to face him.

"It feels.... Clean.." you mumbled from tiredness and the adrenaline rush from having someone watch you undress yourself.

And not just anybody, a hot blonde.

Coriolanus just nodded and admired you. His cock basically aching to be touched by his hand. No. Your hand.

A better idea, your unused pussy could lull him to sleep, having you clench around his throbbing dick. Having you whine into his ear, and-

"Let's play a game.." a smirk creeping up onto his face.

You nodded yet hesitantly. You slowly walked yourself next to him, you sat down and tried not to squirm to much.

Coryo swiftly grabbed you by your wrists and pushed you onto your back. His smile was completely visible now, his hands achingly squeezing your wrists.

"Let's see how strong my princess really is.." he chuckled lightly

You squirmed, you tried but even if you got away from him, how would you outrun him?

You already had a difficult time running along with him over here. Your stomach did flips, his long legs are open and slotted between your open thighs.

His messy blonde hair falling to the sides of his face as he looked down at you.

"Such a pity.." his hands danced around your chest

"My pretty girl can't even fight, how are you going to win the Hunger Games?" He cooed

You whined, that did it for him, your whine wanted him to rip the clothes you just put on off of you.

His hips started involuntarily moving into your clothed cunt. You poor district girl, you're going to let your mentor fuck you?

I guess that's why they called you the town slut. You've never had sex with anybody, you only craved touch.

So to speak, you are a virgin. Or I should say soon that wouldn't be very true in the next few minutes.

"Fuck.." Coriolanus cursed

He got up, stripped his dress pants off and threw them onto the ground somewhere. He had tighty whiteys on.

Is it hot? Yes, yes it is. Did you want him to fuck you? Absolutely.

You propped yourself onto your elbows and watched how he got back and grabbed the top of your shorts and hastily pulled them down and tossing them.

"Oh my fuckin' god.." he mumbled as he saw how atrociously wet you were. Coryo's finger found its way playing with your clit like it was a toy.

Your hips jerked as he inserted his finger into your needy hole. His middle finger rubbing against the inside of your walls while his thumb was putting pressure onto your pretty clit.

Codiolanus's left hand pushed the bottom of your thigh up so he could reach deeper.

"Such a pretty pussy.." he mumbled, it was like he was in his own world

Your moans were erotic. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, he was knuckles deep in you. Already shoving two fingers into your wet cunt.

"Shhh, my cousin l' hear if you don't shut up.." he demanded

His fingers started to pick up the pace, "Fuck- hic -I-m sorr-ry Coryo- hic-" you started hiccuping

Your right hand held his hand that was holding your thigh up while the other was gripping his silky white sheets.

"Gonna c-" before you could finish his fingers pulled out. Coryo brought his fingers up to his mouth and lapped up your juices like it was water from the fountain of youth.

"So fuckin' sweet.." he moaned

Letting go of your thigh, he rubbed his clothed dick. Coryo pulled his bottoms down enough to where his cock flipped out and slapped against his abdomen.

Precum started to gather at his red tip, it looked sort of purple for being denied for so long.

You've never seen a dick this big, your mouth of basically watering when he started trying to hold back his whimpers when stroking himself.

You just layed back thinking about hoe you would survive the games but that thought was long gone once his tip started tugging at your entrance.

Your eyes shot open as you looked down to find him struggling to get inside of you.

"So damn tight'!" He groaned as he tried to bottom out.

After wriggling and praising your way through it, he finally bottomed. You both huffed out thankfully.

Coryo was actually nice enough to let you get used to his size. "This might hurt, love.." Coriolanus grunted as he started to roll his hips into your's.

Your moans were ecstasy. It was music to his ears, he wanted and needed more. Coryos' eyes dilated as he saw a bit of blood trickle out of your glory hole.

He smiled, this sadistic ass mother-fucker. Coriolanus' chuckled as he saw how your eyes rolled back, your mouth gaped open into an 'o' shape.

"Like that, huh?" He praised as his hips moved faster.

Coryo's thumb slithered onto your clit, rubbing it simitaniously as he thrusted his hips letting his cum-filled balls slap your ass.

"F-fuck, Coryo!" You breathed out

"Gonna cum baby?" He said as he continued to mark your body harshly

"C'mon, cum f' me" Coriolanus cried out in ecstasy

Your cunt clenched around his throbbing erection. But he didn't stop, no, you poor baby. He kept on going.

Your cries for stop and I can't go anymore where blocked out by Coryo trying to reach his own release.

He bent your legs back and held the back of your thighs, pushing your knees near your ears.

Your eyes shot open as the tip of his cock met with your sweet spot. Tears were threatening to fall out of your eyes from the pleasure you were receiving.

"Shit, gonna fill m' baby doll up with all of my cum!" Was the last thing he said before spilling hot ropes of his seed deep into your womb.

Coriolanus's hips slowed down a little as he silently pumped his cum deeper into you while breathing heavily.

He slumped up and grabbed a rag, he wiped the excess cum that flew out near your thighs. Pulling your panties up and keeping them snug on your hips.

Coryo gave a kiss on your forehead. "My snowflake..." he mumbled while wrapping his arms around you.

You both fell asleep as rain pattered at his window, lulling you to sleep.

[weaselle]

@ffoxer howdy! happy to oblige :)

i used to have a dresser and a bunch of hangers in my closet and like, closet organizer thingamabobs, but instead of using any of that stuff my clothes were always in several piles around my room.

And i felt shitty about it all the time but couldn't seem to make myself the kind of person who kept their clothes folded and organized. My room was constantly cluttered with clothes like drifts of snow scattered and piled here and there. Like, i felt really REALLY shitty about that. Deep shame

any ADHDers and spoonies out there relate?

SO one day, i said to myself, what if i'm okay the way i am? What if i just need to refine how i already do things a little bit instead of insisting on reinventing my entire identity?

Did i really care about being the kind of person who's socks were rolled just so, and whose shirts were all folded perfectly and arranged by color or whatever?

no

What i did care about was not living in a cluttered, messy, unorganized, embarrassing space.

And it turns out my piles WERE an organization system. What's more, my piles were a system that had been shaped by the way i actually use my clothes, it was a system that made sense for how i live my life. And i bet it's the same for most of you who relate to what i've been saying so far.

There were the clothes that were dirty, the clothes that had been worn but could be worn again, and the clean clothes (often dumped from the washer to the bed with the intent of folding and putting away, then slept next to when that didn't happen, and finally transferred to the floor next to my bed or piled in my closet once i gave up)

These three piles (dirty, clean, wear again) made up my "i wear this stuff all the time" wardrobe, and then everything else was still in the dresser i never actually used, with a few remaining almost-never-worns hanging in the closet.

This made my dresser, essentially, just a bin of clothes i could label "rarely wear"

And the thing i hated about my piles was that they looked messy, and took up too much space, and cluttered my room, and anyone who came into my room instantly assumed i was a disaster of a human because that's what it looked like. And, honestly, that's what it felt like too.

But i could change all of that and still have piles if i just... put my piles in bins! Then they would clearly be on purpose. And contained. And on purpose contained piles aren't a mess! They're a tidy organizational system.

So i got rid of my dresser and most of my hangers and i bought four of those plastic bins with the lids that you can get anywhere from hardware stores to target. Now, if you want to inhabit a fancier lifestyle, you can get nicer bins, they make all kinds, from canvas to wicker to polished wood or whatever suits your style and budget, I'm currently using the plastic ones, but when i move i'm planning on getting something more like this

the point is, these bins contain my piles without me having to change the piles at all.

now instead of having to sort all that stuff into different drawers i just have 4 simple bins

1: clean clothes

2: dirty clothes

3: stuff i might wear a second (or third) time

4: clothes i almost never wear

remember how those first three piles make up my "wear all the time" stuff? Well, each of the first two bins are big enough to contain all those clothes (which for me is about two loads of laundry).

I have a smaller bin for clothes i've worn but could wear again. And the last one, almost-never-wear, is actually the biggest one. And naturally a couple almost-never-wear things still get hung in the closet.

So when my "wear all the time" bin is empty, that means the dirty bin is about full, and i just add the might-wear-again stuff to it and carry that bin to the washer. When it comes out of the dryer, i still follow my natural instincts to dump them in a pile and forget about them, it's just now i dump that pile into the clean bin, where they belong.

And when i'm digging for something in the bin and can't find it, just like when i would dig in my closet, i can just dump it all out on my bed to find things like i used to, but then it goes back in the bin with a sweep of the arm.

The clothes naturally sort themselves out this way, too. Say every time you go to do your laundry because you "have nothing to wear" there are the same few items left in the bottom of your clean bin. Well those are clearly part of your almost-never-wears and you can dump them in that bin before you wash your laundry. When the weather gets cold, i put most of my shorts and tank-tops in the almost-never-wear bin. I make room for them by taking out my everyday winter wear to go in the clean bin.

I can put the bins where it makes the most sense for how i use my room naturally. For instance, my sweatshirts and jeans i might wear again always used to wind up draped over the back of my desk chair, so now i put my could-wear-again bin right by my desk. If I want my room to be extra tidy, i just stack all the bins in the closet where the dresser used to be, which takes like twenty seconds.

and the BEST part is, because my bins are just the piles i was naturally already creating, my clothes stay in their bins, which is inarguably a system of organization, and my room is actually clean and orderly, no messy clothes piles in sight!

i did a similar thing with my paper piles and now there's very little clutter and i don't feel like a failure of a person about my room the way i used to!

I have accomplished Clean Organized Room without having to change who i am or how i live! 10/10 highly recommend

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

tw: dom fem!reader, sub!wonwoo, dry humping, nipple play, dirty talk, slight objectification, inspired by this tweet (the link is safe, I promise), established relationship!AU, a few fluffy - minors dni

"Are you sure there won't be any problem with you leaving with the stage outfit?"

"Yeah, don't worry about it, I've already notified the staff about it, I'll bring them back without a scratch."

"Okay then," you smile and focus on the road, stealing a few glances from your boyfriend, who's on the verge of dozing off in the passenger's seat.

You can't blame him though - he truly gave it his all during the awards performance, so he definitely deserves some good sleep after that.

You nudge him awake when you park in front of your apartment block and he sleepily nods before getting out of the car, nearly dragging his feet all the way to the apartment entrance and to the bedroom.

"There's a pair of your sweats in the top drawer of my wardrobe!" You shout from the bathroom while removing your makeup.

"Thanks babe!" Wonwoo yells back as he fiddles with his performance clothes.

"Oh come on, where are the fucking buttons?" He murmurs in frustration.

"Won, do you need hel-" You enter the room and stop in your tracks when you see your boyfriend struggling to take off his remaining clothing article - a semi-sheer white bodysuit.

"Wonwoo, what are you wearing?"

"It was for the performance, I swear!" He defends himself, "But it's so hard to take it off."

"That's what you think, baby," you come closer to him and push him flat on the bed, climbing on his lap. All of a sudden, Wonwoo feels very much awake - and very much exposed.

"Um, Y/N? I don't think that's gonna help with taking off the bodysuit-"

"Don't worry, big boy," you smooth your palms over his body and his exposed hipbones, making your boyfriend shudder from the contact. You notice the evident bulge and tut in a disapproving way - the one that always makes Wonwoo's stoic facade crumble like a tower of paper cards.

"No underwear at all, darling? The stylists must have had a field trip with you today."

"I a-asked to wear the bodysuit on m-my own, wearing underwear would be uncomfortable," he stutters, voice turning whiny with each nudge of your crotch towards his clothed cock.

"Oh? And what if your pretty cock started leaking in the middle of the performance, hmm? I know how high of an adrenaline rush you get when you're on stage," you barely drag your nails over his torso, reaching up to his firm chest.

"I-I'm not a teenage boy anymore." Wonwoo grits his teeth to suppress the moan bubbling in his throat.

"You're definitely getting excited like one," you chuckle and nod towards his already hardened cock, straining against the material of the bodysuit.

"Fuck, Y/N..." he moans lowly, "I can't stain it, I'll get in trouble," he bucks his hips to get more friction, a burning blush adorning his cheeks.

"I certainly feel like you don't mind getting into trouble," you flash a devilish grin and run your hands over Wonwoo's nipples, making his body jolt, accompanied by a loud gasp.

"Y-Y/N, fuck, p-please don't stop!" He begs you, his voice reduced to airy, whiny moans, nothing compared to his usual deep tone. He's far too gone into pleasure, letting you have your way with him.

"If only you knew how pretty you look right now, Woo - Like a doll made of the finest porcelain," you shake your hips on top of him, grinding your clothed pussy harder on his dick, "My own pretty, big, broad doll who I can play with whenever I want."

With a few more tugs and twists of your fingers on his nipples, Wonwoo lets out a loud moan and cums, his sticky load staining the bodysuit and his skin, leaving wet blotches on the thin material. A thin layer of sweat covers his body, making the flimsy clothing cling onto his skin deliciously.

"You okay?" You ask him softly, cupping his cheeks and you let out a sigh of relief when he nods affirmatively.

"Yeah...Just need to take that off my body," he tries to get up, "And wash it right away."

"Don't worry, I'll hand wash it and it'll be as good as new," you reach for the buttons in the crotch and carefully remove it off him.

"You better!" He gives you a warning glare.

"Are you insinuating that you didn't like it?" You raise your eyebrow in question.

"The orgasming part? I definitely did. The cleaning part? Nope." He gives you an honest answer and you roll your eyes.

"I'll put it in the water and some Tide to soak in for a couple of minutes," you get up, "I'll bring you a towel to clean you up as well, can't have you sleeping with cum all over your abs."

Wonwoo supports his torso on his elbow, a dirty smirk plastered on his face.

"What? Weren't you feeling sleepy half an hour ago?"

"Do you really believe I would still be sleepy after an orgasm like that, sweetheart?"

[caramel-whiskeys-writing]

Ciel Phantomhive ~ Prepares a bath For You

Black Butler Masterlist

It had been a long and tough few days at the manor, and you had done so much work that Ciel was starting to get worried that maybe you were overworking yourself. You were currently in the garden, pulling out weeds, re-planting flowers, and trimming the hedges, anything to make the garden look freshly tended to. Your hands were covered in dirt, and you had some on your work pants that you had begged Ciel to give you since working a garden in a skirt isn't quite easy or comfortable. Time seemed to have passed a lot faster than you had thought, as evidenced by Ciel wearing his evening clothes. Walking up to you with Sebastian behind him, Ciel was shocked that you were still working in the garden and hadn't seemed to have stopped for a break. You rubbed your forehead of sweat as you spoke to Ciel.

"Oh, hi, young master." You leaned back on your knees looking at the work you had done for today, and Ciel replied,

"What are you still doing out here?" You look at him frowning.

"You've done so much work this week. Have you given yourself a break?" You smiled lightly at his concern and said back,

"Oh, don't worry about me. I enjoy working here, and the garden desperately needs working." Ciel leaned onto his cane and sighed before saying to Sebastian,

"Sebastian. Start a warm bath for her while I try and get this woman to stop working."

"Yes, young master." Sebastian bowed and quickly headed off back inside. You stood up and told Ciel,

"I'm not leaving this garden until I finish it. I'm okay working this much, really." Ciel shook his head and told you to follow him. You weren't planning on going anywhere, but it threw you off that he started walking and didn't stop walking back to the manor, so you followed. Sighing out loud as you got inside, you noticed just how dirty your clothes and hands were, and you thought to yourself how dirty my face is right now? Despite Ciel walking with a cane and being decently short he walked very quickly, and you realized that you were tired and maybe a warm bath was just the thing that you needed to get more energy back before working yourself to death again tomorrow. Once you both got to your room, Ciel asked if he could look through your wardrobe.

"Why?"

"Well, I have quite a touch for fancy clothes, and I know that after a long day, it feels really nice to wear good quality clothing." You chuckled a bit before telling him to go ahead, but don't open the bottom drawer. He nodded his head as you walked over to the bathroom to where Sebastian was checking the water that he had prepared for you. You quickly said your thanks to him, and he left quite quickly. Maybe he has other work to do, you thought. Once Ciel had picked out some clothes for you he placed them on the side counter as you stood there waiting to see if maybe he even wanted to pick what to put in the bath as he seems to know what he was talking about. Out of the blue, Ciel said to you,

"It's not common for me to see women wearing pants, but I think maybe I'll have it be a part of the maid and servant uniform." You raise your eyebrow at him in confusion, and then it hits you, but before you could say anything, Ciel said what you were thinking out loud.

"Those pants look good on you." Your face blushed, and you noticed he did a little because sure what did he just say to you? After a few seconds of silence, Ciel asked where the bath products were kept. You pointed to underneath the sink, and he bent down to look at what you had. After maybe about two minutes, he stood back up and stated that he had no idea what would go in a bath besides water. You laugh at him, and he frowns in return. You kneeled beside him and told him what things were cleaning products and which ones were bath salts and such. After some talking, he picked a few scents and poured them into the bath, mixing them into the water with his ungloved hand. Before he left, he dropped a few gold flakes into the bath and stood back, acting proud that he had just mixed together his first bath. Right before he was going to leave, you asked him which scents he put in.

"Well, at first, I wasn't quite sure what to use, so I think I added some..." He went and looked over at the bottles that he had used and read the label.

"Cactus nectar, cucumber, umm there's some aloe infused stuff to help with any cuts you might have and umm... oh, there are violet leaves and a slight floral scent, too. I'm not sure if it'll be a strong scent, though. I don't think I added enough. "You smiled at him and said," Gave him your thanks. " He smiled back and had one last comment to say before leaving.

"Oh, and umm... I added those scents because I thought maybe they'll smell nice on you." You blushed lightly as he left; after he said that, all you could think about was the smell of the bath that you were currently relaxing in.

[missshinazugawa]

I BEG YOUR FINEST FUCKING PARDON???!

MY BABY GURL, MY DEAR HUSBAND IS SO FINE??

HIS HAND, HIS HAND WHEN HE JUMPS TO THE ROOFTOP, GAWD THE BACK VIEW OF HIM, IT SEEMS LIKE HE'S PROTECTING US 😔😔😔😔

HE SOUND SO HAWT, U COULD LITERALLY TELL HIS VOICE WOULD BE SO SOFT AND GENTLE ASF WHEN HE TALKS TO U WITH TIRED VOICE AND LOWER TONE

dayum the way the blood showered his body 😔

obviously, video's not mine, credit to @ktritmzilt_ on tiktok, i don't got no balls filming in cinema.

Bonus below

tw: mention of blood, spoilers, some curse words, oc x canon

trope: they currently still in friendzone 😔

The pale crescent moon shine like a silvery claw in the night sky. Under the moonlight, a white haired man just got back from his mission and is heading to the headquarter along the gravel road with blood soaking his whole body.

The Snow Hashira notice a man with blood all over his body before realizing it's the Wind Hashira Shinazugawa Sanemi.

“Nemi?” Yukino calls out to his nickname before rushing towards Sanemi. “Are you okay?! Are you hurt anywhere?!” She turns Sanemi around to check if there's any injuries on him, lifting his arms checking his side, or even cup his face to observe any possible wound with worried written all over her face as she frowns.

Suddenly, a hand full of scars grab Yukino's hand to stop her, “I'm fine, these are all demon's blood,” Sanemi put down her hand gently before looking into Yukino's heterochromia eyes. “For now, I suggest you do not touch me, or else the blood might stain your shirt or dirty your hands.”

“Glad you were unharmed. But I do need to remind you to throw this uniform away... because... obviously...” Yukino can't help but to look up and down Sanemi's entire figure with the crimson red spreading all over the fabric of his demon slayer uniform, especially the snow white haori that Sanemi is wearing. Sanemi did not answer as he simply stare at Yukino blankly.

After reporting to the headquarters, both of the hashiras decide to walk back to their mansion. Throughout the walk, both of them were silence, like the foosteps of the ants can be heard by them. Yukino's eyes moving left and right, up and down, pretending to look around her surroundings. On the other hand, Sanemi was thinking about the akwardness too, he glances at Yukino time to time. The walls between them is killing both of them.

Finally, they arrived at Sanemi's mansion gate, the walk feels like it has been long like iternity for them. Sanemi step before the threshold, saying goodbye to Yukino before closing the door when suddenly a hand stopped him from closing the door. “Can I...stay here for the night?”

They've been staying at each other's house ever since they became closer and closer as friends. The Wind Hashira's brows knitted in confusion, but his knitted brow got relaxed in second.“Come inside.” After letting Yukino in, he closes the door and head back inside his mansion. Yukino is happy that she get to stay in Sanemi's house once again.

“I'm going to take a shower. You know where to get your own futon right?” Sanemi turns to his back to ask Yukino if she remembers where to get extra futon. “Yep. It's in the cupboards right?” “Mhm.” Sanemi nodded before entering the bathroom.

After taking a shower Sanemi felt satisfied as he walk out of the bathroom, wiping his hair using a cloth with a towel wrapped around his waist. Throwing away his blood soaked uniform into a basket made of rattan, he slowly walk back to his room to get his clothes.

The door slides open, what appeared infront of Sanemi's purple eyes was Yukino patting her futon on the wooden floor, she seemed to has changed her uniform into a white kimono that she found in one of the drawers in Sanemi's room.

Hearing the door slid open, Yukino turns around to see Sanemi standing at the door with naked upper body. Seeing that makes Yukino quickly turns away to avoid looking at him.

Sanemi scoffed at her reaction, he slide the door close and head towards his wardrobe. Yukino'ss heartbeat gradually beat at a very fast speed, the sight of his muscular body could not leave her mind.

Sanemi takes out a forest green kimono from the drawer. “Turn around, I need to change.” He tells Yukino. “Oh, alright-” Yukino quickly turns around, making sure she would not see anything that is not appriopriate.

The sound of clothes rustling is loud in the room, Yukino's mind still could not get off the sight of Sanemi having wet hair and just fresh from getting a shower.

“Yuki?” Sanemi calls out her name.

“Yuki!” Sanemi finished dressing up and place the towel around his neck. The towel hanging on his neck as he slowly approaching Yukino that is sitting on her futon with her back facing him.

Seeing her did not respond to his call at all, he sit behind Yukino and proceed to place his head on her shoulder.

“Snowflake?”

“Ahhh!” Yukino lets out a small scream.

“The fuck are you doing?” Sanemi lift one of his eyebrow in confusion and worry as he stare at her while still placing his head on her shoulder. “Why are you screaming?”

“Oh my fucking god...Nemi...you scared me!” She lets out a sigh of relief and pat her chest, trying to calm the heart attack she received earlier.

“What? Did you do anything guilty? That's why you scared?” Sanemi teases her.

“No Nemi...” She gives him an unpleasant expression on her face as she rolls her eyes.

“What? Is there any posibility that you are blushing right now?”

“No- the fuck you're thinking-”

“Then what is it that makes you like this? I called your name two times and you still didn't respond until I place my head here on your shoulder.” Sanemi was curious what is Yukino embarassed about.

“Nothing.” Yukino tries to hide the truth. “Oh tell me,” Sanemi smirks, “Hmmmm....” He starts humming in question as he hug Yukino's waist from behind. “Is it because of my half naked body that you saw earlier?”

“HELL NO!” Yukino immediately deny his words in panic as she start pushing his arms away from her waist, trying to get out of his grip.

But Sanemi's arm would not budge, his grip is too firm but not to the point it hurts. Yukino is struggling to get off from his grip but she gives up anyway.

“You've seen my exposed muscles for years now...why still embarass about it?” Sanemi teases her again, making Yukino speechless. “You even touched it before.” Sanemi start cackling.

“Okay- Sh- shut up!!” Yukino's face starts to have redness spreading across her cheeks as she tries to cover Sanemi's mouth. “Come on, anyone saw my muscles because of my unbuttoned shirt.”

“That is because you're a whore!” Yukino says it out loud. “Oh yeah? Well you're getting punishment for saying that.” Suddenly, Sanemi starts tickling her waist, making Yukino immediately laughs at the tickleness. “Stop! HAHAHA- Nemi! Please! Hahahhahahaha!”

Sanemi finally stops tickling her after getting Yukino lying on her futon laughing while holding her stomach. Yukino shed tears for laughing too hard and Sanemi is grinning at the sight as he sit beside her futon.

It took some time for Yukino to stop laughing and flip to her side to face Sanemi. “You don't have to do me like this.” Yukino pouts, feeling unsatisfied with the tickle punishment.

Seeing Yukino pouting, Sanemi decide to pull his futon and place it beside Yukino's futon before lay down with her. He lay on his side to look at Yukino.

The light outside the window cast a hazy soft light, creating some blue hue to the room, making the atmosphere feel calm and quiet that Sanemi and Yukino could hear each other's breathing.

What Sanemi see is that the moonlight behind him casted on Yukino's whole figure, highlighting her beauty, making his pupils dilates as he was captivated by her. Especially her blue and green eyes, Sanemi was not sure which eye to look first, overwhelming his feelings.

The silence is too loud, so Yukino wanted to start a conversation. “How's your mission earlier? Why do you have so many blood soaking your body?” Yukino genuinely curious about him being covered with blood earlier.

Sanemi did not respond, his eyes were still focusing on Yukino and his mind is in another world.

“Nemi?” Yukino calls out his name softly.

“Yes?” Sanemi was brought back to reality by her call. His pupil goes back to normal.

“Care to explain what happened during your mission earlier and why there's so many blood covering your whole body?”

“Oh yeah...me and Obanai was trying to chase a demon that was carrying a woman on his shoulder. But we notice there's so many demons gathered together in that one building he ran towards to. So meanwhile I'm trying to chase the demon, Obanai hold all the demons outside.” Sanemi explained calmly.

“So...did you catch that demon yet? Is the woman safe?” Yukino ask questions again while she pulls the blanket to cover herself, wanting to relax when Sanemi is telling her the mission's whole process.

“Well no, it sucks. But atleast we saved the woman, he literally threw her down and good thing Obanai caught her. Then we start chasing him again but we seem to fall into a strange looking dimension, I'm trying to slice that fucking demon but in a blink of an eye, the dimension comes back to normal and my sword hit the ground.”

Processing the story, Yukino's eyes look around the room and trying to imagine what did Sanemi just said. But she failed to do so as she frowns, she even starts to yawn trying to figure out what happened when Sanemi trying to slice the demon.

Seeing Yukino's confusion written all over her face, a smile twitched at the corner of Sanemi's mouth. His eyes softens as he reaches his scarred hand to boop Yukino's nose before pulling her close to his embrace.

Yukino's eyes widened in surprise, she does not quite understand why Sanemi wanted to hug her so sudden but she returns the hug to him. Yukino lets out a soft noise showing she feels relaxed in Sanemi's warmth.

Sanemi slid his hands into Yukino's gradiented hair, sending a spark of electricity down her spine. He gently combs through her hair.

They did not say anything. Slowly, their eyes starts to get heavier and heavier, before finally closing their eyes and sleep in each other's embrace.

For those who read it till the ned, hope you have both sides of your pillow being cold.

[biblioklept-writes]

Massage (Modern!Aemond)

Summary: In which, you take care of Modern!Aemond after a stressful day at work.

Word Count: 1090 words of pure fluff :D

Can be read as a standalone, or as my Stargirl Reader!

A/N: A short piece that i cooked up off my mid-term stress, as my stress reliever. Also can we appreciate how beautiful Ewan is I just cant get enough of his pretty face

HOTD Masterlist

“Hey champ,” you ruffle Daeron’s hair as you make your presence known at the Targaryen Penthouse - currently shared by the youngest sons of Alicent. Daeron is your boyfriend Aemond’s little brother, and you love him like he is yours. You share the same taste in music and he looks up to you for career guidance, which you are glad to assist him with. “How has college been?”

“I’m coping,” He admits. “Better experience than school was.”

“See, I told you.” You smile at him, sitting beside him on the couch. You reach for your bag and take out the box you had gotten specially for him. “I think you would like this,” you hand him over the box, and the young man twirls it in his hands for a moment and shakes it to guess what it is.

“What is it?” He asks. You motion for him to open it, and he neatly opens the wrapper, a bright, dimpled smile gracing his face and violet eyes shining brighter than the stars. “This is the best mouse! Thank you so much, I love it.”

“I know you could use this, champ.” You say, smiling at him. “Where is your brother?”

“Oh, Aemond just got home from work,” He says, his smile dimming. “He was complaining about his neck and back, and went to his room without eating.”

“I should go check up on him,” You say.

“You’re the only one he even listens to,” Daeron sighs. “You and if the day’s luck he listens to Helaena.” 

Taking a glass of milk and a couple of cookies, you go up the stairs to Aemond’s room. The room is unlocked, and you utilise the girlfriend privilege of entering without knocking. You find Aemond relaxing on his armchair with the sleeves of his black shirt pulled over his elbow and his collar open. His tie and the green suit jacket are laying on the floor, very uncharacteristic of your put-together man. His long silver hair is free of any confines, but it’s messy - he seems to have run his fingers multiple times through them.

You leave the tray at his desk and pick up his suit jacket and the tie, putting them in the dirty laundry drawer. You make your presence known with a forced cough. “Are you in need of any assistance, Mr. Targaryen?” you politely ask.

His violet eye abruptly opens at the sound of your voice, and he throws his head back with a sigh. “You shouldn’t have bothered with me, my love.” He says, closing his eye again. “You have enough worries as is.”

“We’ve barely been spending any time together,” You complain. “And your brother tells me you have neck and back pains. Maybe your age is catching up to you, old man. I order you to undress now.”

A playful smirk dances on his lips at your command, but he makes no motion to move. “You said it yourself, age is catching up with your old man.” He teases. “You should be doing the work instead of ordering me around, love.”

You chuckle despite yourself, “Come on Aemond, let me help you.”

“Whatever the missus says,” Aemond lazily extracts himself from the armchair, stretching his long limbs as he does. You go through his wardrobe and throw him the comfortable grey pants that you adore, looking for the balms or oils that you could use. You find a pain relief gel and coconut oil and smile at the little victory.

“What would your next command be, your highness?” He teases again. Some of the tension in his brow disappears as he pulls his sweatpants up, leaving him bare chested. You are half distracted by the sight of the smooth planes of his stomach and his pecs, but you tell yourself it’s not the time now.

“Lie down on your stomach,” You say with a cheeky grin. He raises his brow but does as you say, and you sit beside him, kicking off your slippers before throwing a leg over his arse and sitting on him. “And tell me where it hurts.”

“I’m fine,” he lies, and you throw a threatening glare at him. “My neck, the whole spine actually.” he concedes at your burning gaze.

“See, it was this easy.” You say. 

Aemond flinches once the cool gel touches his warm back, but relaxes once you start rubbing the gel gently into his skin. You rub the gel along his spine, paying more attention to his long neck and broad shoulders, making do with coconut oil as your massaging medium. Your thumbs trace gentle circular patterns on the zones that usually hurt you the most when you are stressed and take your time massaging his neck, pushing his luscious hair out of the way. Aemond occasionally makes a pleased hum or lets out a sigh and you are focused on the task at hand, making your boyfriend relax with all the stress his father puts him through.

You are thorough with your pampering, reaching every spot that you can, massaging away the knots on his back. You press your thumbs on either side of his spine, and he lets out a pleased sigh, as you continue your motion up and down his spine a couple of times. You squeeze his muscular forearms and strong shoulders, taking weight off the joints that easily carried yours. 

“How are you feeling now?” You softly ask. Getting no response, you check up on your boyfriend, who seemingly fell asleep with the relaxation of your ministrations. 

You smile to yourself and get off him, and he stirs, grumbling, “Stay.”

“I’ll just get changed into something more comfortable,” you say.

He sits up rubbing his eye like a child, a pout on his pink lips, and you are overtaken with cuteness aggression. Seeing this as the perfect opportunity, you hand over the tray of milk and cookies, saying, “The faster you finish all of this, the faster I’ll join you on the bed.”

Half asleep and frowning to keep himself sleepy, Aemond follows your instructions without complaint as you change into a pair of shorts and a tank top that you’ve left here. By the time you return, only two of the five cookies remain, and the glass of milk has been finished by this man-child of your sleepy lover. Sharing the half of the last cookie with him, you feel at peace.

You run your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp as he snuggles into your neck, breathing in your homely scent.