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braverytattoos · 16 days
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Louis arriving in Chile
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ponku-po · 1 year
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千雲九枭/fanzeem
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nattaphum · 6 months
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Mile Phakphum and Apo Nattawin arrived at the Wonderful Journey event ❤️‍🔥 [16.10.2023]
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lionfloss · 2 years
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source
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modmad · 1 year
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Well As That Just Happened
this seems like a good time to mention that if you are at all interested in listening to the Taffy Train Saga the playlist is here on youtube!
it's just a bunch of us goobers playing DnD with various bootleg toon/viddy game characters and having a very good time that doesn't get at all dramatic or sad (it does. don't worry about it.) it is VERY unpro, we are just homebrew humble folk here for the shenanigans anyway I did put a lot of effort into writing the thing and my players did a marvellous job of disembowelling it completely and I think it might be the best thing I ever did for DnD soooo??? yeah!
there is also a masterpost for Toonkind DnD (now including a huge database of transcripts!) for if you want to learn more about this lovely homebrew created by @yunisverse
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handmadecrybaby · 5 months
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sneaky link told me i always reach out and grab his hand while i’m asleep 💀
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stingsbf · 2 months
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shhh he's doing his paint
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bi-writes · 1 year
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i'll fix it for you
he rarely means what he says.
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type: one-shot pairing: joel miller x fem!reader word count: 4.4k warnings: some violence and suggestive content, mature language, implied age gap summary: boston. let your imagination do the rest.
complete masterlist author's note: been awhile since i've written anything. hope i haven't lost my touch.
There wasn’t much your hands couldn’t do. Your fingertips were tender and meticulous enough to fit into small places, making them perfect for something most desirable now—fixing things.
You had your hands around the small radio, a marker behind your ear and a screwdriver in your dominant hand. You spun the flathead into the screw, unwinding it until it was wobbling loosely and fell onto the table. You moved the screw to the little dish you had holding the others, taking a hold of the face of the device and lifting the worn plastic up.
You went slow, seeing that wires and electronic components were fitted to both sides of it. There were in familiar colors that you had memorized. Red diverted power, black grounded it, and the other colors were reserved for digital and analog readings. Your eyes went to the board that the wires were connected to, and your heart sank a bit. Around the soldered pins, you could see the discoloration of the green board, a bit of ash and black coloring seeping into the bright color.
“Fuck,” you whispered, putting the radio down. It was fried, and the only fix was to replace it.
Your comment didn’t go unnoticed. A towering figure sat down in front of you, and you didn’t have to look up to know he was staring right into your figure, a glare of curiosity and knowing disappointment. He never said much, so you knew he was waiting for you to elaborate on your sudden glowering mood.
“The component’s fried,” you said softly, putting the screwdriver down. You picked up a screw and played with it in your free hand, anything to keep yourself from looking up at him. “I…I need a new one.”
Silence remained. You knew what that meant.
No.
If he had a suggestion or an idea, he would’ve said it by now. You chewed on your bottom lip nervously, closing your eyes. It was your job to fix things; but you couldn’t fix things if you didn’t have what you needed.
You opened your eyes again, your head raised enough that you finally met his gaze. He wasn’t smiling, but that didn’t surprise you. What surprised you was that he seemed just as disappointed. Not angry, not frustrated, just disappointed. His gaze was accusing, even though he usually would have commented by now, in a tone most condescending.
“I don’t tell you how to do it, I just tell you to do it.”
You didn’t have his wisdom nor his years of experience. You didn’t have a hunter’s aim, you didn’t have killer instinct, but what you did have was books and time. Books to teach you, and time to learn. You were valuable enough to be worth enough ration cards to last a lifetime, and you knew it was why he kept you around. If he was good at anything, it was evening the odds, it was surviving. You made those chances much better when whatever you fixed was worth a basketful of goods.
You only agreed because it wasn’t so bad to be associated with him. As soon as you had been seen walking beside him at the market stalls, there was no more bargaining. Whatever you wanted, you paid less than what they were asking. Any soldier that had been looking you over soon pretended you weren’t there. If you asked for a favor, it was done. He was not your bodyguard, but his name beside yours was enough to keep the tide at bay.
So, you did whatever he wanted whenever he needed it. Neither of you had ever talked about this deal, but as soon as your days were calm with not so much as a frustrating touch or a wrong encounter, you never stopped showing up at his door. Words unspoken, a deal established, a life unbothered.
There wasn’t much else you could ask for.
You put the screw down, leaning back in the worn dining table chair. It creaked a bit, biting through the disappointing silence. You pursed your lips, sighing deeply, your mind wandering.
“I can ask around,” you said softly. “Someone has what I need. I’ll fix this for you.”
That phrase, the words that fell from your lips, it was sweet to his ears. You meant them well, and he knew the words were true. The promise you always made, “I’ll fix it for you,” you never fell through.
When he didn’t respond, you stood up. You went to the couch, where your bag was sitting, and you started gathering your things. The chair he was sitting in slid across the floor as he stood up.
“Where are you going?” He asked lowly. You lifted the bag over your shoulders, zipping up the end of your jacket. You shook your head, knowing this conversation was coming.
“I’m going to get what I need,” you said simply. He stepped closer.
“You know that isn’t how this works,” he countered. “I’ll go.”
“You’ll just scare them off,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes a bit. “You don’t know how to ask nicely.”
“How many close calls have you had? We both know—”
You stepped closer to him, putting a cautious hand on his chest. It stopped him mid-sentence. You had never touched him before, not really.
“It’s okay,” you assured him. “I just need a few hours. He won’t give me what I need if you’re with me, I know it. You scare him.”
He tilted his head to the side, angrily. He knew who you were talking about now. This wasn’t someone, it was somebody.
“I can handle him,” you said finally, after a few tense moments. You sighed, looking at the radio on the table. “How many ration cards is that worth?”
“Not just cards,” was all he replied, and you looked up at him with a raised brow.
“Then let me do this. We need this.”
We.
You took a deep breath, a smile finally gracing your face. You could feel his heartbeat slow almost at the sight, a reassuring smile that made his face fall a bit. You dropped your hand slowly from its place on his chest, and he almost flinched, almost lifted his own hand to keep you there.
But he didn’t.
“How about this?” You suggested, looking towards the window. It was about noon. “If I’m not back by sunset, then…by all means, wreak havoc. But I’m a big girl. It’s gonna be fine.”
You turned back to look at him, and he had turned his head to look at the window, too. Your eyes scanned his face, deep in thought. There was nothing more comforting than his thoughtful presence. He always knew what to do.
“Just don’t be stupid,” he said finally. His tone was back to normal; condescending, authoritative, as if he was scolding you. “I don’t wanna have to come get you.”
The quiet and calm moment was broken. You tried to not let his words show their effect on your face. You swallowed the sour taste in your mouth, turning to leave. You only were able to take a few steps before you were yanked backwards by the straps of your backpack. You opened your mouth to protest, but then you heard the zipper of your bag opening. He shuffled around inside, and you flinched a bit when you heard a disappointing grunt come from him. He roughly zipped your bag back closed, and then you felt his hand in yours. He handed you your switchblade, his touch leaving you once he was sure you were holding onto it.
“This oughtta be on your person,” he said lowly. “Can’t reach into your pack if you get into trouble.”
You gave him a small smile over your shoulder before you bent down and slipped the blade into your boot. You stood up again.
“I won’t get into trouble.”
When the door finally closed behind him, he finally let himself breathe. It was a shaky breath that came out rougher than he intended. He made his way over to the window, waiting there until he saw you come out the front, making your way down the steps. He watched as you walked down the street, his eyes on you until you turned the corner and disappeared from view.
The strain in his throat only got worse. He didn’t think twice before grabbing his bag, tossing it over his shoulders and making his way out.
“I got a few in the back.”
You sighed a bit with relief, tapping your fingers against his desk. You reached into your back pocket, pulling out a stash of cards.
“I could give you these,” you said, “unless you got something you want me to fix.”
You didn’t want to give the cards. In fact, most of your transactions here were remedied with your skill. People always needed something fixed, and you were more than happy to oblige.
“Yeah, I got something for you to fix,” was the response, along with a sly smile and a gaze that didn’t go unnoticed. You stiffened a bit, rolling your eyes.
“Don’t be an asshole,” you mumbled. “Give me what I need, and I’ll agree to forget what you just said.”
“I don’t want you to forget.”
He stood, and you straightened your posture. You narrowed your eyes, tilting your head to the side, shaking your head in a silent warning. The kind of trouble that followed exchanges like this weren’t pretty. You knew it, and you hoped he would remember that.
“Get me my parts,” you said again. “It’s the last time I’ll ask.”
You weren’t unfamiliar with situations like this. You might not have been the best sharpshooter in the city, but you could handle yourself. You silently thanked something above for the reminder to put your blade in your boot.
Can’t reach into your pack if you get into trouble.
You were quicker. His hand reached towards you, and you lifted your foot behind you, swiping the blade and flicking it out. You put a fist to his chest, knocking him off balance enough that he grabbed the table for support. You did not think twice before letting the tip of the blade go through the back of his hand, pinning him to the table.
The scream he let out echoed around the room, and you shoved the table backwards, forcing him to sit back into his chair.
“I fucking warned you,” you said before going around the table into the room in the back. He kept things organized. Everything was stored neatly in boxes, labeled with marker on fading painter’s tape. You opened your bag, grabbing a handful of the components you needed. You grabbed yourself a few extra things, some batteries and screws and other electrical parts that you were short on.
For my trouble, you told yourself.
You came out of the room, standing in front of the table where he was wheezing, hot tears rolling down his reddening face. His blood was dark as it ran down the skin of his arm.
You reached for the end of your blade, wrenching it out of his hand and splattering his blood across the table. His scream again crackled in your ears.
“I took a few extra things for the trouble,” you said to him, licking your dry lips. They stung.
“You bitch, I-I swear—”
Your laugh stopped him, and you put your hands on his desk, leaning forward.
“I dare you,” you said softly, almost sweetly. “To come after me. You know where I’ll be. And who I’ll be with. Let’s just agree to forget this ever happened, and then I won’t have to tell him how close you got to me today.”
His eyes burned with anger. They were dark and flooded with frustration. Your frame, smaller and younger than him, but so untouchable even though nothing separated you. You had too much baggage, too much protection, too many friends. He was not popular; he would not win.
“So when I need favors,” you continued, “and when I need things, you’re gonna give them to me.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but you shook your head.
“I’m not unreasonable,” you said. “I know you have a business to run. I won’t ask for much. But when I need something, you’re gonna be there for me. You’re gonna give it to me. Because you know what’ll happen if you don’t.”
The name hung in the air. Unspoken, but even just a whiff of him was enough to shut the man up. You didn’t have to say his name for the threat to sting, to permeate the air and stick like gum on the wall. His name was sacred, and you spoke it as little as possible.
Anyone smart enough made sure they knew his name, anyways.
You grabbed a rag off the chair beside you, tossing it at him.
“You should wrap that hand,” you finished before turning on your heels and leaving. The slam of the door behind you echoed through the hall. There were a few patrons shuffling around that just stared at you, but you didn’t pay them any mind. You simply made your way down the steps of the apartment building, shoving past anyone in your way.
When you were on the street again, you looked up at the sky, realizing the time. You needed to get back before he noticed.
To get home.
You kept up a steady pace as you made your way through the city. It was busy at this time. People were trying to get home before curfew, and they appeared tired and sluggish as they went through the motions. The sun was heavy today, warm and uninviting, and the sweat was in the air.
You noticed your shadow once you were closer to his street. A dip between the sunshine that came and went, a figure in your peripheral vision that followed you slowly. The hairs on the back of your neck stood tall, but then you realized the intense gaze was familiar. The curls, the ragged, figure-hugging shirt he wore, the stoic expression that nobody could really read.
You slowed your pace, letting him catch up. You turned finally, stopping, your eyes meeting his. You didn’t know whether to be angry or relieved that he had followed you. Once he realized he was caught, he slowed his walk. He made his way towards where you were standing, and you looked up at him with a neutral face.
“I told you I could handle it,” you said to him. Your voice was gentle. People were beginning to notice the two of you, standing close, and he started to walk again. You sighed in defeat, following him now. You felt like a child. Like you had just been found out, caught breaking the rules, and you were just walking towards the room where you’d never hear the end of it, of the lecture.
You shut the apartment door behind you, gently, locking it. He was already seated on the couch, his elbows on his knees and his hands folded together. You put your things down, slowly making your way towards him. You took a seat beside him, the cushions bending under you, your knee touching his. You were awfully close.
You opened your backpack, taking out the components and other parts you had procured. You set them down on the coffee table, smiling to yourself. You showed it to him like it was your prize. It was your trophy; you had done a job without him, handled the trouble, and came out with more than you planned.
You sat back on the couch, but he was still leaning forward. You looked down at your hands, still stained red. The blood wasn’t yours, but it didn’t stop you from swallowing hard.
You didn’t realize you were crying until you saw the blue of your jeans wet with small drops. You took a shaky breath, rubbing your hands on the couch for comfort. You weren’t a fighter, not really. Nothing was ever truly easy.
The blood never truly came out. The scars never faded. The words never stopped repeating themselves in your head. The stares never left your memory. The bruises never got better, not truly, when their touches were so rough.
You went to stand, but a grunt from him stopped you from moving too far. He put a hand on your thigh to keep you beside him, and you relaxed back against the couch. You stared down at his hand on your leg, his fingers curled around you firmly to keep you close. He was wearing his watch still, like always.
His touch was warm. His touch was comfort and safety and security, and if you thought his presence was comfort and security, it was nothing compared to the blanket of it you were wrapped in now. You wanted to feel it everywhere. You wanted to feel it around you, in you, everywhere and all the time.
You sniffled a bit. You couldn’t keep the tears a secret, and he didn’t need to turn to look at you to know that you had cried. You drank in the silence, feeling comfortable in it. You let your head lull to the side, your cheek resting against his shoulder. You closed your eyes, letting yourself breathe him in. You had never been this close to him. He smelled good, smelled so earthy and calm, and you nuzzled your face into his shoulder more to consume the feeling of him.
You did not know what love was. You did not know if you had ever felt it before, but if you had, you were sure it was not as intense as this. Nothing would ever be, nothing could ever be.
You let your hand curl around his bicep, holding yourself closer. Your entire body was against his now, your fingers squeezing the muscle that you had ahold of. You lifted your head a bit, pressing your mouth to his shoulder. You didn’t dare press a kiss there; there was no way you wanted to break this moment.
His head turned a bit, his eyes finding yours. His dark eyes were on yours now, and you let the rest of your silent tears fall. His gaze flickered down, watching the tears curl around your jaw before wetting his hand that still wrapped around your leg.
He lifted his other hand, reaching around and using the rough pad of his thumb to wipe your face. You kept your eyes on his as you leaned into his touch. It was clear to him now the effect his touch had on you. You followed it if he let you, searching for it to keep you grounded.
“Joel…”
The name slipped past you finally. You spoke it, gently, barely audible above a whisper, but you said it. It felt alright to say it between the walls of your shared apartment. For all intents and purposes, this place was safe. Safer than outside, safer than on the street, safer than the apartment next door. He lived here. He felt comfortable enough to rest his head on a pillow here and close his eyes until next morning. If he could do it here, so could you. If he could relax his shoulders just slightly here, you could say his name at ease. There were no barriers here.
Not at home.
He had tried hard to keep you at arm’s length. He had tried so hard to let his demeanor push you away, keep you at a distance, detest you in a way that made you unable to stand him for anything other than survival. He was stupid to think that was possible; there were stars in your eyes that never faded. He was almost certain you had the ability to ignore his words and find the meaning behind their roughness.
Don’t be stupid could be translated to be careful. Don’t make me come after you meant you know I’ll come if you need me. I’ll go really was just another saying for I don’t want anything to happen to you.
As your eyes held onto his, there was so much said that fell short. His gaze was soft, and your eyes were wet with love. You scooted even closer to him on the couch. You lifted your head off his shoulder, leaning even closer, close enough to touch your forehead to side of his head. He didn’t move away, not even a little. If anything, he pressed against you, too, his eyes lowering to look at where his hand still rested on top of your thigh. His thumb moved in circles there, feeling the denim beneath his touch. There was little else he could think about.
“I’ll…” He was first to speak again. “I’ll fix this for you.”
Your breath caught in your throat. This had to be love. There was no other explanation. There was no other way to decipher the heat in your chest, the throb in your heart, the swimming of the thoughts in your head. There was no other reason your skin burned and pulsed and ached to be closer and closer and closer to him.
You nodded in response finally, pressing your cheek to his. You closed your eyes, letting out a gentle breath of relief.
“Okay,” you whispered, and you could have sworn you felt his lips brush against the side of your face. It could’ve been a kiss. The way they pressed just enough against your skin, feeling the slight dampness from the way he licked his dry lips, the tenderness that only his mouth could hold because no other part of him was really capable of being that gentle.
There it was again, just beside your eye. Careful, calculated, secret, as if someone would catch him if he made too much noise or captured too much of your attention. You thought perhaps maybe he knew that if he gave any more than the ghost of his touch, you would make a sound.
It was true. You would cry. Maybe even scream. Perhaps you would say something and give this moment away, but how could you not? Joel Miller did not give affection. He did not receive it, and he certainly did not let his guard down enough to sit this close to someone other than his own shadow.
Oh, again, and this time you heard it. In the silence of the room you sat in, it was the faintest sound, but so sweet, you could taste it. A kiss, the sound of lips pressing against skin, a short peck that made your head spin. You didn’t cry nor scream. No, you whimpered, a soft whine that echoed in his ear. He squeezed your thigh in response as if to tell you that it was okay. Maybe it was to tell you that it actually happened, and that you weren’t dreaming. He was so rough around the edges. He was so hard to read. He rarely spoke, he rarely had any other expression on his face other than bitterness and annoyance. He rarely said anything except an insult or a command or a short, barking response that was meant to silence you.
This was peace and calm and serenity, and if this really was a dream, you wished on something above to never wake you up. You could die now, and it would be the most welcome end to whatever sick fantasy you had created; anything to keep this vision from stopping, anything to keep Joel Miller’s hand on you and his mouth on your skin and his gentle words in your ear.
Again, something new. The scratch of his beard as you turned your head slightly, your eyes meeting his for the hundredth time again. Another tear fell, but it was broken by the smile that grew on you. Sunshine in your eyes, not stars this time, he observed. He stiffened slightly as your free hand laid on top of his on your thigh, but he didn’t pull away. He was touch starved, and every lick of your warmth was a terribly beautiful relief. You smiled wider, suppressing a soft laugh. It was awfully funny to you the way he behaved. The brooding, dark man you had come to know was as stiff as a board, but he never pulled away from you. He didn’t pull away from your smile or your laughter or the soft touch of your meticulous hands, the hands that could fix anything.
The hands that could fix anything. The hands that could fix me.
He stared down at you as you continued to relax. The fear and tension in your body was gone, and while you explored this new territory, he never moved or relaxed. He was letting you explore on your own. He was too afraid to do anything more than he had already done. It was bliss when your hand left his bicep to touch the nape of his neck, playing with the ends of his hair. Greying and curly, but you admired him from this close. Now that you knew what it was like to be this close, you feared you would never move away again. There was something in your gut and on the tip of your tongue that told you that while he would never say it, you would be allowed to come this close whenever you wanted now.
He was gentle with you when he stood up finally. He didn’t push you away. He just let your hands fall into your lap again. It was dark out by now, and the both of you needed sleep for the day tomorrow. It would be a long day, full of laborious work and unforgiving heaviness. You reached up now, taking his hand in yours, stopping him from moving away.
“Joel…”
There was his name again. It felt good to be called by his name again by someone like you.
“Just a little longer?” You begged. He was touch starved; but so were you. He sat again on the couch, unable to deny your request. Perhaps he was unable to deny any of your requests, and you had just never known until now.
I’ll fix this for you had to mean I love you.
Didn’t it?
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galactic-cumslut · 1 year
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brave as a noun
first post on my official rick blog ahhh!! this is so exciting,, in honor of this amazing occasion i wrote some cuck!jerry bc i’m a hater
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rick is his own warning, oops he's possessive AND a perv??, same old sick shit just a new day, jerry is a cuck (accidentally) , exhibitionism
“let’s get one thing straight right now. she belongs to me jerry and only me. you will keep your grubby little hands off of my personal property” rick spoke in a monotone voice completely void of any emotion. his eyes didn’t leave jerry’s as he continued to bounce y/n on his throbbing cock. it was not an easy task to keep cool his with a pretty thing like that softly mewling in his ear.
poor jerry. he just wanted to take y/n on a nice trip since she’s been ever so helpful with morty’s tutoring. it just seemed like the right thing to do. he was dressed and ready to grab y/n and go.
but instead he was sitting in the most uncomfortable chair in the world trying to keep his eyes glued to the floor as he witnessed his father in law fuck his closest friend. it was as confusing as it was traumatic. jerry didn’t dare leave his seat though. he knew how prone rick was to having sudden outbursts that could turn violent fast.
“i want to hear you say it. she does not belong to you..say it jerry”! he snapped, wrapping his hand around the girls fragile neck.
jerry gulped. “she does not belong to me”. He was actively attempting to ignore the tightness in his pants.
rick appearance softened. he was pleased. “and who does she belong to”?
“you rick. she is all yours”.
seemingly satisfied with the mans answer his expression softened a bit. those onyx black orbs seemed to gaze upon him with kindness instead of malice.
“what do you think darling ? does he deserve my forgiveness ”? rick spoke softly , gripping her waist to keep you in place on his lap.
y/n nodded without hesitation trying to create a satisfactory amount of friction between her and rick
“okay jerry...i will let your actions slide this one time. keep your hands OFF from now on. i’d hate to be forced to create more unnecessary problems between us.”
jerry shook his head. “of course rick. this will not happen ever again”. he got up as fast as he could eager to end this daydream like nightmare. as much as he didn’t want to admit it to himself but he was going to be imaging y/n tonight. and for many nights after.
“you are dismissed. close the door on your way out if you’d be so kind”. rick spoke , using his free hand to gesture towards the exit.
“thank you for your kindness rick. see you at dinner.
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whiskeynwriting · 2 years
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Pride and Envy
Agent Daddy Whiskey x Frankie Morales x Female Reader
Word Count: 14k (did this get away from me? Hell yes. Do I regret it? Hell no.) 
Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) Jesus, there’s a lot in here
Alcohol consumption, flirting, praise kink, daddy kink, size kink, anal kink, spanking, spitting, voyeurism, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, oral (m and f receiving), male masturbation, unprotected vaginal sex, mentions of anal sex and anal play, multiple orgasms, cum play, established relationship, established friendship.
A/N: Well happy Sintober to me…
Thank you to my amazing beta-readers @phnyx and @fishingforpike 🥹♥️
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Sintober Masterlist
Join My Taglist!
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“You sure you wanna wear that tonight, babydoll?”
He’s staring at you from behind, watching you dress into your costume. And while you can see his reflection in your floor-length mirror, you turn around to get a better look at him after hearing his words.
“What do you mean?” you ask him, frowning slightly. You then look down, hands smoothing over the delicate fabric. “You don’t like it?”
“Honey,” he drawls, and when you look up, he’s grinning.
Jack walks toward you, holding his arms out and wrapping you in them when he’s close enough. His smile doesn’t fade, purring happily when he hears your giddy giggle, placing a kiss on your cheek before nibbling on your jaw.
“I don’t think I’m gonna be able to keep my hands off ‘a you while you’re wearin’ that.”
“You can’t keep your hands off me when I’m wearing anything.” laughing, you roll your eyes while he continues to hold you. 
Jack was extra excited about tonight, he couldn't wait to see you in this thing. Once the two of you decided on hosting this year’s party, you immediately got to planning your outfits. Once you chose a matching costume set, you presented it to him. And Jack was over the moon with your decision. He always did call you his angel. 
To say the least, it was the most revealing costume you’d ever worn for Halloween. You decided on a small, silk nightgown, the smooth fabric a dreamy shade of white. Held up by two thin straps with the neckline diving low, the hem ending a few mere inches past your hips, the outfit showed off far more than what was normal for you. But tonight is different - you just feel so sexy in this. You feel so small and dainty, pretty, perfect, everything Jack always makes you feel. And besides, it’s not like you’re hosting a family gathering. You have every right to look as flirty as you’d like. 
Adding to your look is a pair of fluffy white angel wings that, once slid over your arms, sit snugly against your back. And finally, a halo, one attached to a headband that rests comfortably on the top of your head. Simple, but elegant, and oh so pretty. 
“You happy with my costume, honey? Is it everything you wanted it to be?” he asks genuinely, taking a step back. You are the one that planned it, after all.
He’s wearing a suit, one he tailored to fit him, of course. If Jack was hosting, he was dressing to impress. And boy did he do that and more. Maroon colors the rich velvet of his outer coat with a black dress shirt underneath. Slacks matching the color of his dress shirt cover his legs, a dark red devil’s tail hanging on the back hook of his belt. He’s also wearing a headband, a black one with red horns on the top. Underneath his headband, his hair is done up quite well, slicked to the side with some hair gel. Jack’s jawline is clean up, cologne dusting his chest and neck making him smell overwhelmingly alluring. And lastly, he’s wearing his shiny, black dress shoes, surprisingly not his cowboy boots. It makes you chuckle; you almost don’t recognize him without them. But altogether, you’re satisfied, more than satisfied with the way he looks. 
After looking over his finely-dressed figure, your eyes meet his once again. And this time, you're smirking too.
“You look amazing, baby.” palms on his chest, you lean up for a kiss, once he happily accepts. “I love how our costumes turned out.” 
Jack smiles against your lips, reaching around to grip your backside in hand, his fingers slipping beneath the hem. 
“You’re tellin’ me.”
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Decorations were hung throughout your apartment the night before, neither of you wanting to worry about doing so on the day of. Today, the two of you focused on your costumes, choosing music, and setting out the food. Typical of Jack, he’d ordered a catering business for the spooky get-together. Even though the party wasn’t a huge event, he wanted his guests to be pleased. Besides, there were still quite a few people coming. For Jack, his excitement honestly can’t be contained; he’s been preparing for this day for two weeks. You really married quite the extrovert. 
But not everyone was so excited to attend your party. 
He thought it was stupid to be so nervous - he was at your wedding for Christ’s sake. And he loves you guys. He’s known Jack for years, decades even, and he’s known you for a while now, too. So, why should he be nervous to see you? You. 
Frankie only made the decision last night to come, doing it so last minute that the only thing he had to wear as a costume was his old army uniform. He’s surprised it still fits. Granted, it’s a little tight, but it fits. 
“Everything will be fine.” he whispers to himself, taking a breath. For a little crush, this thing has really taken hold of him. 
Once the elevator reaches your penthouse, something that makes Frankie roll his eyes whenever he even thinks about the word, he rings the doorbell beside the entryway. Jack did well for himself, anyone who knew him was aware of that. But he showed off his wealth far more than Frankie would if he were in his situation. He sees the vacations Jack takes you on, the clothes he buys you and the restaurants he takes you to. It makes Frankie burn inside; he wishes he could do that for you. 
“Frankie! Hi!” your greeting is enthusiastic and wholehearted; you haven’t seen Frankie in months.
“Hey,” Frankie grins, accepting your hug. Though on the inside, his body is on fire with nerves.
He only got a quick peak at your costume but Jesus fuck, you’re an angel? You’re a fucking angel? You look so beautiful like this, so small and fragile. This fits you perfectly; the dress is so smooth, too, he can’t help but run his hands gently along your back. 
But before he’s even able to truly enjoy your embrace, Jack appears behind you, a smug smirk on his face. 
“Hey Jack,” Frankie nods, breaking your hug. 
“Frankie,” he responds, reaching out with his dominant hand. “How you doin’?”
“Good, good.” 
While the boys say hi, your eyes roam Frankie’s figure. You’ve never seen him in his army uniform before; you’ve seen Jack in his, but never Frankie. But why would you ever see him in it? It’s not like you had a reason to. Either way, he looks good. 
“Come in,” comes your cheerful invitation, stepping aside. “Make yourself comfortable.” 
Frankie notices that there are already many people here, some he knows and some he doesn’t. But it’s not hard for him to blend in, he is determined to take his mind off of you. 
Everyone here is either a friend of yours or Jack's, all of which both of you know. And to your surprise, your home is more crowded than you expected. But you’re not complaining, and neither is he. In the right setting, you can be just as extroverted as Jack, mingling with every guest you’ve invited and making most of them drinks. 
It makes you happy, seeing all of your friends, and each of them in a different costume, too. To your surprise, there isn’t a single duplicate here. Kelsey came as the Scarlet Witch, T and Jess are matching each other as Fred and Daphne from Scooby Doo, Jack’s childhood friend Anthony coming as a cowboy; how typical, you think. But funny, nonetheless. 
“Hey Frankie,” you smile, walking over to him. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
There’s music playing and some mood lighting decorating the ceiling of the room, creating a wonderfully comfortable atmosphere. You’re smiling so sweetly, shifting your weight as you tilt your hips, fingers playing with each other in an almost timid fashion. And you’re looking up at him, the kindest expression on your face. 
Before Frankie answers, he takes a breath, the smile on his face occurring naturally. He’d already had a few drinks, having been at your party for about two hours now. But since you’re the one asking… 
“Um, sure. Yeah.” he nods, shoving his hands into his pockets out of nervous habit. 
“Okay, is beer good? We have Coors -”
“Coors is fine,” he answers quickly, wanting to appease you. 
You raise an eyebrow at his anxious reaction, releasing a small giggle. 
“Okay jumpy. You alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Frankie exhales a breath, nodding. “You look nice tonight.”
“Awe, thanks.” you grin, leaning side to side. “I’ll be back.” 
“Okay.” Frankie says, releasing a tight breath when you walk away.
He watches you walk all the way across the room, your hips swaying with each step, the muscles in your legs flexing, your small arms moving slightly along your sides. You’re so graceful, he just loves the way you’re built. He’s thought about you before, honestly, so many times. It felt so good to think about you while gripping himself in hand, his other curling into the sheets while he imagined how you’d feel. You’d be soft, wet and warm. The sounds you made in Frankie’s head made him blush, your hair down, your body moving in rhythm with his. The thought of your naked body alone made him nibble on the corner of his lower lip, sighing out a frustrated breath. 
He wonders what life would be like if Jack wasn’t in the picture. 
“She looks good tonight, doesn’t she?”
Jack’s sudden presence makes Frankie jump, an annoyed breath huffing out of his lungs. 
“I… what?”
Drink in hand, Jack points your way, uttering your name before repeating his question, only a little differently this time. “Doesn’t my baby look good in that little dress?” 
You may not notice when Frankie stares, but Jack does. He notices every time people stare at you, because it happens often. There were times you’d asked him when out in public if you looked strange or had something on your face, noticing how many people were looking at you. Jack reassured you, chuckling as he’d say, “You’re beautiful, sugar. And I’m not the only one who knows it”. Truly, you stood out, you turned every head in the room. It was strange to you, but to Jack, it was normal. He knew he was lucky to have you. 
“She… looks nice.” Frankie decides on, knowing Jack wouldn’t be happy until he got an answer. 
Jack lifts his drink to his lips, a wide smirk splayed across them. Both of them watch as you turn, Frankie’s beer now in your hand. You stop to speak to someone, though, and your abrupt halt makes your breasts sway. And ever so slightly, the two men are able to see a hint of your sideboob. 
Frankie accidentally releases a sigh, licking his lower lip. And Jack hums quietly, lips still maintaining that shit eating grin.
“They’re soft, ya know.” he tells his friend, taking another sip of his drink.
Frankie turns, eyebrows furrowed. Surely he isn’t talking about your… no. There’s no way your husband would be bragging about how soft your fucking tits are… right? 
“What?”
“You see that?” Jack asks, slinking an arm around Frankie’s shoulders as he turns him back in your direction. “That little bit of skin peaking out on the side of her dress?”
“Yeah…” Frankie replies quietly, helplessly. He gulps. What is Jack up to?
“They’re soft,” he drawls, releasing a quick breath. “And so nice to suck on. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve licked them.”
“What are you doing?” Frankie asks, turning to face his friend once again. His quick movement causes Jack to drop his arm from Frankie’s shoulders, but it doesn’t knock the smugness from his face.
“I’m givin’ you a gift.” Jack expresses, raising his brows. “I see how you look at her; don’t you wanna know what she feels like?” 
“I…”
“What she looks like under there? Because I’m tellin’ you Frank…” Jack sighs, eyes looking further behind him. “You’ll find heaven under that dress.” 
“Jack, that’s your wife. I’d never -”
“What? Eye-fuck her like I’m not standin’ in the same room?” Jack interrupts, one brow raised in question. 
This shuts Frankie right up. Immediately, his cheeks burn bright red, and he can no longer hide his embarrassment. Was he really being that obvious? 
“It’s clear to me that just because she’s my wife, that doesn’t stop you from lookin’ at her differently.”
“Jack, I didn’t mean to, I didn’t want you to…” 
This time, Jack waits for a response. He doesn’t interrupt with some cocky or brazen remark, he just waits. And the longer he waits, the brighter Frankie’s face becomes. 
Your husband saw every single one of Frankie’s glances tonight. Call it dumb luck, but he just so happened to be near him almost every time. He saw Frankie watching you talk to others, making your friends drinks and dancing here and there around the room. He’d smile when you smiled, he’d laugh quietly when you laughed, he mirrored you. He mirrored your every move. And if Jack’s job taught him anything, it was how to read people like an open book.
“Tell me this,” Jack says in the absence of Frankie’s response. “You find my wife attractive?” 
Frankie swallows. But Jack just shrugs.
“Be honest with me.”
And then he sighs, looking down, then over to you, and back to your husband. “Yeah,” he eventually responds with a hesitant nod. 
“And how could you not?” there it is, that returning grin. “She’s an angel from above, ain’t she?”
“Yeah, and you sure are the fucking devil.” It's a joke, but Frankie’s jealousy shows through. It only makes Jack laugh. 
“Hey baby,” you smile, walking over to them.
“Hey sugar,” Jack returns brightly, wrapping an arm around your lower back when you’re close enough to him. 
“Here you go, Frankie.” you offer him the drink, which Frankie immediately takes. 
Jesus, Jack thinks, rolling his eyes at Frankie’s eager compliance. Guess he really does have it bad for my girl. 
“How’re you doing, babe?” you then ask, turning your head to look up at Jack. 
And he smiles, the hand holding his drink rising to your face. With his pointer finger placed beneath your chin, he answers with, “I’m doin’ just fine, baby.” 
You don’t notice it, not at first, anyway, but Jack’s eyes quickly dart over to Frankie before saying, “Gimme a kiss, sugar.” 
As if you’d ever say no, you rise to your tippy-toes, kissing your husband’s beautifully full lips. Little do you know Jack’s heart isn’t the only one beating out of its chest. 
“You okay, Frankie?” it’s a genuine question, a small frown on your face as you analyze his uneasy expression. 
“Yeah, he’s alright.” Jack waves a hand at him before he can answer, a half-smirk on his face. “We were just talkin’ about you, is all.”
“Oh yeah?” you reply, clearly amused. “What were you saying?” 
Frankie’s eyes narrow as Jack opens his mouth to speak. What the hell is this asshole about to say?
“Just about how pretty you look tonight.” 
Frankie breathes out a sigh of relief. 
“Frankie thinks you look pretty, too.” he says it like it’s his dirty little secret, and honestly, it is. He’s never, ever talked about this with anyone, let alone the two of you. 
“Awe, thanks.” you smirk, looking over at your friend. “That’s sweet of you Frankie.” 
And he thinks he’s in the clear until your husband starts talking again. 
“Not just tonight though, darlin’. He thinks you look pretty every night.” 
Your eyes go from Frankie to Jack, and then back to Frank. 
“Oh…” 
“And I bet you, Frankie thinks he can treat you better than I do.” 
“Jack, shut up.” he finally pipes up, Frankie’s lips holding a tight, straight line. 
But he only smirks. “You wanna see how I treat her, Frank? See if you could keep up?” 
You’re in complete shock; Jack never talked to anyone this way. What the hell happened between the two of them before you came back? 
At this point, Frankie’s angry, but he doesn’t want you to see it. And he doesn’t want to give Jack the satisfaction of knowing he got the better of him. But he can’t help it. He’s staring daggers at your husband, and Jack is withholding Frankie’s anger quite gracefully. He’s unphased by it, truly. 
“Okay,” you only speak after a few moments of silence have gone by. “What is happening?” 
“Frankie likes you, sweetheart. Thinks you’re somethin’ special. He’s been watching you walk around in your little angel costume all night.” 
Now you’re blushing, too. 
“How would you feel about letting Frankie see more of you, sweet pea?”
Your head whips to the side, staring up at Jack in disbelief. 
“Baby, are you drunk?” you laugh anxiously, raising an eyebrow at him. 
“Not at all honey, maybe a little buzzed, but that’s all.”
“Then why are you saying all of this?” you ask, not necessarily offended, but incredibly curious. 
Jack shrugs, pulling you even closer to him. “You know I like to show you off.” And then, he looks over at Frankie, who’s still as tight-lipped as ever. “Especially when I see another man eyein’ you.”
Bashfully, you glance over at Jack’s old military companion. 
“C’mon sugar, you’re just so pretty…” he leans in, whispering to you, “Let daddy show you off to Frankie, hm? Show him what a beautiful thing I’ve got beside me…”
Slowly, the arm Jack had around your back retracts, his hand lowering to your ass. He cups one cheek gently, and it makes the place between your legs stir. When he leans back a bit, he kisses your cheek, still smirking fully. And then you look up at him, a soft grin pushing up on your cheeks. 
You’re unsure of this, incredibly so, but Jack’s praise always made you feel like you were high, like you were under some kind of magical spell. He made you feel so beautiful, so perfect, no matter where you were or what you did. Before him, you had confidence, sure, but that didn’t even touch the ego you have now. And that’s all because of him. And above all, you trust him. 
But in Frankie’s mind, he’s having a hard time understanding what the fuck is going on. Is this actually fucking happening?
Jack releases a contented sigh, gazing into your eyes with wholehearted adoration and love. 
“But I won’t let him touch you.” he coos, his pointer finger caressing the space beneath your chin. “Nobody touches you but me.”
You release a breath of amazement, of absolute awe. You’re captivated by him. And Jack smiles at this, his deep eyes scanning your heavenly face before turning to Frankie once again. 
“What do you say, Frank? You wanna see how I handle her?”
Oh Jesus fuck, it takes everything in you not to moan at those words. Jack could be so fucking dominant and possessive when it came to you, and you fawned over it every single time. And when Frankie releases a quick and heavy breath, you look over at him. And it’s clear that Jack’s riled him up. 
Is this a test? Frankie thinks to himself, is this going to ruin our friendship? Is Jack mad?
“Tell you what,” Jack intervenes once again. “You let us know by the end of the night if you’re interested in seein’ how my little girl reacts to me. If not, no worries. You’ll be the only one missin’ out.” Jack winks at his friend, taking another swig from his glass. 
“C’mon, babycakes.” he then says, giving your backside two pats. “Let’s go get another drink.” 
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Frankie was left there with his mouth open like a fish, willing himself to say something, anything - to just make a goddamn move. But before he knows it, your conversation has ended, and the two of you are walking away from him. 
The hours pass agonizingly slow, at least for him. You and Jack couldn’t be having more fun with your guests. Every now and then shots are passed around, small crowds gathering in the living room to play cards while others eat and listen to music. There’s also a space in the corner of your large living room where your guests can take pictures in their costumes. There’s a black backdrop on the wall decorated in fake spider webs that cover orange and purple string lights. In front of the set up is a timed camera, which everyone is more than welcome to use to take as many pictures as they’d like. You and your friends take more than what you’d expect, the lot of you moving into multiple poses while you laugh. Honestly, it feels like you’re in college all over again. You’ll have to host the party next year, too, this has been too fun not to. 
While you’re busy dancing, and Jack’s busy socializing, Frankie’s still stuck in his head. He’s been invited to… what, exactly? Watch the two of you… be intimate together? While he… watches? Is that really the opportunity he’s been given? He doesn’t care about seeing Jack naked, he has many times before during their days in the military. Granted, they were both in better shape back then. Something Frankie would never admit to was that he was envious of Jack for more than one reason. Not only did he have you, but he seemed to keep himself in shape, too; better shape than Frankie had over the years. He chalks it up to their different lifestyles, which is true, but still, Frankie couldn’t help the feelings brewing inside of him. 
And then something pops into his head, this would be his chance to see you, all of you. He’d get to see you naked for the first time, and possibly the only time. Maybe he should take this chance. 
“You think you’d like that, honey?” Jack asks, briefly pulling you aside.
You smirk bashfully. “Maybe…”
“Yeah? You like the sound of daddy showin’ you off?”
Glancing down before looking back up, you nod. 
“You make me feel safe, baby.” 
“That’s my job, sweetheart.” he smiles, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger. But then his expression grows a little stern, a little dark. “And I won’t let him touch you; I won’t let anyone touch you.” 
“Okay, daddy.” you nod in response. It’s so easy for him to bring out the submissiveness within you. 
Across the room, Frankie can see the two of you talking. It’s not hard for him to realize what you’re talking about. With a deep breath, his eyes roaming your slightly covered figure, he finally makes his decision. It’s around eleven at night when he allows the weight of Jack’s offer to be lifted from his shoulders. He’s still nervous about it, but he’s confident with his choice. 
The more guests that leave, the more anxious you get. You’re both intrigued and timid; you trust Jack, and you trust Frankie. It’s just… you’ve never done anything like this before, and you never imagined you’d do something like this in your marriage. But it’s not exactly a threesome, you know Jack won’t let Frankie touch you. And while you are attracted to Frankie, you’re thankful Jack will protect you, make you feel comfortable and safe; he’ll make sure you have fun. 
While pondering the possibility of Jack’s offer, you can’t help but consider your husband’s cockiness. He takes such pride in your relationship, in you, he just can’t help himself sometimes. And tonight was one of those times. It made you chuckle, thinking back to his words. Now that you know how Frankie feels about you, it’s clear Jack did all of that to rile him up. You love Jack more than life itself, but there’s no denying that he could be quite the cocky bastard. 
“You ready to turn in, babycakes?” Jack asks with a grin, quickly giving your backside a grab. 
By now, it’s past midnight, and most of your guests are leaving. Whether or not Frankie chooses to watch, tonight was going to be a fun night for sure. The excitement certainly didn’t end when the party did. 
“Yeah,” you nod, your hips and lower belly already tingling with arousal. 
“You look so goddamn cute in this,” Jack mumbles to you, leaning down to place a kiss on your cheek. “My little angel.” 
You huff out a small laugh, playfully rolling your eyes even though his words make your cheeks warm. And since Frankie hasn’t come up to either of you, Jack moves his hand to your lower back, now guiding you down the hall to your bedroom door. He wanted to have you wait for him on your shared bed, ready for him to come and undress you. Something about that was so exciting; it really displayed his dominance. 
“I’ll be back, baby. Just gonna see everyone out.” he tells you, cupping your cheek to give you a kiss. And you moan into it, more than ready for this portion of your night to begin. 
“Okay, baby.” 
With your sweet goodbye and your mirroring grins, he shuts the door, turning to walk back into the open space of your kitchen and living room. And to his surprise, Frankie is the only guest left. Stopping at the end of the hall, crossing his arms smugly while leaning against the wall, he stares at his longtime friend. And if Frankie wasn’t already nervous, he sure as hell is now under your husband’s gaze. Timidly, Frankie stuffs his hands into his pockets, briefly glancing down at the floor as he approaches the party’s host. 
“I thought about your offer.” he says, clearing his throat as he looks up to address his friend. “She… she’s comfortable with it, too?” 
“Yeah Frank, ‘course she is. I wouldn’t ever have her do something that made her uncomfortable.” Jack shrugs, reassuring him. “That’s my girl.” 
Even in your absence, Jack’s love for you never ceases to shine through. You’re the most important thing in his life, the best thing in his life. And to top it all off, you’re his, promised to him forever. 
“Okay,” he nods, his voice still quiet, shy. “Then… yeah. I’ll do it.” 
“Yeah?” Jack responds, an eyebrow raised and his grin grows even wider on his face. He knew Frankie was crazy about you. 
“Yeah.” Frankie replies, more confidently this time. “Where uh… where is she?”
Jack jerks his head to the side, the look on his face cockier than ever. “In our bedroom, waitin’ for me.” 
For some reason, the image of you waiting patiently for Jack while laid out on your bed makes him hot. And he’s about to see that first hand. 
Following Jack down the hall, he stops at the very end, hand reaching out to grab the doorknob of the room to his right. Opening it slowly, Frankie is met with the perfectly clean and organized sight of your bedroom. It’s a dark and modern style, your bed centered against the right wall toward the back of the room. And when both men walk inside, you sit up on your bed. You’d been laying back on your pillows, playing with the sentimental gift Jack placed on your finger. 
“Frankie…”
“We got a visitor, honey.” Jack says lowly, turning to shut the bedroom door. 
You gulp, smiling bashfully. Immediately, your cheeks burn with anxious anticipation. Leaning back on your palms, you cross your legs, tilting your head to the side flirtatiously as Jack approaches you. He leans down, his presence easing you onto your back as he places his own palms on either side of you atop the bed. 
“You still okay with this, darlin’?” he asks you quietly, nudging his nose lightly with yours. 
Reaching up, you cup his cheek, gently stroking his barely-there stubble. You look into those deep, dark eyes, full of love and desire, and you nod. “Yes, daddy.” But it’s so quiet, Frankie doesn’t hear it. Not yet. 
“Hm…” it’s more of a growl than a groan, Jack’s smile unwavering on his lips. 
Looking over his shoulder, he nods toward his friend. “Make yourself comfortable, Frank. We’ll do the same.”
He ends his sentence with a quick wink, immediately returning his attention to you. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you’re already breathless beneath him. And it doesn’t help when he starts to kiss you. 
On the other side of the room, Frankie’s fists open and close, his palms a little sweaty as he starts to turn into a nervous wreck. He can do this, though, he wants to do this. He’s just… he’s never done anything close to this, not in his entire life. 
When Jack moves down to your neck, your fingers carding through his beautiful, mocha-toned hair, you look over at Frankie, noticing that he’s still standing near the door to your room.
“Frankie,” you say softly, letting out a small gasp when Jack’s hips start rolling into you. “It’s okay. We trust you.” 
Your words are genuine and so is your reassuring nod, your kind smile and entire demeanor helping him to relax. Looking up, he sees a couple of chairs in the corner of your room with a coffee table between them. He takes a breath, clears his throat quietly, and walks over to them. And once you see Frankie relax a bit, you return your attention to Jack. 
“Baby,” Jack moans, completely enthralled by you. His hands reach down, shoving themselves between the bed and your body to grab your ass. “You looked so pretty tonight.” 
“Yeah, baby? You liked seeing me all dressed up as an angel?” you coo to him, feeling his teeth drag across your skin. 
“Fuck yeah I did,” he growls against you, licking the marks he’s currently making. “Your little body wrapped up in this dress… take it off for me, baby. Wanna see what’s underneath.”
And Frankie does, too. When he hears Jack say this, he sits up a little higher, obviously interested in what you’re about to do. He watches you sit up, Jack leaning back a bit as he slides your angel wings off of your body. Placing them beside you, he then removes your headband, giving you sweet kisses all over your face that make you giggle. Your love is genuine, sweet. 
Jack’s hands then fall to the end of your pearlescent gown, watching as you wiggle your hips up a bit so he can lift it off. And once it’s gone, all you’re left in is your white thong. You chose not to wear a bra tonight, and both men are thankful for that. It’s the reason they got to eye the side of your tits throughout the night. 
“Fuck me…” Jack groans, hands rising to paw at your chest. 
He pushes them together, Frankie’s jaw dropping when he watches Jack’s thumbs rub over your nipples. 
“Mm…” he moans almost silently from the corner of your room. 
Leaning in, Jack brushes his lips over your hardened peaks, smiling before taking one in his mouth. Your beautiful body arches up into his touch, the fingers that were once petting at his hair now tightening their grip. And Jack gropes you fervently, moaning while he sucks on your nipple before switching to the other. He laps at them, makes them wet and shiny before breathing out a heavy sigh. 
“Jesus sweetheart, look at you… look at your scrumptious little body.” he squeezes you so hard it makes you whine, and when you do, he loosens his hold. 
And Frankie sighs. Jack was right, they do look soft. Fuck, he wishes he could touch them, grab them and lick them like Jack does. He’d make it so good for you, swirl his tongue around your nipples, nibble on your sensitive flesh…
Rising to your face, Jack’s expression grows a little stern, focused. And under his breath, he says, “Baby… daddy wants to eat your pussy.”
“Mm,” you whimper, hands sliding down to hold his handsome face. And Frankie’s so focused on you that he barely hears Jack utter that special word. 
“Will you let me do that, baby?” he asks so sweetly, his voice low yet soft. His eyes dip down to your mouth, your lips parted ever so slightly. And lowering himself just by an inch, he opens his own mouth, his tongue running softly across your lower lip.
By now, you’ve completely forgotten that Frankie is even in the room, and you’re almost entirely naked in front of him. And in his chair, he has what he considers to be the perfect view. He can see some of your face, your bare tits, can hear your sweet moans and witness every movement of your mesmerizing body. He’s already hard and throbbing, his erection fully rising when he saw your naked chest. 
“Yes, daddy.”
Did she just… no. She must’ve said something else. 
Jack grins, thumb pulling lightly on your bottom lip before he begins kissing his way down to your sex. His wonderfully full lips trail down your body, licking the valley of your cleavage, kissing your stomach and ribs, nibbling on the skin of your hips. When he’s low enough, he steps back off the bed, his hands and mouth not once leaving your skin. His hands then find your ankles, gripping them tight as he pulls you to the end of the bed. 
“Oh!” comes your startled yelp, a lungful of air inhaled shortly after.
Your surprised vocalization makes your lover grin, kissing your inner thighs as you spread your legs for him. Jack’s eyes are closed while he worships you, and Frankie leans forward when he sees him start to pull your panties down. Resting back on your forearms, you can see everything he’s doing, his thick fingers dragging away the last garment that dared to hide your body from him. 
“Jesus…” he murmurs, dropping your panties on the ground beside him. He then leans in, warm palms sliding up your thighs as you situate yourself on the edge of the bed for him. “Baby, your pussy looks so cute when it’s all smooth and shaven…” 
This makes Frankie bite down into his lower lip, desperately trying to paint the picture of your wet, hairless sex. But then, to both yours and Frankie’s surprise, Jack looks up. 
“Frank,” 
“W-What?” Frankie stutters in response, eyes darting from your naked pussy to the owner of it. 
Jack’s lips form a half-grin as he jerks his head to the side, his fingers digging into your thighs. “Come take a look.”
When he says this, you whimper, making his head turn right back around to look at you. 
“What, baby? You don’t want him to see?” 
Face a neck running hot and heart beating out of your chest, you whisper shyly in return. “I do…” 
And it’s the truth; this situation is exciting you to no fucking end. 
But Jack raises an eyebrow when you say this, his voice now dropping an octave or two. “Now…” he begins, tilting his head slightly at you. “I thought I taught you how to use your words.”
His sentence makes you swallow nervously, your eyes turning soft and puppy-like. You want to please him. So, taking a breath, you give into him. 
“I… I want Frankie to see my pussy.” 
“Oh, fuck.” Frankie curses when you say it, unable to believe those words just left your mouth. 
Quietly, Jack murmurs a soft good girl while kissing your thigh before addressing the other man in the room. 
“You heard her.” Jack says smugly, looking back over at his friend. “Come see.”
He’s almost unwilling to believe that this is happening. He never would’ve thought either of you would let him do this. And it was a sober decision, one that was considered for multiple hours. You want this, all of you do. 
Hesitantly, Frankie stands, unsure if he should be too proud in showing off his erection. But he shouldn’t care, both of you know how turned on he is. 
“Oh…”
“Ain’t she a pretty thing?” Jack sighs, Frankie now kneeling beside him. 
You can’t help but gasp, desperately trying to control your breaths. This is all so new and erotic to you, showing yourself to another man while being with Jack. And you can’t believe he’s this proud, going to such an incredible length to show one of his closest friends how gorgeous you really are. 
You’re everything Frankie dreamed you would be; your body is perfect to him. His eyes roam your figure briefly before returning to the space between your spread legs, and he moans when he sees you fluttering. Ever so slightly, a small ounce of clear liquid drips from your lips, Jack’s pointer finger swooping in quickly to scoop it up. But he doesn’t take it into his mouth, he returns it to your entrance, slowly pushing his finger in. 
“Baby…” you whine shakily, head falling back on the bed. 
“Yeah…” Jack sighs, content when his finger is entirely inside you. “So good for me, honey.” 
When your husband retracts his finger from your sex, he returns it to your warm walls at an incredibly languid pace. He does this repeatedly, the slow movement of his thick digit stoking the flame of your arousal. 
Frankie wonders what you feel like; he’d do anything to have any part of him inside you. But before he can continue on with his dirty thoughts, your girlish wail pulls him right back to the present. 
“Daddy,” you moan passionately, hips jerking when his finger curls. It makes him smile, watching you react to him. Your excitement has risen so high that you’re clutching the bedsheets in both hands, back curving slightly as he pumps his finger into you. 
Daddy? She just fucking called Jack daddy?
“Jesus Christ…” Frankie huffs out. So he was right. Turning to Jack, he asks incredulously, “Does she always call you that?”
Leaning in, Jack kisses your inner thigh, those dark, predatory eyes flickering up to the other man’s.
“Always.”
“Fuck me…”
“Oh baby,” Jack then moans, his voice deep and rich. “You hear that? You hear how creamy you are for me?” His voice is sweet, passionate. 
“Yes, daddy.” you whine, nodding your head with your eyes fluttering shut. “Yes…”
“You want daddy’s tongue?” 
“Yes! Yes daddy, please, yes.”
“Sh…” he coos to you. “You don’t have to beg for me, sweetheart. I’ll give it to you.” 
Strangely, Frankie’s emotions confuse him. Because… Jack’s words are turning him on, too. He’s loving your dialogue, hearing how descriptive and amorous the two of you are with one another. 
Frankie never knew you had a daddy kink, why would he? But he finds it incredibly fucking hot. He’d melt into a puddle if you called him daddy. An incredible pulse rocked through him when heard you call Jack that the first time, and that throbbing sensation doesn’t go away. It only heightens every time you say it. 
By now, Jack’s added a second finger, and you’re all but crying out for him, your hips moving with his pace. Frankie groans again, his breathing now heavy and deep. Both men are concentrated on your delicate center, watching more of your liquid coat your husband’s hand. 
Your feet are resting on Jack’s shoulders, giving both of them the perfect view to see you. And amidst it all, Frankie gets caught up in his inner feelings. Leaning forward, Frankie allows himself to see more of you, now throbbing painfully in his pants. And without even really realizing he’s doing it, he turns his head, moving to kiss your calf. 
Jack notices, and reaches up to the back of your knee. Angrily, he shoves your leg down, instantly moving it away from Frankie’s face. His stare is intimidating, his voice stern and deep. 
“Don’t touch her, Francisco.” 
And fuck, Frankie nearly whines. His forehead crinkles innocently, those puppy dog eyes moving away from Jack’s gaze as they return to you. 
Inside, you’re buzzing. Jack’s words, his dominant and possessive nature, they make you moan for him. A shiver runs up through your legs when you hear what he says next, too. 
“You can watch,” Jack mumbles, biting into your sweet flesh. “But you don’t get to touch.” 
“Daddy, please.” Reaching out for him, you beg, beg for him to fulfill his promise.
“That’s right…” he drawls teasingly. “I said I would give you my tongue, didn’t I?” 
“Yes,” you whine in response, feeling frustrated with your arousal burning hot. 
“You’re right, baby…” he coos, his lips leaving your thigh so he can lean into you. “Daddy’ll keep his promise.” 
That’s the last thing he says before his tongue lays out over your clit, making your entire body jolt. The pressure is just right, the skilled muscle feeling hot and wet as it rubs against you. He circles your sensitive pearl with the tip of it, his fingers continuing to bring you bliss. And you roll your hips against him, urging him to bring his face even closer to your sex. As always, Jack complies, shoving his mouth over your clit and sucking it inside. 
“Fuck…” your fingers dig into his hair, nails scraping across his scalp as you pull on the thick strands. 
He suckles on you like this, eyes closed as he hums in contentment. And Frankie watches with intent, picturing him in Jack’s position the entire time. This is perfect, fucking crazy, but perfect. It’s like he’s finally watching the porn he’s been dreaming about since the day he met you. He’s watching your naked body writhe beneath him, watching your pretty mouth open as you moan and whine, watching your wet cunt be fucked full on what he imagines to be his fingers, all while listening to the squishy-sweet sounds of your sex as it repeatedly sucks his digits inside. 
“Ugh,” Jack groans, removing his fingers from you entirely. “Spread it open for me baby,” he demands breathlessly. “Let daddy lick inside.” 
Reluctantly, you untangle your fingers from his hair. You feel that same heat of shame crawl up your neck again, now touching yourself in front of someone you and your husband consider to be a friend. 
“Spread it open for me, sweet pea,” Jack says again, his voice displaying his fully mesmerized state. “Let daddy lick inside…”
You do as you’re told, hands sliding down until they land on your fluttering center. Gently, you spread your lips for him, sighing out as you do so and shivering at the sensation of your own touch.
“Yeah…” Jack licks his lips, unable to tear his eyes away from you. “It’s so wet for me.” 
Both Jack and Frankie can see you glistening, clearly turned on by the brazenness of it all. Who would’ve guessed?
The wet slide of your husband’s tongue is lewd as he laps at you, diving directly inside your warm cunt. It makes you moan, makes Frankie moan, and Jack’s body is exploding with pride. He knows how aroused Frankie is, and he loved calling him out on his shit. Too bad the woman Frankie wants more than anything in the world belongs to him. 
“Oh my g-od,” you cry out desperately, your shrill voice music to their ears. 
Your jaw is dropped, the sensation of Jack’s fervent tongue sliding along your delicate skin making your hands shake with bliss. And he doesn’t even have to ask, he knows you won’t last long with him eating you out like this. He knew how to bring you your high, knew all the right buttons to press, all the right moves to do. And why not show that knowledge off while Frankie gets to watch? 
“D-Daddy, I’m… yes…” 
Frankie’s eyes shoot up when you say this. Goddamn, is she going to cum already? 
Your shrill whine answers his question, those warm brown eyes staring at you in awe. Jack groans against you, sliding his dominant hand around to your lower stomach so he can hold you down. He presses himself further into you, rubbing his nose over your clit and feeling your hips buck up against his face while your slick washes over his tongue. 
“Oh my god,” Frankie groans, licking his lower lip as his voice grows a bit hoarse. Subconsciously, he reaches down to palm himself, squeezing his erection through his pants. 
It explodes from within you, the flame that was burning bright in your belly now rising to its full height. Your entire body feels light, euphoria and adrenaline flowing through your veins to create something entirely otherworldly, something truly ethereal. 
“Baby,” Jack mumbles against you, still rubbing his lips and tongue over your core. “Taste so fuckin’ good. You know that, don’t you?”
“Mhm,” you nod, chest heaving as you do your best to catch your breath. “Yes daddy.” your answer is genuine; Jack always looked at you like you hung the moon, like you’re the only thing that matters in life. And he made you feel like it, too.
With that, Jack lifts himself, crawling over your smaller body. “You’re so good for me.” 
It wasn’t just a line with Jack, he truly meant it. The way you tasted made his head spin; it excited him beyond reason to have your thighs around his head, to lave his tongue and mouth over your most intimate space. 
Jack grabs your face, yanking your chin down as he slides his tongue directly into your mouth. Your muffled moan makes Frankie’s eyes roll back, a rough sigh coming from his chest. And through it all, Frankie realizes that you’re entirely naked while Jack is still dressed, while he’s still dressed, too. And honestly, that’s so fucking hot to him, to have you be the very center of attention in this room. 
By now, Frankie’s actions are shameless. He hasn’t pulled himself out but he’s rubbing his palm over his pants. He grips himself in hand, squeezing his shaft while he moans. And while Jack continues kissing you, Frankie looks down, just barely able to see your slippery lips. He thinks back to what Jack said; Jesus, he’d give anything to taste you. 
Jack turns his head when he hears Frankie whine. He’s really gettin’ into this. After pondering his next thought, Jack moves off of the bed. 
“Baby?” you ask, pouting slightly as you lean up to look at him. You loved to taste yourself on his tongue. 
He sighs, hands falling to his belt as he begins to undress. And when you realize what he’s doing, you release an excited sigh. But while you’re staring at Jack, Frankie’s staring at you. You’re still dripping, your sex even more wet now that Jack’s spit is all over it. 
“Honey,” Jack says, gently shaking his head. He then licks his lips, lifting his dominant hand and swiping his thumb across his chin to gather your slick. Your lips part in awe as he keeps your gaze, popping his thumb into his mouth. “You taste so sweet…” 
“Daddy…” your sigh is released from your chest, the movement dramatic and airy. 
And then he grunts softly, hands returning to his belt along with his gaze. “Give Frankie a taste, will you, sweetheart?”
At this, your jaw fully drops, a look of shock washing over your face. Is he about to let Frankie eat me out?
Frankie’s head whips around upon hearing Jack’s words, just as surprised as you. Jack slips off his dark red jacket, now moving to unbutton his dress shirt while his pants remain open. And when he doesn’t hear either of you move, he looks up.
He grins. “Just like daddy did, sweetheart, just a second ago.” 
Looking directly into your eyes, Jack slips off his dress shirt, now shirtless in only his pants. He moves toward you, cupping your face with both hands when he’s close enough to. 
“I want you to put a finger in your pretty little pussy, and when you take it out, I want you to offer it to Frankie.” 
Your head doesn't move in his hold, but your eyes do. They flicker over to Frankie, who’s looking at you with incredible desperation. He has a hand on his crotch, and this is the first time you’re seeing him touch himself. It makes your body run hot. 
Jack turns your face with one hand, putting his cheek right against yours as the two of you look at your friend. 
“See him, baby? Can’t you see how desperate he is for you? I told you, he wants you, baby doll.” and then he turns his head, pressing his nose and lips against your skin as his voice lowers once again. “Give him a taste of your sweet little pussy, and let him know that’s the most of you he’ll ever get.” 
A small gasp slips out, having looked into Frankie’s eyes the entire time your husband spoke to you. Your chest inhales a deep, shaky breath. And Frankie’s does, too. 
“Okay, daddy.” you finally nod, licking your lower lip. 
“That’s a good girl, baby.” he smiles against you, giving your cheek a sloppy kiss before he steps back. 
This time, Jack watches, slipping his belt out of its loops when you move a hand down to your core. Eagerly, Frankie shuffles closer. He’s blinded by you, by his want for you, blinded by the sensations you bring his body without even laying a fucking finger on him. 
“Oh…” Frankie whimpers, eyes dropping to where your finger is. 
Shamelessly, he palms himself, watching intently as you slide a single digit inside. And you whine when you do it, quietly, just barely. But they notice, of course they notice. 
“Frankie?” it’s said timidly, just as you’re pulling your finger out of your sex. And Frankie can see how wet it is, can see it glistening with the arousal Jack pulled from your core. 
“Oh, fuck me…” he doesn’t even care anymore, he feels high, the entire situation making his body buzz with arousal and anticipation. 
“Yeah, baby.” Jack praises, now only in his boxers. “You’re bein’ so nice to him.” 
“Mm…” you moan, both from Jack’s words and the eager motion of Frankie shuffling closer to you. 
Nibbling on your lower lip, you offer it to him, tilting your head slightly. And before he takes it, he sighs roughly, shaking his head before looking into your eyes. “Thank you.” 
“Oh,” his gratefulness makes you sigh; he’s such a sweetie. 
Right after that last word, Frankie’s mouth envelopes your finger. Immediately, his eyes close, his throat releasing an almost painful groan. His muscles shake slightly, tongue swirling around your small finger. 
“What d’you think, Frank?” Jack asks, that smug expression written all over his face. “Did I lie?”
“Mm-mm,” Frankie shakes his head, not bothering to open his eyes or remove himself from your finger to respond. 
“He loves it, baby…” you whisper in awe, moving your finger further into his mouth while he whines. Frankie hasn’t stopped touching himself either, gripping his leaking erection while he sucks your cum off of your finger. 
“I told you he would, sugar.”
Walking back to join you in bed, Jack grabs your wrist, easily pulling your hand away from Frankie. And when he does, the man on his knees looks up at your husband, heaving out desperate breaths. “You enjoy yourself?” Jack asks, almost angrily. 
“Fuck yes.” Frankie breathes out, staring up at your beloved. And to you, seeing Jack like this is beyond sexy; he looks so strong and controlling. 
“I’m glad,” Jack responds, turning his head to kiss your palm, “Because that’s all you’ll ever get.”
And if that’s true, Frankie’s thankful he savored you. Jack was right, you are sweet; fuck, he can’t beleive he got to taste your pussy, taste your cum. He also can’t believe he didn’t wreck his pants when he did it. 
“Oh,” he moans quietly, watching you move onto all fours. 
“You know what’s comin’, don’t you, baby doll?” Jack grins proudly at you. 
You nod eagerly, smiling from ear to ear. Reluctantly, Frankie moves back, watching as Jack fully undresses. And now that you’re both naked, he feels comfortable pulling himself out. Quickly, he returns to his seat, unzipping his pants to release his erection from the tight confines of his uniform.
Frankie had reason to be jealous of Jack’s body, he was more fit than him. Again, different lifestyles, but fuck, did it get to him. Not only was Jack’s arms more muscular than his, his stomach was more toned, too, an area Frankie was particularly insecure about. How does he still look so fucking good at this age? What really gets him is Jack’s cock. Jesus Christ, Frankie rolls his eyes. I guess that fucker has reason to be cocky. 
Eventually, Frankie’s focus returns to you. With you on your hands and knees like this, he’s in the perfect position to see your entire ass and pussy. And fuck, did Frankie love your ass. It’s so perfect, so round and it looks so soft. Maybe he’ll get a peak at your little hole, too. 
“You gonna be good for daddy?” Jack asks, grabbing onto his base. 
“Mhm, yes.” your answer is expected, but it still makes him happy. 
“What do you want, sugar?” Jack then inquires, stroking himself mere inches from your lips. 
“I want to make you happy, daddy.”
Jack looks amazing like this, standing before you in his full form, his entire body on display for you. Even though you saw him like this nearly every day, it was always such a treat. 
“Awe,” he coos happily, reaching down to grab your chin. Gently, he tilts your head up to look at him - you’d been admiring his stomach and chest. 
“Daddy’s happy when he fucks your pretty face.”
Oh my god, Frankie’s eyes roll back. How is Jack’s dirty talk so fucking good?
“Mm…” comes your muffled moan, already allowing in Jack’s tip.
Frankie’s glad he finally freed himself; he’s leaking so much he doesn’t need anything for lube. His tip is crimson and throbbing, aching, and all for you. 
“Yeah…” Jack sighs, one hand on the back of your head as he watches you take him. And as you do, you bend down, arching your back. You do this so Jack can see your body better, not even considering the fact that you’re doing the same thing for Frankie. 
“Jesus, honey.” huffing out a quick breath, Jack’s head snaps back down, both of the men moaning as they hear you choke. “Fuck.”
He tries to go slow, running his fist up and down and just barely teasing his tip. He doesn’t know how long this will last, but he wants to, he wants to last long enough to see this entire act. 
“Baby, baby,” Jack pants above you, watching your sweet, innocent eyes look up at him while you hold his cock in your mouth. “C’mere angel, let daddy give you some spit.” 
Immediately, you lean up, your insides tingling. 
Wait, what? What is he doing? Frankie’s eyes narrow, trying to see what’s happening. He also wonders, does he call her that all the time? Or just because it was her costume tonight? 
Now on your knees, Jack holds your face in both of his hands. He hums happily, lowly, thumbs swiping gently across your cheeks. 
“Are you my sweet girl?” he whispers quietly, looking deeply into your eyes. “My sweet girl who does whatever I say? Whatever I please?”
“Oh, yes daddy. Yes I am.” 
Hearing Jack speak to you like this never ceased to set your body alight. You already came once, but you’re ready to do so all over again. 
“You’re so good, babycakes…” he smirks, staring down at your perfect lips now. “Open your mouth for me.”
Instantly, you comply, watching as your lover leans down to spit into your mouth. It’s a soft, slow drip, Jack’s plush lips pursing just above your open mouth. 
Frankie’s jaw drops in disbelief as he groans. Holy fuck, does she always do this for him? 
And while keeping your mouth open for him, you moan wantonly, forcing another surge of precum to drip from Frankie’s tip. Upon hearing your moan, Jack’s erection throbs, his brows folding up in the center as he releases a soft moan. 
Keeping it on your tongue, you lower yourself back down, swirling the wet muscle around his tip before you engulf him fully again. Lazily, Jack’s hips rock forward, pushing himself in and out of your mouth. Both of his hands rest on your head, petting your hair lovingly. He then closes his eyes, head falling back as you moan around him. 
Jesus, Frankie can only imagine what it’d be like to be Jack right now. He thinks about how velvety warm your mouth is, how amazing it feels to have you moan around him, to shove his cock into your throat and feel it suck him further down.
“Fuck,”
Jack chuckles; he’ll never let up with this. And after tonight, he’ll never let Frankie live this down. 
“Fuck Frank, she’s so good at it,” he drops his head again, watching your mouth move over him. She takes it so deep, too…”
Jack’s praise serves two meanings, to express his gratitude for you, and to stir the jealousy roaring fiercely inside Frankie’s belly. 
“I bet she does…” Frankie gets a little bold, tugging at himself much harder now. “Lucky fucking bastard.”
Another chuckle huffs out from Jack’s chest. But he keeps his eyes on you. “You’re tellin’ me…”
He takes this opportunity to tighten his grip on your head, forcing his cock down your throat. It makes you gasp and choke, sputtering slightly from the sudden intrusion. But you collect yourself quickly, relaxing your muscles so Jack can fuck himself down your throat. With every shove, he rocks you backward, the fat of your ass jiggling right in front of Frankie’s face. His scrotum draws tight to his body, and he has to slow down to stop himself from reaching his high. 
Fuck, fuck.
“Jesus baby, you take daddy so well, yeah…” Jack grunts with every thrust, eyes glued to your naked form below him. “Daddy wants it in your throat, honey, he wants to cum down your throat.”
Oh, so that’ll be it? Frankie assumed Jack would do more. Maybe his stamina isn’t so good nowadays. Maybe that’s something Frankie has on him.
“Just like that, yeah… keep it goin’ sweetheart.”
Jack can feel you hollow your cheeks, can feel your tongue moving beneath him. And you can taste every drop of precum that lands on your tongue. Your nose occasionally bumps the curly hair at his base, taking every inch of him down your throat when he thrusts into you. 
“Fuck…” he looks further back, watching your ass bounce as he fucks your mouth. Keeping one hand on the back of your head, still shoving his hips against you, he leans forward. And you already know what’s coming.
“Mm!” comes your muffled shriek, feeling him smack your ass. 
“Jesus Christ babycakes, how do you do this to me?” he’s breathless, gripping the flesh of your backside in his strong, broad hand. “You’re amazing…” 
Frankie throws his head back in the chair, baring his teeth briefly. Sweat lines his brow, frustration filling his bones. Lowering his fist, he squeezes his base, staving off the impending orgasm that just won’t fucking go away.
“Oh baby, daddy’s gonna cum.” Jack chokes out, brows folding up in the center.
Huh, that was quick, Frankie thinks smugly. But Jack keeps going. 
“And then he’s gonna fuck your pretty pussy, he’s gonna bury himself deep inside…”
The moan you emit around his length sends him over the edge, fucking leaping off the goddamn cliff as his orgasm hits. His groan is erotic, passionate, his body curling over you slightly as his hand returns to your head. Both hold you still while his hips jut against your face, the pulsation of his cock on your tongue making your center tingle. 
“Ugh, f-fuck!” Jack exasperates, lips parting as he forces out a breath. 
It shivers through him, shooting through his limbs. And it feels so good that he laughs, he fucking laughs above you. He empties himself down your throat, feeling your soft swallows and smiling fondly. It’s thick and smooth, the muskiness of it washing your mouth in his scent and taste. His muscles twitch slightly as he pulls out of your mouth, looking down and cupping your jaw once he does. 
“Let me see,” he whispers to you, watching you rise to your knees. “Did you do your job, baby?”
“Mhm,” you nod, opening your mouth. 
Jack smiles brightly when he sees you’ve swallowed his seed, his dimple showing as he expresses his delight. You were good, just how he’s taught you to be. 
“That’s such a good girl, baby doll. You did such a good job for me.” and you absolutely keen, falling into Jack’s arms when he pulls you into him. 
She likes to be praised, huh? She always did seem like a good girl…
“Daddy wants you on top of him, sweetheart. Show Frankie how you ride your daddy.” 
“Really?” you ask, looking up at him with excitement in your eyes. 
“You know how much I like it,” he grins, giving you a soft kiss. “Ride me, baby. Wanna show you off.” 
Even though he’s already done that and more tonight, you smile, moving backward and allowing him to climb onto the bed. When Jack lays down, he’s already half-hard again, and this does nothing for Frankie’s exploding envy. He watches you move over him, kissing up his stomach, nipping at the taut skin of his chest. 
“Angel, turn around for me.” 
You pout. “You don’t want to see me?”
“Course I do, baby. But I want you to see Frankie. Just look at how desperate he is for you, honey.”
Looking over your shoulder, you make eye contact with your husband’s longtime friend. Bashfully, he looks away, pinching his eyes shut when he swipes his thumb over his tip. 
“Daddy…”you whisper in awe. 
Frankie’s thick, almost as thick as your husband. He’s uncut too, a trait different from that of Jack’s. 
“Show him, honey,” he purrs, hands caressing your hips. “Show him how those pretty tits bounce when you’re on top of me.” 
This makes you bite down on your lower lip, now moving to complete your love’s request. Turning, you situate yourself above his pelvis, now facing Frankie. 
“You’re so pretty…” it comes out before he can stop it; he can’t help but fawn over you.
This makes your cheeks tingle, your skin becoming warm once again. “Thank you, Frankie.” 
Jack hums behind you, smoothing his hands over the crease of your thighs. He squeezes your ass from behind, his head resting on two pillows so he can watch you, too. 
“Sink down on me, honey, sink down on daddy…” 
On his gentle command, you do, reaching down to grab his length and lift him upwards toward you. Both men watch with intense focus as you lift your hips, mouth dropping when Jack’s head slips into your entrance. 
“Mm,” he groans, fingers squeezing your hips. “Yeah…” 
“Oh fuck,” Frankie moans, eyes wide and almost submissive. And you smile; you’ve never seen him be such a puppy. 
“Oh…” it comes out gentle, feminine, the sound soft and sweet as it floats from your mouth.
Jack’s hands aid in your descent, his eyes glued to where the two of you meet. Inch by pleasurable inch, he enters you, dragging along your walls until you’re fully seated on his lap. 
“Yes, baby,” Jack praises, gritting his teeth. “Yes…” 
Eyes fluttering open, you’re now able to see Frankie fully. He’s shoved his pants down to his ankles, his cock pulled out of his boxers and leaking all over his hand. Now that he has your attention, he feels the overwhelming desire to show himself off, shamelessly pulling back his foreskin to reveal his nearly purple tip. He swipes his thumb over the top of it, a string of precum made visible when he pulls the thick digit away. 
“Oh…” 
“You lookin’ at Frankie, baby?” Jack asks from behind, feeling you lean forward to place your hands on his thighs. 
“Yes.” you answer quietly, submissively. 
“Yeah? You like what you see?” 
Swallowing, you answer truthfully. “Yes…”
Jack’s voice then becomes dark. “You think he could fill you up better than me?”
And when he asks this, Frankie’s heart nearly stops. You were truthful with your last answer, will you be truthful now? And you are; you aren’t ever willing to lie to the man you love. 
“No,” this time, your response is quicker than your last, and you sound sure of the word. Softly, you shake your head, your eyes trailing over Frankie’s figure. “No one ever feels as good as you, daddy.” 
“Oh god,” Jack grits out, grinding up into you and reveling in your tiny whine. “You’re my girl baby, my good fucking girl.”
“Yes, daddy.” you nod, eyes rolling back slightly before they close altogether, your hips moving shortly thereafter. 
Frankie likes to think you lied to save Jack’s ego, but on the inside, he knows you didn’t. You love Jack, that much is true, and that’s part of why he feels so good to you. The bond the two of you have is incomparable to any relationship Frankie has ever seen. 
Regardless of your answer, Frankie doesn’t let up, his strokes becoming faster as he watches you ride his longtime friend. Frankie’s never had voyeuristic tendencies, so this is all very new to him. Honestly, he didn’t ever consider this, didn’t ever think he’d like something like this. But with you? Jesus, if he had turned this down, he wouldn't have known what to do. How could he ever say no to you? 
Your movements become more forceful as you continue, throwing your head back and thrusting your chest out. Your breasts bounce and sway with every movement, Frankie now gawking openly at them. He rests back in the chair, gripping the armrest with his free hand while his breathing becomes unsteady. 
“Yeah, honey.” Jack continues on, unable to keep himself from talking. And you love it, dear fucking god do you love to hear him speak. “Go on, fuck yourself open on me.” 
“Fuck,” it’s utterred quietly, breathlessly, leaning on his thighs for balance as you move your hips over him. 
“You sexy little thing, ridin’ me like this. Fuck, baby, you’re so tight. Always so tight around me.”
Jesus, I fucking knew it. I knew she’d be tight. 
“See how well she takes it, Frank?” Jack asks with a huff of a laugh. “She’s always like this, so sweet and eager with me. My perfect little girl…”
“Jesus Christ,” Frankie spits into his hand, and when you hear him do so, you open your eyes. And when he sees he’s caught your attention, he does it again. 
“Oh,” you sigh gracefully, watching Frankie’s cock pulse when he returns his fist to his hand. 
You always considered Frankie to be attractive, but seeing him like this has definitely brought that emotion to new heights. You’d never be disloyal to Jack, you’d never even dream of it. All you’re acknowledging is… Frankie can be fucking hot. 
“Oh honey,” he breathes out, spreading your ass as you continue to move. “I can see your little hole, it’s flutterin’, baby doll.”
Your neck and chest burn bright at his comment, licking your lower lip as you grin. He could be so dirty sometimes. And of course he’d choose now to show that side of him. So, you decide to reciprocate. 
“You wanna play with it, daddy?”
“Oh my fucking god,” Frankie can’t beleive you just said that; you like anal too?
Frankie has always had an anal kink, he loved to lick it, finger it, fuck it. But honestly at this point, it wasn’t just a kink, it was a full-blown fetish. And to see you in such a position is a fucking dream come true for him. 
“Babycakes,” Jack gasps out, feeling you increase your pace. “You know I do…” Jack’s voice gets low, trailing off as he focuses on you. 
Without taking his eyes off of your perfect form, Jack pops his thumb into his mouth, his hand reaching for your backside when he’s content with how wet he’s made it. For some reason, your eyes fall to Frakie’s as Jack sticks his thumb in, your jaw dropping open and eyes going soft as you moan. 
“Fuck, did you put it in her?” Frankie asks, and he can’t fucking help it. He had to ask. 
“Yeah I did.” Jack responds cockily, that signature smug grin curling on his lips. He huffs out a breath, shaking his head. “How’s that feel, baby?” 
“So,” you gasp, swallowing thickly while wiggling back against him. “So good.” 
“Fuck me…” your eyes are still on Frankie’s when he says this, Jack moaning while you squeeze him tight, both his cock and thumb. 
It burns pleasurably, his thumb swirling in your backside, your eyes rolling back at the sensation. The act makes it harder to ride him; you feel like you’re going dumb. 
“Daddy, daddy,” you whine pathetically, throwing your head back and digging your nails into the muscles in his legs. 
“Oh… daddy, daddy.” he sighs, sounding cocky though his mocking words come out soft. “What is it, sugar? I’m right here.” 
The way Jack treats you makes you feel light-headed, like you’re the most precious thing on the entire earth to him. And you are, and he’s glad you know it.
“It’s… s-so much…” 
Frankie looks mesmerized, nearly drooling as he watches you fuck yourself open on Jack’s cock. Lord, does he wish it was him, he wishes he could feel your ass bounce down on his pelvis, see your pretty ass jiggle, spread your cheeks to watch your dirty little hole clench and squeeze. You never imagined Frankie to be so attracted to you, but knowing he’s this enamored by your personality and physique makes your confidence bloom. 
The wet sounds of Frankie masturbating in the corner of your room make you moan, watching his slick length drool over his hand. You feel so distracted, not just by Frankie but of course by Jack, by the way he’s making you feel. Your pace falters, but he picks it up with ease. His free hand falls to your outer hip, slamming you down onto his lap when he begins thrusting up. And you cry out for him, whining when you feel his thumb move back and forth in your tightest hole. 
“Baby, you’re so tight back here.” Jack tells you breathlessly, that rich southern accent making you buzz inside. 
“Yeah, I bet you are.” Frankie nods once, fucking his hand more fervently. 
“Oh, look at that,” your husband grins, chuckling quietly. “I guess Frankie likes when I play with you back here.”
“I fucking love that.” it comes out without a filter, without a second fucking thought. 
The hand not currently tugging at his cock slides down to cup his scrotum, fondling the delicate skin in his palm. He moans, his eyes going soft, and you whine quietly at the sight. 
“Well, why don’t we show him then, sweetheart?” 
“Mm, daddy,” you whine, chest exhaling a dramatic breath. “What do you mean?” 
Jack takes a second to breathe, smoothly sliding his thumb out of your ass. He gives you a light tap then, barely stinging the outside of your right cheek. 
His tone is gravely when he speaks. “Get on your hands and knees for me.” 
Without a second thought, you lift yourself from him, slowly and gracefully. Frankie watches you move, licking his lower lip as he slows down his own movements. You crawl forward while Jack slides his legs out from under you. With a soft grunt and a heavy sigh, he rises behind you, resting on his knees. Submissively, you lean forward, resting not on your palms but on your forearms to arch your back more. You’re still facing Frankie, but he can see your ass high in the air now, breathing heavily while watching Jack’s hands slide over your ass. 
“You know how beautiful you look right now, darlin’?” 
“Hm…” eyes closed, humming pleasantly, you wiggle your hips back and forth slowly for him in a silent display of contentment. 
Jack groans behind you, all while showing that beautiful smile. Unexpectedly, he smacks a hand down on your plump flesh, earning a shrill moan from you. Baring his teeth briefly, he does it again, sighing heavily when you cry out again. 
“You want me to finger it, honey?” 
“Yes…”
“Say it.” Jack quickly demands, his voice low and authoritative. “Tell me you want daddy to finger your pretty little asshole.”
“Holy fuck,” Frankie’s head drops back; how can he be so turned on by Jack Daniels’ words? Quickly though, he lifts his head. Not only does he want to hear you say it, but he wants to watch when your lover does it. 
You whimper quietly, pressing your face into the soft blankets covering your marital bed. “Daddy…”
“I told you to say it.” 
It’s impossible to be disobedient when he speaks in that tone.
“I want it, daddy,” you inhale a deep breath, gathering the courage as your face burns from the brazenness of his words. “I want you to finger my pretty little asshole.” 
“Yes…” comes Frankie’s small word. 
“Yeah,” your husband’s word is spoken differently, almost hissed from between his lips as his cock twitches upon hearing your repetition. “That’s so good baby,” he looks down, gripping the thickness of his erection. “That’s so good, did so good for me, angel…” 
He’s breathless and rambling, and you know that means he’s having a hard time holding himself back. And when he fucks you in this position, he never lasts long. 
Sitting up a bit higher in his seat, Frankie’s eyes are zeroed in on the curves of your ass. Jack spreads your cheeks, a slow drip of spit falling onto your crease. And then he lifts his hand, licking his first two digits before lowering them to your sex. He rubs you with them, furrowing his brows as he listens to your moans. He slides a finger into your warmth, pumping it in and out only a few times. That very same finger then rises, circling your upper hole.
“Fuck, fuck,”
“You think about this, Frankie?” Jack asks, hearing the sloppy sounds of his hand. “You think about my baby girl’s ass?”
Frankie grunts, once again annoyed. Gritting his teeth, he mumbles out, “How can I not?” 
“I know,” Jack laughs, “She’s amazing, isn’t she?” 
“Daddy,” your whine pulls both men from their sexual thoughts. “Please put it in.” 
You’re pulsing around nothing, desperate to feel him inside you again. You need him to fuck you, to make you cum for a second time tonight. 
“Sh…” he hushes you kindly, those deep brown eyes watching as his pointer finger begins to slide in. 
“Yes…” 
You have such an intense desire for him, to kiss his beautiful lips, to feel his skin on yours, to experience the sensation of him filling you as much as he can. And when that thought comes into your head, you reach back with one hand, grabbing onto his hip. 
“Please,” 
“Damn baby, you want it bad.” he teases, feeling your nails scrape across his skin. 
When Jack’s finger is entirely surrounded by your tight muscles, both him and Frankie sigh out.
“How does it feel?” Frankie asks quickly, “Please tell me how it feels.”
Jack just laughs, but you reply. 
“So good, it’s so good, it’s so fucking good. I want more.”
With his free hand, Jack reaches back down, lining himself up before slowly inching inside. The sounds you’re making make Frankie fucking blush, his mouth going dry from having it hang open for so long. 
When your husband’s cock is entirely seated inside, he stills, now focusing on the movements of his finger. He pumps it into you, much faster than before. And he spits again, aiding in the slide of his tick digit as he works it into your ass. 
“Daddy, yes!”
“Fuck, you’re so good for me, such a dirty little girl for me.”
Frankie leans up even further this time, whining when he gets a full view of your taut asshole. It stretches every time your husband’s finger enters, your muscles squeezing tightly together each time his digit leaves. 
“Fuck - I’m gonna cum.” he breathes out, not even wanting to blink. 
Now, Jack’s hips start to move, slapping against your ass as he fucks himself into you. Feeling Jack fuck you like this, hearing their collective moans, it’s all so much; it’s overwhelming you. 
“You hear that, honey? Frankie’s gonna cum just from seein’ you, just from watchin’ you get fucked.”
“Oh my god…” it’s muffled, your fingers gripping onto the sheets while the side of your face presses against the mattress. 
And just like that, Frankie’s done. Your high moans, your pretty face contorted in bliss, the sloppy sounds of your pussy and ass getting fucked…
“Ngh,” forcefully, his hips thrust up into his hand, lifting from the seat ever so slightly. The back of his head returns to the top of the chair, mouth agape as he heaves out desperate breaths of air. 
Your eyes look to him when you hear his incredibly forceful moans, watching as white ropes shoot from his tip. They ooze out of him, thick and wet as they slide down his shaft. His foreskin moves with every tug Frankie’s hand gives, his sticky-white release making a mess on his hand. 
“Frankie…” you’ve never seen him like this, so vulnerable and soft. 
Jack smiles, a chuckle bouncing the muscles in his chest. He looks over at Frankie, too. “Damn Francisco, I knew you had it bad for her.” 
Jack’s pace doesn’t falter, almost immediately returning his gaze to you. The hand on your ass slides forward, fingers digging into your hip as he pounds you into the mattress. 
“And he’s not the only one that sees you like this, sugar.” he tells you, determined for you to know just how captivating you truly are. “I see how other men look at you. You’re a fucking goddess, baby, a goddamn angel. And you’re mine, you’re fucking mine; do you know how lucky I am?” 
“Daddy,” you cry out, feeling him plunge repeatedly into your core. “I love you.” 
Jack truly is enamored with you, he’s obsessed with you; he’s never met anyone like you. 
“I love you, sweetheart, daddy loves you.” and then he spits again, wetting your little hole even more. 
“Fuck me!” 
Once you say this, he feels your heated walls squeeze him tight, the act of it so forceful it makes him throb inside. And that’s how he knows he’s struck gold. 
“Yeah? Right there?” 
“Right there!” you groan out enthusiastically. 
And Frankie sighs, out of breath but lifting his head so he can continue to watch you. Jesus Christ, Jack’s right, you’re a fucking goddess. 
Jack leans forward a bit, stilling the motions of his finger inside you while he now focuses on moving his hips. “Is daddy still hittin’ it, sugar? Huh, babycakes? Is daddy still hittin’ your sweet spot?” 
“Ye-es,” it’s a stuttered whine, one said while pinching your eyes shut as he repeatedly punches himself into you. 
“It’s okay honey, just relax.” he can feel your body tensing, and he’s more than thrilled to let you experience your second high. “Let daddy make you feel good… relax for me…”
“Mm,”
“I know, baby; it’s hard to relax when daddy’s inside you, huh?”
“Daddy,”
“Oh… I know that whine.” he grunts out with a self-assured smirk. “Let daddy feel it, baby. He gives you permission, he wants you to do it.” 
With eager anticipation in his eyes, Frankie watches as you unravel before your husband. Jack continues to split you open on his length, rocking your body with each harsh shove. And when he allows you to let go, to fall apart on your shared bed for him, you suck in an airy gasp. As if on command, you finally crumble, back arching and legs shaking as your lover forces another orgasm out from within you. 
“Daddy!”
“Fuck me…” Jack bares his teeth, the muscles in his chest and stomach flexing. 
He tears his finger from you, using both hands to keep your body against him. Pushing forward, he grinds his hips into you, keeping pressure on that delicate, spongy spot inside you. It prolongs your high, your eyes shut as your lips part, just barely drooling from the euphoria shuttering through your body. And when Jack grinds against you, he cums too. The feeling of your soft curves pressing against his pelvis, the sensation of your heated inner channel gripping him so tight, it takes the breath from his lungs, the beat from his heart, now fully unraveling above you. 
“B-Baby,” he chokes out, hands squeezing your hips with force. 
The sensation rocks through him as he releases into you, leaning forward and placing a hand on your lower back to steady himself. He’s breathing heavily behind you, muscles tensing as his hips jerk harshly against you. That part always made you smile, always made you tingle inside. It’s like his body was fully giving in, unable to hold back its arousal and desire, his pelvis rutting into you in sharp, jagged motions. It’s desperate, raw, and something you get to experience with him almost every day. 
“Baby…”
“Daddy,” you respond breathily, reaching back with a single arm. He takes your hand, rubbing a thumb over the top of it. 
Grunting, he pulls out of you slowly, watching his softening cock slide out from your warm and welcoming sex. Both of Jack’s large palms then slide over your ass, spreading your cheeks so he can watch your pretty pussy flutter. 
“Lay down, baby doll.” he coos to you, leaning over your body to place soft kisses on your back. “Let me get a towel for you.” 
The moment turns incredibly soft. Frankie can so clearly see the love Jack has for you. And for an incredibly selfish reason, that only makes his envy grow. It’s one thing if Jack didn’t treat you right; then, in Frankie’s mind, he’d have reason to wish you were his. He’d have reason to believe he could treat you better than him. But Jack doesn't treat you bad, nowhere even close to it. Frankie hates to admit it, but Jack treats you better than he ever could. And that’s because the two of you are made for each other, that’s more than obvious now. 
Be that as it may, it didn’t suppress the attraction Frankie has toward you. You’re still as sexy as ever, even more so now. He can’t help but feel that way about you, he just can’t fucking help it. 
When Jack comes back, he’s holding three towels instead of two. They’re all slightly damp, and he sets a couple on the edge of the bed. Frankie looks over at him, watching as Jack nods and lifts the towel in his direction. 
“Frank?” he calls lightly, tossing the washcloth his way.
Frankie reaches out to catch it, nodding while he utters a small yet grateful, thanks. 
“Come here, beautiful.” 
You’d followed Jack’s direction, allowing yourself to lay down on the bed. Crawling forward, Jack smiles as you turn over for him, now resting on your back. Instinctively, you open your legs for him, sighing gracefully when you feel him drag the wet rag over your center. 
In the corner of the room, Frankie’s cleaning himself off, too. He wipes down his hand, cleaning his fingers before moving to his shaft. He’d gotten some dribbles of cum on the lower part of his shirt. Fuck, gonna have to dry clean this. 
Jack kisses your cheek and neck as he does this, humming softly when he feels you smile. Your hands brush through his hair until he’s done, pulling away to wipe himself off. 
Closing your eyes, you revel in this moment. This has honestly been one of the most exciting nights of your life. And you feel safe, comfortable, being around two men that you trust. You and Jack wouldn’t have done this around just anyone, and who knows if it will ever happen again. All you know is you enjoyed it, and it feels like the entire thing has brought you and your husband closer together, if that were even possible. 
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He’d been nervous, unsure at first, just like he was before all of it began. But Frankie was a friend to not only Jack but you, too. It was late, and he was tired, you weren’t just going to kick him out. So, you both offered for Frankie to stay in the guest room. He could make himself comfortable, use the guest bath to freshen up, too. And after considering your offer, analyzing both yours and Jack’s kind faces, he agreed. 
“Hi, Frankie.” you greet softly, watching him meander out of his room. 
You’d gotten up before the two of them, a rare occurrence for you. Jack usually was the first one to wake, but apparently, last night really took it out of him. Once you’d convinced Frankie to rest in the spare room, Jack returned his lips to your body, covering you in delicate, affectionate kisses. You showered together, washing each other’s bodies lovingly before drying off and cuddling up in bed. He kissed your head, whispering sweet things to you before he fell asleep. And you drifted off just before he did, sighing contentedly in his arms. 
“Hey,” Frankie returns, his bedhead and sleepy smile absolutely adorable as he walks over to you. 
Sitting down, you offer him some coffee, which he happily takes. You’d worried how things would feel between the three of you the morning after all of that went down, but right now, it feels normal, comfortable. 
“Um, thank you.” he suddenly blurts out, staring at the mug in his hands before looking up at you. “For last night. I, I felt kind of honored… to see you like that, both of you like that.”
You giggle slightly. “What do you mean?”
“You’re a beautiful woman.” he admits openly, feeling free to express his emotions. “But it was… different than I expected. It was hot, definitely hot,” again, you giggle. “But… I don’t know, you guys just really love each other. Thank you for letting me see that.” 
“Awe, Frankie.” you smile, your heart beating affectionately. 
Reaching forward, you gently grab his hand. “I hope you know we love you, too. You’re one of our closest friends, Frankie; we wouldn’t have done that with just anyone, we did it because we trust you. And we really hope what happened last night doesn’t change any of that.” 
He ponders his response, only for a moment before he shakes his head. “I don’t think so.” Frankie really appreciates what you just said. 
“Good.” 
Before anything else is said, your husband finally joins the two of you once he gets out of bed. His messy hair is also adorable, walking out into the kitchen in just a pair of sweats. You admire his body, his toned chest, his slightly softening stomach, those sculpted arms, the tawny skin of his neck; it makes you want to jump on him all over again. 
“Hi, baby.”
“Good mornin’, honey.” he grins, leaning down to give you a kiss. He then addresses his friend. “How you doin’, Frankie? You hungry?” 
“Oh, no.  I should get going soon, anyway.” Frankie doesn’t want to be a burden. 
Jack shrugs, “Your loss. I’m makin’ pancakes.” 
Frankie just smiles. He’ll stay, but only because the air between your small group is making him feel relaxed and secure. He really did appreciate last night, and he appreciates the friendship he has with the two of you. You with your kind heart and sassy words, Jack with his casual and usually merry personality, Frankie likes those things about the two of you. And it’s clear nothing has changed. 
None of you are sure where your intimate afterparty came from, but you do know it was rooted entirely in the boys’ personalities. For Frankie, he finds it hard to not be attracted to you, to both your physique and your psyche. And for Jack, he finds it hard to not show his love for you. In every sense of the word, you’re the love of Jack’s life. You’re the person he’s promised himself to, the one he’ll take care of as long as he has a soul to. And if Frankie’s going to stick around, he’ll have to respect that. And he will, as long as it means he gets to keep his friendship with the two of you. 
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pickled-flowers · 11 days
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I JUST SAW A BAT
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ponku-po · 9 months
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Invasion - Egil_Art/Cadillac-Dynamite
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nattaphum · 8 months
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New wonderful Man Suang poster by Vogue 🖤
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m4ctavish · 1 year
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alejandro vargas — in sickness and health.
masterlist.
pairing : alejandro vargas/gn! reader
desc : how alejandro would take care of his s/o when they’re under the weather!
alejandro vargas :
from the get go, i want to say that alejandro is going to do everything within his ability to make you feel better!
whatever you need, he’ll get it for you
this man is the king of home remedies. tea is normally the first thing he’ll go with since it can quite literally help with anything. it warms the bones and helps you relax, might even help you sleep if you feel restless.
ALTERNATIVELY. he may break out the vicks vapor rub. there’s nothing that stuff can’t fix. he’d massage some in to the center of your chest, careful not to apply too much pressure. perhaps some on the soles of your feet before making you put some socks on lol (you haven’t truly lived until you’ve had vicks put up your nose and rubbed on your chest)
i like to imagine that he’d also make you something to eat if you wanted him to, possibly caldo de pollo, chicken noodle, or tomato soup if you’d prefer. he feels that soups are a good way to make anyone feel better when they’re sick or just not feeling too hot in general.
if you’d prefer that he stay in bed with you and keep you company, he can definitely do that. sometimes you just need the presence of another person and he’s happy to provide that (if you have the cold, flu, etc. he doesn’t care if he gets sick— he can just tough it out)
if you’ve got joint pain, cramps, or anything of that nature, he’ll try to alleviate your pain as much as possible (typically with warmth so either a warm bottle of water or maybe some layered blankets— perhaps a heated blanket) i imagine he has one of those like, THICK blankets that seal in heat if placed on top of another blanket
if you have a fever but feel cold and layer blankets, he’ll chastise you for it. he understands that your body is actively fighting against you and you may feel cold but layering up too much is going to make it harder for your fever to go down.
if he’s busy throughout the day while you’re sick or in pain, he’ll come and check in on you when he can. he’ll ask if there’s anything you need or want or if you just want him to stay with you a bit before he has to leave.
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stressghoul · 1 year
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girl how dare u he fell and ur laughing
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rheasbrvtality · 4 months
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OH MY GOD-
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