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simpjaes · 2 months

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take the back-seat part two. (p.js & s.jy)

Jake isn’t sure what’s worse, the thirteen hour drive to the beach where he watched you get railed by his best friend in the backseat, or the five days he’s gonna be spending there knowing he is expected to watch—or join, whichever.

– read part one here!

minors do not interact, otherwise― pls reblog my works

WC ― 14.3k

PARING ― jay x afab reader x jake

TAGS ― vacation setting, threesome, voyeurism, exhibitionism, jealousy (both jay & jake), implications of a budding poly relationship, there’s a lot of dialogue to depict character development regarding the whole inviting jake thing.

!!WARNINGS!! ― jay is a little touchy with jake, if you don’t like it, sounds like a you problem.

A/N― reminder that this fic is a revamp from one i wrote over on my other blog! here is part two :D enjoy!

smut tags under cut::

smut tags― borderline infidelity (jay is into but doesn’t wanna admit it), finger fucking, neglected cock syndrome, hair pulling, jay teaches jake how to fuck his girl, jay basically moves jake like a puppet, cum stuffing, humiliation/degradation, double vaginal penetration, unprotected sex

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

What Jake feels for the remainder of that drive was unexplainable. Looking at you through the mirror with Jay next to you…it felt,for lack of a better word, different. Sure, he’s walked in on the two of you before, and watched for a little too long but, this is different. He personally saw Jay stuff you full and not only that but he saw your face as it happened. You spoke for him, to him , and he didn’t even get his ass kicked by Jay after the fact.

The feelings in his head swirl around like a forming tornado threatening to touch down and cause him to lose all sanity. Five days with you two locked in this beach house with nothing but freedom at your feet. Worse, even when the three of you go home, he’s just locked in a different space with the two of you until he gets back on his feet. Jake isn’t even sure if he wants to leave now. On one hand, he wants to start running just to get away from the overwhelming embarrassment, on the other, he thinks he might like it. He thinks the two of you might like him being around to see too.

“Is this going to be a normal thing?” Jake remembers asking Jay inside of the bathroom at the gas station. What was Jay’s response? “ Maybe, if you keep wanting to catch us.”

What to do, what to do, with a lust so hungry Jake feels like it’s eating him from the inside out? Catch you on purpose? Stalk your private moments with his best friend just to get another taste of that bliss just out of reach? Not even a taste actually.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jay drags his feet as he carries your bags along with his own. He’s acting normal despite the constant groaning about how his legs hurt after certain endeavors on top of the thirteen-hour car ride. You stay close to him, attempting to snatch a few bags so that he would at least stop crying about the very deed he wanted to do during the ride.

Jake stays behind, quietly carrying in his things and avoiding the cracks on the sidewalk so as to not scratch his new suitcase set (and so he doesn’t break his mother’s back). One headphone in, he barely hears the two of you as he opts to try and escape the madness outside of the audio in his ear. That is, until he gets inside the beach house.

“Okay so, hear me out–” Jay smiles at Jake, stepping in front of him as he tries to pass. “Listen, Jake. Just,” Jay puts his hands out in front of him, stepping both left and right to continuously block Jake’s path.

“There’s only one bedroom.” You announce, breaking Jay’s plan of trying to convince Jake that it would be a sick idea for him to watch more .

Jay did know. Of course he fucking knew, he’s the one who booked the place. You didn’t know, but he also knew you’d play along anyway. Given, Jay hadn’t completely planned the whole car thing so it’s kind of awkward now. Despite always wanting to be caught, watched, and envied, Jay really didn’t think past the idea of causing Jake inner turmoil with this rental.

“S’cool. I’ll take the couch.” Jake waves off, dropping his bags and looking around the space.

Your eyes drop before Jay’s do.

“Wait, no,” Jay groans out, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look, you can still sleep in there with us. There’s two beds.”

Two beds. So it was intentional to put Jake in a position he couldn’t resist, huh?

“The idea was to invite you to watch. Surely you’ve caught on to everything by now, right?” Jay looks at Jake with an apologetic stare. “It’s kind of awkward now inviting you, but I thought you’d be happy to take us up on the offer, especially after our little talk…”

Jake looks to the floor with tinted red flushing over his cheeks.

“You really couldn’t just wait to get here first before sitting him down and discussing?” You ask, scolding your boyfriend despite the fact that you played at least fifty percent into his on-the-fly plan on the ride over here.

“You looked hot and he was tired.” Jay states the obvious with a careless shrug.

Jake is just standing there trying his best not to let his mouth fall open. Jay really wants to propose that he should just watch? Nothing else? Just fucking watch?

Ka-ching. It’s little to grasp at, but Jake’s gonna take it. After seeing everything and hearing you, why wouldn’t he? His best friend is practically giving him the ability to watch you be pleasured.

“Okay,” Jake stops both of you from bickering. “Let’s discuss it now then.” He adds, averting his eyes from both you and your boyfriend to avoid showing how much interest he actually has in this little vacation plan.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

After a long and drawn out discussion, rules were set into place. Rule number one, Jake cannot touch you under any circumstance. You were quick to side eye your boyfriend’s best friend during that moment, noting the disappointed look that washed across his face. Rule number two, Jake can request things he wants to see, but if either you or Jay are uncomfortable with it, the request can be ignored. Rule number three, you can talk to Jake while it happens and he can talk back, but Jay will more than likely use every opportunity he finds to humiliate him for it.

Jake doesn’t falter at any of the rules except for the first one, mostly because it’s going to be hard to not want to touch you. He assumes that’s part of the fun for Jay though. He feels embarrassed accepting the terms, awkward as he places his bags in the shared room the three of you will be sleeping in, and restless at the way reality hits him. You, his best friend’s girlfriend, want him to see.

You want him to get off to you.

He feels a bit shameful about it. After all, Jay has been his best friend for fucking years at this point and he’s a little unnerved that none of this is making him feel as weird as it should be. Should Jake really be excited about watching his best friend fuck his girlfriend? Probably not, but he is, and he just assumes this is another ‘ weird’ thing he likes added to his list.

“Hey–” Jay nods his head towards Jake as you walk out of the room for a shower. You did your best to clean up at the gas station too but, to be fair, the bathroom was just as dirty and cum-covered as you were, probably.

“Yeah?” Jake looks over at him, unzipping his suitcase and pulling out a change of clothes. Mostly so he can hop in the shower after you’re done.

“You sure you’re cool with this? I know I kind of did a lot of this intentionally, but really, if you’re uncomfortable I’d rather you just tell us–”

“No!” Jake argues at an embarrassingly desperate pitch. “I mean, no.” He clears his throat as he corrects himself, and then does his best to avoid eye contact by focusing solely on digging for his toiletries.

“That’s what I thought,” Jay smiles knowingly at him, internally writing a list of things he can do to torture Jake, a list specifically made to cause envy and probably resentment.

“So, like,” Jake swallows, still unsure of his footing in this situation. “When will it happen again?”

Jay actually laughs at him this time.

“Oh, you thought–” He shakes his head and goes to take off his shirt. “No, no. Jake. You’re still gonna have to catch us to watch.” He explains, throwing his shirt on the presumed “cuck chair” in the room.

“Wait, what?” Jake is confused. They want him to watch, but they’re still going to make him go through the embarrassment of catching them?

“That’s the fun part of it for me,” Jay tries to clear it up. “I like the surprise of someone seeing. I like the reactions. It’s exciting,” He continues, now stopping to really look at Jake. “Looks like you enjoy watching, so–”

Jake nods slightly, tilting his head with a furrowed brow. “For the record, I’ve never been into this kind of thing. You kind of made it hard not to see things.”

“I know.” Jay laughs. “Gotta get creative on weeknights when there's no parties going on.”

“You do it at parties? Like just right there in public ?”

Jay nods with a smug smile.

“A lot of people don’t even notice, but the ones that do–” Jay’s eyes nearly light up. “They always watch. They don’t even pretend to look away.”

Jake feels a little bit flushed at the idea of attending a party with the two of you. He couldn’t imagine being put in a situation where he, along with several others, get to watch you orgasm.

“She likes that?” Jake asks, a little shocked.

“I mean, she gets really into it but I can admit that she seems to like when you watch a lot more.” Jay glares for a second. “Which again, kind of pisses me off.”

Jake waves him off, trying to act nonchalant about it.

“I hope you know that this is more of a trial run, Jake. If she gets bored of you, she probably won’t be as into it later.”

Okay, ouch. Fair, though. Jake would never stick around if it’s not something you want. He can already sense that Jay didn’t want it this way either. Maybe Jake watching was exciting, but he does sense a bit of tenseness in the air each time Jay brings up how you lusted over him so blatantly in the car.

“And if she doesn’t get bored?” Jake counters and Jay kind of takes internal offense to it. Passive aggressively chuckling towards him.

“Oh, she will.” Jay says as a way to assure himself rather than answering Jake. “I’m the only person she doesn’t get bored of.”

Jake, for some reason, takes that as a challenge. He might be the one getting the short end of the stick here, but the only reason he’s getting a stick at all is because of you. Regardless of if Jay wanted him to watch, surely he never wanted you to like it as much as you do.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Well, competition is one way to put it. Jay resents himself forever even trying to get Jake all flustered. He did it because he wanted to be watched, but he also wanted Jake to be fucking jealous. How the hell is he supposed to be jealous when you, his own girlfriend, got entirely too wet for another man while he was buried in you?

Playing it as cool as he can, Jay is still excited, just a little less now that he knows he’s going to have to fight for your attention. Those set rules? Between you and Jay, neither of you had to actually follow those rules. Jake can do what he wants at your discretion, but it’s not like Jay is gonna just tell him that. He was shocked that you pressed to let Jake join just one time. His whole fantasy is about being watched during a private act, not inviting someone to actively play a part in it. Nevertheless, he granted you a small nod when you suggested it, sternly letting out a small “ just this once. ”

Sure, he’s the one who fucked you in the car and he’s the one who told you to talk to Jake but, it’s not like he expected the outcome that came from it. It was a moment of lust where he thought it would be hot to see you unable to speak because you’re being fucked– but no. You were speaking to Jake and riding him harder because of whatever the fuck was going on up in that front seat.

Naturally, your boyfriend has that mischievous little glint in his eye when you return from the shower and Jake opts to steal the bathroom before he can.

“You are aware that you’re getting more out of this than I am, right?” Jay laughs, pulling you from your stance and flopping you down onto the bed. “I just wanted him to be jealous, you’re ruining my fantasy.”

You smile at him with the same mischievous little glint.

“And you’re an amazing boyfriend for letting me try something new,” You praise, kissing the tip of his nose when he crawls on top of you. “I’m sorry that it’s hot knowing two guys want me this badly.”

Jay sighs, dropping his face to your neck to smell the soap against your skin. Of course, you’d be into that. His thing is people being jealous of what he gets and your thing just has to be the idea of being wanted. It fits a little too well.

“Bet you weren’t even planning to put anything on for bed tonight, were you?” He laughs with a groan, cursing how willing he is to let you have whatever you want despite not wanting to give Jake what he wants.

“Bingo,” You smile evilly, pulling away from Jay so you can see his face. “Plus, it’s hot seeing you get all possessive. That’s new, even for you.”

Jay once again sighs with a groan.

“Promise you won’t like, up and leave me for my best friend?”

Realizing there’s a bit of truth behind his concerns, you stiffen a bit.

“You know I wouldn’t do that. Just because he’s hot doesn’t mean he can pleasure me better, or treat me better.”

Finally, a genuine smile breaks across his face and it makes you feel warm.

“Do you wanna play a little tonight?” He offers, wiggling on top of you with a newfound desire over the fact that you always know how to silence even the slightest of insecurity he feels.

“After everything from the ride over? I’m tired, Jay, really.” You admit with a pout.

“I’m not tired yet. Just let me do the work, you can just rest–” He tries to convince you and it works, much like it always does.

Jay is doing this specifically for you. It’s not like he always needs to be seen when the two of you are intimate. It’s nice sometimes seeing you act real for him. Seeing your underwhelming and soft reactions to whatever he’s doing because you both know that you’re not putting on a show. He can admit to loving the way you still moan for him despite knowing nobody but him can hear it.

Even knowing Jake will be in the bed next to yours at any moment, you think Jay can get away with whatever he wants to do privately . And for the most part, he does. At least, at first he does.

Lying on your back with a leg thrown over Jay’s lower half as his fingers trace lazy circles against your bare skin, you knew his fingers were going lower and lower, but it’s relaxing even as your eyes fight to stay open.

When Jake comes back into the room, hair still dripping a bit at his failure to dry it properly, you don’t move or react outside of a sleepy glance at him.

“Hey, you ready to hit the sack?” Jay calls out, fingers moving lower on your stomach and landing just above where your panties would sit if you were wearing any under this robe.

“Yeah. Water ran cold though, might wanna wait a little bit before you shower, Sorry.” Jake admits with shame, not making eye contact with either of you as he flops himself onto his bed. He’s wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants, which is something you’ve seen him wear time and time again at home, but man, why does it look so hot now?

Jay laughs, kind of like an ‘of course there's no hot water for me’ laugh, but he doesn’t mind, if anything, he’s having fun lulling you to sleep with a gentle finger fuck session behind Jake’s back.

The room goes silent save for the television that Jay flips to some random reality show. You’re still focused on his fingers, more gentle than he normally would be. Still, it’s probably just because, for once, he doesn’t want Jake to know what’s happening.

When your boyfriend’s fingers finally make their way to your clit, it’s not shocking that you’re already wet. Your breathing is still even, and it feels good to be touched right now. You turn your head only slightly to look at Jake. He’s so endearing to look at. Never once have you seen him preparing himself for sleep. For some reason, it feels intimate seeing his bedtime rituals.

With one hand scratching against his hair, he’s on his side and practically hugging his pillow against his head as he fixes his eyes on the television. You can see how heavy his eyes are. He was already tired when he first started his shift of driving, and the back seat didn’t offer much in terms of a nap. You imagine if he knew what Jay was doing, he wouldn’t have the energy to participate anyway.

You, though, are feeling a little bit more awake since your clit is being beautifully stimulated by your boyfriend. Jake’s supposed to be watching you with this little deal, but there were no rules that you couldn’t watch him and fantasize, right?

Jay is a little shocked when you hold his hand in place and turn to face Jake. You close your eyes at first, mostly so it still looks like you’re about to sleep, but you press Jay’s fingers a bit lower, urging him to penetrate you with them.

He, like the amazing boyfriend he is, follows suit with a curious stare at the back of your head. Then, he turns on his side behind you and spoons you, adjusting his position so that he can swoop his hand under your ass and between your legs in order to do just as you ask of him.

Jay knows what you’re doing, but opts not to say anything despite really wanting to. He assumes Jake is blissfully unaware, somehow, so saying something would turn this whole situation into something more than any of you actually feel like doing tonight.

This goes smoothly for a few minutes, with his fingers gently and silently plunging in and out of you. Honestly, Jay is too good with his fingers and he’s being too quiet compared to normal, again, because of Jake. You know you shouldn’t be including him right now, but you are, even if secretly.

A breath falls from your lips when Jay rubs his fingers against a particularly sensitive spot inside of you, sending a wave of warmth down your body and dripping out against his fingers.

“Feels good?” He whispers against your ear, noting the way your breathing is a bit more audible. “Don’t forget that I’m the one touching you, baby.” He adds in an even quieter whisper.

You let out a small groan in response, very small. Just loud enough for Jake to fix his eyes on you to find you blatantly staring back at him.

You smile at him and press your ass back against Jay just a little bit, and he’s quick to move his fingers quicker inside of you.

Jake just looks at you, processing that it’s already happening again.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The summer air is salty but all too grounding for Jake as he sits on his towel and watches the way you and Jay appear to be as comfortable as ever wrestling on the shore of the sea. Even after last night, part of him wonders what actually happened but he isn’t sure if he’s allowed to ask. Not only did you look at him as you hit your climax, but Jake was made aware that he needed to be silent in watching you due to your finger coming up to your mouth in a shushing action.

His eyes darted to Jay when you did that but he appeared to be a great actor as he watched the tv with his head tucked between your shoulder and neck, fingers plunging in and out of you casually. Even when Jake gently fucked his own fist, staring directly back at you, he realized that this shared moment with you was something Jay wasn’t aware of. It blurs the lines a bit of what is okay and what isn’t, but the rule is that Jake can watch if he catches the act. He guesses you’re the one breaking rules.

Even now, as he processes this newfound sexual adventure in his head, he’s fond of the relationship Jay has with you. Incredibly jealous, of course, but also just– Jake wants what Jay has.He wouldn’t share you, he wouldn’t want people to see him pleasure you, and he certainly wouldn’t want Jay’s cock to make an appearance at any point during his relationship with you, but you’re not his.

Still, the two of you seem to enjoy this kind of thing, and the fact that Jake appears to be the chosen third to take part makes him feel warm. Despite his jealousy, he respects the relationship you have with his best friend for the most part. There’s still that selfishness inside him though, the thought of being able to be between your legs rather than just a person to look at across the room? It drives him insane. Jay gets to flaunt you, make you feel good, and make you moan but, Jake is very aware that he got all of your attention the night before, even if it wasn’t his own fingers doing it to you. He got your attention in the car too, to the point of Jay showing his own jealousy.

Again, there’s a thin line between what he’s allowed to do and infidelity. If you ask him to do anything though, he’s going to do it. He’s going to be what you want or need at any given moment simply because he’s a single man forced to live with his extremely sexually adventurous friends, and you happen to be incredibly fucking arousing to him. Jay kind of did it to himself. Never would Jake have fantasized about you like this if it weren’t for the fact that Jay desperately wants people to see his cock inside of you.

“Hey!” You shout from the shore, pulling Jake out of his thoughts.

He waves back to you and then glances at Jay who has a huge smile on his face. Jake watches as you struggle to leave the water, the weight of the waves pushing and pulling you as you look at him. He stands to his feet, kicking off some of the sand on his legs, and makes his way towards you as well, meeting you in the middle.

“I’m gonna have a snack, go waterboard my boyfriend.” You joke when you stop in front of him.

“There’s chips in my bag if you want any.” Jake waves you off, realizing how normal the communication is between the two of you. In the silence, the communication is somehow more intimate.

When Jake makes his way down to the water, straight up to his best friend, for some reason he still feels like he’s walking on eggshells with all of this. Not with you though, because you clearly know what you want. Jay, on the other hand, shows that he’s annoyed over his plan becoming more of a pleasure for everyone but him.

“You’re not hungry?” Jake asks, dipping himself lower into the water and shivering at the ocean breeze.

“Nah, we’re finally here. I’m staying in the water ‘til I’m forced to leave.”

“Ah, good plan.” Jake confirms, allowing himself to float back a bit with the waves.

“Are we okay?” Jay suddenly asks, standing to his feet and looking down at him. “You really are allowed to decline this offer. I'm even a little nervous about it now.”

Jake squints his eyes open towards Jay, the sun blinding him more than his best friend’s smile usually would.

“It’s a little weird but I like trying new things. I’m not trying to disrespect you by accepting.”

Jay sighs in relief.

“I know. If it’s gonna be anyone, I'd rather it be you.” He laughs with a sigh. “Still would rather her focus on me but I guess I kind of owe her this.”

Jake adjusts himself back to his feet, tilting his head at Jay.

“Oh yeah?”

“I mean, it’s not like she was into the whole being watched thing until I told her I wanted to try it.” Jay looks up into the sky, feeling the sun warm his face. “I liked it more than she did, but she came around, I never forced it or anything.” He breathes in the air and sinks lower into the water. “I think she did it to please me but she started getting really into it after a few times.”

“She’s definitely something–” Jake starts, glancing at your figure flopping back on the sand and sinking your hand into a bag of chips.

“Yeah, and I guess it’s my turn to let her try the things she’s curious about.” He laughs. “Even though it’s my fault and it involves my best friend. I’m trying to come to terms with the fact that neither of you would do anything behind my back. ”

Damn.

“Um, yeah.” Jake looks away for a moment. He knows he is famously awful at lying.

Jay looks at Jake knowingly.

“Like, without me in the room at least,” He smiles, winking at Jake once before throwing a splash at him. “because I know what you guys did last night.”

Jake goes silent, wiping the salt water from his eyes and looking at Jay apologetically with burning pupils.

“Relax, she told me while you were up there sulking. Said something about the danger of me finding out or something got her going, even though she knew that I caught on anyway.” Jay reassures, explaining away any explanation of Jake himself being the reason for it. “I get it.” He laughs this time.

“Should I like, have not watched?” Jake asks awkwardly, looking away from Jay and floating back a bit.

“Nah, just give her what she wants. She’s gonna tell me regardless so let’s just try to have fun with this okay? If any of us are having issues, speak up.” Jay glares for a moment. “Because you know damn well I’ll put a stop to all of it if it goes too far.”

Jake nods, a small smile creeping up on his face.

“What happens at the beach, stays at the beach.”

“God, I hope. I’m not moving you into our room at home.” Jay laughs, feeling a little better about it.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

A very sexually active trip indeed. Jake could sense the tension in the air by the time all of you return to the beach house. Even through dinner, he sensed both you and Jay staring at him in very different ways. Even though talking made Jay feel better, he’s still possessive over you and you seem to like it a lot . So, he might be playing it up a bit for your sake.

You are quite literally eye-fucking Jake, and Jay’s eyes are basically demanding him to keep his cock under lock and key. It’s weirdly erotic, and insanely confusing, but he knows Jay will speak up if shit goes too far, just like he said he would.

By the time the three of you are piled up on the couch and putting in some shitty romance movie, it gets a little more comfortable.

You’re leaned up against your boyfriend and Jake is leaned up against the arm of the couch at the other end. He doesn’t feel eyes on him anymore and it’s a relief.

By the time it’s mid movie, he notes the soft snores coming from Jay. You, on the other hand, are feeling mischievous. Jay said to you specifically, away from Jake, no limits . Do what you want to him, ignore the rules, explore, have fun– but be ready to stop at the slightest mention of discomfort from either of them. You’re being given so much fucking power over both of these men. They both want you , and god does it feel fucking amazing to be wanted.

When you shift towards Jake, gently so that Jay isn’t stirred from his slumber, Jake finds himself leaning towards you without question. Even when you slide yourself under his blanket and grab his hand, he doesn’t falter.

His attention to the plot on the screen in front of him surely falters though. You’re doing the thing again. You’re excluding your boyfriend and Jake can’t bring himself to give a single fuck right now because you’re quite literally slipping his hand into your panties without so much as a “please?”

Immediately Jake’s fingers explore against his better judgment. He’s seen your pussy stretched out on his best friend, he’s watched you orgasm, he’s heard you moan, but never has he gotten to touch you.

“Mhm,” You encourage gently when Jake slides his fingers down your slit, collecting the slippery arousal and sliding his fingers back up to your clit.

You found yourself wondering how Jake would do it, especially the past day or so. Jay knew how to please you, but you can’t help but think that the act of someone learning how to please you is just as hot. Jake appears to know exactly how to use his fingers against a woman, the thought of him alone with someone other than you only heightens your pleasure at this moment.

Jake does this for a while, silently and gently rubbing your clit as he forces his eyes to stay on the screen. You just watch him though, and the way he parts his lips in a silent moan when you press against his fingers with the smallest show of want .

The secretiveness of it really gets you going. Seeing Jake turn to mush in your hands, doing anything you could ask him to do, right there while your boyfriend is sleeping next to you? God, what a fucking simp. You love it. You love the fact that his fingers are slightly softer compared to Jay’s, and the way he avoids sticking them in you even if you insist by lifting your hips slightly.

You lean towards Jake more this time, moving one leg over his lap and opening yourself up for more.

“You should fuck me.” You whisper into his ear with a voice far too sweet for the words. “He won’t mind.” You add at his silence, feeling his fingers halt as he processes the words.

“I can’t do that–” Jake whispers back, sliding his fingers down again and noting how much wetter you’ve gotten.

“Want me to ask him?” You joke, grabbing his hand and holding his fingers right against your entrance.

Jake shakes his head, feeling nervous as hell as his fingers rest in the one spot he definitely would love to fuck.

“You’re no fun.” You sigh in disappointment, releasing his hand.

That makes Jake panic a little bit, the words of Jay mentioning that you will get bored with him eventually. It drives him to just—

“Brave boy,” You coo out at the feeling of Jake slipping his fingers inside of you through a panicked motion, sliding them in until you can feel his knuckles against your folds. You knew he would give you what you want.“Your fingers are long. Do you know how to use them, Jakey?”

Jake is fucking floored by the idea that his fingers are inside of you, you’re talking to him like this, and Jay is missing out on all of it.

Except he’s not. To Jake’s knowledge, Jay is in dream land. You, on the other hand? You’re very aware that Jay is terrible at pretending to sleep. Not only is he putting on this show for you, but he’s actually helping you.

Kind of a shock, because you really did think he was asleep at one point. He blew his cover with a small smirk towards you, peeking an eye open at your shock of him resting a hand on your other leg and spreading it more in your attempt to get Jake to finger-fuck you. Jay wasn’t going to help out, but the moment he heard Jake reject you, he figured that his best friend can definitely be trusted in this situation.

One of Jay’s favorite things about you is how dirty you can be, but never once has he seen you be more dominant over another person. Certainly not him. He finds it incredibly sexy in the way you both mock and talk down towards Jake even though he’s making you feel good. You don’t do that to Jay, you only moan for him. So yeah, maybe, going against his gut in this situation and allowing Jake to actually touch you is a bit hotter than he wants it to be.

The best part? Jake doesn’t know your cues when you’re nearing orgasm, but Jay does and he uses that to his advantage. Spreading your leg out further so Jake can do whatever it is he’s doing with his fingers better.

Jay softens at the fact that he would have already brought you to orgasm by now. Your soft mews sound more like you’re trying to fluster Jake rather than a reaction to pleasure, and it’s fun. It’s boosting his ego so high that he actually wonders how long it’ll take Jake to get you there.

You feel just as boosted as Jay does right now. With his false sleep as he attempts to help you through this, Jake is half-focused on finger fucking you out of fear that he will be caught. It’s all well and good, but you want to cum.

“Jake,” You whisper loudly, forgetting that you’re supposed to be pretending this is a secret.

When Jake tries to pull his fingers out of you at the loud whisper, ultimately so he could pretend he was just watching the movie and absolutely not burying his fingers into his best friend’s girl, you hold his hand in place. Preventing his fingers from leaving you and you look at him.

“Don’t stop.” You lean into him and whisper in a lower tone, rolling your hips forward against his fingers as you hold them there harshly. “You can make me cum this way, right? I promise I’ll be quiet, just pretend Jay’s not here.”

Jake looks at you, darting his eyes to the sleeping Jay next to you, and then he slowly nods with a nervous swallow.

He wants to fuck you so bad, but this is all he gets. Still, it’s more than he anticipated and he will be damned if he embarrasses himself by not getting you off like this. Gently, Jake keeps his eyes on Jay as he moves slightly over you, getting a better angle with his wrist so that he can quite literally, fuck you senseless with his fingers.

With one hand on the couch over your shoulder, the other between your legs, you watch him as his eyes continuously dart between you and your boyfriend. Jake can’t watch the screen anymore considering he’s now faced away from it, he has to watch you. If this truly was a high-stakes session of pleasure, surely the two of you would be caught like this.

Thankfully, Jake doesn’t notice the very aware hand of Jay gripping your leg open, which makes it more sexy. To see him put your pleasure over his friendship with your boyfriend so willingly, to position himself in such a way that is far more telling than it needs to be, yeah, he’s a fucking simp.

“Oh, fuck–” You choke out, feeling Jake’s newly angled fingers plunge deeper into you. His knuckle bumps against your clit easily when he does this and it has your entire body jolting a bit.

Jake swallows that praise, pulling his fingers out and pushing them back in at a quicker pace. The sound of your pussy is not quite as loud as the movie on the screen, but all three of you can hear it. Even Jay has to hold back a small moan at how genuine you sounded just now. His grip on your leg becomes almost bruising as his own arousal stirs past a comfortable level.

Jake’s eyes aren’t shifting anymore, you notice. As you stare up at him, he stares right back at you. Seemingly forgetting that he’s supposed to be hyper-aware of his surroundings right now. Instead, Jake is noting the way your body slightly shifts up when he harshly pushes his fingers in, to the point he could nearly imagine he’s fucking you.

Except if he were, he would hope to have you moaning more, moving more, fucking yourself on him, using him.

You can practically see Jake lose himself to lust. His eyes are dark, and his messy is hair falling against his lashes as if he were the one being fucked out right now. Internally, you feel such a large amount of endearment over him.

You think back to when he fucked his fist in the car. He was showing an extreme amount of intent during that moment and it had your head fucking spinning watching him do it. You can imagine he must be hard right now. Jay must be hard too. If you wanted to, you could expose Jay for being awake and ask them both to fuck you right now, but you relent. Relishing in this power of having them both, one more unaware than the other. It’s too sweet to put an end to so quickly.

As you look back up at Jake, you want to kiss him. Jay never said anything about that but you assume that could actually be crossing a line, so you don’t. Against your own wishes of wanting to keep this a secret, you lean yourself to Jay who still tries to pretend he’s asleep.

Jake watches and panics, but can already feel you grabbing his hand and forcing him to keep pace. The fear that runs through his bones of being caught is fucking intense right now, especially when you lean your head into Jay’s neck and start sucking it.

You can feel Jake try to pry his hand back and you chuckle at it with an unstoppable smile against your boyfriend’s neck because, well, now Jay moves his hand to replace yours. Now he’s the one forcing Jake to keep pace.

Jake’s eyes widened at the realization, relaxing his hand against the unfamiliar grip on it.

“Wait–” He says in a raspy voice, looking between the two of you as Jay peeps an eyes open. “How long have you been awake?”

Jay drops the act with a motion of slamming Jake’s fingers into you one last time before removing his grip and now grabbing yours to place against his embarrassingly hard length.

“The whole time.” Jay glares at him. “Too late to stop now, go on.” He encourages, wincing at the way you instantly grip him through his pants. “Do as she asked, make her cum.”

Jake feels embarrassed again. Despite technically not actually being “ caught” , he still feels ashamed of what he was doing, yet, his fingers are still in you.

“Let me see if you can do it,” Jay continues, adjusting his body so that he can look down at what Jake is doing. “Move the blanket, baby.” He adds as he looks at you now.

Shoving the blanket down, Jake notes how your hand is palming against Jay, and his fingers are inside of you. For some reason, Jay being hard makes him feel a little less ashamed but still embarrassed. How is he supposed to perform under pressure like this?

“Stop looking at us like that. If you’re not gonna continue, I'll finish her off myself – without you, ” Jay half-insults, half-encourages his best friend.

Jake moves his fingers again at that, the realization of being given permission washing over him so quickly that it almost felt like an orgasm running through his body. He can do whatever he needs to do to make you come. He doesn’t have to hide it, it’s not a secret.

Without a second thought, Jake pulls himself off the couch and stands to his feet to get between your legs. He looks between the two of you one last time and then down at your pajama shorts. For the first time without asking, Jake pulls them off of you in one swift motion before falling to his knees and examining how wet you look, pulsing around the loss of his fingers.

“How does she look?” Jay asks with a quirk of his brow, bucking his hips up against your hand and tilting his head to kiss you on the temple.

Jake says nothing but swallows in response, forcing himself to focus on you and pretend that Jay isn’t there studying the way he fucks his fingers back into you.

When you let out a small whine at his silence, rolling your eyes the same time you roll your hips, Jay chuckles and reaches to pull his own pajama pants down. If you three are gonna be doing this, might as well have fun with it.

Jake ignores it still, using his fingers to spread your lips and watch your hole continue to clench around nothing when he slips his fingers back out. Even without seeing your face at this moment, he can see how much you want this. Your glistening folds are practically begging to be fucked by one of them, if not both. He makes haste, watching as your pussy envelopes three of his fingers at once now, clenching them so tightly that he can feel them crowd together inside of you.

You whimper at it, rolling your hips forward to sink his fingers further into you.

“Can I lick her?” Jake asks, not moving his eyes from the way he can see your slick drip down his fingers.

”Please?”

“Does she want you to?” Jay counters, also not moving his eyes from the way your fist circles the head of his cock before sliding back down and making him shiver.

You don’t even answer, and instead use your other hand to reach for Jake’s head, gripping his hair that’s in reach to you and dragging his face forward until you feel his breath on your clit.

Jake takes that as an invitation, instantly flattening his tongue against your swollen bud and sliding down. You can feel his fingers spreading you open, reaching into you so deeply as you begin to feel his tongue trace around his fingers at your entrance.

You moan, which makes Jay turn his face and lift your chin as if to shut you up from showing pleasure towards another man. You find that sexy, cute even, so you reward your boyfriend and reassure him with a harsher grip against his cock, milking him of his precum and chuckling into his mouth.

Jake doesn’t even care about what’s happening on the couch. He’s on his knees in front of you, tasting you, fingering you, and he genuinely thinks this might be heaven. He can feel his own length adjust in his pants, happy that the loose fabric accommodates the growth to full hardness. Jake already knows he’s not going to be getting off tonight by anything other than his own hand, and he does not give a shit about it.

He licks against you as if you are the last woman on earth, honestly, and Jay can’t even bring himself to be in competition with Jake at this moment considering how much attention you’re giving to him and not Jake. This could work, surely, he’s never seen you so horny over a simple handjob before.

You roll your hips against Jake’s mouth repeatedly, chasing your high as he continuously tries to accommodate every spot of your pussy that needs stimulation.

“He’s good at this–” You choke out, reaching to grab Jake’s head and hold him in place against your clit. You can feel his fingers pick up speed when you do that, and you can feel the vibrations of his groans against your clit even more.

“Oh yeah?” Jay laughs in a breath, darting his eyes to see Jake’s shoulder flexing as he fucks into you, his hair a mess between your fingers. “Better than me?”

You shake your head, eyes sparkling up at Jay as he finally leans down to whisper to you.

“Are you close? You seem close–”

You nod this time, rolling your eyes back a bit when Jake intentionally licks circles around your clit and pumps his fingers painfully fast into you.

“Don’t tell him,” Jay warns, fucking himself against your now loosened grip. “Do you want me to take over?”

You say nothing back but Jay can see your body tense. He makes haste, jumping up from his spot and practically shoving Jake out of the way to get between your legs.

Jake doesn’t even know what’s happening, the loss of your warmth around his fingers and the taste of you gone all too quickly as he watches Jay bottom out into you in one go. His best friend’s fingers replace what his tongue was doing, and Jake watches the way you lay breathlessly against the couch.

Now is his time, he guesses. Reaching one hand into his pants, he shows no shame in using his slick-coated fingers to furiously slide up and down his length at a pace he wishes he were fucking you at.

There, on his knees, Jake pushes and pulls himself to the edge in time with you. He watches your face and watches the way your hands grip against Jay as he fucks into you at a pace that looks painful. The sound of slaps in the room coming from all three of you, finally, you come undone.

He watches the way you hold Jay’s hips in place, burying himself into you as you quiver around him, and only then does Jake let out a choked moan, coating the inside of his pants with strings of thick, milky cum.

Just as quickly as you hit your climax, your eyes lazily fall to Jake as he sits out of breath, wet spots staining his pants as Jay continues to chase his own high.

The two of you look at each other for a long moment. You can’t help but feel that he looks entirely sexy when he’s spent and empty of his arousal. You don’t sense a hint of disappointment in his eyes as he looks back at you, breath uneven, not at all bothered by the fact that he’s not the one fucking you.

Except he is bothered by it. He felt like he came so close to making you cum, all for Jay to step in and take over. Still, that’s your boyfriend. Jake feels lucky enough to even be part of this. And by the time Jay finally gets himself off, all three of you just look at each other.

“So,” Jay sighs, out of breath. “She tastes good, right?” He smiles, proud of himself for not letting Jake make you come.

You playfully slap him with a laugh, shuffling from the couch and standing to your feet. You examine the wet spot from where you were being fucked open by both of them and smile at it.

“Let’s go shower, again.” You sigh, grabbing Jay’s hand and dragging him to the bathroom.

Jake is left sitting there, still on his knees, processing what just happened.

He could get used to this.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

By the third night, Jay is geared up and ready knowing full well that Jake has already touched you and he’s going to have to share tonight if your words are anything to go by. If you’re asking him to let Jake fuck you, it’s gonna have to be his way.

Your eyes sparkled when Jay agreed in the silent morning as Jake slept like a fucking rock in the bed across the room.

“Don’t worry,” You assured him. “I love you, I’m just having fun.”

“ I know.” Jay responded to you, silently and looking back at you.

He didn’t worry so much about it after last night, anyway. He got more into it than he thought he would, and the competition of it all got both you and Jay off. Jake appears to be having fun too, and staying aware of the fake-ass boundaries the two of you set for him.

“Tonight?” You look to Jay and nod as you head off for the kitchen in an attempt to make something to eat for both of them.

“Tonight, if he’s willing.” Jay confirms, ultimately stirring Jake from his sleep.

“Good morning, you can sleep. She’s gonna make some food since we got her off or something.” Jay says towards Jake after you disappear from the doorway, lifting his arms and stretching his body out.

“What were you guys talking about?” Jake asks half asleep as he hears your footsteps towards the kitchen fade away. The sleep in his voice is heavy and he clears his throat as he rubs his eyes.

“Nothing much. She wants to play a game later.” Jay tries not to ruin the plan.

“Oh yeah, like what?” Jake sits up, reaching for his phone to check the time.

“Probably monopoly or some shit.”

Jake notes that Jay appears to sound bored of the conversation, so he doesn’t push or pry any longer.

“We going to the beach today?” He asks now, somehow not feeling awkward at all about last night. It almost feels normal now.

“Yeah, probably after we eat. Wanna go help her with me if you don’t plan to go back to sleep?”

Something inside of Jake swells up at the invitation from Jay to help you do mundane things. Boyfriendly things. As if the two of them are your boyfriends, and not just Jay.

“Gonna brush my teeth first.”

Jay nods, giving Jake a tired smile as he heads off into the kitchen after you.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake isn’t sure if he’s thinking too hard about it or if he’s getting his hopes up. He’s a lover, not a fighter, and very much willing to share you if the two of you offered to involve him in the relationship with more than just sex. Cooking in the kitchen with the two of you made him happy. Jay was clearly in boyfriend mode, guiding you by the waist when you were wisping from one end of the kitchen to the other. Jake was also kind of in boyfriend mode, though the two of you probably didn’t catch on. It’s not that he’s trying to intrude, it’s just that, he kind of has a hard time fucking a woman and not having feelings after the fact.

When Jake said you looked pretty, Jay didn’t falter even a tiny bit at the compliment. Instead, he smiled at Jake with a nod because of fucking course you look pretty. And when Jay gave you a light kiss to the lips as you stirred something in a bowl, Jake found himself wanting to do the same. He knows he can’t though, so he keeps to himself in this little unsure bubble of what the two of you feel towards him.

The food was decent, save for the fact that none of you have stepped foot in a grocery store and are surviving off of what you brought in a cooler from home. Jake could tell some of the vegetables were wilted and needed to be cooked, thankfully, none of you enjoy letting food go to waste so that’s why you’re stuck eating it this morning.

It’s comfortable. Too comfortable. Especially when Jake takes it upon himself to do the dishes despite always arguing at home about doing them. Jay finds himself in a strange kind of headspace too. Lightening up about the idea of Jake being around and touching you, but also, like, still being possessive because you're super into it. If Jake was anyone else, Jay doesn’t think this trio thing would work out as well. Still, this is a conversation for after the trip.

By the time the three of you are at the beach, you make a show of yourself for both of them and anyone else who happens to be looking your way. If tonight goes anything like you want it to, you need them to be absolutely feral for you by the time the sun sets.

It works for the most part. Ghosting your hand over Jake’s cock under the water, blatantly grabbing Jay’s out in the open just to see him buckle under the arousal of it being in public. You feel on top of the universe as their eyes go from bright to dark and full of arousal as the day goes on.

When you part from both of them, heading back to the shore in order to find a bathroom somewhere, the two of them stay behind. You do your best in giving those two alone time too because surely they need to talk or something.

That, they do.

“She’s doing all of this on purpose, you know.” Jay laughs, wading in the water beside Jake. “How are you feeling about it?”

Jake shrugs, avoiding the incoming wave and lifting his chin with a wince. “I’m feeling less weird about it now, I guess.”

Jay nods, looking at him and studying his expression.

“She wants to fuck you.”

Jake can’t help but smile. He has no words to respond to what Jay just said.

“Shockingly, I kind of want to see her do it.” Jay splashes Jake as if he’s mad, but stands back as his best friend wipes his eyes.

“Yeah?” Jake’s eyes are beaming despite the redness of the saltwater hitting them, and Jay just stares at him.

“I don’t know man, I’ve never been into this kind of thing. Sharing, and such, but like–” Jay tries to explain, searching internally for a reason as to why he should hold onto the annoyance of sharing his girlfriend. “I don’t know.”

Jake tilts his head, looking at him.

“It’s kind of fun?”

Jake nods this time. He’s still getting the short end of the stick but he literally couldn't care less.

“I like watching and I like when you let me touch her.” Jake admits, glancing away and breathing in through an embarrassed wince over what he just said.

For some reason, that sentence arouses Jay. “When you let me touch her.” Jake is really giving full power to Jay to control a sex life that isn’t his and it’s embarrassingly sexy to be given that power over another man. He’s not entirely interested in Jake sexually, but he is entirely interested in Jake’s sexual interest for his girlfriend. Interested in controlling it.

“This is going a lot further than we ever intended it to.” Jay comments, sinking himself lower in the water and thinking intently on what’s going to happen after the three of you get home. “Guess we will see what happens.”

Jake quirks an eyebrow.

“If I asked you to fuck her, would you?” Jay continues, in his head, about why he feels like all of this is okay to him now.

Jake narrows his eyes, wondering if it’s a trap but ultimately nods.

“I mean, yeah, if you both told me to.”

There’s the control again. Jake blatantly gives it up just to get the smallest taste of what you share with Jay.

“And you wouldn’t do it behind my back? Like, be real with me right now.”

Jake knows he would probably be too weak to say no to you. He thinks you know it too.

“What makes you think she would go behind your back anyway?” Jake counters, challenging Jay’s trust in you.

And then it all makes sense. You wouldn’t go behind his back for anything that’s not agreed upon. You’d tell him everything, you’d involve him, or you’d at least ask if you can fuck his best friend behind closed doors.

It all feels like it’s falling into place too perfectly, and that’s the only uncomfortable thing about this. Jay looks at Jake and then shifts his eyes over to the shore, where you’ve come back from your adventure to the bathroom.

“Nah, you’re right.” Jay assures himself, standing back up and waving over to you. “Just keep in mind that she’s my girlfriend and I’ll be the one to make her cum.”

Jake is well aware that you’re not his, Jay doesn’t have to rub it in.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Though Jay never explicitly stated that Jake would be able to fuck you tonight, it became increasingly obvious as the day went on. Even as you blatantly touched him in front of Jay, he would simply avert his eyes from Jake and carry on with whatever he was doing.

By the time the three of you got back to the house, Jake had to fucking fight himself to not jerk off in the shower. Clearly you were wanting to have fun again tonight if the sheer amount of touching throughout the day is any indication.

The showers from all of you went by far too quickly to ignore as well. Jake thinks he beat his record speed of being out and dressed in under six minutes. You and Jay, opting to shower together, made Jake think the two of you would go in there and fuck behind closed doors, but even that didn’t happen as the two of you were leaving the bathroom in under fifteen minutes.

Now, the three of you are in this beach house away from a city that is far too familiar to you. The air feels electric but also slightly awkward. You don’t know how to start, Jay certainly doesn’t know how to start, and Jake simply needs the green light to make his attempt at whatever the fuck is supposed to happen. It’s a knowing kind of look that the three of you share as you head into the bedroom one by one. Jake doesn’t know if he should get onto his own bed, or yours at this point considering he hasn’t exactly been told what’s supposed to happen.

He didn’t have to think too hard though, as he trails in behind Jay who guides you to your own shared bed with him. Jake stands there in silence, watching the way both of you pat your hands on the bed as if to invite him in.

“Shit, this is really happening?” He asks, almost wanting to cover his ears and cringe at the way he breaks the silence. Jay nods to him silently.

“If you want it to?” You ask, scooting closer to Jay and feeling him move a hand to your thigh.

Jake is careful when he makes his way to the bed, glancing at both you and his best friend as if the gig would be up soon and you’d both start laughing at him for believing that this is happening. Instead, though, you adjust yourself and your boyfriend on the bed as Jake makes his attempt to find a space to claim for himself.

Now lying on your back, head on Jay’s lap as you both watch Jake, he sits himself awkwardly on the side of the bed and stares forward.

“Bro, why are you all shy? You literally ate her out last night.” Jay laughs, trying to blame the nervousness all on Jake despite not knowing how to get the ball rolling himself at this point. Then, he’s reaching forward and over you to spread your legs out. Your bathrobe does little to hide the lack of material underneath, already bare and ready for both of the men in the room.

“I don’t know–” Jake argues, glancing over at you and instantly drawing his eyes to what’s beneath the robe. He tries to look away with a gulp of whatever the fuck he was going to say next, but ends up double taking at the view of you being presented to him by Jay. “I’ve never done this before…” He trails off, voice coming to a whisper as he shamelessly stares and the arousal begins to take full hold of his body.

You shift your hips a bit, as if to grind yourself against nothing to show that just like him, you can be desperate too.

“Fuck,” Jake sighs out, shifting his body fully onto the bed and facing you. “I–”

“Go on.” Jay encourages, noting the way his friend is practically drooling at the image of you in front of him like this. Proud of himself for having a girlfriend so fucking alluring.

“Should I just,” Jake stops, looking at Jay and avoiding eye contact with you. “touch her? like, what are my limits?’

Jay honestly doesn’t care what he does as long as you want it but, what he’s damn sure won’t happen is Jake getting head from you. He can eat you out all he wants but your mouth is to never be on him in any way, shape, or form without being told to do it by Jay himself.

“Help him out.” You comment, flicking your head back a bit to look at Jay from under your lashes. He smirks at you and responds with a small nod.

“Remember, you can just tell us to stop if you change your mind.” Jay directs towards Jake as he leans forward and pulls him closer to you by his arm.

Jake falls a bit, on all fours right between your legs as he stares down at your folds. He says nothing in response to Jay, now lost in the world of getting to taste you again and wondering how many more times he will be granted permission to do this.

“Stick your tongue out and use it, Jake.” Jay demands in a slightly…off tone? One that seemingly makes fun of Jake for not having touched you yet.

Jake listens, granting Jay a nice little ego boost as he hums from behind you at your sharp inhale when Jake kisses against your clit. Still, this is going to happen his way and if Jake thinks he can eat pussy well, he’s about to learn.

Jay leans forward, your body leaning with him as he harshly grabs Jake’s hair, pressing his lips against you harder, guiding his head up and down. “Stick your tongue out more–” Jay demands again, gripping his hair harder.

Strangely enough, Jake allows it. He sticks his tongue out the moment Jay demands it, and allows himself to be guided by the hair against your pussy. He groans out against you, tasting you again despite it not being of his own free will. Would Jake prefer eating you out the way he wants to? Absolutely. Does the feeling of having his head guided between your legs also kind of get him off? Oh, fuck yeah. All he has to do is imagine it’s your hand doing it.

You, however, watch as Jay pulls Jake up, still by the hair, and looks at him.

“Tongue fuck her, I’ll take care of the rest.” He says, releasing Jake and watching the way he sinks down between your legs again.

Making it easier for him, you prop your legs on his shoulders, ultimately boxing Jake in against your wet and glistening hole. It isn’t long before you feel his tongue circling, inserting against your walls. It’s not a lot to go off of, but god he looks so good between your legs like this. The image only gets better when Jay unties the loose knot of your robe and pinches against one of your nipples, his other hand going straight to your clit and rubbing it just the way you like.

“Can you cum like this for him?” Jay asks against your ear, holding you against him with his hand still playing against your nipple. “Let him really taste you?”

You nod to him with a moan, shifting your hips as if to fuck yourself on Jake’s tongue. Each pinch against your nipple sends a sensation straight to where you’re being stimulated the most, and yeah, you can definitely cum on Jake’s tongue if he keeps trying to reach as deeply as he is now.

Jay’s fingers are expert when it comes to your body, he could have you falling apart right here, right now if he wanted to, but he doesn’t. He watches, instead, the way you tighten your legs around Jake’s head to pull him in closer. The way his best friend doesn’t even come up for air is laughable, but he gets it.

It’s the fact that for the first time, Jay kind of enjoys the idea of a man touching what’s his, solely because he can see how badly they want it. Knowing that he, himself, can do it whenever he wants and they can’t.

When your boyfriend rubs your clit faster, it has you chasing Jake’s tongue harder , and when you chase Jake’s tongue, he makes a point to lick every crevice you have to offer in order to entice moans and groans of his name from your mouth.

When you start to tense up, Jay knows exactly what it means. He lurches forward again and pulls Jake away from you, reaching back just as quickly to rub your clit harder.

“Watch her cum,” Jay smiles, abusing your clit just the way you love it until your legs are shaking and falling from Jake’s shoulders. “Keep your tongue out.”

“Shit–” Jake sighs out, watching your cunt drip out its continuous orgasm. Without any indication from the two of you, he takes the risk and dips back down, tongue lapping up the mess of your arousal and humming against your folds in a beautiful and desperate mantra.

“Oh god–” You choke out, jolting from the sensitivity of his tongue toying with you, Jay continuing to press your orgasm further, not relenting even as sensitivity takes hold.

Jake licks up every single bit of it and Jay watches him, feeling you continuously quiver in his grasp as you come down from the high.

“Now, fuck her.” Jay smiles knowingly, looking down at you and the way you already look dazed.

Jake shoots his head up to look at Jay, instantly he’s nodding and practically throwing his pants off. A true desperate show of how much he wants to be inside of you.

Both you and Jay examine Jake when he pulls his cock out. You’ve seen it before but never in its full glory. He’s big.

Jay glances down at you with an ‘are you sure you wanna do this?’ look and all you can do is chuckle and wiggle your hips as if to entice Jake to fuck you so senseless that Jay appears to be jealous again. It wouldn’t take much, really, because Jay is jealous right now. He needs to make damn sure you know that his cock is the only one that can make you scream, regardless of length, or whatever. He’s still thicker than Jake is.

Jake watches the two of you share looks and instantly gets a bit shy, doesn’t change the fact that he’s gently jerking himself off in preparation though.

“Condom?” Jake asks, obviously.

“No,” You say, nudging him closer again with your leg. “Im on the pill and you live with us, I know for a fact that you haven’t been fucking around.”

More shy now, Jake averts his eyes as he shuffles his way closer, all the way until he can feel his cock pressed against your leg. In one last attempt before he goes off the deep end, he looks to Jay for approval and is granted it almost instantly with a nod.

He slides in, painfully slow in your opinion, but to Jake it’s like he’s trying to feel each ridge, clench, and wall around him as he does it. You wince only a little at the size, taking a deep breath and grabbing Jay’s hand when he bottoms out.

Jake attempts to let you adjust, but it doesn’t go as smoothly as he wants to because the second he pulls his hips back, he’s slamming into you with a force he didn’t even know he had. The sounds you let out as he does this has Jay going fucking insane, you can feel his cock against your back continuously twitching as Jake fucks into you.

Only when you keep your eyes on his best friend does Jay move from under you, replacing himself with two pillows as he stands at your side.

“Stop looking at him like that,” He demands, lowering his pants enough to let his cock spring free and in front of your face. “Look at me.” He continues, stroking himself as he stares down at you.

This is what you want. You want them to fight for your attention right now. Thankfully to Jay, Jake is in his own world, head thrown back as he continuously plunges into you with the obvious need of a man who hasn’t had sex in months.

You stare up at Jay then allow your eyes to fall to his pulsing and raging length in his hand, without hesitation you open your mouth for him.

“Good girl,” He praises, setting his cock on your tongue and allowing you to feel the weight of it before he slowly slides further into your mouth. “How does it feel to be fucked from both ends?” Jay asks with a bit of a demeaning tone. “Is it everything you ever wanted?” He asks again, this time sliding further down your throat before taking hold of your head and holding it in place.

You have no reason to answer his questions, because he already knows the answer judging from the sound of how wet you are. He can fucking hear it.

“I bet it is.” He continues through a sigh, effectively fucking your mouth open much like his best friend is doing to your pussy.

One thing Jake doesn’t seem to catch onto is the fact that both you and Jay are talkers during sex. Jake, not so much, so when your mouth is gagged by a cock, he has no choice but to listen to Jay talk to you.

Jake’s hips stutter only slightly when you gag around your boyfriend, all because that gag appears to travel down your body. Your cuntclenches him so tightly that he could honestly start crying right now if it wouldn't end with him being made fun of.

So fucking tight, practically choking him out by the cock.

“Do that again–” Jake pleads, gripping your legs and spreading them away from his hips. He angles himself a bit more by placing both hands under your ass and pressing into you again, this time stilling his hips so he can feel your walls jerk him off.

Jay smirks, not knowing what the fuck Jake is referring to.

“Do what again? Gag her?” He asks, jolting his hips forward and again sliding down your throat.

You gag, and your pussy constricts.

“Goddamn, yes, that.” Jake chokes out in a sigh, trying to press his cock into you even deeper.

Jay looks down at you and the way your eyes start to glisten with tears. He knows they’re good tears, especially with the way you try to smile around his cock.

“So dirty,” He compliments, sliding out of your mouth and wiping a tear from your cheek. “This okay?” He continues, knowing you like it, but he still needs to get that confirmation considering this is new to all three of you.

You nod with a moan and a deep breath, grabbing his drenched length and sinking it straight back down your throat. Jay seethes a string of curses when you do that. You’re too fucking good at deep-throating and it’s driving him up a fucking wall how hot you are right now.

Being fucked open is one thing, but being fucked open from both ends is another. Even with Jake practically cockwarming himself in you, you can feel how rock hard he is with each twitch and aroused pulse, his length consistently putting pressure against your g-spot. God, you feel so full.

Jay elicits gags from you again, pulls out so you can breathe, and then goes right back to fucking your mouth at his own pace. Jake, on the other end, has since lost all form of self control with your last gag. You’re dripping around him, clenching him so fucking tightly, he can’t help it when he grips your ass firmly and essentially gags you himself with how hard he begins to piston his hips. Even Jay is thrown off by the way you stop sucking and your mouth goes slack.

He slides out of your mouth, listening as a drawn out moan of Jake’s name comes from your lips.

“Look at her–” Jay glares, forcing Jake to slow his hips and look at you. “Look at how good you’re making her feel.” He adds again, only slightly more aroused than he is threatened by your expression.

Jake is looking, watching as your eyes fall to him and you buck your hips up as if to ride yourself on him.

“God, please Jay, can she ride me?” Jake loses composure, slipping his hands out from under your ass and grabbing your waist.

Jay doesn’t even get to answer the firm “no” he was intending because he can see you look at him with pleading eyes just like his best friend. It sucks to have all of this power but still not be able to say no to those pretty fucking, tear stained eyes when you look at him like this. What’s worse?

The way Jake is looking at him is arguably…just as fucking hot.

And so, Jay bows his head in approval and wonders when the fuck he became the third wheel in his own relationship, that is, until you sit yourself up, push Jake back, and settle yourself on his thighs.

You don’t move as you look at your boyfriend, your pleading eyes now turning to concern as he stands by himself off of the bed. For some reason, it comforts him.

Jay smiles at you softly, kind of like a small confirmation that he’s doing just fine, and then moves forward to further that confirmation for you.

“She takes it so well, right?” Jay averts his eyes to Jake, getting behind you on the bed and settling down with his cock in hand. “Go on, ride him, baby.”

So you do, rolling your hips forward and backwards in a way that has Jake slipping in and out of you with ease. He can feel you drip onto his legs and honestly, he’s in fucking heaven right now as he places both hands on your thighs and stares directly at his cock disappearing inside of you.

It’s a shame really, considering being ridden is one of Jake’s weaknesses.

“Can I cum in her?” Jake blurts mindlessly, his hips attempting to fuck into you despite your weight on him keeping his hips down. “Jay, please? Can I cum in her?”

His questions come out frantic, pleading for the ability to release his control and absolutely let you fuck him into oblivion, but he waits, now halting your hits from moving as if to contain the load he’s about to release without permission.

“What if I say no?” Jay laughs, gripping his cock and watching the way Jake twitches inside of you.

You move your hips again, a small chuckle lightly coming out alongside Jay as Jake hits rock bottom and somehow spirals further down.

“Shit, shit!” Jake groans, urging you to lift up a bit as he painfully begins to slam into you.

Jay can hear his cum seeping out of you with each plunge of his cock, he can see it spurt out of you and down Jake’s legs. God damn it’s way hotter than he anticipated it being.

Without a second thought Jay is pulling himself up and positioning himself behind you. He doesn’t say a word as he presses the small of your back forward so that your tits press against Jake’s face, and prods his cock at your entrance. Right there beside Jake, he slides in with an uncomfortable stretch.

“This is how you fuck my girlfriend.” Jay groans, feeling your pussy hug around his cock and his best friend’s. He can already feel Jake going soft from the recent orgasm, but he doesn’t relent. Jay starts moving his hips regardless, fucking Jake’s released load back into you with an impossible stretch.

Honestly, Jay is on cloud 9 listening to both of you whine and moan. Neither of you stopping him, and even Jake finds the sensitivity of his cock being fucked against as insanely pleasurable as it is painful.

You’re staring down at Jake when you slightly lift, and he’s looking up at you as Jay continuously stimulates you both. At this moment, you’re both in this together and Jay has full control. Deserving control, you think. Smiling at Jake, you drop your head to his neck and start talking.

“You felt so good,” You praise him, moaning at the way Jay slams into you. “Can you get hard again?”

Jake simply nods because he cannot, for the life of him, think of words right now. He’s already feeling his arousal coming back to him. Even Jay feels it, in the way his softening cock manages to get hard again within mere minutes. He’s never been able to get hard again that quickly, but then again, Jake was practically pussy starved so he doesn’t question it.

The fit inside of you grows tighter and tighter as Jake’s cock wakes up to the overstimulation, all the way until all three of you are wincing at the drag of Jay continuously fucking into you. The sound of moans, slick, and heavy breathing is all that can be heard when Jake moves his hips at an opposite rhythm of Jay.

“Oh, fuck yes–” Jay moans, throwing his head back and looking down at how stretched open you are with two cocks stuffed inside of you. “You’re doing so good, so fucking good–” He babbles on, praising you, or Jake, he doesn’t even know at this point.

Overstimulated, his cock feels as though your cunt has a death grip on it as he continues to squeeze along size Jake’s length, your wet and sore walls clenching them so tightly that Jay barely has to move at all to feel like he’s fucking the daylights out of you.

Jake’s small thrusts only push the orgasm to the edge for both you and Jay. The head of Jake’s cock drags alongside Jay’s with each thrust and it has him nearly gasping for air when his orgasm hits him.

Jake hasn’t stopped moaning since Jay fit himself into you, nor have you. Who has control in this situation? Not a single person, not even Jay, as he frantically bottoms himself out and shoots his cum against the impossibly tight space inside of you. Jay’s orgasm ignites yours, your g-spot having been stimulated this entire time, you nearly squeeze so hard that they both are forced out of you, but they fight the sensation, continuing to bury themselves into you through your high.

Pained gasps drag on and all you can feel are fingertips both clawing and squeezing at you when you release around them, squeezing both of them tighter, and tighter, until Jay has no choice but to slip his spent cock out of you.

You slump over instantly, your walls fitting themself back around Jake’s still hard length inside of you.

Jake struggles to orgasm again, unsure of if he has any cum left after the first one, so he pulls out of you the moment Jay shoots a look at him, as if to tell him to stop. Still in his aroused state of mind though, Jake practically shoves you back onto Jay as he works himself up to whatever orgasm he has left by his own hand.

It takes a moment, but you feel his second load hitting against your thighs not long after and all that’s left to do now is assess the damage.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

There was no damage. Even as Jay apologetically begs you to tell him the truth. To tell him he went too far, or was too rough. You liked it, and you hate that you have to convince him of it.

“You sure you’re okay?” Jay asks, kissing you once on the back of your neck after you nod with a dazed smile. “And you?” Jay averts his eyes to Jake, who is sprawled out regaining his breath at the foot of your bed.

“I’m great, actually.” He says, looking over to Jay with a dopey kind of smile.

“You’re both insane.” Jay finally releases a breath of relief, realizing how much you and his best friend have in common sexually.

It’s…weirdly endearing, making his heart swell at the way both you and Jake look at him expectantly. Like still, he has control over all three of you.

“You didn’t like it?” You ask, and Jake nods along with your question to look at Jay.

“Of course I fucking liked it.”

“Then what’s the issue?” Jake asks, sitting himself up now and pretending he doesn’t get a headrush almost instantly.

Jay thinks hard about it. Is there even an issue? Did he ever expect to actually share his girlfriend with Jake this way? Of course not, but it doesn’t change the fact that all three of you enjoyed every bit of that. Plus, Jake doesn’t appear to be super competitive and listens to everything Jay says to do.

Who wouldn’t be turned on by that kind of control anyway?

・・・・・・ EPILOGUE ・・・・・・

Jake has become a constant fixture in your sexual relationship with Jay now, but he doesn’t step out of line much to Jay’s pleasure. Even now, months down the road from the beach vacation, all three of you came to terms with the fact that Jake wants to stay, and so do the two of you.

Rent is split three ways, you’re split two ways, but you get it all. Truly, you feel like you have the best end of this bargain. Even now, Jay tends to have more private sex with you as if to avoid constantly living in the world of kinks and pushing boundaries. You enjoy it. You love sharing moments with him without Jake around, and even when Jake does walk in on it, he doesn’t stay most of the time because now, when it’s meant to be for all three of you, Jake is blatantly invited. He knows now that any sex he isn’t aware of isn’t for him, despite it being the complete opposite from before.

It’s a comfortable kind of thing. Even if the three of you don’t talk about it outside of these walls, it’s what you like, it’s what they like. Even Jay has loosened up a bit more about you and Jake together. It’s not like you’re dating him, but your boyfriend has actually implied you go busy yourself with Jake when he’s exhausted or too tired to fuck you himself. If anything, when you do go and busy yourself with Jake, Jay usually ends up watching anyway.

“Jake,” Jay says from across the room after yet another session of cuckolding his girlfriend and best friend. “I hope you know that she’s still my girlfriend and I will always be the one to fuck her better.”

“You’re really gonna say that after I just made her cum twice before you even got your cock out?” Jake laughs.

“She’s my girlfriend.” Jay glares but Jake can see his smile.

“I know. You keep her happy.” Jake drops the playful act and decides to genuinely let Jay know.

“Unfortunately, your cock is required for her happiness sometimes.”

“No, his cock is required for fun. You are required for my happiness.” You interject, reminding them that you’re literally still in the room, heaving from your third orgasm.

“And that’s why this little arrangement works out.” Jay agrees, lifting himself to kiss you. “Only I get your love and affection. Jake just gets 30% of your orgasms.”

“10% of yours too, apparently.” Jake shifts his eyes to Jay.

Jay does remember the few times he’s let Jake fuck you and grew so aroused by how you act with his best friend in contrast to himself, that yeah, he guesses he can give Jake and his huge cock some credit for making him cum a few times, but really, it’s because he’s seeing his girlfriend stretched out and cock stupid, definitely because they both whine in unison over him.

At the end of the day, it’s cute, especially because Jake can still never fuck you as good as he will. You may be cock-stupid for his size, but you’re cock-drunk for how Jay works it inside of you.

And so, it appears that Jay is in a happy relationship with you, a healthy one. One where he’s perfectly comfortable cleaning his best friend’s cum out of you.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

#enhypen smut #sim jaeyun smut #park jongseong smut #enha smut #jay smut #jake smut

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tojiscumdumpster · 2 months

Text

⠀ ⠀⠀ "unwanted" MATRIMONY

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀byakuya kuchiki.

✧ summary to preserve the existence of y/n's clan, she is forced to wed the twenty-eighth head of the kuchiki clan—byakuya kuchiki.

✧ content warnings reader is described as a black woman who uses she/her pronouns. clanhead!reader x captain!byakuya. bleach verse au (no manga spoilers) byakuya is a noble, so they'll both be speaking as such. lowkey giving royalty au vibes. told in first POV — reader's. tropes included: arranged marriage, childhood rivals to lovers. usage of c*nt, missionary position, fingering, nipple play, praise and breeding kink, primal play, terms of endearment — blossom, my love, etc. plot with smut, fluff, and a touch of angst if you squint hard enough. lengthy, but the build up is worth it and necessary!

✧ author's note i don't have much to say, but here's to adding more bleach men to my roster. i knew i wanted to write for byakuya because that's my baby daddy, and now i finally have this idea i hope you guys enjoy. support me by reblogging, liking, and commenting your thoughts. i would greatly appreciate it. ♡ MINORS AND BLANK/AGELESS BLOGS - DO NOT INTERACT.

I must make my days do, lazing around in my private chambers as I am bound to a marriage I wanted no parts of. Especially not with Byakuya Kuchiki.

Lord Byakuya, as he prefers me to call him.

Because I am the current and possibly the final head of the L /N Clan, I am forced to complete my duties as such. Those duties entailed me following through with my grandparents final wish: get married and keep our family name alive.

Which I have no issue with fulfilling.

My dreams are filled with having children with a man that loves me. To extend our family and grow old together where our souls will find each other in another life.

However, I hadn’t planned my marriage to be an arrangement that I wasn’t aware of because of an agreement our grandfathers had prior to me being born.

It’s shocking, honestly. More so, ludicrous for them to think this was okay. But I just couldn’t deny my grandfather. Not when his palm was in mine, lacking its warmth that’s usually there due to his near passing.

I remember tears staining my cheeks and a smile gracing his when he made his final request for me.

That was two years ago. Now, I am married. Have been for almost a year and every day I dread my decision.

How could I possibly wed a man as cold as Byakuya Kuchiki? We barely speak. We sleep in separate chambers. The most we see each other is during dinner because it would be ridiculous to have the servants prepare us food at different times. But even so, the silence and tension always remains deafening.

And to make matters worse, we have yet to consummate our marriage.

This is something I cannot possibly do on my own. He may or may not be attracted to me, and I am convinced to assume the latter because he never utters a look in my direction.

It’s shameful how he treats me. The words he spoke to me the night of our ceremony is a constant memory I do my best to forget but cannot.

I’m officially married. Not the way I expected to be, but what other choice do I have? Grandfather has died and I made a promise to him to marry and bear children to keep the L /N Clan everlasting. Even if that meant being forced into marriage with my childhood rival.

As we sit side-by-side next to each other, bowing and thanking all of our guests for their blessings, I feel the coldness radiating off Byakuya. Of course, one of us has to be graceful and fake smiles while greeting everyone, so I am left to the task.

Byakuya? He doesn’t hide how dissatisfied he is with how this night is going.

To an extent, I understand. Forcing to wed after the loss of his wife, Hisana, is not ideal. Despite it being centuries since her soul has passed, I’m almost positive the heartbreak is still present.

Maybe tonight reminds him of her?

“Byakuya—what is the matter? Is everything alright?” I inquired. I turn to face him and await a response.

The squareness of his jawline catches my attention and I think how it was carved by the gods themselves. I’ve known Byakuya since we were both children, and seeing the fine man he has grown into today never ceases to amaze me.

His profile is… beautiful. I’m mesmerized by the softness of his pale complexion and how it contrasts with the darkness of his raven colored locks.

The further I stare at him, the more heat floods underneath my cheeks and my mouth watering at the sight of his beauty.

But when he finally speaks, all of the emotions I’ve felt have completely diminished.

“Do you feel no shame being forced into a marriage where your partner feels nothing for you?”

Since then, I’ve kept my distance from him. I remember the pain that pinged my chest when processing the words that left his mouth. I remember rushing to my chambers after the ceremony and crying until it felt like a million shards of glass were piercing them.

Yes, I feel ashamed. But I never expected Byakuya to be so direct with me. He’s certainly not the young boy I remember growing up with. Where we would make everything into a competition.

Our swordsmanship. Our knowledge. Our abilities. Whatever can be turned into a challenge for us, Byakuya and I competed.

That led him to be a captain of the Gotei Thirteen and twenty-eighth head of the Kuchiki Clan. And me, the twenty-third head of my family. I initially wanted to enter the Shin’ō Academy along with Byakuya, but I chose to stay with my family and oversee our medicine and agriculture.

However, even when he entered the academy, he always made time to see me because we were friends before any juvenile competition we made.

So why can he not see his wrongdoings in our marriage? Could he at least try for the sake of me fulfilling my duties?

All that keeps me company are movements of the servants coming in and out of my chambers, along with the river that flows past my view.

As always, dinner is silent.

Byakuya has returned to the manor after attending his captain duties, and this is the only time of day where I see him. He is stripped from his formal wear and has been dressed in a simple dark blue yukata that has specks of cherry blossoms scattered across the garment.

If I didn’t loathe him so much, I could take my time appreciating how handsome he looks while being in the comfort of his manor. His locks are released from the kenseikan he wears that symbolizes his nobility as the head of the Kuchiki Clan.

I occasionally steal glances at him while he eats, and yes, while I do despise being in this forced marriage just as he does, I can’t help but be captivated by him.

My lady parts wouldn’t allow me to deny the attraction.

As I watch my beloved husband, I think of all the sexual acts I would like for him to do to me. Please me in ways I could only imagine he can do. Make love to me and whisper in my ear how breathtaking I am.

When I look at Byakuya, I think of all the times I’ve spent time with Lady Kyōraku and she tells me how madly in love she is with Captain Kyōraku. How well he treats her, and even with his demands in his new position, they spend much quality time together.

She even graced my ears with a few details about a picnic session they recently had where it led to activities that typically aren't done out in public.

I wonder if my husband will ever be reckless enough to do an act as obscene as that.

Not likely.

I hate quiet, especially while we eat together. What is the purpose if no words will be spoken amongst each other? No eye contact. No going to bed together after we have finished. Why?

Why am I not able to be served dinner in my private chambers? Surely, I can make a request for this going forward.

Or… perhaps there is a different way for me to get him to speak.

I take a sip of my cremè sake before clearing my throat. “How did your day treat you, my lord?”

“It was fine,” he responds, flatly. Should I be shocked that he didn’t lift his chin when speaking to me?

“There is something I would like to discuss with you.”

“It can wait. I’m not up for discussion at the moment.” His dismissive tone has annoyance leaching onto my flesh, and I feel like I am on the verge of exploding.

“Perhaps it cannot. I would like to discuss something with you, my husband.” The authority in my voice grabs his attention and finally, he looks up at me and catches my hardened gaze.

He deeply sighs, sitting down his bowl of rice and chopsticks. “What is it?”

“Maybe we should… begin the process of annulment.”

His face remains calm. Expressionless, like I always remembered. Does he care enough to show a reaction to me asking for a cancellation of our marriage?

This shouldn’t be a difficult decision for him, so why is he taking his time to respond?

The longer I wait, the more his lack of response bothers me. It’s not similar to before, where the quiet was filled by the sounds of us eating and the servants coming in to check on us.

No, it’s the silence where if he does not speak, I will make the decision for him and walk out and permanently leave the manor.

I think of all the conversations I’ve had with Lady Rukia, his younger sister. And Renji, his lieutenant, about how I should be patient with Byaykuya. That, eventually, he will come around and warm up to me being his wife.

But how long?

How long would it take for us to share a chamber? For us to act like we’re in this agreement together? For him to look at me with the same attraction I have for him?

How long?

It possibly couldn’t be more than a year.

This is not the Byakuya Kuchiki I grew up with. No, I wasn’t in his life those five years he was wedded to Hisana due to my own family issues. Maybe I could’ve been there for him and witnessed his change that caused him to be so apathetic.

However, this cold man that sits before me… I don’t know who he is.

“Is there someone else you’re interested in?” He finally speaks, breaking me from my musings.

I draw my brows together, confused at his accusation. “Are you… insinuating that I am having an affair?”

“We’ve been wedded for a year. No acts of intimacy have been done between us. Now suddenly you—”

“Because of you!” My voice roars, interrupting whatever nonsense that he was about to spew.

I refuse to allow him to put the blame on me for the stillness in our marriage. I have tried, time after time, and all I am met with is a man that constantly rejects any type of advances I attempt to provide him.

So, I continue.

“I have given you a year, Byakuya,” I begin, standing over him. He looks up at me and again, his expression remains undetectable. “The day of our ceremony, I have accepted that I will be your lady, and on that night, I was prepared for consummation. But what did you do instead? Humiliate me in front of all our guests with your trivial question!”

My chest heaves an adrenaline I haven’t felt in a while. Maybe even never, however, leave it to Byakuya to rile me up this way.

“If you or anyone thinks I will bear children with a man that looks at me with utter disgust, then you all are sadly mistaken.” Are my last words to him before I rush out the supper room, tears threatening to fall, reminding me of the night we wedded.

I feel like such a fool. Disgrace descends upon me and my mind quickly goes to my grandfather and the words he spoke to me on his deathbed. Be strong, child, and fulfill your duties as the current head of the L /N Clan. Bear beautiful children with Young Byakuya and fall effortlessly in love.

Oh, grandfather. What am I to do? I can no longer stand to be in this marriage. Not like this.

Not with Byakuya.

By this time already, I had returned to my chambers and began preparing for bed. I allowed my emotions to get the best of me tonight, so some sleep will do me good.

But my suggestion of annulment will continue in the morning.

Just as I was moisturizing my body, a knock at the door interrupts my nightly routine and I immediately grow annoyed.

I know it isn’t one of the servants checking on me. They know when I don’t want to be bothered with. So that leaves the man that’s responsible for my current state of mind.

Ignore him, I say to myself. He’ll think I’m asleep and eventually leave. But no. He barges into my chambers, unannounced, and shuts the door behind him.

“Excuse me. I don’t recall giving you permission to en—”

“Do you think this is easy for me?” He asks, paying no mind to my protests. “Being… married to you.”

I turned my back to him and continued with the task I was doing before he interrupted. “Save me the boredom and keep it to yourself. No need to further remind—”

“For a year… I have been… fighting these emotions. These… feelings that have been forming in my chest at the thought of you being my lady.” His admission shocks me… but I remain quiet and stare at him intently through my mirror and allow him to finish. “Do you wish to know how I feel about you, Lady Y/N?”

My chest slowly heaves up and down and I hold eye contact with him. “How?” I breathed.

“You interfere with my routine. Daily… weekly… monthly. Just the thought of you has my mind spiraling.” He moves closer to me with every word he speaks. “A noble. A clan head such as myself, loses all sense of control with just a whiff of your scent. Your jasmine scent that drives me utterly insane. I simply cannot act with honor when I’m around you, so I purposely choose to ignore you.”

“But… why?” I questioned.

“Because you are you, my lady. You may think I don’t keep my eyes on you, but I do. All day… every day. I… watch you sit by the river and simply smile at the sight of nature. From a distance, I hear how kind you are when you speak to others. It’s… enchanting.”

I slowly release a breath and swallow a thick gulp. “So why is that you don’t speak to me? If I’m, as you stated, enchanting?”

“Speaking is not what I wish to do with you when we are alone,” he admits. Arousal rushed between my legs at the true meaning of his statement.

“It is hard for me to believe that you have an attraction toward me, Lord Byakuya.” As if my words triggered him, he takes long strides to close the distance between us.

“Perhaps it’s because you do not look at me the way you look at others. I, too, should be questioning your attraction toward me.”

I stand to meet with him, but fail miserably due his tall frame towering me. Still, I stand firm with my gaze. “Others such as who?”

“Shūhei Hisagi,” he deadpans.

“You’re being ridicu—”

“That smile… Your eyes… The look you give him… you have never looked at me that way before. He personally delivers the newsletter to our manor, which he doesn’t have to, but he does for you.”

“Are you… jealous? Of the small interactions I have with Hisagi a few times throughout the week?”

It is hard for me to believe that the honorable Byakuya Kuchiki himself is getting flared up over a platonic friendship between Hisagi and I.

Sure, there may be a chance he feels more for me than I know, judging by how his cheeks stain a light pink color when he delivers the newsletter.

But in no shape or form do I feel the same way, and I would never stoop as low as stepping out in my marriage. Even if my husband treats me like I am a fly on the wall.

Though, now, as he stands before me, slightly flustered, nostrils flaring, and a pinched expression—Byakuya is in fact—jealous.

I do not know how to feel about this, but I do know it is better than the distance I was getting before.

“Does this,” he grabs my hand to slip between us so I can feel his hardened erection, causing me to suck in a breath, “feel like I hold no attraction to you?”

“Byakuya,” I barely said above a hushed tone.

He presses his forward against mine, whispering, “Everyday… I curse myself for these feelings I have for you, to the point where I attempt to avoid you yet fail horribly because I can’t help but watch you from afar.” His hand gently runs up and down my arm, and this bit of contact burns warmth to my flesh.

“I feel wrong. Felt, wrong for having such feelings for you, knowing my late Hisana has passed away. I thought my heart went along with her illness, however, you returned to my life unexpectedly.”

I lick my lips before asking, “Are you saying you… love me, my lord?”

“I desire you, my lady. Crave you in ways that make me want to act animalistic.” His lips ghost over mine before he falls to my neck and inhales heavily. “I’ve always wanted to know what it is like to have you on my tongue. To hear you beg for me to give you more than what I am giving.”

“My lord… please.”

He shushes me. “Your beauty is beyond words. I have… never seen a rich, deep, golden brown complexion such as yours. You hold yourself with grace, but I know you’re a minx underneath these silk garments.”

He begins trailing faint kisses along my flesh until meeting with my face once more. I stare at him and take advantage of his ash-colored hues that resemble the sky on a cloudy day.

I don’t recall ever being this close in proximity to Byakuya. I’m enthralled by the smoothness of his skin and the color of his lips that reminds me of a thousand cherry blossoms.

I want to kiss him. I, too, also want to know what it feels like to have the taste of him on my tongue. Just—

“May I kiss you, Y/N?” The octave of his voice, slightly lower than usual, breathy with a touch of desperation… it does something to my core.

His cheeks flush red and my eyes widen at the sight of him. It feels like this is a fantasy, a moment I thought I would only see in my dreams. He is completely vulnerable, stipped down to where he forgets the formalities and calls my name. He is like this for me because of me.

When he is like this–I do not loathe him.

“You may.”

Byakuya gently presses his mouth against mine, our lips merely touching as if he is skeptical about what he is doing. He pulls back to look at me and I know desperation is shown on my face. And I know he feels the same.

How he engulfs my arm with his hand, applying immense pressure to show his desire for me tells me so.

My breaths are staggered. I’m thinking, what will he do next? Will he turn around and return to his chambers, regretting this moment ever happened? No. He does not.

He caresses my nose with his, breathing me in before meeting with my lips once more.

This time, he cuffs my face and deepens our kiss. My hands latched onto his wrist to hold him in place because I will not allow him to show any skepticism once again.

Byakuya takes his time exploring my mouth, but a touch of eagerness is shown when his tongue slips inside of me to get more. Heat hums throughout my body and I feel wetness pooling between my thighs due to the lack of under garments I am not wearing.

Is this what it feels like to kiss him? Is it normal for my limbs to grow weak? As if he read my thoughts, he sweeps me off the ground and wraps my legs around his waist. Our heads move side-to-side in unison while we devour each other’s grunts and moans.

We head in the direction to my futon and ever so lightly, he lays me down and pulls away from me.

“Strip for me.” His order is soft but filled with dominance I can’t be anything but submissive to.

I untie my silk robe, slowly until it falls off my shoulders and bares my body. His eyes… where I know Byakuya to be calm and collective during battle, right now a beast rages through him, and I am his prey that he is ready to feast on.

My legs spread, revealing my sex that is moist beyond measure. A growl forms in the pit of Byakuya’s stomach and it spreads chills down my spine.

He palms my breasts while gazing at me and I shudder from his touch. I could believe that this is in fact a dream, but it is not.

No longer than a second later, and he pinches my nipple between his fingers.

“My lord,” I softly cried, arching my back.

“You are art, Y/N.”

“Address me as your lady,” I demanded.

“Apologies, Lady Y/N.” He leans forward to press a quick kiss to my lips. “Is there anything else you would like for me to do?”

“Strip for me as well,” I instructed, teasingly.

His yukata drapes low on his hips and I am met with his slender build. Squared shoulders. A trimmed waist. And an abdomen where I would enjoy rubbing my wetness along that leads to what will bring me pleasure tonight.

He stands to completely remove his garments and my mouth floods at the sight of him. His groin, hard and veiny, drips liquid that I’m yearning to taste.

Byakuya, as expected, is well trimmed, but leaves just enough hair, perfect to my liking.

He’s much larger than I imagined. A size I need time adjusting to, that’s for certain.

“Am I up to your liking?” He quips.

I hum, tugging my bottom lip between my teeth. “Perhaps.”

The smallest chuckle, almost faint, escapes his mouth. “Perhaps…” He mocks, catching onto the lie that I uttered.

He kneels down before me and sucks my lower lip into his mouth while he widens my legs even further to bring pleasure to my cunt. Those slender fingers, so long and delicate, slip inside of me and I mewl at the slight intrusion. He massages my walls as if he is exploring, attempting to familiarize himself with how I pulsate around his fingers.

I break our kiss to moan his name, and my lord takes advantage of the opening to plunge his tongue in the back of my throat and sink deeper into my cunt.

I never expected Byakuya to be well equipped with his fingers this way. Those same fingers that are used for battle are currently being used to bring me to my release.

Soon, his lips find the valley of my breasts where he leaves bruises on my flesh with teeth. I whimper so pathetically, shocking myself at the sound that leaks from me.

He sucks on my nipples greedily, like a starved man that’s hungry for his lover, and this time, I let out a moan of his name.

“Byakuya…”

He looks at me through his lashes and firmly grips my breast. “Remember, my lady. Address me as your lord.”

“I am sorry, my lord. Please… I can no longer wait. I want to come.”

“Where is that fire that was present earlier? Begging?” I clench around his fingers at the sound of him taunting me.

He flickers his digits quicker inside of me, pulling such obscene noises from my cunt that mingles with my moans and his praises in my chambers.

Byakuya, this time, does not kiss me. No, instead, he ogles me and gently holds my chin in place where I am forced to watch him deliver me a release I’ve been waiting a year for.

There was a time where I thought he didn’t have an ounce of attraction to me, and now here he is, pleasing me in a way I haven’t been before.

“Oh, Lord Byakuya… I… I’m about to come. I feel a release coming,” I purred.

“But I have barely touched you, blossom.”

I latched onto his wrist and rolled my hips to meet his fingers thrusting inside of my cunt. “I—I know. I’ve been waiting for this… for so long.”

“You’ve fantasized about me bringing you pleasure?” I nod, causing a small smirk to form on his lips. “Tell me more, Lady Y/N. What else do you want? Would you like my shaft inside your tight cunt?”

“Yes.”

“Tell you how breathtaking you look while being filled with me?”

“Oh, yes. Yes, Lord Byakuya.��

The faintest, most gentle kiss is placed on the side of my mouth and I feel the tension at the bottom of my stomach unraveling.

“Are you prepared to bear my children? To have my come flooding your cunt until it drips out?” He ghosts over my ear. “Will you take me?”

“Bya… kuya…” My orgasm suddenly crept onto me and I’ve created a mess on his hand.

I throw my head back and moan to the gods above. I can’t stop shaking and he continues to pump his fingers inside of me.

For a year I thought this man loathed me, but tonight I am proved otherwise.

Lord Byakuya has described himself as a madman when he is around me, and it is shown when he doesn’t permit me the time to come down from my release before guiding his cock to my entrance.

I look between us, anticipating the moment he enters my body and wondering how I will take him.

He attempts to push himself inside, but is met with interference and clicks his tongue. Frustrated at the constriction of my cunt because his cock is aching to feel my walls.

“I see she is as stubborn as you are,” he taunts.

I slyly smirk at him. “Giving up—Ohh…”

Byakuya does not allow me to finish my retort before giving me one long thrust between my folds to completely stuff me. My brows knits together at the slight intrusion and hint of pain that’s mended by my wetness.

I’m… stretched. How could he fit? He’s so… big. Large. I feel his veins pleasurably grazing me when he slowly begins to pull in and out. My cunt molds around his cock like he’s all she knows and I gasp with every movement.

My thighs are pushed back so he could see all of me, to see how I’m swallowing him whole. He swears underneath his breath and seeing Byakuya so vulnerable like this has me pulsating.

“You… are amazing, my lady. This cunt of yours… It's perfect,” he declares. “For a year you have been keeping this from me?”

“More, my lord. Give me a bit more.”

“So desperate for my come, are you?”

I eagerly nod and grip his forearms to take his pounding. He wastes no time acquiescing to my request, increasing his thrusts to pull such lewd noises from me.

I’m almost embarrassed by the loudness of my dripping sex. I’m practically making a mess on my futon and I’m mortified that the servants will need to replace my sheets.

Again, his mouth and hands are back on my breast, sucking and circling my nipples until they ache. Byakuya alternates between the two to show equal amounts of love and I have never felt so overwhelmed.

He drives into me with so much passion while marking me with his teeth and alleviating the pain with his tongue.

“When I breed you, you will be completely mine, my love. You will be full of me, carrying my child,” he rasps, rutting into me with more force. “How many will you give me?”

I gasped. “As many as you want, Lord Byakuya. Just please… make me come again. I feel it approaching.”

“So come for me, blossom.”

His thrusts are harsher than before. The head of his cock repeatedly presses my sweet spot and I feel the spark of electricity tingling in my lower back. My breasts are still occupied by his mouth, but they move obnoxiously with the rhythm of his poundings.

I cry his name, scream to my lord how wonderful this feels and tears prick the corner of my eyes. His free hand that was on my breast moves to thumb my clit to aid with my near release.

Byakuya moans soon joins mine to tell me how my cunt squeezes his cock, nearly strangling. And if it were to lose circulation, I would be the cause. But does he not feel how he throbs inside of me?

How he hopes to breed me so we will be bound for life?

“You asked me earlier… if I love you. Would you still like to know?”

“Yes, Byakuya. Tell me… do you?”

“I do,” he simply answers. “Since the day I saw you staring at the river and smiling at the water flowing. How could I not love you?” He brushes his lips across mine and lowers his voice. “How could I not love you after having you like this? Having your beautiful body, every dip and curve bare underneath me?”

“Lord Byakuya… I’m coming.”

“And you sound beautiful when my name drips from your lips. Continue calling me your lord until I have filled you with my come.”

Over and over, he rocks into me at a frenzied pace, causing my orgasm to burst out of me. Tears stain my cheeks and arousal prickles my flesh from my overwhelming release. However, Byakuya does not let up until his thrusts are uncoordinated, indicating his own climax.

Coming together as lovers for the first time after our ceremony has me seeing stars in my chambers. His load… it’s heavy. Hot and sticky. It mingles with my own come and creates a mess between us.

Lord Byakuya, too, is a vocal lover. He comes down from his own release and whispers how ethereal I am. How he would never grow tired of pleasing me and filling my cunt.

But it’s the delicacy of him brushing my coils away from my face and placing soft kisses on my cheeks that causes my heart to skip a beat.

An hour has already passed, and we have been basking in each other’s presence. His embrace is comforting. It provides me with a warmth that was well needed to fill the coldness beside me when I slept alone at night for the past year.

“I’m sorry,” he says, breaking the silence.

I know the reason for his apology, but ask anyway. “For what, my lord?”

“For the discomfort I have provided you since our engagement. You didn’t deserve that… Before anything, you were a dear childhood companion of mine and I treated you horribly.”

His kind words move me. I place my palm against his cheek and look up at him. “We can discuss it some more later on. For now, I would like to enjoy your company. Is that okay?”

He kisses the top of my head and pulls me further into his arms. “Of course, my lady… Of course.”

thank you for reading. reblogs, comments, and likes are well appreciated. if you enjoy my work, please be sure to check our my masterlist for more. ෆ

#anime x black!reader #fanfic smut #anime x reader #bleach x black reader #bleach x reader #bleach fanfic #bleach smut #byakuya kuchiki x reader #byakuya kuchiki x black reader #toji x reader #jjk x reader #x black reader #black reader #byakuya smut #anime smut

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mochimooon · 6 months

Text

DTF Only - aot x reader 18+ masterpost and prologue - complete!

Summary: Barely twenty-four hours after getting dumped by your now ex-boyfriend, Colt, your best friends are quick to conspire your next course of action: slutting yourself out on Tinder. Prologue word count: 1k+ Notes: Welcome to the world of online dating, featuring the men of AoT !! This was a project I started back in September, loosely based on my own (and my best friend's) weird encounters with online dating. Lighthearted, smutty, not to be taken seriously, this fic is pure crack. Although it does have a plot, it's not necessary to read every chapter if you just want to skip to your favorite AoT guy (each chapter is linked). Also, all characters (except two) are written to be in their early 30s. Lastly, the headers used don't directly depict what actually happens in the fics. Afab! reader using she/her pronouns Warnings: smut in every chapter (except prologue), explicit content, explicit language, lots of casual sex (more warnings included per chapter), mild Colt-bashing available to read on ao3

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+ !!

Happy Hour — Porco Galliard Out of Towner — Reiner Braun Let's Experiment — Connie Springer Girl Dinner — Jean Kirstein DTF — Zeke Jaeger Tinder Whore — Eren Jaeger Super Like — Levi Ackerman taglist: @moonmalice @daisynik7 @theragethatisdesire @squidalapobre @arlerts-angel @shepnicolo @porples-blog @jeanboyjean @fictional-d-supremacy

“Time to enter the hoe phase.”

Pieck’s eyes light up in Ymir’s direction, and together they turn to you with mischievous grins.

Barely twenty-four hours after getting dumped by your now ex-boyfriend, Colt, your best friends are quick to conspire your next course of action: slutting yourself out on Tinder.

It feels like a movie. Meeting up with your girlfriends on a Saturday night for overpriced margaritas (on them thankfully) to catch up and console you as you process the breakup.

The only difference between you and those heartbroken women on screen is that you don’t know how to feel. You’re not sad, you’re not happy, you’re indifferent.

Three years together you and Colt had settled into a routine. He lived an hour away, but you both put in the effort to see each other. You don’t know when things turned stagnant, only that the spark had fizzled a long time ago. The phone calls and visits became forced, and the sex…

“You’re single now,” Ymir explains, crunching on a tortilla chip. “Got to make up for lost time. Didn’t you say Colt was too stiff in bed?”

Heat blazes beneath your skin. “I never said that.”

Colt was not stiff in bed. He was selfless, ready to please, prioritizing your needs first before he got in his kicks. You liked having sex with him, didn’t need the grandeur to enjoy it—

Ymir and Pieck deadpan in your direction. Without further rebuttal, you fall speechless, and to your friends that’s as good as a confession.

You hate them (you don’t). You hate that they’re right.

Although the sex did the job, it lacked the passion that was once there when you two first started dating a lifetime ago. Eventually you grew a little bored. It became repetitive, lackluster even, that you were only half-satisfied by the end of each session. To feed your sexual appetite, you resorted to your vibrator more and more, a toy that you had initially purchased for you and Colt to use together.

“Anyways…” Ymir drawls. “He’s history and so is the vanilla sex. Now, you can let your inner sex fiend out.”

You roll your eyes “You mistake me for someone else.”

Ymir snorts, leveling you with a knowing look. “Yeah right. You weren’t a Puritan before you met Colt. If online dating was more of a thing back in our twenties, you would have been kicking and slipping every night of the week, more than you already were.”

Your skin heats up again, burning the tips of your ears. Sure, in your twenties, you were what some would call ‘floozy’ in nature back then. In your defense, you were a university student, out on your own, and you were definitely not the only person partaking in hookup culture. Now, at thirty, with how normalized it is, you know you’re not the last one either. If anything, being in a relationship these days is more of an anomaly.

“Not judging you for your relationship by the way,” Pieck says as a buffer. “Colt’s a nice guy, but he did water you down, you stopped coming out—”

You turn to her. “It’s because—”

“He’s a lightweight, yeah, yeah,” Ymir supplies, bored. “You were too much for him. You’re fun, and Colt?” Ymir’s dark eyes go into orbit. “—snooze.”

As much as you’d like to defend your ex-boyfriend’s honor, your mind draws a blank.

“His loss.” Pieck licks the rim of her margarita glass.

Ymir crunches on another chip, smiling wryly. “Back to my genius idea: Tinder. You’ll have so many options now. You don’t need to find your next boyfriend on it, just meet new people and be down to fuck only."

She says it so simply, but you can’t help feeling like there’s a catch.

“There’s no better place to explore sexual freedom than on Tinder,” Pieck says. “Scope out the market, see what you’ve been missing out on.”

You take a hearty sip of the margarita, lip curling. “I don’t even know how to date anymore.”

Pieck tuts. “No one does. There’s no formula either. Tinder requires an open mind, if you overthink it, then you’re not doing it right.”

“It’s about getting to know yourself better while also getting laid. It’s a win-win,” Ymir says. “There’s nothing for you to lose, only gain.”

You raise a brow. “Doesn’t that seem…wrong? We just broke up.”

Pieck blinks, lowering her margarita. “Do you think Colt’s just sulking around?”

You shake your head. “No, that’s not what I mean. He can go on dates, I guess. It’s just that it feels so new and so soon.”

As you hear yourself, you realize how unsure you sound. Since Colt dumped you, it’s pointless to expect that he’d waste any time before diving back into the dating pool. If that’s what he’s doing, you’re not bothered by it. And the guilt you expect to feel for considering an idea like online dating is nowhere to be seen either.

Perhaps it’s your way of making sense of why you feel so…nonchalant about the whole thing. Is there a politically or morally correct way to behave after a break-up?

“Of course not!” Ymir says with a lighthearted scoff. “The second you become a free agent, you can do whatever and whoever you want. Emphasis on the ‘free’ part.”

She’s right, you suppose.

Ymir takes your brief silence to further argue her idea. “The whole point is to have fun, no strings. If you’re not going to wallow, then get out there and be a hoodrat."

Pieck laughs, and you feel the mood lighten.

It’s not a bad idea. You’re still not sure how to process the break-up. You’re not hurt, but you are in this limbo of where to go from here. Carry on like normal? Cry? Neither align with your state of mind.

You’re not hard to convince, reaching for your phone and downloading the app. “Let’s see what’s up.”

A look passes between your friends that could only be described as impish. You bite back the urge to roll your eyes and set up your profile.

After Pieck and Ymir guide you on what to add to your bio, what you’re looking for, help you pick out the best selfies etc., the true fun begins.

In the beginning it’s awkward, reading and checking a person’s pictures and deem whether he you want to talk to them. But it doesn’t take long for you to ease into it.

The coaxing and the margarita might have played roles, but after a few profiles, it becomes an addiction.

Swiping one after another, skimming through varying profiles (a lot of them have their height included), questionable choices of selfies (many shirtless at the gym), it’s all a rush that the three of you had far too much fun crowding over your phone that night.

“Why does he have a screenshot of his credit score?” Pieck balks.

“No fucking way, that guy’s in a diaper?” Ymir’s eyes go wide. “This one says he and his wife want to be a throuple.” You swipe left.

At some point, you do swipe right on a couple of profiles, purely based on their looks, hardly giving their bios a proper onceover.

At the end of the night, you’re past the point of tipsy, tired, but pleased to have had a fun night with your best friends. As you doze off in bed that night, your phone lights up with several new notifications on your nightstand.

#aot x reader #aot fanfiction #levi ackerman x reader #attack on titan #porco galliard x reader #zeke jaeger x reader #reiner braun x reader #connie springer x reader #jean kirstein x reader #eren jaeger x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #eren yeager x reader #zeke yeager x reader #aot smut #mochi-writings #dtf only series

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theywhowriteandknowthings · 4 months

Note

frankie is a long time friend of a friend/runs in the same circles as you, and you both have a hate boner for one another. it all comes to a head bc he's the only one in the group chat who answers your call for aid when your [insert some busted appliance/plumbing fixture] and you're going to either fight, fuck or fumble this night.

WHAT DO YOU CHOOSE.

You ask, ye shall recieve. Thank you "nonnie" ;)

This blog is a 18+ space, Minors, do not engage. If you are under the age of 18 you are not welcome here. Your reading and consumption of my work is your responsibility but I will endeavour to mitigate any discomfort for you, the reader, as possible. Once again, this is a 18+ space and minors should not interact. Specific warnings: Enemies to Lovers, Angst, alcohol consumption, drug addiction, coke addiction, Frankie being mean/an asshole, Whiny Frankie Supremacy, weed smoking (medicinal), Ken Burns?, Country Music?, pining, angst, M!Masturbation, sub!Frankie.

Thank you @angelofsmalldeath-codeine for beta-ing this real quick. Word count: 2.3k

Frankie Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3

Frankie pops his first beer of the night as he starts the next episode of the Ken Burns ‘Country Music’ documentary. He started it out of sheer lack of something better to do a few nights back, but now he’s hooked. He’s ready to settle in for the night, rolling a joint as a new message in the group chat comes in.

He checks it, only to see its you.

He locks his phone and turns it over; no way is he entertaining your bullshit tonight.

~*~

You sit there for what seems like forever, not a soul answering your cry for help in the group chat. You know it’s Friday night, you know everyone is likely to have plans, but the way water has flooded your kitchen is no joke.

So much for the joys of home ownership.

You lament as you wish there was a super contractually obliged to fix this mess. But it’s a week away from your next paycheque and you cannot afford to call in an emergency plumber. You’re about to give in and get your credit card out when a message comes through.

~*~

The credits roll at the end of the documentary and Frankie hums in approval, he realises he’s barely touched his beer, and his joint is similarly untouched, long gone out. He’s ready to put the next episode on and re-light as his modest buzz settles him into the recliner. Since quitting coke he’s found weed to be a welcome mellow fix that never tempts him too far but lets him mute the cravings otherwise. It has meant he’s gained a few pounds from all the munchies, but he takes that as a win. He was getting too skinny and working out is near impossible when so under-fuelled.

Absently he checks his phone again and his stomach drops.

No-one has answered your call for help, it’s been almost two hours. He shouldn’t care, the two of you butt heads on everything, you’re the Lex Luthor to his Superman. He hates you, at least, that’s what he tells himself. You challenge him in a way the other guys don’t. You don’t take his bullshit.

He swipes the message across to reveal the “Seen” tab, and his stomach drops. Everyone in the group chat has seen it, Alyssa, Barry, Benny, Santi, Will… the list goes on. There’s a pang of guilt in his gut as he realises just how desperate you must be right now.

He grumbles as he turns off the TV and snaps his lighter shut, putting his ashtray and joint aside. He’ll be damned if he leaves you hanging like this, no matter how much he claims to hate you.

~*~

You pace your hallway, waiting for the bane of your existence to arrive. You’re trying to put on a brave face, trying to ignore the coil in your gut. You play it off as anxiety, but you know it’s more than that.

You’re nervous because as much as you try and hate Frankie, he always gets under your skin. You’re always left wondering what his scruff would feel like on your skin, grazing your jaw, your neck. You hate Francisco Morales, but only as much as you secretly find him hotter than the sun.

He’s not a bad guy, you know he’s struggled with addiction, you know he and the guys saw some shit in the military. But there’s a rudeness reserved only for you when it came to social gatherings and interactions in the group chat.

You’d initially put it down to you being a new addition to the group – by way of Santi – after you two hit it off at a quiz night last year. But in that year, he has only seemed to close you off more and more. You’re almost at the point of looking for a new group of friends, if you’re completely honest with yourself. And you resent him for it.

You’re jolted from your thoughts as a fist pounding on your front door signals his arrival.

I have a doorbell asshole.

You grumble inwardly, but you tell yourself to play nice, Frankie’s doing you a favour here.

“Coming!”

You pause at the door, not wanting to seem too eager as you feel a nervous flutter in your stomach. You take a deep breath and swing it open to reveal Frankie in all his glory. Your chest constricts as you feel the inevitable bloom of desire in your core.

He’s wearing a floral pink and white Hawaiian shirt with a dark tank underneath that stretches across his soft belly. His sinful calves are on display under his tan cargo shorts and you try not to ogle him further as you welcome him into your home.

“Hey, thanks for doing this,” you start as he steps over the threshold, eyeing up your house with a methodical gaze, “Look, I know we’re not-,”

“Don’t worry about it, just show me where the sink is.”

He cuts you off, not looking at you as he speaks, and you bristle at his tone. It’s like he’s speaking down to a child, scolding you no less.

“This way,” you snap as you lead him into the kitchen and gesture at the sink, the cabinets below open ready for him. You feel his gaze on you. It makes you squirm, but you do your best to ignore the pooling of arousal in your panties.

“You turn the water off?” Frankie asks as he notices the multiple bath towels on the floor, sodden in your failed attempt to try and dry the place out. You’re just glad the kitchen is tiled.

“Yup.”

“Good,” he says almost to himself as he strips off his shirt, throwing it onto a countertop before getting on his knees. You prop yourself against the counter and wait, trying very hard not to stare as he gets on his back. He bends his knees to brace himself as he grabs the adjustable wrench that you’d been battling the U-bend with for the last hour. You try not to imagine how he’d look similarly stretched out on your sheets upstairs.

“Ok so good news, it’s not the U-bend,” Frankie says with a huff as he pops the entire faucet unit up and out of the basin, he rolls up onto his feet. You’re a little annoyed that he was able to determine the issue in minutes after you had spent over an hour googling and trying to fix it yourself.

“Oh?”

You are genuinely curious, so you push off from the counter to see what Frankie’s doing. He holds up the underside of the faucet, showing you a broken rubber ring sat at the neck of the mechanism. His shoulder brushes yours and you feel the fizzle of heat under your skin. Your heart flutters and you think he’s going to move away at the contact, but he seems only to lean in further.

He smells good. A faint hint of weed, which you know he has a prescription for, and his cologne, earthy and rich. It blends together into a smell you know by heart, something so uniquely Frankie, it makes you salivate. You hate how much you want a man who seemingly thinks so little of you.

“This happened to me last month,” he explains as he brings the offending washer into your eyeline, “Damn contractors used cheap fittings so they’re all going, Santi’s went last week.”

“So, I need a new tap? It’s that simple?” You groan in frustration, you’d been ready to spend hundreds of dollars to get this fixed, and here’s Frankie swooping in to save the day.

“Yup, but you’re not likely to get anything now,” Frankie looks at his phone, it’s way too late to be getting something decent. His eyes flick up to meet yours and you see his pupils dilate. There’s something in his deep, sinfully dark eyes that makes you wonder if you’ve been wrong about his feelings towards you all this time. But you avert your gaze, you’re probably just reading into things too heavily.

“Yeah, shit,” you sigh, “At least I’ve got bottled water, so I won’t die of thirst.”

“I can come by tomorrow to pick up and fit a new one if you want?”

The offer is out of Frankie’s mouth before he can stop it, his good nature tumbling out in an unusual display of kindness towards you. You furrow your brow, shocked by the sudden good will from him. It makes you nervous.

“Why’re you being nice to me all of a sudden?” You scoff, something about Frankie being so cold to you for the last year, only to play nice when you’re in distress makes your stomach turn. Like he’s trying to take advantage – or worse – pitying you.

“You needed help and no-one else was responding so I thought it was the right thing to do.”

He grumbles bitterly as he turns his back to you grabbing his shirt from the counter and hastily pulling it on as he turns to leave.

“You could have just left me hanging,” you snap, “What’s different today? Is it so you can lord this over me? Saving the poor little damsel in distress, another tool with which you can ridicule me with?”

“Ridicule you?” Frankie snaps, turning to face you, his face pained as if you’d struck him with a physical blow.

“Don’t play dumb,” you growl as you square up to him, “I hear the snide comments you make about me when we’re out with the others. Desperate this, lonely that.”

Frankie winces, he remembers exactly what you’re talking about now. That night months ago at a club in Orlando. You were dancing with someone you’d met at the bar, and he’d gotten jealous. He brushed it off to Will and Alyssa, going on the offensive instead of letting slip that he’d have done anything for it to be him you were grinding against. He just didn’t know you’d heard him as you went to get another drink.

“That was one time,” he growls but it’s a weak rebuttal and he knows it, “I was in a bad place.”

You know that; you know he was only a few months sober. He wasn’t in a good place when he first met you. But that’s no excuse to continue to treat you like he has ever since.

“Sure, but ever since you’ve looked at me like I don’t belong,” you hold his gaze, even as your eyes start to fill with tears, “Always dismissing my comments, rolling your eyes if I dare speak up in your presence, it gets tiring Frank- Francisco. You don’t have to like me, but they’re my friends too, don’t make me lose them just because you can’t stand me.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel that way I swear.”

“Yeah well, save it,” you say, pointing to the door, “I don’t need you to save me Francisco, and I sure as hell don’t need your pity. Get out of my house.”

“That’s not how it is, I promise,” he pleads but you’re not looking at him now, your cheeks are hot with embarrassment and you’re trying not to say something you’ll regret.

“Please, just leave,” you snap as you feel tears welling in your eyes.

“Yeah, ok.”

Frankie sighs as he runs his fingers through his hair, he brushes past you, and you hear a soft “I’m sorry.” As the door clicks shut behind him.

You feel your body tremble with rage as you find yourself unable to process the whole interaction. You pull out your phone and message the group chat.

You: Crisis averted.

You think you should add that it was Frankie who helped, but you’re feeling petty. All he did was show you the problem, he didn’t actually fix anything.

If anything he made things so much worse.

~*~

Frankie slumps back down in his recliner but he doesn’t turn the TV back on. Instead, he sits in silence and broods. He re-reads your message to the group chat and scowls. He has no right to be mad, not really, he knows that. But he really wishes he’d dealt with the situation better.

He looks down to his tented shorts and curses himself, the moment he showed you the faucet you were so close to him. The moment your arms touched he felt the rush of desire he suppresses every time he sees you. Now he’s worried he’s fucked it up completely. He can still smell you, the scent your bodywash he’s committed to memory now clings to his skin.

He forces himself upstairs and into the shower, running it ice cold, just to try and make his erection go away. But it doesn’t help. He’s painfully hard as he tries to think of anything else.

All he can think of is the way your skin felt against his, the way you called him Francisco. It was meant to spurn him, but he loved it. The way his name rolled off your tongue with derision. It’s all he can think of as he turns on the hot water and grips his cock. He pumps himself slowly as he feels the hot burn in his gut, he’s already so fucking close.

“Fuck,” he groans under the hot stream, “I’m sorry.”

He growls as he fucks himself harder to the thought of you putting him in his place. He’s never considered himself a sub, but it’s all he can think of now. He’s whimpering as he fucks his fist faster and faster at the memory of you chewing him out. He deserved it, and that makes it all the sweeter.

He wants you to make him suffer. Atone.

He comes with a whine as his spend splatters against the tiles and slowly washes away down the drain. He pants desperately for some time before washing himself off. He heads back downstairs to re-light his joint and watch another episode of his documentary. On a need-fuelled whim he texts you.

Frankie: If you want me to fix your sink, let me know, I’m free all day.

Frankie Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3

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aestrayla · 1 year

Text

driving you crazy ft. mammon

summary: you make a bet with a certain white-haired demon to see who can last the longest without touching the other. let's see how long you can last. ft. mammon x f!reader

cw: 18+ SMUT and sexual themes. minors and ageless blogs DO NOT interact.

word count: 1.8k

a/n: this was my first time writing smut LOL. i had to stop myself from cringing while writing this but my fingers just kept typing away.. anyways enjoy!

You had made a bet with Mammon to see who could last the longest without any physical touch, and of course, he agreed to it. Making bets was his playing field after all and after mentioning the little reward you'd offer if he won... he was not going to lose. This was mere child's play for him.

Now of course you had to play dirty to win. The odds that he would win were more or less in his favour. Here and there you would try and tease him, wearing short little skirts and staring at him with your pretty eyes. He knew when you made that stupid little sultry look with your eyes it could struck any guy dumb. He knew this, because he experienced it firsthand and still remembers the day you laughed at him after leaving him dumbfound.

Your teasing was extremely fun on his part though. Mammon could honestly fuck you whenever he pleased but being able to watch you play this silly little game and planning your next "big move" was far too entertaining for him. It was like watching a child learn to walk, seeing how pouty you'd get after the game dragged from hours into days.

The lack of physical touch was burning your insides. How was he able to handle this so well? It was surprising how good his restraint was when he, at the same time, has terrible impulses of blowing thousands of grimm within seconds.

As the days dragged on, it got quite obvious to the others that you two were up to something ridiculous once again and Lucifer was starting to get quite fed up of the back and forth teasing you two would do. "Guys just- get a room... Please," he would say.

You were both shooed away by everyone, making it into Mammon's room. "Can't you just let me win already?" you pleaded, as you plopped onto his bed, lying onto your stomach. Mammon watched as his gaze followed your figure, until he couldn't take his eyes off of something.

As you landed on the bed, your night gown slightly lifted at your waist, revealing a pretty lingerie set you had on underneath. Thoughts were swirling around his head. He had only seen you in lingerie once, on his birthday. This was no special occasion but you definitely had his heart racing and his mind pacing.

"Did you hear me?"

"I-I... U-um... Yeah I uh..." he stuttered. You got off of your stomach to rest your back on the headboard. He clears his throat. "Let ya win?" He makes his way to the edge of the bed and takes a seat. "I didn't play this lil' game of yours just to let ya win, princess."

To be honest you were needy, really needy at this point. You've been craving him the entire week but you just had to play it cool and you were starting to get really frustrated. You pouted at his words.

"Hm? What's that look on ya face?" he questioned.

Although you were desperate, you still didn't want to lose to the likes of him. Your brows furrowed as you pleaded him with your eyes, your glossy lips pouting.

"Ah, now ya makin' me feel bad! How could I say no to your pretty little face?" He leaned back into the bed, his arms holding him up. "Well, if ya want me so bad, then go ahead princess. I'm all yours."

He had the stupidest smile plastered to his face. You frowned. It was obvious he wasn't gonna let you win. When he wanted something, he got it- no matter the cost.

"Just admit ya lost and I'll give ya whatcha want."

Easier said than done. You were a petty little brat but you were craving him so bad, you needed him right now and all this chatter was getting you all hot and bothered. "Mammon..." you whined, "Please..."

He sighed. "A bets a bet. If I'm not gonna lose, and you're not gonna lose... then I guess we're waitin' another week," he shrugged as he got up from the bed. You tugged at his shirt before he could fully stand. "Hm?" He paused as he turned to face you. As you stared down in defeat, you could feel him staring back at you with the biggest smirk. "Is this your way of sayin' ya lost to me?"

"W-whatever... just- just tell me what you want," you mutter.

The reward you offered for winning, was that the winner could do whatever they wanted with the loser, pretty simple.

"Get ridda the dress, I wanna see how pretty ya dressed for me."

He takes your place, resting his back against the headboard while you remove the silk gown. He admires you for a moment, the intricate lace hugging the curves and folds of your body beautifully. He's always amazed at how he managed to score you. Of all demons, you chose him and he could never be happier.

He motioned for you to sit on his lap and you do so. Settled over him, you can feel a hard bulge beneath you. You look up at him and meet with his deep blue eyes. "Well, whaddya waitin' for, princess? Ride me." You both frantically toss your under garments away into oblivion.

Once again, you're settled above him. You gulp as you stare down at his growing member, already flowing with pre-cum. You use your hand to guide him to your entrance while your other hand rests on his chest for support. He never fails to surprise you with his size and there was no way you could ever get used to it.

You slowly lower yourself down, feeling your walls stretch around him. You groaned. You weren't even halfway down and you were already having difficulty taking him in. He watched you carefully as you attempted to lower yourself, his dick twitching from the lack of friction. "Fuck, y/n... ya actin' like ya ain't take my dick before," he grumbles.

"I'm sorry you're just... so damn big..." you muttered. He brought his hands to your hips to help guide you down and once you made it all the way down you took a moment to adjust. You slowly started to raise your hips to bounce on him, pressing your hands against his bare chest to hold yourself up. He watched as you rode him, scrunched brows, half-lidded eyes, mouth agape. You were so damn pretty.

You started to pick up the pace, earning a few groans and grunts from him. His hands found their way to your hips, slamming you down while he bucked his hips up into you. Your gasps and moans were music to his ears. "Mammon... Mammon I..." You were starting to come undone and felt a tightening knot in your stomach. You were going to reach your high soon. "Fuck... fuck y/n..." he groaned, "You're so... you're so damn slow!"

You sharply gasped when he grabbed you by your wrists and threw you onto your back. He was now hovering over you. The look he had in his eyes looked as if he was going to devour you, whole. He started to slam his hips into you mercilessly as if some kind of monster had taken control. Your moans grew louder and much more whiney as he rammed into you, over and over again.

"Do ya know how fuckin' crazy ya drove me this entire week?" he breathed. You could feel him smile beside your ear. "I woulda fucked the shit outta ya first day if I didn't hafta put up with ya lil' game."

The only response that left your mouth were your stupid little whimpers and moans of his name.

"You're gonna make up for all the time ya wasted." His pace only got faster, his tip hitting that same sensitive spot again and again. You wanted to tug and pull at his soft white hair, but your wrists were in restraint by his large hands. "Mammon... I can't..." you whimpered.

"Can't what?" he smirked.

"I... I can't take it... ‘s too much..." Your words only made him go faster and it was pulling your insides into knots and twists. "Well I'm sorry princess, but the winner gets to do whatever to the loser, right?" he grinned.

He was abnormally faster than usual today, but it was because of how much he was dying to fuck you. Just because he could restrain himself, did not mean that he didn't wanna fuck you dumb. If anything, the game made him even more hungry for you.

Your fucked-out face had him smiling stupidly as he rammed into you. "Mammon I'm... I'm gonna..." you mumbled.

"Hm? Whaddya gonna do?"

"I'm gonna cum!" you whined.

"Already? But we've only just started princess," he teased, as he placed a sloppy kiss onto your lips. You were seriously about to finish, especially at the pace he was going at.

"Please... let me cum. I can't take it anymore!" you begged.

You looked so good right now. Brows furrowed while your eyes were rolled back, tongue slightly out. "Fuck you're so pretty... do ya hafta finish right now?" he groaned.

You were a moaning mess and it was a struggle to even speak right now. He removed his hands from your wrists and found purchase of your hips. His thrusts were starting to get sloppy and he was also close to finishing.

"Fine," he huffed, "You can cum."

As if on command, you came undone almost instantly while grabbing ahold of his soft hair. The tightening of your walls around him pushed him over the edge and he released into you. "Fuck..." he groaned as he filled up your insides with his hot seed. He continued to thrust into you, not allowing a drop to be wasted.

He started to slow down his pace, and he finally pulled out of you. You smiled as he looked down at you, you were completely worn out. He leaned down to place a soft, but sweet kiss to your lips.

"You happy now baby?" you asked, while wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Mhm, really happy," he smiled.

You lean in for a second kiss and as he pulls away, you notice his smile turn into a devilish smirk. You frown, confused at what his face is for.

"Mkay now turn around, we goin' for round two baby!"

#mammon x reader #mammon x mc #mammon smut #mammon x you #the great mammon #obey me #obey me mammon #mammon obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me hcs #obey me imagines #obey me smut #obey me fanfic #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me x you #went too crazy on the tags LOL

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lillithhearts · 2 months

Note

heya!! i have an idea brewing and i rly enjoy your blog so I thought I’d come request from you c:

vox x fem!s/o who was a hollywood actress when she was alive? he initially takes interest in knowing her from a career perspective but it turns into something more 🤭

thank you if you take my rq! 🙏☺️

Vox x Reader˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

I actually love this idea!! Sorry for the lack of fics today I wanted to get some done but I had a horrible day I'm really sorry :((

Reader is Female!

Depending on the time frames he might've even seen some of the movies you were in! Since he died in the 1950s and his view on you was always positive; you were an amazing actress, you seemed sweet and cooperative. So he was shocked when you ended up in Hell and then also agreed to work with him!

He takes very good care of you when you worked with him, brought you to expensive restaurants saying it's "for business talk" buying you flowers and things you generally liked because "he saw it on the way over" so you never went an interaction without him giving you something, it eventually evolved into more personal gifts; necklaces, dresses, shoes, makeup. You name it he buys it to the point you finally decide to ask him on a date to which he pouts before happily agreeing, he was upset at himself for not asking you first; be a gentleman and ask you out proper. He didn't disappoint for a first date either, fanciest places; done up to the nines, holding up doors, pulling out chairs hell! He'd even ruin his suit to put it over a puddle for you so you don't ruin your new good shoes. His hand always on the small of your back as you held onto his arm; talking about whatever you both wanted at that time.

His voice was gentle, compassionate and warm; his gaze on you soft and at ease; his worries and the stresses of his day gone with your sweet melodic voice swirling around him, your sweet laughs and the small snorts you quickly apologize for as he waves his hand; a cheeky cheesy smile on his screen as he tells you how adorable you are, his clawed hand holding your cheek looking at you smiling up at him. After a few dates he politely asks you back to his place if you agree he's quietly jumping around, kicking his feet and giggling like a highschool girl in love, he opens the door for you and invites you up; he never brought in alcohol into the dates, wanting fully sober you as he got to know you; he sat you down on the couch and got everything ready, asking you to pick your favorite movie or show; his arms wrapping around your body as if you were a glass doll like any amount of pressure would shatter your delicate body into pieces; half the time he wasnt focusing on the movie or show instead looking you, his sweet girl in his arms giggling and ranting on about the thing playing.

You both would eventually fall asleep in an uncomfortable position on the couch, your body laying between his legs; resting your head on his chest, Vox's hands wrapped around you; tightly holding you against him as if he let go you'd fade away from him. The next morning he didn't want to get up, just look at you and ramble about weird, insignificant things as you laughed And joked, your laughs vibrating against his chest while you laid still on top of his chest, he time seemed to stop when he was with you, his little star; his movie girl.

Author's note : I? AAAAAA I hope this is up to par- I'm going through a rough patch of hating everything I make😭😭

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #vox x reader #vox hazbin hotel

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jupitercomet · 7 months

Text

The Boogeyman

summary - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw was ruthless, a stone cold killer both in and outside of the ring—with the belts and trophies to prove it. When a miscalculation results in a target being put on the back of his trainer's daughter, Bradley finds himself facing responsibility he never signed up for. You're a whole new challenge. And Bradley doesn't think you're one he can fight his way out of.

warnings - DARK THEMES, boxer au, language, Bradley is 6′6″ because I said so, brief mentions of blood, stalking, smoking, descriptions of scars, mentions of nightmares, no use of y/n

this blog is 18+, minors please do not interact

word count - 4.5k

there's not a whole lot of edits on this one so sorry about that, but later chapters will have more significant changes - bugs

monsters in the dark masterlist

“That’s it?” Adler’s eye twitches incredulously, his hands gesturing to the photos on the table. “All of this is happening because of a fucking jacket? Jesus, Rooster, when’s the last time you were nice to someone in public?”

Bradley bites his tongue, knowing Adler probably doesn’t want him to answer that. If he were to answer, he’d say that he wasn’t even that nice to you. That the picture makes it look way worse than it actually was. And that, really, none of this is his fault because, if Adler had heard the things Razor was saying about Nat, he would have punched him too.

But Bradley doesn’t say any of that, he just glares wordlessly while Adler scolds him like a child.

“Dad, would you leave him alone?” You seem to have gained some confidence in the time your father was chewing him out, shifting in Natasha’s embrace to get him to notice you.

“Leave him— Leave him alone?” Adler sputters, almost more angry at the fact that you don’t want him to be angry. “I don’t think you understand the severity of the situation we’re in right now.”

“I do understand, dad. But—”

Bradley raises his eyebrows in disinterest. “It’s Razor, Coach. You know he isn’t gonna do shit.”

“Of course I know Razor isn’t gonna do shit. You think I don’t know that?!” Adler’s on him again, looking about a second away from popping a vein before he takes a breath. At Bradley’s expression—or lack there of—Adler lets out an exasperated laugh. “God, you have no idea, do you? Look at this, Rooster,” he gestures towards the photographs on his desk, “you think Razor is smart enough to do any of this by himself.”

Bradley looks at the photos again. How they’re taken over multiple days, at multiple times of day, with a quality that doesn’t look like someone’s iPhone camera. Unless Razor was living out of his car and watching you for almost every second—and was way smarter than anyone gave him credit for—it might have been his idea, but it certainly wasn’t his execution.

Bradley looks back up at Adler, who seems to have calmed down slightly, but the older man still wears a grave look on his face.

“It’s not Razor that I’m fucking worried about.”

Had Bradley known that that conversation would lead to an outrageous amount of skirts being moved into his spare room’s closet, he would have fled the fucking country.

“Oh my gosh, you have fish? Dad, look, he has fish!”

“I see ‘em, kid. Would you go help Nat with the rest of your stuff?”

Bradley waits until your voice becomes distant down the hall, before he turns to Alder with a glare. “Remind me again why you’re making me her fucking babysitter?”

Like they’ve had this conversation a million times—and they have—Adler meets his glower with a dead expression. “Because you messed around with someone you shouldn’t have, and she refuses to stay with me because she doesn’t want to rope her mom into this, and if anything happens to my daughter—which, again, is because you decided you wanted to try and debunk evolution with your ape brain—I will stick Reaper on your ass so fast.”

“What is he? Your fucking dog?” Bradley scoffs lightly, which Adler matches with the single raise of a brow.

The two halt their conversation as you and Natasha each come in with a box, chatting quietly as you walk to the spare room that’s now serving as your bedroom. Adler smiles at you briefly. Bradley spares you a small nod of acknowledgement. They wait for the door to close.

“How. Long?” Bradley grits quietly.

“Until I don’t have to worry about her being used as some kind of leverage against you,” Adler says flatly, matching his volume. “Maybe it’ll teach you some impulse control.”

The door opens again and the two men stand awkwardly in the living room, silent until you and Natasha are far enough down the hall again.

“What if I say no?” Bradley challenges, crossing his arms in defiance.

“Then I’ll make sure that you never fight a good fight again in your life,” Adler narrows his eyes, the threat coming out in a tone that promises he means the threat. “I hear that Hangman’s coming back and he’s just as good as you. I’m sure he’d be happy to take all your fights.”

Bradley glares at him, but says nothing. He could argue that Maverick would never let that happen, but both men know that’s not true. Bradley could be the best boxer in the world—and, really, he is—but to Maverick, he’d always be expendable. And clearly, it seems, he’s expendable to Adler too.

“Look,” Adler drops his coach persona for a moment, letting out a sigh as he wipes a tired hand over his face. He looks older suddenly, aged. “I get that you don’t want this, I’m not exactly thrilled about it either. But you’re a good man, Bradley. And I trust you. You’re smart, and you know what to look for in dangerous situations. I just feel better knowing she has someone like you looking out for her. She’s been through enough as it is.”

Bradley’s brows furrow and he wants to ask Adler what exactly he means by that, but you and Natasha re enter his apartment with, what looks to be, the last load of your stuff. Natasha bumps her hip into him purposefully as you two walk past and Bradley suppresses an eye roll.

“Thanks for helping,” she says sarcastically.

He grunts. “You're welcome.”

“Yeah, thank you!” You smile at him genuinely. “Your place is really nice.”

Bradley can’t tell if you’re doing this on purpose or if you’re just stupid. Because it’s pretty obvious that every other person in the room—for one reason or another—isn’t exactly jumping for joy about this new living arrangement. And it’s even more obvious that Natasha was being entirely passive aggressive, but you seem completely sincere.

Bradley opts to give another nod instead of responding, though you don’t seem offended. Too sweet for your own good.

“Is that everything?” You wouldn’t be standing in Bradley’s living room if it wasn’t, but Adler asks anyway.

“Yep!” You lift the box in your hands slightly. “These are the last ones.”

Adler’s eyes flit over the box. “And you’re sure you have everything you need?”

“She does. And if she doesn’t, she can just ask Rooster.” Natasha answers for you.

Bradley wants to furrow his brows in protest, but he stops himself. With the amount of stuff you’d moved in, he doubts you’ll need anything. Bradley spares a glance at you, to see you already smiling at him, and he looks away quickly.

“Alright then, Rooster, you and I will talk to Mav about all this tomorrow. I doubt he wants to get the cops involved,” Adler sniffs. “We’ll… regroup after, I guess.”

Bradley clears his throat. “You’re leaving?”

Again, it’s Natasha who opens her mouth, looking at Bradley with a shit-eating grin and he can already tell what she’s thinking.

Natasha and Callie had been attempting to set him up for months now, after he complained once about the groupies always waiting for him after a fight. After that it was ring girls, or bar tenders, or friends of friends. He weaseled his way out of it every time, so he’s sure Natasha is loving this. Why she thinks trying to play matchmaker for him and his trainer’s daughter is a good idea is beyond him, though.

“We wouldn’t want to intrude on dinner.”

Bradley genuinely doesn’t know how he’s stayed friends with this woman for so long.

“Oh, I can make pasta?” You offer.

“No, that’s fine,” Natasha raises her eyebrows at him like she’s daring him to disagree. “Rooster can make something.”

He knows there’s a part of her that’s still mad about how he handled things with Razor, especially now that it’s resulted in a threat to your safety. And Bradley hadn’t ever actually apologized yet for doing the exact opposite of what Natasha asked him to, so he can imagine that forcing him into the role of “welcoming host” is giving her some sick sense of justice. He doesn’t want to give her the satisfaction though, so he just nods, staying quiet until both Adler and Natasha leave.

“Are you sure? It’s really no trouble if I make something,” you turn to him almost as soon as the lock has clicked in place. “I won’t even tell Natasha, I promise.” You hold your pinky out, though Bradley promptly chooses to ignore it.

“It’s fine, toots,” Bradley shakes his head, reaching for his phone to order something off of a food delivery app before thinking better of it and instead grabbing his car keys. “You like burgers?”

Knockouts was an establishment that felt like it had been around for almost as long as Bradley had. It was one of those “blink and you miss it” kind of buildings, having the misfortune of being placed next to a significantly nicer looking Denny’s. Freddie Kasinski, Knockouts owner, would be the first to remind anyone that “Knockouts was here first. And you don’t wanna eat any of that corporate bullshit. All nice on the outside, empty on the inside”. Bradley supposed there was some truth to that given that, with the option of them both readily available to him, he still chooses Knockouts.

You’re bouncing with excitement in his passenger seat, taking in the accents of light blue on the outside of the building as well as the flickering, cursive, neon sign. Bradley’s only mildly surprised you’ve never been here before, but you look like the type who’s put together enough to make home cooked meals so he guesses it isn’t as much of a stretch.

Bradley glances over the cars in the parking lot, taking brief note of any that look out of place. There’s no truck with dried blood on its side mirror so Bradley locks his own car, only making half acknowledging noises as you ramble beside him about his burger order and whether or not he likes pickles. He opens the door for you, his hand finding its somewhat familiar position on the small of your back.

“Hi, welcome to Knockouts. Are you dining in or taking out?” A waitress greets them politely, two menus already in hand.

Bradley glances around the various patrons of the diner. “Taking out.”

There’s an older couple in the back left, speaking to each other quietly over a single basket of fries. At a booth near the door is what looks to be a group of high schoolers, passing phones over various burgers and fries. Two of the girls are turning into each other in hushed whispers, sending him quick glances behind emptying milkshake glasses.

Subtly, Bradley flexes his fingers against your back, pulling your attention away from the menu above your head and you shoot him a smile. “What do you usually get?”

“Their cheeseburgers are good.” He says simply, deciding to just ignore the giggling girls to his left. He lets his gaze fall to your waiting eyes. “Do you want a milkshake too?”

“Yes! I was looking at their oreo one! Have you ever had that?” You light up at the suggestion, continuing to ponder over the flavor options Knockouts offered as Bradley’s eyes dart to the teenagers again.

“Oh shit, I think he has a girlfriend.”

“He’s so tall though…”

“He also looks like he’s 30 fucking years old, Kendra. Don’t think you stood a chance anyway.”

“Shut up, Devon!”

The waitress returns, somewhat of a grimace on her face as she makes her way to the cash register with a slight limp. You frown and before she can even open her mouth to ask for your order, you’re speaking.

“Are you alright?”

“Sorry?” The waitress looks down before she seems to realize what you mean. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. These shoes are a little small,” she chuckles awkwardly. “I, um, I haven’t gotten around to getting new ones yet.”

You nod in understanding. “I know this great secondhand store on Myrtle street. It’s where all the rich people live, so they’re always donating really nice stuff.”

“Oh, um, thank you?” The waitress blinks.

You seem to be rearing up for more conversation, while your waitress looks more like a deer in the headlights. Partly for her sake—and also because he wants those high school girls to stop staring at him—Bradley clears his throat to order.

“We’ll have three cheeseburgers and one oreo milkshake.”

The waitress nods, clearly relieved, taking a ticket back to the kitchen. Bradley stops himself from pulling out his wallet when he notices that you’re frowning again.

“What?” He thinks that maybe he shouldn’t have ordered for you. Natasha always said that women never liked guys who talked over them on a date.

Not that this was a date. Bradley just didn’t need you hating him and snitching to your dad who had already threatened to ruin his fight schedule.

“You didn’t want a milkshake?” You question and Bradley doesn’t really know what to say because, up until this point, he’s been operating his life under the assumption that he doesn’t look like the type of man to ingest milkshakes.

“It’s okay,” you’re smiling again and Bradley wonders if your face muscles are sore from how much you use them. “You can have some of mine.”

“I don’t drink milkshakes, toots,” he grunts.

You laugh. “Everybody drinks milkshakes, Bradley.”

He grunts again.

The waitress comes back with your food, taking Bradley’s card for a brief transaction before she hands over the to-go bag. She looks hesitant, her lip caught between her teeth as she passes the bag over to Bradley, and he’s almost positive she’s going to attempt to ask for his number. Which would fit in perfectly with how the rest of his day has been going.

Instead, she turns her attention to you. “Um, I just wanted to say thank you again for the recommendation. I’ll check it out.”

“No problem!” You smile brightly.

Bradley doesn’t know if he should feel embarrassed or relieved. But you don’t give him a chance to figure it out, turning back to the entrance with a final wave to the waitress. Bradley’s shoulders drop tiredly and he follows after you.

The door shuts behind him, the bell ringing to signal your departure, and a man looks up.

He’s sitting in a booth in the far right corner, under a hanging light that flickers every so often. He doesn’t stand out against the retro theme of the diner, clad in deep blue jeans and a leather jacket. He should be entirely forgettable. He knows he isn’t though, not with the jagged scar on his left cheek.

His eyes stay on you until you get into Bradley’s car. He watches, sitting in a booth in the far right of Knockouts, until Bradley’s antimatter blue Bronco pulls out of the parking lot. He watches until it’s just tail lights in the distance.

He picks a french fry up between two fingers. The fries are greasy, so much so that he’s gone through a fair few napkins, but they’re salted enough to make up for it. If he looks, he can see the salt granules coating the fry. But he doesn’t look. He watches that antimatter blue Bronco drive away.

Bringing the fry up for a bite, the salt stings at his chapped lips and his nose twitches. Another bite. He finishes the fry. He wipes his fingers on a grease speckled napkin. He takes a sip of water.

“Excuse me.”

The waitress walking by his table halts at his words. She turns around with an expectant smile, though it falters when she takes in his face, eyes widening slightly at the sight of the thick, pinkish line that cuts from his cheek bone to the corner of his lips. His own eyes flicker down briefly to read her name tag. “Malory”.

“Can I smoke in here?”

Malory shakes her head, recovering from her surprise and plastering a pleasant smile onto her face, brown hair bouncing on her shoulders. “‘Fraid not, sir. But you can smoke outside if you like.”

The man nods, picking up another fry as his eyes drift back to the parking spot that once housed an antimatter blue Bronco.

“Shame,” he says.

Maverick scratches at his cheek in thought, looking over the photos again. “Well, I can tell you it doesn’t look good.”

“Thanks for the insight, Pete. Real helpful,” Adler deadpans. “Remarkably, we were able to figure that out for ourselves, so if you’re ready to actually be useful, that would be great.”

Bradley’s eyebrows raise almost undetectably, if only because he’s never heard anyone talk to Maverick like that.

Pete “Maverick” Mitchell was a man that always fell on the cusp of being nefarious. He paid his fighters well, didn’t take advantage of them, but you have to be a certain kind of person to get into the business of parading young men around like show horses. He cleaned up messes, no questions asked, but he also made a fair amount of messes. Most importantly, in this instance at least, Maverick had connections.

Maverick leans back in his desk chair. “I am being useful, Joe. I’m sayin’ that, if you’re saying this is Razor, Abnesti’s not involved.”

“You figured that out from a coupla pictures?” Adler crosses arms, unconvinced.

“No, I got it from Abnesti,” Maverick rifles through a desk drawer, pulling out a pack of Marlboros and a lighter. “Steve Abnesti is the kind of guy who’s good at keeping secrets, but isn’t good at keeping that he has a secret. If he had any part in this, he’d have said something to me by now.”

His lighter flicks on and he holds it to a cigarette, before wrapping his lips around the rolled paper and sucking in a breath. Bradley’s nose wrinkles at the smell, but he doesn’t flinch, unmoving as Maverick blows smoke into the air slowly.

“You’re makin’ a mess,” Bradley notes, sparing your milkshake-covered lips a glance after he’s swallowed a bite of his burger.

It’s all over your shirt too—that’s what you get for trying to take a sip while practically lying down — and you tilt your chin down to look at it. You frown slightly at the spot of cookies and cream on your front, moving your thumb to try to rub it off.

Bradley grabs the oreo milkshake from your other hand before you can spill it on yourself again—the cup tilting when you get distracted trying to clean the stain—and you smile nervously. “Sorry.”

He grunts in response, setting your milkshake down on the coffee table, and turning his attention back to the television.

After much convincing—and the condition that he could pick the movie—you’d convinced Bradley to have a movie night while you ate. Bradley had begrudgingly agreed. A movie meant he couldn’t eat his burgers as fast as humanly possible and spend the rest of the night in his room, but it also meant he wouldn’t have to talk to you.

He should have known that you’d try to talk to him anyway.

“You know, I think this is one of Matt Damon’s best roles,” you say through a mouthful of burger, gesturing to the screen of the television.

Bradley makes a small noise of agreement, keeping his eyes trained on his choice of movie—The Bourne Identity—and he regrets not ordering fries because you’re almost done with your burger and clearly can’t be trusted with a milkshake so soon there will be nothing left to keep your mouth occupied.

“Have you watched all the Jason Bourne movies?”

Bradley nods.

“I have too, but it was a while ago— Oh, we should watch them all this week!”

Bradley freezes. This was going to be a recurring thing?

“I have training early,” Bradley provides as an excuse and it’s not technically a lie.

“Oh, okay,” you deflate only slightly and Bradley thinks that maybe you’ve gotten the hint that he doesn’t want to talk. Instead he gets three minutes of quiet before you’re voicing another idea. “Well, maybe I can watch them and then we can talk about our favorite parts together?”

Smoke tickles Bradley's nose and he blinks as Maverick takes another drag off his cigarette.

“Well, if it’s not Abnesti, who is it?” Adler’s eyes are trained on the pictures of you.

Maverick also glances at them thoughtfully, tapping the ash off his cigarette. “That’s where I’m drawing blanks. These looked practiced, whoever took them knows what they’re doing. But—and no offense Rooster—I can’t think of anyone that organized who’d be willing to waste their time and resources with some insignificant boxing rivalry.”

Adler says something but Bradley isn’t listening, shifting to pull his phone out of his pocket. With a glance to check that the older men in front of him are still somewhat distracted, he unlocks it.

Bradley watches you navigate his kitchen for a quick breakfast, looking through his pitiful amount of tableware and groceries. You land on yogurt and granola and Bradley’s brows furrow when he realizes you’re making two cups.

“Give me your phone.”

You jump at the noise, turning around quickly, and it’s the first time in the past 24 hours that Bradley’s seen you look scared.

“Why?” You ask hesitantly, eyes darting between his own like you’re trying to read him. Despite your apprehension, you unlock your phone, handing it to him anyway.

He doesn’t respond for a moment, tapping away on both your phone and his before he hands yours back to you.

“So I have your location,” he explains. You insisted on going to work, even though Bradley thought it was a stupid idea. You argued it’d be stupid for you to stay at his apartment all by yourself and even more stupid to follow him around as he trained at Maverick’s, and Bradley couldn’t exactly disagree. “You have mine too.”

You look down at your phone in your hand, staring at the small dot of Bradley’s contact that’s right on top of your own. You swallow. “O-Okay.”

“Are you ready?” Without thinking, Bradley reaches for the yogurt parfait you made for him.

You nod.

“Alright,” Bradley pockets his phone, reaches for his keys, and turns to the door. All with a cup of yogurt in his right hand. “Text me when you need me to pick you up.”

Your Find My icon is still appearing at the animal shelter, just like it had 10 minutes ago. And 10 minutes before that. Bradley hadn’t realized that your Apple ID would autofill his contact photo for you—a picture of you, eyes scrunched closed mid-laugh while you’re surrounded by hyper puppies greeting him every time he checks your location. Bradley looks at it for a moment.

“I have a few guys down at the station on payroll,” Maverick shrugs, snubbing his cigarette in an ashtray as the conversation comes to a close. “I’ll reach out, maybe they’ll see something I don’t.” He gestures down at the photographs. “Can I keep these?”

Adler nods, looking a smidge more relieved than he did when they entered Maverick’s office. “Thank you, Pete.”

“You’ve saved my ass more times than I can count, Joe. We’ll figure this out,” Maverick claps his shoulder.

Bradley pulls his eyes away from your contact photo and turns off his phone.

Bradley sits up off his mattress at a sudden noise of distress. For the past half hour he’s thought he’s heard things, but this was the first time it was loud enough to confirm as real. He holds his breath, listening for anything to clue him in to what’s going on. The sounds are too clear to be coming from your room, probably the living room if he had to guess. Light dances through the crack under his door. The television is on.

There’s another noise and Bradley gets up. It doesn’t sound like anyone’s in the apartment. The floors creak no matter how light you are so he’d have heard something by now if it was someone trying to break in. Still, he’s guarded as he opens his bedroom door.

He pads past your room, the door wide open and bed empty. As he suspected, he finds you in the living room, stretched out on the couch cushions as you sleep. It’s dark, your body only lit up by the light of the muted television, so Bradley isn’t positive, but it looks like you’re wearing the hoodie he gave you.

Another whimper takes him out of his thoughts and your face scrunches in anguish. Bradley doesn’t know what to do, nightmares had never been an issue for him, even when he was a kid. He can also recognize that waking up from a nightmare to see him looming over you would probably be more terrifying than whatever you were dreaming about, so he knows he needs to do something to ensure that you don’t wake up.

Wordlessly he sits on the cushion that is being occupied by your feet to get out of your line of sight. A more panicked whimper leaves your lips at the movement and Bradley’s hand shoots out to your ankle instinctively. He freezes as soon as he feels the soft skin of your ankle bone, holding his breath as his eyes trail back up to your face. Your brows are still furrowed, but strangely you’ve quieted.

Bradley swallows, his thumb tracing soft circles against your ankle before he fully realizes he’s doing it. A minute passes. And then another. And then your face begins to relax. Your features soften and your breaths even out. The light of the TV dances across your cheek bones and casts shadows onto the crevices of your face. It has Bradley’s breath catching in his throat. You look like one of those renaissance paintings Bob tried to show him once.

After another minute of peace, Bradley carefully gets up, giving you one last glance before he heads back to his room. He feels strange, like there’s a piece of this puzzle he’s missing. Maybe it’s just because you fell asleep watching The Bourne Supremacy, he tries to reason. But deep down, Bradley knows that isn’t right. Maybe you just have nightmares. Maybe it doesn’t mean anything. Maybe he’s overthinking all of this and should go back to sleep.

His hand hasn’t even reached the door knob of his room door before another whimper cuts through the silent air. Bradley sighs.

“Alright, toots. I hear you,” he grumbles quietly as he turns back around, though it’s entirely void of its usual bite. More of a mumble, if anything.

He sits back down by your feet, settling into a comfortable position as his fingers resume their patterns on your ankle and he feels you relax under his fingertips. Bradley picks up the remote with his other hand, turning on the closed captions of The Bourne Supremacy and rewinding to start it from the beginning. He watches the movie with his hand on your ankle.

Every couple of minutes, his eyes can’t help but fall to your sleeping features.

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thelightsandtheroses · 9 months

Text

sing fever to the form | frankie morales x female reader

Summary: Fake dating Frankie Morales seemed the obvious solution to both of your problems, until you caught feelings and now everything is a mess. Pairing: Frankie Morales x female reader Warnings: language and explicit content, 18+ blog - minors do not interact, a little angst with a happy ending romcom style,no physical descriptors, no use of Y/N or specific age mentions for the reader. Word Count: 6.3k Notes: the fic title is from one of my absolute favourite songs which features on every single playlist i ever compile (fever to the form by nick mulvey). I also owe a huge thank you to the lovely @mvtthewmurdvck for her support on this one 💕 i think without her, this would have probably languished in my drafts.

In the cold light of Benny Miller’s bathroom, you come to the conclusion that you’ve made several mistakes. The worst one of these, the one that set the rest in motion like dominoes, had honestly seemed like such a good idea at the time. It appeared such an obvious solution to the numerous questions, interrogations and unspoken pity that you were encountering. You could never have expected this.

You’d moved to Florida for work some time ago and while you had friends and a great career, your love life was definitely lacking. People picked up on it and while no one directly said it, you felt you were continually judged. Sure, it was all well and good that you had a nice job, but if no one’s dating you - well, what’s your red flag?

Between that and the fact your parents kept asking about whether or not you were dating, or if you’d met anyone nice at work, it started to weigh on you. Was there a problem with the way you were living - was it you? Your loved ones seemed so disappointed that you weren’t dating and putting yourself ‘out there in the world’. You tried to tell them the dating pool was not great, that the apps were awful and the only guys you ever seemed to attract came with so many of their own red flags that they could have lined the whole of your street. You’d dated enough bad guys already, you didn’t want to date any more.

You just needed some space.

Frankie was your friend and he was experiencing similar pressures. His friends were asking him when he’d start dating again and he was grappling with a new status as a single father. So, he also needed a break, needed to remove some of the noise from those around him.

Fake dating might belong in the movies, but it seemed an obvious solution to both of your predicaments. For a while, it was perfect.

Frankie is the ideal fake boyfriend, he’s better than any you could have ever imagined. In fact, he is probably the best boyfriend you’ve ever had, which is part of the problem. Most of your previous boyfriends hadn’t been the best, and suddenly here’s Frankie, acting like the perfect man for you?

Of course, you ended up falling for him.

It might have seemed a good idea back then, only now you’re hiding in a bathroom, fighting back tears and berating yourself as the BBQ you’d been looking forward to carries on outside. You’re so stupid. This is a dumb game. It isn’t real.

You’re not supposed to catch feelings.

But you have.

“So, how did we get together?” Frankie asks, leaning his head back against the sofa so you can see all the freckles on his neck above his hoodie.

“Um…” you chew your lip, take a gulp of your drink, “I have no idea.”

Frankie’s house is the sort of home that has comforting chaos and mess to it. His daughter’s things are strewn around the living room, an aviation manual rests on open pages on the coffee table next to you and a pile of battered paperbacks are stacked next to the sofa. The walls are a warm yellow; surprisingly comforting and bright. It’s a stark contrast to how Frankie presents himself outside of his home - cool, collected, a little quiet.

His home feels lived in. You always feel comfortable here.

“We could say that we just realised one day, hanging out, I mean crazier things have happened. A big story would stand out. KISS principles an’ all.”

“What did you just say?’” you ask. “Did you just say kissing principles?”

“Kiss?” He shakes his head. “Keep it simple, stupid! The way I see it, the only way for us to get away with this is to keep it realistic, boring almost so people don’t ask more,” Frankie says thoughtfully.

“Ah, so hooking up with you would be boring? That’s good to know.”

“Oh, carinô, if I kissed you for real that is not the word you’d use …”Frankie trails off, mischievously raises an eyebrow.

“Ergh, you can be so arrogant,” you tease, “Okay, fine. We had a sudden movie like realisation and what - we just got together and then what did we do?”

“Well then, y’know, by that point, you couldn’t exactly walk away.” Frankie smirks salaciously.

You throw a sofa cushion at him.“I think I hate you, Frankie Morales..”

“No, no that’s definitely not what you said.”

“So,” Frankie pauses, runs a hand through his hair. “We should agree what the boundaries are, when we’re with others.”

“Others?”

“Yes, when we’re with our friends. It needs to be believable, right? And I’m sorry, but if we stay like we are now, around my friends, then they’ll know it’s fake in five minutes.”

“Why?”

“I did an online quiz with my ex and um, physical touch is my love language,” Frankie says sheepishly.

“You do know that whole love language thing is bullshit, right?”

“No, it’s not. Jessie said -”

“She’s wrong.”

“Regardless, the quiz said that - ergh, fine, whatever. So, what’s the plan there? I don’t want either us to feel uncomfortable though, okay.”

“We’ve been friends a long time,” you say lightly, “This won’t change that. We can figure this out.” It’s not like you’ve never hugged Frankie or he hasn’t put an arm around you before. How hard can it be - you need people to believe you?

“Also, I am not lying to my kid, or getting her to lie for me. We need to keep her out of it, tell everyone else we’re taking it slow with her until we know it’s serious, okay?” Frankie looks at you with a suddenly serious expression. Oh god, he’s a dad and this is stupid and complicated and you can’t involve her in this and you’ve just been discussing the physical boundaries in this stupid game and this is ridiculous.

It was a pathetic idea of yours.

“Maybe we shouldn’t -”

“It’s fine. We just keep her out of this.”

“Okay, that sounds sensible.”

“So we’re really doing this then?” he asks with a shy smile.

“Yeah, I think we are.”

It’s Frankie. What other choice was there when it came down to it? It’s Frankie with his deep brown eyes that have mastered the puppy dog expression and his shy smiles. You care about him and all of his insecurities, doubts and vulnerabilities you’ve learned over the years. They make him tangible, real, and truer. Perhaps you always liked him and you didn’t know. Maybe you did and subconsciously thought this was the only way you’d have him which is why you’d pursued such a ridiculous idea. Perhaps you had thought this would be like the movies, that he’d confess his love for you and you’d drive off into the sunset.

You’re now accustomed to the way his hands skim your back or waist when you’re with friends, the way he leans closer to you and you can feel his breath against your ear when he whispers sweet nothings in his low voice, smell the laundry detergent on his clothes.

He’s so convincing.

No one has ever questioned whether it’s real with the two of you. You don’t think it would ever cross their mind that the two of you are fake dating.

Your body and mind certainly doesn’t think it’s fake anymore.

You sit on the edge of the bath and try and try and pinpoint when you realised you felt this way. You’ve both been flirting with danger for weeks; the way you’ve let him trace shapes on your side when he pulls you close, how you lean into the crook of his neck, play with the ends of his curls when you’re out with friends. You tell yourself it’s just to make it look real, to make this situation look authentic.

You’ve certainly fooled yourself.

You’re not even sure when you realised this. One moment everything was like normal and then it wasn’t. Perhaps it’s your fault, you have always been a dreamer. You’ve always walked through life fantasising that this will be the moment when everything changes, when you suddenly fit in and someone will like you or fall in love with you. Given the way your mind works, it was inevitably a stupid idea to even try this with Frankie.

It’s been overwhelming at the BBQ today; the gentle touches, the way he looks at you and you almost believe it’s genuine. It wouldn’t normally bother you so much, but now you’re aching for it to be something it can’t be and it’s all too much.

You couldn’t help looking at Frankie throughout the BBQ; wanting to count the freckles on his neck, to run your hands through the curls hidden by his hat as you notice the ends peeking out at the nape of his neck. You’re always taken with the broadness of his shoulders too, his hands.

You’re completely doomed.

You can’t do this anymore. It’s not fair, it’s a betrayal of your friendship with him. It’s a betrayal of his trust because agreeing to do this fake dating was an exercise in trust, one you are failing.

You’ve been thinking about it for days. The reason you feel so safe with Frankie is because it’s not real, because you weren’t supposed to have to give your heart away. It was just meant to distract people so you could breathe again. You’ve seen too many romcoms and movies, you’re too much of a dreamer to have ever let this work without getting messy. You thought you could be detached and objective, but you can’t.

It’s you, you’re the one who has screwed up.

So you go downstairs, make your excuses and leave.

You’ve been fake dating for two weeks and this just might be your best relationship ever. You can’t decide if that’s sweet or perhaps the most depressing thing you’ve ever admitted.

You’re in Frankie’s car on the way to Tom’s birthday, playing with the handle of the gift bag you’re holding. The sun is out, Frankie’s playlist is setting the scene and you feel so happy in this moment.

“Don’t be surprised if they say something about us,” Frankie says casually as he changes gear, “The guys have been giving me grief since I told them about us. Well, since I told them about what we’re saying about us, anyway.”

“I thought the idea was it would stop them giving you grief?”

“Oh, this is much better than it was, trust me,” he says, laughing as he looks at the road ahead. With his sunglasses on, no hat and a loose t-shirt he looks more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him. Frankie strikes you as a tightly wound coil, he’s just got that energy. He’s calm, not something or someone you are afraid of, but you recognise the way he thinks, see the nervous anticipation in his eyes before he smiles at one of his friends on a night out.

You see the same thing in yourself.

“You know, I can’t believe this is working,” you say cheerfully to Frankie, “My mom has even stopped sending me those news articles about people who meet their soulmates later in your life.”

“Your mom was sending you those?” Frankie asks, raising an eyebrow.

“She means well,” you say placidly. “My parents have always had a lot of expectations for me.”

“Shit.” He reaches over and squeezes your hand. “Well, I can promise you that you’re the best fake girlfriend I’ve ever had.”

“Likewise, Frankie, likewise.”

You don’t mean to ghost Frankie after the BBQ. It’s just you’re not sure what to say to him. I’m sorry, but I think this fake dating is getting a little too authentic because I might be falling for you?

You can’t do that to him, can’t embarrass yourself with your stupid crush either. It’s better to just ignore the messages, pretend it’s not happening and bury your head in the sand.

Of course, Frankie knows where you live, so you shouldn’t be as surprised as you are when he turns up at your home.

“So what’s going on? I texted you,” he says with a forced casual voice as he leans against your kitchen counter. He’s wearing a loose t-shirt and jeans, his usual hat discarded next to him. He runs a hand through his hair and looks over at you.

You don’t want to look at him properly, so you focus your attention on your kitchen tiles instead . You really need to mop the kitchen floor later.

“I think, I think this thing has run its course.”

“Oh, really?” Frankie looks surprised, almost sad, when you dare to look at him, “I thought this was working well for us both.”

“A little too well,” you mumble under your breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

You sigh.

“Hey, cariño, talk to me.”

“It’s just us, Frankie, you don’t have to call me that right now.”

“Why, do you not like it?”

You exhale again with exasperation and shake your head. Just make this easier on me, you think, stop muddying the water. When you meet Frankie’s eyes he looks perplexed though, concerned and his brow is furrowed.

“What’s going on?” he asks, arms folded as he looks over at you. “Talk to me.”

“I think we should stop with this fake dating arrangement. I mean, the idea was just to do it until my friends and my parents were off my back and until your friends were off yours, and they are. So, let’s call it a win and move on.”

“Did something happen?” Frankie asks. “You meet someone?” There’s a strange tone to his voice, almost wistful.

“No, no. I just - I don’t think we should keep doing this. I mean that girl asked you out last week at the bar and because Will and I were with you, you said no.”

“She wasn’t my type anyway and that’s what this is about? Come on!”

“I’m - I’m clearly holding you back and that’s not what this was supposed to be.”

“Is this what you really want?”

“Absolutely,” you lie brightly, smiling as widely as you can. “We’re friends and we’ve helped each other out so let’s bow out of this gracefully. We can say to the others - we can tell them we realised that we’re better off as friends.”

“Right. Okay.”

“Okay?” you repeat, disappointed that he’s just giving up, that this really is it.

A small part of you was holding out hope for Frankie fighting back, for him to declare his love for you, take you into his arms and then for the two of you to have the most passionate, intense sex of your life right there in the kitchen. That’s what happens in the movies and books. It’s all meant to end with a kiss.

Only he doesn’t do that.

He just quietly acquiesces to your demand that this ends now and when he smiles, as though his acceptance will make you happy, he shatters your heart into a million pieces.

You have no idea how your friendship will recover from this. You have no idea how to watch someone else love Frankie in the future, to watch him put his hands on someone else or look at them like he looked at you and know it’s real for them but wasn’t for you.

“I should probably go,” Frankie says, his gaze fixated on the floor.

“Oh, right. Well, I’ll see you around.”

The story of your breakup spreads quickly. Your friends are disappointed, they tell you it’s obvious you both liked each other, they ask if you’re sure you can’t work it out? Your parents are clearly disappointed, but at the same time you catch a glance of relief on your mother’s face when you tell her.

“He’s complicated,” she says, taking a sip from her cup of tea. It’s your mom’s first visit in months, a visit you had originally planned during the fake dating misadventure.

“Complicated?”

“He’s a single father and the job he has? Being a pilot isn’t like a regular 9-5.”

“He makes his hours work for his kid, and none of those things were the reason we broke up”you say defensively. “And at my age, most people have previous relationships and baggage so I don’t think that makes him any more complicated than anyone else I could meet.”

“You don’t, darling, you don’t have any baggage.”

“That in itself is clearly a complication,” you say, rolling your eyes like a petulant teenager. “I mean, you and Dad hated it when I was single. You were always asking if I’d met someone, or if I was looking and -“ you trail off and stare at your hands on the table. Your nail varnish is chipped. Rouge Noir, the classic vampy red you always put on when you’re feeling blue, when you need a confidence boost. It’s not working for you right now though.

“We just want you to be happy,” your mom says, gently taking her hands in yours. “Whatever that looks like.”

“I am happy.” It’s meant to sound assertive but it comes out more like a question as you speak. You’re happy, dammit. Or you were before everything went wrong.

“No, honey, you’re in the middle of a break up and it’s obvious you still feel something for him. Are you sure - are you sure it’s over? You told me you were the one who ended things.”

“Yeah, I did. I don’t think - I don’t think it’s a good idea, mom. I’ll get over it. I have this big work project and then that trip and the apartment move soon, so I’ll be fine.”

You’re not sure of anything now. You thought stopping the arrangement with Frankie would save your friendship, but it didn’t. Now you don’t have him at all and it fucking hurts.

You are so angry and sad and confused. This is all your fault for getting feelings that you’d laughed at the possibility of months ago. You’ve lost him anyway and it’s caused a great chasm in your heart.

How can you be mourning something that wasn’t even real in the first place?

When you became friends with Frankie, he introduced you to some of his friends from his military days. While you didn’t exactly get on with all of them, Tom is aloof at best, Benny and you had become friends over time. In the wake of your fictionalised break-up, you’ve lost those people too. You’ve avoided Benny’s fights, wanted Frankie to have his friends without the bother of you. Besides, you’ve been focused on work. You had a trip away for a few days and then you had a big project, presentations. Work has been something to throw yourself into.

It’s a good plan, but Benny keeps texting you and personally invites you to his next fight.

You and Frankie have both said you’re still friends so what’s the problem?

I don’t know if it’s a good idea.

Just come to the damn fight, would you? Liv keeps asking after you.

You decide you should go at least once to show your face. You can do this, you can handle one night. You like Liv, Benny’s girlfriend, and you can say hello and then vanish quickly after the fight ends. If you’re careful with the seating set up, you might not even see Frankie or have to talk to him at all.

The bar is crowded and while Will, Santiago, Tom and Frankie all greeted you when you arrive, it feels different. Stilted somehow.

It’s almost how it would feel if this was a genuine break up, if this was real. You suppose it is to Santiago, Tom and Will.

You sat with Benny’s girlfriend, Liv, for the fight. She squeezed your hand sympathetically when she catches you looking over at Frankie.

Frankie still looks the same as ever, you think as you cast your eyes over to where he is in the crowd. He’s wearing his usual hat, the one you’ve teased him about for years but can’t picture him ever giving up, with well fitting jeans and a jacket. He looks infuriatingly good.

Before the fight Frankie had moved so he was next to you and he looked like he wanted to say something to you before the fight began. Panicked, you quickly moved next to Liv instead and so you were sitting on the other side of the group to him as you took your seats.

Crisis averted, you thought. Only now, you can’t stop wondering what he might have said to you.

“I can’t see why you can’t get it together,” Benny says, taking a sip from his bottle of beer. The two of you are standing together by the bar, waiting for the rest of the group’s drinks. Benny’s mostly fixed up from his fight, with just a small red stain on his forehead between the steri-strips and bruises. You think the other guy must look a lot worse.

“Wait, what did you say?” you ask.

“I don’t see why you and Frankie can’t work it out. I mean, look at him,” Benny points his bottle towards your friends, to where your attention had just been. Frankie’s standing on the edge of the group, arms folded, hat rigid. He looks uncomfortable.

You shouldn’t have come here tonight.

“We tried and it wasn’t a good fit. It wasn’t going to work out,,” you say flatly, repeating the line you and Frankie had agreed on.

“Look, you might have fooled the others, but you can’t fool me.”

Your stomach sinks. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I know you guys were fake dating at first.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You could barely keep your stories straight about how you got together when I asked,” Benny says softly. “You kept adding details and I noticed Frankie shake his head whenever you did that.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? Does Frankie know?” You’re mortified for him, you know how embarrassed he would feel if he found out that Benny had guessed all along it was fake.

This really can’t get any worse.

“‘Cause you two obviously liked each other. I assumed that you’d figure it out along the way. I thought you had, but then -” Benny trails off.

“You know when you assume, you make an ass -”

‘Oh sweetheart, don’t even finish that sentence.“ Benny exhales. “How are you holding up?”

“It’s what you said, it was fake and we ended it and it’s all fine now.”

“Bullshit,” Benny exclaims, his southern drawl even more pronounced.

“It’s not.”

“It is.”

The bartender interrupts by finally handing you the rest of your drinks and between you and Benny, you take them and rejoin your friends.

‘Cause you two obviously liked each other.

Benny’s words echo in your mind. He didn’t say because you liked Frankie, but because you both did.

Frankie doesn’t like you like that though, you know this. He’s clearly just a very good actor.

You end up the one handing Frankie his drink, no doubt due to Benny’s meddling. Your hands brush against his as he takes the bottle and you can’t help looking up at him, noticing the unreadable expression on his face.

Will coughs loudly and you quickly take a step back.

“It was a good fight, Benny,” you say awkwardly, hoping he’ll take the change of subject.

“I need a smoke,” Frankie says, hunching his shoulders as he walks away from the group.

The room instantly turns cold.

You awkwardly pull the edge of your jacket down, wishing the ground would swallow you up. Santi, Tom and Will are staring at you and you can’t be here. They hate you, they’re judging you.

This is so fucked up.

“I’m uh, going to go.”

Liv makes a motion as if to stop you, but she doesn’t, and Benny’s looking at you with real disappointment but that doesn’t stop you either. You’re getting good at running away now.

You’re too afraid to look behind you and see whether they’re looking at you as you walk away.

Frankie’s standing by the parking lot when you finally weave your way past the crowds and bloody fighters to reach the exit.

He looks surprised to see you. Just seeing his face makes your heart ache because you’ve lost him, you’ve lost him and you didn’t want to.

“I’m leaving now, so you can go back in” you say flatly.

“I was just having a smoke,” he says defensively. It’s an obvious lie, you both know it.

“Sure, Frankie. Look, you can’t just stomp off like that. You can’t leave me in that position with everyone. It’s not fair.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a lot of things we don’t discuss, lot of things that aren’t fair,” Frankie says bitterly, tossing his cigarette to the floor and stamping on it a little too vigorously.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What’s going on with you? This wasn’t meant to affect our friendship. I never, ever would have agreed if I’d known,” Frankie says firmly. “You were my friend and I still wanted you to be but you ghosted me and ended our deal. That’s fine, but we didn’t go back to normal after. We just - it’s like you hate me now.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Just would you tell me what I did wrong?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why -”

“It was too real,” you whisper, folding your arms around yourself and leaning against the brick wall.

“What? What did you say?” Frankie asks, moving closer.

“You know, the faking it thing. It was too real, it was confusing me. And I - I didn’t want to ruin everything but I still ruined it all. Story of my life.”

“Don’t say that. Don’t be so hard on yourself.” You think, somehow he’s going to break your heart even more tonight and you didn’t think that was possible..

“I just - I got confused.”

“How did you get confused?” he asks in a low voice, taking another step closer to you.

“Don’t, Frankie, don’t make me say it.”

“Say what?” he asks, dramatically throwing his hands in the air, “I can’t understand you. I mean, this was your idea and then you ended it and now you don’t even want to be friends? I don’t know what I did but -”

“You did nothing, Frankie. It’s me, not you.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Clearly something happened. Can’t you just talk to me? I’m fucking miserable here. You were supposed to be my friend and I miss you.” You hadn’t thought that your actions could have hurt Frankie, you thought you were protecting him by doing what you did.

You feel even worse, a sick feeling rising in your stomach.

“It got muddled in my head, okay, it felt like it was real and I couldn’t do that to you, so that’s why - that’s why.” You falter at the end of your sentence as all of the adrenaline and energy from your body fades away..

“It got too real for you? What are you saying?”

“That I like you. That I ended up liking you more than I should, you obtuse jerk!”

Frankie pauses then takes another step closer. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, a slight smile on his face that you can’t make any sense of.

“It’s embarrassing, Frankie. We made an arrangement and I caught feelings like an idiotic teenager. I’m just daydreaming my life away again.”

Frankie is so close to you right now, he braces his hands against the wall as he stands right in front of you.

“You caught feelings, huh?”

You notice a familiar smirk on his face and then he’s kissing you.

Frankie’s kissed you before; it’s been part of the facade after all, but not like this.

This kiss is everything. It sends molten heat down your core, renders your mind completely blank. All the anxiety, all the internal dialogue is gone for once. The silence is blissful as you can feel your heart pounding, take in the soft texture of Frankie’s shirt as you fist it to pull him closer because now he’s with you like this, you can’t let him go.

It’s not an aggressive kiss, it’s not teeth clashing or fury. It’s not exactly gentle either. Frankie kisses you with care; like he’s trying to take you apart right here and now with just a kiss.

In just one minute, he’s ruined you for other people. No one else could kiss you like Frankie does.

“I told you, if I kissed you for real it wouldn’t be boring,” Frankie mumbles, moving his attention down your jaw and neck to your collarbone. You can feel the velvet softness of his lips, the heat of his breath.

“Oh fuck you,” you joke.

”Well, baby, I think I’m trying. Not here though, we can do better than that.”

You both laugh. The tension breaks for just a second as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, laugh into his neck, breathe him in.

“C’mon, you had to know I liked you. I just, I just thought you deserved someone better than me -” Frankie starts.

“That’s bullshit,” you argue. Frankie is kind, thoughtful and funny. He’s also so competent, multi-skilled and as you’ve just learned, an excellent kisser. Frankie has that quiet and collected energy you’ve noticed in a lot of ex-military people too. He flies planes and helicopters for a living. He’s your friend. How could you deserve any better than him?

“Can we get out of here?” Frankie asks, “Talk, not talk, I don’t mind. I just - I want to be with you right now. God, I missed you.”

“Okay. I really fucking missed you too,” you say, kissing his shoulder lightly before leaning back against the wall.

He doesn’t stop touching you the whole way to your apartment. He’s either holding your hand or touching your leg. If he has to temporarily remove himself to make a turn or change gear, he’s immediately back with you as soon as possible. You wonder if he’s worried you’ll leave or vanish if he’s not actually touching you, if he’s also wondering if this is really happening..

His car stereo blares uncharacteristically cheerful music by the latest pop sensation and you raise your eyebrows when he looks over at you.

“It’s her favourite album by her favourite singer and school’s been rough for her the last few weeks so this cheers her up,” he says defensively, flexing his fingers on the steering wheel, “I think I can probably hear it even when it’s not playing now.”

“Sure, but your daughter’s not in the car with us. Is she, Frankie? You could have switched it over.”

“I keep forgetting to change the CD,” he whines unconvincingly. “This car’s old.”

You make your way to your apartment, his arm around you, fingers entwined with yours the whole time.

As soon as you close the front door, he’s pushing your back against the wall, cupping his hands around your face to kiss you deeply.

You move your hands up to meet his and then move one of your hands down his chest.

“Your heart’s racing like crazy,” you mumble as he kisses a particular spot on your neck.

There’s always a moment of fear at a junction like this. What if the sex is bad - what if you’re just not compatible this way? But you need him, you need him with you, in you and the two of you are both too far gone to focus on that now.

Your friendship is changed anyway. There’s nothing more to lose.

He places his hands on your hips, pulls you away towards your bedroom.

“I want you so much,” he says.

“I want you too,” you reply, dazed between kisses as he navigates you to the edge of your bed.

He ghosts his hands down to the edge of your top and you move to desperately pull it off you.

You watch him take in the sight of you in your bra, take in the smile on his face. He looks at you with something like reverence; as if he can’t quite take it in that you’re real and you’re with him. Part of you wants to glow under his gaze and the rest of you fights panic, because this feels different, it feels real. You’ve never been looked at like this before.

You’ll do anything to keep this moment.

He gently unhooks your bra, moves his kisses down from your lips to your neck to your collarbone to the curve of your breasts and then down again.

His hands fumble with the button of your jeans and you’re desperate for him.

“What do you want, baby?”

You, you think, I just want you.

”C’mon, tell me,” he coaxes.

“I just need you. I want you to - ”

“I’ve got you,” he says, calmly lifting your hips to remove your jeans, to touch the hem of your underwear - and could you have not put better underwear on this morning?

You open your mouth to say something but then he comes back to meet your lips as he moves his hand inside your underwear. You’re already slick with wanting him, he slides a finger inside before tracing circles over your bundle of nerves to make you gasp.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he whispers as he continues taking you apart.

“Frankie -”

“I’ve liked you for so long, I just thought you didn’t want me that way. I’d take anything you give me - friendship, I mean fake dating. I thought it was as close as I’d get.”

“Frankie, how could I not want you that way? You’re - you’re Frankie.”

“Exactly.”

“I’m going to show you.”

You feel your orgasm building and clasp your hands over his shoulders, into his hair. You shut your eyes and then it’s gone.

“Frankie?”

You open your eyes to see him take his finger into his mouth then mischievously smiles as he moves back and off the bed. He moves you so your legs are over the edge of the bed and then. He gets on his knees.

You take a deep breath He kisses the inside of your knee, traces kiss up your thigh until he meets you. You sit up slightly on your elbows as he looks up to meet your gaze with a dazed smile before he turns his attention to you.

Frankie Morales knows exactly what he’s doing between your legs but in case, you tell him how good he is anyway. He takes you apart with expert precision, gets you back to the precipice of pleasure all too quickly and guides you over the line.

“Do you want to -” he asks breathlessly as he comes back to you afterwards and kisses you. You can taste yourself on his lips, can feel his hardness pressing into you.

“Yeah, I do. I have uh - condoms in the bathroom cabinet.”

“Give me a second.” He kisses you briefly and you shut your eyes again as he goes to the bathroom. You try and catch your breath back and get your legs to stop trembling.

Why are the condoms so fucking far away? You still desperately need him, still need to feel him.

When Frankie comes back, he kisses you hungrily before he slides the condom over his length.

“Fuck, to think we could have been doing this the whole time,” he says before he’s sliding inside you.

There’s nothing else at this moment. It’s just you and him and the way you dig your fingers into his back with your free hand and the way your other hands is entwined in his as he moves inside you, the two of you desperately exchanging sweet nothings to each other, groaning each other’s names.

Your heart is racing and the blood is pumping in your ears. You watch the expression on his face just before he buries his face in your neck, sure he can feel the way you’re tightening around him, can surely feel how close you are too and then just as he takes you to that place one more time, you hear the way he moans as he joins you.

The next morning you watch Frankie pacing your balcony as speaks on the phone to his daughter. His hair is still damp from the shower, curling at the ends, and he has a mug of coffee in his other hand. He turns and smiles at you.

Just twenty four hours ago, you never thought Frankie could feel that way about you. You were resigned to your mistakes and your losses.

You were wrong.

He hangs up the phone and you walk over to join him on the balcony, your mug of coffee tightly clasped between your hands.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” he says, putting his phone in his pocket and wrapping his now free arm around you as he takes a gulp of coffee.

You take a sip of your own coffee.

“I was just thinking,” Frankie says, “so, I guess the story we came up with before was true, right? We just realised how we felt about each other one day - and okay, it might have taken some fake dating to get us both there - but no one else needs to know that.”

“No one else needs to know that.”

You definitely need to tell Frankie at some point that Benny has figured everything out, that Benny clearly pushed you two together last night. You probably owe him a thank you, but you’ll never tell Benny that.

“So, what do we do now?” There’s a lot you need to discuss, figure out, but you just want to be with him. Surely that’s enough for now.

Frankie grins. “Well, I don’t need to be home until the afternoon so I’ve got some time right now.”

“I’m sure we can think of some things to fill that time.”

Frankie laughs. “Definitely.”

Tag List

All Pedro characters: @harriedandharassed @pedrostories @hiroikegawa @pedrosaidsheispunk

#frankie morales x female reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #triple frontier #frankie morales fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction

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missmonsters2 · 1 year

Text

—ADRONITIS | One

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x OFC/Fem!Reader

Summary: Wednesday's quite aware she has no people skills, but that doesn't stop her from wondering why she can't know everything about one person immediately.

Warnings: None.

Series Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Count: 1.9k

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Adronitis: noun. The frustration with how long it takes to get to know someone.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Everyone who knows Wednesday can confidently say she's not a people person, and even Wednesday herself can tell you she's not. People are strange, annoying, emotional creatures that she's fairly certain she lacks a particular trait to handle.

Of course, some individuals have unfortunately made it past her prickly walls. Her roommate and begrudgingly best friend, Enid, can be tolerated in longer spurts. Eugene is just another Pugsley, so she has to look after him. She supposes Xavier isn't dreadful to deal with. Now.

Would Wednesday commit first-degree murder for them? Yes, but that's not the point.

The point—what was the point?

Wednesday internally huffs with annoyance. She's an articulate person, but lately, she isn't.

Reluctantly, Wednesday's eyes trail to the side, where she sees her reason for inarticulation.

"Ah, so this is why you're sitting in the courtyard today," Enid smiles innocently, but Wednesday can see the knowing look in her eyes and purses her lips in a scowl as her eyes return to her book. She's finally gotten her hands on Goody's spellbook, and she's been trying to finish reading it for weeks.

But alas...she's been...distracted.

"I don't blame you," Enid sighs as she looks over to where Wednesday was just gazing. "Everyone's looking at our resident Faerie. I wish she'd sit at our table today."

Wednesday silently agrees but tells herself she didn't. But she did. It's been nearly a week since you've sat with their tiny group of weirdos. Heroes, but weirdos.

Today, you're sitting with the fangs, and Wednesday just can't fathom why. She gets your little rotation schedule, but vampires were so overrated, and from the small conversations she's heard here and there—incredibly boring.

Who cares about their diet? Wednesday thinks they lack innovation if their only choices are humans or animals (because, quite frankly, another outcast could kick their ass).

Yet, you sit there, smiling serenely and nodding with genuine interest. You ask questions and laugh at their witless jokes, and it drives Wednesday crazy.

Wednesday doesn't understand your sense of humor. Although, no one understands Wednesday's sense of humor either. That's usually the pattern. Sometimes, it feels like you and she are two sides of the same coin.

You're both very different at Nevermore. While you're both outcasts within the outcasts, it's not the same. Whereas Wednesday didn't understand people, and they didn't gravitate toward her, people seemed to argue for your time.

Hence, why you sat at a different lunch table every day.

Wednesday's mind drifts as she frowns. There's little known about Faeries as they're usually recluses, and there are so few of them. Especially night faeries.

But now, it makes her wonder. Are Faeries like sirens? Do they lure everyone in their proximity without choice? That would certainly make more sense on Wednesday, and it would explain her recent behavior.

Wednesday frowns deeper. Principal Weems has already sternly told others that while the Faeries are extremely beautiful and charming, they have no such powers.

So, Wednesday was at a loss. She was beginning to think this school was designed to be the bane of her existence. Unwillingly, her gaze drifted again, but this time, you turned your head simultaneously and caught her eye.

You smile soft and sincere but unobtrusively at her, and Wednesday looks away, her face impassive.

It wasn't unusual.

This was exactly how all her interactions with you went. Very often, no words are exchanged, but you smile and wave at her as you pass by in the hallways. You greet her warmly when you sit at their table or in class.

"Your unhappy face is showing," Enid points out, a slight upward quirk on her lips as she bites into her sandwich.

"This is always my face," Wednesday deadpans.

"No, it's not," Enid shakes her head confidently. If there's one thing Enid can say, she stares at Wednesday a lot, so she knows her roommate very well. "You tilt your chin down and glare through your eyebrows more than look through them. It's very protruding," Enid points directly at Wednesday's eyebrow and forehead. "See? Unhappy face."

Xavier is looking at her through his apple, using it to shield how he's holding back his laughter as he grins at her.

Wednesday relaxes her brows, her eyes becoming less narrow before she raises her brow at Enid. "Then what face is this?" The werewolf ponders her roommate's face and then sighs like she's been chastised.

"General distaste," Enid mutters, but then she brightens as she looks up. "Oh, Fae is coming over here!"

"Why do you insist on calling her that when she has a name?" Wednesday asks. You never seem mad about it, and it's not like Wednesday would care if people walked around calling her witch instead of Wednesday, but it's another thing she doesn't understand.

"Hm," Enid hums. "I guess it just became a nickname when she came. I mean, I guess it's kind of weird to call someone by their creature name...should we try to come up with a new one for her?"

"Whatcha guys talking about?" You smile as you approach. You've got a grape lollipop in your mouth given to you by one of the shapeshifters. Xavier and Eugene move over so you can sit down, directly facing Wednesday. "Hi, Wednesday," you say her name so casually, staring at her until Wednesday nods in acknowledgment.

She's tense as she grips the edge of her book tightly. Her eyes are steadfastly attached to the pages even if she's not reading them.

"We're talking about how everyone started to call you Fae," Enid grins, her smile wide and excited, but then frowns. "I hope it doesn't bother you."

You hum for a long moment, a sound that Wednesday hangs onto. She can see you through her peripherals. You seem in deep thought, and Wednesday can't understand why it's taking you so long to decide whether it bothers you. She wants to tell you to hurry it up so she—they can have the answer.

"I supposed it started when one of the psychics saw me in person, and all he could stutter out was 'Fae' over and over," you shrug.

"Feeble-minded," Wednesday mutters, and you smirk at her, and now she's wondering what exactly that could mean.

"It doesn't bother me," you continue on. "I mean, I guess it's fine since there are no other faeries at the school, but it might be confusing when there are. I can't exactly go around calling on a person wolfy when that could be any of the werewolves here."

They all nod, except Wednesday.

"We should try to find a new nickname for you!" Eugene exclaims, emboldened by your friendliness to him. "How about nightcrawler!"

"As enchanting as that is, I'm going to have to veto that one," you give him a wry smile. He slumps in defeat while Xavier gives in a pat on the back.

"Oh," Enid squeals excitedly, and Wednesday shirk and winces at the sound. "We could all try to find a new nickname for you until we get the right one!"

"And why should we if Fae says it doesn't bother her?" Xavier asks as he turns over and gives you what Wednesday believes he thinks is a boyish smile.

"Spoken like a true simpleton," Wednesday cut in, still not looking up. "Will that be your new nickname?"

"Ouch," Xavier laughs, the insult falling off his back. Although, he doesn't doubt that's his contact name on Wednesday's phone. "Alright, I get it. Fine, the person who gets their nickname chosen gets Fae's number. How's that?" He looks over to you, and Wednesday snaps her head up, finally to look at you too.

You seem pensive. Another thing Wednesday knows but doesn't understand. It's getting irritating with how many things are adding up that Wednesday wants to know now and can't.

Nobody in the school has your number though they all see you on your phone as you stroll down the hallway. Wednesday has heard you turning people down when they ask for your number, citing how there've been too many requests, and the number of texts or calls you'd get would be too overwhelming. So, now it's been an unspoken rule between the school that no one gets your number if they cannot all have it.

You peer over at Wednesday, and she doesn't flinch away from your gaze. She refuses to lose whatever staring game you've created.

"Okay," you acquiesce, staring at Wednesday for a moment longer before standing up. "I'll see you guys in class. I'm going to see if the shapeshifters have more grape lollipops. They're my favorite."

Grape lollipops are your favorite. Is it just the lollipop, or is it grape in general?

"Well, this should be fun," Enid bounces her seat before she looks at Eugene. "I'm going to have to say it's looking unlikely for you, bud."

"I have more ideas!" Eugene protests.

"Never accept defeat," Wednesday looks back at her book, inwardly frowning when she's still on the same page she's been trying to read for the last 20 minutes. "Would be an acceptable suggestion for me. Accept defeat in this case, Eugene."

There's more bickering at the table while Enid bumps her shoulder against Wednesday. "So? Are you going to try to come up with something and get Fae's number?"

"No, it's a trivial matter. Why would I want it? The only time I ever use my phone is when you've dragged me into your 24/7 addiction and Xavier cries for my attention."

"I do NOT cry—"

"So, I have no need for it."

Plus, would you expect her to text you if she had your number? Would she even want to text you? Wednesday supposes it'd be an equal trade of information, so you'd have her number too. Should she expect you to text her?

Wednesday glances in her peripheral and sees you with another lollipop as you sit with the shapeshifters. You've got an apple in your hand, but you look at it blandly.

Not a fan of apples, then?

Wednesday feels annoyance gnaw at her insides. It's not irregular for Wednesday to sometimes show interest in others. Knowing others is valuable information that can be used at a later date.

But why in the hell does it take so long to get to know someone? Why can't Wednesday just know all your deep, dark secrets first and then make her way out to the trivial things?

"What a shame," Enid sighs casually, looking straight ahead, but her eyes tilt to the side to stare at her gloomy roommate. "I think having a phone and texting is great! It's way faster to get to know someone over text since you can always be in communication. You know what else is a thing? At 2AM, people lower their guard down, and they're more likely to spill secrets."

Wednesday slams her book shut, standing up and leaving briskly.

Research is needed. Her father has few skills, but one of them is coming up with nicknames. That skill should undoubtedly pass on to her.

Wednesday glances at you as she walks out of the courtyard. You look over at her and smile with a wave before turning back to your conversation.

Defeat is not in Wednesday's vocabulary. She will beat the constraints of time and know everything there is to know in haste. There will be victory, and it will be hers.

PART TWO

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x ofc #wednesday x ofc #wednesday addams #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega imagine #mm: my fics

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chaichaiiskai · 5 months

Note

Hi okay so if you're still doing a request can I get a (baki) Pickle x bottom male reader. So I want public sex where Pickle FuCks Reader Hard infront of everyone kinda like the reporter scene but you know with consent but if your not comfortable with that just normal rough sex in a bed room or forest since that's where Pickle is from.

If your not comfortable with this then that's okay i understand.

notes: OKAY, so, I did not see this until I wrote the last pickle request so I'm gonna connect this ask with that one— it's right here if ya wanna read it, deffo recommend it bc of lore :D hope ya enjoy this too !!! can't even lie, I'm thoroughly invested in the story of Pickle and Cucumber and I'm honestly thinking about keeping these two as reoccurring on my blog ngl.

warnings: mdni, homophobes do not interact, amab reader, he/him pronouns, violence against others that aren't reader, murder, blood and blood depictions, brief description of violence against woman and their wombs, mxm, pickle is very protective and basically yandere but who wouldn't be during the jurassic time period, rim jobs, lack of prep before anal, noncon mentioned but not against reader, reader is called cucumber by the facility and is basically a nickname, cumflation, belly bulge, size difference, very massive, very long, giant cock that is more weapon than genital, rough and unprotected sex bc duh they're both primitive men, hunting of animals, drugging // food tampering— I think that's it, lemme know if I missed anything.

The ultimate goal of the experiment was to further test the pure, raw strength of the primitive man when fueled by emotion and longing, going without food for a week. And their experiment proved to be true, far too true as a matter of fact. Multiple casualties would be forever staining the pages that reported the experiment and any sane person would have ended the experiment then and there to reunite the two lovers again.

However, a man at the top, who thought of nothing but himself, wanted to see just how far Pickle would go, even if that meant more casualties would have to be made. And so, the bloodbath ensued.

As Pickle roamed the facility halls, wave after wave came at him, rubber bullets aimed his way and raining on him that proved to have no impact on him whatsoever. He easily swiped aside the nuisances that are in his way, swiping away the small people until they go flying, hitting nearby walls— the sound of cracking bones, splattering, and coughing is sickening. So sickening that some of the scientists, though they love their jobs, find themselves going against the higher-ups.

One bravely moves in front of Pickle and holds his hands up, attempting to seem as if he was defenseless and then began to point behind him, pointing at a large door that was down the hall the primitive man was currently stalking down.

"He's there! There!"

He quickly announced, and then used his other hand to wave in the direction of the security camera he knew was currently watching the entire sight.

And on cue, the giant doors opened. To your surprise, the wall opening woke you out of your forced slumber that was brought onto you by a primitive form of depression sparked by your loss of companionship.

With heightened abilities, Pickle smelled you before he saw you, and as soon as he laid eyes on you, he was unable to make a sound, simply getting into all fours again and bounding towards you at full-speed. Despite being weakened by the lack of nutrients, you slowly sat up onto your hands and knees before feeling yourself being tackled back to the ground, bodies rolling until the two of your slammed against a tree, Pickle's back took the blow and nearly uprooted the thing. He rolled again onto a patch of grass, still holding you comfortably in his arms until you were in a patch of grass, dropping you onto your back while he buried his face into your neck, starting to nibble onto any part of it that he can reach, sharp fang-like teeth scratching over your skin and leaving indents.

The door to this new enclosure is shut and on the outside, the cleaning procedure begins, but not without some scolding to the researchers who went against the higher-ups. Cucumber and Pickle did not seem to care about whatever was going on outside of them, far more focused on each other and keeping each other close.

From then on, Pickle cannot be more than a foot away from you, and he can only sleep when he's on top of you, shielding you from whatever threatens the outside.

The only scientists he allows inside the enclosure are small, fragile-looking women. He'd already killed a few of the male scientists who dared to enter, a warning and a threat. And recently, in hopes to appease the two primitive men and get back on their neutral sides, wild animals have been introduced into the enclosure, giving the illusion of a hunt for the both of you, and unfortunately, your enjoyment in fruit had been ruined thanks to the scientists and their cruel, cruel experiment.

You were only able to eat what Pickle hunted, and in another week, you looked more alive again, even helping with the hunt and relishing in Pickle's presence yet again. So far, it seemed that Pickle seemed to enjoy crocodile meat quite a lot, whilst you had your own preferences. And once you were back at a healthy level of energy, Pickle immediately recognized it and let his instincts win, one could not blame him for feeding into such carnal desires.

After an especially filling meal, you find yourself being hunted just like your previous meal, but it's the kind of hunt that gets the hair on the back of your neck standing. Your primitive partner growls at you in a suggestive manner and suddenly, he's chasing you around the enclosure, getting the adrenaline pumping in your veins and his. And when he's had enough, he's got you pinned down onto the ground, pulling at the loin cloth that keeps you from him until it comes off, making him toss it aside. He's hurried and hungry, yanking his own loin cloth off as you roll onto your stomach, eager for him to mount you, hardened cock swinging between your legs while a bead of pre dribbles out the top. You're on your knees, propping your body up in the ideal position for— breeding essentially.

Pickle is eager himself, lining his massively thick, veiny dick up with your rim, nearly growling at the anticipation as he presses the head against it and starts to push. Every part of the tanned man is large, including his third leg that was just a few inches over a foot in length and thick like a world record-breaking, sizable anaconda. He tried to force himself into you, but you push him out, obviously because it's been a while and it seems to frustrate the beast, eliciting a growl from him as he eyes your little hole with his brows furrowed. Everytime you breathe, it winks at him, almost like it's taunting him and you can't help but to grow frustrated, huffing at him from over your shoulder, but he can't stop staring at your hole, curious eyes drilling themselves into your ass.

Then, yet another instinct comes over him as he leans down, shoving his tongue past the first ring of muscle, the fat thing nearly longer than his cock. The sensation is strange but it only makes more pearls of pre dribble from your tip, your own cock seemingly throbbing as his wild tongue throbs around inside of you from behind, forcibly stretching you with its width. The muscle thrashes around inside of you, wildly moving about, darting in and out of you like an excitable puppy drinking water from a lake. His tongue movements are uncoordinated and hungry, so much to the point that it's darting about with no clear destination, even causing a few stray licks to the underside of your balls that makes you flinch every time.

Pickle isn't particularly sure what he's doing or why he's doing it, but he couldn't stop himself from feeding into the curiosity. It surprised you as well, considering he's never done to you before and you had never felt so good down there like this.

Shamelessly, a group of researchers and scientists were watching this ensemble unfold in real-time, gathered around with food in their hands like shameless perverts watching an adult film.

For science! They would most likely say, ignoring their own instincts to shove a hand in their pants at the scene in front of them.

The licking, although pleasant, was becoming too much and there was a buildup you were feeling in your shaft that had you panting like a dog, clawing at the ground and smashing your skull against the dirt. For some unknown reason, Pickle took your sounds as a signal of sorts and he remembered his own issue, heavy uncircumcised cock seeming to throb and lift with eagerness. Yet again, he pulls himself back to position himself properly, lining himself up with your hole and then pushes the tip in, a chirp of excitement escaping him as he plunges in deeper, going in about halfway before you feel as though the insides of your stomach are literally being rearranged. Fertile balls are pressed up against yours as he manages to jam every inch into your awaiting hole, somehow you're able to take every inch, an impressive feat within itself. Perhaps, this is why he took you as a lover. A flash of memories comes to mind to both you and Pickle.

. . .

Pickle had his share of sexual partners— instinctually he went after women, who he ultimately killed by accident after ripping through their wombs with the deadly length between his thighs. He had found a woman once, able to take him fully, but she did not recuperate his feelings and escaped him after a session of breeding. Eventually, Pickle stumbled upon Cucumber, a man of smaller stature than him, but strong in his own way. Their first meeting was anything but friendly, both of them going after the same prey of a Jurassic animal, looking for their next meal, fighting each other while simultaneously fighting the creature in hopes of getting meat. Ultimately, they ended up killing the beast together and bregrundingly shared, taking from the hunted beast without acknowledging each other much after.

But through unfortunate events, you continued to run into each other at different points in both of your traveling journeys, but continued to ignore each other regardless. And on one of those fateful meet-ups, however, Pickle had made a mistake— a mistake that brought on a sense of fear that he'd never once had to deal with before.

Consuming a wasp.

The pain he'd felt from it made him more vocal than ever, scaring away beasts and other people alike. However, Cucumber was not fearful, instead, he went a pang of sympathy for the man who he'd considered somewhat of a companion.

Immediately jumping into action, tapping into a nurturing side that he sometimes would ignore, he wandered hurriedly to the nearest lake of water, cupped his hands and gathered a healthy amount of it into his hands and wandered towards the other man. He growled at that primitive man who was still in excruciating pain, opening his mouth in an attempt to get the message across to him and with tears in his eyes, Pickle obliged, reminding Cucumber of a whimpering babe who was hungry for milk.

Dumping the handfuls of water into Pickle's mouth, you watched as he held the water in his mouth for a moment and then spit it out, along with the wasp, coughing up quite a storm. You frowned as he coughed, hesitantly patting his back afterwards, and after a while, you left to gather something to soothe the residual burning— fruits, which you forced Pickle to eat, despite his disdain for eating things that he did not hunt himself. But when he did as you wanted, the burn disappeared and you were ready to take your leave after helping him— only to have the man hot on your tail, everywhere you went, following you closely from behind.

Surprisingly, you didn't shoo him away, and that was what began the true extent of your strange relationship. It didn't take much longer before he would develop something new, love, and you returned the feeling. And in a moment of intimacy one late night, under the stars, he'd mounted you for the first time like a woman and breeded you under the moonlight. It was somewhat romantic, even with the guttural sounds of pleasure and delight that came from you both. And when you took him in his entirety without complaint, he was even more infatuated with you than he'd already been.

. . .

The primal man is grinning at this point as he's able to properly mount you, beginning to thrust at a pace that has your body rocking back and forth, his mouth and the area around it shiny with his own saliva as he plunges further. You're lucky you're stronger than the average and modern man, claws digging further into the dirt to keep yourself from toppling forward. Pickle is pounding into you, thrusting his hips with a tenacity that's enough to shake the trees around you, you're lucky your body is built for the brutality.

Watchful eyes are carefully observing, even going as far as to have a discussion onto why the two of you had chosen each other as mates since there was no chance of either of you reproducing. Then again, did reproducing matter much to the primitive people of your time? Apparently not, though Pickle seemed to be /breeding/ you as if it were indeed, possible.

Poor Cucumber was experiencing the true strength of Pickle's excitement, quite literally being fucked into the ground by a beast of mass destruction. The researchers collectively feel a sense of great respect for you as you handle the creature on top of you with gritted teeth, groaning and growling as you take every inch. It's a rough experience that leaves you teary eyed, wobbly lipped, and whining, just like all the other times he has his way with you. Pickle doesn't seem to let up, not even when your teeth chatter as a familiar and growing pleasure comes over you, blossoming in your hips and cock, strings of white spewing from your tip and onto the ground beneath you in spurts that seem to last far too long. Your cock seems to soften after cumming a second time, though it continues to twitch and swing with the pistoning of barbaric hips that continuously drive you forward. Squelching and the sound of skin repeatedly colliding is nearly as loud as the proud growls Pickle does, his chest vibrating with an animalistic equivalent of pride when you cum, squeezing his erection enough to milk him just right.

And fortunately, your poor hole doesn't need to take much more abuse before Pickle reaches his edge as well, unleashing copious amounts of his load into you, cum spilling out the edges where your bodies connected, dribbling out in the dirt like lines of salt. You'd felt full like this before, never able to get used to the feeling but still enjoying it regardless, a strange after result is the slight pouch in your lower belly that is made due to an immense amount of cum. Pickle holds himself there for a bit before pulling out and he's /still/ coming, ropes of the sticky white landing on your back and your rear, the insane amount he's dumped into you beginning to spill out and trickle from your gaping, spasming hole. Your lover lets out an affirmative, satisfied groan and then lays down onto the ground on his side right next to you. He wraps one of his lengthy arms around you and pulls you towards him, your chest neerly flush against his, and you rest your forehead against his shoulder, panting as you attempt to catch your breath, almost as if you'd been running after an especially fast prey. Pickle shuts his eyes and rests his chin on top of your head as he slowly shuts his eyes, having been drained of energy. It's not long before he's asleep and his body naturally locks in place around you, almost like a protective barrier. One of his legs is draped over yours, hooked behind your knees, his monstrous cock nestled between your thighs while yours is squeezed between your stomach and his abdomen, lower bodies entangled where it's almost difficult to distinguish between limbs. His arm is still wrapped around your back, the other had joined, slipping beneath you as his hands interlocked behind your back. This position is new, he's usually laying right on top of you when he sleeps, completely covering you up like a shell on the back of a turtle, making it nearly impossible to see you beneath him unless one looked from very specific angles.

You're tired as well, hole still leaking with Pickle's cum as your eyelids grow heavy. Your body is hot and sticky with sweat, making your skin stick to his, but you always find comfort in his presence, snaking your own arms around the massive man's body the best way you can before you drift off to sleep as well.

To the researchers and facility crew who are still watching on the security cams, they see the cuddling session as wholesome— despite the previous actions of you both— and nearly coo at the cuddling session.

Perhaps they would need to adjust their research and find different questions to think about...

#— chai’s asks. !!#— chai rambles. !!#— anonnie. !!#male reader #x male reader #amab reader #baki smut #baki the grappler smut #pickle x male reader #pickle x y/n #pickle x reader #pickle x you #pickle baki #baki pickle #yandere baki hanma pickle

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