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userlando · 1 year

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a different light — max verstappen

max verstappen x fem!reader [6.9k] summary: you weren’t just friends. friends didn’t touch you the way he did (or the one where max has an epiphany and realizes he's in love with his best friend) warnings: 18+ explicit smut, idiots in love, friends to lovers a/n: idk what it is with me and writing fics at work, but here i am again. i had SO much fun writing this so I hope you enjoy reading this ♡

Max hadn’t experienced many moments where he felt true and utter bliss, especially when he was growing up. His home life made it hard, and he’d rejected any type of positive feelings for a long time until you came along. You’d been a force to be reckoned with, matching Max’s energy so well that it wasn’t hard to build a solid friendship that would last for as long as it did.

He found comfort in your soft skin, in your reassuring smile. Even in the way your voice would get all high pitched when you told a white lie. You’d been his one true pillar when his career went from karting to racing, becoming a known household name in the chaos of it all. You’d kept his feet on the ground when he needed it most, and there was no amount of money to ever repay you for everything you’d done for him, and you vice versa.

So, he found comfort in a lot of things when it came to you. But you, sitting close to him when you had so many seats and chairs to choose from? That was everything.

You had claimed the two-seater for yourselves, but it didn’t stop you from snuggling right up to your best friend’s side with his arm around you and your head comfortably resting on his pectoral. It was a common occurence, you so deeply embedded in his arms that it might as well have been a permanent shape of you on his skin. Max had grown up with you, so he'd basically memorized the smell of your shampoo that you'd used since you were fifteen, the freckles and moles on your face and how goosebumps rose on your skin at the slightest cold breeze because that's who you were.

He'd naively thought it to be normal, to be so in tune with his best friend and it wasn't until he'd entered early adulthood and actually spent time with his friends on the grid that he realized that maybe it wasn't usual.

He still remembered the day he'd brought you along for the Baku Grand Prix and you'd mentioned being childhood friends in a passing conversation, registering the sheer looks of confusion coming from his friends. It had made him flush, a little embarrassed and a little confused until Daniel had hooked an arm around his shoulders and murmured I've been going around for three months thinking she was your girlfriend, man.

Max had shoved his friend and pulled a face, the usual ‘gross, she’s like a sister’ phrase on his tongue that he couldn’t quite bring himself to say. But it had stuck with him for the rest of that day, and the more he thought about it, the more Daniel was probably right in thinking so.

Max couldn't pinpoint what exactly had shifted after that day, but he knew that something had changed. He became hyper aware of your touches and lingering looks, your ability to flirt but still toe the line of it being a little too inappropriate.

Sharing hotel rooms became weird, and it dawned on Max that maybe the two of you were acting a little too much like a couple when he found himself in bed with you snoring by his side, Daniel's words still haunting him like a ghost at the corner of the king sized bed.

He’d stared at your face in the dark for an hour, the street lights doing a good job of contouring your face in the dark and he’d felt a knot in his stomach when you’d shifted in your slumber and reached for something. He hadn’t realized what you looked for until you placed your hand on his arm.

Not grabbing. Just… setting it there like you needed his comfort even in your sleep. Such a simple gesture that had shook your best friend to the core.

The Aussie made it, along with Lando, his life's mission to send looks and make comments after that race weekend in Baku.

That was eight months ago, and they clearly had no intention of stopping as you sat in the backyard of Carlos' family vacation home in Palma de Mallorca, surrounded by drivers and their partners alike. You’d been there for two days, the relaxation already blanketing your group the more you spent time in the ocean and dozed in the loungers. The nights consisted of card games, drinking games and bonfires until someone had the stupid idea to go for a dip in the sea that just so happened to be in your backyard.

You'd been dozing tonight, finding it hard to stay awake with the way Max's fingers absentmindedly drew patterns up and down your drawn up legs.

The sun had clearly done its number on you during the day, draining every bit of energy you’d had. Heat and humidity always did that to you, so it wasn’t a surprise that you’d find the comfort of your best friend’s embrace the moment everyone sat down and curl up much like a cat.

The rhythm of his chest was enough to lull you into a sense of security, watching your group of friends across the table as they played Uno with the occassional accusation and shouts that came with playing the card game.

It had been Charles' idea to play it, clearly wanting to see the world burn as he put a group of competitive people into a game of Uno. It had been great entertainment though, your lips curled into a permanent amused smile as you watched on in silence.

Lando pulled a draw four card, setting it down with a grin and Carlos cursed in Spanish, clearly annoyed as he shoved the curly haired boy. A ripple of laughter tore through the group at the display, and you figured that it wasn't long before the game would dissolve into angry arguments.

"You can't beat the master of Uno." Lando said, clearly looking to agitate the Spaniard as the black haired man picked up an additional four cards to his already stacked hand.

"You've lost the last four games, mate." Charles muttered into his glass, taking a sip of his icy margarita for good measure.

"My luck is turning, mate.” Lando flipped him off, earning laughter from Pierre and George. “Get off my back."

You watched them bicker, thoughts stuttering to a halt when Max shifted beneath you. He drew the hand that had been on your legs up, ruffling your hair gently and you glanced up at him.

"Have you fallen asleep on me yet?" He asked quietly, for your ears only and you grinned sleepily, the perfect picture of comfortable.

“Not yet.” You muttered, covering your mouth as a yawn took you by surprise and Max smiled in amusement.

“Do you wanna go for a walk?” He glanced up at the boys when their voices picked up volume. “Get out before this becomes massacre.”

You laughed, nodding your head in agreement and letting him pull you up. No one really noticed as you slipped away, or if they did, they didn’t question it.

The voices of your friends faded into the background the further you got away from the house, grass and gravel transformed into cobblestones leading up to the town and further from the ocean.

“It’s so pretty here.” You mused, looking down the cobbled path, lit up by street lamps. “I’d love to live some place like this, some day.”

Max’s brows furrowed, following your gaze before looking at you questioningly.

“You basically do.” He said, humourous lilt to his voice. “Mooching off of me, living it up in Monaco.”

It would’ve made you feel self-conscious and even a little embarrassed if those words had come from anyone else but Max, but you’d been friends for so long that you knew when he was joking and when he was being serious. And in this case, it was the former. It was evident in the teasing smile and his light voice, aside from the fact that he’d always find a way to rebook your flight and beg you to stay for a few more days. As if you hadn’t been with him for a week already, as if you didn’t attend nearly every race because he claimed that he didn’t want anyone else around but you.

You were aware that it wasn’t a normal friendship, what the two of you had. And you knew that people thought it to be unbelievable that you weren’t romantically involved, some days you questioned that yourself. But that was a whole can of worms that you weren’t ready to crack open just yet. It felt too dangerous.

“I’ll be out of your hair soon.” You said, voice airy as you tossed your hair over your shoulder and skipped a step forward before turning and walking backwards in front of Max. He arched a confused brow, almost disappearing under his cap and the sight was a little too funny. “As soon as I find another man to live off of. Preferably handsome and rich.”

You were kidding, obviously, but the thought still made something sour well up in Max’s throat and he struggled to not frown in annoyance. He looked away, making it seem as if he was admiring the ocean view that he could barely see in the dark, when he was in fact trying to shield his face from your attentive eyes.

“Shouldn’t be too hard.” He said, cursing himself when his voice shook. It was so minimal though and you thankfully didn’t call him out on it. ”I mean, look at you.”

There was an awkward silence seeping into the space between you and you tried to maintain the aloof expression on your face but it was hard when your stomach was doing weird flip flops. Look at you.

“And also,” Max continued, rushing to fill the silence and break the sudden and rare awkwardness. “You’ve got me as your wingman.”

That made you laugh, and something like relief flooded Max’s stomach.

“Wingman? Right.” You turned, walking ahead of him and the boy frowned at the disbelieving tone in your voice.

“What do you mean? I’m an excellent wingman.” He jogged up to catch up with you, slinging an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in.

It always amused him how you stumbled into his embrace whenever he did that, always so caught off guard but never once doubting that he’d be there to keep you upright. It was his favourite thing to do, mainly because you’d grumble and peer up at him with your eyes and Max would grin like the close proximity didn’t make him want to vomit with how much he craved to press his lips to yours. Just to see what it’d be like.

“Max,” you rolled your eyes. “No one ever dares to approach me when you’re by my side. You’re like a guard dog.”

“What?” He pulled back a little to look at your face, still keeping his arm around you. “I’m not! What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You scare off every single man!” Your voice went high in amusement and something else that he couldn't put his finger on. At Max’s furrowed brows, you sucked your teeth in exasperation and continued, “Last weekend, we were out in Monaco, remember? Two guys approached me, and you just magically seemed to show up and stake your claim. You might as well have peed all over me.”

The furrow between Max’s eyebrows seemed to deepen, feeling a little lost all of a sudden because you sounded genuinely upset and he didn’t know what to do with that.

“That's disgusting. And I wasn’t staking anything.” Max grumbled when the silence stretched on. “They were idiots anyway. Who wears sunglasses inside a club? At night?"

The both of you stared at each other as you walked and you couldn’t help but let out a giggle that broke the sudden tension. Just the sound of it made Max relax a little from where he'd suddenly gone tense.

“He was kind of a loser, wasn’t he?” You agreed, because it was true. “But you still scare every guy off.”

Okay, so maybe he did. And he’d done so unintentionally until last year before his feelings for you started to enter dangerous territory. Whereas before, he’d genuinely think that the guys you dated were total idiots, now he’d find a way to glare and act standoffish until the men took that as a sign and bailed.

“Sorry.” He said, but he really wasn’t. And you clearly didn’t believe he was sincere, judging by the arched brows on your forehead. “What? I am.”

You didn’t say anything to that, because you weren’t really upset about the fact that Max managed to chase men off whenever they got close to you. It was just the fact that he ran them off and then continued to act as if his actions didn’t have any hidden motives.

There was clearly something between the two of you, and it scared you but it also made you want more. Max was just too much of a wuss to act out on it, and so were you, in a way.

You didn’t know how many hints you could dish out before it got borderline ridiculous. Max didn't need a push, he needed a shove.

The both of you took a walk around the small village before circling back home. A few had retired to bed already, and you found Daniel, Pierre and Lando lounging around by the outdoor fireplace. Lando clocked the both of you walking into the backyard, looking a little suspicious and you shot him a questioning glance.

“Welcome back, children.” The man himself greeted, earning a flick to the head by Max in passing. He yelped, making you laugh as you sat down by Pierre.

“We’re older than you, idiot.” You pointed out and Max made a hum in agreement, looking around with a small frown.

It was ridiculous how he all of a sudden felt a little lost when you didn’t immediately go for a seat that held two people. You always managed to find a seat right next to Max, even going as far as sitting in his lap when he was in a chair; neither of you pointing out the fact that there were other seats to choose from.

But now you’d sat next to Pierre, and he felt something ugly bloom in his chest when the man in question draped a friendly arm over the backrest. You were good friends with the Frenchman, and he had a girlfriend but it still made Max annoyed.

He reluctantly sat in a chair when he realised that he’d lingered for too long, trying to tune into the conversation that had gone on for the whole time he’d gotten lost in his head.

You’d noticed, of course you had, there was no one as in tune with Max Verstappen as you were. It made you feel a smidge of glee because it was just further confirmation that whatever was going on between the two of you wasn’t friends being friends.

And it only seemed to solidify when Max looked your way, a hundred emotions shining in his eyes as he glared daggers at Pierre and his harmless arm. You arched an eyebrow, silently and innocently asking him what was wrong.

You watched Max shift in his seat.

“So, where’s Kika, Pierre?” He asked, the question coming out of the blue and you almost rolled your eyes, trying not to react when Daniel and Lando’s conversation trailed off to look at the three of you.

Pierre touched your shoulder with a finger, a tap that conveyed so much and you hid a smile by biting your cheek. Leave it to Pierre to read a room and embody the innocent and clueless man perfectly in order to help you.

“She’s sleeping.” He replied easily, kindly. “Had a little too much to drink. Which reminds me…” He trailed off and turned his head to look at you. “She wanted me to remind you of your plans tomorrow.”

“What plans?” Max asked before you had a chance to reply.

“We’re just going to a boutique we came across. It looked cute,” you smiled. “It was closed when we walked by today. But they had these nice bikinis I wanted to get my hands on.”

Lando looked up at the mention of bikinis, a smarmy smile that told you exactly what he’d say before he even opened his mouth.

“Can I come?” He asked, making Daniel cackle.

You stretched your leg out to kick his shin, grinning at his cheekiness. Lando dodged your kick just barely, a smile of his own stretching his lips.

“You’re being weird.” Max said, giving the British boy a look that looked an awful lot like a warning. It didn’t deter Lando though, not like it’d make a grown man running if it were aimed at a stranger.

The curly haired boy only rolled his eyes, a playful air to him as he glanced between you and Max.

“I’m being weird, sure.” He said. “Not as weird as you two sharing a bed.”

A hot flush traveled up your spine and reached your cheeks when Pierre and Daniel laughed, like they were trying to hold it in but couldn’t. You had half a mind to reach over the table and strangle your friend who looked way too smug to have aired out the one thing everyone probably had thought at least once, but never said out loud.

You and Max shared a glance, expecting him to look embarrassed but he looked smug and you didn’t know why your stomach rolled at the sight. He looked… hot. Confidence had always looked good on Max.

“At least I have someone to share a bed with, dipshit.” He stretched out his hand to pinch Lando, making everyone laugh. “Can’t say the same for you.”

“Oh, ha!” Lando raised his voice in a fake laugh, face scrunched up adorably sarcastic. “Ha, ha, you’re so funny, Max. Maybe you should consider being a comedian instead of the insufferable driver that you are.”

“Maybe then you’d have a chance to get podium.” Max said around a laugh and it took exactly two seconds before everyone started hollering and cackling, Lando standing up to deliver half-assed punches and nips at the laughing Dutchman who tried to dodge the incoming attacks.

You watched with an amused smile as they scuffled, both red in the face from laughter and shouts. There was no way that they wouldn’t end up waking up everyone in the house, so you stood up and ushered Lando away from Max with a laugh.

“You’re both children.” You pointed your finger at Lando when he took a step back.

“Still more mature than you.” Lando said, not maturely at all and you smiled in amusement.

“That's a fucking lie, mate.” Daniel scoffed, laughter in his voice and Lando turned around to give him a piece of his mind.

You watched them dish out insults at each other that really sounded a lot like friendly love in disguise, startling a little when you suddenly felt arms circle your waist. A yelp left your lips when you were pulled into Max’s lap, twisting until you could look at him.

The closeness of his face caught you off guard, the blue in his eyes so striking with the fireplace reflecting in them. You draped both legs over his lap, making yourself comfortable with a shy smile.

“Hi.” He greeted you softly once you’d settled down.

“Hello.” Your breath stuttered a little when he brushed his fingers against your waist, skin against skin where your tank top had ridden up.

“I think that’s our cue to go to bed.” Daniel said quietly, but loud enough for you to hear and look at him.

Lando shot him a look, eyebrows raising when both Daniel and Pierre stood up.

“I’m not tired? You go —“ He halted his words when Daniel glared at him. “Right. Whatever.”

The boys stood up, bidding you goodnight and kisses to your head before disappearing inside. You watched them through the sliding doors as they shoved each other and laughed, vanishing around a corner. Max squeezed your side and you glanced at him.

“What?” You asked when you spotted the smile that so badly wanted to break out on his face, narrowing your eyes suspiciously.

“You were trying to make me jealous.” He said, not as a question but as a sure statement. You rolled your eyes and tried to steady your breathing when he leaned forward to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck, his hot puffs of breath making goosebumps rise on your skin.

You squirmed when his beard tickled you, shoving halfheartedly on his shoulder but he didn’t budge. He pressed his lips against your pulse point and you knew that was it; he could definitely feel your racing pulse, there was no way he couldn’t.

“Well, it worked.” You replied belatedly, voice a lot weaker and shakier than you would’ve liked it to be.

Max didn’t say anything of it, though you could feel his lips move as he smiled into your throat.

“It did.” He confessed quietly, feeling your pulse jump beneath his lips. “I wanted to break Pierre’s fingers.”

He touched your shoulder where the Frenchman had previously touched you, like he was wiping off evidence of any man but himself. It made something coil tightly in your stomach, and you struggled to not squirm in your best friend’s lap.

“That would be unwise.” You whispered, glancing over at the house where there was no sign of life.

You didn’t know how you’d explain it away, if someone were to walk back out and find the two of you in this position. You, in his lap with your arm wound around his shoulder and Max under you, pressed so close in every way. It would certainly be hard to convince anyone you were just friends after this.

But you weren’t just friends. Friends didn’t touch you the way he did, with his hand stroking the skin over your collarbone, trailing a path down the cup of your tank top and feeling the swell of your breast. Your heart was thundering in your chest, eyes locked on his hand as it mapped out every inch of your skin; fingers stroking down between your tits before he opened the palm of his hand to slide it over your ribs, almost cupping your heaving chest. You almost wished that he did, every inch of your body aching to be defiled by the very same man you’d called your best friend for years.

“Breathe.” He murmured against your throat and you realised that you’d been holding your breath, a rush of air escaping your mouth as you willed yourself to relax.

“Max.” Your brows furrowed, arching your back a little and pushing your chest closer to him.

He said your name, the sound of it so beautifully intimate and hot on his tongue that it almost made you whine. Your thoughts were a jumbled mess in your head, making it hard for you to think of anything other than his hand. The very same hand that caressed your ribs, fingers spanning out until he brushed your nipple. You inhaled sharply at the twinge of pain when he went over it again, making out the shape of it through the thin material of your top and circling it teasingly just so he could hear your stuttered and laboured breaths.

“You sound so pretty for me.” He spoke against your skin, welcoming the twinge of pain when you pulled at his hair slightly.

The whispered compliment lit your body on fire, made your hand tighten in his hair so you could push his face against your neck. He seemed to get the memo, opening his mouth to latch onto the sensitive skin there and suck. The combination of suction and the sharp pain of his thumb and forefinger pinching your nipple made you moan, the loudness of the sound catching you off guard.

“Fuck!” You cursed when he rolled the bud between his fingers, enjoying the way you squirmed; like you weren’t sure whether to push into or away from him.

You glanced up at the sky, trying to focus on the light of the stars but there was no stopping the way your eyes rolled when he bit into your skin where he’d been sucking a nasty mark into it, flattening his tongue out to lave over it. Almost like he wanted to soothe the sting.

“This isn’t weird, is it?” You asked breathlessly, even though you both knew the answer to that.

“Does it feel weird?” He countered, pulling away and you blinked down at him; struck by the absolute need in his face.

It was the first time you’d seen his face since you sat down, taking in the saliva on his lip and the blown out pupils. He looked good enough to eat and you couldn’t help but lean forward to kiss him, licking into his mouth the way you'd thought of doing for the last year.

He welcomed it with gusto, pulling away for a swift second to gauge your reaction. Max must’ve liked what he saw on your face because he dove right back, claiming your lips in a bruising kiss that had you moaning from your throat.

“Been thinking about this for a long time now.” Max confessed when you both let up for air, staring at each other through hooded lids and bruised lips.

“Me too.” You said, pushing his hair back softly. “So long.”

He kissed you again, like he couldn’t help it and you let him claim your lips however he pleased before he trailed down your jawline, sucking a few more hickeys down the side of your neck for good measure. You pushed your chest out when he neared the swell of them, watching how he pulled your top down just enough to get a better look at your tits.

Max stared at them, marvelling at the sight before the need to have his mouth on them became too great. A whimper tumbled from your lips when he sucked and licked until your skin turned raw, giving the other nipple the very same treatment.

“Oh, what the fuck?” A voice exclaimed and you jumped, turning to shield yourself from whoever had decided to turn up unannounced.

Max hurried to pull up your tank top, shooting you a glance before he leaned to the side and peered around you at the same time you looked over your shoulder. George had his back turned to you, one hand on his waist and face turned toward the sky. You couldn’t see his face, but the exasperation was clear as day in his body language.

“You guys are fucking gross.” He said and you bit your lips together to stop from laughing.

“What the fuck do you want, Russell?” Max asked, clearly annoyed that you’d been interrupted and you smoothed a thumb over the crease on his forehead.

“I forgot my phone, asshole.” He replied, agitated. “Are you guys decent?”

“Yes, you drama queen.” You rolled your eyes and watched him turn around.

There was a grimace etched on his face as he walked forward, sticking his hand down between the couch cushions until he fished out his phone. George stood upright, and there was a moment of awkwardness as you all looked at each other.

“Congratulations on finally coming to your senses.” He said finally, saluting you and walking backwards. “But please don’t shag on the patio furniture, we still have a week left and I don’t think Carlos would like an ass print on the cushions.”

“Why don’t you come over here and kiss my ass?” Max flipped him off with no real heat and you laughed.

“No thanks,” he grinned as he reached the sliding doors. “I’ll leave that to your girl.”

A silence filled the air after George made his exit and you slowly turned around, mentally preparing yourself for the onslaught of prodding questions that would surely come in the morning. George could never keep his mouth shut, enjoying chaos where it wasn’t necessary and you’d been friends with everyone long enough to know that it only took one person for word to spread like wildfire.

“It could’ve been worse.” Max said, who’d been sitting silently and regarding the faraway look in your eyes. It never ceased to amaze you how easily he could read you.

“Don’t remind me.” You widened your eyes at him, a smile overtaking your face when you saw the sparkle of humour in his eyes. “Maybe we should…”

You trailed off, hoping he’d take the hint because the sudden embarrassment kept you from finish the sentence. What would you even say? Maybe we should go to bed so we can finish what we started?

Max seemed to pick up what you were putting down, as he always did. He gave you a nod, face soft with reassurance as he cupped your face in his hand, brushing a few strands of your hair away from your face.

“Are we good?” He asked, and you took a good look at him; noting the slight worry in his eyes and you realised that while he was reassuring you, he needed a little reassurance of his own.

You placed a hand over his, giving him a gentle nod with a smile. His eyes fluttered shut when you leaned over to peck his lips, placing a kiss on his stubbled cheek for good measure.

“We’re more than good.” You gave another nod, climbing out of his lap and reaching both your hands out so he could grab them. “Take me to bed, Max.”

He made a show of groaning loudly until you laughed, hauling him up and dragging him across the lawn. You preened under his wandering hands as he crowded your space from behind, plastering his front to your back and winding his arms around you.

“Stop that.” You hissed when he buried his face in the crook of your neck, making loud and lewd noises until it tickled you.

“But you’re so soft.” He complained, sliding both hands up your sides and under your top, fingers grazing your under boob.

You squirmed but made no real effort to push him away, opening the sliding doors and walking inside with a little difficulty. The both of you got as far as the living area before Max turned you around and kissed you, rendering you useless to stop him or protest. You could feel his mouth stretch into a smirk, like he knew what he was doing and you didn’t have the heart to make any effort to scold him even as he backed you into the sofa. A loud yelp left your lips when the backs of your knees hit the sofa, accompanied by his startled shout when you both went tumbling down on the furniture with him over you.

“That wasn’t nearly as sexy as they make it out to be in the movies.” You complained, watching Max smile down at you. He adjusted the both of you until you had your legs around him, testing the waters by grinding down on you and your mouth dropped open when you felt the hardness of his cock against your crotch. “Oh, hello.”

Max exhaled, like he was relieved to finally take some pressure off by grinding against you and you angled your hips to meet his thrusts, keeping your eyes on his to watch as his face went through a hundred of different emotions. You were struggling though, the rough denim of his shorts against your cotton ones felt deliciously nice and it was becoming increasingly harder to keep quiet.

“I’d sometimes lie awake and imagine what you’d sound like.” Max murmured quietly, teeth bearing down on his lower lip when you gripped his shoulders a little harder. He ground down, listening to you whine high in your throat. “I’d fantasise what you looked like when you came.”

You dug your heels into his ass, silently telling him to keep going because a few minutes more of his incessant thrusting and he’d have you coming. Max kissed down your jawline, sucking tiny little marks into the skin that he knew you’d give him shit for when your mind had cleared, but it was the thought of your friends seeing your bruised skin that worked him up into a frenzy. He wanted, needed to show everyone that you were his. Fuck Pierre and his wandering hands, and Daniel who’d smugly smiled at him from across the paddock all those times.

He’d show them.

“You gonna make that reality, my love?” He was getting close, voice losing its edge as he spoke the words into your clavicle. He bit the thin skin there until you keened, digging your blunt nails into his shoulders. “Gonna show me what you look like when you come?”

“Yes, yes, yes…” your words were becoming jumbled, making these high noises from your chest that seized Max by the throat.

He didn’t think you were even aware of how loud you were becoming, but he’d be damned to stop you. It reminded him of the same noises you’d make when you’d take a quick dip into a cold ocean and he’d splash you just for the sake of it. You’d make this high pitched, whiny noise like the chill of the water took your breath away. It was mesmerising and so fucking hot that Max couldn’t help but grind down one last time and shoot off into his shorts, a throaty moan in your ear that sent you over the edge as well.

He forced himself to watch your face as it scrunched up, mouth hanging open as you gasped for breath, body seized up beneath him as you both ground against each other in an effort to bring you back down from your highs.

“Fuck, this is gross.” Max scrunched his nose up as he looked down between you. You peered down with a breathless giggle, noting the spot in his shorts that had seeped onto yours.

He looked up at you at the sound of your laughter, face relaxing when he saw your smiling eyes and hot cheeks. The sun had been good to you, kissing your skin so beautifully that he hadn’t been able to tear his eyes away from you for a second since you got here.

“I can’t believe we just humped like a couple of teens.” You said it with laughter in your voice, but Max could spot the shy tilt of your brows and there was something oddly endearing about it. "In Carlos's family home." You said the last part in a mortified whisper, like the reality of it was dawning on you.

“Should’ve done that sooner.” He joked and you laughed, slapping his shoulder.

Max dropped his weight on you as sudden exhaustion seeped into his body, and you grunted. You wound your arms around him though, ignoring the messes you’d made between you for the sake of a cuddle. Your fingers drew little patterns on his back, like you knew Max loved, and he almost purred at the feeling.

“We should probably go to bed.” You said quietly.

“Yeah.” He said, but neither of you made any effort to move.

The grandfather clock was ticking away in the corner, almost like background music, and you were almost lulled to sleep by Max’s steady breathing. Your eyes opened when he suddenly moved above you, having sensed that you were two seconds from falling asleep when your hands stopped moving on his back.

“Okay,” he sighed heavily and stood up with a grimace, wobbling a little. You smiled slowly when he offered you his hands, pulling you up. “Time for bed.”

“I’m getting déjà vu.” You referred to an hour ago when you’d declared bedtime, only to end up a few meters away on the couch instead.

Max laughed, pulling you along toward the stairs and guiding you down a narrow hallway.

The morning after went as well as you’d imagine, waking up with Max snoozing quietly on his stomach with his hands shoved underneath the pillow. You’d ghosted a kiss on his cheek before getting up to get ready for the day. Sharing a room with Max during all the years had made you stealthy enough to perform your routines without him waking up, but it could also be because he slept like a rock and not even pans and pots in the hands of Lando and Daniel could bring him out of his dead sleep.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Daniel greeted you when you stepped foot into the kitchen, pulling everyone’s eyes toward you and you smiled awkwardly.

“Hi? Hey.” You carefully avoided George’s eyes as you walked around the counter, patting Heidi on the back in a silent greeting.

The look she gave you had your hackles rising a bit, but you pushed the paranoia away because surely George hadn’t gone and blabbed already? It was only - you looked at the clock - nine in the morning. Christ.

Charlotte handed you a mug of steaming coffee and you wordlessly took it, taking a small sip. “Thank you.”

Conversation picked back up again as you went on the hunt for toast, popping them in the toaster and pouring another cup of coffee for Max who’d probably woken up by now. Francisca talked about the boutique you’d be going to, waving Pierre off with a playful hand when he tried to invite himself into your girls day.

There was a slight lull in the chaos of three conversations happening in the space of the kitchen, and it wasn’t hard to figure out that Max had finally joined the party. You turned your head and almost smiled at his hair, wet from a shower and sticking up in all directions. He looked sleepy still, a little bleary eyed but he still managed to find you in the gaggle of people.

It warmed your heart a lot more than you’d like to admit when you watched his eyes light up as they settled on you, murmuring good morning’s and patting backs as he made a beeline for you.

You smiled at him. “Morning.”

Max accepted the mug of coffee you handed him, kissing your cheek in thanks and you leaned into it automatically. It was scary how fast you’d gotten used to his affection, but it felt so natural that you couldn’t bring yourself to question it.

“You look beautiful.” He complimented you, hand finding the hem of your dress to pluck at it with his fingers.

It was a plain old summer dress in white, one you’d worn a couple of times but it was Max’s favourite piece. It made your legs look amazing, and he was slightly mourning the thought of having to let you go out with the girls and not being able to ogle you openly.

“Thank you.” You smiled up at him.

“Is anyone gonna address the elephant in the room?” Lando spoke out, bringing the both of you out of your bubble you’d managed to create.

You turned around to look at the nosy group, rolling your eyes at your friend.

“Isn’t it clear?” Pierre balled up leftover bread from a loaf and chucked it at the Brit from across the table.

Charles frowned, glancing at you before looking over at his girlfriend who was smiling a little too brightly for your liking.

“Am I missing something?” Charles narrowed his eyes and looked at you. “I feel like I’m missing something.”

“You’re not.” You said, playfully glaring at your friends. “They’re just being idiots.”

George coughed, dodging an incoming slap to the arm from Carmen. Just that one gesture let you know that Carmen was aware of what had happened last night.

“Tell that to Carlos’ furniture.” He muttered but it was enough for Carlos to look up, frown deep in his face as his round eyes looked between George, you and Max.

“What?” He asked, confusion lacing his voice. “What did you say?”

Max coughed, hiding a laugh as he turned around to pick up his mug of coffee. You shot Kika a look that screamed help me and she didn’t even hesitate to hop up from the barstool and nod at the girls.

“Everyone ready?” She asked, earning a few replies as they gathered up their things for a day in town. "Vamos."

You watched in amusement before turning to Max, not really in the mood to leave him and he seemed to share those feelings, judging by the look on his face. His eyes flickered across your face, like he was trying to memorise it and you leaned into him.

“I’ll see you later?” He asked, like it was ever a question, watching you nod. He handed you the toast you’d prepared, giving you a look. “Eat up before you go.”

You tried to act like that small gesture didn’t make your heart absolutely crumble into ashes, not having the strength to refrain yourself from standing on your toes to press a kiss to his mouth.

“What the fuck?” Came Charles’ voice from somewhere and you laughed into Max’s lips before pulling back.

Max gave your behind a small pat and you turned around to leave the kitchen, thinking that you couldn’t wait to be back home.

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x female reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fic #max verstappen smut #f1 fics #f1 smut #f1 fluff #f1 imagine

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joelscruff · 1 month

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one of your girls (frankie morales x triple frontier boys) 18+

a/n it's @swiftiscruff friendship exchange time!!! i'm so beyond excited to share this piece i've been working on, dedicated to my incredible friend han @swiftispunk 🌙 we brainstormed the idea for this fic months ago and it's finally somehow become something tangible - but han, if i've learned anything from writing this fic, it's how much i depend on you when it comes to so many aspects of my writing. whether it be workshopping ideas, input on characterization & dialogue, sharing snippets, etc, you are always there to lend a hand, listen, and advise. not having that this time around (because this fic has been a secret ofc!) just further proved to me what an incredibly patient, giving, caring, kind, & beautiful friend you are. i love you so much & i'm so grateful you slid in my dms one whole year ago today 💕 summary: unpacking some of frankie's old things leads to a revelation about his past. (OR to put it simply: frankie morales x triple frontier boys circle jerk 🙌) rating: 18+ explicit warnings: circle jerk (frankie/benny/santiago/will), sub!frankie, bukkake, facials, cumplay, cum swallowing, frankie is literally a cum dumpster (and loves it), praise kink galore, pet names (good boy, baby boy), dirty talk, oral (m receiving), deepthroating, cock worship, use of restraints, sexy photographs, sharing, mentions of frankie x all the boys individually (this includes tom but he's not involved in the circle jerk - sorry tom), brief mentions of anal sex (m/m), for story purposes you are frankie's current gf but it's not really the main focus...for now anyway, all of this takes place before the events of triple frontier word count: 12.2k ao3 dividers by @saradika-graphics 💙

You've been moving boxes for what feels like forever, arms aching and the sun beating hot against the back of your neck as you swipe sweat from your brow and head back into the aging, disintegrating storage unit. When Frankie had first told you about it you'd been adamant that he move his old things - locked away for almost ten years now - out of the unit and into the new house. "We don't need to be paying for storage when we have a garage", you'd said confidently, "we have a house now, Frankie. What's yours is mine."

If only you'd believed him when he'd told you it wouldn't be that easy.

"I told y-" he begins for the fourth time as you lean down to grab another box, but you snap up immediately with a finger to your lips. "Why don't I just do the rest from here?" He offers fruitlessly, "You take a break, relax in the truck for a little while."

You're already shaking your head before he's finished talking, resuming your retrieval of the large box at your feet, "No, Frankie. We do this together."

You don't have to look at him to know that he's rolling his eyes. All the same, you hear him clamoring after you with another box as he follows you from the unit and back to the truck. The sun hangs high overhead and you squint uncomfortably against it, piling the box alongside the others in the truck bed. Frankie does the same.

"I mean, what's even in all of these?" you ask exasperatedly, shoving one of the many boxes with your hand and leaning backwards against the truck, "How did you accumulate this much shit in the military? I thought minimalism was all the rage over there."

"I told you, it's not just mine," he reaches forward to brush some sweaty tendrils of hair out of your eyes, "It's the whole team's shit. Well, mostly Ben and Pope's, the others were uh-" he winches, "a little more organized, I guess."

"You guess?" you push up on your hands and seat yourself precariously on the edge of the truck bed, catching your breath. Frankie watches as you tear open the nearest box, biting down on his lip to stifle a laugh when he sees your eyes widen at what's inside.

"Paperwork?" you breathe, mouth agape, "Paperwork? That's what in all these? Fucking forms?"

"Something they don't tell you when you first join," he shrugs, "But no, that's not all that's in these. There's souvenirs, journals, photos, mission plans-" he cuts himself off and stops speaking altogether, lips clamping shut. Your brow furrows as you watch him assess the open box beside you, then the others strewn haphazardly here and there inside the truck bed, as if he's only just realized something he hadn't considered before.

"What?"

He seems to shake himself from whatever stopped him, eyes still settled on the open box as he murmurs, "Um, maybe don't open any more right now."

You raise an eyebrow, "Why not?"

"Just, uh... don't."

"Well that's not ominous in the slightest."

He laughs but something about it seems off, almost forced as he reaches forward with both hands to help you down from the truck. You follow his lead, peering up at him curiously and hoping maybe he'll elaborate, explain, but instead he turns on the spot and heads back toward the storage unit, pulling you along in tow.

You decide not to press him about it for the time being. Right now, all you can think about is finishing hauling these ridiculous boxes and devouring an iced coffee on the way home.

A week passes before you even think about the boxes again.

By that time they've been taking up residence in the garage, haphazardly placed along the concrete in unorganized disarray, exactly where you'd both left them the day you unloaded the unit. You'd been too exhausted to start unpacking and had instead collapsed on the couch, laying there with aching limbs as Frankie discarded your empty iced coffee and poured you a tall glass of water.

"Your job is done now, querida," he'd murmured softly, stroking your cheek, "I'll do the rest."

Except he hadn't. He'd pulled your feet into his lap and settled comfortably beside you on the couch, just for a moment - and then it was lights out for the both of you, boxes be damned.

Now you find yourself the following Saturday perched precariously atop your counter, fingers smeared a soft fern green as you paint the walls of your new kitchen. You only moved into this house a month ago - your first real house together; shared, owned, all that jazz. Most of that time has already been entirely dedicated to making it your own space; unpacking, decorating, furnishing, rearranging - you've been more than busy with curating this new step in both your lives.

Which is why it's not surprising that you forget about the storage unit boxes and their scatteredness in the garage, too distracted by your current ongoing tasks. You hum along to the radio as you carefully attend to the smallest crevices and spaces between the cupboards, above the stove, under the window sill. You need it to be perfect, have gone far too long living in a less than adequate apartment without much creative freedom for this house to suffer the same fate.

Of course, just as you acknowledge the desire for perfection, your hand slips. A splash of green suddenly paints the pure white window sill and your heart sinks.

"Frankie!" you call out with a groan, reaching forward to wipe the mess away and only making it worse, "Where's the white paint?"

"Should be in the garage, I think," you hear him call back from the living room, busy with his own task of painting the walls a deep maroon, "Need me to get it for you?"

"No, I got it," you slide off the counter, careful to avoid the can of green paint at your feet as you make your way to the garage. It's only when you pass the threshold off the laundry room that you finally remember the forgotten boxes, faced with them for the first time since you dropped them off.

"Dammit, Francisco," you mutter, "You said you'd take care of it."

You can't really blame him though. It really is an undertaking; you'd known that from the moment he told you about the unit to begin with. He'd wanted to keep them there, would rather continue paying the monthly fee than deal with the enormous amount of unpacking he'd have to do, but you'd pushed. Now, as you grimace at the pile of heavy boxes, you wonder if maybe he'd been right.

For now, you turn your attention to the task at hand - finding white paint. You scan the storage shelves along the walls and spot the can you're looking for on a high shelf, out of reach.

Maybe those boxes can serve a purpose today.

You shove one toward the shelf and heave another one on top, making quick work of it despite the effort. Climbing onto your makeshift stepladder, you reach for the white paint and successfully pull it to your chest, but the added weight causes your feet to dig into the box below, exposing its contents as you carefully pull yourself back down. Your eyes can't help but dart to the crushed opening, spotting what looks like a photo album peeking through.

Setting the paint down, you lower yourself onto the concrete and cross your legs, biting your lip and reaching inside the box to grab the album. It's navy blue, relatively small, lightweight. A little skim couldn't hurt.

As soon as you open the photo album you can't help but smile, met immediately with a photo of Frankie and Santiago with their arms around each other - fifteen years younger. Their eyes are alight with excitement, Frankie's cap askew and Santi's expression caught in a permanent laugh. Before, you think to yourself, this was before shit got real. You flip the page and smile wider when you see a photo of Benny and Will, caught in what must be a playful brawl with Benny's hand grabbing at Will's leg as he tries to get away. Will is grinning from ear to ear, a genuine smile you've only seen a handful of times. Yep, definitely before.

You flip through the rest of the photos with a heaviness in your heart you can't describe. You've known these boys for a handful of years, have only heard fragments of the shit they've been through together, but you know it wasn't easy, know it affected them in ways you'll never even begin to understand. Being able to see them before all that, before they became hardened and molded by pain and trauma, you can't deny the emotions that bubble in your throat.

The last page contains a group photo; Frankie is in the center, surrounded by his friends on all sides, Will and Benny turned towards him with a fond smile and a grin, Santiago with an arm around him again and his head tilted to brush against Frankie's cap, and Tom on the edge - looking a little out of place, you must admit. But then, you suppose, things haven't really changed.

You're about to close the album and return to your painting when you notice a little pocket built into the backing, hidden out of sight with a hint of white poking through. Not wanting to miss out on another good photo, you slip your finger inside and happily tug out what looks to be a polaroid, different than the others. Curiously, you flip it over.

And immediately drop it to the floor.

Suddenly you can hear Frankie's words from last week, thrumming in your mind on repeat: "Um, maybe don't open any more right now."

You hadn't understood. But now you think you do.

With slightly shaky fingers you reach down and pick up the polaroid, taking a breath before slowly flipping it over again. Lips parted, eyes wide, heart pounding, you peer down at the little photograph and try to understand what you're seeing.

A much younger Frankie - naked, save for the cap on his head and the pants around his ankles. On his knees, peering up at the camera with hooded eyes and a fucked-out expression you've become more than familiar with at this point in your relationship. But that's not what made you drop the photo, no.

His face is covered in cum. You know that's what it is, know there's nothing else it could possibly be. Thick trails of it paint his face like abstract art, dripping down his forehead and the bridge of his nose, his cheeks, his lips, his chin. It's all over him, smeared along his neck and chest bloomed red with heat and arousal. His cap is askew, cheeks flushed, and - most notable of all - he's smiling. Looking up at the camera, drenched in cum, smiling.

Frankie is bisexual; you've known this since your first date, remember how shy he'd been as he'd softly murmured, "Just so you know, I like girls and guys." It hadn't bothered you at all to know that he'd been with men in the past - in fact, you'd kind of liked that about him.

So this - this doesn't bother you. You're not bothered. You're... you don't know what you are, can't seem to pinpoint exactly how you're feeling right now as peer down at the polaroid that you were probably never supposed to find. You're not bothered, you're just... surprised. And confused. What is this doing here? Why is it hidden in an album of Frankie and his friends?

....Oh.

"Find it?" you suddenly hear Frankie call from the living room, and your stomach drops. You hastily stand and slip the polaroid into your back pocket, then close the album and toss it back into the box.

"Y-yeah," you call back, "I got it!"

You try not to mention it. Try, being the operative word.

But it's all you can think about. It's all you see when you reunite with Frankie in the kitchen later that afternoon, staring at the flecks of maroon paint scattered across his face and being unable to not see smears of splattered white. It's all you see that evening as you dig into your leftover Chinese food, eyes constantly flickering across the table to watch Frankie bite and chew, lips soft and wet and definitely not leaking cum at the corners.

It's all you see that night when you settle in bed and watch as he comes out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, water dripping down his neck and chest not unlike the thick drops of release in the photo. You watch with hooded eyes, lips parted, heart thrumming, as he tugs the towel off and walks to the dresser with his pert ass on full display. You can't help but wonder if there'd been cum there too, leaking and dripping, hidden away because of the angle of the photo.

"I can feel you staring at me," he suddenly says with a chuckle, "Why don't you take a picture? It'll last longer." He says it in jest but you feel your face bloom with heat, immediately averting your eyes and burying yourself beneath the sheets.

"I was not," you lie, "Get over yourself."

He laughs again and you hear him shut the dresser, probably tugging on a pair of briefs, "You've been looking at me weird all day, it's kind of freaking me out."

You want to point out that "all day" is an exaggeration, but then you'd have to admit that you have been looking at him strangely for at least a portion of it, and you really don't want to do that. Instead, you reach over and turn off the lamp on your bedside table, then nuzzle into your pillow and close your eyes, ignoring him.

"Is something wrong, baby?" you hear him ask, humor slowly dissipating from his voice, "You need to talk about anything?"

"No," you lie, your own voice betraying you immediately, "I'm fine."

You feel the bed dip beside you, feel the warmth of his palm come down to gently caress your upper arm, "You sure? Did I do something to upset you?" You can practically hear him wince as soon as he says the words, "I know, I should already know if I did. But today's been busy and-"

"You didn't do anything, Frankie," you tell him softly, "I promise."

"Then what is it?" you can hear the concern, the gentle worry as he strokes your arm up and down, "Talk to me." He sounds so kind, so tender, as always. It's so damn hard to keep anything from him. You sigh.

"I feel..." you grimace, eyes still closed, "I just feel..."

He waits for you to continue, in the meantime settling into bed beside you and tugging the sheets up over himself. You feel his warmth against your body and it immediately fills you with a sense of calm, comfort. Your heart slows a bit, breaths coming a little easier as he brings his arm down to wrap around you and pull you in close.

"How do you feel, querida?" he murmurs, "Tell me."

"Guilty," you finally breathe, and you're surprised to feel tears pricking in your eyes, "I feel guilty."

You can hear the confusion in his voice, "For what?"

"I...I saw something I shouldn't have," you admit quietly, "In one of your boxes. Something really private that you probably never ever wanted me to see and I'm so sorry." You feel his arm freeze at your side and you take a shaky breath, "And now I can't stop thinking about it even though it's absolutely none of my damn business. And I wanna ask you about it but I really have no right to, not when I wasn't even supposed to know about it in the first place, and-"

"Mierda," he groans - shit.

"I'm so sorry, Frankie" you whisper pathetically, still facing away from him, "It's all my fault and if you need me to just forget about it, I will. I promise that I will."

"Fuck," he murmurs, "No no, baby, it's not your fault, it's mine. I should have unpacked all of it myself. I knew there was shit in there you might not wanna see."

"Y-you're not mad at me?"

He buries his face in your hair, nose nuzzling against your neck, "Of course I'm not mad at you - could never be mad at you for that. What's mine is yours, remember?"

You pull away to turn and face him, expression pensive. He's looking at you with earnest eyes, no anger or betrayal to be seen, and it almost makes it worse. Because does he know? Does he realize what exactly it is that you found?

"You have um..." you bite your lip, "You have pictures, in a photo album."

He stares at you, brow furrowing. "What?"

Fuck.

"There was... there was a photo album in one of the boxes. And I figured I'd just flip through it, just to have a look at you when you were younger, you know? Thought it'd be nice, that there might be something we could frame for the house."

He's looking at you like you're speaking another language, confusion lining his features, "....So?"

"So... so I found..." you wince, the image flashing behind your lids again as you try to figure out how to word it, "I found a picture that I don't think you would have wanted me to see."

He's still staring at you, the cogs turning in his head but seemingly no closer to an answer. You picture him flipping through an invisible rolodex, trying to pinpoint exactly what picture you could be talking about. You're starting to realize that maybe when he'd told you to stop looking in the boxes he'd been talking about something else.

"Honestly baby, I thought you meant you looked at some of my paperwork," he admits. Bingo. "Saw some stuff we did for a mission or something. There's plans in those boxes, strategy stuff, and you know how intense some of those were, some of the..." he takes a beat, biting his lip, "some of the things we had to do."

You shake your head quickly, "It wasn't anything like that. It wasn't...it wasn't something serious, really. It was..." you take a deep breath, still unable to say the words. Instead, you reach over into your nightstand and grab the polaroid, sitting up in bed and waiting for him to join you.

"What is it?" he asks, gentle and kind as he sits up beside you, "You can tell me, baby. We can talk about it."

Your heart races but you figure there's no going back from it now, and you're not sure you'd want to keep it from him anyway. Up until this point you and Frankie have always made communication an important part of your relationship. It's been necessary considering what he's been through, what he still deals with, and it's something that you're proud of. You're just gonna have to grin and bear it.

With a sigh, you shakily hand him the polaroid.

He flips it.

And drops it.

"Oh," he gasps, hand coming up to cover his mouth, "Oh, fuck."

"It's not- I'm not-" you stutter, fumbling over your words, "It's not a big deal, really. Like, it's whatever. I know you're bi, I know you've probably sucked your fair share of dicks-"

"Oh god," Frankie moans, his hands coming up to cover his eyes, "Oh my god."

"Hey, hey, no," you reach up and try to pull his hands away from his face, desperation in your voice, "Do not hide from me, you did nothing wrong. You hear me? There's nothing wrong with this." He groans again, shaking his head, but you just keep on talking, "I'm not mad about it or anything, it'd be pretty fucked up for me to mad about it actually. I'm just- hey," you continue to pry at his fingers, "Francisco, look at me."

Slowly, hesitantly, he finally removes his hands from his eyes to peer at you. You can see the embarrassment there, the humiliation - and not the good kind, not the kind he likes.

"Hey," you whisper, "You don't have to talk about this. We can pretend I never even saw it if that's what you want," you bring his hands down and hold them tightly, squeeze them in your own, "I just... I just wanted you to know that I saw it. And that I was just a little curious about why it was in an album from your military days. That's it. That's all."

His eyes fall back to the flipped polaroid on the bed, the back of it facing the both of you. You watch as he slowly reaches forward to pick it up again with his index and middle finger, pulls it upwards and turns it around to see it again.

Out of respect for him, you don't look at it. You just watch his face, his expression. He looks.... thoughtful.

"Talk to me," you whisper, voice breaking, "Please."

He looks from the polaroid to you, then back to the polaroid. After taking a steadying breath, he places it back down onto the bed between the two of you, face up. Your eyes spot his cum-covered face again, frozen forever in time, and you quickly avert your gaze.

He notices, and gives you a small half smile. You return it tenfold.

"Well, it.." he starts, taking another breath, "It was just something that.. we just started-" he cuts himself off, smile turning to a frown as he formulates his words. "It started..."

"Hey," you breathe, reaching down to squeeze his hands again, "Take your time."

It started as a way to blow off steam - that's it. Simple, easy.

They'd all gotten to know one another during training, spent time shooting the shit and building friendships with each other. There had been such a sense of belonging, of fortified brotherhood, a pull toward one another that none of them could deny. So it was unsurprising when their teamwork and comradery resulted in their placement into a special task force, just the five of them against the world - or, rather, the enemy.

But it was stressful. Going from basic military training to special ops added a new layer of pressure and competence that they hadn't experienced before, and it was no walk in the park. Things got harder, more pressing, more important. And all they had, like always, was each other.

So it made sense one night, for Frankie anyway, to offer Santiago a blowjob.

He'd heard the stiff grunts from the bed beside him, the dry - too dry - slap of skin as Santi worked at himself beneath the thin sheet of his bunk. It wasn't abnormal for Frankie to overhear one of his buddies masturbating; in fact it would have been abnormal to not hear it. He'd gotten used to the different sounds they'd each make as they gripped their cocks, hidden away in the dark, and pumped themselves to completion. He had memorized the sounds of their breathing, the grunts and the whines, the soft moans of their orgasms.

But it was never something that was discussed. It was an unspoken rule, almost: what happens in the bunks stays in the bunks. So Frankie had never even considered crossing that line, especially because he was pretty sure he was the only one in the group who liked dudes - something everyone was only vaguely aware of.

There was something about the desperation in Santi's movements that night, in the sweat on his brow and the pained expression on his face. He'd gotten reprimanded earlier that day for failing a training mission, been yelled at by two commanding officers while the rest of the boys looked on with regret in their hearts. If one of them failed, they all felt as if they'd failed too. Santi hadn't spoken to anyone for the rest of the day, had eaten in silence and then retired to his bunk much too early. And now, hours later here he was, hand around his cock, trying to forget.

And Frankie wanted to help.

"Pope," he'd whispered under his breath, just loud enough for Santiago to hear. Santi had turned his head slightly, eyebrows raising when he realized he'd been caught in the act. He'd been about to say something, defend himself maybe, but Frankie had shook his head and continued, "Need some help?"

A look of confusion. "Help?"

Frankie's eyes had wandered to the shape of Santi's lower half beneath the sheet, then back up to meet his gaze.

"Yeah," he'd murmured earnestly, "Help."

Santi had stared at him for a few seconds, brow furrowed, chest heaving. His hand was frozen under the sheet, gripping firmly to his hard cock as he'd considered Frankie's offer. Someone else might have hurled hurtful words, another might have ignored him completely.

But Santi took a deep breath and leaned back, closed his eyes and breathed, "Go ahead."

Frankie had been under the sheet in minutes.

Tucked away, hidden in case any of the other guys woke up, Frankie sucked slowly on his friend's cock. He wasn't sure how much Santi wanted to see of him, figured maybe he'd have his eyes closed as he pictured someone else, maybe that girl he liked from back home, but it didn't matter to Frankie - what mattered most was helping his friend forget about the shitty day he'd had. He treated Santi's cock like something to be worshipped, swallowing and licking around the big shape of him, warm and thick in his mouth. And when Santi came, it was only moments after Frankie had started.

His hands came down to grip Frankie's curls, tugging and pulling as he'd groaned and spilled down his friend's throat. And Frankie had swallowed every drop.

"Francisco," Santi had murmured when Frankie pulled off his cock with a pop, a drop of cum leaking from the corner of his mouth as he peered up at Santi from beneath the sheet, "You've been holding out on me."

With a smile, Frankie had licked the cum away and placed a gentle, reverent kiss to the wet head of Santi's cock. Santi had watched with hooded eyes, let Frankie kiss him there a few more times, let him trail his nose along his thick shaft and inhale deeply at the base. Hands still carding through his hair, Santi had let him mouth at his cock for a few more minutes before softly telling him he should get back in his bunk.

"Just trying to savor it," Frankie had whispered, voice a little sad, a little broken.

"You'll do it again," Santi had replied, reveling in the way Frankie's eyes widened, a smile lighting up his face.

And he did do it again - the following night. He'd been a little hesitant, unsure if Santiago had really meant what he said. But after the others had fallen asleep and Frankie was still just lying there, waiting, he'd heard a soft pssst sound. He'd looked over to see Santi sitting up in bed with a smirk on his face and one hand already beneath the sheet, tugging at his dick.

He stuffed his mouth with Santi's cock every night that week. It was almost feral the way he drank him down, eyes rolling as his lips kissed Santi's pubic hair and his tongue laved the shaft of his cock up and down, up and down. Drool cascaded from his lips all over his friend's belly, and he whined softly over and over whenever his curls were tugged, his temples stroked. Santi would talk to him softly, murmur the quietest little praises that made Frankie insane with need. That's it, there you go. You take what you need, Francisco. And then he'd come down his throat, fill his stomach with it, and whisper, "Good boy."

It was filthy, but it wasn't wrong. Not one part of it felt wrong. And Santiago never once made him feel like it was a shameful secret they were keeping, like the others finding out would be the end of the world. And it's good that he'd maintained that stance, because soon enough, Benny was in on it too. They should have seen it coming, considering his bunk was directly above Santi's.

"Can you give me one, maybe?" he'd asked Frankie awkwardly one night, voice quiet and slightly nervous as he leaned over the bars of the bunk bed, "I've been... I've been listening to it every night and it's driving me fuckin' crazy that I don't know what it feels like."

"Are you saying you've never had a blowjob, Ben?"

Benny had rolled his eyes, "Of course I've had a fuckin' blowjob, idiot. I've just never had a... a you know..." he'd shrugged, "A Frankie blowjob."

"It's good," Santi had said nonchalantly, tugging off his shirt and climbing into his bunk, "He's fucking incredible, actually."

Frankie had preened at the praise, cheeks reddening. An hour later he'd climbed up into Benny's bunk and deepthroated his cock for a solid fifteen minutes. Benny was breathless, chest blooming with heat as he watched Frankie suck and drool, gagging every so often but immediately resuming his sloppy ministrations as soon as he'd caught his breath.

"Look at that," Benny had marveled softly, "Look at that."

"I told you," they'd both heard Santi whisper from below, "He's a fucking godsend."

"I'm gonna cum down your fuckin' throat, Frankie," Benny had groaned, and no sooner were the words out that he was following through, spurting slow and steady into Frankie's mouth. He gripped the back of his head, watched Frankie swallow, and then whispered, "Good boy". Oh, he really had been listening.

Sated and warm with wet and sticky briefs, Frankie had climbed back into bed with a new appreciation for Benny.

As if two wasn't enough, Will got involved shortly after that. Of course Benny had unsurprisingly spilled the beans to his brother, which lead to Frankie climbing atop his own bunk one night to join Will, who'd been a bit unsure. It was as if he thought a prank was being pulled on him, like it was all bullshit, but he didn't say no.

"Been wonderin' what you three were gettin' up to," he'd muttered, watching Frankie a bit dubiously, brow furrowed, arms crossed, "Ben says you're, uh... good."

"I'm good," Frankie had promised softly, bringing his hands down to tug at Will's boxers, "Promise."

Will had watched as Frankie brought his already hardening cock out of his underwear, kissed the tip gently and then brought it into his mouth. "Oh fuck," he'd heard Will gasp out, immediately reaching up to cup the back of Frankie's head. And then there were three.

But three stayed three. Tom did find out about it, considering every single night somebody seemed to be getting their dick sucked. Any discreetness had gone out the window, especially when two of them would jack themselves off to the sounds of Frankie slurping and sucking, groans and the heavy slap of skin echoing throughout the large room. But despite the knowledge of what his friends were doing, the leader of the group was seemingly disinterested in having a go with Frankie.

There was one disastrous evening wherein the others managed to convince Tom to give it a shot. But Frankie bobbed on his cock for a solid five minutes before realizing he just wasn't getting him hard, and Tom had pushed him away and turned in bed with a low sigh.

"It's just not for me, Fish," he'd muttered, "Pretend it never happened."

"He doesn't know what he's missing," Santi had murmured ten minutes later as he watched Frankie suckle on the leaking tip of his cock, "Huh, Francisco? Doesn't know you've got the mouth of an angel, huh?"

Frankie had continued to suck, eyes closed, breathing deeply in and out as Santi stroked his hair.

Things were easier for a while after that. The training was strenuous, oftentimes near impossible, but there was always pleasure at the end of it, always something to look forward to. Every night Frankie would take up residence in someone's bunk, usually after a quick game of rock paper scissors or a straw draw. Each of his friends were different in their own way, and Frankie took a lot of joy in being able to have those moments with them, be what they needed. It felt like he was floating, dreaming; he'd never realized how badly he wanted to be submissive like this until it actually happened. Being their shared prize, their plaything, it was fucking incredible.

Sometimes he'd have all three in one night. He'd deepthroat Benny's cock and swallow him down, then stagger to Will's bunk and do the same. With his own erection aching in his underwear he'd finally crawl in with Santi and allow his closest friend to pull down his briefs and notch the head of his cock into his ass. Santi was the only one who fucked him, the only one who held him close afterwards and sometimes fell asleep with him.

"You my good boy, Francisco?" he'd murmur in Frankie's ear as he fucked him slow and deep, fingers digging into his hips beneath the sheets, "You like feelin' that cock in your ass?"

And god, did he ever.

The first real mission was brutal.

It was tame compared to the things they'd eventually do, but for what it was, they were stressed out of their minds. They spent weeks planning, training, preparing. They'd find themselves so tired at the end of the day that their nighttime habits became a thing of the past, if not something that only happened once in a blue moon. And in its own way the lack of it had begun to affect everything else, their comradery, their abilities, their drive. The day before the mission was set to begin, Benny stood up at dinner and proclaimed, "We've gotta get our shit together."

"Sit down, our shit is together," Tom grumbled, "We're gonna be fine."

"We are not gonna be fine," Benny argued, expression genuinely fearful, "We're gonna fail the whole fuckin' thing and then we're out on our asses."

"There's truth to that, you know there is," Will pointed out as he pulled Benny back down, "There's somethin' missing here. We're not on our A game."

"What, 'cause Morales isn't getting sucked and fucked?"

Frankie's head had gone up, ears tinging pink as he looked over at Tom along with everybody else. There had been a beat of silence, and then-

"Nobody said that," Santi had stated calmly, "And don't be a dick."

"I'm not being a dick. It's fine what you all get up to in your own time, whatever. But it's not the be-all and end-all of our fucking team," he'd shrugged and looked at Santi with a frown, "I mean, come on, Pope. We're prepared, with or without the extracurriculars."

"We are," Santiago had agreed with a nod, turning to Benny, "It's gonna be fine, man. The nerves are just kicking in now but that's normal. We've trained for this, we're ready."

But Frankie could tell he wasn't being entirely truthful.

That night, despite the tiredness of the last day of training and the anxiety of what was to come - Frankie found a solution. He told Santi first, whispered it to him in his bunk and grinned at the expression on his friend's face, awestruck and aroused all at once.

"You're sure?" Santi asked him quietly.

"I'm sure. I think it'll help us de-stress."

Santi had leaned forward and tilted Frankie's cap up, pressed a firm kiss to his forehead and murmured, "Me sigues sorprendiendo, Francisco." You continue to surprise me.

A moment later he was climbing the ladder of Santi's bunk, coming face to face with Benny. "You wanna do something kinky?"

The younger man's eyebrow raised, "Kinkier than usual?"

"A blowjob is not kinky, Ben."

"Getting one from a guy is."

Frankie rolled his eyes and went to pull himself back down the ladder but Benny stopped him, reaching out to touch his wrist.

"What'd you have in mind?"

And that's how he'd ended up on his knees.

Will and Benny stood on either side of Santiago, all three men looking down at their submissive friend with unbridled arousal in their expressions, dark and anticipatory. There was silence at first, not necessarily awkward but full of a definite tension that was more than palpable.

Until-

"Tie him up," Santi murmured to Benny. Frankie's eyes went hooded almost immediately, lips parting as he peered up at his friends and felt his heart pound at the thought of what Santi was asking.

"How so?"

"His hands," Santi clarified, "There's some string in the first aid kit, tie his hands behind his back so he can't touch himself."

Benny followed his orders without question, heading toward the bathroom to grab the kit while Will gave Santiago a confused look. "Why can't he touch himself?"

Santi smiled, tilting his head a bit and peering down at Frankie's already debauched form. He walked forward and kneeled down in front of him, levelling with him as he reached for his waistband.

"'Cause he likes it," Santi murmured, "Haven't you noticed something about Frankie in all the months we've been doing this?" As he spoke he pulled down Frankie's pants to his knees, exposing his bare thighs to the room. He was already hard, the long shape of his cock protruding from his black briefs. "He doesn't touch himself," he continued softly, stroking his thumb gently against the V of Frankie's hips, "He always comes in his pants when he sucks our dicks."

Hearing the words aloud, stated so matter-of-factly, Frankie realized in that moment how fucking well Santiago had come to know him. Not once had Frankie voiced this, told him anything about what he really liked, what he craved. And yet here he was, having his desires told directly to him, like it was the most casual thing in the world.

"And when he gets fucked," Santi continued, fingers trailing downward to ever so gently cup Frankie's cock, "He only lets me touch it. Ain't that right, Francisco?"

Frankie nodded slowly, a lump forming in his throat.

"Why?" Will asked again - always wanting clarification, an explanation.

"'Cause it feels good, doesn't it, Frankie?" Santi cooed, releasing Frankie's bulge and bringing his hand up to place a finger under his chin, "Feels so good to come untouched, huh? Feels good to let go when you've got a dick in your mouth, to fall asleep with your underwear all wet and your cock all sticky?"

Frankie nodded again, cheeks blooming pink. He felt someone behind him pick up his hands, start tying them together - Benny.

"Come to think of it, I've never seen his cock," Benny admitted, voice already rough with anticipation, "I mean... I guess I had other things on my mind."

"He's got a fucking great cock," Santi murmured, "Why don't you show 'em, Francisco? Let 'em see what you've been hiding under here, huh?" His finger dug into the band of Frankie's briefs, and all Frankie could do was nod again, unable to speak with the way his thoughts had begun to melt away, brain going fuzzy.

Benny finished tying his hands and walked in front of him again to stand alongside Santi, eyebrows going up when he watched Frankie's cock be freed from the confines of his underwear. It stood at attention immediately, long and hard, pink and flushed at the tip. It smacked wetly against his belly, balls hanging heavy and full as Santi pulled his briefs down entirely.

"Now look at that pretty cock," Santi breathed, almost just for Frankie alone, "Look how it's dripping."

And it was dripping, already pulsing and bobbing against his belly button with every rise and fall of his chest. The three men watched in silence for a moment as Frankie took deep breaths, his cock twitching and stuttering in front of them without being touched, simply exposed to the cool air of the room and their interested gazes.

"I kinda wanna...." Benny started to say, but trailed off, blushing a bit as he took a step away from his brother.

"I'll stay between you," Santi offered quickly, "Pull 'em out, it's fine."

There was no more hesitation after that. Frankie watched under his lashes as his three friends reached into their pajama pants and pulled out their cocks. Will was still mostly soft, though you could tell he was starting to harden with the sudden gravity of the situation. Benny was already stiff and leaking as he fisted his own, and Santiago's hung heavy and thick between his legs as he carefully circled the head with his thumb.

"We're gonna come all over your face, Frank," Benny told him quietly as he jerked his cock slowly up and down, "You know that, right? You're sure you're cool with that?"

It was like he was underwater, still unable to speak; he hadn't said one word since he'd gotten on his knees. It was as if the submissive part of him had taken over completely, mind going blank.

"Say yes or no, Fish," Will said, voice strained as he squeezed himself gently, "Wanna hear it."

"Yes," Frankie had finally managed to whimper, knees trembling against the cold floor, "Yes, please."

Santi grinned, "Well boys, I think we got our answer," He tilted his head again to eye Frankie from where he stood, "Let's get a little closer, shall we? I think he wants us up close and personal."

Within a few seconds Frankie was suddenly face to face with three cocks - it was like fucking Christmas morning. His mouth popped open and drool immediately began to collect in the corners of his mouth, eyes trailing back and forth to look at absolutely everything he could. He stared at the weeping tips, the fat heads, the thick shafts where his friends pumped and fisted. Without any thoughts in his brain he opened his mouth and laid his tongue flat against his lower lip, staring at Benny's cock - arguably the biggest - with pleading eyes.

"Yeah, you wanna suck on it, don't you?" Benny asked, a smile in his voice, "You go ahead, Fish. Suck that cock."

He did not need telling twice. His lips wrapped around the pink mushroom head of Benny's cock and his eyes rolled back as he began to suck, tongue lapping at the tip and devouring everything it had to offer. God he loved having his mouth full, loved hearing Benny's groans as he pushed his head forward and enveloped more and more of the cock in front of him, began to slide his lips up and down the shaft and cover it in his saliva.

"So pretty with a cock in your throat, Francisco," Santi told him, voice full of praise as he watched Frankie sink down even further on Benny's cock, 'til his nose was buried in his pubic hair. "Tell him how pretty he is, Benny. He wants to hear it."

Frankie anticipated some hesitance, maybe even a sarcastic comment, but Benny did no such thing. Instead, Benny's hand came up to cup the back of Frankie's head, holding him still on his cock as he breathed, "You're so pretty, Frankie."

A high keen of a whine made it's way from Frankie's throat, vibrated around the cock in his mouth. Benny trembled a bit, tangling his fingers in his hair and helping him bob a few more times before pulling him off completely. Frankie gasped for breath, tears in his eyes as he stared up at his friends.

"Your turn," Santi murmured quietly to Will, "Stuff him full."

"He fuckin' loves being stuffed," Will replied with a low chuckle, yanking Frankie forward by his hair and shoving his now fully hard cock into his mouth. It was the kind of rough Frankie was already well acquainted with when it came to Will, and he welcomed it with gratitude. He closed his eyes and allowed Will's cock to sink into his mouth like Benny's had, then swallowed around it, tightening the walls of his throat and gagging around the large intrusion.

"Yeah, choke on it, baby," Will muttered, gripping both sides of Frankie's head with a groan, "Baby boy."

Baby boy. That was a new one, especially from Will, but Frankie certainly wasn't complaining. He swallowed around him again, feeling his own cock bob against his stomach as he continued to worship Will's dick. There was only so much of the sensation that Will could take, and before long he too was pulling out of Frankie's mouth and resuming his slow strokes, breathing heavily.

"M'your baby boy," Frankie murmured to the three of them, Will's words still echoing in his mind. His voice was already completely shot, rough and scratchy from the two large cocks that had invaded his throat.

"You are," Santiago cooed, leaning forward to gently tap the head of his own cock against Frankie's bottom lip, "You're our baby boy, Frankie. Our good, pretty, perfect boy, huh?"

Yes, Frankie wanted to whisper, it's all I am. It's all I wanna be. But his mouth was already being filled a third time, this time by Santi's cock - the thickest of the three. His vision blurred with tears as it stretched his lips, the masculine taste dripping on the back of his tongue and down his throat. He'd had Santi's cock in his mouth the most out of everyone's; had fallen asleep a few times suckling on the tip of it while Santi murmured praise, like a comfort, a constant.

He knew exactly what Santi liked, what he didn't, how to tease him, how to get him there. Immediately, Frankie curled his tongue around the wide head, dipped the tip of it into Santi's slit and carefully fucked it in and out while suctioning the rest. He kept his eyes open this time even though they burned with tears, allowing himself to meet Santiago's gaze just how he knew he liked it.

"Oh, good boy," Santi praised softly, thumbing Frankie's cheeks and letting the head of his cock sit just inside the wet heat of his mouth, "Suckin' on that cock like it's my thumb, huh? Just how you like it?"

Now that was something unbeknownst to Benny and Will. They knew Santi liked to fuck Frankie sometimes, but they didn't know much about the logistics, the positioning, the way it worked. More often than not, Frankie would suck on Santi's thumb when he was being fucked, liked the feeling of having both his holes full at the same time. It felt complete somehow, safe. God, what would it feel like now if Santi were to fuck him and let Benny or Will fuck his throat? What would it feel like to be truly filled up like that, the way he'd always imagined? His cock twitched against his belly again, still untouched, still pulsing, and he moaned around Santi's cock.

"I think our baby boy needs a little break," Santi murmured softly, "Shh, it's okay, Frankie, it's alright," he slowly pulled his cock from Frankie's lips and allowed him to catch his breath, chest heaving. He felt multiple hands petting his hair, stroking his cheeks, thumbing his temples. Someone brushed one of his nipples, pinched it ever so gently and then did the same to the other one.

"Sweet little things," Will murmured, and that answered that.

"He really is a fucking godsend, Pope," Benny breathed, disbelief and awe playing at the edge of his voice, "Softest mouth I've ever felt."

"His eyes are what get me," Santi replied, and Frankie felt him take his cap off and toss it to the side, then a pair of lips kiss his forehead, "He's got the prettiest brown eyes, look so beautiful when he's got that wet mouth all full."

The way they talked about him, like he wasn't even there, like he was just a toy, something to play with, an object - it was so much. It was too much. He leaned back on his haunches and whimpered, eyes fluttering open as he looked up at his friends, still standing in front of him with their now very wet cocks in their hands.

"Put them on my face," he begged, voice broken and haggard, "All of them, please."

"Fuck," Benny gasped out, and without hesitation he placed the entire length of his cock along Frankie's cheek and forehead, tapping it a few times and hissing, "There you go. There it is, baby boy."

"You go around the other side," Santi told Will, knowing he wouldn't want to touch Benny's cock, "Put yours upside down on his other cheek, I'll go middle."

Benny was still slapping Frankie's face gently with his cock, hissing and groaning out words of praise. Santi slapped his own down across the center of his face, along his nose and lips. His cock settled up against Benny's, and for the shortest of seconds Frankie noted that they rubbed them together without speaking, without looking at each other. Will joined them on the other side, his balls hanging low on Frankie's forehead and his tip jutting out near his chin. Three cocks, side by side, covering their friend's entire face.

"Slap him with them, he likes that," Benny said through gritted teeth, doing it again and again and reveling in the whimpers and whines Frankie was making below them, "Ohhh, he fuckin' loves that."

"I don't think I can last," Will spit, voice more strained than it had been before, "This is too much, I'm gonna blow my whole fuckin' load any minute now."

"No one's stopping you," Santi encouraged, "Doesn't matter when we come, what matters is we do it all over his face. Cover him with it."

"Oh, he's gonna be fuckin' drenched," Benny groaned, eyes closing as he stilled his slapping movements to hold back his own orgasm. His voice was wild now, desperate, "I wanna come in his mouth, I call dibs."

"You hear that, Frankie, baby?" Santi murmured with a sly smile, "Benny called dibs on filling your mouth."

Frankie wouldn't have responded even if he could, just let out another whimpering moan and dropped his jaw, lolled his tongue out so his friends could take turns tapping the heads of their cocks against it. He was covered in precum, felt it dribbling down his chin and forehead, collecting behind his teeth and dripping down the back of his throat.

"Let him suck," Will hissed, "Let him suck mine one more time." At his words, Benny and Santi moved out of the way as best they could, Santi tapping Frankie's eyelid with his cock while Benny smeared more precum into his forehead. They watched as Frankie carefully suckled Will's tip into his mouth, closed his lips around him and hummed.

"Put it in your throat, baby boy," Will told him firmly, "Swallow around it, there you go. Thaaat's a good boy."

Gurgling sounds were coming from Frankie's gag reflex but he didn't stop or pull away, kept doing exactly what he knew Will needed as he swallowed him down. It took barely any time at all for it to be too much for Will to handle, and before any of them knew it he was pulling out and pumping his cock furiously over Frankie's face. Benny and Santi stepped back - they all knew what was coming.

"Don't come in his mouth, I called dibs," Benny warned, and Frankie could have sworn he heard Santiago chuckle.

"Keep your eyes closed, Fish," Will muttered, directly in front of him now as the wet sounds of his fist slipping up and down his cock filled the room, "Gonna paint that pretty little face and those sweet little nipples."

Franke whimpered, keeping his eyes closed as he continued to listen to what was going on around him. He could hear Santi and Benny still jerking themselves a few steps away, but Will's grunts and groans were the most prominent, the most present. And only a few seconds later he felt the first splash of cum hit his face - his left cheek.

"There it is," Santi egged Will on, "There he goes."

Another rope of cum landed on his forehead, dripped down onto his eyebrow. Then another on his chin. He listened as Will let out one more groan, still pumping his cock as he aimed at Frankie's bare chest. He felt two more spurts trickle down both of his nipples, sensitive and hard, and that was it.

"Fuck," Will groaned, satisfaction plain as day in his voice, "Fuck, Frankie."

He opened his eyes and was met with Will's cock, tight in his fist. Without hesitation he leaned forward and brought the tip gently into his mouth, licking off the excess cum as Will brought his hand down to play with Frankie's curls. He sucked for a few seconds, placed a soft kiss to the tip - his favorite spot - and then looked up to meet Will's gaze, a dazed little smile playing on his lips.

"Give it one more little kiss, baby boy," Will murmured, "Just one more." Frankie did as he was told, eyelashes fluttering as he kissed the sticky tip once more, and then Will was backing up to let Santi and Benny back into their spots.

"You're a good boy, Fish," he murmured, tucking himself back into his pants. "Mind if I watch the rest?"

"Please stay," Frankie managed to breathe, and the movement of his face caused some of the cum in his eyebrow to trickle downwards, dipping into the crevice of his nose. Will smiled and nodded, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall to observe.

"Won't be much longer now, Francisco," Santi told him softly, shuffling forward to carefully fill Frankie's mouth again with his dick. He watched with fascination as Frankie slowly bobbed on it, like muscle memory as he breathed evenly through his nose. "M'close. I think Benny's close too."

"You look so fuckin' good with all that cum on your face," Benny told him, voice almost pained, "Gonna look even better with more."

Surprisingly, Frankie pulled off Santi's dick without being told to do so and peered over at Benny with hunger in his eyes, "Can you... can I..." he cut himself off, going bright red as he looked back to Santi for reassurance.

"What is it, baby?" Santi asked softly, brow furrowing, "You good? You need to take a break?"

Frankie shook his head quickly, "N-no, I just...I..." he bit his lip and hoped his sudden idea wasn't about to be shot down, "Can you put them both in at the same time?"

A beat of silence. Then-

"Fuck," Benny groaned, "Fuck, that's hot." There was no doubt in Frankie's mind now that Benny had quite liked having his dick so close to Santi's, so it made him grin when Benny moved forward to stand beside his friend and jut his cock out toward Frankie's mouth.

"Open up, Fish."

Dropping his jaw once again and staring wide eyed up at his teammates, cum still fresh and sticky all over his face, Frankie allowed Benny and Santi to slide both their cocks into his waiting mouth. The feeling was insane. The taste was insane. All masculine and heady and musky and wet, the smell of sweat and raw sex invading his nostrils as they both pushed their dicks further in alongside each other. Frankie felt two hands in his hair, one of Santi's and one of Benny's, holding him still.

"Oh fuck, I need a picture of this," Benny groaned, blinking furiously as he peered down at where he and Santi's dicks jutted out from Frankie's mouth. "Will, grab Pope's camera, I'm serious. I need to remember this."

As Will made his way to the bunks, Frankie continued to blink slowly and languidly, tongue almost lazily swirling along the fat heads of the two big cocks in his mouth. They were dripping everywhere, warm and sticky, layering the back of his tongue with all of their arousal. And he was so fucking overwhelmed.

"Two cocks," Santi breathed, thumbing a bit of Will's cum that had begun to dry on Frankie's cheek, "Two fat cocks for Frankie, huh?"

"Look at how his lips stretch," Benny added, pushing his cock in the tiniest bit further to watch how Frankie's mouth adjusted to the size, "S'like he was made for it."

"He was made for it," Santi agreed softly, pushing some hair out of Frankie's face and tucking it behind his ear, "Huh, Francisco? Were you made for this?"

Another slow blink and an even slower nod, careful not to dislodge the appendages in his mouth. Benny assessed the door Will had left through and then hesitated for a moment before turning to Santi and whispering, "You feel good, Pope," under his breath.

"So do you," Santi replied with a smile, "Y'got a nice dick."

Benny seemed a bit flustered, avoiding Santiago's gaze as he muttered, "Thanks."

Will rejoined them a few seconds later, Santiago's polaroid camera in hand. Frankie watched with pleasure as Will brought the camera over his head and faced it downwards, preparing the shot.

"Chipmunk cheeks," Will murmured fondly, snapping the picture with a smile, "This'll do great for the annual Christmas card, huh boys?" It was a joke of course; they all knew that what was happening right would more than likely never leave the base, but Santi and Benny laughed nonetheless, pushing their cocks just a little bit more into Frankie's mouth.

"He's full," Benny murmured, "All filled up."

"Not entirely," Santi chuckled, "But close enough."

Their teasing words, their smiles and their laughs, it was making Frankie crazy. His untouched cock was still bobbing on its own accord, twitching and dripping as they talked about him like he wasn't even there. He was going to come soon, he just knew it, and the thought alone made him whine around his friend's dicks, his eyes rolling back.

"Shh, it's okay, Francisco," Santi reassured him softly, "Just give us one more minute to enjoy this, okay? Will's gonna take a few more pictures. You just stay still and keep suckin' on those cocks."

"You got this, Fish," Benny murmured, "You can do it, you're a good boy."

I am, Frankie thought to himself as he closed his eyes and heard the snap of another photo, I am a good boy.

Will took two more pictures with the camera so they'd each have one, tugging the polaroids out as they developed and waving them in the air. This was better than any porno magazine they'd ever be able to stow away, something real and raw, perfect spank bank material.

"I want the first one, where his eyes are open," Santi told Will when he was done, "Calling dibs."

"You got it."

Finally, Benny and Santi pulled themselves slowly out of Frankie's mouth, leaving him nothing but a drooling, lightheaded mess on his knees in front of them. He gasped for breath, head going down as he coughed and spluttered. He felt Will's hands patting his back, helping him through it as his chest heaved.

"Gonna come all over that pretty face, Fish," he heard Benny groan, "Open that mouth again, gonna fill it up."

With all the strength he could muster, Frankie tilted his head up and shakily opened his mouth again. His jaw was sore and aching but he knew he could last a little longer, knew he could give his friends what they needed before he collapsed in a heap on the floor. He watched as Benny jerked his cock in front of his face, watched the way his precum bubbled and spilled at the tip before being replaced with ropes and ropes of hot cum. If Benny was known for anything when it came to their little extracurriculars, it was certainly the ridiculous amount of spend he was able to produce.

"Right in the back of his fuckin' throat," he groaned, watching as it spurted into Frankie's open mouth, "Knew I had perfect aim." He redirected the head of his cock to further paint more of Frankie's face, covering him with thick white all over his cheeks and lips. "Don't swallow it, Fish," he managed to moan out, "Keep aaaall of it in there for me like the good boy you are."

A few more spurts along his neck and chest, one more in his mouth, and then Benny was tapping the head of his cock against Frankie's tongue again, watching as the last few drops spilled out onto it. Frankie peered up at him with heavy lids, a low moan emitting from the back of his throat.

"Yeah," Benny breathed, tapping his tongue again, "That's for you, s'all for you." He pulled his cock out and took a step back, nodding toward Santi, "Go ahead, man. I think he's spent."

"He'll be okay," Santi said softly, shuffling in front of Frankie again and pressing the sticky tip of his cock to the corner of his cum-filled mouth, "Huh, baby? Can you last a little longer? Just a few more minutes for me?" Frankie nodded and he smiled, "Open wide, baby boy."

"Come on, I don't want him to swallow it yet," Benny said a little exasperatedly as Santi slipped the head of his cock past Frankie's lips, the tiniest bit of Benny's cum dribbling from the left corner of his mouth.

"He won't swallow," Santi murmured, "He's just gonna get my dick a little wet." He looked up to share a knowing look with Benny, like a little secret between them, and Benny turned bright red.

At his words, Frankie swirled Benny's cum around the head of Santi's cock, coating it in the salty substance. He gazed up into Santi's eyes as he did it, almost like he was silently whispering to him, pleading; I'm ready now, I'm ready for you to give it to me.

"Okay, Francisco," Santi whispered, just for him, "Lo has hecho tan bien." You've done so well.

He pulled out of Frankie with a pornographic squelching sound and began to work Benny's cum and Frankie's saliva up and down the length of his cock, still staring directly into Frankie's deep brown eyes. He bit down on his bottom lip, brows furrowing as he brought himself closer and closer to the edge.

"Ask for it," he said quietly, edged with something unhinged.

"Please," Frankie breathed, voice garbled and muffled by the cum in his mouth and the ache in his throat, "Please come on me, Santi."

And that was enough.

"Mierda," Santi groaned out, stomach tensing as his thick cock twitched in his grasp. Frankie didn't close his eyes this time, kept them locked onto Santi's as cum drenched his face. It splashed along his cheek and nose in short bursts, dripped down his neck and collected in the corners of his mouth. Without being able to help it, he popped his mouth open one final time to allow Santi to add more cum to the cocktail on his tongue.

"Christ," Will muttered a few steps away, "Would ya look at that?"

"This," Benny sighed, a smile in his voice, "This is what we needed. Fuck Redfly, man."

In any other circumstance Santiago probably would have smacked Benny on the back of the head for disrespecting the team leader, but he was a little more than preoccupied at the moment. He was still staring down into Frankie's eyes, lost in a daze as Frankie tugged him back into his mouth with his tongue and sucked the last remaining spurt of cum from the tip of his cock.

"C'mere, watch him swallow," Santi gestured for the others to join him, and they all resumed their positions in front of Frankie with heavy lidded eyes as they watched him suck.

"Show us first," Benny murmured, "Come on, Fish, show us what's in your mouth, huh?"

Releasing Santi's cock with a pop, Frankie carefully opened his mouth to show his friends the pool of cum swirling on his tongue, dripping down into the soft pockets of his cheeks. Practically in awe, they all stared as he played with it, twisted his tongue back and forth and moving the thick globs of cum from one side of his mouth to the other.

"Swallow," Santi whispered, and Frankie obeyed.

It felt like heaven going down his throat, thick and warm. His eyes rolled a little, tongue darting behind his teeth to lick any that he'd missed, swallowing again and then dropping his jaw to show them his clean tongue, mouth empty.

"Good boy."

They stood there in silence for a moment, almost in reverence. Frankie was a mess, covered in three thick loads of spend and still on his knees with his cock bobbing against his stomach. He was so aroused it was almost painful, the head of his cock pulsing along with his heartbeat as he waited for an order, a command. He whined a little, waiting for someone to do something.

"Untie him," Santi finally told Benny with a smirk, "I think he's ready now."

Ready was an understatement. So much of an understatement in fact that Benny had barely brushed against Frankie's hands to untie the string when Frankie was suddenly letting out the loudest moan of the night, high and unbridled and full of pleasured desperation. Benny practically ripped the string from his hands to turn around and get a better look, watching with wide eyes as Frankie started to come with his cock completely untouched.

It was truly a sight to behold. His three friends stood frozen with their eyes glued to Frankie's cock as it bobbed and twitched of it's own accord, slapped repeatedly against his own stomach and dipped into his belly button. They watched as thick ropes of cum began to spill from his weeping tip, painting his stomach and chest, his chin, the floor. His balls shivered and tightened, more spurting out again and again as he writhed and shook on his knees, making the most pathetic little sounds as his eyes rolled.

Four loads now.

They were all in shock. They'd known he could do it, had felt him come in his pants untouched more than enough times at that point to know it was possible for him. But Christ, they'd never seen anything like it.

The room went silent as Frankie caught his breath, as he came down from his untouched orgasm and his loud outburst. They all watched as his cock continued to twitch with aftershocks, Benny letting out a soft groan when a little more cum dribbled from the tip. And then it was over.

More silence, save for Frankie's gasps and whimpers. And then Will took a step forward.

"Thank you, Fish," he told him earnestly, patting him on the shoulder and squeezing it gently, "That was... fuck. Thank you. You're fuckin' incredible."

Frankie looked up at him through fluttering lashes and nodded with a small smile, and then Will disappeared back to the bunks.

Benny was next. He got down on Frankie's level and came face to face with him, a grin on his face, "You're so pretty, Frank," he told him softly, "And you did so good. S'at what you needed?" Frankie nodded and Benny ruffled his hair a little bit, "Thanks, man. Thank you. We're gonna kill it tomorrow."

He followed his brother back to the bunks, leaving just Frankie and Santi alone together. Just like Benny had, Santi kneeled down to meet Frankie at eye level, picking up his cap along the way and carefully placing it on top of Frankie's head with a smile.

"Did I do good?" Frankie asked him softly, voice hoarse.

Santiago smiled even wider, pulled the cap down a bit further and murmured, "Si, Francisco. Perfecto."

A sleepy and sated grin lit up Frankie's cum-coated face. He could still feel everything, the thick layer of spend on his cheeks and chest, his slowly softening cock, the ache in his jaw - and he loved all of it. It felt right. So fucking right.

"Can you take a picture?" he suddenly asked, eyes alight, "Of me? Like this? I wanna... I wanna keep it. To remember it."

Santi's eyes softened even more, hand coming up to gently stroke Frankie's bare shoulder, "I can do that."

Santi grabbed the polaroid camera, held it front of his face and peered down at Frankie with a fond smile as his friend looked up at him softly, tiredly. "Show me those eyes, Francisco," he murmured, and Frankie halted the fluttering of his lashes to give the camera his ultimate fucked-out expression, a smile playing at his lips. The camera flashed and Santi pulled out the developed picture, waving it in the air as he settled back down in front of Frankie.

"Look at all this," he murmured softly, reaching up to gently thumb a bit of the cum on Frankie's face and scoop it carefully into his friend's mouth. Frankie sucked Santi's thumb with ease, sleepy and docile.

"S'yours," Frankie breathed when Santi pulled it back out.

Santi raised an eyebrow, "Mine?"

"What you just put in my mouth," Frankie clarified with a flush to his cheeks, "That was yours."

"You can tell?"

Frankie nodded with a soft chuckle, "Yeah, I can tell you all apart."

And if that wasn't the hottest thing Santiago had ever heard in his life.

Getting up from the floor was a bit of a task, but Santi helped him every step of the way. He lead Frankie to the showers where he let him lean against the wall, let him bask in the warmth of the hot water and the feeling of soap and shampoo as Santi worshipped him in a different way, a new way. Pressed kisses to his temples and his forehead, took his time lathering Frankie's arms and legs, gently cleaned his coated face and spent cock. And when he was done, Santi wrapped him in a towel and brought him back to his bunk, laid beside him and kissed him slow and deep until it felt like all that existed was just the two of them, nobody else.

He'd placed the polaroid in Frankie's bedside table and stroked his hair, murmured those familiar soft and gentle praises as he drifted to sleep.

Needless to say, their first mission was a success.

You're lying down with him now. It's well past midnight, moonlight streaming in through your bare-bones new bedroom as you peer at him quietly from under your lashes. He looks tired - he's been talking for over an hour now.

"There's more," he murmurs, eyes drooping, "More happened after that, a lot more, but I-"

"You've told me more than enough," you whisper, "You've been so honest, Frankie." Your thumb comes up to stroke his cheek, your mouth turning up slightly at the corners when his eyes start to close, "Thank you for telling me about that."

He hums, breathes deeply as sleep slowly starts to find him. You can't help but stare at him, watch his face turn peaceful, the lines in the corners of his eyes smoothing out, his full lips relaxing into a natural frown. He's so beautiful. He's so.... good.

You think of him back then, the way he probably used to be. So unsure, so new to the real world and so close to facing things he'd never anticipated. You picture him lying in his bunk with Will above him, Santi and Benny beside him, Tom somewhere else, somewhere distant - it makes sense now. It all makes sense.

And now he's lying in his own bed, in his own house, years later - with you. You, the only thing you think has really made sense to him for a long time, the only thing that's helped him overcome some of life's worst obstacles, the pain and the trauma from the shit he's dealt with throughout his life.

But despite all of this, despite the past few years you've spent together, you suddenly can't help but wonder where he'd be right now if you hadn't met.

Would he be in Santiago's bed?

You slip out from under the blankets and grab your phone from your nightstand, making sure to turn out the light before heading to the kitchen. Your nostrils are met with the smell of fresh paint and leftover chow mein as you flick on the overhead and settle yourself on one of the stools at the kitchen island.

Unsure exactly why, you unlock your phone and scroll through your contacts, biting your lip as you search for Santiago's name. When you finally find it, you tap on it, feeling something odd sink in your heart when you see the lack of messages. You've never texted him? Not even once? You lean back and try to think of the last time you even had a conversation alone with him without Frankie or the others there, just a one-on-one interaction... and you come up blank.

He'd been such a huge part of Frankie's life. And still is now - still sees him on weekends, goes to games and bars, came over to the old apartment for drinks and dinner pretty regularly. He's been there for Frankie in ways you never could have imagined or guessed, took care of him and comforted him, would probably take a bullet for him - hell, he actually might've for all you know.

You look back down at your phone and stare at the blank space where words should be, feel that guilt from earlier rise in your chest and make a home in the form of a lump in your throat.

You start typing out a message.

#frankie morales fic #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x triple frontier boys #PPCUGiftExchange2024 #frankie morales x reader #*

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pseudowho · 4 months

Text

Defending Your Honour

A series in which the JJK guys stick-it to the creeps and perverts bothering the reader.

A multi-fic in a series ❤️🫖☕

Part 1 (Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, and Todo Aoi) link here!

Part 2 (Higuruma Hiromi, Ino Takuma and Itadori Yuuji) link here!

More JJK men and women to come

Trigger Warning: unsolicited dick pics, upskirting, catcalling, threatened sexual assault/reader followed into bathroom

Gojo Satoru

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"Baaaaabe," Satoru whinged from the sofa, at the exact pitch required to set your eyes rolling. You walked back to him, blushing as you felt his eyes roll languidly up and down your bare legs beneath his oversized t-shirt.

Plopping the popcorn bowl down, you sat on the sofa beside him, lazily draping your legs over his lap, tilting your head inquisitively towards him as he teased his long fingers over your thighs. He felt you look at him questioningly, and smirked.

"Nothin'," he shot, "s'too late. Was gonna ask you what movie you wanted, but you're too late. I picked already."

"Oh, really?" You teased, swirling a finger on his pecs, "And what did you choose?"

"Only the cult-classic noughties Anne Hathaway gem...the Princess Diaries. Two." You clapped, squealing with genuine delight as Satoru laughed, pulling you closer onto his lap by the legs.

The movie rolled, and you cuddled under Satoru's arm, taking turns, giggling as you fed each other popcorn. Your phone buzzed, once. You ignored it. Your phone buzzed, again. You ignored it. It buzzed again-- again-- again--

"Someone's popular tonight," Satoru teased, "you wanna get that?" You squirmed uncomfortably under his arm, your lip curled in disgust.

"No, just leave it. Nothing to worry about." Satoru raised an unconvinced eyebrow, but tucked you closer, deliberately missing your mouth with the next piece of popcorn he offered you, shoving it at a nostril instead. You laughed, batting him away.

A few minutes passed, and the incessant buzzing of your phone began again. Satoru felt you tense under his arm. He sat forward, pausing the movie and turning to you.

"Look, you know I won't push for an answer, but...is everything alright?" You turned away from him, lips curled up again, upset.

"This guy from work..." you started guiltily, fidgeting, "...he just keeps messaging me. Won't leave me alone, I-- I've been ignoring him for weeks." Satoru's face pinched in pain and concern. He reached out a hand, threading his fingers through yours.

"Babe...you could have told me." You shrugged, eyes tearing up now. You reached out for your phone, unlocking it.

"I didn't want you to think it was my faul--" you cried out in disgust, dropping your phone into your lap with a jolt, sniffling, face crumpling, "--I'm so sick of this, Satoru."

Satoru slowly reached a hand out to your phone, hesitating for you to stop him. You shook your head tearfully, gesturing loosely at your phone for him to take it.

Satoru's face morphed into something ugly as he scrolled through photo after photo of another man's penis, sometimes flaccid, sometimes hard, held in his hand, covered in cum, in different lighting, at different angles--

"This," Satoru spat, "is not your fault. None of it is." Satoru dropped your phone on the coffee table, turning fully to you again, "Do you know where this guy lives?"

You frowned at Satoru, nodding slowly, considering; "What...are you going to do?"

Satoru's lips quirked at the edges into a dirty little smile; "Nothing for you to worry about. Don't sweat it. I'm the strongest. You know it."

An hour or so later, the owner of the unwanted penis stepped into his apartment, still buzzing after sending you so many good photos, and from the office no less, it was so filthy, so naughty, he just, just knew you'd love it--

"Hey there, guy. I've been waiting for you."

Grabbed bodily by this unreasonably strong, tall, white-haired man, your assailant cried out in terrified indignation as Satoru threw him onto his sofa. Satoru sat on the coffee table opposite him, eyes covered by a black blindfold, spidery legs spread and blocking the man's exit.

"Unlock your phone," Satoru commanded, sounding almost cheerful. The man glared, snarling.

"I'm not unlocking my fucking phone--"

"Unlock your phone," Satoru ordered again, now cold, methodically dangerous, "now."

The assailant reached for his phone with a trembling hand, unlocking it. Satoru held out his own hand expectantly. The man hesitated. Satoru clapped his fingers against his palm, in a display of impatience. Begrudgingly, the man handed over his phone to Satoru, who hummed as he flicked through the disgusting messages the man had been sending you.

"You know," Satoru said conversationally, his words sending shivers of fear up the man's spine, "I kill monsters for a living...did you know that? Probably not." Satoru sucked his teeth, preparing a multi-participant messaging list on the man's phone.

"Got any sisters? Brothers?" Satoru inquired. The man nodded, uncertain. Satoru smiled, as if delighted by the man's cooperation, "Names?"

Shakily, the man reeled off their names, his stomach sinking lower and lower as Satoru asked for more names-- his boss, his best friend, his best friend's wife, his solicitor...

With a happy sigh of finality, Satoru clapped his hands together, throwing the phone back onto the sofa.

"Hope they like your photos, anyway," Satoru chirped to the man, who stared at his frantically buzzing phone as if it were an unexploded bomb, "no takey-backsies!"

Satoru stood, walking to the front door. He paused, turning back slowly, the very air within the flat seeming to crush in around the man with some inconceivable force.

"And if you ever go near my girl again," Satoru offered, calculating, menacing, "the next monster I'll kill is you."

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Megumi and Nobara

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"She doesn't want to go to the book shop with you, she wants to come with me, there's this dress I think she'll look really cute in--"

"--she's my girlfriend Kugisaki!" Megumi snapped, tugging your hand in his so they sat flush against his thigh. You hummed, pretending to consider your options.

"I dunno Megs...if the dress is cute enough, maybe I'll be Nobara's girlfriend instead." Megumi spun to you, appalled, and you laughed as he and Nobara bickered with each other on the way to the escalator.

Ginza was busy, buzzing with the animated, vibrant ebb and flow of the wealthy, and the excitable tourists, and the perfectly-coiffed fashionistas. You, Megumi and Nobara tumbled through the crowd, being reshuffled by the constant bump of passers-by, and you ended up entering the escalator two people ahead of them.

Leaning round to shoot them an apologetic smile, you saw Megumi and Nobara remained embroiled in their sibling-ish argument. You rolled your eyes, facing forward, eyes up to the twinkling lights of the shopping centre.

You thought very little of the twitching of the back of your skirt, so close was the crowd. You heard a cough behind you, loud, barking. You heard another cough, and another, and another.

"Hey-- hey! What the fuck do you think you're doing?" You tried to turn at the sound of Nobara's voice, but failed, shoulders bracketed by the press of the crowd.

"Megumi-- that piece of shit took photos up your girlfriend's skirt! He's covering up the camera noise with coughs!"

"Bastard!"

You cried out as you were shoved forwards, your fingers cracking painfully against the metal of the escalator, and a man in a baseball cap forced his way past you, phone in hand. Nobara and Megumi shouted, in pursuit, Megumi pulling you to your feet as the crowd decompressed at the top of the escalator.

You were confused, humiliated and all turned-around as you staggered at the top of the escalator. Pitying eyes glazed over you in passing, the flow of people giving you a wide berth. You blushed, and clutched the hem of your skirt, feeling so exposed, pulling down the hem at the back.

Megumi had stumbled ahead in chase, but turned back and grasped your hand, his eyes beseeching you to chase with him. Nobara tore off ahead, rounding a corner. You nodded, sniffling, and Megumi raised your clasped hands to his face, pressing a kiss to your palm.

You sprinted together after Nobara and found her pinning the capped man against a wall, effortlessly gripping the front of his hoodie while he squirmed. She was going through his phone, lips twisted in distaste at the intimate photographs he had taken of you.

Megumi approached, fists clenching and unclenching, his nose scrunched in disgust. Nobara held the phone close to her chest, eyeing him inquisitively. Megumi shot you a sideways glance, and shook his head at Nobara.

"Save them for the cops," he snapped, "but for now..." Megumi turned to you; "What do you want to do with this bastard?"

Your lip trembled, and you bit it between your teeth to still it. You felt violated, furiously vengeful.

"I think," you shook out, "we should find this guy a skirt." With matching satisfied, wicked smiles, Megumi and Nobara rounded on your assailant.

The sales assistants manning the changing rooms did not dare approach the scene that was unfolding behind the curtains, some time later. While the capped man frantically sobbed, his knobbly-kneed hairy legs woefully exposed by the cute miniskirt he wore, Megumi kept him arm-locked against the wall, endlessly berating and insulting him, while Nobara knelt, taking miserably unflattering photos of his taint under the hem of his skirt.

You stood back, grimly satisfied as your assailant wept his apologies. As you wiped away tears of mirth, Megumi paused in his bullying for just a moment, to smile at you, eyes soft, warm, full of sincere adoration.

You mused to yourself as Nobara slapped the back of the man's thigh, making him shriek; it's not strictly morally just, you thought to yourself, but I don't strictly care.

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Toge Inumaki

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You found yourself so nervous, the first 'first date' you had had in quite some time. Your date, Inumaki, seemed equally unsure, but rolled with a quiet mischievous confidence that sent butterflies through your tummy.

You had approached him, your outfit suddenly seeming so overdone compared to his hoodie and jeans, and you opened your mouth to apologise for being overdressed. The words stopped in your throat as Inumaki's eyes glimmered with joy, and he gestured up and down your body with one finger, before clasping his hands over his heart and tipping his head back towards the sky.

You pressed a hand over your mouth, blushing, and Inumaki stepped forward to grasp your hands and bring them away from your face, swinging them affectionately in his own. You bumped the side of your head against his, realising with a curling warmth, that he had plaited his fingers in yours as you walked together down the street.

The day passed, in a flurry of arcades, street food, souvenir shopping, buying small gifts for each other...the whole day had been spent in wordless gestures, familiar and comfortable. Inumaki's heart stuttered each time he managed to tease you into a twinkling laugh.

Heading home, hands still swinging together, rich steam and hoppy beer aromas tumbled out of the closely packed ramen shops. You and Inumaki found yourselves pressed uncomfortably close to a pack of young men as you squeezed through the crowd. One man squeezed pricklingly, unnecessarily against you as he passed, the street wide enough to render his intimacy completely unjustifiable.

Inumaki paused, watchful eyes seeing as you drew your shoulders up in defence.

"Oh hey baby! You on a date? Hey bro, your girlfriend just tried to feel me up!" You blushed in furious mortification as your shoulders drew even closer towards your chin, pulling your jacket around yourself, keeping your head down and hoping the assault would just go away.

The young man's pack of friends, four of them, laughed and jeered, taking swigs from cans of beer and turning to join in the game.

"Nice outfit babe! Think I've seen something like it on a street corner near here..."

"Yeah, that jacket ain't coverin' much, sweetheart!"

"Aww, you cold? C'mere baby, I've got something nice and warm for you in my pocket."

As the pack continued to laugh and jeer at you, your happiness shrivelled, and you were reduced to nothing, a pecked worm between birds.

Inumaki raised his hand, slowly drawing his mask down, revealing his unusual facial markings. The pack of men paused, then laughed harder. The original perpetrator raised his beer to Inumaki, and began to speak as Inumaki waggled his tongue in preparation.

"Think you've got a bit of Sharpie on your face, ma--"

"Kiss each other-- like you mean it."

Gripped by something other than his own thoughts and desires, the young man stopped, dropping his can to the floor with a metallic wet thunk...before turning to his friend and grasping his face, pressing a passionate, staggering kiss to his lips. The kiss was enthusiastically reciprocated, and two of the others fought each other for the right to lock lips with the final man.

"Put your hands down his pants."

The crowd around the young men hooted and whistled at the show, as the enforced make-out session grew steamier, beer spilling onto the floor around them, wet kisses sounding through the air, hands down pants, groping.

"Keep going-- really enjoy yourselves."

As the scene before you unfolded into something increasingly erotic and debauched, your jaw dropped, all of your own embarrassment forgotten, and Inumaki raised his mask with a cough. Pulling you to wind through the crowd of onlookers and raised, clicking phone cameras, Inumaki turned and shot you a wink.

You laughed, desperately appreciative, and already planning your second date.

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Fushiguro Toji

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"Toji-- Toji-- I mean it, slow down, I need to pee!"

Toji sighed, brisk and pissed-off (his factory settings), and stopped pulling you along by the hand. He shot you a withering look, until you batted your eyelashes, clasping your hands together as you wiggled at him.

Despite himself, he smirked, glancing away so you didn't see (though you already had), and started scouring the street for public bathrooms.

"Come on, pea-bladder," he mocked, his deep voice slow and drawling, "let's find you somewhere to piss."

"Toji, don't be so gross--"

"Don't be so needy, jeez, or you're payin' for your own dinner." You rolled your eyes, punching his shoulder affectionately. Rounding a corner, a set of public bathrooms appeared opposite a row of shops.

Raising Toji's hand to your face, you pressed a kiss to the back of his enormous fist. Toji pinched your chin lovingly, before spinning you by the shoulders and planting a hefty slap to your bum.

"Hurry up kid. If someone prettier passes while you're in there, I ain't stickin' round." Toji laughed as your jaw dropped, aghast, and pushed you towards the bathrooms.

Toji chuckled to himself as you skipped away, his eyes only briefly registering the figure loitering outside the bathroom as you headed in.

A few minutes passed and you stepped, relieved, out of the stalls and walked to the sink to clean your hands. Sidling from his hiding spot round the corner, a heavy-jacketed man looked towards you as you gasped, immediately backing yourself away against a wall.

"All alone, baby?" The man challenged, tongue sliding across his front teeth as he approached you, a flick knife clacking in his hand. Steeped in terror, your eyes filled with tears, and you were miserably trapped in the corner against a toilet stall. You opened your mouth to beg for your life, but were interrupted by a low, dangerous voice.

"Nah, man. She ain't alone. But you are."

In abrupt, bloody violence, Toji swung a fist, shattering the man's nose and front teeth in an instant. The man's head snapped back and you screamed, spats of blood splattering down to mix with the stale-water-toilet-paper-mulch of the public bathroom floor.

Toji drew his fist back again as the man staggered, Toji's face twisted in filthy, murderous rage; "Chickenshit little coward, I'll fucking gut yo--"

Toji stopped stock-still at your pale little face staring up in terror...at him now, not your would-be assailant twisting like a maggot on the wet floor. Toji felt a hot rush of shame at having been the cause of your terror.

"Babe..." he started, lost for words. You trembled before him. Toji gulped, turning away from you, unable to look you in the eye. As your frightened heart slowed, Toji took a deep, measured breath in through his nose, and out of his mouth.

"I...frightened you. I'm so--" the words caught in Toji's throat, so alien to him. He took a deep breath and tried again; "I'm sorry. Let's finish this guy off together, huh? Before we take him to the cops."

You hesitated, before nodding, tearful eyes smiling up at Toji, sending his belly tumbling. Lifting the bloodied man up by his collar, Toji grinned devilishly at him.

"Swirly..." Toji began to chant, raising his voice as you started to join in, clapping in rhythm, "Swirly, swirly, swirly--"

Other passers-by found alternate public bathrooms that day, put off by the sounds of repeated flushing and strangled wet sobs.

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Ahhh. I managed to find a bit of love even for Toji, who is so SHOCKINGLY in looks and character like my older brother 💀💀💀🫠

864 notes · View notes

huramuna · 5 months

Text

stoatfaced, dragonhearted - oneshot.

dark, mean prince regent aemond x wife reader

for my 200 followers poll, i've actually had this one cooking for a while so i'm happy this option won! this is absolutely filthy, i'm sorry in advance.

word count: 2.4k

i don't do taglists any more unfortunately, its mostly because i never remember and then feel bad about it so i've made a second blog just for reblogging my fics! @huramuna-fics -- follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings!

content: slight dub-con, smut (specifics below cut), angst, mean aemond, toxic relationship, like in no way is this healthy, good god, smut with little plot, reader is described being from riverlands w/ auburn hair and brown eyes, no use of y/n, not beta read, i literally went into a haze writing this there are probably mistakes

tonight you belong to me - patience & prudence • vampire - olivia rodrigo

warnings: p in v, choking, breath play, dom/sub, degradation, creampie, cockwarming, orgasm denial, breeding, aemond is so mean here thats its own damn warning

Aemond knew what he wanted and the sacrifices that needed to be made to get such things. He wanted a dragon, it took an eye to get it. He wanted the Conqueror’s crown, it took his brother being burnt to get it. He wanted a legacy that would surpass his lifetime, etched into the very being of Westeros itself. The sacrifice needed for this would be to chain himself to a woman he likely wouldn’t be interested in.

That is where you came in.

You were sweet, he supposed. Sweet in a way that made his teeth ache. Sweet in a way akin to a mouse and how it looked up at the cat just before his jaws snapped around the mouse’s head.

He didn’t need to like you. Many marriages were forged in dislike or just plain indifference, set to a mutual goal. He supposed your mutual goal was children. All he needed was to use you as a vessel, a womb for his seed to take hold.

You poor thing, you didn’t really understand that he didn’t truly care for you. You were nice enough looking, of course– hair that reminded him of autumn leaves, always styled in some intricate style with half a hundred braids, dozens of pins and decorative pearls. You reminded Aemond of a stoat, dark eyes against muted auburn fur, lips always pursed, sniffing the air in search for hounds on your tail. You certainly were a skittish, jittery little thing.

The marriage was a quick affair, done at the Sept two days after Aemond wore the Conqueror’s crown for the first time. You weren't a part of some major house, all of the major houses were too close, too greedy, their breaths hot against his neck as they shoved their wedable daughters at him. The last thing he wished for was to be indebted to some trivial lord who thought his name elevated him to the same stratosphere as Aemond– a paltry lady of some low house bred in the Riverlands would do just fine, he expected his Valyrian seed to dominate any of their week genes anyhow.

He had met you once before, many years ago before he lost his eye. When he was forced to tag along on some meager diplomacy meeting with his grandsire– he remembers it as being forced, but in reality, he wished to attend. What else was a second son with no dragon to do? – and you had been there, hiding behind your father’s trousers. You had been wearing a blue dress, he remembered this distinctly, as it stood out against the ruby red of the apple you had offered him.

Aemond had tried to speak with you, but you only communicated in nods and soft noises– something you only partially grew out of. He never understood why he remembered this girl, as you were insignificant in the seas of faces he’s met over his life. Mayhaps it was your quiet nature that he remembered, something that, now at his age and state of mind, struck him as malleable, easy to mold into what he needed you to be.

And so it shall be.

–

It was about two and a half moons after your marriage, he returned from a late council meeting. Rubbing his eye, feeling the familiar thrum of pain right behind the socket, he was already in a particularly sour mood. The council meeting had gone south, ending in most of the lords bickering over one another like children.

It irritated Aemond to no end, the strain of an oncoming headache ever looming. He still struggled with intense pain from his eye, or rather, his socket and severed nerves. The pain was debilitating at times and if anyone dared to test his patience when it was particularly bad, he would snap at them like a cornered animal, no matter who it was.

Raising his head, he noticed the hearth was still going strong, multiple candles still lit in the solar, despite it being late at night. The now familiar crop of auburn hair was peeking from behind the couch— his wife was usually never up this late.

“Why are you still awake, wife?” he asked as he took off his gloves, clenching and unclenching his fists.

“… reading. I was waiting for you.” you murmured in your usual hushed tone, the sound of your book closing was louder than your voice.

“I told you not to do that. It’s unnecessary.” he grunted in response, undoing the latches of his leather doublet.

“I-I don’t mind it… I just sleep a bit easier…” you continued, no doubt twiddling the end of your braid between your fingers— an anxious habit.

“You need proper rest. I won’t have my wife looking like a sleepless, sloven mess,” Aemond chastised, discarding his shirt. “Now, what are you reading?” he was becoming increasingly irritated with you, feeling as if he had to force you to take care of yourself and unlatch you like a leech from him. When you looked upon him with your wide eyes filled with uncertainty and fear, he felt the overwhelming urge to wrap his fingers around your throat and squeeze until you passed out or mayhaps went limp, like a doll.

“Oh,” you slid the book towards him on the side table, it was a book on the history of Old Valyria and its language, usually used for children to begin speaking it. “Nyke j-jaelagon… naejot ēdrugon… va ao.” I wish to sleep next to you.

Aemond’s brow furrowed. “What use do you have to learn High Valyrian, wife? Issa dōna ābrazȳrys mijegon nykeā notion isse zȳhon bartos, wanting naejot gūrēñagon mirros ziry daor.” My sweet wife without a thought in her head, wanting to learn something she cannot.

You reached for the book, your comprehension not skilled enough yet to pull what Aemond was saying to you. Before you could grab it, he slammed his hand down on the book, effectively snatching it from your grasp. You pouted her bottom lip. “I want to learn… mayhaps it might bring us closer together.”

Aemond scoffed, the sound sending a sting of pain right into the core of your chest. “We are as close as we need to be, little one. We are married in the eyes of Gods and men and we fulfill our marital duty by trying to produce heirs, hm?” He placed the book back on the shelf. “This nonsense of wanting to be closer is moot. I won’t hear of it anymore.”

A glaze of sorrow flashed through your eyes before you got up from the couch, tightening the housecoat around your shoulders.

“Come to bed,” he said, moreso as a command than a suggestion. “I know you are cold, ābrazȳrys.” Wife.

You made a small noise of discernment, crawling into bed after him.

He looped his arms around you, pressing you to his bare chest. He radiated heat like a furnace and was quick to warm you up– you were always so cold, he noted. He surely hoped that your children together would inherit his fiery blood and not the weak-willed, uninsulated Andal blood you possessed.

Aemond bounced from being indifferent to you, paying you no more mind than a maid or a whore, to needing you, every part of you. He didn’t see you as a person, moreso an extension of himself, latched onto his body until he consumed you entirely, your bones fusing together as one. To him, you were a doll or plaything to entertain him, testing the mettle of your will, to see if you were of poor craftsmanship and would break. He had always broken his toys as a child.

You could tell by the rhythm of his breathing, he wasn’t going to sleep just yet– you’d become very attuned to his moods, his small intakes of air against your neck causing your skin to prickle into goosebumps. His lips ghosted over your throat, one of his arms coming up to wrap near the base of your windpipe, not yet applying pressure, but the threat was there.

No, it wasn’t so much as a threat than it was a promise– he quite liked applying pressure to your airways when you coupled, his lone violet eye centered intently on yours as they went from wide to half-lidded, soft whimpers of pleading to stop, sometimes for more, more. He relished in holding your very life in his hands and you let him.

“Mayhaps I should get you a collar, wife,” he hummed, his voice husky and deep, reverberating deep within your chest as your heart pounded. “But I think you like my hands much better, don’t you?”

“Y-yes,” you breathed, the small swallowing bob of your throat felt against the palm of his hand, causing him to grin. “... I fancy them– on my tender neck… between my legs…” you responded, feeling slightly bold at the notion you put forth. The heat of his body permeated your skin, warming your core into an ever familiar feeling.

Aemond all but growled at your comment, positioning the both of you to where you were laying with your back upon him, as if you were lazing upon him like a chair. “Feeling courageous tonight, are we? No matter, my dear, you will break all the same,” his mouth pressed to the shell of your ear, teeth nipping at your lobe. “Like every night before, and every night to come– your life is in my hands,” he enunciated this with a squeeze to your neck, eliciting a small mewl from you. “Is it not? Say it.”

“M-my life– belongs to you, husband,” you managed to squeak out.

“Not husband, not now. You know the rules.”

“M-my king, your grace,” you rephrased quickly.

He clicked his tongue in slight admonishment. “A bit slow on the take tonight, little one,” Aemond muttered, slotting his leg between yours and kicking your thighs apart. “Keep them open.” his voice was dripping with something between venom and sticky sweet honey. He felt akin to a God every time he was in the sky, every time he sat the throne with the crown on his head, and every time he rested his hand on your pretty little throat as he sheathed himself to the hilt inside of you so easily, so free of resistance. “So slick for me, just from the smallest of chokes– fucking whore.” he hissed, starting a slow, deliberate pace as his hips met against your bottom. The pair of you were like two threads, intertwined with his legs pretzeling around yours, keeping you spread open.

Your breath hitched in your throat as he continued to bully that sensitive, spongy spot within you– but you craved so much more, feeling waves of heat emanate from your sensitive bud as it screamed at your brain, begging to be touched. You made the critical error, thinking your husband was too focused on his own pleasure to notice you going for your own, as your hand slowly descended between your legs, rubbing small circles upon your pearl.

How wrong you were.

His arm came up further, his bicep pressing to the bottom of your chin, his free palm slapping your hand away from yourself. “Are you truly fucking stupid tonight, wife?” he spat, stilling his thrusts. “When did I say you could touch yourself? Have I fucked you stupid already?” Aemond huffed in frustration. “My poor, dumb wife– you cannot do anything right, can you?” he slid you off of him, then flipped over to loom atop you, taking both of your hands within one of his, his large hand encapsulating your wrists with ease, trapping them above your head.

You sniffed, tears welling at your lash line, threatening to spill– not just from his downright mean admonishments, but from your stolen gluttony, your pleasure stolen so close to the precipice. “‘M sorry, your grace,” you cried, “Forgive me.”

“You’re lucky you have such a sweet cunt,” Aemond mused, his immodest and downright sinful language going straight to your core as he nestled inside of you once more, menacing atop you like a darkening cloud. “I forgive you– and will even pleasure you. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To come?”

You nodded fervently, your lamenting tears spilling over and running down your cheeks.

“I’m feeling quite generous, then– I’ll let you. If you beg me.”

“P-please–” you blubbered, “Please let me come, my king.”

A sickly smirk came over his face once more as he pushed forward again, not bothering with the slow and meticulous pace he had before. His hips slammed into yours as he surged into you, as if you were nothing more than a cocksleeve for his pleasure. And yet, and yet– his hand didn’t move to the apex of your legs, chasing his own high before he would give into yours.

“Aemond, please, please– please touch me, f-fuck, your grace– my k-king, please!” you were all but wailing now, half in ecstasy and half in pure beseechment, pleading for just some semblance of the lecherous, stimulating and lewd sensation that only he could give you.

He took mercy on you, the pad of his thumb zeroing in on your leaking folds, giving your clit a cheeky pinch. It was a delightful pain– that was what being with Aemond was, what it came down to. Every waking moment with him was thrilling, sublime, agonizing, unending torture– and you fucking loved it.

Your mouth hung open, you were sobbing freely now, your lips quirked into a euphoric and maddened smile. “Thank you, tha-nk you, t-thank you, I love you, I love you,” you gasped, your lungs ballooning with air as you begged him further, “P-please, around my neck–”

Something animalistic came out of Aemond at your request, his hand draping around your throat like a necklace. “My sweet, dumb wife– you don’t know what to do unless I tell you, unless I let you, unless I guide you to your release, hm?” he prostrated each word with a deep thrust. The combination of his ministrations on your bundle of nerves, the head of his cock callously beating into your sweet spot, and the squeeze of his hand around your neck– it was enough.

With a garbled string of words, prayers, denotes of love, pronouncements of his prowess, his titles, his name– the coil inside of you snapped, lighting every nerve you had in your body on fire. You saw stars as your climax wracked through you like a tempest, the absolute vice grip of your core sending Aemond into his own completion, his seed painting your walls and then some.

In your fucked-out delirium, you thought you might’ve heard him say something– you didn’t decipher it until later when you were half asleep, his softened member still lodged inside of you somehow as he curled you into his chest.

“My love, my wife– I love you.”

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x fem!reader #aemond #aemond one eye #hotd fic #aemond fanfic #aemond smut #dark aemond smut #dark aemond angst #my writing

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lovdlydaz · 8 months

Text

how they react when they see you in your uniform

afab!reader, you play volleyball and you just got home from a game

warnings: nsfw, cunnilingus, praise, degradation, musk kink, man just a lot of sex ngl

a/n: i've been wanting to try drabbles for a while, but i'll come out with fics soon. it'll be drabbles when i'm unmotivated, and fics when i am. hope y'all are okay with that ♡.

oikawa

♡ ————————♡

when you came home off your bus, you weren’t expecting your boyfriend to be on the couch, watching your game on the T.V. he was drooling over the way those spandex hugged your ass and thighs so well, how your ponytail swayed as you went to pass the ball. your body rolled so fluidly, making his cock harden because of how good you played his sport. so, when you came into the room he jumped, then his pupils blew with lust. you were in those same spandex, just in a jacket. he stood up and grabbed you, taking you into your shared room and throwing you onto the bed. his cock was hard as fuck, those shorts he was wearing didn’t really hide much. “you looked so pretty out there babe, i'm sorry i couldn’t come watch you play but you did so good,” he praised you as he pounded into your seeping pussy, eyes rolled back into your head whenever his tip kissed your cervix. you were definitely enjoying yourself, and he kept praising you until he finished. however, when you were both in bed cuddling he would go into your ear and whisper "but i'm better." needless to say, he got a one-way ticket to the couch that night.

ushijima

♡ ————————♡

it was a rough day at practice today. your team had fucked up hard at one of the many national games y'all played, but yesterday wasn't that great. you had fucked up your serves multiple times, had hit the ball into the net god knows how many times, and your hits kept going out. it was horrendous how you barely got to touch a ball today, and your exhausted expression showed when you got home from your car. your lovely boyfriend, who just so happened to be doing his nightly workout, was in the middle of his 6 x 10 reps of pushups when you walked in. he continued to do them, a small 'hey' escaping his lips before he heard an exasperated sigh leave your lips. he heard stuff being thrown on the couch then a flop, quickly hoping up from his little corner in the living room and walking to you. though, when he was about to speak he stopped, seeing you all sweaty and still in your uniform. he felt his heart throb, or what he thought was his heart. but then, he looked down, seeing his rock hard cock and blushing. you opened your eyes to see your large boyfriend looming over you, then feeling something poke you. you looked down to see his even larger cock poking out from his shorts, making you blush as well. let's just say that your spandex, jersey, and entire body was covered in cum that night. and you didn't regret a thing. <3

bokuto

♡ ————————♡

see, you and bo had this sorta complicated relationship. sure you were the sub in bed but bokuto acted as a sort of sub top, whining and whimpering your name whenever he was balls deep inside your pussy. and today was the same as always. you had gotten home from practice, a tired sigh leaving your lips until your beefy boyfriend latched onto you like a leech to skin. "i'm so glad you're home baby! how was practice? did you do good??" he asked like a bright puppy, you could visibly see his tail wagging. you giggled and ran your fingers through his hair, nodding your head and smiling. "yes bo, i had a great practice. how have you been? did you have practice today?" you asked, but then you felt something poking you, and then you felt hungry eyes boring down onto you. koutarou had gone quiet, and he had gotten hard too. it was the way those spandex curved around your waist, your hips and thighs were squeezed through the flexible fabric. you were picked up by your legs and carried into the bedroom, thrown down like a ragdoll before the spandex were ripped off you. his face was shoved into your heat for hours, not letting up until you had passed out. when you did he got himself off from your passed out form, then cleaned you both up and went to bed. just so you know, you were wearing your jersey home almost every day after that. <3

daichi

♡ ————————♡

today was the day of the big game, the biggest of your season actually. so, you had gotten up bright and early to start your day. you took a shower and got dressed, yet your boyfriend who was your #1 supporter and best volleyball coach was there cooking in the kitchen for you. "hey babe, ready to go?" he asked, then he paused. you were sliding your jersey on, tucking it in your spandex and your thighs jiggled as you did so. "yeah, gimme a sec—" and now you were against the wall, getting your brains fucked out of you right before your game. "fuck babe... couldn't resist myself with those pretty thighs of yours..." he whispered into your ear, instantly making you orgasm. he wasn't short after, messing up your insides and causing white to leak from you. you didn't have time to get cleaned up, so when you both got into the car you could feel his cum leaking out of you, which made you blush. let's just say you had a great game, and an ever greater fuck when you got home.

kita

♡ ————————♡

you had had a great day today. your team was playing the best they ever had and it was visibly cheering you up. though, when you got home your boyfriend was cleaning the counter off, seeing your tired yet happy form walk into the house. "hello sweetheart, how was it?" he chirped happily, but his eyes were staring straight at your pretty legs and formidable ass. your uniform looked so pretty on you, and your bust was even tighter in that jersey. he finished wiping off the counter as you told him your day, pressing you into a kiss when you finished speaking. his hands travelled to your thighs and you whined, those were your most sensitive areas. the sex was on the couch, bodies pressed together as you both were feral for each other. kita more than you, but y'know. the sun came up, and you both weren't even close to done. <3

kuroo

♡ ————————♡

your multi-million dollar boyfriend wasn't able to make it to your game. he had tried so hard but he was so busy, yet you didn't mind it. you knew how much he loved you, he showed it to you every day. so, when you were driven home by your personal taxi driver which kuroo also so happened to get for you for your birthday last year, he was sitting in the T.V. room, streaming your game. you were the libero, and he was admiring the way your body moved so nicely to get the ball in the air. hearing you come in he jumped, but then chuckled when he realized it was you. "oh, hey babe," he sputtered with a deep voice, but then his eyes travelled. the way your hair stuck to your forehead, how tight that jersey was and how even tighter those spandex were. he couldn't control himself, and now you were on the bed in doggy position as he rammed his thick cock into your cervix. "this pussy grips around my cock so good... such a slutty player aren't you? wearing those tight ass spandex... fuck, baby you make me go insane..." he murmured all sorts of things to you before you both orgasmed at the same time, making it heavenly bliss for you especially. after that, he got you both cleaned up, but you passed out in his arms before you even touched the bathtub. <3

#haikyu x reader #drabble #female reader #afab reader #haikyu smut #haikyu x y/n #bokuto koutarou #daichi sawamura #kuroo tetsurou #ushijima wakatoshi #kita shinsuke #oikawa toru #bokuto x reader #daichi x reader #ushijima x reader #kita x reader #oikawa x reader #kuroo x reader

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reminiscingtonight · 6 months

Note

Hoodie ;)

I've already done a blurb for this but I actually loved it so much so I thought why not do another one

Hoodie Blurb II:

It was a fool proof plan.

There's this one particular hoodie of hers that you've taken a liking to. It's one of Leah's original pieces of clothing that she got when she first signed for Arsenal all those years ago. So it's sentimental to her in a way.

So for course you wanted it for yourself.

No matter how many times Leah takes it back, not matter how deep on her side of the dresser she hides the worn-down, ratty looking thing, it somehow always ends up back in your possession.

So Leah rolls with it.

It comes to her as a late-night thought. As she's watching your peaceful form sleeping so soundly next to her Leah knows she wants you to be hers. For good.

You're off having lunch with Steph when she does it. Having just done the laundry, it's one of the rare times you've left the hoodie to Leah's care. So slipping the tiny box into the front pocket, Leah carefully folds the hoodie back up, making sure to take extra care to plop it closer to your half of the drawer when putting it away.

When she grabs a pair of socks the next day, Leah's happy to see the piece of clothing gone.

Now all she has to do is wait.

And wait.

And wait some more.

It isn't until the third day has passed and you still haven't said anything about her engagement ring that Leah musters up the courage to say something.

"Babe, have you seen my favorite hoodie?"

"Nope." you pop the 'p,' not even glancing away from the television. But the smile playing on your lips tells Leah you know exactly where it is.

"Well I'm cold. Do you mind finding it for me?"

If anything, you seem to relax into the couch some more, propping your hands up behind your head. "No can do, sweet-cheeks."

Leah narrows her eyes at the pet name. "Muffin-buns, why not?"

At that, you look up, not able to keep a straight face at her choice of words. "'Muffin-buns'?"

"Would you prefer 'honey butter biscuit cheesecake pie'?"

It's quiet as you stare at Leah. Leah does nothing but stare right back.

The silence only lasts three seconds before you're both howling, laughing at the ridiculous pet name.

Clutching her stomach, Leah's wiping away her tears when you shove hard at her shoulder.

"'Honey butter biscuit cheesecake pie'? Baby, why?"

Leah muffles her snort into your hairline as you snuggle into her side, scoffing under your breath about how much you hate her. Here Leah only feels her love for you grow. This is the type of afternoons she wants to have for the rest of her life. Wrapped up around you, swapping jokes and laughter. Leah's heart beats for you and only you and she wants you to know it.

Before Leah can bring up her hoodie again however, you beat her to the punch.

And she instantly feels the ice settle in her veins.

"Katie was shivering after practice today so I let her borrow it. She said she'd return it tomorrow though!"

You've long passed out on the couch, the tiredness of today's training catching up to you. Slipping away into the guest bedroom, Leah closes the door shut before pulling out her phone.

To her relief, Katie's contact picture lights up the screen before she has a chance to press call herself.

"Katie--" Leah starts... Only to be interrupted by a loud, angered Irish accent.

"Mate! Of all of the places in the world, why would you hide your goddamn ring in your stupid little hoodie?! Caitlin nearly passed out thinking I was going to propose when I pulled it out! And then she cussed me out when I told her it wasn't mine!"

Leah cringes. "In my defense, (Y/N) was not supposed to loan you out the hoodie."

There's a slight pause on the other side of the phone. And then a sharp sigh. "Please don't tell me this was you plan for proposing to (Y/N)."

Leah bites her lip. "Okay, I won't."

"Leah!"

Send me a fic title

#leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #Ace writes

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wileys-russo · 7 months

Note

I keep noticing Leah wearing this rly full cross body bag to all the games so far and I’ve just thought how does a girl need so much stuff with her to watch the game?! Maybe a fic where Leah’s gf questions her about the cross body bag, she gets all shy and it turns out she’s carrying something of her gfs (lucky item, fav t shirt etc) to bring luck for the game. Kinda cute x

this is adorable lucky charms II l.williamson

"babe you'll miss the bus if we don't leave now!" your girlfriend called up the stairs, tapping her foot impatiently. "i can't find my lucky socks!" you called back with a groan, practically destroying your shared bedroom as you hunted around for them with no luck.

"just grab another pair love, this happened last week too!" leah sighed, fiddling with her bag as she again checked the time on her watch. "shift it, we're leaving!" leah decided, knowing if she waited around any longer your anxiety would only worsen.

"yeah and look how last week went." you huffed in annoyance, kit bag slung over your shoulder as you thundered downstairs with a frown. "hey, stop." leah grabbed your hands, pressing your body gently against the wall as she looked into your eyes.

"you've never been a superstitious person before, where's all this come from then?" the blonde asked, concerned at these new behaviours which had arisen within you since the commencement of the new season.

"it's nothing, i'm fine lee. lets just go!" you forced a smile, squeezing her shoulders and moving past her, leah grabbing her car keys and following after you, deciding to table the conversation for later not wanting to rattle you any further.

"i really don't see why you're driving me to colney, then back here, then to the emirates. i could have gotten one of the girls to pick me up or driven myself." you shook your head as your girlfriend pulled out of the driveway.

"because i've missed driving you round, do you know how nice it is to not be stuck with you as a personal chauffeur?" leah teased with a smirk as you smacked her leg, hand resting on her thigh as she drove. "watch it williamson." you warned playfully, though it brought leah comfort to see a smile finally settle back on your face.

it was a smile that returned and doubled by the time the final whistle blew to end injury time, you and your girls fighting and scraping for a well deserved three points.

letting out a passionate yell you all but barreled into stina who was the closest person to you, the swede picking you up and swinging you round as a few of your team mates pressed in, all of you hugging and cheering.

"meadoooo!" you hollered, almost tackling the blonde who laughed, tears welling up in her eyes as she hugged you tightly and you mumbled over and over how proud of her you were before she was pulled away to continue the celebrations.

"lessi!" you screamed at your long time friend who was looking around in shock, giant smile plastered on your face as you sprinted at her, jumping into her waiting arms and kissing her forehead, rambling on about how well she played.

"the first goal of many." you promised as she put you back down on your feet.

"hear that? they wanna see ya russo!" katie grinned, joining the two of you and shoving the blonde over to where the fans were chanting for her, her cheeks bright red as her grin only grew. the three of you did your lap, clapping and thanking the fans and chatting among yourselves as jen, steph and caitlin eventually joined you.

you watched as leah embraced your national team mates in bear hugs, watching her mouth move a million miles an hour as she proudly commended everything they fought for the last 100+ minutes.

she caught your eye over alessia's shoulder, giving her one last hug before breaking away as you both started to walk toward each other. meeting in the middle her arms wrapped around you tightly, your face buried in her jacket as her lips lingered on your forehead.

"see? no socks, no problems. i'm so proud of you! didn't stop even for a second." leah breathed out as the two of you hugged tightly, both wishing you could kiss but very hyper aware of the millions of eyes watching.

"i'm sorry for being so fixated on that this morning." you apologized with a small sigh. "so where has all this come from love?" leah asked with a concerned frown, holding you at arms length.

"it's nothing, it's silly." you tried to dismiss it again as leah tightened her grip on you, giving you a knowing look. "i just-" you started, shaking your head. "can we please talk about it later?" you asked with a look around as leah nodded, quickly pulling you into another hug.

"babe what is in this?" you laughed as her bag dug into her hip, leah quickly flinging it over her back with a shake of her head. "nothing." she smiled but you caught the slight blush on her cheeks and gave her a look.

"how do you need that much stuff to watch a game? you bring it with you each week actually! what is so important?" you pushed, leaning around trying to grab the bag as leah shook her head and held you off.

"i'll show you later. team talk time!" she dismissed you with a charming smile, slinging an arm over your shoulder and walking you over to where your team had all begun to huddle together in a circle.

"so i was freaking out about the socks because i never had anything consistent last season and there was just...just so much that went wrong and was out of my control." you started, leah looking up from where she was doing the dishes as you appeared, drying her hands and moving to stand in front of you.

"so i thought that maybe if i had some things i was in control of it might, well it might bring us better luck. but i can't even do that right!" you sighed in frustration, head coming to rest on leahs shoulders as she wrapped you up in her arms.

"see, it's silly." you mumbled into her hoodie. "no it's not silly baby, it makes sense. last season was...well, it happened." she sighed in agreement as the two of you swayed for a moment of comfortable silence, wrapped in each others loving embrace.

"i have to show you something." leah let go, moving past you as you followed her into the hallway, the girl grabbing her bag where it hung up with her jacket from today. "i finally get to see whats in this infamous bag." you gasped happily, clapping as leah playfully rolled her eyes and the two of you sat down.

"well similarly to you i was wanting a way to bring us some better luck, even just from the sidelines until i can be back on the pitch and do my bit properly." leah started as you nodded for her to continue.

"so..." leah trailed off, unzipping her bag and starting to unpack what was in it as your mouth opened a little in shock. "i take these to every game now, and i make sure to sit with them when i watch from home." leah admitted, cheeks blushing rosy pink as she finished.

laid out in between the two of you were what a normal person would deem as just an assortment of very random items, but only you and leah knew the real special meaning behind each one.

there was several very faded movie tickets, you couldn't quite make out what movies they were from but when leah had found out you adored the cinema she'd vowed to take you once a week when the two of you first started seeing one another.

there was several cloth wristbands of differing colors, from the multitude of concerts you'd both been to together. accompanied by your favourite coldplay tour t-shirt leah had bought you when you'd seen them live together on your first anniversary.

there was a key ring from the arsenal foundation that leah had brought you back when she'd traveled around with them after the world cup, as well as the beaded bracelet that she'd made you when she was over in jordan.

there were three medals to finish up the small collection, both yours and leahs euro medals as well as your second place medal from the world cup. and of course, last but not least were your lucky socks and leahs own pair of lucky socks, bundled up together in pairs.

"oh leah..." you trailed off softly, tenderly touching the items as memories flooded your mind and your lips curled into a smile, giving her a look of adoration.

"so thats what i always have with me baby, all my lucky charms."

#leah williamson x reader #woso x reader #leah williamson #engwnt #woso blurbs #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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theehoneeybee · 7 months

Note

i’ve never made a fic request before but here goes! could i get a mike schmidt x reader request that’s something like….

reader is an old friend who fell out of touch with mike but they stumble into each other. one thing leads to another and they besties again <3 but both of them are like ‘wait oh NO they’re HOT’ but both are also too emotionally dense to realize each others feelings. fluff + some angst where one or the other or both think they don’t like each other but they work it out in the end??

+ bonus: abby loves reader and reader is just so good with her (maybe they draw together and reader just older sister’s abby or maybe reader emergency babysits abby and they get along perfectly or smth?) and mike is just *heart eyes*

(sorry if it’s too much… i just love this man oml… the movie was so good ;w;)

thanks~ 🧡

You really slayed with this idea. I'm obsessed. This ended up being longer than I anticipated but I'm not mad. I'm gonna write the bonus one as well in a separate post so keep a look out :) lmk if you liked it!

Word count: 1.9k

.・。.・゜✭・.

"Mike?"

It was unmistakably him. The last person you expected to run in while grocery shopping was Mike Schmidt. The grocery store was always quiet this early in the morning, most people were still asleep. Your hands gripped the handles of the cart tighter as you stared at the familiar stranger.

The last time you saw Mike was not long after his brother Garrett was taken. He wasn't the same after that. The outgoing boy you once called your best friend had disappeared. The loss of Garrett tore his family apart. You tried your best to be there for him but he shut you out, shut the world out. You kept calling him to check in but after months of silence, your calls slowly came to an end.

Even a decade later, Mike looked the same. He had the same curly brown locks and beautiful hazelnut eyes, but now they were accompanied by heavy bags. He slowly turned around, clearly not expecting any recognition today. You watched as his eyes narrowed for a moment, examining you before widening in shock.

"[Name]?"

Mike couldn't believe his eyes. His childhood best friend was standing in front of him, in a random grocery store at 6:30 in the morning. He clumsily shoved the box of cereal back on the shelf as he turned to fully face you.

"It's been a while," Mike says awkwardly. "How have you been?"

"Quite a while." A decade to be exact. "I've been doing alright, nothing special. How've you been, Mike?"

Hearing you say his name again after so many years was surreal. "I'm fine, y'know, same as always."

The two of you stood in awkward silence for a moment. "I have to keep shopping, but," you grabbed a notepad, scribbling down your number and handing him the page. "I'd like to catch up sometime. See you around, Mike."

You strolled down the isle, leaving Mike standing in silent shock. He stared down at the numbers of the page, years of childhood memories flooding his mind. He pocketed the page and promised himself he would call you.

Mike stared at the phone, the numbers staring back at him in anticipation. He was more nervous than he'd care to admit. Mike was going to call you but he kept putting it off. One day led to two, then almost a week later he finally decided to man up. He took one last look at the handwritten number before dialling it in. Mike held his breath as the phone rung.

Ring... Ring... Ring...

He blew it. He'd left it too late and now you're weren't going to pick up-

"Hello?" Mike couldn't speak. The words wouldn't make their way out of his mouth. "Hello?" you repeated again.

"Hi, it's uh, it's Mike."

"I thought you were never going to call."

"I'm sorry," Mike apologies. "I was going to but, I-... I'm sorry," he said with a guilty chuckle.

"I forgive you."

Mike cleared his throat. "I was thinking we should catch up." He twirled the cord of the phone between his fingers like a love-struck teenager. "We could meet at Sparky's tomorrow?"

"Does 11 suit you?"

He nodded before realising you couldn't see him through the phone. "Yeah, 11 is fine." His attempt at being nonchalant was embarrassing.

"Great, I'll see you then Mike." He could hear your smile through your voice. Mike hung up the phone and let out a breath of relief, slouching back into the uncomfortable kitchen chair.

"Someone's got a daaaaate," Abby sung in a sing-song voice from the living room.

"It's not a date!" Mike yelled back defensively. Of course it wasn't a date. Just two childhood best friends meeting up after a decade apart. Completely normal.

Mike stood at the doors of the diner, nervously fiddling with the strings of his hoodie. Not that he'd ever admit it to anyone, he changed his outfit three times in anticipation. Of course he landed on his usual hoodie and jeans combo, but he couldn't understand why he was so nervous.

"Fuck it," he whispered to himself and pushed open the diner doors, the bell chiming invitingly as they swung open.

He nervously walked through the diner before he spotted you. You were sat at one of the leather booths, head resting on your chin as yo gazed out the window. The bright winter sun shone through the window, gently illuminating your face. You brushed a stray strand of hair out of your face. You looked so beautiful. He hadn't mentally prepared himself for that. In his mind, you were still the thirteen year old with braces that he remembered. You looked so different now, but you were still so remarkably yourself. He almost spun around and ran out the diner back to the safety of his car, but he didn't.

"Hey," Mike said quietly as he took a seat in the old leather booth.

You turned to face him and a sweet smile formed on your lips, sitting up straight. "Hey yourself. Here I was thinking you had forgotten about me again," you were serious but you looked at him with a sly smile. Your eyes darted over Mike's face, taking in his features. His curly brown hair shone in the sun. You may have had a little, well, rather big, crush on him when you were younger, and felt similar butterflies in your stomach.

Mike looked down sheepishly. "I'm sorry. I never meant to cut you off like that. It's just after Garrett was taken, I- I couldn't handle it. I shut down."

You held your smile, but your eyes shone with sadness. "I know. I forgive you Mike." He couldn't help the feeling of guilt rising in his stomach. "Now," you said, grabbing your menu. "What are we eating?"

The server who took your order was lovely. While he commented about how great the breakfast menu was, he insisted that the lunch one was nicer. It was the most important meal of the day after all. You ordered a simple meal of bacon and eggs on toast. Mike chose something a little different. Pancakes with ice cream. He always had a sweet tooth. You remembered back to when you would make cupcakes together as kids. Of course, it always ended with one of you smooshing frosting in the others faces.

You dug into your food and the awkward small talk slowly evolved into a conversation between friends. Mike's tired and closed-off demeanour melting away to reveal the talkative, happy kid he once was. The hours passed by in what felt like minutes as you caught up on years of life. Years you had missed out on spending together. He told you about his sister Abby. You never got to meet her since you fell out of contact before she was born. But from what Mike described, she sounded like a lovely girl. The way he talked about her with such compassion warmed your heart. He always was the best big brother.

"Did they every find out what happened to Garrett?" you quietly asked, scared you were pushing a boundary.

Mike solemnly shook his head. "No. They never found him or the guy that took him."

Your expression fell. Some part of you was holding onto the hope that they would have gotten some closure. For Mike's sake. You knew he blamed himself for Garrett's kidnapping. You gently placed your hand on top of his. It was comforting and familiar. "I'm so sorry, Mike."

"Thanks. I've accepted that they're not going to find him." The two of you sat in silence for a moment. "I never stopped thinking about you, y'know?"

Your heart skipped a beat and you felt your cheeks burn. You were certain that after all these years you had faded from Mike's memory. Hearing those words made your heart soar.

"I know you think I forgot you," Mike continued. "But I could never."

The two of you smiled, staring into each others eyes as your friendship rekindled.

"Gosh! They like you Mike. You're so stupid sometimes," Abby insulted, barely taking her eyes off her drawing.

You and Mike had been seeing each other non-stop for the past week. He felt himself longing for your company, wanting you to be by his side. The feeling scared him. He wasn't used to that kind of intimacy. Mike had convinced himself that there was no way you were interested in him. Slowly, he began to distance himself from you. The occasional missed called turned into cancelled plans. He felt guilty about it, just as suddenly as you shit back into your life, he was pushing you out. It was for the best.

Mike groaned and closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the couch cushions. "I don't need dating advice from a ten year old."

The knocking of the door drew Mike out of his misery. Sluggishly, he got up and answered it, immediately standing up straight when he saw you waiting outside for him.

"Hey, um, what are you doing here?" Mike asked with a nervous smile.

"Just stopping by," you said calmly. "Can I come in?"

Mike slowly nodded and let you inside. His house was modest, in need of a few repairs, but it was loved. Abby's drawings were strewn around the place, with even the occasional crayon mark on the wall.

"Don't you have homework to do, Abby?" Mike turned to look at her, shooting her a knowing look.

She smiled. "Nope," but skipped off to her room regardless.

"She looks just like you," you said with a small smile as you watched the girl go.

Mike stared at you anxiously, waiting for you to yell at him, to tell him how terrible he was, but nothing came. You wandered into the living room, kneeling down to look at Abby's drawings. Mike was in almost all of them.

"Did I do something wrong?" you couldn't hide the crack in your voice, not looking at Mike as you spoke. He felt a pang in his chest.

You thought the two of you had something special. You wanted him back in your life for so many years and when you finally had that opportunity, he pushed you away yet again. You wanted Mike back, not just as your best friend, but more this time around.

Mike sighed and stared at you guiltily. "No, of course not."

"Then why are you pushing me away again?" You turned to face him, eyes glossy with tears. Mike frowned and walked over to you.

He brushed a fallen tear off your cheek and you leant into his palm. "I'm just an idiot." His voice was barely above a whisper. "I like you and I don't want to lose you, but that thought scared me. I didn't know if you felt the same so I did what I knew best. I'm sorry."

You sniffled, laughing softly through your tears. "God, I thought you didn't like me! Every time I tried to make a move you completely ignore it."

The fact you had been flirting with Mike this whole time went straight over his head. He thought you were just being nice.

Mike let out an embarrassed chuckle. "I'm just dense I guess. But I do like you, [Name]. I really like you."

"I like you too," you whispered. Mike hand drifted from your cheek, gently tilting up your chin so you met his gaze. In a moment of confidence, he lent in, his lips softly meeting yours. You lost yourself in the kiss, your hand resting on his shoulder as you melted into him.

After a moment, you slowly pulled away. "Promise not to leave me again?" your lips brushed against his as you spoke.

"I promise."

#🧡#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #fnaf x reader #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #william afton #abby schmidt

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cas-writes-stuff-ig · 1 month

Text

Part 3 of Cheering Her Up (A Float)

f!/nb! reader x regina george

CONTENT:

Word Count: 3203

The morning after the party

You and Regina go spend time in the pool together (you brought a duck float)

Regina shoves you in the pool

a little bit of suggestive flirting

some comphet/internalized homophobia/weird mixed signals type stuff

you're bonding with Kylie (Regina's little sister)

very mild angst/one-sided pining (at least you feel like its one-sided)

Part 1 of Cheering Her Up

Part 2 of Cheering Her Up

Part 4 of Cheering Her Up (coming soon maybeeeee??)

a/n:

sorry i've been missing in action for like 2 months, life's been sucky. Also I tried writing some smut for the end of this chapter but I decided to move it to the next chapter. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it (I'm not necessarily happy with this chapter I just was bullshitting around a little)

OH ALSO i'm like about halfway done with that wine drunk fic with Leighton do expect that soon :]

——————————————————————————————

In the morning, since you were slightly hungover, you didn’t wanna cook and Mrs. George went out for some errands, so you and Regina went out to get breakfast. You gulped down two cups of coffee to help with your head, then asked her to drop by your house to get your school bag. “Gina I’m gonna take a bit, I’ve gotta find something. I’ll drive back to yours soon” You got out of the car.

“Okay, bye loser, I’ll see you there,” She said and then drove off.

You walked inside and you had to explain to your dad you were fine and you just needed to grab some stuff to do homework with Regina. He was indifferent about what you did or didn’t do, he just cared that you weren’t arrested.

——————————————————————————————

"Your family gonna be out long?" You asked after about forty minutes of mutual silence on your phones. It was Saturday and you both finished the little homework you had over an hour ago, and you had this itch to take a dip in her pool again.

"Probably, why?" She asked

"I bought a pool float, just say it's for your sister. I'll leave it here" you said sheepishly.

She was unimpressed with your excuse "Mmhm, you know she can't swim well"

"Precisely why I got one, now she can enjoy the pool" You argued back

"Fine, let me get changed. I'll meet you down there" Regina got up and walked into her closet. "You've asked to swim in my pool so many times. At this rate, you should just join the fucking swim team" She said sarcastically, and you walked toward the hallway.

"Whatever, your pool is just nice to hang out in" You left her room and jogged down the stairs to your car.

Regina walked down the stairs after changing, holding two towels and water bottles, she saw you sitting on the ground in a sleeveless t-shirt and your boxer shorts, blowing up a fucking duck floatie. "Hey G" you were out of breath "I forgot my swim trunks"

She tsked at you “You brought a float, but not your swimsuit?" She left the glass door open.

"Uhhhh, yeah. I know I know it was dumb" She walked past you, flicked your forehead, earning an “ow” from you, and went to sit on the lounge chair. When you filled the entire float with air, you plugged the hole and held it above your head. "Success!" You put it in the water next to the edge of the pool.

It was a pretty big floaty, it could easily fit two people on it. You carefully climbed onto the float "Regina, get in on this" You put your hands behind your head and relaxed, closing your eyes.

"You look stupid." She said glancing up from her phone, she was taking a secret photo of you. Part of her wanted to replace your contact photo with this one, but she didn’t.

You opened your eyes and scolded her "Hey, you could've said no to the pool, just get on here. Don't let my hard work go to waste" She started playing music. Wordlessly she got up from her chair and sat on the float with you. "Wow, I didn't think you'd actually listen to me"

"I'm taking pity on you actually," She said conceitedly, you just flipped her off and closed your eyes again. So you both just laid there, basking in the last few weeks of warmth before the cold came in full force.

——————————————————————————————

The float had drifted from the edge to the middle of the pool. You had about twenty minutes of peace before you felt Regina's hands under your back and she shoved you off the float when you were least expecting it. A short cry of surprise was quickly muted by your head falling under the water.

You resurfaced and quickly grasped one of the flimsy plastic handles along the edge of the float while she was calming down from laughter "That was uncalled for!" you said "You find too much pleasure in my demise, Regina"

She faked her remorse "I would never do such a thing" she tilted her head to the side.

"Then can you help me back on?" you asked.

She grinned mischievously and crossed her legs. "No" she waved her hand like she was dismissing you "Swim along little duck"

"Fine then" You started to claw your way back up on the float, bending one of the edges and letting Regina sink in the water a little bit.

"Hey, what are you doing?!" Regina exclaimed as half her body was underwater due to your uncoordinated efforts. You finally got back on the float, you were on your stomach, and your head turned toward Regina. She was slightly irritated, and you just grinned at her. “You’re so annoying,” She said to you.

“You coulda helped me back up, you know? And if I’m so annoying, why do you still let me hang around?” your voice was playful. You decided to push the flirting a little more “You sure you’re just hanging around because you pity me? Is it for homework?” You shifted to lay on your side, head resting in the palm of your hand. “Or do you have a crush on me?” Your tone was joking but you were serious in your head.

Whenever you insinuated that your relationship was a little romantic, she would become testy.

Your words pushed on Regina’s nerves, but she didn’t let it show on her face too much. She rolled her eyes. “Dream on nerd, I could care less about dating anyone right now. I’m not really gay.” She hated when you’d say things like that because she felt turmoil in her chest about the relationship you had with her, she didn’t want to think about what it meant.

You knew her words were bullshit, the things she did with you spoke louder than words, but it still stung to hear her say that. You hid your disappointment and just said “Uhuh, whatever floats your boat Gina” She’s been like this throughout the entire situationship. Contradicting herself, going between acting like you were the only one in the world who knew her, or like what you had was nothing.

This wasn’t good for your poor heart, but you were a fool, a dumb, lovesick fool, and you couldn’t help it. You knew she cared a little though, so you clung to the moments she had let you in, where you held each other like nothing else mattered.

She deflected the topic of romance quickly, “Go check my phone, my mom and Kylie might be back soon”

“But it's all the way over there, and I just got back on” You whined but you got off anyway, since she had a point. You grabbed one of the handles on the float and tugged Regina with you to the edge of the pool.

Regina snickered at how quickly you complied “You’re so easy, baby” You tried to ignore her, but she continued. “So obedient” Her voice was suggestive and teasing, your face reddened and you felt her words go straight between your thighs. You glanced over your shoulder trying to glare, but it looked more like a pout.

You reached the edge, stepped up and out of the pool, and walked toward the lounge chairs, drying your hand off with a towel to not get her phone wet. You looked back at Regina, “She said she’s gonna be home in about forty minutes, and it was sent like 26 minutes ago”

“Mm, okay,” She sounded mildly annoyed since you only had the pool to yourselves for less than an hour. Regina wanted to thoroughly enjoy the last few minutes of solitude with you. She got off the float “Come here”

You walked towards her, stepping into the water again. Regina had a hand on your shoulder, and right when you grabbed her waist about to pull her in closer for a kiss, you heard Regina’s mom say loudly “Hey guys!” as she opened the front door. You both instantly moved away from each other and got out. Mrs. George was holding some grocery bags and Kylie followed behind.

You and Regina already dried yourself off quickly, you hung the towel over your shoulder and walked inside. “Hey Kylie” Regina greeted, and Kylie gave a curt “Hey” back and then walked up to you.

“Hi, Mrs. George. Hey little George” You smiled and then crouched down so you were closer to eye level with Kylie. You stuck your fist out and Kylie fist-bumped you.

“Hi, Y/N” She liked it when you and Regina were around. Kylie went on about her day to you. Regina was a little further away, and you made eye contact, Regina pointed at her sister and you, then mouthed ‘Traitors.’ You had to hold in your laugh and divert your attention back to her little sister. “Oh! And we’re going on a field trip to the aquarium in two weeks”

Before you could answer, Regina’s mom called you all over to the kitchen. “Kylie have your lunch” She placed a plate on the table and Kylie sat down. “You guys hungry?”

Regina looked at you, meaning it was up to you “No, I’m okay. Thank you” you said.

“Okay” her mom always sounded enthusiastic “Why don’t you invite Gretchen, Karen, and the new girl Cady to hang out with you guys in the pool?”

“Uh-” Shit, you blanked on excuses

Regina cut in quickly “Gretchen and Y/N aren’t really on good terms mom, I’d rather not get into it” Which wasn’t true, Gretchen was in one of your classes and you were good acquaintances, which is why you and Regina had to be extra careful around her. Her special talent for getting people’s information was really incredible.

“Oh, okay honey” She moved on obliviously “I’m going to run a couple more errands, do you mind watching Kylie, Regina?”

Regina took a quick glance at her sister who beamed at the idea of hanging out with both of you. “Sure, Mom” She wouldn’t show it much, but she really did care for her little sister.

“Great! I’ll be back around seven or eight tonight” Ms. George leaned closer to you “You both are welcome to drink whatever alcohol I bought, it’s in the fridge” She picked up her purse and left quickly. “Bye girls!”

——————————————————————————————

Regina had taken out the margarita mix from the fridge and took out two glasses. Kylie finished her lunch and then grabbed a juice box from the fridge, “Hey little George, wanna hang out in the pool for a little?”

“Sure!” She grinned and gulped down her juice box, leaving it on the table, then dashing up to her room to change.

Regina cleared her throat to get your attention, then held up the two glasses with ice, insinuating for you to drink with her.

“Again?” You rolled your eyes, she poured you a glass and handed it to you. You took it anyway. “Fuck it, it’s Saturday” You downed it quickly and placed it down on the counter, Regina smirked and poured you another without asking if you wanted more. “You’re gonna be the reason my liver gives out in my thirties, Regina”

She began to walk away, bringing the glasses with her “You could say no, and I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to sip it, not chug it” She stepped back out to the backyard, and then Kylie returned in her swimsuit.

“I’m ready let's go!” She skipped through the house and to the pool, and you followed behind. Regina had already settled on her lounge chair, drinking her glass. You sipped yours too, already feeling the burning down in your stomach. You heard Kylie gasp audibly at the sight of the float, then she whipped her head around to look at the both of you.

“I got you a duck float”

“Because you don’t know how to swim” Regina added under her breath, but Kylie heard her.

She defended herself “I know how to swim! It’s just hard.” You placed your drink down next to Regina and walked over to dip yourself in the shallow end, Kylie followed suit, and while the water only reached about a third of you, it went up over half of Kylie.

“Take it easy, you just ate okay?” You were trying to be mindful, and you pulled the float for her to grab “You can hold onto the float while you swim too, but your mom should really sign you up for lessons”

——————————————————————————————

Twenty minutes went by and you were trying to teach Kylie to swim more effectively, but you weren’t particularly great at it either, so you opted to teach her how to tread water. You were in slightly deeper water now so she could practice, but shallow enough that your feet still touched the floor of the pool. After a bit, you successfully taught her how to not drown. “Hey good job little George” She reached for the float handle to take a break.

“You want to get on the float now?” You asked.

“Yeah,” she said and you held the float for her as she clambered onto it, she sat cross-legged, then you let go to float on your back, still holding the float to not drift away. “Y/N,” Kylie whispered a little, “How come you’re not dating anyone?” You were taken aback a little bit and shifted to stand in the water.

“Uh,” you thought for a second, also whispering back despite being a good ways away from Regina “I don’t know, but I’ve been in relationships before. Why you being nosey, George?” You kept your tone light.

“No reason, I like to know things. Do you like anyone then?” She pried.

Her intrigue about your life was cute, so you entertained her curious antics a little “Mmhm, do you?”

She started to pry more “No, boys are stupid. What’s their name?”

You snickered at how similar Kylie was to Regina “You sound like your sister, Kye. Also, it doesn’t matter, you don’t know them anyway” you lied.

Kylie pouted “I won’t tell anyone, not even Regina”

“Okay, their name ends with an ‘A’” You whispered teasing her a little.

Both of your voices started to rise in volume, “That's not fair, there are so many names that end with ‘A’, give me something else to work with.”

“Nope, sorry Little George” She crossed her arms and frowned at you, “Oh come on, I bought you a float, you can’t be mad at me.”

Before either of you could continue your argument Regina cut in “Why are you upset Kylie?” She now sat at the edge of the pool with her legs in the water.

“They won’t tell me who the-”

You covered Kylie’s mouth quickly with your hand and into her ear “Don’t say anything to Gina, I’ll tell you later, I promise” You took your hand away from her mouth and held out your pinky “Please.” You didn’t want Regina to push you away, so you lied to yourself and tried to convince yourself that you could keep this casual. You both convinced yourselves this was casual.

“Fine” Kylie took your pinky, and you connected the tip of your thumb to hers locking the promise.

“Kylie, finish your sentence,” Regina said. Kylie glanced at her and then back at you, you held a finger up to your mouth, and Kylie zipped her mouth closed with her hand and pretended to throw an imaginary key away. Regina looked irritated, but if she found out you liked someone, she would force the answer out of you.

She was about to ask you, but then you copied Kylie’s gesture by zipping your mouth closed. “We’re sworn to secrecy”

She just rolled her eyes at you. “You’re such a child”

“Hey!” Kylie acted offended

You defended Kylie “That’s ageist Gina”

——————————————————————————————

Eventually, you went back inside it was about 5:30 now. “I’m showering first,” Regina announced “Use the guest bathroom to shower,” She told you.

“Okayy” You gave her a thumbs-up, she had filled your glass twice just 10 minutes ago, and you weren’t usually outwardly drunk, but your demeanor was more bubbly. Regina walked up the stairs and left you and Kylie alone.

“Hey you owe me” Kylie got your attention.

Shit, you should’ve just told Kylie you didn’t like anyone, or that you were still getting over your ex. “Kye, really?” You lay down on the floor, that last drink was hitting you, not enough to be visibly drunk, but enough for you to have a blabbermouth.

“Yeah,” Kylie sat down on the floor next to you. You heard the shower upstairs turn on.

“It’s a girl” You sort of liked playing these games still, it was mildly entertaining for you.

“Okay”

“Starts with an R”

“So my sister?”

“Don’t tell her little George. You get no more details” You whispered. You should not have been telling a little kid this, especially her sister. But you were tipsy and with no one else to confide in, you told her anyway. “If you tell her I’ll take that float back” You kidded.

She held out her pinky to you “I won’t tell, pinky swear” You locked your pinky promise again with her. “I kind of like this one guy in my class”

“I knew it, you little liar.” You sat up and ruffled her wet hair “So Kye has a crush huh?” She gave you more details about her crush. It was pretty adorable. Kylie detailed her crush being put in the same group for the upcoming aquarium field trip. Eventually she asked you more details about your crush on Regina.

“Why don’t you tell her you like her? You guys are always together.” Kylie asked you.

You hesitated when answering her question “Highschool social hierarchy is hard to explain, but being gay isn’t exactly great for your social status, plus I’m not exactly popular. And your sister–no one actually knows we’re friends aside from you and your mom.”

“But you guys are close friends, as close to Regina as Gretchen and Karen. And I think you are more fun to hang around than Aaron”

You smiled at her “I know, little George, you’re so sweet, but it’s hard to explain why I can’t tell her.” You couldn’t outright tell Kylie her sister was essentially very homophobic outside of the house. “Things between us are weird and complicated, but I don’t think she will ever like me like that, thats all”

Kylie frowned at that, you placed a hand on her shoulder “Don’t look so down. Trust me little George, it’s better she doesn’t know”

You both heard the shower shut off. Regina was in her robe and she peeked down the stairs seeing you and Kylie were still sitting at the bottom of the stairs talking. “Hey, what are you doing? Get washed up already”

You stood up, “That’s our cue,” you offered your hand to Kylie and helped her up “Go shower before the beast gets mad at us” Kylie let out a little laugh.

(lowk i kinda hate this may or may not delete/archive this)

#mean girls #regina george #regina george x reader #mean girls 2024 #x reader #fluff #renee rapp x reader #regina george x y/n #regina george x you #regina has comphet and it's confusing you #she sends so many mixed signals #also you're bonding with her little sister which is absolutely adorable

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