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deathbecomesthem · 3 months

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Ready, Steady, Go

MINORS DNI - STRICTLY 18+

*This is a reupload from my old blog. If you think it looks familiar, it's because it probably is.

Part 2 of Three's Company

wc: 2.8K

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader Everyone is about age 30 in this one, think mid to late 90s. This chapter is Steve Harrington x Reader smut.

A/N: This is a Steddie x Reader story, but this chapter is the first time that Steve and the reader are intimate with one another, one on one, without their mutual lover Eddie.

Contains: Poly relationship dynamics, smut (oral and vaginal), and lots of feelings. It's so soft guys.Keep reading

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Steve and Eddie have maneuvered through their relationship quietly. They’re still long time roommates to many of the people in their lives. They don’t hide themselves away, but they don’t invite many people in either. It’s not just for their personal safety, but their emotional well being is a priority. Sometimes, it’s too much to bear to think about losing a dear friend or family member for just being who they are.

What no one had really considered before opening the relationship to add you in was the fact that you made it possible for them to go places together that otherwise might be viewed with suspicion. There was no point in focusing on the injustice of that, bitterness can turn a good thing sour. No one wants that. The three of you are finding ways to fit your lives together, and so far it’s been shockingly natural. With love at the center, the rest seems to just fall into place.

So, why are you so nervous right now? A weekend alone with Steve isn’t something out of the ordinary - but this is the first time the two of you will be alone since you’ve been intimate. Eddie has always been there until now. What if there’s nothing without your shared love to hold onto? It’s a niggling fear that flits to the forefront of your thoughts when you least expect it. What if this is the way the end begins.

You’re sitting in the chair in the corner of Eddie’s bedroom watching him pack his bag. He’s leaving in a half an hour, Eddie’s never been good at planning ahead. Unsaid concerns have turned into a lump in your throat. You can only sit and watch him move from the closet to the bed, snapping his fingers together when he remembers an item or two that he almost forgot to pack. And then he breaks the silence.

“What do you and Stevie have planned this weekend? I’ll miss you two so much.” Eddie’s tucking a fourth pair of black jeans into the corner of the suitcase, far too many for the three days he’ll be gone. He��s likely to forget to pack any socks, but have enough pants to last a month.

“Oh,” you pull your legs up to rest your feet on the edge of the chair. You’re pulling yourself in, making yourself small, “I don’t know. We haven’t talked about it. I might just spend some time by myself.”

Eddie slows his movements and sighs a little to himself before saying, “I thought it might be nice if you two spent some time alone together.” Eddie moves toward you, and drops down to his knees in front of you. He lays his head in your lap, “I know you both, and I love you both. I see it, ya know? There can be more between the two of you, if you let it happen.”

You don’t respond, but you let the words roll around in your head while you run your fingers through his hair. Yes, he’ll only be gone for a couple of days, a short weekend trip to visit Wayne and go fishing, but you ache at the thought of his absence. He is your heart. For him, you will try. And for yourself, too.

—

Steve comes home an hour after Eddie’s already gone. You make a point to be sitting in the kitchen with a pot of oolong when he walks through the door. A loaf of banana bread is cooling on a wire rack on the counter, a treat you know he can’t resist.

“Hey,” Steve’s smile is wide when he catches sight of you. He kicks his shoes off by the door and heads over to kiss your head in his usual greeting. “Oh, ho ho, is that what I think it is?”

“Mmm, yes it is. Fresh out of the oven. Look at what a good little homemaker I am.” You flutter your eyes at him and smile. “Let’s have some and spoil our dinner. I made tea.”

Steve immediately gets to work pulling out small plates from the overhead cupboard, and setting the butter dish on the kitchen table. You see him breathe in the smell of the bread deeply when he cuts the first slice, it’s still warm enough that steam rises from the loaf when the knife cuts through it.

You love seeing him like this. Steve finds the joy in these little things, and even before the dynamic shifted between the two of you, offering Steve little treats was always one of your favorite things.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but I’m not complaining.” He sits down and melts into the chair. His glasses fog when he takes his first sip of tea. You’re studying him, watching the way he tastes the bread and drinks his tea. You watch the muscles in his jaw. You watch him suck the crumbs off his thumb. He really is very pretty.

You ignore the fear inside you, and do what feels natural. You sneak your foot over to his, and rub the arch of his foot with your big toe. He grins at you through the still foggy lenses. His other foot rubs the side of yours. This game of footsie while you eat banana bread at 5:30 on a Friday evening feels more intimate than when you swallow each other's moans under the covers of Eddie’s bed.

“What do you want to do tonight, Steve?” You pinch the top of his foot with your toes in conjunction with the question. Playful and light to hide the anxiety. Because you don’t have plans with Steve tonight, and you don’t have the kind of comfortable relationship that you and Eddie share where time together is a natural thing that just happens.

“Tonight? Oh, I don’t know,” there’s genuine surprise in his voice, as if the idea that the night might come never occurred to him. “What about you, Honey? Think you might want some company?”

Honey. The name is warm and sticky, it sends a tingle down your spine. It’s better suited for the man sitting across from you, with his gold flecked irises and the amber highlights threading through his graying hair. Never mind his sticky sweet nature.

“That would be just the thing, Stevie. I’m already lonely with our sweet muppet gone. We can keep each other company, hm?”

Steve sits up straight, lighting striking him, “Oh! I know what we can do.” He jumps out of his chair and strides over to the drawer next to the dishwasher. He fiddles around in it, and pulls out a paper menu. It’s the place around the corner that Eddie hates. You tried to make him love the unique dish that reminds you of home, but he turned his nose up at it. The same man that eats Vienna sausages and Velvetta won’t even try a plate of the surprisingly complex dish that is Cincinnati chili.

“You just scored big points, Stevie. Throw in a couple of cannoli from Angelo’s, and I’m yours forever.”

—

With full bellies, it was natural the way you fit into his side while the blue glow of the television screen played your favorite John Hughes film. Steve’s hand runs up and down your arm, but his eyes stay on the screen - he loves these kinds of movies, and it’s rare when he can enjoy them without the moaning of your shared boyfriend. For you and Steve, this is an experience neither of you realized you were missing. It’s warm and lovely to be with him like this. Quiet and secure. Held. And you want him more than you thought was possible. You want his hands on you.

You’ve been in the dark with Steve and Eddie. You’ve shared the heights of pleasure with them both. But you and Steve have yet to cross the line into lovers. You’ve mapped Steve’s beautiful body with your eyes, your mouths have met in passionate kisses while Steve’s cock is inside of your boyfriend. You wonder, will he have you?

This is when you decide it’s worth the risk of rejection to see if he also wants to see where the night could take you. You turn your head and look up at his face. You can see the moles scattered across his skin under that blue light, and you speak.

“Stevie,” your voice is a whine, betraying the sudden need that’s building in your gut, “you look so pretty right now.”

The blue light of the television screen across the room flashes in the lenses of his glasses when he whips his head to face you. You can’t see his eyes, they’re obscured by the glare. Steve leaves nothing to the imagination, he doesn’t make you wonder. He takes off the acrylic frames and searches your eyes. Satisfied with what he sees, he smiles as he cups your face and leans down to kiss you.

Slow. The eagerness is there, it would be a disappointment if it was missing, but it’s slow. He’s tasting you, savoring the flavor of your lips - red wine, salty popcorn, and mint lip gloss. You think you could stay like this, open mouths searching one another, teeth scraping soft lips, forever and never tire of it. A wide palm instinctively finds the bare skin at the small of your back, a thumb strokes your spine.

“Steve,” the word released into the air between your mouths makes him dizzy. “Stevie, please.”

Steve breaks the kiss to rest his head on your forehead. The air between you is heavy and humid. Your eyes, blurry from the closeness of your faces, bore into his. Any question either of you may have had about whether there is something between the two of you without the affection of your shared lover evaporates into the air with your shared breaths.

“I want to see you, Honey. You’re so pretty.” Steve closes his eyes when he tells you this. And you think, how could I deny a request like that from this man.

His eyes remain closed as you stand. You take your hand in his, and pull him to his feet. Neither of you realizes the film is still playing on the screen in the living room as you lead him down to the room at the end of the hallway. Your room.

Steve stands and watches you while you undress. He’s seen you this way before, many times. He’s never failed to see the beauty in your form, but it’s different right now. Quiet. He can watch the way your hands move. He can see the muscles flex in your shoulder as you reach behind your back to unhook your bra. He can see each soft curve of your skin and admire them.

Eddie isn’t a distraction. Eddie is a force of nature. Eddie is the sun. It’s easy to be blinded by him. His absence tonight allows the light to stay low, it allows movements to slow. It allows you and Steve the space to look at each other and spend the time. Your only regret is that Eddie can’t be a fly on the wall to see these quiet moments between the two loves of his life.

You don’t feel insecure as you kick off the small piece of fabric from your ankle, letting your black panties hit the shin of Steve’s jeans. You feel powerful. He’s eating you up with his eyes. You can practically see smoke leave his nostrils when he huffs through them, lips tight. His jaw is clamped, while you crawl onto the bed, allowing him a full view of your slowly swaying ass.

“Jesus Christ. You’re gonna kill me.” Steve is still standing at the end of the bed as you present yourself, laying on your back, legs spread. Your hand roams your chest and stomach, dipping to the soft pubic hair - touching the places where you wish his hands would search.

“Stevie. Are you just gonna stand there?” Your words are soft. A hand grasps one of your breasts, squeezing it. Desperate to feel something. The open air between the two of you is too much. Steve doesn’t bother with his own clothes, his fingers are aching. They’re empty, and are desperate to feel your soft skin.

Slow. Deliberate. A steady hand travels down the valley of your chest, long fingers brushing gently across your skin. Gooseflesh erupts along their path. You’ve been holding your breath in anticipation of his touch. His attention. He’s focused on only you tonight for the first time, and you are full.

“Your skin is so soft.” Steve’s voice breaks the silence, and you release the air from your lungs. “Look at you.”

You can’t look at yourself, so you look at him. The moonlight sneaks through the blinds, reaching out for him. Bathed in moonlight, you see everything. You see him. You smell him. You feel him. Even now with his lust clouded mind, his hands are steady and searching.

Featherlight touches travel past your navel. Your breathing hitches when he gently strokes against your already swollen clit. He continues to the silky smooth lips below, and runs up and down. He delights in every one of your hitching breaths, a crooked smile spreads across his lips.

“You’re wet, Honey, and I’m so thirsty. Can I have a drink?”

You open your mouth to respond, but you have no words. He doesn’t wait for them, he dips his head down. He smells you. He’s smelled you before against Eddie’s skin, but from the source it’s intoxicating. He opens his mouth and keeps his eyes on you while he takes his first taste.

Steve hasn’t tasted a woman in years. He hasn’t missed it, not really. Right now, though, he cannot believe how sweet you taste. How soft your thighs feel. He can’t get over the way the fine hairs on your skin stand up with every little touch he offers. His fingers sink into the flesh of your ass as his tongue moves. You’re so slick. He can feel the way your little button grows under his tongue. His cock aches to feel you around him.

Not yet, Steve, he reminds himself. He can feel you shuddering under him. He can see your eyes flutter. He needs you to come. You’re close. He closes his lips against your clit, and sucks gently while running his tongue against you with a persistent pressure.

Gone. You’re gone. You can feel fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass, keeping you from floating off the bed and into the air. You can imagine yourself drifting off through the vastness of space fueled by the ecstasy you feel. Your body trembles. You cry out for him, you cry out for your Stevie. Your sweet boy.

Your cries of his name undo him. His lips are still attached to you, still letting you ride out your orgasm while one of his hands unzips his pants. His cock aches. The immediate need, releasing the painful constriction of his jeans, isn’t enough. He needs to be inside of you. Your eyes finally meet his again.

“Please, Steve. Please. I need you inside me.” Your begging is met with a groan against your cunt. His lips let go, and you see how red they are. Swollen from their work. You rock against nothing at the sight. The slow and steady movements are gone now. Steve throws his shirt - pants - socks - boxers - to the side with speed. He’s laid bare in front of you, a marble statue brought to life.

Your legs open to receive him, and he slots between them. Steve fills you up with the first thrust, and you’re seeing stars. You’re vaguely aware of the sound leaving your throat, something between a moan and a cry. Steve’s hand is in yours, a thumb runs against a finger in a soothing way. You both sink into each other. You both feel everything.

“You’re so soft.” Steve’s soft whisper against your neck vibrates against your skin. “So soft. You feel so good.”

Soft words are contrasted by rough thrusts of hips desperate to push your bodies to connect as deeply as possible. Mmm, so good. So fucking good, Stevie. Steve is gone. He can’t be reached now. He’s lost in the soft flesh of your body under him. He’s used to the sharp angles of Eddie. His mind is gone, his body is moving on its own. He can feel how close he is already, lost in your warmth.

It’s not a lightning crash. Not an earthquake. It’s soft, like every other moment between the two of you. Steve’s face in your neck, his hand gripping yours. He comes undone with your scent in his nose, and your taste on his lips. His hips slow, and you pull him tighter. You hold him close to your sweat slicked chest. You let him rest there, on your pillowy skin, bodies still joined.

That’s how you stay that night. Holding one another, leaving the mess you both made for the daylight hours. When you wake in the morning, you find that Steve’s hand is still holding yours.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #steve harrington smut #eddie munson x steve harrington #steddie x reader #steddie x reader smut #steddie x you #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader

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bunnyboyjuice · 4 months

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Nanami loves when the holidays roll around that means he’s gonna get fed good and well he knows your gonna spoil him good. A plate filled with all sorts of meats and vegetables he loved fried fish and fried chicken with Mac and cheese and greens. God he could even get enough of the cornbread and biscuits going back for seconds like he had been starving his whole life. His favorite time was dessert because he had so many to choose from the poundcake, red velvet cake, the sweet potato pie was calling his name as soon as he smelled the cinnamon in the air. He felt so spoiled it was ridiculous. He loved that you also made enough to pack a plate for the rest of your family he loved visiting your momma and gossiping with her about you over the banana pudding she made especially for him. And when he realized he got to taste test all the food you made for Christmas with your family it made him so excited. Nanami was cornbread fed and he couldn’t even complain about it he was so happy being content and full.

#jjk #kota's brain #jjk nanami #nanami kento #nanami x black reader #nanami x reader #black reader #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jjk fluff #nanami fluff

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captainkirkk · 3 months

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✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

Clone Wars/Star Wars

The Sun Swings East by kj_feybarn (+ podfic)

Over and over, Obi-Wan woke up and wished he hadn't.

Palpatine wouldn't stop until Obi-Wan had Fallen, wouldn't stop until Obi-Wan gave Palpatine a shattered galaxy in payment for his release.

He couldn't save himself, Obi-Wan had come to terms with that.

What he hadn't realized was that didn't mean there was no way to be saved.

broken surface by qigiined

"The water is not talking to you, Obi-Wan,” Feemor says without chastisement in his tone. “That’s the force you’re feeling, from the trees maybe.” The clippers turn back on. “Or a fish.” “Bones,” Obi-Wan says. The clippers turn off again. “Bones,” Obi-Wan repeats. “I want to be bones.” “You’re already bones. Where’d you get that idea?” Qui-Gon steps quietly closer to the door. “You’re scaring me, O’Ben,” Feemor says softly.

(Obi-Wan suffers from a genetic and force-based condition that makes him want to drown himself in a bog. And sometimes that bog is the shape of a sink.)

cultural ed by qigiined

PDS: so Kenobi would have been 23? 24? When the padawan came along?

WLF: so probably around 22 for conception. They need time to bake.

PDS: no one can make natborns that young.

FOX: I’m telling you all. Natborns are REALLY good at making other natborns that young. It’s their specialty.

(Cal is assigned to do some cultural education with Obi-Wan on board The Negotiator for a few days and Cody and his batch come to some understandable conclusions.)

and through the spaces of the dark by blackkat (+ podfic)

Jon's attempts to avoid a war he wants no part in are ended when Dark Woman drags him to Coruscant and straight to a posting with the Guard. He intends to keep his head down and do his work, but the mysteries around the Guard - and Fox - immediately have him in out of his depth and on uncertain ground/

Nine Worlds series (Victoria Goddard)

An Impossible Dream by SunInGlory

His Radiancy makes a proposal to his secretary. It probably isn't a real proposal...or is it?

an honorable and enviable role. by mage-pie (looselipssinksubs)

"Get up get up get up!” Something heavy landed on Varro’s stomach. He sat up just as Zerafin turned the lights on. “What?” Zerafin was grinning. The thing he’d thrown at Varro was a duffel bag. “We’re going on vacation! Get up, start packing, we’re leaving at dawn!”

That’s right, iiiiit’s… Vangavayen Vacation Time! Featuring our very favorite captive audience and peanut gallery, the highly trained and extremely professional innermost members of the Imperial Guard! Please give them your applause and moral support; they’re going to need it.

Privacy by Penguinity

Rhodin sipped his coffee. “Are us roommates cramping your style?”

“No,” Conju demurred, in a way which clearly meant yes. “I value you all deeply and am satisfied with a . . . laissez-faire . . . living situation in our retirement.”

Ludvic stirred his coffee. Rhodin peeled a banana in a desultory way. They waited.

Conju sighed. “It’s just–“ Ludvic and Rhodin leaned forward as Conju continued, “– why does he have to be underfoot all the time? Overnight?! I came down for a drink last week and nearly broke my neck tripping over a middle-aged aristocrat. It’s undignified."

Disobedience by alfgifu

You glanced down at the new paper with mild concern and felt your emotions congeal into cold terror.

It was not a standard Council paper, though it came with the usual cover slip.

It was a warrant for Cliopher’s execution.

A touch of home by alfgifu

I might have felt extremely boring coming back to the Palace through the front door in all our finery, but as Kip had pointed out, there was really no need to alarm the guards by climbing in a window when we could shock the world simply by showing up as ourselves.

#only two fandoms this time #which is very unusual for me #the hyperfixation continued #weekly fic round up #my posts #fic recs #hote recs #sw recs #nine worlds recs #i've just added a bunch of fics for different fandoms to my marked for later #so i have a feeling my next fic round up is gonna be more diverse

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peachesofteal · 1 year

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Banana Pudding

Same pairing as Cupcakes.

GIF by hbothelastofus

Joel Miller/reader One shot - 2.3k words - AO3 Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, mentions of blood, violence, gore. Joel is bad at feelings. Protective Joel, pining, kissing. Very brief mention of Joel thinking about sex. You're late.

“It’s just for the day.” You said this morning as you shifted the backpack around. Joel unzipped the top compartment, packing it tight with replacement first aid supplies. “Just the day, and then I’ll be back. We can play go fish tonight.” The kid, the one you rescued a few months back, had been crying, standing by your front door, making a fuss. When you bent over to wipe his face, the curve of your ass pressed directly into Joel’s hips, and his hand darted out to lay on your side, like you were unsteady or needed comfort. You looked back at him with a wink before you wiped the kid’s nose with your sleeve and said, “Keep an eye on the old geezer for me, okay?”

You were one hour past due. He wasn’t worried, not yet. It wasn’t unlike you to get distracted by something, veer off onto a different path, go crashing through the woods because you swore you saw a discarded sweater caught in a tree somewhere. One time, you followed a bushwhacked trail to where someone had carved out a little hovel. Didn’t find much, but you did find the electrical tape you’d be looking for. And a half-drunk flask.

“For you.” You tossed it to him, mischievous smile on your face, eyes sparkling in the sunlight. “Your favorite. Smells like gasoline.” You teased him, and he had thought about what it would feel like to hold your face between his hands.

When you went out for the day, he could always count on you being a little late coming back. He wasn’t worried, not yet. You’re alright. You’re fine.

You were two hours past due. You and Alex, the new guy, hadn’t been spotted on the outskirts of the area either, and worry was starting to burn in his stomach like bad liquor. It was hot as hell today, and he wonders if you brought enough water. John swore he vetted that guy. Swore he could hold his own. Swore he could handle it. Joel fixes his eyes on the horizon, waiting. Watching.

“C’mon sweetheart. Where are you?”

You were three hours past due. The kid is hovering near him now, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Joel hates this kid. This kid almost got you killed, almost got you infected. He’s also come to realize that the kid really likes you. Follows you around, running away from the group of orphans he’s supposed to stay with to knock on your flimsy front door all hours of the day. You sit with him at dinner, you take walks with him in the morning. He doesn’t like it. He hates how he feels when he sees you walking next to him, his little hand clutched in yours, big wide eyes trying to take in his surroundings. He hates how he feels when he watches you teach the kid how to play go fish at your kitchen table, Joel’s skin sweating under his clothes. He hates how you crouch down in front of him, smile on your face, your voice murmuring to him in low, soothing tones. The kid trusts you. He stares at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

It’s the same way Joel stares at you, and the thought pulls at him. Scratches at the surface of his skin, tugs at the things he’s buried so far down, they’ll never see the light of day.

“He has a name, you know.” You said one day. Yeah, he knew the kid’s name. Grey. What kind of a name is Grey?

“I know.” He matched you step for step, whacking through the long grass that’s grown over the interstate.

“Wouldn’t kill ya to use it.” It might.

“Sweetheart.” You turned, your face all sweet and smiling. “I don’t think you should get too attached to the kid.” The grin faded from your face like the setting sun.

“Go on home.” Joel tells the kid, and he pouts.

“But I wanna wait.” The boy whines, and Joel clenches his fist.

“I said go on.” He points, putting a little more authority behind his voice, and the boy scurries off. You’re alright. You’re fine.

You were four hours past due. He hates this. Hates this feeling. Hates the idea that you’re out there, with someone he didn’t know watching your back. He’s started packing a backpack, just in case. John tries to talk him down, but he can’t shake the sinking feeling in his gut. Could the new guy handle a Clicker? Could he handle a Bloater? He thinks about last time, only a few weeks ago, when the two of you stumbled upon one during a routine run.

You heard it first. Your body tensed like a deer in headlights, and then you immediately stepped into a crouch. He followed suit, noticing how you raised your hand behind your back, fingers waggling out in invitation. You wanted him to hold your hand, he realized. You wanted to know he was there. When he reached for you, your fingers stretched outward, feeling for the band of his watch, and his heart sputtered in his chest.

Bloaters are huge. They were a bitch to kill, their weird scaly skin more like armor, and they’re as strong as ten men. Fortunately, their echolocation was not nearly as good as Clickers, and they were slow as molasses. That didn’t always save everyone though. Last summer, you both watched Kelsey get her jaw pulled apart like a banana peel, her brains splattering on the wall like some overpriced canvas of modern art. He didn’t want to take this one on. He wanted to sneak away, with you, and hole up in the run-down house a few hundred meters up the road. The idea of you getting close enough to a Bloater to lob a Molotov at them made his skin crawl, so he squeezed your fingers twice to get you to turn around, and then he jerked his head in the direction of the shack. You looked at him like he was crazy, glancing down at the bottle already in your hand. He shook his head. A clear no.

“That Bloater.” You said later, absentmindedly while the two of you passed a cup of whiskey back and forth. “Got me thinking.”

“Yeah?”

“About Kelsey. When her head got peeled like a banana.” You used the same analogy that he did when he thought about it, a symptom of the truth. You two spent entirely way too much time together.

“Yeah. That was rough.”

“Yeah… Makes me want banana pudding real bad.” He surprised you by laughing, a deep chuckle that started in his chest, and you looked at him bewildered for a second before laughing too, the sound of your voice sticking to his ribs like sugar.

You were five hours past due. It was dark now, pitch black, and he was pulling his backpack onto his shoulders.

“Joel, it’s late. I’m sure they’re just layin’ low somewhere for the night, if you just wait-“ He doesn’t bother to listen to the rest of John’s plea. He can’t leave you out there. You’ve never told him, but he knows you hate the dark. Anytime you get assigned to do something after sunset, he watches your face flicker and change, the sweet, happy nature of your eyes tightening with a sprinkle of fear.

Once, he was the one who was late. Three hours late to a promise he had made you, a date with Egyptian rat screw. By the time he got back, the sun had well set, and you were standing on the little porch, lantern by your side. You were standing in the dark, waiting for him. The sight of it made his breath catch in his chest.

“Hey-“ He started to say when he saw you, but you cut him off immediately.

“Where were you?” your voice had been a higher pitch than normal, off key, like you were afraid. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, that was rude. It’s just John said someone got held up and when you didn’t show I started to think maybe you were the one who got held up, but that doesn’t make sense because no one in their right mind would hold you up and-“ He grabbed your flailing hand with his, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles, and watched the tension drain from your body, bit by bit. I’m here, baby, he wanted to say. I’m right here.

“I think I owe you a game.” He said instead.

He remembers when you got that pack of cards, when you went back inside a building crawling with Clickers, just to pluck them from the pocket of some rotting corpse. He was furious. The feeling of rage in his chest was so strong that he wanted to scream at you, scare you bad enough that you never did anything that stupid again.

It wasn’t until later in the day that he realized it wasn’t anger at all, but fear.

He doesn’t let anyone else know you have them, because he remembers when Rich found out, that night when you drank just a little bit too much and let it slip. He remembers watching the gears in Rich’s head turn, eyes staring daggers at your bag. He tried to snatch it from you the next day, shoving you on the ground to tear your backpack away from your body. He gave you a black eye, but you rolled over on him with a knife pressed to the vein beating under his jaw. He ran away scared after that. Joel will never forget the disappointed look in your eyes as he scampered off. “That’s what I get for trying to be nice, I guess.”

Rich was dead two nights later. Everyone assumed it was a Stalker.

You were five and half hours past due. Joel’s walking out of camp now, flashlight shining on the road ahead. He would find you. You’d be alright. You’d be fine.

Something snaps in the dark of the trees to the right and he whirls, shining the flashlight in that direction, working it in a pattern across the ground. He hears a cough, and then-

“Joel?” It’s your voice, your soft, sweet voice saying his name, and when you come closer into the light splattered in blood, he nearly falls to his god damn knees.

“What happened?” he barks, his tone aggressive and edged in fear. “Where are you hurt? What happened?” He runs his hands over your body, your shoulders, your arms, your waist. He could run you back to camp faster if he carried you, he had a good amount of first aid in this pack, he could certainly staunch the bleeding if it wasn’t an artery, fuck if it was an artery, he didn’t think he had anything, probably could make a tourniquet, what if it’s a bite, what would-

“It’s not… It’s not my blood.” His mind stops racing and he blinks.

“It’s not your blood.” His hands come up to hold your face, one palm on either cheek. You’re shaking. He’s shaking.

“Not my blood.” You repeat again, fingers coming to wrap around his wrist, right below his watch. You stroke the spot where his pulse races with your thumb. “I’m alright. I’m fine Joel, I’m just a little-“ He doesn’t let you finish. Instead, he presses his mouth to yours, a fever rising in his own blood when you open for him, soft whimpers slipping from your lips. You taste as good as he’s imagined, and he wants to devour you. His blood is racing beneath his skin, and he wants to bury himself so far inside you that you can’t go anywhere without him again, wants to ruin you and lock you up, so no one can even so much as touch a single hair on your head. He wants to rewind time and kill the fucker who put that scar on your face. He traces a finger down your neck, across your collarbones, and your skin is so soft, so warm, he can’t stop touching it, his fingers moving over every inch of bare flesh available to him until you let out a little moan and it jolts him. He pulls back abruptly. He shouldn’t. He wants to. You blink at him in surprise, and then a smile stretches across your face. “tired.” You finish your sentence, and then without hesitating, you lean your body into his, arms coming around his waist in a hug. He lowers his head until his nose is in your hair, and he’s so relieved, so fucking relieved his brain is having a hard time working. His hands rub your back slowly, slipping behind the backpack, stroking up and down until a thought occurs to him.

“Whose blood is this?”

“Oh uh. It’s Alex’s. We ran into some trouble. He didn’t make it out.” You chew on your lip for a second before you speak again. “I had to get back, you know. Wanted to get home. I couldn’t… I couldn’t help him.” Home. You wanted to get home.

“That’s okay, baby. It’s okay.” He cradles your face again, rubbing a thumb across your cheek. You give him a sad smile, and then he brings you into his chest, where his heart is pounding against his ribs, a hand wrapped around the back of your head.

Your feet drag along as you walk next to him, fingers curled around the inside of his elbow, head leaning against his shoulder. You’re exhausted, covered in blood and who knows what else, but all he can think about is sliding his arm behind your knees and lifting you off the ground.

“You know what-” You start to say before your sentence is cut off by a yawn, and you press your face into his bicep. “You know what I could really go for?” you mumble into him.

“What’s that?”

“I could really go for some banana pudding.”

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction #female reader #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x oc #peaches writes

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flightlessangelwings · 11 months

Text

Not Leaving You Again

Santiago Garcia x fem!reader x Frankie Morales Word count- 4.8k Dialogue prompt- “ are you okay? “ Action prompt- [ YANK ]: seeing the receiver is in immediate danger, the sender hastily grabs them and pulls them against them, out of harm’s way Warnings-s.mut (18+ only!), bi mmf threesome, lots of pining, childhood friends to lovers, feelings, protective Santi and Frankie, assault attempt but it’s interrupted, reader is a bartender and works in a bikini bar but no physical descriptions given, reader has the nickname “Chiquita” given to her by Santi, no use of y/n Notes- Written for my Year of Protectiveness (@yearofcreation2023), and it was supposed to be posted in April so let's just ignore the fact that this one is late lol! This actually went through many changes before I settled on this version and I'm happy to have done something a little different! Also, if you’re wondering how I came up with the nickname Chiquita: I was eating a banana while brainstorming this and I thought that was a cute nickname lol! Enjoy! @flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so feel free to also follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post!

“Really Pope?” Frankie sounded exasperated, “A bikini bar?”

Santiago grinned mischievously, “Yes Fish, a fucking bikini bar,” he placed a hand on his best friend’s shoulder, “You’ve been moping about your breakup for too long, buddy.”

Frankie rolled his eyes, “I bet they all know you by name here, huh.”

“Actually,” Santiago let out a deep breath, “I’ve never been here before,” he couldn’t help but laugh at Frankie’s shocked face, “I was looking up places to take you to cheer you up and this place came up.”

“It’s a wonder you never heard about it before,” he let out a heavy sigh of his own, “But I appreciate this.”

“Hey… What are friends for, huh!” he playfully punched Frankie’s arm, “Now let’s get a smile on that face of yours.”

“Whatever you say, Pope.” Frankie sounded slightly annoyed, but truly he was grateful for his friend. It had been several months since his fiance left him, and he knew he had been down in the dumps about it, bringing the guys down with him. And while Santigao Garcia had a tendency of being an asshole at times, he was still his best friend and he knew he had his best interest in mind. So, Frankie indulged him.

But, when the two men entered the bar, both their breaths were taken away.

The bar was reasonably packed for the late afternoon, and every single woman who worked there was stunningly beautiful. Women in all ages, skin tones, sizes and backgrounds worked behind the bar making drinks and running to the tables to serve them. Santiago and Frankie stood in stunned silence for a moment before Santi nudged his friend.

“What did I tell you, Fish,” he sounded very pleased with himself, “Good drinks, beautiful bartenders… It’s just what you need.”

“They’re not pieces of meat, Pope,” Frankie huffed, “They’re just here to work.”

“Yes I know,” Santiago cleared his throat, “But it’s a bikini bar for a reason,” he nodded a quick hello to a waitress who sauntered by and gave him a wink, “Let’s just enjoy it.”

With another roll of his eyes, Frankie followed his friend to the bar where he ordered them both drinks. He watched as Santiago suavely flirted with the bartender, and was surprised that he actually flirted back. But then again, Santiago always had that effortless charm that made anyone swoon. Even Frankie himself found himself captivated by his friend’s hypnotic gaze at times.

“Cheers, Fish,” Santiago’s voice jolted Frankie from his thoughts, “To single life. May you find the perfect person for you.”

“Thanks,” Frankie mumbled as he cheered and took a sip. He had to admit, Santiago had a kindness and caring side to him that he kept buried under the facade. And although this wouldn’t have been his first choice of venue, he was grateful that Santiago dragged him out of his place. But, just as he was about to voice his thoughts, another voice cut in between the two of them.

“Santi?”

Stunned, the two men turned over their shoulder and were met by another captivating employee, dressed in only a bikini top and jean shorts. Santiago nearly spit out his drink as he breathed your name in a surprised tone.

“Santiago Garcia! I would know that voice anywhere!” you put down your tray to open your arms for a hug.

He exclaimed your name as he hopped off the barstool and embraced you tightly, “Dios mio it’s been… years!” he sighed as he leaned back to take in the sight of you, “You look even more beautiful than the last time I saw you.”

Frankie watched with a soft smile as two old friends reunited.

“It’s been too long,” you agreed as you looked him up and down, “I’ve missed you, Santi,” suddenly, you sounded sad.

Santiago cleared his throat and redirected your thoughts, “This is my good friend Francisco,” he gestured to Frankie, “Fish, this is Chiquita.”

“Pleasure. Call me Frankie,” he spoke softly as he took your hand in his. Frankie couldn’t help but notice how soft your hand was and how your face lit up when you smiled.

“Nice to meet you, Frankie,” you gave him your name once more before you turned back to Santiago, “Chiquita, huh?” you asked with a laugh, “No one’s called me that in… I can’t remember how long. How have you been?”

Frankie couldn’t help but notice the flash of melancholy in your eyes when you turned back to Santiago. He listened as the two of you caught up for a minute before someone from across the way called your name.

“I’ll be right there,” you replied over your shoulder before you turned back to them, “It was nice to see you, Santi,” you breathed, “And very nice to meet you, Frankie,” you paused for a beat, “Come back again sometime. Tuesdays are usually slower… We can catch up more.”

Santiago and Frankie exchanged a glance and a smirk. “I guess this will be our Tuesday spot then,” Santiago exclaimed, “See you then, Chiquita.”

Your smile lit up your face once more, “I’ll see you then!” you said before you disappeared into the crowd and went back to work.

Tuesday came before they knew it, and just like you promised, the bar was much quieter. The waitresses all greeted Santiago and Frankie when they walked in and they almost clamored to get the chance to wait on them. Among them was even the one that Santi flirted with the last time they were in, but this time, he only had eyes for one person.

“Hey guys!” you waved from behind the bar, “Take a seat. I’ll make you my specialty. On the house!”

“Thank you, “Frankie murmured as he watched you work. When you set the drinks down, he asked the first of many burning questions on his mind, “So… What’s the story behind ‘Chiquita’ anyway?”

Santiago nearly spit out his drink in an attempt to contain his laughter, and you couldn’t help but snort as well.

“When we were kids,” he started before you could recover from your laughing spell to speak, “She dressed up as the Chiquita banana girl three years in a row. I started calling her that as a joke but it just kinda stuck.”

“Oh I would have loved to see that,” Frankie joined in your laughter.

“Actually,” you cleared your throat, “Funny story… I actually did a bikini version of that for Halloween last year!”

“You’re joking!”

“Nope,” you winked, “Too bad you missed it.”

“Damn,” Santiago cursed under his breath.

Frankie’s disappointment mirrored his friends, but he hid it better. Instead, he redirected the conversation as you wiped down the bar, “So you two have known each other for a while then?”

“Yep,” you replied, “We were friends as kids… grew up together… I hadn’t heard from you in years though…” your tone turned sad again, and suddenly Frankie regretted asking. He hated seeing you like that, even if he barely knew you.

“Hey,” Frankie tried to redirect your thoughts, “We’re all here now, so why don’t we enjoy the drinks and the company?” He lifted his drink to cheers.

“Yeah!” Santiago lifted his drink as well, “To good friends and good drinks!”

“I’ll cheers to that,” you poured yourself a water and joined them, “To good friends, old and new!”

The three of you clinked your glasses together before downing them all. With that a new friendship was born and you couldn’t help the feelings that bubbled to the surface… for both men.

Before they knew it, going to the bikini bar became a regular thing for Frankie and Santi. They were in there multiple nights a week, to the point where everyone there knew them by name. Frankie even joked that he knew that would happen eventually, which Santiago shrugged off. But, neither man could deny the growing feelings for you they both harbored, and both of them knew about the other. It went unspoken, however, and neither of them made a move on you. Instead, they just enjoyed your company and watched over you on busy nights to make sure no drunk men tried to put his hands on you.

But, there was one burning question on Frankie’s mind. And after several weeks, he couldn’t keep it to himself any longer: “What happened between you and Chiquita?”

The momentarily joy at Frankie using that nickname for you as well didn’t last, and Santiago’s face dropped, “We drifted apart,” he answered dryly as he took a sip of his drink, “It happens when people grow up.”

Frankie’s face soured, “That’s not it,” he sounded annoyed, “I see the way she looks at you sometimes. Don’t tell me you hurt her…”

“No!” Santiago snapped, “No,” he repeated in a softer tone, “It’s just…” he sighed, “Shit happens, you know? Especially with guys like us.”

Frankie’s gaze stayed pointed at Santiago, but he chose not to push it any further. Instead, he looked around the bar and caught your eye. His heart fluttered in his chest when you looked up from what you were doing and gave him a big smile. Fuck, he was down bad for you, and he couldn’t do anything about it because he didn’t want to hurt his best friend or come between you two. So, Frankie chose to keep his heart guarded and locked away. If this was the most he was going to be with you, a friend and someone to watch over, Frankie made his peace with it.

But, Santiago broke the silence between them with an unexpected confession, “We hooked up once after I got back from my first deployment,” he stated plainly, as if he fought to keep his own emotions in check, “After that, I decided it was best that she never saw me again. I’m not the kind of man that’s good for her. She deserves better than me and my shit. So,” he sighed, “I left and never called her again.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Pope,” Frankie couldn’t hide the disappointment in his voice, “You really are a fucking asshole sometimes, you know that.”

“Yes, I fucking know!” Santiago snapped.

“So what stopped you?” Frankie sighed, “Normally you aren’t the ‘noble’ type.”

Santiago knew it wasn’t an insult. It was the truth. He rubbed his face in his hands, “Yeah,” he breathed, “I don’t know man. She’s just… Different.”

“Yeah…” Frankie’s voice sounded distant as he looked over at you again, “She’s something else…”

“You like her, don’t you?” Santiago asked, noticing the way Frankie looked at you.

“I… Uhh…” he stammered.

“It’s ok, man,” Santiago took a sip of his beer, “You’re a better man than I am. You’d take better care of her than I did.”

Frankie let out a heavy breath, “Thanks man,” he mumbled, “But I wouldn’t do that to you either. I see the way she looks at you.”

Neither man spoke for several long and tense moments. They sat in stillness as the bar hustled around them. For the first time in a long time, neither of them knew what to say to the other.

“Listen,” Santiago broke the silence, “Why don’t we let her decide? No hard feelings,” he sounded defeated already, which was very unlike him.

Frankie didn’t like it, but he decided to just let the topic go for now and agree, “Alright.”

“Hey,” your voice broke through their tension, “You boys alright?”

“Fine, Chiquita,” Santiago reached out for you, “Just talking.”

“It looked serious,” you glanced between them, “You sure everything’s ok?”

Frankie gave you a soft smile, “Everything’s fine.”

Neither Frankie nor Santiago spoke about that conversation again after that night. They carried on like it didn’t even happen, and surprisingly, they both were able to just spend time with you just like they did before. Their routine felt comfortable enough that it didn’t affect them, and neither man held a grudge about it. Besides, they both agreed that watching over you was more important than their childish squabble. Especially on nights like tonight.

It was crowded for a Monday night, and you barely had time to chat with your boys. If you were honest, you were almost disappointed, since you looked forward to the nights that Frankie and Santiago came in. True, it was hard for you at first to see Santi again after he ghosted you all those years ago, but when you realized that he’d grown since then and you liked the man he grew into, you forgave him. And his friend Frankie was beyond handsome and kind too.

There were nights you fantasized about Santiago. And then there were nights you fantasized about Frankie. But your favorite daydreams were when you had both men at the same time. You found yourself equally attracted to both of them, and you felt safe when you knew they were there, watching over you and chased drunk men away who threatened to get too touchy with you.

And you were especially grateful they were at the bar tonight.

Rowdy crowds of men spilled into the bar unexpectedly, and some of them made you and your coworkers nervous. You made your way over to the hightop table where Frankie and Santiago sat as often as you could.

“Busy night, Chiquita?” Santiago asked.

“It’s weird for a Monday,” you commented as you glanced between the two of them, “You guys doing alright?”

“We’re fine, sweetheart,” Frankie’s voice was velvety soft and it brought comfort to you.

Just as you were about to say something, one of the other waitresses yelped as he dropped a tray of drinks right in front of another table. “Shit,” you hissed before you turned to the guys, “Be right back. I’l going to go help her.”

They both nodded as they watched you hurry over to the new girl. She had just started two weeks ago, and she seemed very nervous. But, you were there to help her and you quickly rushed to her side and calmed her down, “Hey,” you breathed, “It’s ok. It’s just a spill. It happens.”

“Thank you,” she breathed your name as he looked at you with big pleading eyes.

From the far table, Frankie and Santiago watched as you bent over to help the other girl. And while they were captivated at the sight of you bent over while hardly wearing anything, a grumble from nearby caught their attention. One of the drunk men at the table next to where you were stumbled over with a sinister grin on his face and his hands reaching out.

Without a word, Santiago and Frankie looked at each other and knew exactly what the other was thinking.

In a flash, they rushed over to you, intercepting the drunk man before he could put his hands on you. The two men worked together in tandem; Frankie grabbed you and yanked you against him, wrapping his arms around you while Santiago pushed the drunk man away from you and the other waitress.

“Back off, asshole!” Santiago shouted at him.

You gasped as suddenly you found yourself in Frankie’s arms and Santiago’s body stood in front of you, blocking you from the threat you didn’t even know was there.

“Frankie?”

“It’s ok, baby,” he whispered to you, “We’ve got you.”

You let out a deep breath as you and Frankie watched Santiago push the drunk man once more, “Get the fuck out!”

“Hey,” the drunk man slurred, “I didn’t mean no harm… I just,” he hiccuped, “Wanted a little squeeze.” His glazed over eyes landed on you.

A shiver ran up your spine at the way he looked at you.

“Not on my watch,” Santiago growled before he punched the guy right in the face, knocking him down to the ground.

“Don’t look,” Frankie turned you around so that his body blocked your view and you were turned away from Santiago and the drunk man.

All you could hear was a scuffle and shouting as others joined in and pushed the drunk man out of the bar. All the while, Frankie whispered soft nothing to you to keep you calm. And you heard him repeat over and over again, “You’re ok, baby. We ain’t gonna let anything happen to you.”

The commotion calmed down as quickly as it started and suddenly Santiago was in front of you, “Chiquita!” he huffed as you looked up at him from Frankie’s grasp, “Are you ok?”

You looked between Santiago and Frankie, stunned at the way he rushed to your aid so fast, “I’m fine,” you breathed, “Thank you… Thank you both.”

Time was a blur for you after that, and all you were aware of was that neither Sntiago nor Frankie left your side for a moment. And one of them had his hand on you at all times, as if they were both afraid that something else would happen if they strayed too far. Vaguely, you heard them speaking with your coworkers to make sure the other girls were alright before they relayed what happened to your boss.

“Baby?” Frankie’s voice broke you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah?” you blinked your eyes as if you had to refocus on the present moment.

“We’re gonna take you home, alright?”

“B-but…” you stammered, unsure of if that was what you really wanted.

“Don’t worry, Chiquita,” Santi appeared on the other side of you, the two of them forming a protective barrier around you, “I talked to your boss, everything’s cool. Let us take care of you.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as your hands trembled for an entirely different reason, “Ok…”

The ride home was quiet save for your directions. Frankie took his truck while Santi followed behind in your car so you wouldn’t have to worry about it later. A hundred thoughts ran through your mind as you noticed that Frankie glanced over at you as much as he could.

“Watch the road, Fish,” you teased to break the tension inside the car.

He let out a short laugh, “Yes ma’am.”

Thankfully, the drive wasn’t too much longer and Frankie and Santi pulled into your place and escorted you inside. It felt a little strange, as if they were your bodyguards, but at the same time you had never felt safer.

“Well,” you breathed as you gestured around, “This is it. This is my place.”

“It’s nice,” Frankie mumbled, trying to keep his expression level.

You stood in front of Frankie and Santiago as you fiddled your fingers. “Thank you,” you broke the silence, “By the way… Thanks for lookin’ after me back at the bar.”

Frankie’s eyes softened, “You don’t have to thank us for that, baby.”

The way Frankie called you that pet name made your heart flutter in your chest. You always liked it when he called you that, and the way he said it always made your skin tingle. You glanced between him and Santi as the fantasies you had popped into your head. Santiago hadn’t said much since you got into your place, and all he did was nod at you. Something was up with him, you just weren’t sure what, but you still felt the tension radiate off of him.

As he watched your face, Santiago couldn’t stand the tension anymore and he broke the silence with a loud voice, “Ok, I’m just going to say it,” his emotions fueled his sudden outburst, “Listen,” he used your real name for once, “I know this isn’t fair of me to ask, but it’s driving me fucking crazy. And,” he let out a heavy sigh, “I just have to know… Which one of us would you choose?”

You blinked your eyes wide as your mouth dropped open, “W-what?”

“Santiago…” Frankie hissed.

“Chiquita, you gotta know we both are fucking crazy about you,” Santiago continued, ignoring his friend, “And I know I hurt you, baby. But I just gotta know so we can move on.”

You were silent as you looked between the two men. Your heart felt like it would burst from your chest at any minute as they both looked back at you like lost puppies. Slowly, you reached out and took Frankie’s hand in yours without a word.

Santiago spat, “Thought so,” he mumbled before he stepped past you to leave.

“Wait,” you grabbed his hand with your free one and held onto both of them tightly, “I…”

“What is it?” Frankie asked in a whisper as Santi looked back at the two of you with a surprised expression on his face.

“Do I have to pick between you two?” your voice shook, “Can…” you swallowed hard, “Can’t I have you both?”

Frankie and Stai’s eyes went wide as their gazes met. Frankie himself couldn’t deny the latent attraction he had for his friend. And Santiago’s eyes went up and down Frankie’s figure as a slight smirk lit up his face.

“I wouldn’t say no to that,” Santi quipped as he stepped closer towards the two of you.

“Neither would I,” Frankie grinned back as he wrapped his arms around both you and Santi.

Your face lit up as you looked between the two men, “Are we really doing this?” you asked in an excited whisper.

Santiago cupped your chin and kissed you deeply, “It looks like we fuckin’ are,” he murured before Frankie grabbed your chin and turned you toward him to give you an equally passionate kiss.

Left breathless, you just nodded towards your bedroom and the two men quickly led you down the hallway, stripping you and each other on the way. Even after the tense moments at the bar, everything melted away as the three of you shed your layers of clothing, and giggles erupted among the three of you as you made your way to your bed.

“Fuck…” Frankie breathed as he took in the sight of you and Santiago before him.

“Just as beautiful as I remember, Chiquita,” Santiago murmured as he glanced over at Frankie, “And shit man, you’re an impressive sight too,” he winked.

You couldn’t help the laugh you let out before Frankie said your name.

“How do you want us, baby?’

“Yeah, your call.”

It took no time to decide how you wanted them. Leaning over to Frankie, you gave him a light kiss, “I want you to fuck me,” you breathed before you leaned over to Santi and mirrored the kiss, “And I want you in my mouth.”

“Have you thought about this before?” Santi smirked.

“That’s my little secret,” you winked.

Both boys let out a short laugh before they got serious again. They caressed your body, memorizing every dip and curve of you as they positioned you between them. Your back stayed to Frankie as his hands reached your ass and gave it a firm squeeze. Both of them groaned when you let out a beautiful moan, and suddenly the desperation took over for all of you.

You held onto Santiago’s shoulders as you positioned yourself, parting your legs for Frankie. Immediately, he cupped your pussy and traced a finger along your clit. Your body trembled as you moaned even louder while you grabbed onto Santi’s cock and slowly pumped it.

“Shit…” Santi hissed as you wrapped your fingers around him and stroked him slowly as if you remembered every little move that drove him wild.

While you jerked off Santi, Frankie pushed two fingers inside you while he stroked himself. A string of curses from all of you echoed in the room as Frankie’s thick fingers pumped in and out of you in the same rhythm that you pumped Santi.

“Frankie,” you murmured, “I’m ready… Please fuck me.”

“Whatever you want, baby,” Frankie caressed your ass as he slowly pulled his fingers out of you and lined up his cock at your entrance.

You and Santi shared a look before you felt the tip of Frankie’s cock push past your entrance. Your mouth dropped open and you let out the most tantalizing moan either man had ever heard.

“Fuck,” Santi cursed as he watched you lower yourself onto your hands and knees.

As Frankie slowly pushed into you, you took Santi’s cock in your mouth, flicking the tip with your tongue a few times before you wrapped your lips around it and took him completely inside.

“Ay Dios…” Santi groaned as he felt your warmness around him.

“Fuck,” Frankie moaned as he buried himself completely inside you, “Fuck baby you feel so good.”

All you could do was moan around Santi’s cock as you felt yourself stuffed at both ends. Your mind swam in pleasure as Frankie reeled back and thrust forward again, and already you saw stars. Santi kept his hands on your shoulders to support you as Frankie held you hips and pounded into you faster. Unable to hold himself back, he rocked into you over and over again, already addicted to the feeling of your wet pussy around him.

Santiago looked up from where you gagged on his cock to meet Frankie’s eyes, and he felt a fresh wave of need pulse through him when he saw the look on his face. A shiver ran up his spine as Santi watched Frankie fuck you. Between the way his cock disappeared inside you over and over again paired with the carnal look on his face, Santi felt his climax build quickly.

“Fuck,” Santi growled as he grabbed your head and yanked you off his cock.

You let out a loud cry as drool dripped down your lips, “Santi? What?”

“I want to hear you, Chiquita,” Santi growled before he kissed you deeply, “Let us hear how beautiful you sound while Frankie fucks that pretty pussy of yours.”

“Oh fuck!” you screamed as the new angle drove Frankie’s cock deeper inside you, hitting your sweet spot with precision.

Santi’s arms wrapped around you and held you tightly, and you felt Frankie’s grip around both of you as well. Your wind swam in pleasure as Frankie pounded into you faster and all you could do was rest your head on Santi’s shoulder as he held you.

As you felt your own climax build, you grabbed Santi’s cock and pumped it in time with Frankie’s thrusts. You heard him hiss your name as both men growled and groaned on either side of you.

“Fuck… Frankie… I’m gonna cum…”

All Frankie could do was moan your name, his own climax right behind yours. He tightened his grip on your hips as he pounded into you with fervor until you let out a louder scream as you fell apart. Your body trembled in their arms as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you as you came on Frankie’s cock.

Your orgasm triggered Frankie’s and he looked into Santi’s eyes for a moment before he too let out a loud groan and came deep inside you.

Santi felt awe-stuck as he watched both of you hit your peeks. You both looked so beautiful, so sexy, that he almost forgot about his own pleasure for a moment. But, when Frankie’s hand covered your on his cock, Santi let out a gasp as the two of you pumped him together until he too came hard, spilling himself on your body.

Exhausted and spent, the three of you all collapsed down onto your bed, Frankie slipping out of you as you did so. For several moments, you, Frankie and Santi all just laid together in a tangle of limbs as you all caught your breaths. Your arms and legs laid out over your boys, and even as your heart pounded in your chest, you could also feel the same in both of them.

“That…” you broke the comfortable silence with a heavy breath, “What fucking amazing.”

Santi laughed, “Fuck yeah it was.”

“Perfect,” Frankie sighed as he shifted to make you all more comfortable. He gathered you in his arms and pulled you to lay on his chest before he reached out and grabbed Santi’s arm.

Santiago looked at him, confused as to what to do for a moment, before he settled down and let you rest in between them. His eyes trailed across your bodies as he couldn’t help but wonder how different things would have been had he not left the last time he slept with you. Would the two of you become a couple? Would you eventually have invited Frankie into your bed? Your relationship?

But more importantly, would Santi repeat his actions again?

“Hey Santi?” your voice broke him out of his thoughts as you looked over your shoulder, “You’re not gonna leave again? Are you?”

Santi’s eyes went wide as he glanced between you and Frankie, who gave him a stern look. After a beat, he softened, “No, baby,” he caressed your face and kissed you before he looked at Frankie, “I’m not leaving either of you,” his voice was soft as he leaned over and placed a soft kiss on Frankie’s lips as well.

Frankie smiled into the kiss before he leaned down and gave you one as well, “I ain’t leaving either, baby.”

Your skin tingled and warmed as you nuzzled yourself in between the two pairs of strong arms, “Good,” you murmured as you rest your head down, “Good.”

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