#not about gods but about his own moral standards | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jeanbie · 3 months

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HIGHER THAN HEAVEN ★ masterlist.

pairing: levi x reader

genre: university au | warnings: sexual content, fem/afab!reader, masturbation, listening-to-the-other-fucking, sexual tension, slut/whore shaming (men being pigs), "slutty"!reader, mentions of spit | wc: 10.7k | ♬

note: why has this been a wip for like...a year? also i always like to try out new versions of levi and i feel like he'd actually be just a normal kinda grumpy guy in a modern setting so i hope u guys like my uni!levi interpretation ꒰* ॢꈍ◡ꈍ ॢ꒱.*˚

⏤ Levi wants to be mad that his neighbour keeps screwing guys really loudly. But how can he be mad when she's just so goddamn pretty?

It's the third time this week.

Levi knows what it means to let off steam, and he knows that exam season has just finished. For the last few days, the volume of noise where he lives has climbed exponentially; flats throwing parties, yelling in the hallways and laughter outside his window.

Levi's happy, too, that his exams are over, but he has to admit, he thought there might be moral standards from the people he called neighbours.

He sighs, momentarily tapping down the volume of his music as he hears what he thinks might be his neighbour against the shared wall. The sound is fleeting, and he almost thinks he's making it up, and then he hears her soft whimpers and two hard thuds against the thin separation between their bedrooms. Levi waits for a second, blinking, and then he closes his eyes.

He's never really met his neighbour. It's been around eight months of living next door to one another, and he doesn't think he's actually ever seen her. Once, he decided he'd try to confront her when she left her room, but just kept missing the opportunity.

Unlike his previous three years of university, Levi had decided to bunk alone for the final climb of his undergrad degree. His friends would all be upstairs somewhere, either in studios of their own or sharing six-bed flats amongst themselves, but God knew that Levi needed the space this time around.

In his first year, he'd shared with quite possibly the worst human beings he'd ever had the displeasure of knowing. He spent more time at Erwin's flat than his own, which is why he ended up moving in with him in his second year. Then, he took a spontaneous study abroad for his third year (spontaneous, as in all of his friends were doing the same thing, and there was no way he was staying here on his own when they were out having the greatest times in different countries), and now, in his fourth and final year, Levi just wants to know that being alone doesn't have to be a luxury.

He needs the space, and the quiet. Granted, his studio is spacious, although it would be perfect if he wasn't on the ground floor with little to work with for a view. Eight months down the line, and he's still waiting for that promised peace and quiet.

There are two other people in this hallway, but his next-room neighbour, Room A, is by far the most interesting. He knows that the people in Room D are party animals, and during freshers week, they made that fact glaringly obvious. Room C are ghostly, silent most of the time until they remember that they, too, have music to play to block out other people's noise.

Levi likes being in Room B because it's not too far from the exit. If he were to open his door, he'd be adjacent to Room A; the space is so tight that he's not even sure they would be able to leave or enter at the same time.

The list of what he thinks he knows about his next-room neighbour is longer than what he actually knows. He knows for certain that she's female, and that she cares about the cleanliness of her flat. If Levi's not listening to the sound of other people's mess, he can hear her vacuuming every other day, which he can respect.

Levi knows that her name is Y/N, because he's heard it being called a few times, both for business and pleasure. He also knows that she's in her final year, just like him, because once he overheard her on a phone call complaining about her dissertation. That's about all he knows confidently.

The rest is speculation, things he thinks he knows from listening: he thinks she sleeps with the radiator off, because he always hears the switch in the morning. He thinks she keeps her keys on her door because he hears them clink when it closes, and he thinks she mumbles to herself sometimes, because the walls are thin and if she's not on the phone, then who could she be talking to?

Finally, Levi thinks that she might be a bit of a whore, and he means it endearingly, because the amount of times Levi has heard her fucking somebody is becoming ridiculous.

At first, Levi tried to be understanding. After all, it wasn't like she was screwing guys in the hallway. She was in her room, in her own time, and he tried to come to terms with that simply being out of his hands. The noise was unfortunate, yeah, but he could always put his headphones on for an hour or so.

Then it just kept happening, like clockwork, like some sick joke.

After about the sixth time, he was fed up. He'd thrown his headphones down, scowling angrily as his eyes flickered to the time in the corner of his computer screen — 1:23am. It was bad enough that he was working all night on his stupid assignment, and now his neighbour was screwing some asshole so loudly that he may as well have had no headphones on in the first place?

At least she sounded good.

Levi had deliberately ignored that thought for a while, until he heard her having sex with some guy a few months ago. He'd sighed, like a routine at that point, and remained seated on his couch, the remote in his hand ready to raise the volume of the football game on TV.

The noise was faint — if Levi had to predict based on the floor plans of their rooms, she'd probably be on her bed — but if he strained enough, he'd be able to hear her mewling, the even fainter sounds of slapping skin.

He sat there, silently, listening in like a priest taking confessions in church. His silence was judgement and equal measures of fascination. Having never really listened to her before, Levi never knew she sounded like that. Submissive, but seductive, dirty and slutty. Hm.

He had learned to respect her sex life — even creating his own for a while, too, giving her a taste of her own medicine. If anything, that only made things more lively in Room A. Somehow he blames himself for it having got to this point, presently, where he sits listening to her for the third time in a week — and it's not even Friday yet.

16:34 Levi: she's at it again 16:35 Erwin: AGAIN???? 16:37 Hange: isnt this like the fifth time this week? 16:37 Levi: third

Levi turns his chair to face the other wall, looking up at the blank plaster. There's another thud against it, and he blinks, his brows raised slightly. Is she fucking someone against the wall?

16:39 Furlan: theres no way its that bad 16:40 Furlan: send vid

After skimming over the texts, Levi's eyes flicker back to the wall. Then, he rises up from his chair and walks towards it, angling his body with his ear to the noise. Now that he's close, he can't hear a thing, and he scoffs — typical — and prepares to move away.

"Mphf — damn, bitch. You're more of a slut than I thought."

Levi stops.

Bringing his phone to his legs, Levi slumps his shoulder against the wall casually and almost cranes to listen. Without seeing anything, he feels like a fly on the wall. He hears someone with a deep voice grunting — he doesn't care about them — followed by occasional gasps, much softer, honeyed, elusive.

"You thought I was a slut?"

Levi hears her voice quivering, but there's little hurt in her tone. It's all lust, and he can hear the smile in her words.

For a second, Levi hears her body thud against the wall again and he flinches backwards. She must be directly on the other side — if the bricks weren't there, her body would be up against his own.

"Dunno what I thought," the male voice says, strained. "Wasn't-expecting-this. Shit, that's tight."

"Mm. You like it?" There's a beat of silence, and the faint sounds of breathy moans, high in an octave that sends goosebumps pricking over Levi's arms. "You like me?"

"Like your pussy. Shit, girl."

With every imagined thrust, Levi can hear her moaning, her voice raising as the pace fastens. Levi stands there, his eyes zoning out on the crack under his door and eventually, he pulls back. There's a slight ringing in his ears, and blood rushes to the tips.

16:51 Levi: phone can't pick up the volume 16:51 Levi: just trust me

It happened two more times before the weekend rolled by, and Levi thought that she must be on a conquest of bedding every guy on campus. Half of him thought it was to spite him specifically, although he wasn't even sure that she knew what she was doing was bothering him so much.

Friday evening had been a strange eve of silence, but he still felt on edge, as if waiting for the sounds to emerge. The weekend soon enough rolled by with no more sexscapades, and he felt almost a sag of relief in his shoulders.

Levi had just gotten out of the shower when he heard a knock on his door.

"Oh. It's you."

When he pulls it open, inwards on his own room, Levi props his weight against the door and stares out at Reiner, who is holding a light board under his armpit. Reiner holds it out to him with a nonchalant shrug and holds the door open with his foot as Levi takes the board with a raised brow and plonks it onto his bed.

Reiner stands in the doorway until he comes back, not quite daring to enter.

"I need one of those," Reiner offers in conversation.

"Well, you've got a job, buy one,” Levi replies, making Reiner smirk. "If you've broke it, then you can pay for it."

Reiner throws up his hands, "Hey, they don't call me the gentle giant for nothing."

Levi's face drops into a disapproving frown, "Nobody calls you that."

"You're right," Reiner sighs with a charming grin and then folds his arms.

Reiner and Levi know one another from one of their elective classes, and by some magical fate — or a wild coincidence — Reiner had been a mutual friend of one of his closest friends since first year. He also lives upstairs on the third floor, alongside some other guys and a girl that Levi didn't know very well, but had met once at a party and had kissed. He'd considered bringing her back to his room just to torment his neighbour but passed up the temptation.

Thinking of his neighbour, Levi's eyes quickly dash to her door, wondering if she might be inside and listening to them. Reiner doesn’t catch the look — or maybe he does, prompting him to his next sentence.

"You should come out tonight," Reiner suggests.

"Where?"

"A few of us are getting some drinks at Sonny's," he says. "Feel like I haven't seen you properly since that party, like, what, three months ago? You should get out more, have fun." Then, Reiner's smile widens and he, too, glances to his left to Room A, "Escape your sex fiend of a neighbour."

Levi might have cringed at the thought of her listening in, but to his surprise, he found a thrill rush through his body. Maybe she was listening right now, curled up to the door.

"I don't like Sonny's," Levi replies.

"Oh, you've been there before?"

"No. But I saw it on Eren's Instagram once, and it looked awful, sorry."

Laughing, Reiner shrugs his shoulders. "I don't care. It's just nice to get out. Really — what if we changed bars, would you come then?"

Just as he says that a soft thud can be heard from behind him, beyond the walls of the thin hallway that houses Levi’s room and his neighbours'. Levi almost cranes to catch the sound, half expecting his party animal hall-mates from Room D to come bounding inside, dressed in flamboyant attire to listen to loud music whilst getting ready to hit the town for the Friday deals that bars boasted of to rowdy students.

Instead, the door just to the right of Reiner swings open and a young woman steps inside. Levi blinks — depending on which direction she goes in, Levi's life could get a little bit more interesting.

Levi knows that he’s seen her before in the common room, chatting to other friends around a pool table, or shaking a vending machine with a stranger to try and free an overpriced bottle of Dr Pepper from the machine's claws.

Levi blinks once again, and Reiner turns at the sound of the door creaking open, and the breath almost leaves Levi's body in one giant exhale when she steps in their direction, towards Room A.

Ah. So this is Y/N.

Reiner's eyes move up and down with intrigue as she — you — step closer towards them. Judging by your almost surprised gaze, and the flit of your eyes as you look between them and the door to Room A, even Reiner knows that you are the aforementioned sex fiend, the famous neighbour who screws guys all the time and makes Levi all hot and bothered.

Nothing is said — there is nothing to be said. For a split second, you pause, judging the space past Reiner to your door, to your sanctuary, meanwhile, the two men size you up, intrigued by your very existence. Levi feels his conversation skills run dry — what could he say now that you were here?

He has to confess, against his previous wishes, that you were pretty. Beautiful, even. He tries to downplay it by thinking about you pushed up against the wall with a cunt full of someone else's cock, but if anything the thought only makes things worse.

As you push through the awkward silence of the hallway, Reiner slightly inches closer to Levi, as if to give you space as you stride by. To their surprise, you do so with a lifted gaze, having the nerve to look shy, guilty, friendly.

Everything would be easier if you weren't his type, weren't Reiner's type. Levi thinks about that for a second as his friend devours the sight of you, and Levi feels his stomach dip. He's never even spoken to you before, but he feels like Reiner has just crossed a boundary somehow.

The fact of you being as pretty as you sound, as desirable as Levi imagined you had to be to bring so many people back to your den (either irresistible or slutty, but sometimes those went hand in hand and he knew it) just makes the dull ache in his abdomen worse, his heartbeat fluttering ever so out of pace.

As you pass, you peer over at the two men, gazing at Levi in particular. You even look around him, eyeing his room. Then, when you look back at Levi, it’s as if something clicks — it was as if you registered that this man had been enduring your fucks and flirts for weeks and weeks on end, and had been courteous with not complaining once.

You look at him, over him, sizing him up greedily. Levi moves from foot to foot in a way that looks impatient, although he isn’t sure he's fully convinced you of his indifference when you smile charmingly, your cheekbones full and round.

"Hello," you say — Levi almost buckles. He's only ever heard your voice through walls and doors, never face to face. He blinks dumbly, says nothing.

"Hey," is what Reiner offers with a wide grin, his gaze flickering to your body and then back to your face. But you don’t look back, only look over Reiner's shoulder to Levi, and then turn to your door and thrust the key into the hole.

Your door untwists, unlocks, and in you go. After it closes and clicks with the lock, Levi hears you shuffling in your room, and then he finally looks back at Reiner.

For once, Reiner says nothing. He raises his eyebrows and pulls a face, one that Levi rolls his eyes at, and then Reiner claps his hands together and announces his silent leave.

Levi watches as if frozen in place as Reiner leaves the hallway, and when his own door closes with a slight tick, he strains to hear you beyond the wall, but can hear nothing.

A whole day has passed since then, but Levi can’t stop thinking about it.

He hasn’t left his room all day, to the stressed displeasure of his friends. The hallway has been frozen in a quiet stillness, with nobody coming and going at any point. Levi hasn’t heard you stirring since you walked past him and Reiner the day before, but he supposes he’s just thankful that he has no fears of being bombarded with sex for hours on end, or minutes at a time depending on which loser you lure home.

Levi drops his plate into the sink, sighing with both hands flat on the side of the counter. To the left, he casts a dirty glance out the window, looking at the grey landscape beyond the glass. The car park to the hotel that is tucked neatly behind his building is virtually empty, and the giant lake-sized puddles ripple with rain. He felt like it always rained here.

Listening to the rain, Levi finishes his ritual of cleaning the dishes and then turns off the tap with another sigh. It has just been too quiet today — unnervingly quiet, in a way that makes Levi feel more on edge than at ease. He's been craving this taste of silence for so long, but now that it’s here, everything just feels off.

He pinches the bridge of his nose with an irritated exhale and moves through the thin archway to get to his bedroom, near the front door, when he hears something beyond the threshold of Room A next door. Levi stops in place.

The noise is so faint that he almost misses it. He leans his head closer in the direction of the wall, waiting for the next sound to give when he hears it again — a breathy whimper. The whimper transforms into a moan, one that Levi can hear as clearly as he would if he were in the room. There are no other voices, and Levi pulls away from the wall quickly like it's on fire.

No. It can’t be.

Levi finds it both annoying and amusing when he hears you entangled with some random guy every other day, but just the possibility of it being you, and you alone, in your room with nobody but your fingers, makes Levi’s throat tighten.

Before, it felt as though your sex life was a performance intended for Levi to listen to, but now that it’s just you, the moment feels private and intimate, and Levi doesn’t know what to do.

The moaning continues, staggered, stuttered, falling and rising in a tempo he knows only the hand of the moaner can create. By now, he’s somewhat of an expert on your noises, how you respond to whatever your partner is doing — the unfamiliarity of your pleasure tonight has thrown him off, and all Levi can do is apologise in his head and pull himself back against the wall.

He’s come this far listening to you play with others. It would just be unfair not to hear how you really like it when you’re alone.

Levi can’t be sure what it is you’re actually doing; he’ll have to leave it to his imagination to conjure up the perfect image of you on your bed, legs spread, fingers stuffed up your cunt. He closes his eyes as he leans his head against the plaster, quite literally straining to hear every gasp leaving your mouth.

The world seems to slow around him, the sounds of your one-man show all he can hear. All of a sudden, he’s thankful for the unnatural silence of the hallway outside so he can hear it all.

What he pictures is lewd and perfect; you’re biting your lip probably, trying to contain yourself as you plunge your fingers deeper inside your pussy, curling them in a way nobody else can. The lights are dimmed, but in his mind, the picture of your body is crystal clear; the shape of your body is outlined by light, shadows cast attractively around the perk of your breasts, the glisten of crystalline sweat on your skin.

With your chest rising, Levi watches in his mind as your thighs quiver, your knuckles pushing against your opening — if it was possible to get more of your finger in there, you’d do it.

Your fingers slide in and out covered in wetness, each plunge inside accompanied by another moan that makes him shudder. Levi’s ear is flat against the wall, his cock hardening uncomfortably beneath his joggers.

All of a sudden, the shame of eavesdropping washes over him and he pulls away, breathing heavily as he moves from the wall to the bathroom. For good measure, he slams the door behind him, immediately turning on the tap and washing his face. What was he thinking?

Thankfully, there’s nobody to greet his ashamed walk back into his bedroom. He rubs the side of his face with a groan and glances back at the wall. For a moment, he pauses, but he hears no more sound.

Levi’s been in a sour mood since the weekend, and nobody around him knows how to solve it.

At first, it had started with the dream he’d had; the dream where he’d shoved your head into a pillow and fucked your brains out, which woke him with a start and another guilty walk to the bathroom. Then, he’d turned up late to his class and simultaneously discovered that Reiner had, in fact, broken the light board he loaned him the other week.

After that, he received a bitchy email from the receptionist at his building about upcoming fire alarm inspections, and because he’d been too busy looking at his phone, Levi had slammed into a group of first-year girls in the library and caused one of them to drop all of her books and her coffee on the floor. Now, his wallet was five pounds lighter and his expression was sour, and no matter how hard his friends tried to coax him out of his foulness, it was no use.

“At least you bought her another coffee,” says Eren with a shrug as he watches the flustered first-year disappear out of the student café with her friend.

“Not the point, dipshit.”

“It’s probably ‘cause of the lack of sleep this man gets thanks to his harlot neighbour,” Hange suggests, their shoulders hunched as they finish up one of their handouts for their evening class.

At that, Reiner looks up from his phone and adds, “Hot harlot neighbour.”

“Is she actually?” asks Erwin. “I don’t know if I can trust your judgement in women, Reiner.”

“She is beautiful,” Levi mutters reluctantly, his face still drawn together with irritance. Admitting that fact only makes him feel worse, especially when the memory of his dream creeps back into his mind. He sighs and rubs his neck. “But she hasn’t really made any noise in a while.”

“Maybe she’s on her period,” says Eren unhelpfully.

“Whores are on the pill,” Porco adds, suddenly reminding Levi of his presence. The blond-haired guy sits to the right with a coffee in one hand and a bagel in the other.

“Don’t you think it’s kind of sexist to call her a whore when I know most of you probably have higher body counts?” replies Isabel. She’s crept up on the knit of friends, but contrary to normal, her being here doesn’t make Levi feel any better. Right now, there are simply too many witnesses to his misery.

Eren shrugs. “Fine. Then she’s a slut.”

“As if that’s any better,” Isabel says dumbly. “You guys are pigs.”

“But she is beautiful,” Reiner says again. “I’m telling you — it’s a miracle Levi hasn’t made his move yet. If I lived next door to someone who looked like that…” He trails off. Levi cringes. How did he end up being friends with the worst people in the world?

Reiner sells Levi as actually having enough confidence to get up and knock on her door, when the truth of the matter is that Levi is too afraid to even approach the wall when he hears a noise anymore. In the time between him listening to you finger-fucking yourself and him having such an out-of-pocket dream about you, Levi hasn’t even wanted to listen to anything he hears outside of his room, too afraid of what he might do or think if he hears you again.

Besides, what would he even do? It’s been almost eight months of sharing a wall, and he’s come no closer to knowing you or anything about you. You’re as familiar to him as any stranger in this café, but the only difference is that he’s heard the way you whimper when your cunt is stuffed with cock and you’re up against the wall, which most people would have trouble competing with.

When you know how someone sounds when they’re most likely cumming on someone else’s dick, it’s an unbeatable bond.

Levi looks up at Reiner as if to say something, but then his eyes are drawn to the doors to the café. They widen suddenly, and after watching his expression shift, Reiner follows his gaze and looks over his shoulder.

After a few seconds, he whips his head back to the group and hisses, “That’s her!”

The speed at which their heads turn is almost funny to Levi, and he might have laughed had he not been so full of mortified fear at the sight of you.

You look pretty today — really pretty. Pretty in a way that Levi can’t even begin to make sense of considering the only way he’s seen you so far is in glimpses, in the corridor dressed in comfy clothes, or stark naked with his dick up your snatch in his head. His whole body fills with a sticky heat as he narrows his gaze on you, hoping that by staring you might disappear like a mirage and spare him the embarrassment due to come.

But nothing ever goes the way Levi wants it to. He breathes in heavily when your gaze pans across the room as if you’re searching for someone, stopping with a comical wide-eyed look of surprise when you see a group of six or so people all watching you with strange intensity.

Levi is not at all prepared for the way your brows knit together in confusion as you assess the strangers, only to raise in acknowledgement when you finally look at him for a moment too long.

Words are not needed to convey the silent series of events that spiral after that look. Levi knows instantly what you’re thinking and what it means. He knows that you know he’s told everybody about you — and he knows that you know he knows who you are and how often you do what you do.

There’s no way of explaining how confident he is that you’ve cracked the code in your head — he doesn’t know anything at all, only that when your face brightens into a smile he knows he’s screwed.

So fucking screwed.

“Oh shit, you were right,” Porco says after a while of mutual silence, and Levi is strangely grateful for the distraction of his voice as he turns back to his friend. “She’s hot!”

“And you’re being fucking loud, shut up,” Levi grumbles, his face scrunched into such a tight frown that it hurts to hold it. “Yes, that’s her. So what.”

“She’s looking at you,” Hange says rather unhelpfully. They’re sitting with their elbows on their spread legs, head low as they glance at you over the top of their glasses. Their brows are so high they might as well become a part of their hairline as they say a few seconds later, “Still looking.” A beat, and then, “Still looking.”

Levi huffs quietly, trying to find something interesting on the low table in the middle of the group to latch onto. All he can find are some of Hange’s papers and Porco’s bagel wrapper — neither are particularly inspiring to stare at, but he stares anyway, acutely aware of the heavy weight of your gaze on the side of his face as you approach the coffee counter.

“Maybe it’s because you’re all fucking gawking at her,” Levi replies stiffly.

To their credit, the group does their best to mask their very obvious staring, but Levi already knows that their hanging mouths have caused irreparable damage. He makes it a point not to look back over at you, and based on how his friends try to busy themselves with random things, he guesses you’ve reluctantly looked away from them and are currently buying something.

After today, Levi will never come here again — he’s just suddenly remembered that you’re real, and the notion of seeing you out in public just became his next biggest worry.

“Maybe you should go and say hi,” Isabel suggests, her mouth full around a bite of brownie.

Levi looks at her with an incredulous look. “And why would I do that?”

“She’s your neighbour,” Isabel replies slowly. “It’s polite. And friendly.”

“I’ll go and say hi, if you want,” offers Reiner. When Levi throws him a dirty look, he says, “What? She smiled at me before. I might be her next conquest.”

“Not much of a challenge for her,” Levi mutters. Besides, you weren’t even looking at Reiner back then — but as soon as the thought comes to his head he immediately exiles it. He’s not going to stoop as low as to fight Reiner on it; it will only deepen the hole he’s dug himself now that he's opened his mouth and told people about you.

After around four minutes, Levi has exhausted all possible resorts of interest around the table and anxiously rubs the back of his neck. Reiner still has his head looking up towards the coffee counter, but the others have mercifully ceased their curious staring. He levels his breathing and takes a quick swig of his tea, all before absentmindedly turning his head to look over his shoulder.

Your back is facing everyone, your head thrown back in laughter at something someone next to you is saying. Levi represses the urge to bristle at his own thoughts of what you might be laughing at, what possibly makes you laugh and smile — what coffee did you order, or maybe you are a tea person? Hot chocolate? Levi’s face falls into a narrow look of horror — Jesus Christ, he’s in so deep and over what? The sound of you?

Levi decides that he’s possibly gone insane after a long four years in academia and rests his cheek on his shoulder for a minute, gaze low. His friends are right, to a fault; he could just talk to you, scratch the itch until it’s gone and he can relax and live like a normal human being again. But that would involve taking initiative and actually confronting you, which in the grand scheme of things seems like a terrible idea.

He’d rather just forget about the delusional display of heated fantasies he’s conjured up after getting just a peek at you.

“Oh, shit. She’s looking again.”

It’s embarrassing how quickly Levi looks back at you without even thinking about it.

Sure enough, you’re looking back at the group, a cup of something steaming in your hand as your friend leads the way through a cluster of tables towards the double doors leading out onto the wide front courtyard. The screaming voice in his head is commanding Levi to look away, but he just can’t.

He watches you as you look back at him, mapping out every detail he possibly can while he has the chance to just look without any consequence, and feels his breathing constrict when you smile, so softly that it knocks the literal wind from his lungs, and raise your free hand in a wave.

And he doesn’t even move.

Somewhere behind him, Levi hears Reiner snigger and the brawny guy lifts his own hand to wave back at you, a grin plastered on his face. Your eyes barely move to look at Reiner in acknowledgement before locking back onto Levi with an almost hopeful look, and now would be a great time for Levi to move or do something in response, but he doesn’t. And he doesn’t know how to respond when your smile deepens into a smirk, almost like that was exactly what you wanted him to do.

“Why does she look down bad?” Eren asks quietly, making Porco cackle with a laugh that makes you look away and slink after your friend. Levi affords himself the time to watch you go, watching the way your ass moves in your jeans, the way your breasts bounce in that shirt, the way your waist looks and the way your hair moves and the way your smile widens—

“You’re a lucky son of a bitch,” Porco says, shaking his head with an amused look on his face. “If I lived next to someone who looked like that, and looked at me like that—”

“Well, you don’t, so fuck off,” Levi snaps. Wrong answer: the boys in his group laugh even louder, and Levi wants to shrink to the size of an ant and drown in his tea.

God. Levi realises with a gigantic sigh that today has been a long ass day.

Levi rubs his hair with the towel and glares at his reflection in the mirror. He stares, long and hard, and frowns at what looks back. For a guy who is to be considered “grown”, he cannot believe how stupid he's being, how stupid his brain is.

He has never once had a crush on somebody he’s never even met before, and only actually seen properly about two times. In the long four years of being in this city, Levi has never entertained an interest in anybody, mostly because he felt he didn’t have the patience for a relationship nor the time, which is why the way he’s feeling now is all the more bothersome — and even worse when the person he’s having trouble understanding his feelings for is someone he’s barely met, never talked to, and knows likes cock more than the air they breathe.

It is simply outrageous that he likes you so much. And he’s not even sure if what he feels would qualify as liking you.

Levi has never spoken one word to you and has never made any effort to do so, but alongside the audible archive of moans he has of yours in his memory and the mapped-out beauty of your face, Levi can distinguish that the pooling pit of desire in his tummy is closer to a crush than it is just general appreciation. And this feeling sucks.

Suddenly, Levi thinks back to seeing you in the student café and physically cringes at his reflection. All that for what? A smile? He is pathetic — Levi cannot believe that he has become such a strange man, and it is entirely your fault for being so pretty. And sounding so fucking sexy.

Levi hangs his towel on the small heated towel rack and washes his hands, hoping that in a metaphorical sense, it will wash away all of the terrible thoughts he’s having. Then, he shakes them dry and flicks off the bathroom switch, striding back into his room with a sinking feeling of emptiness.

He makes his way to the kitchen and looks longingly at the kettle. A cup of tea would do wonders for the creeping headache forming in his skull, but like the idiot he’s suddenly turned out to be, Levi instead leans up on his toes to grab a bottle of whiskey from on top of the fridge and finds an accompanying glass to pour himself a drink.

It’s been a long day, and he needs something strong. Quite frankly, Levi thinks he also deserves it.

For most of the evening, Levi entertains himself with his whiskey bottle, a glass and whatever the hell his TV can pick up in the black spot he calls home. He’s not sure how many glasses he’s had by the time he hears the corridor door swing open with its alarmingly loud squeal, but judging by how the room seems to tilt on its axis, Levi would wager a guess as to believe he’s had at least more than six glasses.

He feels his heart in his ears, pounding like a war drum, and he immediately reaches for the remote and turns down the volume. Like a cat, he feels his ears prick at the slightest sounds, and quite quickly, it’s as though stones are weighing down his stomach when he hears a boyish kind of snigger in the hallway, followed by the sound of keys in Room A’s door.

Please no. Not right now.

Not when Levi’s trying to come to terms with the unnatural feelings he’s somehow garnered for you.

Levi hears you shush the guy of the night and push open your door, its hinges moaning with relief when both of you stumble inside and it closes with a click. It’s almost embarrassing how quiet Levi has gone in an effort to eavesdrop — as much as he dislikes the idea of you being fucked by some random guy, he has to admit that he’s come to find some enjoyment in the vision of you being destroyed, in the music made by your pleasure. It took a while to admit it, but now that he has, it’s like a weight being lifted.

Once again, he is left to wonder what you’re doing when he can no longer hear your moans or the guy’s stupid voice muttering: Levi’s imagined you stumbling through the narrow passage past the bathroom and towards your bed, arms snug around the guy’s chest. You’ve probably sat down, and the guy is between your legs holding your face with his hands.

Only you haven’t. Levi hears a familiar thump against the wall and his eyes widen excitedly.

“Get this shit off.” Levi hears the guy grunt unhappily, and, hey wait, when did Levi suddenly end up listening so close to the wall?

“You don’t like it?” you ask, your voice so quiet through the thin layer of brick separating you from Levi’s ear.

“Like it better when it's not on,” the guy groans, and a few more thumps against the wall sound along with a strange dragging noise that Levi presumes might be your back. “God, you’re so hot.”

Well, that they can both agree on.

Levi closes his eyes as your voice begins to rise, foolishly high and breathy and in a way that makes Levi’s dick harden under his clothes. He pictures your face in his head, thrown back in a twist of pleasure, and fights the urge to grip his cock with his hand — he loses the battle and curses as he grabs his dick and begins to pump his wrist.

Levi leans his back against the wall and dips his head low to his chest, his eyes unwillingly fixed on the sight of his own cock hardening in his hand. Levi acknowledges that jerking off to his neighbour having a shag is a bit weird, but it could be worse, and as long as you can’t see him, he doesn’t care.

He tightens his grip around his dick and drags his hand up and down, biting down on his lip to keep his satisfied groans from eliciting any unwanted attention.

On the other side of the wall, you feel the brick behind your head as the stranger lifts one of your legs up over his shoulder, falling to his knees like a beggar and lifting the bottom half of your skirt up over your hips. At some point during your ungracious entry into the bedroom, the man managed to slip down your panties and now has full, unrestricted access to your cunt, and wastes no time pushing his head between your thighs.

Feeling the man’s tongue running flat up your slit, you moan breathlessly and stare up at the ceiling. You’ve fucked so many men it’s impossible to remember all of them, but you never get bored of the feeling of someone’s tongue up your pussy. Your heart stammers in your chest as you peer down at the stranger; his face is pushed between your legs and hidden from view, leaving you with nothing but dark locks of hair to gaze at, hunched shoulders and a pale hand pressing into your leg.

Admittedly, the only reasons you picked this stranger to approach in the bar had been because of the way he looked, and you close your eyes and let your jaw hang open in pleasure, all while your thoughts linger on who you pretend is between your legs instead of him.

“You taste amazing,” the guy groans into you, and you smile pleasantly. Everybody likes being complimented, don’t they?

“Yeah?” you ask, smoothing one of your hands up around your tit, “It’s all yours.”

The guy groans, as does Levi, who’s listening so loyally that he might as well smash a hole in the wall and look through. Nothing is left to imagination anymore; it’s as if you’re narrating your night just for Levi’s sake.

“Yeah. You’re right. This pussy’s mine,” the guy laughs, nipping his teeth against your inner thigh and making you squeal unexpectedly.

“Come on,” you rasp, worming your fingers through his twirly locks of hair with a slight grip. He winces and looks up at you from over your stomach, eyes dark and wide with the pain of your fingers tightening around his curls. “Fuck me, big guy. I want your cock.”

Levi’s wrist quickens. He blames the whiskey for the strangled little pathetic sound that burns in his throat, but there’s no way you heard it. Although these walls are so thin that he can hear every sound you make, there’s no way you can hear any of his noises. The logic defies Levi at that moment.

“God damn, you really are a needy girl, aren't you?”

No, you’re not, Levi thinks. Only you are — you grin down at the handsome man removing himself from between your legs and shuffle closer to grab a taste of yourself from his lips. He groans into your mouth, one hand on your ass and the other around the back of your neck.

With his arms around you, the man guides you towards the end of your bed and ungracefully drops you down, groaning when you bite your bottom lip and stare up at him with an expectant look in your eyes. Levi could only dream of what makes the stranger growl like that as he strains to listen in. You open your legs to invite him in, watching as he pulls a condom from his back pocket and takes his jeans down to his ankles.

Levi’s cock is throbbing, the tip an angry shade of red as he swipes his thumb and smears a slip of pre-cum across the curved edge. Levi inhales deeply, feeling his whole body stiffen as he pulls his fist up and down, the fingers on his other hand grazing across his balls with a sensitive flush. He hears you moan outrageously loud and his wrist trembles — he must have slipped it in.

You tighten your legs around the stranger, pulling him and his dick further into your cunt, the wetness of it slippery and inviting and divinely powerful. Every man you’ve had up there has made a comment on how good it feels, and as the guy moans loudly and tells you it’s the best pussy he’s had, you think of your neighbour; his surprised expression when he saw you in the café, the way his friends threw him looks when you smiled.

You know he’s been listening (if he hasn’t, then he’s admirably unbothered or deaf), and the thought excites you wildly.

You look beyond the man and to the wall, imagining your neighbour staring at the brick with a blank expression. Maybe he’s angry that you have another man over. You hope he is.

Biting back a laugh, you moan for good measure and match every thrust with a sound. The guy stuffed inside of you mutters a string of curses, chest puffed with pride, oblivious to the vision you have in your head of your neighbour snug between your thighs, his face steeled into his usual displeasure.

“Mmf, yes,” you whine, a little louder than you usually would. “Right there.”

“Say my name,” the guy growls, slapping your thigh rather sharply, “like a good girl.”

You flush, knees practically bent over to your chest as he folds you in half. For a second, you can’t even think of his name, don’t know if he ever even told you. Instead of wounding his pride, you drop a few girly moans and hope it distracts him, which it does. You wonder what would happen if you were to moan out your neighbours name — if you even knew it, that is.

“Oh, god,” you moan genuinely and close your eyes as the man sinks his cock in further. Thank goodness this man’s dick is long, you think, feeling the tip brush against a weak spot inside of you. The mattress beneath your spine is shaking uncontrollably, and the man peers down at you with a glint in his eye.

Levi’s head leans back and a breathless groan escapes — fuck, he thinks, but there’s no time to take it back, and certainly no chance he’s been heard.

Unbeknownst to Levi, your ears prick up curiously. The man snug inside of you looks at your face with an equal amount of curiosity, his hands wide against your skin as he fucks you at an unmeasurably quick pace. It’s as if he has somewhere else to be than here, but the pressing wrinkle in his forehead deepens as he fucks you harder, nails digging into your skin, spit flying from his mouth to your breasts.

“My friend said your pussy was good, but I didn’t think it would be this good,” the guy says, his voice raspy. All you can currently focus on is the squelch between your legs, and for a hopeful sound of annoyance from your neighbour.

When nothing comes, you opt for staring up at the guy with wide eyes, as if the thought of being passed around a few friends shocks you. In actual fact, you could care less, just as long as you both feel good.

His next few thrusts knock the wind out of you, and Levi clings to those pitched sounds like they’re his new lifeline. Pumping the length of his cock with his hand, Levi clamps his eyes closed and tries not to become self-aware of what the fuck he’s doing, instead focusing all of his energy on the twisting ache in his stomach and the dull groan of his wrist bones.

What Levi does next horrifies him. His hips jerk suddenly, his breathing laboured as he imagines himself in your room between your legs. Just the thought of looming over you, chest bowed over yours, your legs over his shoulders as he sinks himself into your cunt. The look of pleasured joy on your face, that stupidly beautiful smile lifted so high.

In the swirling darkness of his closed eyes, Levi conjures up images of you flustered and naked, covered in sweat and cum and as your breasts bounce the shine on your body curves — fucking hell, he’s in so deep, he’s so fucked.

“Oh! Oh, there, yep, there — hmpf!”

Levi hears you so loudly that it’s as if you’re panting it in his ears. He fists his dick almost furiously, feeling the creeping heat move across his body like a wildfire. The phantom illusion of your body underneath him pulses, the feeling of your cunt wet and squishing around him feels so real he might believe it if he weren’t uncomfortably self-aware of how screwed up he is, fantasising about a girl he’s never even talked to before.

Even through the wall, Levi can hear your bed rattling against the opposite wall, each slap of skin as the stranger fucks himself into you; Levi zeros in on the sounds and produces the perfect scene in his head, one that makes his dick twitch in his hand and his feet slip slightly across the wooden floor.

His chest rises and falls heavily, his hands trembling, his balls so sensitive he’s resorted to clinging to the wall like a rock climber with one hand while he pumps his cock with the other. Listening to you being fucked stupid is going to make him cum all over himself, and for a split second, that seems fine. That would be okay.

“Goddamn. You’re tighter than I expected,” the guy says, which sends Levi over the edge.

He groans softly at the floor and feels his whole body trembling as the coil in his stomach suddenly releases, and a string of cum shoots from the end of his cock. Levi keeps pumping, cum falling down his hand and to the floor in a grossly filthy manner, one that he’s trying his best not to stress over as he focuses all of his energy and thoughts on the hand wrapped around his cock and how badly he wishes it was your pussy gripping him instead.

When he does open his eyes, Levi blinks away the blurry tunnel vision and tries to catch his breath, now uncomfortably aware of the sticky mess covering his hand and the floor around his feet. For a second, he feels complete bliss — until the ringing in his ears subsides and he hears you whining in that pretty fucking voice you have, and the shame washes over him like a bucket of cold water.

Levi forces himself up off the wall and stares back at it, almost as if it might transform into a window for you to gape at him, the dirty eavesdropper who just had an orgasm over a daydream and the sound of his neighbour fucking some random guy. He blinks in horror.

The guy screwing you groans like an animal — a dying animal, Levi thinks bitterly, until he realises that he’s the first person to have orgasmed in the strange threesome and he isn’t even in the room.

Although guilt is consuming him, Levi can’t commit to pulling away yet. He might as well see it through to the end now that he’s become a part of it all.

Your cunt clenches around the guy’s cock like a vice, coaxing whatever last reserves of self-restraint he has before he grunts out a loud, “Fuck!” and slams his hips into you one last time, filling the condom with cum.

You feel the warmth bulging inside of you — lucky for someone to have gotten off in this exchange. Your pussy throbs and you squirm unhappily, hoping he might keep going.

“More?” the guy asks, breathless and shocked. “For real?”

“Mm. More, I need more,” you tell him, your walls fluttering around him. “Please, please give me more—”

No, no, no, Levi thinks in a panic. Please no more! As if being subjected to listening to some guy cumming after being in your pussy was bad enough, Levi wants nothing more than for it all to be over so he doesn’t have to listen anymore. He knows he could easily put in earphones and tune you both out, but that’s not the point.

Still, he feels a sudden rush of bitter hatred when the guy slaps your skin and makes you whine, all before laughing and pulling out. Levi hears nothing for a moment until he hears a drawer pulling open and slamming shut, and he thinks in a hot flush that he’s about to have a terribly unhappy night listening to you getting screwed again.

You watch the stranger shake his cock for a moment once the old and used condom is off, and he quickly puts on a new one while he’s still hard and admirably shoves himself back inside. Your wet warmth welcomes him back encouragingly, and there’s no trouble keeping him hard once you’ve gripped him back inside. The man shifts himself inside of you and moves in and out, his eyes trained carefully on your face as if assessing your enjoyment.

He creeps a hand between your legs and thumbs the hood of your pussy, and your eyes flash open with surprise at the feeling of his thumb on your clit.

“My god, you’re fucking gorgeous,” he comments, and Levi curses.

This can’t go on! Levi feels his mind reeling and he refuses to take responsibility for what his body does next; he wipes his hand on his joggers and glares at the door. Taking a few strides towards it, Levi forgets the cum on the floor and grabs one of his jumpers, pulling it over his head as he grabs his five seconds of courage by the balls and swings his door open.

The sound of you being fucked is made even more pronounced in the hallway. Levi’s never admired his other hall-mates until now, because he knows they’re all either listening in the same horror as Levi used to or they’re out somewhere missing all of the drama. Still, Levi feels his heart thumping wildly in his chest as he raises his fist, and without thinking any of it through, he bangs his hand on your door three loud times.

The sounds cease.

Levi hears a flustered “fuck!” and a confused moan, each one from a different person, and now that he’s knocked, Levi knows if he does a runner, you’ll only know it was him when his door shuts in the now uncomfortable silence. Standing in the hallway, he knows he has to live out his embarrassment and see it through.

The stranger pulls out of you in a fluster, staring down at you with surprise. “Should we answer it?”

You crane to listen, half-hoping it was a knock on someone else’s door and not your own, but you reluctantly glance up at him in shock and pick yourself up off the bed.

“Um…” you start, flustered and scanning the floor for something to put on. You spot your dressing gown slung over the chair at your desk and reach for it, giving the guy a pointed look as he scrambles for his underwear. You hoped it wouldn’t have, but the vibe is killed rather cruelly by whoever is banging your door so loudly.

Tying the cord around your waist, you pass by the guy with a sheepish smile and smooth a hand across his chest. In a way, the stranger is surprisingly handsome, especially considering you only picked him out for the way his hair looked. He grins after a while and grabs his shirt, holding it in his hand as he leans to kiss your lips and slither past you.

“Lemme get it,” he suggests, already making his way to the door. You let him go without protest, simply standing to the side as he reaches the door, twists the handle and pulls it open. The map of muscles in his back tense when he sees Levi standing outside.

“Levi,” he says dumbly. Levi blinks in confusion. How does he know this guy, and more importantly, how does this guy know him? The stranger seems to pick up on his blatant confusion and shifts uncomfortably, “It’s Samuel. I live in Isabel’s flat.”

Levi visibly grimaces.

This city is just too small and he hates it so much. Why the fuck did the guy fucking you have to be someone in close connection to one of his closest friends, and why the fuck did it have to be the guy involved in the sex Levi has just jerked off to?

“We met?” Levi decides to ask.

“Not officially,” mutters Samuel.

Levi ignores him and glances back into the darkness, schooling his features into disinterest with all of his strength when he sees you standing in the shadows.

The revealing V of your dressing gown attracts his attention, his eyes trained on the curving line of your breasts pushed together by your folded arms. He looks up to your neck and face, shining with a thin sheen of sweat, and then finally acknowledges your face.

Your makeup is smudged in a way that makes Levi’s cock twitch again, but he refuses to feed in to the pleasure he so badly wants to seek at the sight of you, fucked-out and equally surprised to see him standing like a loser in your doorway. You take a single step forward in what looks like wonder.

“What…are you doing here?” Samuel asks hesitantly.

Levi remembers he’s there and glares at him. “I live next door.”

“Oh,” says Samuel.

“I don’t care that you’re fucking. Trust me, I don’t.” He’s lying. “But can you be quiet about it?”

His voice cuts deep, making Samuel flinch, but in Levi’s peripheral he sees your face twist into an amused smile, your feet shuffling across the wooden floor to arrive by Samuel’s side.

“She’s not that loud,” Samuel attempts to say, in a pathetically unenthusiastic voice. Even he must know to an extent that you’re actually extremely loud.

Levi’s brows raise. “It’s not her I’m bothered about.”

“Oh,” Samuel says again. He turns to look at you like a deer caught in the headlights, but when his face drops at the look of amusement on your face, something tells Levi that Samuel may have expected you to defend him the way he just tried to defend you.

Samuel’s eyes narrow and he snatches himself away from the door to find his shoes and phone. “Whatever man. She’s a slut anyway, you must be used to it by now.”

Levi hums, his eyes on you as you look back at him, unmoving, unbothered. Your eyes drop suddenly to his bottoms before pulling back up with your brows raised. After looking down with reluctance, Levi spots the cum he wiped on his joggers in a smudge across his thigh and he pauses.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He can’t think of any other words.

Samuel slips his shoes back on and levels a dirty look in your direction, but you just smile sympathetically and wish him goodnight. He mutters something rude under his breath and barges past Levi on his way out, and Levi makes a point of watching Samuel go whilst trying to pretend that neither of you has just spotted what is drying to a crusty stain on his joggers.

Levi continues to stare down the hallway even when the door has slammed shut and Samuel has disappeared, but the sound of your feet shuffling on the floor makes him look back. He must be a good actor, because your brows furrow for a moment when you lock eyes, as if you aren’t sure whether or not he’s angry.

Of course, Samuel had been right. You were a loud fuck, you were a bit of a slut, and Levi is very familiar with the guests coming and going from your bedroom. But none of that matters at all now he’s here, looking at you hidden underneath a dressing gown, your lips parted with hesitance.

Levi stares at you for a second, wondering what he could possibly say to you now that the chance is right there. He should have known he’d say something stupid — Levi copies your facial expression and clicks his tongue: “I know you can actually do better than that.”

His words take you by surprise, but he watches as your wide eyes soften and your smile twists — his stomach churns, thrilled, enamoured. If he was stupid, he’d push himself into your room and kiss you, but luckily, he’s exhausted his daily dose of stupidity and fallen back into his usual state of normalcy.

“Oh, really?” you ask sarcastically. This is the first time he’s heard you talking since your shy little hello a few days ago, and without a wall between you and some dude’s dick up your pussy.

Levi hums, weaker than before. “Him, of all people?”

“Well, I don’t pick them for their personality,” you tell him, and he blinks as he realises that you’re actually discussing the people you bring back to your room. Levi lets it sink in until it does, deep in his stomach, and he feels his neck burning.

Suddenly, Levi is uncomfortably aware of how aware you are; you know you’re loud, and you know Levi can hear every moan and cry and whimper, every thud against the wall, every gasp of breath, every boy. And something tells him that none of that is accidental.

“...Thank god for that,” he drawls finally, his gaze hardening on your own. This time, you hum, mockingly, and tilt your head while you look at him.

Levi doesn’t know how long he stands there for. All he knows is that the tension between you is so thick it’s almost choking him. He doesn’t even know if you can feel it too — the unimaginable jolt of sexual tension coiling around his body like a snake, his whole body vibrating excitedly.

It would be so easy to move forward towards you. Levi doesn’t even think you’d refuse him. The sultry look in your eyes is inviting, enticing, and he lets his gaze wander back to the slip of skin above your breasts before he snatches his gaze back.

“I’ll be more quiet, if that’s what you’d like,” you say after a while.

He doesn’t say anything at first. Just looks at you for a second, weighing his options. Then, his gaze softens and he grunts — no. Be as loud as you want.

You seem to understand, for the smile widens into a pleased grin. “Alright. Sorry, Levi.”

He prays that you didn’t just see his body flinch as you said his name. Levi grunts again and waves his hand dismissively, turning for his room before the excitement of everything makes him become stupid again. He’s done enough stupid things today, thank you!

“Night, Y/N,” he says through clenched teeth, and if he had looked back, he would have seen the smile widen to a degree he could have never even expected, the confirmation you needed being your name on his lips, a name he would have only heard had he been listening.

Levi refuses to give in to his dumb urges and leans his back against his door when it shuts closed, listening shamefully as you hesitate before closing your door behind him. Finally, he lets out an exhausted breath and closes his eyes again.

For fuck sake. He’s a moron.

A moron who wants to fuck his neighbour, and is pretty sure that you know it.

Would you let him?

Levi stops himself from groaning like a pathetic loser when he thinks of you again, this time opening your door and letting him in, slipping the gown down your arms so that your breasts fall out for him; his hands grabbing them, pushing you back on the bed you were just being fucked on; his dick slipping inside of you, your cunt clenched around him, lips on his hands, cum filling you up like a cake, pooling out of you—

Levi feels his cock twitch again. He sighs loudly.

He’s going to need another shower. Preferably a long cold one. Hopefully cold enough to send him into shock and kill him, just to spare him from the humiliating reality that Levi Ackerman has become an infatuated sad fuck with a raging hard crush on his stunningly sexy neighbour.

Levi groans again. Fuck.

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brianwashere · 10 months

Note

Hello, hope you're having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request the spiderverse characters (Miguel, Hobbie, Noir) meeting and reacting to male spider reader who abnormal tall (like 7 foot kinda abnormal) and morally grey for instance will kill if it means that it could be beneficial rather than having the villain go to jail???

(Also who would end up falling for reader?)

FIRST ATSV REQ LETS GO

I made Miguel so submissive and breedable real lmfaooo. Also ignore how many HCs are in Noir’s, I’ve actually never written for him before lol. Oh and since it’s not extremely clear, Hobie’s is platonic

**I do not own any characters or part of the franchise from marvel or sony**

Summary: go to req

Tw: cussing, death, discussion of murder, stuff like that

~Miguel~

Color Miguel intimidated bcc oh my god

You’re taller than him. With his same morals. He’s fucking reeling

When you stand next to him he’ll cross his arms and puff out his chest

You’ll notice and be like “What’re you doing…?” And he’ll act all ignorant like “hm? What? No I’m not doing anything…”

Once he gets over your sheer largeness he’ll become more comfortable and relaxed around you

He falls HARD and QUICK

Even doing missions with you becomes difficult for him, the first time he got choked up or distracted he immediately stopped doing any missions with you

It was like whiplash for you because you were doing all these high risk missions with Miguel regularly then he suddenly drops you with no explanation

You corner him one day and demand to know why he’s acting so weird

You literally corner him…

Standing over him and all angry

He’s feeling 5 different conflicting emotions all at once

He tried to web away from you and without thinking about it you grab him by his neck and shove him back against the wall

He whimpered. WHIMPERED.

You immediately know what’s up and laugh at him some then tell him you feel the same

And that’s how Miguel O’Hara got a shredded gigantic boyfriend

~Noir~

When he first glanced at you he couldn’t help but stare a bit.

I mean. DAMN. What’re they feeding you?

He couldn’t help but say something

“They make them big in your universe?”

The joke surprised you bcc a Spider-Man dressed in all black and a sick hat and coat just teased you.

You laugh some and respond.

“And they make ‘em cute in yours?”

He chokes some.

You smirk at him and introduce yourself

He collects himself quickly and introduces himself too

When you find out he’s from an older timeline

You can’t help but flirt a bit more

“Oh so I should take you to dinner first?” You say with a grin.

You came on so heavy he stayed silent for a bit, just blinking at you

He avoids you for a bit, not because he doesn’t like you or is weirded out. He’s just trying to learn how to respond to your flirting in a way that isn’t staring owlishly

You two are on a mission together and long story short the villain didn’t need to go back to his universe to restore the timeline and was beyond the standard villain evil

while he was fleeing from you two he flung a child into the air and let them drop, expecting them to distract the both of you

“Noir!” You yelled

“On it.” He immediately responded and caught the kid, taking them to safety and comforting them

When you caught the villain you couldn’t hold yourself back.

Needless to say Noir came back to find you covered in blood and dangerously quiet.

It was a sight to see and not one he’ll forget.

“If you’re gunna give me the whole ‘killing makes you as bad as them’ lecture you can save it. I don’t regret it now and I wont regret it ever.” You said firmly, still not meeting his gaze

He just walked over to you and rested a hand on your shoulder. “Good. You shouldn’t.” Was all he said. The return to the spider society was silent

There was a silent agreement between the two of you not to discuss that mission with anyone else. That it was something too personal, somehow.

A few weeks later he asks you out

“Do you want to go out for egg creams sometime?” He asked

“What the hell is an egg cream.”

It’s like the olive theory but with egg creams

He loves your size and secretly loves it when you rest your arm on his head/shoulder.

~Hobie~

He laughs when he sees you

“You been drinking your milk, mate?” He chuckled

You rolled your eyes at him.

You talk with him when you next see hi ma few days later

He just sort of appears around you and you don’t question it once so ever

Someone asks why you two are always seen together in a rude tone and Hobie just throws an arm around your shoulder and says “see this lad right here, he’s my best friend. We actually sleep in the same bed—“

You scoff at him and push his arm off

You know he’s being sarcastic and just trying to get the person to fuck off but calling you his best friend made something in your heart flutter

Protectiveness? Loyalty? Endearment? Who the hell knew.

All you know is from then on you started seeking him out more

You sort of became a older brother figure to him

You started checking in on him semi regularly

But one time he stopped responding and you hadn’t seen him for over a week

Obviously, you got worried

You decided to go visit his universe to see if something happened

When you got there your eyes were immediately violently assaulted with flashing images and constantly changing scenery

It threw you off mid-swing and you crashed to the ground

You had to shut your eyes so you wouldn’t get nauseous

Then you felt a hand on your shoulder and squint up to see Hobie who looked confused and concerned

He helps you back to his place and basically tosses you down on his beat up couch then asks why you’re there

You just grumble something about him not responding and not seeing anyone for over a week

He flops down next to you and lays his legs on your lap

“Aw you big bloke, you were worried ‘bout me.” He says smirking

You shove his legs off and stand up

“Don’t get used to it” you say with a grin

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cheeekycharchar · 9 months

Text

"Shame and guilt have followed humanity since Adam and Eve disobeyed God in the Garden of Eden."

Good Omens; a story of an Angel that can't accept love because of shame and a Demon that can't accept forgiveness because of guilt.

"It'd be funny if we both got it wrong, eh? If I did the good thing and you did the bad one."

An in-depth analysis of an Angel suffering from shame and a Demon wracked with guilt.

Let's dive deeper below the cut!

[Now I'm going to lay down a lot of facts, definitions and minimal psychological babble and I want you, as the reader, to view this through your GO nerd glasses. Also, I want to express that I am not a therapist or religious in any way- this was all done as academic research for the fandom's sake cause I can't shut my brain up. I tried to organize it the best I could. ..sorry it's so long but I swear it's worth the read through! ;)]

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• Shame is the painful emotion you have when you perceive that you are not good enough in some way. Entirely self imposed and only known to you, shame can be an unpleasant self-conscious feeling often associated with negative self-evaluation. When shame is chronic, it makes you believe that you are fundamentally flawed, defective, dishonorable, immoral, or improper.

• Guilt is a negative feeling of worry or unhappiness that you get because you have done something wrong. It's a moral emotion that occurs when a person believes or realizes- accurately or not- that they have compromised their own standards of conduct or have violated universal moral standards and bear significant responsibility for it. When guilt is chronic, it can be a toxic emotion that could cause a person to take on unjust responsibility if things around them go wrong. They are quick to accept that everything is their fault even though it isn't.

While guilt is about wrong actions, shame is about being wrong as a person.

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In academic psychology, shame is associated with avoiding failure and its consequences while guilt is connected with forgiving and improving one's self, along with making amends.

Guilt and Shame are often confused for each other but there’s a big difference between the two. Guilt can help you understand how your actions impact others, but shame is an inward-facing emotion that reflects how you feel about yourself. (And I do realize that Aziraphale may, at times, feel guilt and Crowley can also feel a sense of shame. But the main motivation behind majority of their characterizations and actions throughout the series are both coming from these two different feelings.)

Guilt can help you move forward while shame keeps you stuck in the past. [such as the "We could have been.. us." and "You go too fast for me." scenes] And the only way to rid themselves of these negative emotions is through recovery with unconditional love and forgiveness.

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• How Aziraphale represents the concept of shame •

Shame tricks you into believing that you aren't good. That you are worthless. Not that you've done something bad, but that you are bad. Ever since Aziraphale gave away his flaming sword, he started to question himself. But it wasn't until he outright lies to his fellow Angel's about the true fate of Job's children that he truly believes he has fallen- that he violated God's word and lied (again). He believes there must be something truly wrong with who he is as an Angel. He's a flawed creation of God and he feels a dreaded sense of deep shame from this.

Feelings of shame can also present itself in different types such as, Chronic Shame (negative emotions all the time that you aren't good enough), Performance Shame (feeling as though you are inferior compared to others) and Shame from Unrequited Love (this is a feeling of not being good enough for another person T^T).

Shame is a harmful, negative emotion that when internalized enough can result in an overly harsh evaluation of oneself.

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Next, let's take a closer look at what defines shame and how it operates through Aziraphale:

• Being Defensive is a way to avoid taking responsibility for our behavior.

"I don't need you." "And the feeling is mutual!"

• Perfectionism is the unrealistic desire to be perfect and is often a defense against shame. If we’re perfect, no one can criticize us; no one can shame us. We keep up a front that looks good to the world. We may spend a lot of time attending to our dress and looks.

"I do have standards."

• Apologizing constantly. Shame can prompt us to be overly apologetic and compliant.

"I did the 'I was wrong' dance in…"

• Procrastination can occur from a deep hidden shame. If we consider pursuing something and it doesn’t turn out well, we might be paralyzed by that feeling. If we never try, then we don’t have to face possible failure and subsequent shame.

"You go too fast for me, Crowley.."

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Next are the four category behaviors resulting from shame:

• The Hot Response These are things you do when you feel ashamed and defensive, such as lashing out in anger or attacking the other person to deflect attention from yourself.

"I don't even like you!" [always resorts to being defensive in any argument]

• Behaviors to Cope With or Conceal the Shame These behaviors include doing things to make yourself feel small, trying to avoid being the center of attention, or not sharing your thoughts or feelings. Concealing yourself is a method of self-protection.

[always awkward and can't speak openly around other Angels]

• Safety Behaviors to Avoid Shame or Being Discovered This category of shame behaviors might be things like apologizing, crying, or avoiding conflict. People who have a tendency toward being emotional or avoiding conflict may be more likely to engage in safety behaviors.

"Why? What's wrong? I mean.. if there is something wrong.."

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The Impact of Feeling Shame:

• Makes you feel like you are flawed or there is something wrong with you

"I'm like you now. A demon. I'm a fallen angel.." • Can lead to social withdrawal

[spends most of his time in the bookshop alone] • May cause you to become defensive and shame others in return "I'm an angel! And you're a demon!" • May cause you to inflate your ego to hide the belief that you don’t have value

"Well, I am a great deal holier than thou. That's the whole point." • May leave you feeling empty, lonely, or worn out

"But I thought you said it wasn't [lonely]?" • May lead to lowered self-esteem

"I'm.. soft." • May make it harder for you to trust other people

"Obviously, you're lying. You're a demon. That's what you do." • May lead to perfectionism or overachievement to try and counteract your feelings of shame

"If I can just reach the right people and resolve all of this-" "That's not going to happen! How could somebody as clever as you be so stupid!?" • May cause you to engage in people pleasing

"Doing good again, Angel? "Oh, hardly counts. Purely for selfish reasons." • May cause you to avoid talking because you are afraid to say the wrong thing

[trying to explain to Metatron in S1 without revealing too much] • May cause compulsive or excessive behaviors like overworking, excessive cleaning, or having too high of standards in general

[non stop research all day and night to look for the antichrist by himself]

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• How Crowley represents the concept of guilt •

Guilt is what you feel after committing a specified or perceived offence/crime/bad action. It's typically attached to a feeling you experience when you do something wrong on purpose or accidentally and can regret that action. Guilt can be morally ambiguous.

"Well, maybe there is something to be said for.. shades of grey?" "..Shades of dark grey."

Signs of guilt are unique but these are the most common (again there are many but these I thought related to Crowley the best):

• Low self-esteem

*sighs* "Don't bother..."

• Excessive attempts at reparation [Crowley always trying to secretly help humanity when he can]

• Being unable to meet someone’s gaze

[Covering his eyes not only hides his snake eyes but also his guilty feelings]

• Anxiety "We are fucked!" [and we all know TV!Crowley is 100% more anxiety ridden than Book!Crowley is lol]

• Trouble sleeping [Sleeps too long (100 year nap from book). Or can't get comfortable sleeping (from S1 deleted scene)]

• Depressed mood

"What's even the point.. everything seems.. pointless.."

• Avoidance of people, places, or events linked to the cause of guilt "I'm not going to be joining their team and neither should you!" [doesn't want to return to Heaven or Hell and is "on his own side" to avoid them further] • Shifts in energy levels [can be giddy/jumpy one second to morose/moody the next, etc]

• Emotional outbursts

"I'm just so angry!"

• Appetite changes

[took up drinking alcohol even though its unnatural to]

• Making amends [spends every moment since Eden trying to secretly do good despite the hellish consequences]

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Defense mechanisms against feeling guilty can become an overriding aspect of one's personality. (These are also related to trauma response.)

• Displacement is a defensive tool that may take the form of blaming the victim or taking your feelings out on others.

"You know what you've done. You've disappointed me."

• Projection is sharing the unacceptable feelings/qualities onto others, thereby being less alone with it.

"But that sounds.." "Lonely?"

• Self-harm may be used as an alternative to compensating from one's past transgression. Not just physical self-harm but not allowing yourself to enjoy opportunities or benefits as a result of uncompensated guilty feelings.

[always holding himself back for 6k years from saying what he truly feels and won't allow himself to be with Aziraphale the way he really wants]

• Repression is subconsciously blocking or forgetting harmful/traumatic memories. "Right.. looking at where the furniture isn't.." [doesn't remember his time in Heaven in detail- whether from trauma response or just had his memory wiped]

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Behavioral responses to guilt can be associated with the moral of their character. Feelings of guilt can prompt virtuous behavior.

"You shouldn't test them to destruction.."

People who feel guilty may be more likely to: • Exercise restraint [holds his true feelings back for Aziraphale for centuries]

• Avoid self-indulgence [only really has his car and plants in the end]

• Exhibit less prejudice [is more open and accepting of other's sins - such as helping during the Scottish bodysnatching scenes]

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Guilt can prompt reparatory behaviors (actions to make amends) to help alleviate these negative emotions. People tend to engage in these reparatory behaviors toward the persons they wronged. Some religions theorize that forgiveness of sin (even those committed by accident or ignorance) is exclusively through repentance.

Crowley, being the wily serpent that tempted Eve to eat the forbidden apple of knowledge and subsequently getting her and Adam kicked out of paradise on Earth- and thusly creating the first sin of humanity. Right away, Crowley feels guilt from this.

After all, he was just told to stir up some trouble and had no idea the consequences of his first temptation on the future generations of human existence. Ignorantly doing something considered wrong and getting exiled.. this mistake would forever haunt him. He knows the pain and trauma from unwittingly doing something insignificant and being punished severely for it (such as asking questions or eating an apple) yet he accidentally made the first of God's new creatures "fall" in their own way from Eden. It's because of this guilt that Crowley spends the next 6000 years secretly rebelling against Hell to help humanity in any way he can to redeem himself.

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That's why their first conversation (post Fall from Heaven) on the wall of Eden was SO important to their relationship with each other and themselves.

"Oh, I do hope I didn't do the wrong thing." "It'd be funny if we both got it wrong. If I did the good thing and you did the bad one." "No. No! It wouldn't be funny at all!"

I think the reason Crowley always seems to be one step ahead of Aziraphale (in more ways than one) is because, in a sense, guilt is easier to resolve from than shame.

If you acknowledge your mistake and the person chooses to take the steps to improve and change for the better, then they can recover from those negative feelings. They can work through the guilt by repairing the transgression or learning from it.

Whereas shame can only intensify inwardly and be harder to face because your mind is telling you that you are the bad thing, that you are the mistake. This makes it harder to overcome. And the only way to truly recover from shame is unconditional love and forgiveness- for yourself.

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“Instead of your shame, you shall have double honor, and instead of confusion, they shall rejoice in their portion. Therefore in their land, they shall possess double; everlasting joy shall be theirs.” (Isaiah 61:7)

And in S2.. we can see they both hold regret for their actions at the end of episode 6. If you look at every choice, ever misstep, every argument and their occasional confusion in understanding one another, you can see how Aziraphale was written with shame as a main part of his personality and Crowley written with guilt.

Two feelings that are often confused for one another but differ slightly in their own ways. The motivation behind every word they utter and every action they make throughout the series is built on the foundation of these two fundamentally negative and often traumatizing feelings.

There is a possibility to recover from shame and guilt and I have a feeling that S3's plot line will be all about recovery.

And that's what the concept of that Second Coming storyline might be all about. The New Testament says, "In Jesus Christ, God took upon Himself the sins of the world and died on the cross to pay mankind's debt" (Rom 6:23). "Those who repent and accept Christ's sacrifice for their sins, will be redeemed by God and thus not guilty before Him. They will be granted eternal life which will take effect after the Second Coming of Christ" (1 Thess 4:13–18).

A second chance. Forgiveness and Recovery from Sin.

And what is the story of Adam and Eve if not about humanity's Original Sin?

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Remember, after all is said and done, the antidote for shame is love, and guilt is cured through forgiveness.

Two things a certain Angel and Demon struggle with accepting from each other but are more than willing to give to one another.

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[…There! I made myself sad again, lol. Thank you for reading this far! Sorry it was crazy long but I really enjoyed putting this all together into semi-comprehensible words (though stupid tumblr made me delete a bunch of pictures I had as examples…). Also, on a final side note- if you are ever experiencing overwhelming shame or guilt in anyway (which can result in depression or worse if not dealt with) please make sure you reach out to someone or seek professional help in some way. Take care, everyone! ^-^]

#Good Omens #Good Omens meta #Good Omens theories #Good Omens speculations #ineffable husbands #ineffable idiots #Crowley #Aziraphale #sorry it's so long.. it was longer #and had more pictures #but stupid tumblr restricted me lol #give me season 3 or give me death #good omens analysis #Neil Gaiman #Terry Pratchett #david tennant #michael sheen #I THINK I CRACKED THE CODE lol

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pastelcheckereddreams · 8 months

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Still feeling insane about this shot. "Checking you out between the crossed blades of our swords" yes good but Li Xiangyi is literally seeing his own face in Di Feisheng's sword as it obscures half of DFS's face. If swords and swordplay are the truest expression of - god how do I even describe it - who you are, your core, your relationship to the world and how you act within it, your morals, your standards, your beliefs idk just EVERYTHING - And here is the only other person who can match you, your rival and your enemy and your equal - crossing blades with you, because you think he's betrayed you, killed your shixiong, torn up the peace treaty you created together - but in his blade you see yourself.

The show is telling us literally in the opening scene that these two people are a matched set, do not separate - even as the scene is tearing them apart.

#*screaming into my fist*#feihua #di feisheng #li lianhua #li xiangyi #mlc meta #mysterious lotus casebook meta #mysterious lotus casebook #mlc episode 1

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feverdreamsandlucidnightmares · 3 months

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I keep thinking about moral vs ethical authorities and actions in the Trigun animes. I hope this ramble about it makes sense.

I think most of us will agree that morality is perfectly capable of secular development and is unbeholden to religion in general, though religions can certainly serve as a moral authority and inform specifics. But they are not, or at least not the only, source of morals.

And while ethics and morals are often used as synonyms, they do actually have different meanings. The short version is that ethics are the rules and standards of a social system/culture/etc and morals determine what a person individually thinks is wrong or right. Often, people’s morals and ethics follow the same principles and authorities. They don’t have to, though.

Functionally, let’s say that ethical choices are social goods, and thus social authorities are the ethical authorities within a given society or culture. Much like laws and power structures are meant to protect and benefit the people they govern, a social or common good is something that benefits the largest number of people within a society. In Trigun, these authorities include the Bernardelli Insurance Society (in a limited capacity), the JuLai/July military police, the Eye of Michael, and (notably, but discretely) Millions Knives.

There’s plenty of speculation on and textual implication within Trigun Stampede that Knives and Conrad having their hands in a lot of JuLai’s governance and polices. This is where the moral value of the ethical systems in place becomes questionable.

There are a lot of implications to unpack within an ethical system potentially developed and controlled by a genocidal semi-immortal being using it as a shadow government. The abridged, most important point is that there is no reason for Knives to be a part of a system that allows humans to flourish, build community, and grow. There is every reason for him to convince/allow everyone to think that he is.

A social good is one with the support of those in authority. It has no innate moral value. Laws and orders from unjust governments do not absolve anyone of the weight of their actions. But they determine who is punished.

So, the Eye. The church of No Man’s Land. A social authority for people in Hopeland, at least to some extent. Enough so that the orphanage cannot stop the Eye from taking its children. And Windmill Village to a much larger extent. So much so that its people volunteer their children as sacrifices. And it’s implied to have a much wider reach than just that. The Eye of Michael is a cult that preys upon the planet’s most desperate. Rollo - sick and poor and unlucky. Blessed. Made new, made whole (everything down to his emotions tampered with). Monev the Gale. Wolfwood and Livio - orphans and poor. Wolfwood, the handpicked Child of Blessing. The perfect candidate to be a child soldier. Nicholas the Punisher. Livio, the volunteer. The good and faithful brother follower. Livio the Double Fang. The other Gung-Ho-Guns. Dominique the Cyclops, Midvalley the Hornfreak, Rai-Dei the Blade, E. G. Mine, Leonof the Puppet-Master, Hoppered the Gauntlet, Caine the Longshot — volunteers? Desperate people doing desperate things? Or violent people playing at divine intervention? Social authorities in their own right, in the sense that they can do what they want without repercussions from the masses. They answer to Legato, to Knives, not to the traditional governments of No Man’s Land.

And Legato has been desperate. He would kill almost anyone before suffering that again. He would die to escape it, too. Life holds so little meaning to him. The end is near and he is both hierophant and harbinger. He lays no claim to justice, only ruin, but it’s all in Knives’ name.

Knives, who plays god. Who puts a bounty on his brother’s head to drive him back to him. All that power, he gets to determine what is wrong or right and people can either agree or die. It’s easy to see where his morals fail, but there isn’t a higher power to enact justice. So, he has the authority, what goods does he perform with it?

It’s also important to note that Zazie does not perform moral or social goods. Zazie serves themself, for their own betterment. And this is not a moral failing because applying human morals to a multi-consciousness conglomerated hivemind controlled collective of bugs can’t make sense. Zazie is all of the wams on No Man’s Land. All of their collective experiences in the species’ existence. All of their lives, all of their loss. It’s all Zazie. And Zazie believes that the needs of the many (themself in all their facets) outweigh the needs of the interlocutor few (humanity, Plants). Tentatively willing to coexist and adapt, unwilling to accept their own destruction. Allies or enemies. They work with Knives until it no longer benefits them. Very utilitarian.

Nonetheless, the Eye of Michael and its chosen crusaders, its sychophants, its priests are a definitive social and tentative moral authority within No Man’s Land. So, who can tell Conrad that he is performing anything other than a social good by doing his experiments? He claims he’s trying to save humanity and the only authority over him wants humanity dead. A flawed system. The Gung-Ho-Guns perform social goods by killing whoever they are sent to exterminate. This, of course, includes Vash without regard to whoever might be caught in the crossfire. Vash, who unwittingly takes the blame for his brother over and over. Vash, who has a bounty placed on his head by his brother and his misguided puppet government. Vash, who is being mocked and chided, his bounty the same as the cost of a new Plant. Vash, the Humanoid Typhoon, legally an act of God, the first “human” natural disaster. Destruction in his wake.

Wolfwood performs a social good by betraying Vash. He has the authority to justify his actions through his ordainment.

And Wolfwood performs a moral good by saving Meryl. It’s the first unilaterally moral good he performs in Trigun Stampede. That’s important. The thing about Wolfwood is that he knows the difference between moral and social goods. He knows whatever values he’d like to act on don’t align with his orders, but there’s always other lives at stake. Wolfwood doesn’t kill because he’s particularly bloodthirsty. He’s pragmatic. Other people have to die to keep the orphanage safe. An unfortunate, but necessary cost that he’s willing to pay. Until he isn’t anymore. Monsters don’t need morals, but if Vash can afford them maybe he can, too.

And normal, everyday people perform social goods, too, by trying to stop bank robbers and bandits and the Nebraska Family. And Vash. Those are ethical decisions, stopping criminals threatening your home is ethical. You just have to remember who determines who the criminals are and why.

Your moral and ethical authorities, ideally, should be in alignment. This is not a utopia, so they aren’t. And these random people living on the planet he forced them onto are continuously subjected to the so-called social good of Knives enacting his divine plan in order to force Vash’s hand. They are a necessary sacrifice for his greater good. The greater good that is Knives’ Eden, that is a world remade in his image. Vash remade in his image.

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olderthannetfic · 7 months

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You know what? I'm really fucking tired.

I'm really fucking tired that, when it comes to producing medias, women are held at higher morality standards than men, and so are their female consumers.

I'm really fucking tired that we can't just enjoy shit without someone piping up with the MoRaL qUeStIoNs of what we're consuming and/or producing.

The Barbie movie comes out? It wasn't feminist nor intersectional enough. Its feminist message was 10 years out of date. Saying that Barbie is everything while Ken is just Ken mysandrist.

A dark romance book with a taboo couple is published? We didn't consider the implications of their relationship dynamic. We are supporting pedophilia/abuse/rape/whatever else.

Fanfiction as a whole? Supports bad morals. Moronic. Homophobic in its very nature, and mysandrist too because we have headcanons that emasculate men. Something to make fun of.

Why do men get to have their Walter White's, turn them into their personal superheroes and their "omg, he's just like me" but god forbid women say "What Amy Dunne did was wrong, but I get what brought her there"?

Why do men get to have their stupid, mindless fun, while we're here in the fucking trenches even for hobbies?

They get to have their Terrifier saga and their Barbarian* and their Mia Goth shooting a porn movie and then running from a serial killer without her top on**, but god forbid we don't overanalyze the structure and content of whatever dumb YA saga is currently trendy so that people know we enjoy it only ironically because we can't enjoy something dumb simply because it's dumb and entertaining.

Just let us enjoy our bullshit without constantly overpicking it. Not everything has to have morals, sometimes we can just enjoy stupid shit.

(This rant might've been inspired by a post I saw on Reddit of a girl who broke up with her boyfriend because she found out that he had a whole ass groupchat with his friends dedicated to sharing the link of her fanfics so they could make fun of her and would send her fucking hate comments too.)

*Barbarian was clearly inspired by the Josef Frizl case. You know, the one about the monster who trapped his own daughter in the basement and raped her for 27 years, forcing her to go through 7 births. In the movie, the result of these incestuous acts is a monster-like creature with superhuman strength and the brain of a peanut that has to be murdered so that the main character can go on with her life, because what's scarier than victims of rape?

**"Oh, but I enjoyed X!" Good, but that's not my point! I can assure you that, when the concept for the movie was pitched, in the section dedicated to "What audience does this product target?" the word "woman" was not mentioned once. It's a product made by men for men that women have taken a liking to.

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anamericangirl · 5 months

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In my experience, non-Christians tend to view God more like a wizard, than an actual deity. Like He's powerful and all that, but still exists on the same moral plane as ordinary people. He's a figure, that while more powerful than us, they could still stand up to and face. When in truth, they will tremble in fear when they stand before Him. No one can bear His presence and his Holiness. That anon may think they will hold Him accountable, but when they face Him, they will not be able to even stand before Him or speak.

So true. These anons are pretending that we are all somehow equal to God. That he is just a regular person subject to the same standards we are but he can do magic and that’s the only difference.

When in reality he is the creator and infinitely above us. He is the ultimate judge of the universe and while they have the audacity to think they can hold God accountable to anything, they forget that in reality they will be held accountable by God. It is their own souls they need to worry about. Trying to “hold God accountable” is only going to hurt them in the end because God is not impacted in any way by their naive and ignorant thoughts and opinions. Their willful ignorance and blatant disregard for the truth and rejection and mockery of God will damn them. They may think it’s fun and get a kick out of it now, but they won’t when they are standing before God.

Because one day they will stand before God as we all will and they will be held accountable. And they will not be mocking him anymore.

“For it is written, “As I live, says the Lord, every knee shall bow to me, and every tongue shall confess to God.” - Romans 14:11

#anon #answered

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xhopelesslyromanticx · 2 years

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Romeo asked Juliet three questions - Max Verstappen x Reader

Masterlist

Warnings: smut, mentions of alcohol

summary: Your dad had done everything to protect you. In return he would ask you for one thing; loyality. To his family, to his brand. But one night with his enemies golden boy Max makes you question your morals. One night and three questions.

Growing up your dad used to tell you stories about how he had met your mother. How her dad had always depsised him and how hard her whole family made it for the two of them. The odds were against them; he had told you it was sort of like Romeo and Juliet. You loved hearing about it, especially with your mom being gone. After she had passed your father rarely spoke about her and whenever he did, you made sure to listen closely. The stories of their life before you and before success fascinating you as you were unsure of when he was gonna talk about her next. He didn‘t like it, it hurt him too much.

Their love had seemed so sweet and everything you strived for to find for yourself and even though they didn’t always have it easy you knew it was meant to be. Like Romeo and Juliet. Your dad had taught you the importance of family from early on. He said there was nothing more important than family and even when he remarried and had another son, he never made you feel like a lesser part of his life. You adored your father for that very reason and had made a promise to yourself to never dissapoint him. That’s why you chose to be in motorsports and that‘s why you hadn’t let any guy near you that you felt like wouldn’t meet your fathers standards. His agreement the most important thing to you. Until someone came into your life that made you question your morals. Made you rethink everything you had been taught. But that’s too far for now. Let’s start from day one, the day you had bumped into a guy on the paddock.

The laugh escaping his lips was something you’d probably remember forever as you rubbed your forehead with the palm of your hand, trying not to blush. You were sure your cheeks were already rosy as you looked into his ocean blue eyes. They were mesmerizing and in combination with the blonde hair. God, you had always had a thing for blonde guys but like your dad had taught you, to be on the lookout for any red flags; your eyes immediately travelled to the logo on his chest. The most important thing; loyalty. The bulls on his shirt making you frown as you took a step back „Sorry.“

With that you were gone as Max watched you leave confused. He hadn’t even seen your whole face yet and had already found interest in your beautiful eyes. But you leaving so abruptly made him wonder, maybe you were in a rush or maybe you had a boyfriend? But he hadn’t even flirted with you yet. Max had shrugged it off, continuing his way down the busy pitlane. And in the upcoming weeks he‘d see you more often. He‘d come to learn who you worked for and it would all make sense to him. The way you‘d avoid his gaze or turn on your feet and go into a different direction as you saw him in the paddock. He was understanding but to a certain degree he felt like it was childish to act like this. Just because you worked for Mercedes, you didn‘t have to act like this.

Maybe it was that, that made you so incredibly interesting to him. The mystery of knowing almost zero to nothing about you. A mission is all he had craved, a plan was set in his bones that he‘d get to know you even if it was against your will. He wasn’t unlikeable after all, everyone on the track got along with him quite decently or let’s say almost everyone. But he wasn’t okay with you not liking him. Your beauty was not lost on him but it wasn’t just that; it was the way you carried yourself, the way you laughed and greeted people who you deemed worthy of your attention.

He had caught a glimpse of it. One day in the paddock. You had approached Charles, who was standing only a few meters away from Max. Max was lost in his own world, waiting for his turn to get interviewed. Charles arms wrapped around the small of your back as you embraced him in a hug. It was more than collegial but less then friends. It seemed like Charles knew you, or at least he was acquainted with you. He was talking to you about something and Max was relieved it looked casual and more like small talk. Wait why was he relieved? That was a little extreme; he didn’t even know you, he didn’t even know your name.

Well, not technically but he had overheard someone on your team calling you Juliet. He felt like it was an odd name for someone so young but lord knows. He decided he‘d just stick with it. In his head you became Juliet. Juliet who he knew nothing about, Juliet who had no instagram, Juliet who seemed to be completely anonymous on and off track. And Juliet, who unfortunately seemed to work for Mercedes. For a moment he wondered if he should just let it go. It was clear that you didn’t want to get to know him, by the way you paid him no attention at all. If Max wasn’t so confident that it was probably just about the fact that you worked for his biggest rival, he would habe been offended for sure.

But he was so sure that after some drinks and in the right setting, he'd eventually get you around and you‘d finally let him hear your beautiful voice again. There was a gala ahead of the Monaco Grand Prix. You had agreed to attend it, after Lewis had begged you to keep him some company. With the way the season had been going for him, he felt like he didn‘t have a lot of friends on track anymore. All of them seemingly friends with Max. Max, what an odd name for someone like him. You were torn between it being the perfect fit for the blonde haired guy or it being extremely far off. It sounded innocent and childlike, two things you were convinced the guy wasn’t.

You didn‘t know much about the dutch guy and you didn’t care to know more. Even though you knew most people adored him, you only cared about your dads opinion. And though your father agreed, Max was a talent in the sport, he found his attitude and demeanor off-putting and cocky. As with everything, you took your dads word for it and avoided the Red Bill driver as well as you could and you had almost succeded. Maybe you would have, if Max hadn‘t been so incredibly determined to get to know you.

The sparkling sensation of the overpriced champagne, melting on your tongue and then slowly running down your throat made you feel somewhat less anxious. You stood in the corner of the room, your satin gold dress fitting you ever so perfectly as it was topped off with a diamond braclet around your wrist. One you‘d have to return after this event. The necklace dangling from your neck, was one of your own. It was rather simple, just a gold heart along with the Letter J. Your dad had gifted it to you and you never ever took it off. The same guy was now standing further away in the big hall, suited up in his tuxedo as he talked to some seemingly very important people.

The look he sent you, the furrow in his eyebrows. You knew he was asking if everything was okay. You shot him a reassuring smile as he continued to endulge in his conversation, Lewis next to him. You weren’t sure why the driver had asked you to tag along. He had been busy talking to different influential people all night. You felt kind of like an outsider here but you were fine with that. You knew you had kind of put this on yourself. The only women your age here were some of the drivers girlfriends but you never really talked to them either. You werent like them after all. Not yet.

You wondered sometimes if they didn’t feel silly, whenever they accompained their partner to these things like some kind of accessories to be dropped off at the bar and picked up again before going home. None of them really knew anything about the sports and you couldn’t blame them for not being interested in talking to the people in this room. Hell, not even you were interested in long boring conversations about financing and campaigning. You weren’t here to do that, and if Lewis hadn’t begged you you would have never attended this event at all.

„Is your forehead fine again?“ a voice appeared. The sound of it unsteady but somehow still confident; cocky some may say. You turn your head to the right, looking at Mercedes nemesis. His ash blonde hair styled to perfection as his tuxedo was for sure tailored; he sort of looked like James Bond like this. It made you want to giggle but you figured that would have been rude. Not that you cared about what he thought of you.

„My forehead?“ you ask him.

Max chuckles shaking his head as he takes a sip of his water. He had opted for no alcohol tonight, which might have seemed odd to anybody else. This event almost seemed unbearable to any normal human being but Max was sort of used to it. Plus he had to race in a couple of days and he found that he could use the other drivers waisting their day to recover tomorrow to his advantage.

„Yes when you bumped into me you hurt your forehead.“ Max explained in sincere hope you‘d remember. You furrowed your eyebrows, avoiding his gaze. Fuck, you didn’t remember. Max cursed himself for being embarrassing; how silly to think you‘d remember it.

„That was so long ago though.“ you chuckled, running your fingers through your hair. Max sighed in relief, you did remember. He wasn’t so forgettable after all. He only needed that validation to gain his confidence back as he quite obviously looked you up and down, only standing about half a meter away from where you were leaning against the edge of a wall, behind you a big hall that led into all sort of different directions. You cleared your throat, feeling the dutch guys eyes travel you up and down. It wasn’t that you felt insecure but no one had ever checked you out this bluntly; cocky.

Why did this make you nervous? You felt like the voices in the room went silent as the jazz music playing in the background disappeared with them. Your lungs were running out of air but you couldn’t gasp for it. Max eyes fell on your face, your lips slightly parted. Did he notice you were about to pass out? The dutch guy took a step closer to you as you held your breath, what was he doing? There were so many cameras and people here.

„Juliet.“ Lewis, your savior appeared next to you. You finally could breath again as Max took a step back allowing Lewis to approach you. Lewis eyes shortly fell on Max as he looked at you with the same look your father always looked at you with; Are you okay?

You nodded, sending Lewis a reassuring smile. Max hadn’t done anything wrong, he was just trying to be nice right? After all you looked quite pathetic alone in the corner of the giant hall.

„Toto wants you to go home.“ Lewis pressed his lips together, completely ignoring Maxs presence. The dutch guy studying what was just happening in front of him. The way you relaxed in Lewis presence, you two were for sure close; but not in a romantic way. More like a big brother and a little sister? Max for sure hoped so. He didn’t understand why though, his obsession scaring even himself somehow.

But before he could even comprehend anything else he watched your smile turn into a frown. You nodded your head, much to his dislike. He didn’t want you to go home. Why did Toto even get to tell you what to do?

„I‘ll get a cab then.“ you nodded.

Lewis furrowing his eyebrows and shaking his head „No I‘ll get you home.“

„No Lewis, you should stay.“ you put on a reassuring smile, hoping it be enough to convince the older guy. Before wrapping your arms around his shoulder, embracing him in a short lived hug. A small kiss planted against his cheek before whispering in his ear „Have some fun.“

Max watched as your eyes fell on him one last time, ever so swiftly before sending him a quick smile. It was probably just your manners, being raised right but it meant much more than just a gesture to the blonde guy. He watched you turn on your heel, heading down the empty hallway and into the dark. His body filling with regret, he still knew nothing about you. Well, except your name; Juliet.

„Who is she?“ it sounded innocent, naive. Like Max forgot who he was talking to for a second. Lewis looked at the dutch guy, squinting his eyes. He shook his head as if he was trying to tell Max; not this one. No this one was way too special. But that wasn’t Max's intention; he wasn’t looking for a quick fix. He really wanted to get to know you. Every interaction seemingly leaving him knowing less than he thought.

He paced up and down a little standing in the corner where you had stood, the glass in his hand now empty. Staring at the bottom of it. It was empty. Sort of like his heart. God, why did he have to get sentimental now? He could feel his fathers eyes on him. The man standing next to his team principle, mustering his son with the stern look he had always on. Max had to resist the urge to roll his eyes, feeling like a five year old watched by his father. Monitored. That’s when it struck him, it had only been about five minutes since you left. Taking his chance, he turned around and hurried down the hallways. Running all the way down the stairs, people passing him left wondering why the one and only Max Verstappen was running down a staircase.

Outside, cars where lining up. The staircase packed with men and women dressed in fancy attire. Everyone stopping for the cameras hoping their picture would be printed in a monegasque tabloid which only consisted of gossip as far as you were concerned. You awaited your turn, knowing it probably take a while as this was one of the busiest week all year in Monaco. Your phone rang, so you pulled it out your bag. Seeing the name on your screen you sighed; you weren't in the mood to talk right now. He was probably just wondering why you left early. A slight breeze blowed through your hair and just as you wanted to sit down onto the cold pavement of the stairs a voice appeared behind you again.

„Don't you need to get that?“ Max spoke, his hand buried in the pockets of his pants ad he stood above you just about three steps away. You turned around looking up at the guy, confused by the sight of the most popular guy in the sports seemingly leaving the gala early. Or had he just followed you out here? However you shook your head, declining the ingoing call. You didn't even know what made you do it.

"You never told me your name."

„You never asked.“ you smiled back, feeling stupidly charmed by the thought of him having actually followed you here. Max smiled, feeling satisfied seeing you seemingly didn’t just hate him with all your guts. The dutch guy opened his mouth but before he could say anything, you interrupted him by jumping up the steps till you were literally almost chest to chest. You took your hand and held it over his mouth as Max furrowed his eyebrows and looked at you with wide eyes.

„Don’t ask. You only get to ask me three things.“ you whispered and Max seemed taken a back by your little game. You removed your hand from his face, allowing him to speek to see he was actually smiling.

„Why?“

„Is that your first question?“

„Oh, wait no!“ Max whisper yelled and it made you chuckle. This was very amusing to say the least. And you knew that your dad wouldn’t agree with this, but what was the harm in a little innocent game between two strangers, who by the break of dawn would never talk to one another again.

„Okay.“ Max took a deep breath, looking around the parking lot. If he only got to ask you three questions he knew he had to choose them wisely.

„I’ll give you this one; three questions. One night. That’s all we've got.“

Max wanted so badly to ask you why. To ask why only three questions. Why only one night? But for now he‘d just accept the fact that you offered to spend time with him. So without another word he held out his hand to you. He wasn’t afraid you‘d reject it anymore and he was proven right when you grabbed it. Raising your eyebrows, as if you were trying to ask him what he was planning to do. Max led you up the stairs again and then with a shrug, he looked back at you „If we only have one night I need to show you this.“

As you walked out onto the roof of the buildingi you almost couldn’t believe your eyes. Max had bribed some security guard into letting you two up here as it wasn’t actually permitted. You wondered how he knew this? Did he bring a lot of girls up here? You looked up at the sky, stars filling the night sky as you could feel Max follow closely behind you. The sound of the church bells ringing; midnight.

„I come out here when I need to clear my head.“ Max stated. You were surprised by his sudden openness, as you held onto the railing, that was made of thick marble. From up here you could see Monaco in all it’s glory, the promenade filled with people, the lights of the boats, the beautiful ocean. You loved it here, having grown up here most of your life.

„It’s beautiful.“ you muttered, smiling at him as he leaned against the railing next to you. Only his eyes weren’t set on the view. They were resting on you steadily. You blushed, readjusting your hair; so he wouldn’t see it. Max chuckled bringing up his hand to your face and tugging the piece of hair behind your ear again and as his fingers ever so slightly touched the skin of your ear, you held your breath „Don’t do that. You’re too beautiful to hide it.“

You chuckle, shaking your head „You’re bluntly straightforward aren’t you Verstappen.“

„Yeah, well I figured if we only have one night I might as well speak what's on my mind.“

As if he didn’t already do that. You liked it though, having always had a hard time committing to your feelings. To be honest about them.

„Okay. First question.“ Max now spoke, looking straight at you. You turned your body towards him, intrigued by what he might ask. The words that escaped his mouth surprised you „Have you ever been in love?“

You cleared you throat, almost embarrassed by your own game. Thinking back to all the times you had loved and lost people. Sure you had been in love before right? No name came to your mind though.

„It depends on how you perceive the word love.“ you shrugged, acting like you had this all under control „I have been in love with a lot of things; friends, family and even food. Even with places-"

You pointed at the view. Max understood then; you had grown up here. He looked at your face, the look behind your eyes one of insecurity. Where you not content with your answer? Max thought it was beautiful. He hadn’t ever heard someone connecting being in love to a place. It was unique but then again everything about you was different.

„Okay your turn.“ the dutch driver spoke, in order to make you stop questioning yourself. He walked backwards before dropping into one of the chairs that was placed on the roof. It looked like some of the staff sometimes hid up here to smoke a cigarette or something. The roof was abandoned otherwise overgrown with weeds: you loved that. It gave it an eerie look, like something out of a movie.

You plopped down on the chair facing Max, crossing your legs as you mustered him. You were intrigued, so many questions wandering your head. What was behind this happy exterior?

„Why do you race?“

Max put on a smile, he looked almost sad though. It looked like he thought about it for a second before pressing his lips together „I used to do it for my dad but now I probably just wanna prove to him that I can actually win this championship. Do what he couldn't do.“

„So you’re still doing it for him in a way.“

Max swallowed. He knew there was some truth behind your words.

„Not only. I also truly couldn‘t live without it.“ he stated and it sounded almost defensive. You shot him a smile, signaling you weren't trying to be rude. There was a moment of silence, the cars honking the only sound you could hear from up here. You looked up, the night sky clear showing off its thousands of stars; glistening up there like glitter. Max knew he had to be honest tonight, there was no time to waist. And as he watched you sit back in your chair looking up the sky with your hair falling over your shoulder he couldn't help himself.

„Okay, brutal honesty coming."

You perked your head up, looking at the guy merely a meter away from you. Max staring straight at you. He grabbed a hold of your chair before pulling you closer to him, with one swift motion. You had to resist the urge to yelp as it caught you by total surprise but you liked it. Max somehow was unpredictable and it was totally not the impression you had had of him. With his face now only inches away from you he leaned over, you could see the clearness in his eyes. The slight stubble on his face and his perfectly placed hair and god, he smelled good. The kind of smell, you would want to breath in in your final moments.

„Brutal Honesty?“ you asked.

„I really wanna kiss you.“

You didn't need nothing else. Your hand wrapping around his neck as you connected your lips. For a moment forgetting all about your worries and why this wasn’t the best idea. Maxs hand finding its way into your hair as his lips move against yours. His tongue slides against your bottom lip as if he was asking for entrance. It only takes you parting your lips for him to slide his tounge in fully. You hold your breath, whimper even as his hands begin to roam your body. Max had imagined kissing you a couple of times ever since he had laid eyes on you for the first time. It might sound silly and like he was a hopeless romantic and he would never have described himself as one but it was just something about you. He couldn’t quite put a name on it yet.

„Second question.“ he pulled away from you breathlessly. You giggled, pressing together your swollen lips „Already?“

„Would you like to come back to my place?“

Huge trees were placed on both sides of the road as you leaned your tiny frame out the window of the car that drove down the road like smooth butter. Maxs hand placed firmly on the bare skin of your thigh as his other held the steering wheel effortlessly. There was something about him im his element, although you knew that his attention was now mostly on you. His glances and smiles not going unnoticed on you as you could see the big house appear at the end of the road. A gate in front of it. This was a mansion. It was huge, in fact it looked like a full on palace. You had been in your share of fancy houses over the course of your live but never had you ever known someone to live like this. Just outside Monte Carlo. It was a dream. For a moment you actually pictured a live there. You‘d do so much with the place. The ideas running endlessly through you mind.

Then you remembered your dad. No, you shouldn’t think about him. All your live you had done everything he wanted. Done as he pleased. And it wasn’t that you didn’t like him anymore or that he had done something to upset you. In fact you didnt know why you had gone with Max. It was just something about him. Something about that night. It all just felt so right. But you knew that no one could ever find out about it.

Max parked his car right before the entry, ambient light glistening on the big patio with a huge pool in the middle. You gasped stepping out the car, looking around the place as you held on to your clutch „You must be filthy rich.“

Max chuckled, shaking his head as he stepped out beside you „Looks like my honesty is rubbing off on you.“

He was right, it wasn’t actually well mannered to talk about someones money. You had been around people with money all your life, it didn’t have that much meaning to you. But you were also aware of the fact some people hadn’t had that much fortune in life. That’s why you had chosen a rather private life; no public social media. You were completely anonymous in this world of glamour and you wouldn't ever wanna change that. Maybe thats why you kept away from people like Max.

„What about you? Who are you?“

„That‘s two questions.“ you looked back. Maxs face only lit up by the moon. He gives you a weak smile „You only have one left.“

The dutch guy chuckles shaking his head before licking his lips „You‘re gonna be the death of me woman.“

„Ouch. That‘s sounds derogatory.“ you joked, clutching your heart as if you had just been stabbed. But the feeling in your heart wasn‘t one of pain. You were afraid it was more one of comfort and peace. You felt safe here. Safe with Max. The guy shook his head once again before stepping towards you, his hands grabbing you by your waist. Firmly the held onto you ad he pulled you in towards his. His body against you, faces only inches apart.

„I wouldn‘t ever do that.“ he whispered, and you could swear you could feel his heartbeat „I wouldn‘t ever put you down.“

„I know.“ you nodded. His on hand travelled to the back of your neck as he pressed his lips against yours once again. It wasn’t as eager as the first time on the roof. But still it was senough to make your stomach go crazy. You moved your lips against Maxs, swearing that the taste of them would be imprinted in your mind forever. Your thoughts began wandering, you only had two questions left and you wanted to make sure that they were good ones. Your hand found it's way into his hair as you slightly tugged on it. Max chuckled against your lips.

„Let‘s get inside.“

Max studied you. The way you wandered around his dark halls, mustering the paintings and all the details. You hadn‘t taken Max for this kind of guy. You thought his house would have been modern and cold. But it was everything but that. The golden details against the gorgeous walls only being topped of by huge chandeliers hanging down from everywhere. It looked like something straight out a fairytale. This is just how you had always imagines Romeos house. But enough with that story as we all know how it ends.

„Do you live alone?“

The question may seem bland. But you wondered, didn‘t it ever get lonely in this big place? Although it was so beautiful, gorgeous even you couldn‘t picture spending your nights here alone. But Max was a handsome successful young man, he probably hardly ever was alone.

„Yes.“ he nodded, looking around the place as he followed you quietly. Like he didnt want to interrupt you connecting to the place. He always felt like it was special, even almost magical how people connected to this house. And he hoped that you‘d feel it too. He certainly could feel it with your presence here. It sounds silly but to Max it kind of felt like the house liked you „Well, mostly anyways. I of course have my family, dad mostly, that spends time here. And with my schedule, I hardly get to stay here for a long period of time.“

„That’s a pity. It‘s beautiful.“ you stated stopping in your tracks as a huge marble staircase unfolded in front of you. You looked back at Max, raising your eyebrow. he nodded allowing you to get up there. At the end of the staircase there was this huge wall, displaying all of Maxs medals and prices. There where also pictures of Max, over the course of his life. You silently looked through them. It was like his whole life was splattered on this one wall. But you just felt like there was something missing. The shiny and gold didn‘t fool you. There was so much more to that blonde boy on the picture, with his fathers arm around him. The expression on his face confusing as it looked like he was smiling but the smile didn‘t reach his eyes. You traced the picture with your finger before muttering under your breath „Don‘t waste your love on somebody, who doesn‘t value it.“

„What?“

„Nothing.“ you shook your head. You shouldn‘t say anything. You turned around putting on a smile, trying to distract drom the fact you had just gotten a little to personal. Your dad used to say that to you. It was of course his favorite quote from Romeo and Juliet and you had lived by it. But you felt like it applied to everyone. Even your fathers enemies had their share of hardships and heartache. The nature of his fathers character being publicly known. How could he have treated this little boy with so little love or care? You'd never understand, coming from a loving family yourself.

„Okay.“ Max chuckled shrugging his shoulders.

„Okay.“

The pressure against the bare skin on your back drove you crazy as you felt the stone cold wall press against you. Max hands all over you as he attacked the skin on your neck with kisses. You threw your head to the side, your hair feeling greasy already. The waves of emotion you had went through tonight caused you to sweat like crazy. You were basically glistened and glazed but Max didn't seem to care much. No in fact he was eagerly undoing his white button up, as he had already dropped his blazer sonwhere. You helped him, fidgeting with the material of his shirt.

You felt nervous knowing what was about to happen, you hadn’t ever considered yourself good at it and other than that you only had a handful of experience. But Max clearly knew what he was doing. This came easy to him and you envied that somehow. If only knew that in Maxs mind everything about you was perfect in this very moment. He didn’t care about how experienced you were or even what underwear you were wearing. This was about so much more than that to him. If only you knew.

„Max.“ you whimpered, as his hands started oppening the back zipper of your dress. His lips connecting to yours again as he swiftly pressed a kiss against it. He pulled away looking into your eyes with concern. Why did he care this goddamn much?

„Tell me.“ he spoke, his hand caressing your cheek.

„I don’t know:“ you shrugged, shaking your head „I’m just not that good at this.“

„What are you saying?“ Max furrowed his eyebrows. He almost wanted to laugh at how ridiculous you were being but he was scared it might come off as rude or insensitive.

Instead he shook his head before whispering „Don’t say that. You’re perfect.“

„I’m not.“

„Brutal honesty; shut up.“

You giggled, punching his chest playfully as Max pressed his lips onto yours, so he could silence you. And you knew just then, how hard it would be to leave this one behind.

The sex was great. Really great. Max basically took the lead after you had expressed your concern to him. Laying you down on his bed, your clothes were gone within seconds. You thanked god, that it was relatively dark or you‘d have been having second thoughts about laying there completely naked. The moonlight hit your face, as Max hovered above you putting on a condom. You watched him do so propped up on your arms: It was sort of hot, watching him eagerly rip open the package. He then hovered above you again, his lips finding yours once again.

He gave you a little time to adjust to him after he entered inside you. And then his pace was steady. It was silent in the room the only sound, the sounds of your moans and bodys moving against eachother. Your legs wrapped around Max as you tried to not reach your high to early. but it seemed almost impossible, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. And when Max‘s lips connected with yours again after whispering „You‘re addicting.“

His movements got faster. You bit the skin on his shoulder resisting the urge to scream as he want deeper and deeper with each of his movements. It was all you needed. The sweet sensation came over you and it didn’t take much longer for Max, just a couple of pushes and he was there as well. A deep groan escaping his lips, somehow so masculine but also so vulnerable. Not that those two couldn’t go hand in hand but Max seemed incredibly confident to show it to you.

He collapsed above you, resting inside you for a little while longer. Both catching your breath. And then ever so wholesome he placed a kiss on top of your lips before whispering „Thank you.“

Had he just thanked you for having sex with him?

„Max.“ you mumbled, as he held your body close to his.Laying between his sheets just waiting for the morning to come, talking about life and death. Whether or not you believed in an afterlife. Everything important you'd talk about in a relationship, just in one night. It was tragically ironic; how similar you an Max seemed to be. Considering that the sun would rise soon and you‘d never ever speak to him again. You just wished it could have lasted a little longer.

„What?“

„You still have a question left.“

„You first.“

You chuckled, thinking about it for a second. There wasn’t one question that would satisfy you. You knew that. You knew you wanted to know much more about Max. Why had you done this to yourself? You should have listened to your dad.

„Will you ever tell anyone about this?“

Max swallowed, you didn’t trust him? He hadn’t done anything weong had he. He pulled your body closer to his, noticing you tense up. It was all done on purpose by you. The sudden cold demeanor. You wanted to somehow make this easier on both of you.

„No of course not.“

„Okay. That's good."

Silence fell over the the two of you again. Max was hurt. Hurt about your sudden distance. Had he been wrong about you? Whatever had just happened? Your emotion switching not going unnoticed to him. Little did he know that a tear was dropping down onto his pillow and it was you who was just as hurt. Hurt by your own actions and hurt that you‘d have to leave this house, this place, this man in less than an hour.

The sun rose, slowly. You could hear Maxs steady breaths beside you and thanked god he had fallen asleep. That would make all of this a little less gruesome. In absolute silence you untangled yourself from his grasp. Collected your things along with his shirt, as it was probably rather fresh outside. And then you walked out the bedroom door. Down the halls of the huge place, not being able to look left or right. The only place you put in a short stop was in front of the wall. Looking at the picture of the little boy once again.

„Don’t waste your love on someone, who doesn’t value it Max.“

The weekend came around. Max was strutting the paddock after qualifying, giving interviews to reporters as his mood was rather down. Even after the good qualifying, he just couldn’t stop thinking about you. Ever since he had woken up without you in his bed that morning. He had hoped you would have at least told him goodbye. He knew he would see you again but he was sure you would not pay him attention. After all you had been stone cold clear; one night. And he had promised you, to stay true to the deal.

„Good drive mate.“ Charles approached Max, who was leaning against the wall watching the other drivers give interviews. Max smiled, patting Charles on the back. Knowing it meant a lot to the Ferrari driver that he had gotten pole in his home race. Unaware of how unlucky his race would turn out to be.

„You too.“ Max nodded, drinking from the straw from his bottle.

Charles continued to talk to Carlos, who had also approached the two guys as Max's mind began to wander once again.

The conversations he had with you. The way you had listened to him all night. How you had told him your dream was to live in a place like his house. And how he promised you, he'd buy you one one day. Your sudden change in demeanor. Your last question. And what you had left behind on his nightstand; a necklace. The letter J on it. He'd probably just drop it off at Mercedes, saying he'd found it on the ground some time. But for now he couldn't get himself to get rid of it. He knew close to nothing about you and yet he knew your soul so well. The necklace was all he had. It was horribly tragic.

„Lewis!“

Max couldn’t believe his ears. He looked to the right, seeing you sprint across the paddock after Lewis. Lewis stopped in his tracks, you handed him some paper with a smile on your face. Dressed in your mercedes attire. Lewis seemed to be happy about whatever was written on the paper but Max couldn’t be less interested in that right now. All he knew was that you were here. You were here. And you didn’t even look at him.

„What‘s the deal with that Juliet girl?“ he tapped Charles shoulder, to get his attention. Charles looked up at Max confused on why the dutch guy had interrupted him and Carlos. He furrowed his brows „Who?“

„You know that Juliet girl. That works for Mercedes.“

Still nothing. Max began to grow worried that Juliet was all in his mind. Was he going crazy?

„The one you sometimes talk to?“

„I don’t know a Juliet Max.“

„Her.“ with frustration Max pointed towards you standing next to Lewis. Charles looked confused for a second before he chuckled seeing who Max was talking about. His eyes falling on the stunning woman he did in fact sometimes talk to, having known her for quite some time himself.

„That’s not Juliet.“ Charles giggled, Maxs stomach dropped. How had he been supposed to know that Juliet wasn’t your actual name. Just how your dad had always called you; your nickname.

“Her name’s Y/n.“

„What?“

„Yeah she‘s Totos daughter. Not many people know he had a daughter some time ago.“ Charles explained and Max felt like the ground had just been pulled out from beneath him. All he had known seemingly a big lie. Well you hadn‘t lied about it, you just had forgotten to mention it. Now Max understood everything. Your secret act. The way Lewis had told you, Toto wanted you to go home. The way you couldn’t be with him. Not because of Mercedes, no because your dad absolutely despised him„Why are you asking anyways?“

Charles looked at Max, somewhat suspicious. The look on Maxs face, was not one Charles could read. Max looked almost startled.

„I wouldn’t think about it though Max.“ the Ferrari driver advised his friend, scared he might actually find you interesting „Her dad's somewhat crazy from what I've heard. Plus I think she basically is dating George. Rumor has it, that‘s how he got his seat for next season.“

Your eyes had fallen onto Max now. Charles next to him. Fuck. He knew.

The look in Max's eyes one of betrayal as he stared right at you. It all went so fast after, Max stomping straight towards you as you could hear your phone ring „George“. Just like the night on the staircase. Only now this time you choose not to ignore it, hoping it hinder Max from actually causing a scene.

„Hey George.“

„Hello love, where are you? I‘m done with Interviews.“

The terror in your eyes grew. Lewis now noticing the dutch guy strutting towards you as he nudged your shoulder a questioning look on his face. Max couldn‘t do this, he had promised you. But that was before you realized; Max had one question left.

2K notes · View notes

transmutationisms · 9 months

Note

starting to loathe the phrase ‘gender affirming surgery’ tbh like yes its a category, get why it exists… yadda yadda…. and yet it feels like setting up a dichotomy of ‘our pure intentioned god honoring surgery’ vs ‘their vile frivolous surgeries’ like there’s some sort of epidemic of surgery georgs that deserve to be shamed or shunned.

yeah it's a frustrating phenomenon i've noticed, where even people who consider themselves trans-positive will critique plastic / cosmetic surgery as being frivolous / self-loathing / socially regressive / anti-feminist and then they'll try to tack on some kind of caveat that exempts the 'approved' procedures done for 'gender affirmation'. in practice this is not an actionable distinction lol, and trying to restrict access to plastic surgery legally or through social shaming mechanisms is going to affect trans people and transition care no matter how you slice it. these kinds of claims also get particularly confused by the fact that there simply is no clean line between procedures sought out for transition and procedures sought out by cis people... eg, how are you going to sit there demonising buccal fat removal or rhinoplasty or lipo as only existing due to social pressure and being therefore abhorrent, without also threatening access to those procedures for True Transsexuals using them for Approved Gender Changes?

and anyway, more fundamentally what actual difference is there between, like, a cis man not feeling manly enough and getting hair plugs or whatever because of that, and a trans man seeking out lipo or top surgery or whatever else as part of his transition care? like what actual line exists here, when gender and gendered beauty standards affect us all, cis people no less than trans, and shape ideas about what the 'normal' and desirable body looks like? and i don't think 'gender-affirming surgery' is some morally pure category either, like what was i seeking out when i got top surgery besides a normative idea of a 'male chest' defined along lines of eurocentric, able-bodied standards just as are any other concepts of 'normal' gender embodiment...? i've said before, but: fundamentally you either think people should have the autonomy to change their own bodies through surgical means if they so choose, or you don't. this isn't something where you can pick and choose because there's no ontological difference between the procedures and justifications you like and the ones you don't lol.

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salllzy · 10 days

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Sal's rambling #9

Vox knew things about Alastor that he was sure that no one in Hell knew, Vox had been Alastor's best friend and as such had been privy to certain information.

Vox knew that when Alastor had been human he had a daughter, Sarah. But Alastor had never told him everything about his daughter, as much as he enjoyed and valued his friendship with Vox, Alastor didn't trust anyone with his daughter's secret. He would never let anyone harm her. Not now, not ever. She had been born from an affair with a British woman, Alastor had loved the woman in his own way and had agreed to marry her. For him it had been the perfect way to keep his cover as a serial killer hidden. What Alastor hadn't expected was to get attached to the woman and the spawn that she carried. Alastor's mother had been over the moon when she found out that she was becoming a grandmother and had made it her mission to spoil her grandbaby. Then Sarah had been born of course she hadn't been named that, in fact, neither of them had picked out a name for her. It had taken them a week to decide on a name and even then it hadn't been Alastor or his wife who had named her. It had been his mother. "Look at her, she is her daddy's little princess." It had been easy enough to name her Sarah after that and his mother was correct, Sarah was his little princess. He would slaughter anyone who would so much as look at her wrong. She was his world. He wasn't even that broken up when he and his wife divorced and she moved to France to be with another man, so long as he had his daughter then everything would be fine. As she got older, she began to mimic her father more and more, instead of wearing traditional women's clothing, she wore trousers and suits. She also wanted to be a radio host much like he was and he couldn't have been more proud. But as she grew older he noticed that there was something other about his daughter, a glint of red in her eyes that became more and more pronounced as she got older, her canines were sharp like that of a large cat and more often than not he found her doing things that no human should be capable of. So he became more protective of her. Then one day he found her covered in blood standing over a mutilated body with a feral look in her eyes. Hidden behind her legs was a small child that was sobbing, in Sarah's hands was a knife. Alastor didn't think twice about taking the knife from his daughter's hand and moving her away from such a gruesome scene even by his standards.

The child clung to his daughter's legs and refused to let go, in any other situation he would find it worrying, but his daughter had just murdered someone in a truly horrifying way and he needed to protect her. He also got in contact with the Voodoo priests that his mother was friends with. "Nephilim, Nephilim, Nephilim!" Alastor wasn't religious, he had never believed in God, but even he knew what a Nephilim was. He also knew that his daughter was in danger should anyone find out. It was then that he threw himself into the Voodoo lessons that his mother had taught him as a child. He wouldn't allow anyone to take advantage of his daughter, he would kill them first. But he also knew that she would need training, he couldn't help her. Not as he was, he could offer advice and guidance but that was it. But he did start taking her hunting with him, showing her how to track prey, Alastor had morals, he never targeted an innocent person and he always went after the scum of the earth. Something that his daughter had taken to heart. Much like before she followed hin her father's footsteps. If the police weren't going to keep the streets clean then they would. Eventually, it would all come to an end when he was shot and killed. It was his biggest regret leaving his daughter alone. She had been only nineteen when he had died, just a few weeks shy of her twentieth birthday. He took to Hell like a duck taking to water, he knew that his daughter would end up in Hell, given that she had followed in his footsteps. Less than two years later she arrived in Hell with all the grace of a bomb going off. He didn't know if he was relieved that she was with him once more or concerned that she was in Hell and there was a big possibility that Hell was not ready for her. Earth hadn't been. So he kept her a secret and one that he guarded well, until one day she brought home a blonde-haired girl with gold eyes and a rubber duck clutched in her hands, Alastor knew that their peaceful life was about to be over.

#hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #sal's ramblings #alternate universe #radioapple #dad alastor

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sexy-n-stressed · 6 months

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Deck the halls (Conner Kent X Male Reader one shot)

A/N: Hi everyone, so, this will be my first post on writing Tumblr, and a bit of a pivot for me. I have a history of writing fanfiction, but have decided to start writing one-shots (and smut….soon…) as I am terrible at committing to full-length stories. This is just a quick story, which I'm planning to follow up with in the next part. Also, it's Christmas for me today so yay fluffy Christmas?

Also, most if not all of my stories will be male readers, as I am a male and want to make stories for people like me who have struggled to find stories like this with male representation. That being said, all gender identities are allowed to interact with my stories, and I may accept female reader requests. So fire away!

Please send me story requests, and follow and comment so I know you're reading! Thank you!

Side note, in my version of things, Conner’s introduction happens like that of young justice but a fair bit later, meaning Dick Grayson is grown etc while Conner is still freshly….minted?

————————————————————

Christmas was a time of snow, cheesy movies and overplayed sellout Christmas albums. And, as Y/N would find out, boys. Specifically Conner Kent.

The holiday had started innocently, with the newest adopted son of Bruce Wayne being invited along to a combined lunch with the Kent family, which was also apparently the family of Superman. Being adopted into a wealthy socialite family was one thing, especially after bouncing around the foster system among families in the Narrows, Gotham's seedy underbelly. Being adopted into the Batfamily was something else entirely.

With the whole new host of Vigilante siblings and father, came an immense amount of pressure to live up to the moral standard they had set. Between attending Galas, etiquette training, crime fighting and fitting into a family of ‘misfit’ angsty superheroes, the chances of failure kept building and it was obvious that everything was doomed to come crashing down.

Lately, you had been missing training sessions, forgetting to show up for the rich socialite events Bruce was forced to attend, even the ones in your own home, which was more of a haunted house anyway.

It was obvious that Bruce was less than happy, disappointed even in your behaviour, though he wouldn't voice it. Having just been adopted into the family meant that everyone was still walking on eggshells around you, not paying you much mind when you both were and weren't present, only engaging in simple small talk. It wasn't necessarily their fault, you had made no real effort to reach out or connect. A side effect of an unstable home life you guessed.

Arriving at the Kent family farm was like a deep breath. There were no looming crystal chandeliers, no extravagant staircases or dining tables and absolutely no overbearing elitists. You felt free among the cutesy knick-knacks and homemade furniture.

“Welcome!” A warm voice beamed as the thick oak door creaked open, laced with a typical southern drawl one would expect around these parts. The voice belonged to Clark’s mother, or ma as she liked to be called. A southern thing you assumed.

As greetings and gifts between the two initially standoffish families took place, a firm hand was pointed in your direction. Quickly shaking it, you remembered to force eye contact with Clark, or, Mr.Kent as you would confusingly call both him and his father for the rest of the gathering, regardless of any request to “Please, call me Clark”

The sturdy man emitted a soothing warmth, both from his comforting personality and from the literal solar warmth the man contained, powering his God-like abilities. It may have been snowing, but the Kent’s felt like a warm sunburst in the backdrop of a picturesque photograph.

Clark made a comment about speaking to you more later in the evening, most likely welcoming you into the family and wider network of connections Bruce held, and swept away to greet his other guests while preparing the most likely gargantuan amount of food about to be consumed.

Eyes sweeping the room, you looked for somebody to strike up a conversation with, both to follow the etiquette training rules of sociability and to escape an awkward, overbearing conversation with the more intense few present, such as Ma Kent. While you held absolutely nothing against the woman, her booming laugh and exaggerated body movements made you almost queasy with nerves.

You weren't waiting long though, as the boy you guessed to be Conner Kent, who you had been told not to ask about his relation to the Kents for some reason, dropped a cartoonishly large crate of apples behind you, with the stragglers rolling off into every direction.

Dropping to the floor, you began helping the boy gather the fallen produce, heaving armfuls of the crisp red apples back into the crate.

He seemed mad, muttering words you assumed to be swears under his breath as he practically threw the apples back into the crate, bruising them.

“At least it wasn’t eggs?” You awkwardly interjected. He stared at you silently, for what felt like an hour, before lightly chuckling.

“What?” The boy stared blankly at you, seemingly not understanding the joke.

“Well because if it was eggs then they would… break, y’know?”

“Oh!” He burst into laughter at the explanation, somehow enjoying the joke.

Still laughing, he stood up, brushing off his knees before extending a hand towards you. “I'm, uh, Conner..”

He subtly cringed as he spoke, stopping himself from saying the word Kent. You understood that all too well, not feeling right calling yourself a Wayne.

“I'm Y/N…” Your avoidance of the word Wayne seemed to strike a cord within him, and the two of you felt instantly closer. Shaking hands with Conner was like playing a thumb war with a gorilla. He seemed to force himself to subdue the intense Kryptonian strength he possessed.

“Thank you for your help” Conner spoke, standing uncomfortably in a way that suggested he was unfamiliar with social interaction. You, on the other hand, were just uncomfortable with it.

“You’re welcome.” came the awkward reply. “Need a hand with that?” gesturing towards the large apple crate. Did you seriously just ask a Kryptonian if they needed help lifting something? You were already blowing this lunch.

“Why would I need a hand? I have two” Conner confusedly responded, looking down at his hands to confirm he did, in fact, have both.

“No, like, help lifting that.” You once again pointed to the apple crate.

“Oh,” He sounded dejected, clearly upset with himself for misinterpreting that.

“No, no it's my fault. That didn't make any sense” you quickly spoke, moving towards Conner and beginning to lift the crate, to which he effortlessly heaved it into the air. You would feel embarrassed if the endearing tensing of his back and arm muscles wasn't completely distracting you.

The two of you walked the crate to the kitchen, as Ma gleefully rubbed her hands together while mumbling about making apple pie better than someone named Dolores ever could. The murderous glint in her eye told you she was not playing about her apple pie.

“Ma really likes her apple pie” Conner explained as you exited the kitchen. He stopped, before turning to you with an excited look.

“Would you like to see my room?”

A/N: Y/N may have W rizz. Also, the formatting of Tumblr is new to me, so if there is anything annoying with how this is laid out, let me know! Pease send Requests too! I'm excited to see what comes in!

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itsclydebitches · 1 year

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Jonelias thought of the day is that Elias must come across as so stuffy and boring to those at the Institute - which, you know, very much helps hide his true nature - but as an avatar of the Eye and a man determined to avoid the End, Elias is someone whose entire being revolves around the interplay of knowledge and experiences. He's compelled to Know it all and his efforts to avoid death invite him to Experience it all too, a fascinating combination of passive observer and, by virtue of being a 200+ year-old in search of true immortality, an active participant too. This is a man whose longevity and thirst for knowledge invites an obsession with life that contradicts the 'Sits in his office doing nothing but spreadsheets all day' image he's learned to cultivate. (Though, to be clear, he does love the spreadsheets.) And I don't just mean "obsession with life" in the sense of him avoiding the finality of death, but actually loving the act of being alive.

I think a lot of what the fandom (rightly) jokes about in regards to his characterization is a reflection of that obsession. Elias has a relationship with Peter Lukas that goes far beyond the cold practicality of an alliance, hinting at a romance (if you steer towards a LonelyEyes reading), or just Elias' desire to still be able to place bets with someone while he's trying to end the world. Similarly, his powers ensure that he's never truly alone - if he dies, he takes the rest of the Archive with him - forever supplying him with a warped companionship that doesn't threaten him like he perceives he was threatened as Jonah Magnus, with his acquaintances working to complete their own rituals. In true Beholding style, he's got the heart of a fucked-up scientist who's endlessly curious about the world around him: 'Oooh what happens if I let my friend waste away in the Lonely?' He shows up at Jon's birthday party not just to secretly gloat and keep an eye on things (ha), but because he legitimately wants cake. Who wouldn't want cake? What's the point of living forever if you can't have cake?? Well, for an avatar the exquisite sweetness of fear is just as good, but my point stands. Beyond his fear of death, that enjoyment is at the heart of Elias' goal, with Jon describing his experience as the Pupil as a kind of agonized bliss and Elias confirming this by saying he was having the most wonderful dream. Morality aside, he likes interacting with the horror of the Entities, something we saw all the way back during the "[PLEASURED EXHALATION]" scene. Learning new things feels good. Experiencing news things is enjoyable. Learning and experiencing Bad Things is especially nice given his patron. Consistently, Elias' setbacks are met with interest, or a mild annoyance that then eventually settles into satisfaction because they are also new experiences for him and the Eye: going to jail, getting to psychologically torture Martin, having his own secrets exposed. There's a lot throughout the series to imply that Elias enjoys watching Jon become the Key, not just because it means he's succeeding in his goals, but because there's genuine interest and pride in seeing him "grow" by Elias' standards. The repetition of "our world," "our patron," etc. implies a connection; the intention to experience this new world with another, to enjoy it rather than simply exist in it for the mere sake of existence. Elias is a man whose entire essence boils down to, "I NEED TO KNOW ALL THE THINGS, EXPERIENCE EVERYTHING, AND LIVE FOREVER WHILE ACHIEVING THAT, TO UNDERSTAND IT ALL SO I CAN CONTROL IT ALL AND HAVE A DAMN GOOD TIME IN THE PROCESS, EVEN WHILE I SUCCUMB TO THE PRIMAL FEAR THAT DRIVES ME I WILL PARADOXICALLY EMBRACE IT, AND YEAH THAT'S LARGELY BECAUSE I SERVE THE LITERAL GOD OF JUDGY SURVEILLANCE BUT ALSO THAT'S JUST ME."

So anyway, I keep thinking about how this characterization could intersect with S1-2 Jon: prickly, awkward, semi-isolated, desperate to be recognized by someone whose authority he believes in. AKA the boss who, at an unprecedented young age, rose to the top of the Institute they both work at, perceived by those around him as far less interesting than he actually is. Parallels, anyone? Imagine Jon getting to really talk to Elias, realizing how much he has to offer after 200 years of life (though of course he doesn't know that), and just constantly being blindsided by not just the knowledge, but the enthusiasm for everything he's learned and been through - the good and the horrifyingly awful that, despite himself, Jon is equally drawn to. Elias recognizes every quote Jon drops into a conversation and has another witty line to pair it with. He doesn't just indulge his nerdy rambles, but participates in them. He's refined in all the ways that Jon expects - books, opera, music, etc. - and also casually drops in references to acid trips and fucking orgies. Imagine an early series Jon who forms a strong bond with Elias outside of the web (ha x2) he's been weaving, becoming dependent on his friendship and just a little bit completely in love. Elias is inherently fascinating, but he's also just Some Guy, and the combination of that is just perfect for a necrotic Archivist who simultaneously wants to be guided by his 'betters' and prove that he's an equal. Why Elias would be interested in turn barely needs stating: Jon is literally Elias' everything, in a horrifyingly tragic and like, Gothic Romance sense? What would that kind of relationship have changed? It would have likely made Elias' job even easier, but what about Jon?

...I'm not saying that Jon's drive to protect humanity would have been warped into something tragically dangerous if he'd first come to see his intelligent, complex, shockingly kind (from his nonexistent self-esteem POV), secretly-an-eldritch-monster boss as the epitome of humanity... but I'm also not saying it couldn't have!

#TMA #The Magnus Archives #Jonelias #this is so rambly I'm sorry #I'm just having a lot of feelings about these two #Jon deserves a corruption arc that he's convinced himself is a hero's journey #as a treat #also I keep thinking about Elias' refusal to define a human #and the Witcher line about Regis - a vampire - being the best of humanity #can a monster be human?#sure why not #especially when so many humans are already monstrous #I just want Jon to rule under a horrifically misguided idea of which humans are worth protecting #his wonderful desire to protect molded into not just the key that will end the world #but the thing that perpetuates its torment #as! a! treat!

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absurdthirst · 1 year

Text

Protective Big Brother {Frankie Morales x Davis!F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 20.7k

Warnings: BDSM elements, rough sex, derogatory language, use of safe words, bondage, oral sex (male and female receiving), spanking, plugs/toys, anal sex, public sex, threats of violence, guns

Comments: When you come to visit Tom after breaking up with your boyfriend, you start a very satisfying fling with Frankie. Having to keep everything a secret from your overprotective asshole brother, everything comes to a head when he comes over and sees his friend doing unspeakable things to his little sister.

A/N: It is mentioned several times within the story that you are Tom's adopted sister. While I personally dislike Tom Davis....you can't choose family and it would be fun to see how he reacts!

Co-written by @storiesofthefandomlovers

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

|| MasterList || Frankie Morales MasterList ||

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

Frankie chuckles, sipping his beer as he listens to Benny defend his latest defeat. "The guy was left handed. It threw me off." The younger Miller brother shakes his head and you snort, "sure Ben. That's what sent you down to the ground within three rounds." You sip your own beer while the other guys snort.

"Even my little sister can see that's bullshit." Tom nudges you playfully and Benny huffs.

"Adopted sister." You roll your eyes, knowing that even if you weren’t blood, you were still Tom's family...as much as he's an asshole, he's still your brother. Tom pouts at you and takes another sip of his beer.

"Thank God you're adopted." Benny quips, winking at you. "Don't want to look like him."

"Fuck you, Ben." Tom throws Benny a finger and the guys start laughing while Benny throws another insult towards the other man.

You set your beer down, looking over at Frankie. God, he looks so sexy with his worn "Standard Oil" cap and scruffy mustache. You wonder how it would feel between your- "Are you listening to me?" Tom huffs and you turn to look at him.

"Huh?" You ask, still a little lost in your fantasy of Frankie.

"I asked if you want to go to the girls' soccer game tomorrow?" He asks and you nod, "sure. That sounds good." You sip your beer again, trying to not get distracted by Frankie.

Frankie’s brow furrows, wondering what has you distracted. You seem like you are off in your own little world and he wonders if you have something going on in your personal life that you are musing over. As Tom’s sister, you’ve always been firmly off limits, but he has eyes and he’s surprised that you aren’t talking about a boyfriend. Although Tom probably discourages that as much as possible.

“Fish.” He looks away from you to see Benny grinning at him.

“What?” He asks, making his friend giggle.

“You’re lost in lala land, man.” Benny teases.

“A lot of that going around.” Tom grumbles.

You roll your eyes at your brother, taking another sip of your beer. After a moment, your eyes flick back to Frankie. God, he’s so sexy and you just know he has capable hands. Your gaze drops to his hand, that tiny little bullseye tattoo he has there makes you want to lick it.

“Jesus, you are out of it.” Benny shakes his head and you shake your head at the younger Miller brother.

“And? I have a right to be. I just broke up with my boyfriend.” You tell the younger brother, revealing the real reason that you are visiting your brother and his family in Florida.

Frankie hates the way that his entire body comes to attention at the news that you are single. You are off limits, he tells himself, just like he’s told himself every time you come around them. Luckily, you’ve been with this now discarded boyfriend most of this time and Frankie doesn’t encroach.

“Damn, what happened?” Benny is probably Frankie’s favorite person right now for asking the question that he wants to know most. He leans forward and tries to look nonchalant as he waits for the answer.

You sigh, knowing you can’t tell them the entire truth about why you broke up with your boyfriend. “We just wanted different things. He wanted me to be his little housewife. Pregnant and cooking his breakfast lunch and dinner but that- I’m not ready for that. Not sure I ever will be. I just - we had different interests. Different…desires.” You finish, clearing your throat before you sip your beer again, avoiding looking at any of the men surrounding you.

Frankie hisses under his breath but Tom is scowling fiercely enough to kill your ex with a look. “Do I need to kill him?” He demands, hand tightening around his beer bottle. “Did he hurt you? Force you to do shit you didn’t want to do?” Tom can be questionable at times, they all can, but right now he’s in protective big brother mode. Years of special forces training just itching to be put to use.

You reach out to touch your brother’s upper arm. “No. We are - he understood and he didn’t do anything to hurt me.” You huff under your breath, “that was the issue.” Tom is too busy acting like the Tasmanian Devil from Looney Tunes to really listen to you. “He didn’t force me to do anything. Calm down. It’s over and I am here. I’m fine. Seriously Tom, no need to go and find him and kick his ass.”

Frankie, due to years of watching for signals and loud engines, reads lips. Smirking at your uncaught comment, he slaps Tom on the shoulder. “Relax man, she would come to you if something happened.” He tells his friend. “Besides, it wouldn’t just be you hiding the body.” His dark eyes turn to you. “We’d all help if he had stepped over the line.”

You roll your eyes, “like having multiple protective brothers.” Tom relaxes, downing the rest of his beer. Your eyes meet Frankie’s, noticing the downturn of his mouth at that comment.

Benny distracts you, “hell yes. I’ll kick their ass.” He promises, putting his fists up. Tom snorts, reaching out to slap Benny’s shoulder.

“I know you got my back. Listen, I’m gonna get to bed. Long ass day and Molly gets pissed when I get into bed stinking of beer. Gonna take a shower and get some sleep. You two-” He points at Frankie and Benny, “are gonna spend the night. You’ve had some beers and I don’t need to be bailing your ass out of jail in the morning.”

Frankie shakes his head, “I’ve had three beers man.” He huffs but Tom just points at him.

“Guest room is occupied but the sofa and the pull out sofa are free.” He tells Benny who nods, swaying a little as he gets up. He might’ve indulged after his recent defeat.

“I call the pull out sofa.” He stumbles to walk to Tom’s den, pulling out the sofa with Tom’s help.

“Night.” Your brother tells you, “get some sleep.”

You nod, looking over at Frankie. “You want some water?” You ask him, knowing he will likely leave anyway.

“Sure.” He nods and you walk into Tom’s kitchen, grabbing a water from the fridge.

“I bet Benny has already passed out.” You chuckle, handing him a bottle.

“Yeah.” Frankie chuckles and twists off the cap. He’s sober. The three beers he’s nursed was over the course of hours, but he wasn’t going to argue about staying. Not if it meant getting to spend a little more time with you. “So I guess I should say that I’m sorry you broke up with your boyfriend, but I’m not.” Frankie tells you. “Sounds like he was a douchebag and not good enough.” He gives you a grin as he tips the bottle back to down half of it in three large swallows.

You lean back against the counter, watching him and you want to just lean in and kiss his neck, see how he reacts. “Yeah I- I miss him but we just weren’t compatible. He wanted soft and sweet. I wanted…well, I wanted something different.” You admit, biting your lip. Frankie’s hands look so capable, you want to know what it would feel like to be spanked by him. Many would say the pilot is sweet but you’ve seen sides to him that tell you he can be rough when he needs to be, to be in charge.

“What do you want?” Frankie asks, almost challenging you to tell him, curiosity sparked.

You look him in the eye, knowing that it’s now or never. “I wanted it rough. I wanted him to destroy me and leave me begging for more. I wanted him to choke me and spank me and shove his cock down my throat so hard that I gagged. I wanted to be used. He was too sweet and felt awkward to do it. I wasn’t satisfied sexually and I had to end it.”

“Jesus.” He hisses quietly, eyes sliding over to the door to make sure that Tom wasn’t lurking. He’s sure your over protective brother would beat his ass just for hearing what you want. Especially if he could tell the way that Frankie’s cock leapt to attention.

“Really?” His dark eyes find yours again and he gives you a tiny smirk. “You think you could actually take that, princesa? Playing the whore?” His voice dips down, low and raspy. God, he’s fantasized about you, in so many different ways, but the idea of spanking you? Stuffing your throat with his cock and making you scream his name? Fuck, he wants that.

You gasp under your breath, stomach twisting with arousal from his question and the way his voice feels in a way you’ve never heard before. You nod, “I could take it. I want to take it. Be stuffed full and used for pleasure. Like a dirty little whore.” You step closer to him, unable to help yourself. “To be dripping cum and satisfied because I was used for my holes.”

“Fuck.” Frankie bites his lip, knowing what he wants, but there is the small fact that you are Tom’s sister. But right now, he doesn’t care. “Push two fingers into your cunt right now.” He demands, wanting to see you push your hand under your leggings, to see if you would blindly follow his orders.

You can’t stop the surprised moan that escapes your lips and you follow his order immediately, but you decide to have a moment of fun. You slowly slide your hand down your stomach before dipping into your leggings. You rub your clit for a moment until you are pushing two fingers into your already wet cunt. Your eyes meet Frankie’s as you moan, leaning back against the kitchen counter.

God, you’re sexy. He’s known that forever, but the way that you look with your eyes fluttering has his cock swelling against the seam of his jeans. “Stop.” He growls, reaching over and grabbing your arm to drag your hand out and he brings your hand up to his mouth and slides your fingers into it with a groan.

You whimper at the way his lips wrap around your fingers. “Oh God.” You choke, loving the sinful look in his eyes. “Frankie.” You plead, not vocalizing what you want when your pussy is now dripping with need for him and only him. “Please.” You beg again when he releases your fingers.

“Are you on birth control?” Frankie asks roughly, wanting to know if he needs to go out to his truck to get the condoms out of the glove box. “Because I’m clean, and if you are, you’re going to be bent over your big brother’s table and fucked like the little whore you’re begging to be.” He growls out. “You can’t make a sound. Can’t let anyone know that his friend is burying his cock in your little cunt.”

"Shit. Yes. Yes. I - I'm on the pill and just got tested after my ex." You promise, unable to believe he is going to fuck you. And in your brother's house. You're dripping with anticipation and you reach out to squeeze him through his pants, eyes widening slightly at how thick he is. "Please Frankie. Touch me." You are almost sobbing with need, wanting to be used by him, filled by him.

A quick fuck isn’t what he had imagined when he thought about fucking you, but he was going to take what he could get. Leaning in, his lips crash over yours and his tongue plunges into your mouth for a kiss while he fumbles with his zipper.

You reach up to tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as he pulls his cock out. You reach between you to wrap your fingers around him after removing one hand from his hair, your lips still pressed together and you need him to be inside of you. You pump him a couple of times, wanting to hear him moan. “God Frankie. You’re - want you inside of me.”

He hisses, twitching in your hand and he bats it away so he can turn you around and bend you over the table. The same table that you sit with your nieces and your brother and Molly and eat. “Fuck.” Hooking his fingers under the band of your leggings and panties, he strips them down and grabs a handful of your ass while he kicks your legs apart. Treating you roughly like you said you wanted and spitting in his hand to smear it over his cock before he lines up and pushes inside you.

You cry out and he slaps his hand over your mouth. “Be quiet.” He hisses, not even allowing you a moment before he is pushing deep inside of you.

“Oh fuck.” You hiss into his palm, muffled as he starts to fuck you. It’s what you needed, his free hand squeezing your hip hard enough to leave bruises and you love how his hips slap against your ass.

“Fuck.” He covers your body, practically laying over you while his cock drills into your tight cunt relentlessly. “This what you needed? To get fucked like the nasty little whore you are?” His words are growled into your ear, through clenched teeth every time that little cunt squeezes him like a vice. You’re better than he ever imagined.

You whine against his palm, nodding as you let him use you. Your legs ache as you shift onto your tiptoes to allow him to go even deeper and he hits something that makes your legs shake. The table scraps a little with each movement but you’re past the point of caring if anyone comes into the kitchen, too obsessed with how he feels ramming into you.

“Knew you would be tight.” Frankie huffs quietly, his other hand letting go of your hip and reaching up to squeeze your breast. “Gonna look so pretty dripping my cum.” He grins and nips your ear when you clench down around him again. “You’re gonna sleep with it inside you, aren’t you?”

You nod against his hand, willing to do whatever this man wants of you. The way he fucks into you, drilling your pussy is making you drip onto the kitchen floor, your eyes closing as you struggle to maintain the last shred of composure you have to stop yourself from screaming. Your legs shake and you are grateful he is pressing you into the table because you could easily collapse from the intensity of the sex. You're so close, his fingers pinch your nipple and it sends you over the edge. You clamp down on him, biting his hand to stop yourself from crying out and alerting the rest of the house to your pleasure.

Frankie groans, almost in pain from how well you are squeezing him. Making him quicken his pace and fuck into you been even harder, the table shaking underneath you. Half dozen more pumps of his cock and he’s driving deep inside, biting down on your shoulder while he spills hot ropes of cum into you.

You pant, enjoying how it feels to have his cum paint your walls. You sigh, relaxing beneath him against the table and you love how he kisses your shoulder after biting your skin. “Thank you.” You murmur after he removes his hand from your mouth. “Sorry for biting your hand.” You chuckle, almost drunk from the pleasure.

He chuckles against your ear, breath warming and panting. “Don’t worry about that, princesa.” He rolls his hips once more before he starts to slowly pull out of you so he doesn’t cause any of the cum to fall out. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Rough sex was one thing, but he doesn’t want to really hurt you. He respects you and cares about you.

“No. No. I loved it. It was just what I needed.” You promise him, shifting to stand up and quickly pull your leggings up to make sure none of his cum escapes. You wobble and he grabs your waist to keep you upright. “I loved that.” You tell him, kissing his jaw.

“Good.” His eyes are soft now, leaning in and kissing your lips once more. “Go to bed now, princesa.” He urges you. “Unless you aren’t tired yet and you want to hang out with me on the couch.” He offers, knowing that he doesn’t want to push you away.

You bite your lip, knowing you should go to bed but you don’t want to. You’ve always had a crush on Frankie and you have always wanted to know more about him, more than what your brother has told you. “I’m not tired yet.” You tell him, walking a little awkward with his cum pooling in your panties as you settle on the sofa he’s supposed to be sleeping on.

Frankie nods and looks over at you, pleased to see the still fucked-drunk look on your face. “Was that what you wanted or do you need more?” He asks. “There’s a lot you could do but it’s- it’s intense.”

Your ears perk up, wondering what he means. “Such as? What - what would you do? I enjoyed that. It’s definitely what I needed. What else would you do? If you have another chance.” You inquire, biting your lip as you think about him fucking you again.

Grinning at your most hopeful expression, he leans in closer. “Well, since you're such an eager little thing, I want to train that gag reflex of yours, hold you on my cock and see all the tears streaming down your face.” He smirks. “Maybe control your breathing with my hand around your throat while I fuck you harder than tonight.”

You inhale sharply, your entire body lighting up despite only just cumming moments ago. Your cunt clenches around nothing, pushing more of his cum out of you. “Oh God. Yes. Yes. I want that. Please sir.” It slips out before you can truly think about it, desperate to be dominated and used, you want him to do all of that and more.

His brow shoots up, surprised that you are into this. Not all women are and it’s something that he doesn’t really think about because he would never pressure anyone into it, but he’s got some kinks of his own. “You gonna let me tie you up? Spank your ass until you can’t sit down?” He bites his lip. “Fuck your ass?”

You couldn’t stop the moan that escapes your lips even if you tried. “Yes. God yes. All of that. Can we - are you sure you want to do this? I know Tom can be - well…he’s a dick and I don’t want you to be worried about him. Let’s - I’m here for another month so we can keep it secret. Between us so he doesn’t kill you but Frankie, I want you. I want you to show me how good sex can be.”

The fact that you’re Tom’s sister kept him from making a move on you before, but you’re also a grown ass woman. “You can always come over to my place.” He offers, looking around the house. “Less people to overhear since it’s just me.” He can’t help but be extremely proud of the fact that you want him and not Benny or Will. Even if Will was currently going through a breakup with his fiancée. “Think about the things you want and come up with your safe words” He tells you. “Hard and soft limits.”

You nod, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Text me. I can try and sneak out from here without Tom knowing. I’ll tell him I’m going shopping or something.” You smile, excited for what satisfaction this could bring. You grin, “I better get to bed before Tom comes out for his water bottle. I’ll talk to you soon, baby.” You wink and stand up, “gotta go wash your cum from inside of me.”

Frankie watches you walk out of the room before he stretches out on the couch and kicks his shoes off. He can’t believe that he got to touch you, that he gets to touch you again. Tom might kick his ass if he ever found out, but it was worth the risk.

The next morning, you enter the kitchen to see Frankie, Tom and Benny having some coffee while Molly rushes around to prepare breakfast. “You want some help?” You ask your sister in law.

She nods, “you can pour the boys some more coffee.” You grab the fresh pot and walk over to the table, serving Tom then Benny and then Frankie. Your eyes meet Frankie’s and you smile at him, trying to not be obvious but you haven’t stopped thinking about how he felt inside of you.

Frankie sends you a small wink, having watched you walk in and he can’t help but grin while he sits in the same spot he had fucked you at. “You’re mighty cheerful this morning.” Benny huffs beside him, looking slightly hungover.

“I drank less than you.” Frankie shrugs and leans over to knock his shoulder into the younger man’s. “Not hungover.”

You smirk and settle down beside Frankie as Molly serves the breakfast, Benny - as usual - digs in to help himself. You snort and Frankie chuckles, making your stomach twist with how fucking attractive he looks wearing the worn cap. “Good sleep on the sofa?” You ask him.

“Slept like a baby.” Frankie tells and Tom chuckles.

“We’re soldiers, we can sleep anywhere.” He boasts. “I ever tell you about the time Fish was sleeping standing up?” He asks, shaking his head. “Son of a bitch had his glasses on and we were convinced he was awake!”

You giggle, “no you didn’t tell me about that.” You watch Frankie roll his eyes.

“I had been up all night and just needed twenty minutes to recharge.”

You imagine all of them during their deployments, realizing how crazy it must’ve gotten. “Plus that good dream you had last night.” Benny pipes up, “moaning and shit. I woke up to get a water and all I heard was a fucking wet dream coming from the sofa.”

Frankie rolls his eyes, huffing. “You were just dreaming shit.” He tells Benny, since he didn’t fuck you on the couch. “Besides,” he nods towards the girls. “There are kids at the table.”

Tom nods in agreement, “and my sister doesn’t need to hear about that shit.”

You roll your eyes at that, “I am not a child.”

Tom scoffs, “you are to me.” You huff, sipping your coffee and knowing that Tom will never stop being the asshole he was born to be. You are intrigued by the news that Frankie seemed to have a wet dream. You’ll ask him about that later.

The rest of breakfast passes relatively easily. Managing to concentrate on his food helps, but there are plenty of brushes of your knees under the table. He groans when he sits back and rubs his stomach. “I’ll help clean up, but then I’ve got to head home.” He tells everyone. “Laundry to do before the work week.”

Tom nods, “alright man.” Frankie stands up, taking his dishes over to the sink and you follow him, looking at him as you wash up, fingers brushing when you hand him the dish soap and you swear your pussy is dripping from the simple touch. Before Frankie leaves, you tell Tom you are going to go to the beach and read. Your eyes flick over to Frankie, hoping he gets your meaning. Your brother nods, telling you to take Molly’s car. “I’ll see you around man.” Tom slaps Frankie on the shoulder as he leaves, Benny leaving alongside him and you step forward to hug Frankie, your entire body lighting up as you try to keep your touch innocent.

“I’ll text you.” You whisper, wanting to see him later.

Frankie squeezes your back, letting you know that he heard you and pulls away. “I’ll see you soon.” He hums, just like he normally does, but he knows it will be very soon. He’s going to go home, jump in the shower and pick up his house to make sure everything is neat for when you come over. Sure that you will end up in bed, he needs to change the sheets.

You watch him drive off in his truck before you rush back inside. Determined to shower and shave and scrub before you head over to his house. You want to look good for him. You also need to write down the soft and hard limits and decide on a safe word - something you haven’t really needed before. After shoving the list into your bag, you text him, asking if you can come over.

You’re ready to go to him, wearing a bikini and coverup to continue your ruse that you’re going to the beach. When he texts back to come over, you tell Tom you’re going to the beach and he tells you to text him once you’re there and you roll your eyes but agree to text him. “I’m not a kid.” You huff and he snorts, “you are to me.” With a shake of your head, you leave the house and make your way over to Frankie’s.

Dressed in just a pair of jeans, Frankie rolls his eyes at himself. Telling himself that this isn’t 50 Shades of Grey and changes into a pair of sweats, keeping his feet and chest bare. He’d fucked you without doing much more than baring his cock and this time he was going to see every inch of you. His dick twitches in anticipation and it’s kind of a rush to sneak around with you. His house is picked up, not that it was that dirty to begin with, Army training didn’t allow for that. Waiting and already starting to harden at what he was going to do to you today.

You pull up outside of Frankie’s, texting Tom to tell him you’re at the beach, then you get out of the car and head towards Frankie’s front door. Your heart is pounding in anticipation, the list in your purse, and you are excited for what is gonna happen. When Frankie opens the door, you inhale sharply at the sight of his bare chest. Littered with healed wounds and scars, you want to reach out and touch but he steps aside to let you in before you can make a move. “Hey hermosa. Come in.”

When you’re inside, you take the list out of your purse, holding it out to him. “I wrote everything down.”

Frankie takes the list and waves you towards the couch. You look sexy in the little cover up that shows your bikini underneath but he needs to talk to you before he makes you strip down. “Good. We need to talk about the ground rules before we go any farther.” He sits down and doesn’t open the paper yet. “First, while you are fucking me - you aren’t fucking anyone else.” He narrows his eyes. “I don’t share. And I promise you that I won’t be fucking anyone else either. I don’t do that shit.”

You nod, “no one else. I don’t want to have anyone else fucking me except you.” You promise, knowing that anyone else would be disappointing when compared to Frankie. You eye the paper in his hand, hoping he’s okay with your limits. You don’t want to be fisted or any water sports. You draw the line at scat. And no knife play. You did your research.

You nod, flustered as you think of another safe word until it hits you. “Strawberry. I love strawberries.” You tell him, wiping your hands on your cover up as anticipation lights up your entire body. “As for the stop light system. Red is stop? Green is good?” You ask, new to all of this but fuck if you aren’t already dripping with need for him.

Smirking, he nods at you. “Another thing…..” he licks his lips and his eyes drop down to your mouth. “When you're restrained and your mouth is full, blink three times fast and I’ll check in with you.” He definitely dreamed about that last night - that was what Benny heard when he was on the couch.

You unconsciously do the action and he nods in appreciation, his cock already hard in anticipation. He shifts closer, his mouth nearly touching yours when you pull back. “One last thing…Tom can never find out. He would kill us both.” You tell Frankie who scoffs.

“I’d be buried six feet under before you, hermosa. Trust me, he can’t find out.”

You hum in agreement and lean closer, “now kiss me Morales.”

You moan into his mouth, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging in an effort to rile him up. His hands grab your ass and you love it. You love how he is manhandling you already, his fingers digging into your flesh to pull you even closer, his hard cock pressed against your bikini bottoms.

“Fuck.” He had meant to get you on your knees, try out that mouth that he’s dreamed about. But right now, you’re in his arms and you're wearing too many goddamn clothes. Pulling away, he drags the cover over your head and tosses it aside. Not bothering to do more than yank your bikini top down so he can cup your tits and dive into them, greedily wrapping his lips around one nipple.

“Oh shit Frankie.” You cry out, cupping the back of his head as he bites down on your nipple, hard enough to make you gasp. He smirks against your flesh and switches to the other tit, his hands roughly kneading them both as he bites and sucks. “Fuck. Let me - I want to - to suck your cock. Please.” You beg, wanting to please him.

Frankie growls, pulling off your nipple with a harsh pop and he lowers his hand to smack your ass. “Take your fucking bottoms off.” He orders as you scramble off his lap. “I want to see if your cunt will drip onto the floor while my cock’s down your throat.”

You whimper and tug on the strings that keep the bottoms on your body. You toss them aside, loving the way his dark eyes trail down your body, fixing on the curls between your thighs, and you shift to kneel in front of him, reaching for the band of his sweatpants so you can take his hard cock out. When you see him, you moan, mouth practically watering. You didn’t get to see him last night, just felt him, and in the daylight, you can appreciate the beautifully cut head along with the veins that run along his length. “God.” You exhale, wrapping your fingers around his girth and you shuffle closer so you can flick your tongue to gather up the drop of pre-cum that has gathered.

There’s plenty of porn centering around getting your dick sucked or the friend’s sister, but you blown them out of the fucking water. Immediately his hand is on the top of your head, wanting to press you down onto his length but he doesn’t. Not yet. Instead he just rests it there and watches and you explore his cock. Grunting when you press your tongue against the slit. “You like it?” He asks gruffly. “You seemed to like it when it was buried in that tight little cunt of yours.”

You moan, kitten licking the tip before you look up at him. “Your cock is beautiful. God, it felt so good inside of me. Want it down my throat.” You smirk until you are wrapping your lips around the head, closing your eyes as you take him into your mouth.

“Eyes open.” Frankie orders you sharply, smirking when your eyes pop open instantly. “Good girl.” Your moan around his cock makes it twitch. “Want to see your eyes water when you reach the end of my cock, because you’re going to take it all, aren’t you? Like the good little cock slut you are.” You had put down that you wanted to be called names, and whore and slut were at the top of the list. So he was going to give you what you wanted.

His words ignite the fire inside of you, making you drip onto his floor at how fucking hot the derogatory names are coming from his lips. You keep your eyes open, working his cock deeper until you are gagging around his thick length. “Try again.” He orders, pushing you down. You inhale through your nose, his cock pressing down your throat and you concentrate on taking it, wanting to please him. When you feel like you’re not going to be sick, you take him even deeper. Eyes now watering from the effort but you daren’t close your eyes.

He groans at the way your mouth feels. The soft palate and your tongue rubbing him combined with the soft sucks makes him eager to fill your mouth. He’s gonna cum down your throat, then he’s going to see how wet you are and tease you until he is ready to fuck you again. “Fuck yes.” He grunts. “Suck it baby. Show me how good you are.”

His request spurs you on and you move faster, your throat aching as you take him down your throat again and again. Your hand comes up to fondle his balls, feeling the way they tighten and you know he's close. Your eyes continue to water, trying not to blink rapidly since you don't want him to stop you. You want him to cum. You need him to cum.

Frankie groans out your name. “Shit, I’m gonna cum.” He warns you, right before the first salty burst of cum hits your tongue. Moaning again, he continues to cum, pumping ropes of his seed into your mouth while you struggle to swallow it all down.

You gulp it down but a few errant drops drip down your chin, keeping your eyes open to watch him as he cums and your pussy drips onto his floor. He is intoxicatingly beautiful when he cums. You didn't get to see it last night but he's gorgeous and you want to do this again and again.

After the last twitch of his cock, Frankie leans forward and scoops up the drops of his cum off your chin while you pull his cock out of your mouth. “Clean it up.” He tells you, offering his finger out for you to clean off and smirking when you do it without hesitation. “Now get up on the sofa and spread your legs wide. I want to see how wet you got.”

You are quick to stand up and sit down on the sofa, spreading your legs for him without hesitation. You are desperate for him to touch you, however he wants. You just need something. You know you’re dripping and he is going to know when you eagerly spend your thighs for him.

“Look at you.” He coos, hands immediately gripping your thighs and he pushes them farther apart. “Soaked from sucking my cock. You really are a perfect little whore.” Letting go of one thigh, he slides his fingers into your folds and starts to rub your clit. “Too bad you wore a bikini today.” He muses. “I would bend you over my knee to see if spanking you would get you as wet. But we can’t risk your brother seeing the welts I’m going to put on your ass.”

“Next time.” You pant when he rubs your clit, and you close your eyes when your entire body burns with need for him.

“Look at me.” He orders and slaps your pussy, making a loud moan escape your lips.

Fuck, you loved that. His fingers hit your clit again and you whine. “Please Frankie. Sir, I need - I need to cum.”

The way your hips buck against his face is instant and his free hand presses against your stomach to keep you still while he flicks his tongue over your clit. Your chest heaves as you stare down at him. “Fuck Frankie. Feels so good.” You love the way he seems to be ravenous for your pussy.

He licks and sucks on you like a man enjoying his favorite treat, because you are delicious. His fingers squelch, buried knuckle deep and he chuckles around your clit when he finds your g-spot and you squeal his name. Making sure that he keeps pressing against it with every flick of his wrist while he watches your face.

You can’t do anything but slump against his sofa, panting his name over and over as he works you towards an orgasm. He is an expert, having quickly learned your body and you are so close to cumming. “Shit Frankie. I’m gonna - I’m gonna - oh fuck!” You squeal, thighs clamping down on his head as you soak his fingers.

Groaning, Frankie pulls his fingers out of your cunt and replaces them with his tongue. Drinking you down just like you had drunk him. Lapping at your release until you stop quivering around his tongue and he takes one last swipe at your clit before he smirks up at you. “That good enough for now? Until I’m ready to fuck you again?”

You nod, relaxing back into his sofa, heart pounding as you come down from your orgasm and you watch him as he settles down beside you. “None of my exes made me cum through oral before.” You admit, biting your lip as you lean your head against the back of the couch.

“What?” He shakes his head in disgust. “That’s pathetic.” His hand is on your thigh, his fingers caressing your skin softly. “I’m sorry you were with such douches, but I promise that you won’t ever not cum unless it’s a punishment.” He smirks. “Then it just makes the next orgasm better.”

You grin, excited to truly see what he has to offer you. This is what you want, to be dominated and fucked hard but you enjoy these softer moments you and Frankie have had. His hand caresses your thigh and you are curious. “Were you like this with your exes? Dominant?”

“When they wanted me to be.” Frankie gives a small shrug. “I guess I’m a bit of a switch? I don’t care who’s in charge. It doesn’t have to be me. But I don’t mind being dominant.” It’s not something that he’s really talked about with a lot of women, just naturally falling into a pattern.

You smile, reaching out to run your fingers through his hair before you tug on it. “Maybe one day you can let me dominate you. I would like to try it. I’m open. I just want to try everything. My exes were so vanilla and I want something different. To feel things I haven’t felt before.”

Frank hisses, his cock twitching. “I would let you.” He admits with a grin. “I like a little bit of pain with my pleasure, too.” His fingers dig into the meat of your thigh and then he rubs it as if to soothe away the hard touch.

You smirk, leaning in to kiss along his neck as you reach down to caress his thigh. You want him again, want to feel him inside of you again, and you know you will want to keep feeling him. You whimper his name against his neck, nipping his ear. “I want you to do what you want to me.”

Frankie growls softly, his cock hardening again and he can’t believe that he gets to fuck you. He knows that you want more than just a traditional fuck but he wants to see your face. Last night he didn’t get to. “I’m going to tie you to my bed.” He decides. “Put your legs up and fold you in half. See if you’re a squirter.”

You whimper, nodding in agreement at his proposal to tie you up and you shift closer to press your lips to his, wanting to slide your tongue into his mouth and see how he reacts. "Fuck me." You breathe against his lips, wanting him to make the first move.

Frankie groans, immediately kissing you again. You are already naked so he doesn’t have to strip you down. Lunging to his feet, he captures both of your wrists and drags you up off the couch, pinning them behind your back. “Walk.” He tells you, keeping your wrists in his while walking you like he would a prisoner.

You let him guide you to his bedroom, your entire body on fire with anticipation as he shoves you into his bedroom. “Lay down on the bed. Do not touch yourself.” He orders then starts to search for his silk ties. “Yes sir.” You reply breathlessly, spreading your legs for him.

Grinning at the eagerness in your voice, he’s coming back over with the ties quickly. Knotting them around the bed and then around your wrists with the skill of a man who has tied many ropes, soon you are helpless. Making his cock twitch at the sight of you spread out on his bed.

You’re dripping onto his sheets, unable to believe how hot it is to be restrained like this. You’re eager to be touched by him, let him do what he wants to your body. “Frankie. Please. Touch me.” You whine, pulling slightly in the ties as you ache for something instead of him standing at the foot of the bed looking down at you.

Chuckling darkly, Frankie pulls his sweats down, kicking them off and kneeling on the bed. “Patience.” He orders, slapping the inside of your thigh sharply and pushing your thighs apart and hooking them up on his shoulders. “Look at you.” He huffs. “Shameless. Begging to get fucked. Greedy cunt begging for my cock.”

You whimper, wishing you could touch him but loving that you can’t. “I’m your whore. This is your cunt. Ready for you to fuck whenever you want.” You promise, bucking against air as you try to get closer to the cock that is so near where you need him.

“Dirty girl.” He slaps his fingers against your pussy and chuckles again when you moan. “I’ll give you what you need.” He promises, taking himself in hand and starting to line up so he can sink into you. “I want you to take every inch like a good girl.”

You gasp when he pushes into you, practically folding you in half as he pushes his cock into you inch by inch so you feel every vein and ridge. “Oh fuck, Frankie.” You whimper, closing your eyes.

Gripping your chin, he squeezes your jaw. “Keep your eyes on me, beautiful.” He growls out. “Want to see those eyes when I make you cum.” He knows you won’t be able to help yourself, but the way you clench around his cock tells him that you like it.

"Y-Yes sir." You pant and he begins to rock his hips, hitting deep inside of you to a place no one has found before. "Shit Frankie. That - that feels good." You keep your eyes on him, loving his clenched jaw and the dark look in his eyes as he looms over you. "So sexy." You comment, unable to stop yourself.

His hips piston forward and back, driving into you again and again as he grunts. “Fuck you’re tight.” He hisses, loving the way you squeeze his cock as he bottoms out. His hand slides down from your jaw to loosely hold your throat. Watching your eyes widen and your breath catch when he flexes his fingers.

He waits for a moment to see if you are going to say your safe word but when you don't, he squeezes a little tighter. You gush around his cock, your entire body reacting to the motion. It's what you need, what you want. Your moan is choked and it's beautiful as it echoes in his bedroom. His cock still moving inside of you and your eyes roll into the back of your head as you allow yourself to enjoy this rough treatment.

“Fuck, you like it.” Frankie huffs out, thrilled that he can give this to you. His hips slap against your ass, his pace getting rougher and his thrusts harder as he fills you. Making sure that his hand tightens when his cock is buried inside your hot, dripping cunt.

You moan, “lo- love it.” You choke and he chuckles, continuing to fuck you hard. Your nails dig into your palms, wishing you could touch him but also loving that you can’t. Your cunt grips his cock and you are so close. His pelvis is just rubbing against your clit and he’s hitting something that makes your calves shake beside his head.

“You’re gonna cum.” He can tell by the way your entire body tenses. Your walls are starting to flutter around him. “You can’t help it, all you can do is take it. To let me use you.” Leaning forward, he pushes your legs back further and changes the angle again.

“Oh fuck!” You squeal at the new angle. Loving how he is hitting something devastating and you’re so close. His hand squeezes your throat and you’re done. It’s like a blackout. Pleasure blinding you as you struggle to keep your eyes on him and you grip his cock while gushing, squirting onto his stomach and balls in a feeling you’ve never experienced before.

“Shit, shit, shit.” He hisses at the slick slapping of skin now that he’s made you soak him and the bed. Utterly wrecked by the way you feel and the way you look when you cum. Four, five more thrusts and he’s groaning, pulling out of you so he can spurt his seed all over your cunt and chest as he keeps you folded over.

You watch him as he cums, chest heaving and it’s fucking beautiful. His hand off of your throat as he works his cock of every drop to paint your skin and you wish you could lean forward and wrap your lips around the head. “Fuck that was - oh God. I don’t - I don’t think I can talk.” You chuckle breathlessly.

“Good.” Frankie grunts as he looks down at the mess on your skin. “Fuck, you soaked the bed.” He lets go of his cock to caress your calf. “How did it feel?” He asks. “Too much pressure, not enough? Anytime you want something to change, you tell me.”

You smile, almost drunkenly, "it was perfect. I loved it. It's what I wanted." You promise, wishing you could reach down and scoop up the cum drying on your skin but you can't. "You just - wow. I have never had a man make me cum like that." You close your eyes, ready for a nap but you know you need to be getting back to Tom's before he starts calling.

Frankie lowers your legs and reaches up to untie your hands so you are free. “Lay there.” He murmurs. “I’ll get you cleaned up.” As much as you will probably protest, it's his job to look after you while the two of you are doing this. Leaning down, he presses his lips softly to yours. “Relax, I’ll be right back.”

You sigh, relaxing into his bed and you want to sleep, cuddle with him for a while and you wonder if Tom will notice if you’re gone for another hour. Maybe not. When Frankie comes back in to clean you up, you smile at him and he kisses you once more before he hands one of his t-shirts to you to wear. “I’ll get you some water too and a snack.” He says as he walks out of his bedroom, wearing his boxers. It’s hard to not think about being with Frankie when you’re in the aftermath of your orgasms, imagining being with him, dating him. It would be too easy but there’s no way Tom would ever allow it.

Frankie grabs you a bottle of water and a granola bar, one of the ones that he loves and brings it back to you. When he comes back, you’ve moved out of the wet spot and are wearing his shirt, making him grin. “You look comfy.” He tells you as he walks over and sits down beside you. “Exactly what a relaxing day on the beach would be like.” He knows you should be good for another hour before Tom starts looking for you. “We can even sneak in a nap.”

You smile, taking the water bottle and you take a few gulps, suddenly thirsty, and you set it down on his nightstand before opening the granola bar. “Oh I love these.” You say, looking at the packaging. “Tom hopefully won’t be calling me for a bit to chase me up. Honestly, you’d think I was a teenager with the way he’s up my ass all the time.” You roll your eyes and take a bite of the bar.

Snorting, Frankie shakes his head. “He’s just looking out for you.” He promises, stretching out beside you. “He told me that the day that you were adopted, you were scared. That he was twelve, thirteen at the time? He said he promised you that you didn’t have to be scared. He was always going to protect you.” Tom can be a dick, everyone knows that, but he’s also loyal to those he loves. “He still sees you as that scared two year old who clung to him.”

You swallow your bite and absorb Frankie’s words. Tom has never told you that. You’ve always been kinda close but when he became a teenager and then went into the army, you grew apart due to your age gap and you’ve never really understood each other since. “I know he’s trying to protect me but I am a grown woman.” You sigh, setting the bar down on his nightstand then you snuggle into his pillow. “I just - I just wish he would trust me to make good choices.”

Frankie chuckles, “and I’m a good choice?”

You grin, shifting closer to kiss his lips, “the best choice.”

“Well, hopefully he will relax a little.” Frankie offers, knowing that won’t happen anytime soon. “You should stop letting him dictate when you go out or how long you are gone.” He gives a small shrug. “If he tries to be a dick about it, tell him you’ll stay somewhere else.”

You snort, “oh I’m sure he would allow that. He would probably track me down and tell the hotel owner or whoever that I can’t stay there. He’d get me back in his house at some point. I think he only just realized I'm not a virgin. I love him, he’s my big brother, but God - I just - I need space.” You sigh, cuddling into Frankie’s chest and you inhale that woodsy scent of his shower gel. “Thank you for today. It was amazing.” You close your eyes, suddenly exhausted.

Frankie drapes his arm over your back and strokes your spine. “You’ve got space here.” He promises, knowing that he will let you come over whenever you want. You hum and snuggle into him, body starting to relax as you fall asleep. This is dangerous, getting involved with you, but he can’t help but look forward to you coming over again, not just for the sex either.

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been asleep but you are woken up to your cell phone ringing. You immediately sit up, knowing that ringtone. It’s Tom. You shift away from a sleeping Frankie who was woken up by your sudden movement and you rush into the living room to get your purse, grabbing the phone to answer it. “Hey Tom.” You pant slightly.

Tom says your name and you know you’re in trouble. “You’re not home. You said a couple of hours. It’s been five and it looks like it’s gonna rain.”

You bite your lip, “I lost track of time. Ended up napping under the umbrella. I’ll come home now.” You tell him and Tom says, “see you soon.” You sigh, hanging up and staring at the phone for a moment.

Frankie comes out a moment later, “Tom?” He guesses and you nod.

“I gotta go.” You grab your bikini, quickly changing back into it and tugging on your coverup. You walk over to Frankie, “thank you.” You kiss him, reluctant to leave but you know Tom will be calling again soon.

Frankie nods, squeezing your hip. He wants to tell you to text him when you get home, but he doesn’t want you to feel like you have another parental figure breathing down your throat. “Next time I’ll feed you more than a granola bar.” He picks up your bathing suit cover and turns it right side out to hand to you.

You quickly put it on and grab your purse, kissing Frankie one last time before you leave, getting into the car and making your way back to Tom’s, praying he isn’t suspicious. You want to see Frankie again. “What took so long?” Tom asks as you enter the house.

“I told you, I fell asleep.” You look over to Molly who shakes her head at her husband, “she is a grown woman Tom. Leave her alone.” Tom listens to his wife, narrowing his eyes slightly and you huff,

“I’m going to shower.” You walk into the guest bathroom and smile to yourself as you clean up. Once you’re dressed again, you text Frankie. “I’m home. Had such a good time. Are you free tomorrow?”

Frankie grins when he gets your text. “For you, totally available.” He pauses and decides to add onto it. “Almost told you to text me but didn’t want to be like Redfly. What do you want to do tomorrow? 😈”

You smirk, quickly typing a reply before you decide to send him the porno you were watching the other week. “This is what I want to do.” You hit send and bite your lip as you wait for his response. You loved that video. The woman was spanked, edged and finally, fucked in the ass. You want that.

Watching the video, Frankie hisses, definitely turned on by the idea of doing those things to you. His response is quick. “Wear pants and make sure your brother doesn’t expect you home anytime soon.” He hits send and gets up to make sure he’s got lube in his bathroom. Otherwise he will need to make a trip to the store to get some things.

The next morning, you are practically vibrating with anticipation. You have cleaned up and are ready to head over to Frankie’s. You texted him to arrange to meet before lunch because you know Tom will have his real estate class today. He will be there all day so you will have time to be at Frankie’s. “Okay Mol, I’m gonna go to the mall.” You tell her and she calls out goodbye, working on cleaning the house. You tap your fingers on the steering wheel as you make your way to Frankie’s.

Everything is ready and waiting, he chuckles at himself, willing to admit that he might have gone overboard at the toy store. He didn’t have the lube, so he had to go out. While he was going, he decided to pick up a paddle and a wand to use on you. Knowing that it’s much more fun when he has help driving you crazy.

Besides, the black leather paddle has a cut out of a heart and those welts will look gorgeous on your skin. Plus the collar he had found would feed into those ‘being used’ fantasies that you had. He smirks at the thought of using the metal ring and dragging you closer to him. Walking out of the bedroom into his kitchen to grab a beer, waiting for you to show up.

You exhale shakily as you get out of the car, the butt plug you put in earlier that was stowed in your suitcase along with the dildo makes you move a little awkwardly but you wanted to surprise Frankie and also be prepared. You adjust your purse after ringing the doorbell, waiting for him to answer and when he does, your heart skips a beat. “Hey.” You greet him, shifting closer so you can peck his lips.

“Hey.” Frankie grins and pulls you closer, not allowing that stingy kiss to pass muster. He slides his tongue into your mouth and pushes you up against the doorframe to press his body against yours. “Are you ready, baby?” He asks when he pulls away, satisfied when you look slightly dazed.

You nod, caressing his chest until you can slide your hands under his t-shirt, touching his tummy. “I'm ready.” You tell him, kissing his neck, and you slide your hand down to his crotch. “Ready for this cock, sir.”

Laughing, he grabs your hand and shakes his head. “Un uh baby. First you need to be spanked.” He smirks. “Sneaking around and fucking your brother’s friend. Being such a little whore.” He guides you inside the house and shuts the door. “Want to spank you until you are crying, maybe even finger you while I do it. Or use the toy I bought.”

You can't stop the whimper that escapes your lips as you let him guide you into his house and you kick your shoes off. “You can do whatever you want. I have my safe word. Please baby. Fuck me. Do what you want to me.”

Smirking, Frankie slaps your ass playfully. “I thought that’s what you came over here for?” He teases with a small chuckle. He turns around and lifts a brow. “I want you to strip for me. Give me a little show.” He decides as he sits back down and spreads his legs wide as he gets comfortable.

You watch him sit down and you grin, deciding to tease him a little. You turn your back to him so he can see your ass and you wiggle it, reaching down for the hem of your shirt, slowly pulling it up and lowering it down for a moment, shaking your ass again until you pull your shirt over your head, exposing the black lace bra you picked out for him. You toss the shirt down, spinning to show him your cleavage and you lean forward towards him, hands on his knees. You smirk and shift to stand up, reaching for the button to undo it and you pull the zipper down, pushing your pants down to expose the matching panties.

“Damn.” Whistling through his teeth, he admires the lingerie. “You dressed up for me.” Reaching out, he trails a finger along the curve of your ass with a grin. “You shouldn’t have.” He coos, playfully. “Maybe you just wanted to feel sexy, but you should always feel sexy, baby.” His cock definitely likes the little outfit you had put on for him, twitching in his jeans eagerly. He had been looking forward to this all morning.

You giggle, “oh I wanted to see that look on your face.” You look at him over your shoulder, enjoying the flustered and lusty stare he gives you. You reach up to undo your bra, turning so he can see your tits as you expose them, and you hook your fingers in your panties, pushing them down to show him your curls then turn around, bending over to display the plug nestled in your ass.

“Fucking hell.” His eyes blowing wide with surprise, he reaches out and touches the end of the plug with a groan. “Oh fuck baby, you’re pretty with this plug in your ass.” He grips it and gives it a small tug, making you moan. “Does it feel good? Do you want to be spanked with it still in your ass?”

You love how much he loves it. “Yes. God yes. Can I-? I want to straddle you.” You tell him and he nods, playfully slapping your ass until you turn around and you straddle his lap. You immediately press your lips to his, needing to touch him.

He lets you lead the kiss right now. He will take over when he needs to, but this is also about your exploration of all manner of sexual things. It includes giving you a little bit of control as well. Besides, he likes the way you are tangling your fingers into his now non-regulation haircut and grinding down on his hardening cock.

You slide your tongue against his, tugging on his hair, and you love how he lets you take over for the moment. You pull back after a moment, looking into his nearly black eyes. “I’ve been a very bad girl.” You admit, “I touched myself last night thinking of you spanking me.”

Frankie growls, reaching down and gripping both of your ass cheeks and pulling them apart as he gropes them. “You shouldn’t have done that.” He huffs, even though he doesn’t actually mind. “Did you make yourself cum?” His eyes narrow when you nod. “I’m going to have to punish you for that.”

You love that he’s playing along and you pout, continuing the act. “I'm sorry sir. I know this pussy belongs to you but I - I just needed to cum.” You squeal when he grabs your waist and flips you so you are laying across his lap, your heart thumping with anticipation until the first smack of his hand hits your ass. You bite your lip to smother your moan, loving the sting.

He rubs your ass and makes sure that he moves your plug slowly. You whimper and he clicks his tongue in disappointment. “Count.” He orders you, lifting his hand up and bringing it back down on your ass sharply.

Your gasped one makes him chuckle. You shift on his lap, both loving and hating the sting. His hand comes down onto your ass again. “Two.” You whimper, fingers curling into the edge of his sofa. Smack. “Three.” Smack. “Four.” Smack. “Five.” You’re breathless and dripping. “Fuck Frankie.”

“Spread your slutty little thighs.” Frankie orders, dipping his fingers down to feel the slick arousal that is dripping out of your cunt and sliding down to your clit. “Someone’s excited.” He coos, rubbing your clit harshly a few times. “I bought you a wand when I was picking up lube.”

You moan at the way his calloused fingers rub your clit so well. “Yeah?” You pant, “you gonna - you gonna use it on me?” You ask, desperate for more as you grind back onto his fingers with a soft moan of his bake.

“Thinking about it.” He admits before he pulls his hand away and spanks you again, a touch more force behind this one.

“Fuck, Frankie!” You cry out, not expecting the next lick.

“Count.” He reminds you.

“Fiv- no six.” You gasp. “It was six.”

Frankie hums and picks up the wand. “Good girl.”

You hear the vibrations from behind and close your eyes in anticipation. When the wand presses against your clit, you squeal. “Stay still.” Frankie growls, smacking your ass cheek with his free hand. You struggle to remain still as the toy vibrates deliciously against your clit.

He loves the way that you moan for him, your hips rocking back slightly against the toy. He presses his hand against your ass before he gives you another swat, watching your ass cheeks tense and the plug disappearing under the lace as you clench them together briefly. “Keep your legs apart.”

You struggle but obey his order, whimpering as you get closer and closer to cumming. “Oh fuck. It feels so good. Oh shit. You’re gonna make me cum.” You moan and all of a sudden, the vibrations stop. You cant withhold the whine of protest that escapes your lips as you grind back onto the now motionless toy. “Frankie. Please.”

He chuckles again. “You wanted to be edged.” He reminds you, setting the wand down and smacking your ass again. You cry out and he rubs the spot before he smacks it again. “I have a paddle I’m going to use.” He tells you, reaching for the paddle so he can show you it.

Your eyes widen at the sight of the paddle, the heart cut out making your pussy drip as you imagine that welt staying on your skin long after you’ve left his home. “Do it.” You order, wanting to see how it feels compared to his hand.

“So bossy.” He teases before he draws his hand back and brings the paddle down on your ass. The sharp sound echoes through the bedroom and he can’t help but twitch underneath you at how your skin shivers and breaks out in goosebumps.

You cry out, the sting harder than his hand but fuck, its so good. So damn good. “Oh shit Frankie.” You hiss and he pauses, waiting for your safe word.

“Green?” He asks.

“Green. Fuck, Green. Do it again.” You plead, loving the pain that the paddle brings.

Again and again the paddle comes down on your ass. Pausing momentarily to soothe the sting and check in to make sure that you still want more. Placing heart shapes all over the curve of your ass. Humming at how well you are doing until he pauses again and picks up the wand. “You’re doing so good.” He coos. “Have you learned your lesson about touching that pussy without my permission?”

"Yes sir. Never- never touch it without your permission. It's yours." You promise, gasping when he presses the wand to your clit. You're certain you've dripped onto his jeans, unable to help yourself with how fucking hot this has been so far. Your wildest dreams come true. "Yes. Yes. Can I - please can I come?"

Frankie chuckles, shifting the wand so he can pick up the paddle. “You’re going to cum while I spank you. Aren’t you, you dirty girl.” He slaps the paddle down on your ass. “Cum.”

You can't deny him, the wand combined with the pain from the paddle sends you over the edge and you cry his name as you cum. Soaking his jeans from how worked up you were from the edging and from the spanking.

“Jesus.” Frankie sets the paddle down and caresses your ass, feeling the welts and heat from the spanking. “You did so good, baby.” The wand is still against your clit, helping you ride out your high while you buck across his thighs.

You try to get away from the wand when it becomes too much, a whimper escaping your lips as you try to shift away from his lap to stop the stimulation. When he takes pity and moves the wand away, you slump down onto his lap. "Fuck. That was - I don't know if I'll be able to sit down for a week." You joke.

He chuckles and continues to caress your ass. He’s throbbing in his jeans but if you are done, he will ignore it. “I have some aloe cream to rub into your skin.” He murmurs softly. While he loves the way you react, he doesn’t want you to be too uncomfortable.

You nod, finally catching your breath and you shift to straddle him, pressing your lips to his and the rough denim of his jeans scrapes your ass but you want more. You're greedy and unable to deny it. "I want you to fuck my ass next." You murmur, kissing along his jaw."On my stomach. Want you to admire your handiwork as you fuck me." You tell him, pressing your lips to his again. "Want you to ruin me, Francisco." You murmur, pulling back to look into those dark eyes you can't seem to get out of your mind.

He pats your hip and nods. “Get out of your panties and lay on your stomach baby. I want to see that plug in your ass.” When you move off of him, he stands and strips his own clothes off quickly, smirking at the large wet spot on his thighs and his cock bobs heavily when he’s naked. “Gonna stretch you out around my fingers first.”

You shove your panties down and shift to lay down on the sofa, heart pumping in anticipation for him touching you some more. You can't wait to feel his fingers inside of you. You turn your head as he looms over you, still handing, and you lean forward to wrap your lips around his leaking head, pressing your tongue against the slit to taste his pre-cum.

“Shit.” He hisses softly, eyes drifting closed as he lets you take him into your mouth. “Had fucking dreams about that fucking mouth of yours.” He pants before he rocks his hips back. “But right now, I want your ass.” He shuffles behind you and straddles your thighs. “Have you every had anyone fuck you in the ass?”

You shake your head, sighing as he rubs your ass. “No one. None of my exes wanted to go through the prep. Wanted to just slide their cock inside without any work to open me up. I wouldn’t let them do that.” You tell him, realizing that your exes were truly inadequate.

Frankie tuts and shakes his head. “I can’t say that I’m disappointed.” He admits, letting go of you so he can apply some lube to his fingers before he pulls the plug out. “I like the idea of claiming you like no one else has.” He grips the flared end of the plug and twists it slightly to make you moan before he tugs it out of you gently.

You gasp when his fingers replace the plug, slowly pushing one then two inside of you to work on stretching you out. “Oh fuck. That feels good.” You admit, arching your back. “My ass is yours baby. Yours to-to take.” You promise, wanting it to be him.

He knows some people try to rush prep for anal, but that’s not him. Slowly working his fingers in and out of you and scissoring them inside you to make sure you can take him easier. Caressing your spine and ass while he does. It’s another type of anticipation for him, putting in the work to get the reward. “I’m going to.” He promises you. “Gonna fill up your ass. See if you can cum like this. See if you love having your ass fucked. You will. You’re so cock hungry, you’ll love it.”

His words make you moan and you let him finger you, opening you up until he is satisfied that you're ready. When you hear the click of him opening the lube bottle, your whimper of anticipation makes him chuckle as he squirts the lube onto your puckered hole after withdrawing his fingers.

“Let me know if I need to stop.” He doesn’t want to just thrust into you, knowing he would hurt you if he did that. Instead, he slicks up his cock and shuffles forward to press against the hole he wants to be in. Moaning slightly when he feels the resistance give and the head slips inside. “Just breathe.” He cautions as he starts to rock his hips slowly.

You grip the edge of the sofa, ready to feel him inside of you and when he pushes deeper, you breathe deep, exhaling after a moment. "Fuck. That - that feels different. Good different." You add, not wanting him to pull out. He had stretched you a lot but there's still a sting as he pushes deeper.

His hand slides up and down your spine, trying to soothe you. “Good.” He huffs, loving how tightly you squeeze his cock. “I’ll go slow. Tell me if you need a moment.” He’s already aware that he’s got a cock that plenty of women wouldn’t let near their ass, but he doesn’t want you to hate this, especially when you wanted to explore this.

You exhale, trying to take him and you love how slow he is going, steadily rocking his hips back and forth to work himself deeper inside of you until you can take every inch. When he’s deep inside of you, you close your eyes and enjoy the moment, practically dripping onto the sofa below you as he leans over to kiss along your neck. “I’m good.” You promise, reaching behind you to run your fingers through his hair.

Frankie closes his eyes and moans quietly, loving the softness in your touch. He doesn’t mind it, loves it actually, even if you want to be ‘wrecked’. He pulls back and withdrawals almost completely before pushing back in smoothly until his thighs hit your ass.

“Oh shit.” You moan, back arching as he begins a slow but steady pace, making you whimper and grind back onto him as you get used to his length. “God. This feels so good. Weird but good.” You comment and he chuckles.

“I know. You like it?” He asks.

“Yes. Yes. Oh!” You gasp when his hand slaps your sore ass, mixing pleasure and pain in the most delicious way.

Frankie chuckles and watches his cock move in and out of you. “Knew you would love it.” He pants out. “Now I need to fulfill my promise to you.” He flattens himself across your back and whispers in your ear. “I’m going to wreck you, baby.”

“Yes. Yes. Do it.” You plead, grinding back onto his cock that sinks so deep inside of you. “Shit.” You reach back to tangle your fingers in his hair, wanting to spur him on. “Oh fuck!” You squeal when he reacts, his hips slamming against your ass.

He changes his pace. No longer slow thrusts, he rocks his hips into you harshly. The slapping of skin filling the bedroom again. Gripping your hips tight and making sure that he punches a squeal out of you every time he surges back into you.

“Oh my God. Oh my God.” You rush out, nails trying to find purchase on his sofa as he rams into you over and over, making your eyes roll into the back of your head. Each thrust has your clit grinding against the rough leather of his sofa and it's intense. “Frankie. Oh fuck Frankie.”

He moves his hands to your lower back, pushing down to change the angle, ramping up his pace even more. He had been going at about a seven, but now he’s frantic, almost unhinged as he fucks you. Grunting behind you and hissing as he thrusts into you.

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!” You scream, unable to stop yourself as you cum. Your clit is being stimulated just right and your ass squeezes his cock as he pushes into you, making you clamp down around nothing as you cum.

“Fuck.” Frankie hisses, his thrusts faltering and he grinds into you, unable to move as you clench down around him. “God, you’re so good.” He praises breathlessly, pulling you back against his chest and kissing along your neck while he chases his own orgasm.

You cling to his arms that are wrapped around you, unable to do anything other than let him seek his high. He thrusts hard and deep, taking your breath away until he cums. “Fuck. Cum for me Frankie.” You turn your head and kiss his jaw.

Closing his eyes, Frankie follows your order. Burying himself deep, he groans out your name. Filling your ass with hot ropes of his cum in achingly long spurts that steal his breath and making his entire body shake.

You pant, leaning back against his chest as he remains buried deep inside of you, filling you as he allows small rocks to work himself through his orgasm. “Oh God. That was-” You exhale, unsure of what to say as you revel in the pleasure he’s brought you.

“Fucking incredible.” He murmurs in your ear, kissing your skin randomly while he catches his breath. “You’re fucking incredible.” Regret that your Tom’s sister and that you’re not looking for anything serious flashes through him but he pushes it away. “Now I can rub some cream into your skin and we can nap, or I can run you a bath. I have some salts that will help with the soreness.”

“Ooo a bath sounds good.” You hum, “only if you get in it with me.” You smile and kiss his jaw when he kisses your cheek. You wish you could have this man every day but you know Tom would kill you and Frankie if he ever found out about the two of you. He told you he’d never let his brothers be near you because he’s seen how they have been with women in the past. Womanizers. Frankie seems different, he’s sweet and kind and so funny. “And a snack sounds good.” You’re suddenly starving.

“Do you want to order some food?” He asks, squeezing your hip before he slowly starts to pull out of you. Groaning quietly and hating leaving the tight heat of your body. “Have something delivered while we clean up?”

“That sounds good. Pizza?” You suggest, “I’m good with any toppings…just not pineapple.” You whimper when you feel his cock leave your body and his cum starts to drip out of you. “Good thing you have a leather sofa.”

He chuckles and nods. “Easy cleanup.” He helps you off the couch and gathers up the toys. “Come on baby, I’ll set up the bath so you can start soaking and then I’ll order the pizza and get you some water before I get in with you.” He tells you as he guides you back into his bedroom. “And you should, uh, try to push out the cum.” He tells you awkwardly.

You giggle at his awkwardness. “I’ll do that now. I need to use the bathroom.” You kiss his cheek and make your way to his enclosed toilet, shutting the door so you can pee and push his cum out of you.

Frankie starts the bath, dumping in those soothing salts he had been recommended when he was banged up. Setting out a couple of towels and tossing the toys in the sink to be washed after he cleans up himself. “I’m gonna go get some water and order the pizza.” He calls out, striding through his house naked.

You turn off the bath when the water is high enough and you carefully step into the bath just as Frankie walks in with two bottles of water. You sink down, groaning at the hot water and shift forward so he can get in behind you. When he does, you lean back against him, turning your head to kiss his neck. “Thank you for today. Everything really. It’s been - it’s more than I imagined.”

“I’m surprised you picked me.” He admits, sliding his arms around you and stroking your stomach. Enjoying the moment and the inherent softness of sharing a bath. “I expected you to ask Benny, out of the two of us.”

You snort, "Benny? No way. He is too...he would be telling Tom within a day by accident. He's too...gung ho. Plus I think he's a quick pump chump." You admit, biting your lip as you look at Frankie. "Seems a little selfish in the bedroom."

“Nah.” Frankie shakes his head. “Benny’s more dependable than that. I’ve had to listen to him and whatever girl he’s brought back to the barracks before.” He huffs and rolls his eyes. “But I’m gonna be a little proud and say that I’m better.”

You chuckle, rubbing his forearms, "I don't think Benny is as sexy as you. He's hot but you- you have always made me flustered." You confess, "always touched myself to the thought of you at night after seeing you. I knew you would be able to fuck me properly. You have that...understated authority."

“Hmmmm, is that right?” He asks, unable to his smirk as he preens at your compliment. “Well, hopefully I won’t disappoint you.” He slides his hand lower and cups your cunt. “Making sure that you enjoy yourself now. Give you what you want, what you need.”

"You could never disappoint me Frankie. Ever. You are-" You are cut off when his fingers rub your clit. "You know exactly what I need. So good to me. Making me cum. Fucking me just right. Baby...you are too good to me."

He scoffs, continuing to rub your clit. Slowly and gently while you relax in the warm water. If anything you are too good for him. You should have someone better than him between your thighs. And he’s sure that you will, when you go back home. For now though, he’s going to gorge himself on the ability to touch you. “So gorgeous when you cum.” He murmurs, kissing your neck. “Want you to do it again.”

You moan at his words, grinding down onto his fingers and you are so close to begging him to be yours, so close to begging him to let you be his. You know it wouldn't work, Tom would destroy any potential and you know Frankie would listen to Tom over you. Still, you have this for now. You gasp when he pushes two fingers into you, pressing his thumb against your clit. "God, you're gonna make me cum."

Humming against your skin in agreement, Frankie circles your clit again with the pad of his finger. “Want you to cum.” He purrs in your ear, curling his fingers up. He wants you addicted to him, craving his touch. It’s wrong, especially since he knows you don’t want permanent, but he can’t help himself. His other hand cups your tit and he pinches your nipple. “Be a good girl for me.”

His words combined with his touch send you over the edge, softly crying out as you clamp down on his digits. “Frankie.” You gasp, tilting your head back against his shoulder as you soak his fingers.

He loves the way you say his name, sighing in your ear as he works you through the smaller, but no less satisfying orgasm. Pulling his fingers away when you are stiffening so he doesn’t overstimulate you. Not needed after today. This was just to make you soft and blissed out. “So good.” He praises, holding you close while you relax against him.

You turn your head to press your lips against his, feeling his hardening cock behind you. “Let me-” You murmur against his lips, reaching to shift to reach behind you.

He cuts you off with a shake of his head, “no. I’m fine. Just lay here.” He orders, pulling you back into his chest. You sigh, relenting and relaxing into him once more, unsure of how much time has passed since you arrived at his house.

Frankie just relaxes with you in his arms. “The pizza should be here soon.” He tells you softly. “Although, I wish that you didn’t have to worry about leaving.” If you had been anyone else, he would have been making plans to take you to breakfast, but you have a brother that would kill him without thinking twice.

After you've eaten the pizza, you gather your things and stand by Frankie's front door. "I have to go." You sigh, having already texted Tom to say you were on your way home. Frankie wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close to press his lips to yours. "Thank you for today. It was...more than I expected. It was perfect." You kiss his jaw before pressing your lips to his again, reluctant to leave.

You kiss him again, practically dragging yourself away from him as you grab your purse and make your way out of his house, he's not too far behind you, opening the door of your rental car and you sigh when he presses you up against the door, kissing you one last time. "See you around, Morales." You smile as you get into the driver's seat, Frankie closing the door for you. When you drive off, you watch him in the rearview mirror and curse the way your heart already aches.

A week later, having squeezed every moment you can together, Frankie sends you a text. He’s supposed to have today off, but the other pilot had called in sick. “Hey, how do you feel about coming with me to work? I can show you around the hanger 😏 and you can be my co-pilot for the charter I got roped into doing.”

You grin after you open Frankie’s message. You have two weeks left in Florida and you don’t want to waste a moment so you reply back with a “I’ll bring my sexy copilot outfit 😉 What time do you want me at your place?” You hit send, still smiling at the phone.

“Who are you texting that has you smiling like that? Better not be that ex.” Tom huffs, watching you from across the kitchen table.

“My friend sent me a meme.” You roll your eyes and stand up, “I’m gonna go to a coffee shop since I can’t text in peace.” You stand up, glancing down at your phone to see Frankie telling you to come over ASAP so you get changed and head over to his house. When you pull up, he’s already in his driveway and you can’t wait to see him at work. You’ve heard stories of how capable he is and you want to witness it firsthand. “Reporting for duty.” You announce as you walk over to him.

Frankie smirks and leans in to kiss you. “I like your outfit.” His eyes linger on the shorts and tank top you are wearing. “Although you need something to make it more official.” He tosses you the flannel shirt in his hand. “We will only be out a few hours, but I’ve always had a fantasy of having sex in the back of my bird.”

You grin, reaching down to squeeze his ass. “I’m sure we can make that happen.” You shrug on his flannel, enjoying the fact that it smells like him and you get into the passenger side when he opens the door to his truck for you. He slaps your ass when you step up and you playfully smack his hand away, acting like you don’t love it.

“Give me your sunglasses.” You demand with a pout.

“Okay.” He huffs when you reach out and snatch his sunglasses out of his pocket and open them to perch on your own nose. “Look better on you anyway.” He closes your door and rounds the front of the truck to climb in beside you. “Have to do a pre-flight when we get there, so just follow my lead.” He orders as he backs the truck out of the driveway and starts driving towards the air field that is only a couple miles away.

You watch him drive, admiring the way the sun hits his features and he looks so sexy with the window open and the wind ruffling his hair. When he pulls into his parking space, he opens the door to help you out of his truck and you follow his head as he guides you into the building where the charter reception is. “This your girl, Fish?” The receptionist, an older woman, asks Frankie.

“Aww now Diane, everyone knows you’re my girl.” He teases the older woman with a wink and a grin, even as he slides his arm around your back. Introducing you, he looks over at you. “I think that it’s safe to say that this pretty girl is way too good for me, don’t you Diane?”

You fluster, leaning into him as Diane grins at Frankie. “I think she’s just perfect. You look good together. Thanks for covering for Sam. He got some kind of bug.” Diane says. She has worked here for years with the owner who no longer flies. “You wanna go get set up and I’ll let you know when they are here.”

“Roger.” Frankie turns the two of you away from the desk, looking over his shoulder. “She’s going to go up with me.” He lets her know so she doesn’t start to make another pot of coffee or tea, whatever she’s having for the day. Walking down the hall, he guides you to the locker rooms. “I’ve got to get into a flight suit, but you can either wear what you’ve got on or put on an extra one.”

You decide to change into the flight suit, knowing he would like it on you, and you quickly change and come back out, spinning around. "How do I look?" You ask, a teasing smile on your lips.

Frankie’s cock twitches and he whistles quietly. “Too bad we have to work.” He grunts, reaching out and grabbing your ass and hauling you closer for a kiss. “Otherwise I would strip you out of this and show you how much I like it.”

You giggle, sliding your hands along his chest to touch his name on the suit. "After the flight is done and you have done what you need to do, I want to pull your cock out and ride you in the back of your helicopter while you wear this." You look up into those dark brown eyes that burn into yours, always making you feel like you're on fire.

“Fuck, I swear you read minds sometimes.” He hisses, gripping your ass a little tighter. Even though his goal has been to make as many of your fantasies come true as possible, you’ve made so many of his happen as well and you’ve not even known it. He’s almost sure that he’s in love with you and hates that there is only two weeks left until you go back to your real life.

You smirk, loving how you can affect him. You love -no, you won't say that. Determined to enjoy this time you have left and not ruin it. You kiss his jaw and step away, knowing he has to concentrate and prepare for his flight. "Wanna see you work, baby." You slap his ass and move even further away.

Walking out of the locker room makes Frankie’s entire persona change. His eyes focus and narrow slightly in concentration as he walks you out to the aircraft and starts going through the pre-flight checklist that he has memorized. Having you watch while he walks around the helicopter and check rotary blades and different components of the aircraft before he’s ever even stepped into the pilot’s seat.

You watch him, he's methodical and precise, making you wet just seeing how much authority he exudes. The way he just knows exactly what to do. You bite your lip, wishing you could touch him but you have to wait. You'll wait until he's done. You continue watching him until he gets into the helicopter, checking new things.

Frankie hands you a pair of headphones to put on after settling his own over his ears. “I’m going to start the engines up and check the gauges. We will power back down before the clients come on board.” He tells you once you have the headset on. Turning back to his instrument panel, he starts muttering to himself as he checks the gauges. “Fuel, check, battery, check, hydraulics, check.” He flicks buttons and the panels burst to life.

You watch him, his voice coming through your headphones and you admire how much of an expert he is. When he’s finished and cuts the engines, you remove your headphones. “You look so sexy like this. So capable. No wonder all the boys knew you had their back.”

Flushing slightly, Frankie shrugs. “It’s not rocket science.” He downplays the difficulty of what it actually takes to be a rotary blade pilot. It’s more complex than a fixed wing, but he’s never been one to boast or act like the idiot fighter pilots.

“It is to me.” You snort, letting him help you out of the helicopter as Diane comes over to inform him that the clients have arrived. “I told them your girlfriend is coming along and they were fine with that.” Diane smiles when you fluster, knowing that you and Frankie aren’t even dating.

Frankie winks at the older woman. “Thank, sweetheart.” He doesn’t correct Diane, liking the way that it sounds. He looks over at you. “I’ll go grab the clients, you can work the beverage cart.” He jokes. “I take my coffee black.” With another wink, Frankie strides off to welcome the group that are sitting just inside the glass doors, confidence oozing off of him.

You shake your head and smile, amused by his sudden cockiness, more Benny than the Catfish you know and - well, you won’t even admit that to yourself. When he comes back with the clients, you have the drinks ready while Frankie goes over the flight plan and the safety.

Frankie guides the group over to you, amused when you had actually fixed drinks. He had meant it as a joke, but was touched that you had done it. “Well, after we have a drink, we can get up in the air, please no drinks on the flight.” He tells them, smiling at you and taking the water you gave him.

You listen to him as he goes over the safety and rules, oozing authority that makes you ready to fuck him then and there. You grin when he winks at you before he escorts the clients to the bird, assigning their seat by their weight distribution and double checking everything before he helps you into the passenger side.

Using the excuse that he is buckling you to quickly slide his hand between your legs as he tightens the straps to keep you in the seat. Flashing you a smirk, he makes sure his fingers brush over your cunt and he winks before he pulls back, sure that you are affected by the way your breath caught.

You watch him as he tells everyone to put their phones on and you put yours on, watching him flick buttons until the engines roar to life. His voice comes into your headphones as he reads off his checklist once more until he asks the clients if they are good to go.

Frankie is keenly aware of you watching him as he lifts the aircraft off the ground. Glancing over at you as he hovers about one hundred feet off the ground, he sends you a small wink and looks back at his instrument panel and then the horizon outside.

You look out of the window, gasping at the sight of the beach and the water as you ascend higher and higher. You’ve never been this high up and you’re certain you understand the initial draw for Frankie to keep doing this even after leaving the military. “Wow.” You whisper, looking at the view before you glance back at Frankie. The clients are talking too but you enjoy just watching him.

He might be showing off slightly. Moving the yolk and playing with the controls to give the flight a little more movement than he normally would. Nothing to make it uncomfortable, just enough to make it fun. Delighting in your gasps as you watch him work. He’s had women interested in him when they find out he’s a pilot, even having clients hit on him, but you watching him is something else. He can feel the pride and joy radiating off of you and it makes him fall for you even more.

The ride is soon over and he lowers the helicopter back down to earth, cutting the engines and you are soon bidding goodbye to the clients who tip Frankie and thank him for an amazing time. You are so wet for him, seeing how capable he is and how sexy it was to watch him operate the helicopter with ease. When he comes back over, you grab the lapels of his flight suit and press your lips to his.

Frankie chuckles against your lips, although he’s just as eager. Turning around and pressing you up against the side of the helicopter so he can kiss down your neck. “You want to get in the back?” He asks. “Take a ride in the fuselage?”

“Oh God yes.” You whimper, tugging on the zipper of his suit as you reach in to grip his hardening cock. “Want you inside of me, want you to let me ride you in your helicopter and you can think of me every time you get into it.” You tell him, wrapping your fingers around his cock.

Hissing, Frankie ruts his hips into your hand, loving how eager you are for him. “Always think of you in this thing. Fuck, maybe just when I’m f-flying.” He stutters when your hand squeezes him. He knows Diane won’t come back outside but he pushes you back into the helicopter so he can climb in and shut the door.

You straddle him, leaning in to kiss his lips until you pull back, slowly pulling the zipper of the flight suit down to reveal you have nothing on underwear, exposing your tits to his hungry eyes as you shrug off the arms of the suit and you reach between you to continue pumping him, leaning into kiss his neck.

“Fuck.” Frankie huffs, closing his eyes and letting you take the lead. You’ve rarely been in control, so this is a treat, letting him yield to you. His hands come up and cup your tits. “Fuck baby, you’re so sexy.” He moans, loving how you grind down on his hard cock. “Want you to fuck me right here.”

You love how he cups your tits but you need him inside of you. You shift off of his lap, shoving the flight suit down and you stumble, trying to get it off of your boot. Frankie chuckles, leaning down to help and you abandon taking the other leg off so you can straddle his lap again. You reach down to grip his cock, shifting forward to position him at your entrance, looking up to look into his eyes as you sink down onto his length.

Frankie moans, eyes fluttering as you take him. Amazed at how you always fit him like a glove. Groaning your name and rocking his hips up to fill you the last minuscule millimeters. Craving to be as deep as he can possibly get. “Oh fuck, you- fuck-“ His head hits the back of the fuselage and he grips your hips desperately. “Move baby.” He begs.

You grip his shoulders, lifting up his cock and you slowly sink back down, a moan escaping your lips. “My gorgeous, Francisco. Brave pilot and so so sexy.” You moan, knowing you shouldn’t have called him yours but you couldn’t help it. “You look - looked so hot piloting this bird.” You pant, picking up your pace as you start to ride him.

He whimpers when you call him yours. Knowing that he wants you, he lunges forward and desperately kisses you. Sliding his tongue into your mouth while he cups the back of your head and moans when you clench down around him. He loves you. He knows that now.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, barely moving your hips as you grind on his lap and you would say you’re making love more than fucking. It’s slow and unhurried and you love it. You love him. God, you love him. You whimper into his mouth, your chest pressed against his flight suit and you love how the material rubs against your nipples.

His boots press against the floor as he struggles to keep from thrusting up into you. “You-“ he breaks away from your lips and starts kissing along your jaw. “You should pretend to go home early and come stay with me.” He pants breathlessly. “I’ll take vacation.”

“Yeah?” You gasp when he bites down on your earlobe. “Let me fuck you every morning, afternoon, and night.” He pleads into your ear and your eyes roll into the back of your head as your resolve crumbles. “Yes. I’ll - I’ll tell Tom work called me back earlier than - than I expected.” You pant, starting to move a little faster now that the need has taken over.

Moans and groans fill the interior of the aircraft, getting higher every time that you slam back down on his cock. “Oh fuck- come on baby.” He demands, grinding your hips down on his cock and making sure the coarse pubic hairs grind against your clit. “Want you to cum.”

“Going to. Oh God. I’m going to. Always do. Your cock - you’re so good to me. Oh fuck Frankie. Oh fuck. Oh-” Your cry echoes in the fuselage and your back arches as you clamp down on his cock, soaking him as you shake on his lap.

Frankie moans your name, now taking over and thrusting up into you. Frantically burying his cock inside you as he rushes towards his own release. “Fuck- love - love it.” He barely manages to keep from telling you how he feels when he pulls you down hard on his cock and grinds up into you, painting your walls with his seed.

You collapse against his chest as he fills you up with his cum for the umpteenth time. “I love it too.” You pant, kissing his neck as you allow yourself a moment to just revel in this orgasm and this time with Frankie. Time is running now. You’re supposed to be leaving next week. You need to tell Tom you’re leaving early. You feel awful but you need to do it. You need to spend this time with Frankie.

“I understand if you don’t want to trick Tom.” He murmurs after a minute. “I just hate that I haven’t been able to spend more time with you.” He strokes your back and sighs. “We should be able to do what we want. You’re an adult.”

You huff, “I know but you know Tom. He just - like you said, he still thinks I am two years old. I - I hate lying to him but he would kill us both if he found out about us. Baby…I can’t - I don’t want this to end now. I want to spend the week with you. I’ll tell him I’m leaving early. I feel so guilty but I need this time with you.” You stroke his chest, “let me handle it.”

He wants to tell you that it doesn’t have to end, but he just nods. “I trust you. You do whatever you need to.” He bites his lip and grins. “A solid week in bed and how about we drive a couple of hours south? Maybe go to Key West and get a room on the beach?”

You nod, excited by the idea of going away with Frankie. “I’d love that.” You kiss him again, unable to believe how lucky you are to have found him. You just wish he could be yours. “Seriously though, you’re an amazing pilot. I always knew you were but to know you had the boys’ backs? You’re incredible.”

“It was my job to get them home safe.” Frankie murmurs softly. “I took it seriously. Never wanted to see you cry because I failed.” He bites his lip. “Never would have forgiven myself.”

You kiss his chin, “you - you’re amazing, Francisco.” You stare at him and know you’re so close to telling him how you feel but you can’t. You swallow the words and shift off of his cock. “I better - better change and head back to Tom’s, he will be phoning me soon and I need to tell him my plan.”

“Okay babe.” It’s getting harder and harder to let you leave when it’s time, it’s why he had desperately suggested the week with him. He groans as you pull off of him and he grins at you. “You should take the flight suit with you. Trophy.”

You smirk, “I don’t think anyone is gonna want it now your cum is smeared inside of you.” You joke, managing to get it back on and you zip it up as his cum drips out of you. You reach out to tuck him back in his suit, slowly zipping him up and you peck his lips. “Come on Captain Morales, I gotta get home.” You smile and he has this distant look in his eyes and you get out of the helicopter when he helps you down, his hands remaining on your waist for a moment.

Frankie makes you wait for another moment, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours gently. This kiss is different from the hungry ones that you’ve shared before. It’s slow and tender, almost loving as he cups your jaw. “We should get you home.” He murmurs when he pulls away again.

You’re breathless when he releases you, your heart thumping in your chest and you kiss his chin before you let him guide you to change and you get back into your clothes, folding up the flight suit to keep. You’ll sneak it back into Tom’s house. You get back into Frankie’s truck and enjoy the breeze as he drives you back to his house. When you leave, you’re reluctant to go but you have to. Your phone had already buzzed with messages from Tom. “I’ll text you. I should be able to get away tomorrow.” You promise, kissing him once more and you let go of his hand, forcing yourself to leave.

Frankie watches you leave, staring down the street for long minutes after your taillights disappear. He’s in love with you. Hopelessly so. These weeks have just proven it him and now he’s going to use the week alone with you to convince you to make this official. To risk Tom’s wrath and the long distance. Shaking his head, he pulls out his phone to start making reservations. He wants to do this right.

After several hours of convincing Tom about why you had to go home, he finally relented and you are driving down Frankie’s street, parking on his driveway and your heart pounds at the thought of seeing him again. You had said goodbye to Tom and the girls, feeling guilty but when Frankie opens the front door, you can’t feel bad about leaving early. “Hey handsome.” You smile as you get out of the car once he opens your door.

“Hey.” His grin is wide and you are barely out of the car before he’s kissing you. “I’m glad we’re doing this.” He confesses as he pulls away. “Although I need to get you in the house before I fuck you right here in the driveway.”

You giggle and he reluctantly lets go of you to grab your case out of the trunk. You squeal when he slaps your ass when you walk into his house and as soon as the door is closed, he has the case set down and he’s pressing you up against the door as his mouth fuses with yours. You reach up to knock his hat off of his head, tangling your fingers in his hair and you need him inside of you now.

He smirks against your lips, knowing what you want. “Dirty girl.” He growls and tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth. “You want me to fuck you right here, don’t you? The blinds are open and anyone can see what a little whore you are.”

His words have you dripping already, or maybe it’s the fact that he just makes you wet by simply looking at you. Either way, you are desperate for him to fuck you. “Yes. Please Frankie. I’m your whore. Fuck me. Fill me up.” You beg, already reaching for his jeans.

Batting your hand away, he tuts and shakes his head at you. “Strip down and turn around, hands on the wall.” He orders you, slapping your ass when you whirl around. “You don’t get to touch, you’re just going to take what I give you.”

You shiver with arousal as you work to quickly strip down and when he kicks your legs open to expose your dripping cunt, you’re practically shaking with need for him. “Oh fuck.” You gasp when his hand slaps your pussy, your slick covering his fingers and palm to show him how ready for him you are.

“Fuck, always so wet for me.” He groans, reaching for the button of his jeans so he can push them down to his ankles. You like the idea of being completely naked while he’s not, it adds to the fantasy that he’s using you. “Stick your ass out more baby.”

The thing about Frankie’s house is that the front door is off to the side. The front windows to the living room face the door where it looks into the space. Anyone who pulls up to his house has a very clear view of what he is doing right now as he pulls his hips back and thrusts into your roughly. Or at least they will when they walk up closer to the house, by his truck and the rental car that you are driving.

****

Tom decided to see what Frankie is up to. Since you left this morning, he’s been a little down about his little sister leaving a week early so imagine his confusion when he pulls up to Frankie’s house and sees the car you rented on the driveway. “What the fuck?” He mutters, parking his truck and he makes his way to the door, freezing at the sight that greets him through the window: one of his best friends buried inside of his little sister, fucking her like she’s some cheap whore. He growls, running back to his truck and he grabs the gun he keeps in the glove compartment, making his way back up to the front door and banging on it. “Morales. You piece of fucking shit. Open this Goddamn door before I ram it.”

“Shit.” Frankie stops mid-thrust and pulls out of you, scrambling to pull his pants up while you freak out.

“It’s Tom!” You cry, whirling around and grabbing your dress off the floor.

“Open the fucking door!” Tom bellows, the heavy thuds against the door sound like he’s about to beat the damn thing down.

“It’s okay.” Frankie assures you, waiting while you throw the dress on before he rushes over to the door and unlocks it. Throwing it open, he’s met with a very pissed off brother with a gun.

You don’t hesitate to step between Tom and Frankie, knowing he wouldn’t point the gun at you. “Tom please. Listen to me. Frankie hasn’t done anything wrong.”

Tom cuts you off, “anything wrong? Are you fucking - he was just balls deep inside of you. And you lied.” His eyes flick to you and they sadden, making you feel guiltier. His eyes then flick to Frankie, narrowing in anger. “Get out of the way.” He orders, making you shake your head. “Out of the fucking way.”

“Babe, move.” Frankie orders you quietly. If your brother was going to kick his ass or shoot him, he damn sure didn’t want you in the way.

“But-“ his dark eyes turn to lock onto yours and you stop arguing, biting your lip as you move out of the way.

“Tom, you caused this.” Frankie tells him. “You smothered her to the point where she felt like she had to hide this from you.” He’s not going to apologize for touching you. He’s not ashamed of it.

Tom’s jaw drops. “You- how long have you been fucking my sister?” He asks Frankie, who stands straight.

“For the last three weeks.” He reveals and Tom’s fingers flex around the gun.

Tom turns to you, “all the - the beach? The mall? The movies? It was - you were seeing him?”

You nod and Tom shakes his head, heartbroken that you lied to him so many times. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to lie but you - you are always so protective. I knew you would never let me hang out with Frankie.”

Tom growls, “and clearly I was fucking right. He - he violated you.”

You shake your head, pissed, “absolutely not. He didn’t violate me. I wanted him to touch me. I asked him that first night in your-”

Tom’s eyes widen. “My fucking house?” Tom hisses at Frankie who remains tall.

“I asked him to touch me and I didn’t expect to fall in love with him but I love him Tom and you can’t stop me from seeing him. I love you, you’re my big brother but I’m a grown woman and I will see the man I love whether you like it or not.” You finish with a heavy breath, not realizing what you said.

“He’s not good enough for you!” Tom hisses, making Frankie snort and shake his head.

“No one would be good enough for her. You’d rather have her be alone than happy.” He accuses his friend and the man he had considered a brother for nearly ten years. “You’d rather have her be alone than with a man who loves her more than anything and would worship the ground she walks on if given half a chance.” He turns to you. “I love you, sweetheart.”

You grin, stepping closer to cup his cheeks, uncaring of Tom and the gun he is holding. All you can focus on is Frankie. "I love you too. So much. You're all I can think about. Whenever I had to leave, I just wanted to stay, whenever I left, I wanted to come straight back to you. I love you Fransisco Morales." You declare, looking into those brown eyes you adore.

Tom snorts and shakes his head. “So you were just fucking my little sister.” He huffs at Frankie. “You’re just now telling her that you have feelings for her. But I’m supposed to believe that you’ve loved her the entire time you were burying your cock in her?”

You barely take your eyes off of Frankie to look at your brother. "Tom please. That was - I told him I wanted something casual and he agreed. We didn't - I didn't expect it to turn into love. I've always had a crush on him but I thought he didn't think of me as more than your little sister since you do such a damn good job of making sure everyone is reminded of that. I love him and I want to be with him. He was giving me what I wanted, don't blame him for that."

“I will still shoot you.” Tom threatens Frankie, his eyes flat and serious. Frankie waits. “If you hurt my little sister.” He finishes after a long moment.

Frankie nods once and the men communicate silently through looks for another moment before he turns back to you, “I meant it.” He promises you. “I was planning to convince you to see me long distance. Talk and travel back and forth.” He gives a small shrug. “Hell, I don’t want you to leave.”

You pull him into your arms, "I don't want to leave either. I want to stay with you. Frankie, I meant it. I still have the rest of the week, let's see what I can do about transferring down here eventually. I know what I want and it's you." You promise, knowing you would never leave if you didn't have to sort out your life back home.

“You’re going to move here?” Tom huffs, having asked you to move closer many times with the answer always being that you have a life where you live. Now, you’re willing to drop everything for Fish? “Are you pregnant?” He demands, scowling at the thought of his friend knocking his little sister up. His gun hand twitches.

You shake your head, "no Tom." You roll your eyes, "I'm not pregnant. I am in love. I want to be with Frankie.”

The man wraps his arm around you, eyes still focused on the gun Tom has in his hand. “Can you put the damn gun down, Redfly?” Frankie growls, needing it to be out of reach to make him comfortable.

Glowering, your older brother huffs but clicks the safety on and sets the gun on the counter. Frankie breathes a small sigh, feeling his body relax slightly and he pulls you closer. “I love you baby.” He murmurs softly.

“I love you.” You murmur back and he leans down to softly kiss you.

Tom huffs, knowing he has no choice but to accept this. It kills him but what can he do? He wants you to be happy and he will be here when Frankie breaks your heart. “I’m still pissed you went behind my back but…it’s obvious I am not gonna change this shit but you better not break her heart, otherwise I will break your fucking legs.” Tom points at Frankie.

“I’m not going to break her heart.” Frankie promises. “She’s incredible and way too good for me.” Tom nods in agreement, but you scoff and shake your head. “The day I hurt her, I will very willingly stand still while you beat me.” Frankie promises before he looks back at you. “Now will you go the fuck away so we can finish what we were doing before you rudely interrupted?” He chuckles. “I owe your sister an orgasm.”

Tom wrinkles his nose, shaking his head. “Never tell me about that shit again. I’ll go. You-” Tom points at you, “you are gonna come and see me before you leave.” He orders and you nod, knowing you owe him that. You lean into Frankie as Tom grabs his gun, exhaling deeply when he opens Frankie’s front door.

“See you later, Fish.” He says after saying goodbye to you.

You watch him close the door behind him and you spin, pressing yourself against him. “Where were we?” You coo, kissing his jaw.

Frankie chuckles and shakes his head. “Before or after your brother almost shot my ass for fucking you?” He asks, knowing that it was a valid response to finding out that his little sister was with him.

You snort, “he can be such a dick.” You drag him closer to press your lips to his. “Before fucking Yosemite Sam came in.” You chuckle, kissing his upper lip. “I love you Francisco.” You murmur, soft and sweet now that the stressful moment has passed, you want to revel in the truth of being in love with Frankie.”

“I love you too baby.” He pulls back and looks in your eyes. “I really do, I didn’t say that just to save my ass. I would have taken the beating, if I didn’t. But I want to build a life with you.”

You grin, glad you are on the same page. “Me too. I’m going to see if I can work remotely. I gotta go home to sort everything out and then when I come back…I can get a place and we can be together properly.” You caress his chest, reaching for the hem of his shirt, pulling back to lift it over his head. “I want a life with you.”

Frankie frowns and shakes his head. “You can stay with me.” He offers. “You don’t have to sleep in the same bed if you don’t want to, but I have the room. You don’t have to pay for somewhere to live.” It’s ridiculous for you to pay for a house or apartment when he had bedrooms that weren’t being used. He wasn’t going to assume that you wanted to live with him.

“I didn’t want to assume that you want me to move in with you.” You confess, “I wouldn’t be able to sleep in another room and be in the same house as you. I wanted to sleep in your bed, in your arms. I love you Frankie. I want to be with you. I am all in.” You promise, leaning in to kiss above his heart.

He growls and grabs your arms. “Come on.” He orders harshly. “I want to have you in the bed we are going to sleep in together.” He loves that you are already all in.

You let him guide you to his bedroom, one you know as well as your own despite never sleeping a full night in his bed. He quickly strips you down again, laying you on the bed and you look up at him, not wanting him to be anything other than himself. “I want you. Just you right now. Want you to make love to me.” You order.

“Yes ma’am.” Frankie breathes out, kneeling on the bed and sliding his hand up your thigh as you spread them for you. “I’ve wanted to do this since the first day.” He admits with a grin. “Now I’m going to be able to. And hopefully the last man to make love to you.”

You smile at his words, heart clenching with hope that it’s true. “Yours. Only yours baby.” You promise, wrapping your arms around him when he hovers over you, shifting his weight to one arm so he can grip his cock and push into your wet pussy. “God I love you.” You sigh when he’s fully seated.

Frankie groans and closes his eyes, slowly starting to rock into you. “Love you too baby.” He promises, taking your hand and lacing his fingers with yours to hold. He wants you as close as he can have you. Needing to be connected.

You moan, squeezing his hand as he moves inside of you. "Oh fuck baby. You feel - so good. Always so good." You ramble, tilting your head back and he kisses along your neck, making you sigh in contentment. Happy to be in his arms and have your feelings out in the open. "I'm yours." You promise, closing your eyes when he hits something incredible deeper inside of you.

“Good.” Frankie groans, rocking his hips a little faster. He wants you to cum, to fall apart for him. Kissing down along your jaw, he chuckles and bites down on your pulse. “Want to feel you cum for me.”

You whimper when he pushes deep inside of you, making you gasp out and you are so fucking close to cumming. When his fingers rub your clit, you gasp and within a few thrusts, you are cumming. "Oh fuck baby." You cry, throwing your head back into the mattress as you cum.

He keeps his lips attached to your skin while he works you through it. “So good.” He groans, rocking into you faster and harder. “Love you, love you so fucking much.” He pants into your skin.

“Cum for me, Francisco. I love you so much. Cum.” You beg, reaching for his hair to pull his face to yours so you can kiss him, swallowing his groan as he buries his cock inside of you and paints your walls.

He collapses on top of you and slides his arms under you, holding you close while he tries to catch his breath. “I love you.” He pants, closing his eyes and thanking God that you love him and you want to do this with him. Along with Tom not putting a bullet in his ass.

You just breathe him in, that lingering scent of oil and something woody that makes your body relax instinctively has you burying your face in his neck. “Thank you.” You murmur and he pulls back to look down at you, a frown on his face.

“For what?”

You smile and cup his cheeks, thumbs caressing his stubbled cheekbones. “For being everything I ever wanted.” You whisper and his answering grin takes your breath away. To think it all started with you and Frankie in Tom’s kitchen, having sex. You didn’t take the most conventional path to make it to where you are, but you wouldn’t change a thing. Fucking Frankie Morales is incredible, loving Frankie Morales…it’s indescribable.

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