#y tf does he have so many names

[luxurychristmaspudding]

watch | JM x FM x SG x f!Reader

summary: after showing frankie what he was missing, something seems to have been awoken in you all. with joel away on a contract and santi called out of town, you're left in frankie's care. except one rule still stands - you can't touch.

read part 1, listen, here BONUS: al's handy guide to reading watch

grouping: f!reader x joel miller x frankie morales x santiago garcia

rating/warnings: 18+. MDNI. no outbreak (tlou) - but based after the tf mission. alright, buckle in. softdom!joel, softdom!santi, sub!frankie, sub!reader, lil bit of softdom!reader and bratty!reader as well hehe. drinking, pet names (inc. little/baby girl, baby boy). rules get broken (surprise!), praise kink, dirty talk, daddy kink, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it!), exhibitionism, voyeurism, public fingering, blowjobs (m receiving and giving), rimming, mutual masturbation, phone sex, use of toys (f&m), consensual somnophilia, cumplay, edging, facesitting, anal fingering (m), mfm, anal sex (m receiving), tiny bit of breath play (not reader), light bondage, brief gagging, very high sex drives but who can blame them, once again so many orgasms i lost count, and in the immortal words of @thatredheadwriter, 'so much fluid exchange I think a hasmat team should probably go in to clean it up' reader wears dresses and has hair, but has no other descriptions. no use of y/n.

wc: 25k (i know, i'm so sorry)

an: many many many thanks to the peeps who waited an age for this. you've all been so patient and kind and i hope you enjoy! for @schnarfer, @swiftispunk, @5oh5 and @janaispunk who, without their constant encouragement and recommendation, this may not have happened at all <3 dividers as always from the wonderful @saradika-graphics

In the weeks that follow, you wait for the ball to drop. 

You wait to feel weird about what the four of you did, for the kick of it, for Joel to reveal that he actually wasn’t that sold on it. You wait for a text or call from Frankie or Santi to say it was nice knowing you, but it was a little much, a little weird to see you around now. 

It doesn’t happen. 

You stay slotted into Joel’s life like you were always meant to be there. You stay over at his, he stays over at yours. You spend lazy Sunday mornings making waffles or pancakes and getting fucked dumb. He brings you flowers when work is hard, you rub his shoulders when he’s had a rough day on site. Your body is marked beneath your clothes with his bruises, the shape of his teeth, and his is marked by yours, the scratch of your nails traced delicately down his back. 

You spend your time orbiting around each other, close and safe in the bubble you’ve built, warm and soft in the afternoon sunlight that streams through the curtains on your days off, eating in and eating out. He becomes more familiar than anyone else has ever been with the inner workings of your mind, the inner workings of your body. He introduces you to his brother, Tommy, and his wife, Maria. He talks about you to Sarah, and she says she’d love to meet you next time she’s home from college. He makes space for your books on his shelves, and your clothes find a way into his wardrobe; his squeeze into your drawers, a spare toothbrush for him in your bathroom. He kisses you, hot and open mouthed when he drops you off at work, does the same when you find his truck waiting outside for you when you’re done. He asks how the boys are when you come home from drinks with them, listens with sparkling eyes when you tell him Benny’s latest hookup is from the bar you used to work at, the place where they first met you. He chuckles and tells you he's glad Santi introduced the two of you when he did, before any of the others swooped in and took you for themselves. 

Sometimes, you think he forgets about the night that Frankie asked you out, the conversations that followed. How close it could have been. 

But that's naive of you. Naive of you to think that he doesn’t see, doesn’t seek out the claim that Frankie and Santi have also made on you. Because he knows. In some infuriating, impossible way, he always knows. 

He shows you he knows one morning, when you have already been awake for what feels like hours, watching his broad chest rise and fall with deep, sleeping breaths.

You trace the curve of his nose with your eyes, the scruff of his beard, the way his curls have grown out. Luscious and thick, spattered with grey, curling down into the nape of his neck. His lips look so warm, so soft, that you’ve been challenging yourself, seeing how long you can go without kissing him awake. Seeing how long you can go with just remembering how they felt between your legs last night, wet with spit and your release as he soothed you through orgasm after orgasm, kissing your thighs, sucking marks into your soft flesh as he held you down with one thick palm braced against your belly, the other with its fingers gently pumping in and out of you. The deep timbre of his voice when you made yourself look at him, his praise, good girl, there she is, doin’ so good for me, sweet girl through your tears, as you begged him, begged him for something else, something more. More, daddy, you’d pleaded. You'd needed something thicker, something deeper. You always do.

You squirm beneath the sheets, pressing your thighs together. Try to think of anything else. The green of his bedroom walls, the boots you know will be at the end of the bed. His trinkets on the dresser - the watch Sarah bought (and fixed, many times) for him, the picture of him and his family at Tommy and Maria’s wedding, your clothes scattered about the floor, the chair in the corner of the room, the chair where he sat that night, as he watched, as he watched you -

You roll over onto your side to look away from it, squeezing your eyes shut, barely able to control your whimper. You’re slick between your thighs, too warm as your wetness mixes with the cum still drooling out of your cunt. You try and count his freckles instead, starting from his forehead to his cheekbones, down to his neck - his neck - his shoulder, the bite mark you left there as he spilled himself into you, the hand resting on his chest, his thick fingers, his fingers -

It’s no good. It’s no fucking good. He needs to rest, so you take a deep breath and steel yourself. Coffee. You’ll head downstairs, you’ll make coffee, and when he’s slept enough you’ll talk him through everything you’ve been thinking about, and he’ll make it better. Starting with his tongue.

You press your hands to the mattress as you start to raise your torso from the bed, and almost immediately at the shifting of your weight, Joel’s hand shoots out to grab you.

‘Where you goin’, pretty girl?’

You smile, smug. So he's awake. And you know, with his grip like this, you’ll get anything you want from him.

‘Coffee,’ you say, leaning over to press a lingering kiss to his soft lips. He returns it, eyes still shut, hand shifting from your forearm to your bicep, to your shoulder, to the back of your neck. He holds you there as he draws his tongue across the seam of your lips, and with a groan you let him in. The bristle of his moustache tickles as he licks into your mouth, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth as his free hand skates between the sheets to skim over your bare thigh. You shift against him, bringing your calf over both of his legs. The movement brings his hand forwards, dipping between your legs to trace two fingers up through your drenched cunt. You moan loudly against him, and Joel chuckles.

‘Last night not enough for you, little girl?’

You hum against him, shaking your head. He retracts his fingers.

‘Words, baby.’ He reminds you.

‘No, da-’ you start, but as soon as your lips part he has his fingers on your tongue. On instinct, your eyes flutter shut and you suck them, swirling your tongue over the thick digits, savouring the taste of you both.

‘Rude to talk with your mouthful, sweet pea,’ he murmurs, ‘Somebody oughta fuck some manners into ya.’

With his fingers still in your mouth, Joel turns you onto your back, bracing himself away from you to watch you continue to suckle on his fingers. He pushes them further back, further, further, only to watch you begin to gag around him.

‘Good girl,’ he says, withdrawing them, spit-slick, before bringing them back to your pussy. He watches your face as he pushes them easily inside, the crease between your brows, the way your jaw slackens, the way your eyes widen as he curls them into your sweet spot. He nods, pleased. ‘Think you’re wet enough to take me already, baby,’ he says, swiping them over your clit. You jolt, moaning again at the feeling. ‘What do you think?’

‘Yeah, daddy,’ you sigh, ‘Ready for you.’

Joel chuckles.

‘Always so ready f'me, isn’t she, princess?’ He says, lining himself up at your entrance, gripping your jaw to keep your eyes on him. He doesn’t expect an answer this time. ‘Yeah, always dripping for me, aren’t you? Poor baby girl. Poor baby girl and her messy little pussy.’ 

He feeds his cock to you slowly, so slowly. You whine and arch against him as he does, brain trickling away from you, already so given in to the sensation; mind deliciously blank, nails scratching at his forearms as he cages you in, thrusting deep, bottoming out. When he sees your eyes roll back, he picks up his pace smoothly, thrusting faster and harder, deeper. You moan out a long daddy, and he huffs in amusement.

‘Does daddy feel good, sweet girl?’

You gasp out a yes, fuck, daddy, and he hums in response.

'There she is,’ he says, ‘Didn’t need coffee, did ya, baby? Just wanted daddy. Just needed your daddy, hm?’ You nod furiously, tongue loosened by the heavy weight of him inside you, babbling away about how good he feels, how deep, how big he is. You lock your ankles around the bottom of his spine to pull him closer, and he groans, head dipping to yours. ‘Yeah,’ he breathes, ‘You take what you need, baby. Just wanna get fucked, huh? Woke up dreamin’ a me? Dreamin’ a me fuckin’ you full of my cum again, babygirl?’

You moan again, neck pulling taught as you arch further, pull him in deeper. The coil deep in your belly tightens, jaw clenching as you scratch at him, as you tug the hair at the nape of his neck.

‘Poor baby, can’t even get her words out,’ he coos, and like he wants to prove his point, he pushes even deeper, tip kissing your cervix, the bruising feeling making you gasp, making you plead, making you beg as you try and move your hips away from him. He brings his hand away from your face to your waist, keeping you in place.

‘Relax, sweetheart,’ he smiles, rocking in and out of you again, ‘I know you can take it, just relax f'me. That’s a good girl. I know it’s big but you can take it.’ 

You clench around him, painfully, try to mumble out how close you are, but you can’t even summon the words. In this room, he is all you can see, all you can hear, all you can feel. The slickness of it, the heat, the burning pleasure rising inside you as you writhe beneath him.

‘I know, baby, I know,’ he murmurs, ‘You’re close already, huh?’ You hum, body tight, so close, so close, head so empty. ‘Yeah, you are. Fuck, love when you get all stupid on me like this. You like getting fucked dumb on daddy’s cock, baby? Can you feel me all the way in here, sweetheart?’ he asks, moving the hand on your waist to press against your lower stomach. You clench harder as he presses down, the coil tightening, spiralling, and you’re right there - ‘Wish you could fuckin’ see yourself right now, baby. Wish you could see how pretty ya look getting fucked. You like being watched, don’t ya, darlin’? Yeah. Want Santi and Francisco to watch again, baby?’ You gasp at his words, surprised, vision blurring, hurtling towards your climax, the build up scorching, impossibly long. ‘Sure you do. Or d'you want Santi to fuck you again, make you scream his name while he’s inside you, huh?’

Fuck, okay. Okay -

‘Yes, daddy -’ you breathe, pussy fluttering around him, the beginnings of your orgasm.

‘Santi? Or is it Frankie, baby? You want his mouth on you, want to feel him stretch you open? He’s big, isn’t he? Wanna see how he feels, if he fits like me?’

He is, you remember, he is, and you could try. If you can take Joel, you can take Frankie, and oh, what a thought -

Your body pulls tighter, aching, painful, and you cry out.

‘Shit -’ you moan, ‘Shit, Joel, I’m -’ 

‘Come, babygirl,’ he tells you. ‘Come all over my cock, princess. Get it nice and wet, just how daddy likes it.’

You burst aflame beneath him with a shout, body jerking as you hiss and gasp, gripping him to you as he fucks you through it. You whimper with every thrust as he keeps talking through gritted teeth, thrusting harder.

‘Yeah, that’s it. So sweet, baby. Good fuckin’ girl. You want them again, darlin’? Want to play with 'em? Want to watch 'em play with your daddy?’

A needy whine slips past your lips as you picture it; Frankie on his knees, Santi on all fours, and you grow even wetter at the thought, the slick of your orgasm and Joel’s words making the prettiest noises.

‘She likes that,’ Joel says, almost to himself, ‘Yeah, she likes that. Dirty girl. Dirty girl, wanting all three of us, wanting to watch, hm? Wanna touch, baby? Wanna see how it feels?’ He looks so fucked out on top of you that even you’re not sure if he knows what he’s saying, what he’s asking you. But you gasp out a yes anyway, something warm and quick trickling up your spine, tightening your cunt again.

‘Another one,’ he grunts, ‘Another one, darlin’, and I’ll give you what you want.’ 

You don’t need to be told twice. Your second orgasm rips through you lightning fast and white-hot, so good that you hear ringing in your ears, so tight that Joel stutters inside of you, groaning, breathing your name as he pumps and spills and twitches. You’re both breathing so heavily that it’s all you can do to lie there, licking your lips as Joel pulls out with a moan and flops beside you. A breathless little giggle escapes your parted lips.

Joel reaches across your body and tugs you by the arm until you’re nestled into his side. Too hot, too breathless, but you breathe him in all the same, tracing patterns on his chest.

The room is quiet as you both come down from your highs, your eyes falling closed as Joel presses a kiss to your hairline. Your brain tries its best not to think, not to read into it, but even through the exhaustion, his words come back to you.

Watch, touch. 

You have to know. You have to ask, now, want to know, want it, want it, want it -

‘Do you - do you want to do it again?’ You stutter.

Joel puffs out a laugh to the ceiling.

‘You’re gonna have to give me at least ten minutes, baby.’

You laugh and nudge his side with your fist.

‘No,’ you smile, ‘No. The - the thing you said, about that night -’

He raises an eyebrow, and you bare your teeth awkwardly. 

'You know - that night.'

‘Mm?’ Tease.

You lean further onto his chest and take his skin gently between your teeth. You nip, and he relents. You lean back slightly to look at him.

Joel smiles at you, crooks his head so he can nibble at your ear lobe.

‘Baby, I’d love to.’

The sound that leaves your lips is obscene, and you don’t care. Fuck, the thought of it. The three of them together, the four of you together.

‘All we gotta do is send the text,’ he says, ‘Could send it now and they’d be here in the hour.’ He chuckles. One of his hands moves down to your thigh, hooking it over his hip before moving to your ass to rock you against him. You groan into his shoulder. Your next question leaves your lips before you can even stop it.

‘Did you - did you mean what you said, about you and Santi and Frankie?’ You ask. It sounds clumsy, almost like you shouldn’t be asking. Fuck, maybe you should have waited for him to bring it up. You tense, waiting for his reaction.

Joel opens his eyes again with a small smirk, peeking down at you down his aquiline nose. His movements still.

‘Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.’

You draw a quick breath and hold him closer. You won’t ask anymore questions. Try to push away thoughts of what Joel could do with his hands, his mouth, his cock, of what the two other men could do with theirs, what it would be like to watch, what it would be like to feel -

‘I’ve never… I’ve never done it before.’ Joel says, quietly. 

You pull back from his chest and watch him watch you. His dark eyes are honest, wary, and a question forms on your lips. He said he had been with multiple people in the past, it was something he’d done, something he was clear he had enjoyed -

‘With a man. I’ve never… done anything with a guy.’

Your stomach swoops at his nervousness. You feel your brow crease, a hand reaching up to touch his cheek.

‘That’s okay,’ you whisper, ‘That’s… I didn’t realise, that’s all. ‘M sorry if I pushed you.’

Joel shakes his head. He hums beneath you, a deep rumble in his chest. 

‘Y’didn’t. You ain’t.’ 

You stroke your thumb along the patches of his beard.

‘Do you… want to talk about it?’

Joel closes his eyes again, takes a deep breath. 

‘I’ve thought about it. For a while. Watching people, watching you. I’m… curious.’

You nod, even though he can’t see you.

‘That’s normal, baby,’ you whisper, ‘So normal.’

Your mind flashes back, back to how tender he was with you, with Frankie. His warmth towards Pope as the four of you cleaned up afterwards, as you dressed in the comfiest clothes you could find. The way his eyes lingered on your body, Santi’s body, Frankie’s, the curiosity you glimpsed as you snacked and rehydrated, the goodbyes as they slipped out the door.

It makes sense.

And it’s even better to know that all this time you’ve been imagining it, he has, too.

‘I’d like to try it,’ he says, blinking at you. ‘With them. With you. If that’s okay?’

You clutch his face tighter, tender, warmth blooming in your chest at his trust. You smile wide at him, and he visibly relaxes. Tears threaten in your eyes.

‘Yes,’ you breathe, ‘Yes. Of course it is. I… it’d be more than okay.’

He swallows.

‘You sure?’

You untangle yourself from him as much as possible, but he keeps an iron grip on your waist. You settle on your elbow.

‘Of course I’m sure, baby,’ you soothe, ‘Of course I am. I’m glad you told me. It’d be - it’d be an honour - it’s very brave of you to -’

Joel cuts you off with a snort, pulling you roughly back against him. He holds you tight within his grasp.

‘Very brave -’ he chuckles.

‘It is,’ you insist, muffled against his chest, ‘It is, and if there’s anything you want to try -’

He pulls you up so your face is level with his, and shuts you up with a firm kiss. And when you lick him a little while later, tongue pressed up, pressing in to his tight ring of muscle, you find that there is plenty he wants to try.

And plenty you want to help him with.

———

Will greets you first at the bar that evening, and you quickly lose yourself to the rhythm of the night.

The five of you are tucked back into your usual booth, bottles and glasses crowding the table, the noise of other patrons bringing you closer together, knees knocking, hands over forearms to claw yourself further into the conversation. You talk for hours, work tales being swapped, gossip about old friends, former lovers. Will and Benny seem particularly interested in your romance with Joel, and you happily fill them in, telling them about the barbeque you had round Tommy and Maria’s, how you’re meeting Sarah next time she’s home from college, and how Joel will be away on a contract next week. Frankie and Santi listen in with gleaming eyes, half-smiles of their own, sharing secrets across the table that only you are privy to. It makes your stomach tighten, your panties damp.

And the way Frankie watches you, it’s like he knows.

Seats are switched throughout the night after bathroom breaks and drinks collections, but Pope always finds a way to be close to you - a hand on your thigh, a squeeze of your palm, the press of his shoulder against yours. He stacks a small pile of peanuts on the table between the two of you, hidden behind a glass, and at any opportune moment you can, you take turns flicking them at Will or Benny. With every small, yellow projectile that smacks against their chests, arms, sometimes even faces, Frankie racks up a tally on a napkin. The game is all but lost when Benny looks at up the ceiling and asks in disbelief whether it’s raining fucking peanuts, and you and Santi collapse into fits of giggles. Benny stares at you in blank confusion, furthered by Will’s growing rumble of laughter - until he finally fixes stoic Frankie with a betrayed look, noticing the tally half-hidden by his palm, and cries out an accusatory -

‘Is that you?’ Which sends Frankie over the edge, too. 

When places switch again, Will makes sure to gather you in a headlock in his strong arms and grind his knuckles roughly into your scalp. You yelp with laughter, giggling against each other, sinking into the dirty leather as Will muses on how much of a bastard you are, wondering out loud how your skills as a former bartender allowed you to outsmart ex-Delta Force operators.

Frankie watches with his usual boyish charm, his eyes crinkling at the edges, warm and molten and wanting when they meet yours. Your tongue burns with the things you want to tell him, with what you and Joel had discussed, eventually in great detail, in bed at home. But you bite the words back, knowing what is and what isn't yours to share. Instead, you lean into Santi’s touch, scraping your nails along his jeans until he shifts uncomfortably in his seat, biting his lip in a wicked grin. He excuses himself soon after, and with his departure, Benny calls for a round of pool.

He’s already slipping out of the booth before you can protest, Will following closely behind. Frankie steps out, too, rounding your side and holding out a hand for you. You accept it, stepping out in front of him so you’re pressed chest to chest. He lifts his palm to your cheek, leaning in to press a kiss to your hairline. You press his bicep in thanks before turning back to the table, hinging at your hips to grab both his drink and yours, taking extra care to subtly grind your ass into his crotch. His palm comes to rest at the top of your thigh, holding you there for just a moment, before moving to your waist. You turn back to him.  He leans in close.

‘I don’t know what you’re trying to do to us tonight, hermosa,’ he breathes into the conch of your ear, ‘But it’s working.’

You grin at him as he moves his hand from your waist to the plush flesh of your ass, squeezing gently before letting go. You take a sip from your beer, reaching up to take the cap from his curls and nestling it backwards on your own head. 

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

His answering smile is dirty, thrilling, and he follows you as if on a leash to the pool table the brothers have secured.

Santi joins you soon afterwards, his cheeks a little flushed, a fresh drink in his hand. You’re split off into the most unfair teams possible; Will, Benny, and Frankie taking one cue, and you and Pope with the other. Frankie racks up the balls with swift, deft movements, taking the cue easily in his massive hands, the wood resting between his thick fingers. You feel your body warm as you watch him, still wearing his cap, trying to squeeze your thighs together inconspicuously. You bring your cool bottle to your neck as Pope winds an arm around you, letting his hand settle at your hip, stroking and pinching the flesh there. You don’t look at him, but you sigh deeply, and he lets his head knock against yours, pleased. With Frankie shooting first, there’s no great rush to grab your cue and be prepared. 

You watch as he pots ball after ball, mouth curving in a playful scowl as he shoots you a grin after each one, moving around the table with so much grace and ease that it starts to make you a little dizzy. Benny and Will cheer him on with loud hoots and shouts, and Pope makes sure the two of you boo him like a pantomime villain with every flick of his wrist. When he finally fails to sink a shot, Pope passes you the cue, and you take your time lowering yourself to press your chest to the green felt, inhaling deeply. You’re warm, relaxed, a little buzzed, more than a little horny. You wiggle your ass a little, and Will laughs, shouting something about how your distraction technique won’t work, and he’s right. It quickly backfires when Frankie sweeps around the table, pressing one half of his body over yours as he directs you on how to hold the cue, how to position it, how to cradle it in your fingers like he does. When he’s sure you’ve got it, he breathes into your ear for you to pull your elbow back with just the right amount of leverage, and you try to ignore the goosebumps that break out along your neck and shoulder.

‘You’re ready,’ he whispers, and just as you begin to snap your wrist forwards, he presses his firm cock into your thigh.

Your quick inhale stutters your movement, and you watch as the tip of the cue just catches the edge of the ball, sending it spinning off into a barren corner of the table. You stand and spin to Frankie.

‘You asshole!’ you cry, indignant and hot, pointing a finger at him as he snatches his cap back from your head and retreats. ‘You - jogged me!’ Frankie spreads his hands in front of him, pouting, his bulge only just covered by the front of his button up.

‘I tried my best.’ He grins.

‘Don’t worry about it, kid,’ Will calls from the other side of the table, ‘Fish is known for being good with his hands. Even when he uses them for evil.’ 

The men laugh as Frankie flushes, knocking his fist into Will’s belly. Despite yourself, you laugh with them, enjoying watching him flustered as Will gasps out his laughter. Pope leans in close to whisper in your ear.

‘Good with his mouth, too.’ And all the air is sucked from your lungs as you feel your own face heat. Santi laughs louder next to you, taking the cue from your hands so you can grasp your bottle instead. You watch as Benny misfires, then Pope, still giggling at his own joke, before Frankie takes over again, sinking each one until only the white remains. Not that you notice, finding yourself now caught up in the way he bites and wets his lips, how plush they look, how they’d feel pressed to your thighs, your tits, your clit -

Benny snaps his fingers in front of your eyes, waving you back to reality.

‘Ground control to Major Loser,’ he grins, ‘Frankie whooped your ass, in case you weren't paying attention. It’s your round.’ 

You scoff playfully at him, whirling on your heel back towards the bar, but not before catching Pope’s eye again as he smirks at you, leaning against the table next to Frankie.

You flip them off as you work your way through the crowd.

When Frankie parks his truck outside Joel’s, all the lights in the house are off. 

You unbuckle your seatbelt, and Frankie eyes the front door a little warily, eyes narrowing at the distance between. You giggle at him.

‘Frankie, baby, the boogeyman is not going to get me in the space between your truck and the door.’

He frowns at you all the same before unbuckling his own seatbelt and jumping out the driver’s side. You roll your eyes at him as he bounds round the front of the truck, swinging your door open and helping you out. He grins at you.

‘I know,’ he says, ‘I know, just - let me do it. Humour me.’

He swings your hands between you as you walk up the front yard, and you try to stifle your giggles as you slot the spare key into the lock. It’s unlike Joel to not wait up for you, but you’d made sure to tucker him out before you’d left. You’re glad he’s finally getting the rest he needed. 

The door swings open in front of you into yawning darkness, and Frankie gives your hip a squeeze. 

‘You’re sure Joel’s home?’ he asks. 

‘Yeah,’ you nod, flicking the hallway light on. ‘He’s probably just asleep. It’s late, and -’

‘You probably spent the first half of the day making him see God, I suppose.’ He finishes for you. You smack his chest when you see his shit-eating grin, but aren’t able to wipe your own from your lips. 

‘Obviously.’ You smirk.

Frankie laughs quietly as you shut the front door behind him, letting his hands wander from your hip to your waist, up and down the span of your back, pulling you towards him. You can still feel him, warm and half hard against you, and a soft moan slips from your mouth in response to his small grind. He smiles again, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your skull to his chest as he rocks you back and forth, letting you feel everything while having nothing. Your own hands clutch at his shirt, shifting it higher so you can splay your palms over his bare abdomen. He looks down at you with soft, lazy eyes, and for a moment, you’re sure you’re going to kiss him. And when he leans in to whisper in your ear, you’re sure you’re going to wake Joel up and beg for him to take the two of you now. But instead, Frankie asks in a whisper -

‘Do you think Joel’d mind if I used his bathroom?’

You snort a laugh, pushing yourself away from him, and he giggles back at you.

‘Of course not,’ you say, pointing off down the hallway. ‘Just up there. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.’

He salutes as he backs away, almost knocking into the bannister of the stairs, and you have to clap your hands over your mouth to keep from laughing too loud. You step quietly into the kitchen to pour two glasses of water, but only get as far as reaching up into the cupboard when there are soft footsteps behind you. You grin, about to tease Frankie for not being able to find the bathroom on his own before warm, calloused hands are on you. Shameless, needy, groping up your top, tugging your bra down, cupping your breasts, tweaking your nipples.

Your body goes quickly liquid at the familiar touch, all smart quips dying in your throat as Joel ruts against you from behind, the weight of his hard cock hot and firm against your ass, barely disguised by his grey sweatpants. Your hands come to grip at the countertop, and you try to get the words out to tell him not now, Frankie’s here, but all that escapes is a moan. 

‘’M glad you’re home, baby,’ he growls in your ear, fingers making quick work of your button and zipper. ‘Missed you. Dreamed of you. Did ya miss me, too?’ as he tugs your jeans down to the tops of your thighs.

‘Joel -’ you breathe, but you’re too slow, unable to process anything beyond the fingers he dips into your panties. Usually you love him like this, swaddled in sleep, desperate to bury himself inside you, and you’d let him take you anywhere, but not right here, not right now. Your body continues to betray you, pulsing out more of the slick that has kept your underwear damp all night - the touches beneath the table, the pressure of Frankie’s cock against your thigh during pool, him pressed up against you in the doorway. Everything you’d done with Joel earlier in the day, the way he’d come apart with your tongue and your fingers, the way he’d eaten you to the point of tears, all coming together to show him how you glisten in the low light of the kitchen. The two of you are insatiable, and he groans against you, offering you his fingers to suckle as he pulls the waistband of your panties down to join your jeans. You try to mumble out around him again - Joel, wait - but he’s too fast as he sinks himself inside of you, and every thought, every word, is wiped from your brain. 

He sets a punishing pace from the off, and you take it easily, cheek pressed into the marble, head turned away from the door as you drool and whimper around him. The thick, heavy slide of his cock, covered in your slick, the wet sounds, the soft moans and pants that ricochet around the kitchen, and when he swirls a finger around your clit, your own sharp gasp heaves you to life.

‘Joel, wait - Frankie - Frankie’s here -’

But it’s too late, far too late, you realise, when you turn your head to the other side to find Frankie already stood in the entryway, leant against the frame like he’s been silently engaging you in casual conversation. Except he looks ravenous.

Joel groans from above you, tip kissing your cervix as he pumps in and out, fingers twitching over your clit to feel you tighten around him.

‘I know, baby,’ he groans, ‘He’s watchin’. See how he’s watchin’ you?’

It’s almost impossible to look, to watch Frankie take you in. The throb of Joel’s cock inside you, his fingers, the tightening knot that threatens to burst already, it’s making it hard to keep your eyes open.

‘That what you want, hermosa?’ Frankie asks.

You nod furiously against the marble, biting back a sob as your knees begin to give way, as you tighten, tighten, tighten, as your core locks down, your pussy growing hotter and wetter. Fuck, all that thinking, all that teasing means the build up has happened so impossibly fast, and you stumble towards the edge of the cliff already, aching for the fall.

‘Just like we said, huh?’ Joel hums. ‘You wanna be watched, don’t ya, baby girl?’ 

‘Yes - daddy -’ you choke out, and he hums again, this time speaking to Frankie.

‘Hear that? Want you to watch. Be a good boy, and watch.’ 

Frankie nods quickly, every bit the soldier; his jaw set, eyes black, curls peeking out from under his cap. In this moment, he doesn’t look like your Frankie. He looks cool, almost detached if not for the burning of his eyes. And he watches every movement, every part of your skin Joel touches, everything that is revealed to him, like he’s trying to commit it to absolute memory. The sounds, the way Joel’s cock glistens as it stretches out of you, the breath that is punched from your lungs as he pushes back in. It’s like it’s the first time he’s seen this happen.

But then, you realise, it is. 

This is the quiet, obedient Frankie who kneeled behind the door. The Frankie who didn’t move an inch, the Frankie who could do nothing but listen as the three of you fucked each other. The Frankie who curled himself over your hand as he came, hot shocks of arousal and humiliation rocking his body. And now, he gets to watch. 

But oh, how you wish he could touch. How you wish he’d come closer, away from the doorframe, how you wish he’d run his hands over your body, undress you, hold you, lick and suck and kiss you, how he could fuck your mouth as Joel fucked your tight cunt until your throat was raw, how you’d take him so deep, as deep as you could, until there would be nothing left, nothing more for you to feel or think about than what went on beyond the two men and you. You watch as his eyes rake over Joel, over you. How they track every movement, the curl of Joel’s fingers against your clit, how you gasp and choke, how Joel grits his teeth as he pounds into you, getting close now, feeling you tighten and leak and flutter around him, bunching your shirt up your back so he can press a hot kiss to your spine.

‘Give it to me,’ he groans, ‘Give it to me, baby, come on. You’ve got it, you can do it. Come for me.’

You heave a broken, high pitched whine at his words, and Frankie’s eyes snap to yours. His lips part in a breath, his only visible reaction, but it’s enough. Like the command has slipped from his lips too, your vision whitens and your back arches, fingers scrabbling against the smooth surface beneath you as you constrict so tightly around Joel you can feel the way you have to stretch again to take him in.

‘Good girl,’ he groans, ‘Such a good girl. So pretty, baby, so good. Now, tell me - tell me where you want it -’

You moan again, eyes flicking back to Frankie when they roll from the back of your skull. The thought crosses your mind, but you can’t find the words, can’t feel your legs, only the grip of Joel's fingers as he changes tack - ‘Tell me, or I’ll decide.’

You gasp out a fuck, forehead pressed against the counter, trying to decide whether you’re brave enough to say it, brave enough to ask -

‘Please -’

But it doesn’t come from you. You roll your head on the marble to find Frankie stepping slowly into the kitchen, cheeks pink, chest rising and falling quickly. 

‘I can - let me help -’ Fuck. Fuck. You try to twist to gauge Joel's reaction, but his mind is made up so quickly you only get the chance to feel desperately empty before he tells Frankie to kneel.

The younger man drops to his knees beside you m, in front of Joel, chest heaving now, tongue darting out to lick his lips nervously - and you want to kiss him. You want to kiss him so bad, but the thought is quickly whisked away as Joel steps closer, fisting his thick cock in his hand.

‘You want this?’ He grits. Frankie nods eagerly, transfixed by the man above him, eyes flicking between Joel’s and the swollen head of his cock, soaked with your slick and cum, dribbling the precursor of Joel’s own release. ‘Show me.’

Frankie’s mouth falls open instantly, his tongue sliding past his lips to welcome the tip of Joel’s cock. You moan, knees finally giving out, landing next to Frankie. He doesn’t take his eyes off Joel.

The older man gasps out a curse at the sight, before ropes of thick, milky cum spurt from his tip onto Frankie’s tongue, filling his mouth, weaker pulses landing on his chin as Joel squeezes the last of his release out. You tear your eyes from Frankie to the man above you, the way he pants, eyes aflame, jaw slack.

‘Swallow.’

You whip back round to Frankie to see his throat bob as he follows the instruction, and he opens his mouth again to show Joel that he’s done exactly as he asked.

‘Good boy,’ he drawls, swiping a thumb against his chin to collect the remnants of his spend before offering it to you. You open your mouth just as eagerly, but Joel seems to think twice. He spreads it across one cheek, and then the other, painting you, before placing the digit firmly on your tongue, allowing your tongue to lathe the taste of him from the pad. Frankie leans towards you, and then you feel his tongue, warm and wet against your cheek, licking away at the cum that Joel spread there. Joel chuckles at him.

‘Desperate for more.’ 

Frankie hums against you, tongue now flicking at the corner of your lips. Joel raises an eyebrow at you.

‘What are you waiting for, sweetheart?’ he purrs, ‘Show Frankie how well he did.’

You twist your head to Frankie’s, one hand going to the back of his head, fisting his curls, the other tracing the waistband of his jeans, eager fingers feeling the warm skin there, trying to touch further, trying to reach him. You lick into his mouth, tongue grazing his teeth as you palm him over the denim, and he moans against you. You retract your hand from his curls and start at his fly before a sharp, trilling noise makes you flinch back. His phone rings in his back pocket.

‘Ignore it, don’t worry about it,’ he says, pulling you back towards him, his mouth soft and urgent against yours, your fingers clumsy at the front of his jeans, twisting in the material, against metal, and fuck -

‘Why do you have so many fucking buttons?’

He laughs, breathy, exasperated into your hair.

‘It’s the - it’s the fucking style - there’s no zipper, it’s just buttons -’

You giggle as well, the ringing of his phone chiming off as you hear Joel say ‘just buttons?’ from behind you.

You manage to get two undone before his phone begins to ring again, and this time he breaks the kiss to drag it out off his pocket and silence it. He glances at the screen, hisses a fuck, and bites his bottom lip. You stall your movements, frowning at him.

‘You okay?’

‘One sec -’

He declines the call, but you see he’s missed messages as well. His brow pulls tighter as he reads them, and he scrubs an irritated hand over his face before looking back at you, his eyes dark, apologetic, pissed off.

‘I gotta go,’ he says, forehead knocking against yours before he’s wobbling to his feet, breathless, ‘I gotta - it’s Benny, I don’t know - I don’t know what it is, but -’ His phone pings with another text, and he breathes out a fuck’s sake. ‘I’m sorry -’

‘Hey,’ Joel says softly, and you look back up at him. He still looks as wrecked as before, but he’s straightened himself out and his gaze is softened by concern. Without looking, he holds a hand out to pull you up off the floor, and you gratefully accept, pulling up your jeans. ‘It’s okay, really, it’s okay. Don’t be sorry - what’s happened?’

Frankie relaxes, exhales.

‘Bar fight. Benny and Will were still there when we left. Looks like Benny’s managed to piss the wrong people off.’ he pauses. ‘Again.’ 

Joel chuckles, lands a hand on his shoulder.

‘Got a little brother just like it. You want us to come with?’

Frankie looks from you to Joel, and shakes his head.

‘No,’ he smiles, ‘Thanks, that’s alright. Can’t be getting distracted on my way there. Won’t be much help in jail.’

You grin at him, straightening his shirt, his curls, and he lets you fuss. You swipe your thumb at the corner of his mouth, and he flushes. 

‘Are you sure?’ You ask.

He huffs a laugh, adjusting himself through his jeans, and you pout a little at his discomfort.

‘No,’ he admits, ‘But I’ll be alright. Honestly.’

‘Okay,’ you say, ‘Okay.’

He smiles again, dipping to kiss your cheek before shyly, hesitantly doing the same to Joel. You watch the smile that blooms across the older man’s lips before you find yourself mirroring it. 

‘I’ll walk you to your truck.’ Joel says. Frankie nods gratefully, and you hum as Joel squeezes your waist before heading towards the front door. 

‘See you next time, baby.’ You murmur to Frankie.

‘Next time.’ He whispers back, grinning and turning to follow Joel. He makes it to the open doorway before you remember.

‘Frankie -’ you call, and he turns, framed by the night behind him. You make a motion at your crotch, and he cocks his head at you. ‘Buttons.’ You stage-whisper, and he laughs as he adjusts himself, refastening the two you managed to get undone.

‘See you soon, hermosa,’ he says softly, and you smile as he follows Joel out to his truck.

You can’t sleep.

You’d bored quickly of tossing and turning, Joel dead to the world beside you, and had slunk downstairs for a glass of water. There’s a niggling feeling in your chest, something left unsatisfied. Guilty that, yet again, Frankie had not been given what he deserved, guilty that you hadn’t had time to see it through. And you just want to know if he’s okay, if he’s safe. You shoot him a text, leant against the marble he had watched you get fucked over less than two hours ago. Just a quick hey, are you okay?

You bite at your thumb, tap out another one - did you get home safe? He replies almost instantly.

Hey. I did. All good. I’m great. Had a great time

Then -

Thank you

You chew your lip a while, frowning, trying to work out if you believe him or not. God, texting sucks. Maybe you should call. You should call, just to check, even though he stayed, even though he watched, even though he said yes, even with the text -

But Frankie takes the decision from you with the next message, a voicenote minutes long. You wind yourself up for whatever it could possibly be, but nothing prepares you for the breathy moan that emanates loudly from your phone, so surprised that you almost drop the device. It’s followed by another, and the slick sound of what you can only assume to be Frankie’s fist fucking his cock, filtered through his quick, hot breaths. You close your eyes in rapt attention, dropping a hand to cup your sex as you listen to him whimper, as you listen to him whisper how good it feels, how he wants you, how he can still taste Joel in his mouth, how he’s about to come, how he’s coming - 

It takes you an embarrassingly short amount of time to follow him, chest heaving against the cool marble of the counter top, legs shaky as you stand up right.

There’s not a peep from upstairs. You decide to let Joel sleep this one out.

You’ll send him the audio in the morning.

———

Work is slow, and is only sped up by being, in Joel’s words, an insufferable tease.

You’d bounded around the bedroom this morning, still secretly thrilled with the voicenote from last night, not heeding Joel’s pleas to come back to bed as he watched you don his favourite matching set, stockings, a tight little pencil skirt and blouse, before pressing a deep, lingering kiss to his mouth and floating out the door to work. You made sure to send him a pretty little picture of your dripping cunt on your lunch break, quickly followed by Frankie’s voicenote, and to your delight, receive a video of him coming hard in return.

You bite your lip, squirming at your desk, sure you’ll soak through your skirt when he sends you a follow up message soon after.

You got plans tonight?

No? You shoot back.

Good. Stay free, baby

And oh, you don’t plan on being anything but before he leaves tomorrow.

———

When you get home from work, Joel is waiting. 

Waiting conspicuously in a pressed white dress shirt and slacks, a couple buttons undone so you’re greeted with the warm sight of his chest as he opens the door. He looks… divine. And he smells just as good, too. You press your lips to his quickly.

‘You look gorgeous,’ you smile, palm against his chest, one hand on his cheek to smooth the hair of his moustache. ‘What’s the occasion?’

‘Come upstairs,’ he says, smiling. ‘I wanna show you something.’

You raise an eyebrow, all manner of possibilities flashing through your mind before you drop your bag in the hallway and take his outstretched hand.

With one hand on your hip and another over your eyes, Joel guides you towards the bed. His fingers are warm and clammy over your eyelids, and you giggle as you both stumble forwards, the shadow of a bitten laugh trickling into your ear from behind you. 

‘What are you doing?’ 

‘One more second, ‘n you’ll find out.’

Joel brings you to a gentle stop before positioning you at just the angle he wants before taking his hand away from your face. He chuckles to find your eyes still squeezed shut. 

‘Open your eyes, baby.’

You blink them open, taking a long moment to realise what it is he’s showing you.

Laid out on the bed is a beautiful short and silken black dress. 

A short breath bursts from your lips as you step forwards to take the hem delicately in your fingers. 

‘Joel…’ you whisper, accusatory. It feels like water, so luxurious beneath your fingertips that you want to scold him for buying it. But when you turn and find his eyes bright, excited, soft, the guilt dies easily in your chest. ‘It’s beautiful.’

He shrugs, trying to disguise how pleased he is with your reaction. 

You step back towards him, taking his face in your hands, pressing kisses anywhere you can. 

‘Thank you,’ you murmur, ‘Thank you, baby, thank you. You really didn’t have to, but thank you.’

He scoffs lightly against your lips, hands gripping your hips again. 

‘’Course I did,’ he grins. A dirty, secret little thing. ‘You needed something to wear for tonight.’

A worry tugs in your chest. Tonight? Have you forgotten something? Fuck - should you have bought him something, too? It can’t be the anniversary of anything, you haven’t even -

As though he’s read your thoughts, Joel pulls you closer, one hand drifting lower to palm your ass. 

‘We’re going on a date.’

‘A date?’

Mhm, he hums against your mouth. 

‘Surprise date.’

‘You bought this for a date?’

You give him your most serious look, head tilted, movements stilled. Pink flushes up from beneath his shirt collar. 

‘Yeah, darlin’. Special dress for a special girl.’

You frown a little. 

‘Where are we going where I’ll need to dress like that?’

Joel bites his lip. 

‘Nice restaurant. We’re all getting dressed up.’

‘All?’

Joel extracts himself from your fingers, moving to fix his slicked back hair.

‘Joel. All?’

He shrugs again, looks at you over his shoulder in the mirror. 

‘I had some help choosing the dress.’

Fuck. Fuck. Heat flashes between your thighs so quickly that you sit down heavily on the edge of the mattress. Joel smirks at you through the glass as you try and regulate your breathing. Your heart thrums in your chest as the thoughts clash through your head - Frankie on his knees behind the door, his wide, hungry eyes, Frankie on his knees in front of Joel, the drip of your cunt onto the floor, the full, overwhelming feeling of Joel claiming you after Santi, Santi’s fingers on your jaw, you look at your daddy when you come for me -

Joel squats down in front of you, his knees popping, two fingers lifting your chin. 

‘Need to get ready, sugar,’ he drawls, ‘Rude to keep the boys waiting.’

You suck in a hot breath, eyes glazed, body warm and fluid already. 

‘Are - are they coming back here?’

‘Not tonight,’ he murmurs. ‘Want you to myself before I head out in the morning.’

He stands as you blink up at him, a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth

‘Soon, baby,’ he reassures, ‘You’ll have us soon.’

———

Joel holds your hand as you descend the marble steps into the sunken restaurant. It’s gorgeous - classy - maybe a little too much, but you can’t find the wherewithal to care when he leads you to your table. Frankie and Santi are already seated and looking equally as handsome. They stand as you approach, Frankie flushing as he takes you in, kissing your cheek, Pope letting out a low whistle as he does the same.

You talk over glasses of wine, nibbles of bread, and your starter course; conversation often interrupted by anecdotes and jokes and observations of other patrons that definitely could have waited til later. Joel fills the boys in on the contract he’ll be away on up in Tulsa until late next week, and Pope says he will be flying back to Colombia for a few days to straighten out a couple loose ends with his last contract. You frown at him, having not been aware of this most recent development, but he’s quick to assure you that it is just that. Paperwork and documents he needs to ensure can be sealed away, picking up a couple of things from the Embassy, catching up with a couple of old colleagues, and then heading home. The boys never really talk about exactly what went down those years ago when they lost Tom, and frankly you’re not sure if you want to know. From what they have said, it was rash, greedy, and all but fucked from the start. Not something you’re particularly keen on imagining. But you’re glad that, this time, he’ll be safe and keeping away from it.

Joel and Santi share a glance over your head, and you realise you should have known. Should have known they’d be plotting and scheming.

It doesn’t take as long as it did the first time to set out the rules.

With the older men away, you and Frankie are free to spend your time as you see fit. Neither of you need to be looked after, neither of you need to be kept an eye on, but Santi and Joel phrase the opportunity to spend time together as more of a challenge. To see how you can work each other up, how well you can behave without either of them there to tell you what to do and how to do it. You’re grinning into your wine as you imagine it, all of the things you can do without actually fucking, until Joel halts your train of thought.

‘There’s one rule,’ he says. You pause mid-sip. He spears a piece of asparagus with his fork, bringing it to his mouth. ‘You can’t touch each other.’

You swallow, confused, looking across to Frankie, who is suddenly unable to meet your eye, and then to Pope, who watches the two of you with a cruelly delighted smirk.

‘We - what?’ You ask, confused.

‘Can’t touch,’ Joel says again, ‘’s your only rule. Dinner, drinks, movies, hell, sleepin’ in the same bed is fine. You just can’t touch.’ 

You stare at him. This is it. He’s lost his damn mind. 

‘Little challenge for you, baby girl,’ he says, ‘I know Frankie can do it. This one’s for you.’

You open your mouth, about to protest how that can’t possibly be fair before snapping your jaw closed again. Joel watches, amused. This is not an argument you will win.

‘Fine.’ You say, even as Santi snickers at the fact that it’s evidently not. You decide on a change of tact. ‘And myself?’ Frankie finally looks up at you, eyes wide. Your lips curl in a pleased smile as Santi takes a steadying sip of his drink.

‘You can touch yourself, darlin’’ Joel says, unfazed, ‘Never said you couldn’t do that.’

You nod, gears turning. An idea forming, one you tamp down by resting your hand on Joel’s thigh.

‘Was Benny okay last night?’ You ask Frankie, changing the subject. Your fingers begin their slow and steady stroke up and down Joel’s thigh as you watch the younger man flush.

‘Yeah,’ he nods, ‘He was only arrested for starting a bar fight -’

Your hand pauses only briefly on Joel’s thigh.

‘He was arrested?’

Frankie grins.

‘Yep. Not the first time. One day he might learn his lesson.’

You chuckle along with Joel and Santi.

‘Was he okay?’

‘Always is,’ Frankie says, ‘Lucky motherfucker. You should see the other guy.’

You smile, scraping your nails along Joel’s pants now, pleased when he shifts in his seat. He leans in close to your ear.

‘Knock it off, princess. I know exactly what you’re tryna do.’

You raise an eyebrow at him.

‘Never said I couldn’t touch you, daddy.’

You turn back to face Frankie, and he eyes you suspiciously. 

‘Don’t miss those days,’ Joel says, and Frankie’s eyes flick to him. ‘Tommy straightened out once he met Maria. Think the worst time I had to bail him out was the night’a my 36th birthday. He near caused a riot at some bar downtown. They still won't let him back in.’

‘Can imagine Tommy raining hell down on ‘em,’ Pope says, beside you. ‘He and Benny would make a hell of a team.’

Joel chuckles.

‘Sure would,’ he says, and you slide your palm over to cup him through his pants. He’s rock hard, cock twitching at your touch. But he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t falter. ‘She made him into a better man, my sister-in-law. Keeps him far outta trouble.’

His hand finds your own thigh beneath the table, squeezing as Santi begins to regale a story from his younger days with the boys. He starts the same ministrations as you, stroking, scraping, higher and higher, up to where you’re dripping, soaking yourself -

‘Joel.’ You whisper, something urgent in your voice. Why isn’t he stopping?

You’re suddenly nervous at the fact you’d decided to forego any underwear for the sake of the dress, before realising that is exactly what Joel had wanted. Like he knew you’d be running your hand up and down his thigh at the table, like he knew you’d be teasing him. Like he knew he could not only tease right back, but win the whole damn game. Smug bastard. He can read you like a book.

He leans in close to murmur into the conch of your ear.

‘Don’t start something you can’t finish, baby,’ as he pushes your dress higher to cup your sex. You clench your jaw as he chuckles underneath his breath, feeling how wet you are, how much more slick spills out at the pressure he applies. 

His fingers move up to circle your clit gently, and you let out a shaky breath. You watch him from the corner of your eye, his chin in his fist, eyes sparkling as he listens to and watches the two other men, as his movements against your cunt grow firmer, faster. You reach for your wine glass, eyes flicking to Frankie, only to find him looking at you, eyes bright with amusement. You narrow your eyes, and Joel leans in again.

‘Good girl, he says, ‘You’re gonna keep looking at Frankie, and I’m gonna make you come like this. And next time, you’re not gonna play any of your games in the middle of a restaurant.’

You grit your teeth against the whimper that fights to escape as quiet falls at the table, the conversation quickly forgotten as Frankie leans back in his chair, smirking, watching intensely. You don’t break eye contact as Santi’s hand drifts to the soft flesh of your thigh, drawing goosebumps as it nears Joel’s, as he traces the seam of your cunt, smearing the wetness around your skin. You don’t even look when Pope brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking the tips before releasing them with a lewd pop.

‘Good enough to eat.’

Your cunt throbs in response, breathing coming more laboured as Joel’s fingers work you tighter, tighter, slipping away to hook your thigh out wider, only to be replaced by Santi’s. Once he’s satisfied with your new position, he slips his hand beneath Pope’s, working the digits easily into your pussy, pumping in and out, curling to find that sweet spot within you. A small, desperate noise escapes you, and you set your glass down, your drink forgotten as you clutch at the napkin closest to you, body burning, buzzing, throbbing with pleasure. It’s too much, and it’s not enough.

You break eye contact with Frankie, holding your breath and biting your lip so hard you’re sure you’ll either pass out or draw blood.

‘No, baby,’ Joel rumbles into your hair, ‘Keep looking at Frankie. He’s gonna watch you come like this.’ You moan quietly again, meeting Frankie’s eyes, hot and close, so close.

Santi leans in so you can feel his hot breath against your cheek, goading, teasing -

‘Whenever you’re ready, sweetheart.’

Your orgasm clatters through you, the tightly bound knot bursting as you lean forward onto the table, trying to stop your body from twitching. You feel yourself tighten and clench around Joel’s fingers, feel your thighs grow wetter, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as Pope looses a quiet groan. The fire and heat of it make it almost impossible to keep quiet, a moan slipping past your lips as Joel retracts his fingers too quickly to pat you on the back in some kind of misleading gesture. Santi keeps his fingers pressed to your clit for as long as possible, letting you ride it out, before circling it again.

A gasped fuck passes your lips, and you slam your fist down onto the table, clattering the silverware and glasses. The action draws a chuckle from Santi and Joel, and sharp looks from the two tables closest to you.

You cough a little, trying to affect the pretence of choking, spluttering, anything that doesn’t look like you just came in the middle of a restaurant. 

When you haul your body back to sit upright, Joel moves his hand to your thigh, and Santi follows suit. Their fingers are wet against you, and you try not to look, try not to feel it, but it’s impossible. The slick feeling, the heat, the pressure. You could go again.

But, god, your throat is so dry.

As if on cue, the waitress appears at your shoulder to refill your water. You try to clear your throat to express your gratitude before noticing the deep red flush clawing up her neck, her gaze drawn to each hand still splayed on your thigh, dress rucked a little higher than it should be. You smile sheepishly at her, finally whisper a thank you.

When she leaves the table, you heave a deep breath, your head in your hands.

‘Almost.’ Joel whispers in your ear.

You resist the urge to flip him off, and instead decide the best way to get a hold of yourself is to head to the bathroom. Clean yourself up, splash a little cold water on your face. 

‘Excuse me,’ you murmur, voice hoarse and strained, and Frankie can’t help the smile that reaches his eyes. Looking to Joel and Santi, it appears they feel the same way. You grin despite yourself as you stand on unsteady legs, Joel’s hands shooting out to steady you as you giggle at the three of them, enjoying their favourite game.

‘Fuck you guys,’ you laugh as you turn on your heel, and they mirror your chuckles.

You’re almost to the door of the restroom when your waitress catches your eye. You try to smile at her and glide past without drawing any more attention to yourself, but fail.

‘Ma’am,’ she calls softly, stepping just in front of you. Your stomach twists. Fuck, she knows. She knows, and she’s gonna kick you all out, you’re gonna get arrested - ‘Are you alright?’

You blink at her, surprised. And then it clicks. One woman, surrounded by three men. The hands on your thighs, your dress. Three men who have been talking intently, possessively, obviously, even if they can’t be heard. You exhale.

‘Oh no, it’s - yes. Thank you for checking. That’s - really kind of you. I’m fine. We’re friends - I mean - it’s complicated - but it’s nothing to worry about.’

It’s complicated? Why the fuck did you say that? You twist your fingers as you try and work out how to extricate yourself from the hole you’ve dug, but your mind draws a blank. You pray she missed your phrasing, her eyes searching your face as you give her your warmest smile. It’s only a moment before she returns it, even brighter.

‘Oh, like a - what is it - a polyamorous thing? That’s neat. You get it, cowgirl,’ she grins, before clapping a hand over her mouth. ‘Oh my god,’ she gasps, ‘I’m so sorry, that was so unprofessional -’

You laugh, somewhat relieved, placing a gentle hand on her arm - it soothes her.

‘No, please,’ you giggle, ‘It’s fine, really.’

She peels her fingers back from her lips nervously and massages her temples.

‘I don’t know what came over me,’ she whispers, before meeting your eye again. ‘I’m sorry. But as long as you’re good. You know, taken care of.’ You watch as she cringes at herself. You reach out again to press her bicep.

‘Really, it’s fine,’ you say, glancing back to your table. You feel… warm as you look over at the three of them - relaxed, laughing. Warm at how easily you can all move back and forth in this dynamic. Warm at the feel of the slick around the tops of your legs. ‘I’m very well taken care of. And it’s really good of you to check.’

She smiles at you again as you step away towards the bathroom.

‘Oh, not at all,’ she says, bashful. ‘I’m glad. You guys have fun.’

The rest of the night passes easily, wrapped in conversation and good food. Jokes are whipped across the table so fast that the four of you cackle with laughter, the air sizzling with good humour and lightness. Joel has his hands on you whenever he can, and when you finally leave the restaurant just before closing time, Pope holds you tenderly, kisses both cheeks, and murmurs that he hopes you learned your lesson. You smack his arm and tell him to be safe in Colombia. Frankie does the same, but departs with a remark about how beautiful you looked instead - ‘especially when you come, hermosa’ he adds.

Joel makes sure you remember what he taught you at the table, taking the time to rock you through orgasm after orgasm in his bed until you’re in tears, until he’s sure the neighbours can hear you calling yes daddy, thank you daddy, I’m sorry daddy over the lawn.

He pulls you close afterwards, pressing kisses to any slither of skin he can, telling you how well you did, how proud you make him, how good you can be when you try. He only leaves to head through to the bathroom to turn on the shower, making you promise to join him when you can rouse yourself from the snuggly duvet. You don’t take much convincing.

Once you can hear him humming under the flow of water, you pad downstairs to the bag you’d left in the hallway yesterday. You root around in it before finding what you need, clutching it to your chest with a thrill before retreating back to Joel’s bedroom. You bury it in his suitcase, underneath at least a day’s worth of clothes, before stripping and joining him in the shower.

———

When you wake the next morning, Joel’s suitcase is already zipped shut, and the smell of coffee is drifting up the stairs.

You find him sat at the breakfast table, staring out into the weak morning sunshine, a steaming mug already set down for you across from him. You drift past him, a hand trailing from one shoulder, over his broad back, to the next, tracing the lines of your favourite plaid shirt, before pressing a kiss to his temple. 

You sit quietly in each other’s company, the silence slowly turning to low conversation. What route he’ll be taking, where he’ll be staying, what the job will involve, what the people are like. What your work week looks like, what the book you’re reading is about, what you’ll do with him gone. You settle your chin on your palm.

‘Any other rules I should know about?’

Joel looks back at you with amusement written all over his face.

‘No. Jus’ don’t try anything at dinner again. Or do. I’m always happy to remind you.’

You giggle, and he grins back, all white teeth and crinkly eyes.

‘You know, even the waitress asked if I was okay afterwards.’

He grunts, enough of a question in it for you to continue.

‘I mean, I don’t think she saw anything go down. But she saw me with you guys and asked if I was okay.’

Joel raises his eyebrows.

‘What do you mean?’ 

You falter.

‘I guess… you know. Me, with you guys. Just making sure nothing - weird was going on.’

‘Weird?’

‘Bad.’ You say. Joel’s eyes soften, but his brow furrows.

‘I said no, of course. That we’re all friends. I don’t know. I rambled. She asked - she asked whether it was a polyamorous thing,’ you shrug.

‘’N what did you say?’

Something about the way Joel asks the question catches you off guard. A little brusque, a little too quick off his tongue. Your eyes narrow slightly.

‘Nothing,’ you admit, ‘I didn’t want to get into the semantics of what we do with a stranger. And - I don’t know what to call it. I don’t know if that is what it is.’

‘It something you’re interested in?’

You blink at him. He’s not looking at you, his jaw set, body tense. You feel your own jaw clench.

‘Is it something you’re interested in?’

Joel chews the side of his cheek, brow knitted as he looks out to the garden into the morning sunlight.

‘I don’t know,’ he says, ‘Not really thought about it before.’

You soften at the way his body deflates. Remember this is just as fresh for him as it is for you. You nod, reach out to take his massive hand in yours. His eyes swing back to you, and you squeeze his fingers. 

‘You don’t have to think about it,’ you reassure him, ‘All of this is new. All of it. And if you want to talk about it, we’ll talk about it. But -’ you say, reaching to hold his other hand, too, ‘I want you to know none of it changes how I feel about you. You are enough for me. You will always be enough for me.’

Joel searches your face, quiet and serious. You lift his hands to your lips and press a tender kiss to his knuckles.

‘I love you.’ You say, softly.

There’s no sound through the quiet dawn of the world but a quiet intake of breath from Joel across the table. Your eyes flick up to him at the sound, to the brows slightly further up his tan forehead, his wide, surprised, brown eyes. And you realise that it’s slipped from you, aloud, for the first time. All that time spent thinking it, knowing it, feeling it, but those words in that order have been yet to pass either of your lips. In the conversations between sharing spaces, meeting families, spending time with friends, you’d forgotten to put into words what you’d assumed Joel already knew.

I love you.

You still, his hands unmoving before your lips, releasing a quiet exhale of your own.

‘I love you,’ you say again, even softer. And then, through heat rising in your chest - ‘You don’t have to say it back. If you’re not ready yet - you don’t have to ever say it back if you don’t want to -’

He grips your hands tight.

‘I love you.’ he says, gravelly and warm. And you believe him. See it in all its molten gold truth in his eyes. I love you.

You can’t help the delighted little laugh that falls from your lips. The same sound slips from Joel, and you sit, giggling and grinning at each other, in love, unaware of the minutes that tick by. You bite your lip.

‘Does that mean you’re my boyfriend now?’

Joel baulks at you, laughter frozen on his lips. Your heart squeezes, joy almost overtaken by nerves.

‘You mean - did I never ask you that?’

You shake your head slowly.

Joel sucks a breath in through his teeth. Something passes over his features; embarrassment, shame -

‘I’m sorry,’ he says lowly, a flush colouring his cheeks, ‘I’m sorry - I just - I assumed -’ he ducks his head away from you, ‘What an ass -’

You giggle at him, and he fixes you with his best puppy dog eyes.

‘Joel,’ you smile, ‘It’s okay, honestly -’

But he shakes his head.

‘No,’ he winces, ‘Sarah would be - so disappointed in me if she knew. She -’ he fixes you with an apologetic stare again, ‘She knew I loved you before you did. My God. And Tommy - Tommy would be wringing my neck, and my Momma - she raised me better than this -’

‘Joel,’ you laugh, standing from your chair to circle the table. Instinctively, he spreads his thighs for you to sit, and you settle down onto him, your legs perpendicular to his. You thread your arms around his neck, holding him close, and a warm palm comes to pet the small of your back. ‘Relax. Please don’t worry about it,’ you press a kiss to the patch in his beard, and he leans his head into you, eyes closed. ‘Besides. I kinda assumed it, too.’

His eyes open, so full of warmth, love.

‘Well,’ he says, ‘Do ya wanna be my girlfriend?’ 

You huff a laugh into his neck, resting on his shoulder.

‘Baby,’ you tease, ‘I thought you’d never ask.’

You spend a little while longer like that, curled up in his lap like a cat, sharing kisses and giggles, until Joel checks his watch and sighs. You clamber off him and follow him upstairs, leaning against the doorframe as he makes his final checks.

‘Joel,’ you call softly, hesitating. You cringe in the doorway. ‘Is it - seeing Frankie for dinner tonight, is that - is that still okay?’

He smiles and steps towards you, gathering you in his arms.

‘You know what the limits are,’ he says into your hair. ‘I trust you. ’F I didn’t want you to do something, you’d have known about it before dinner. ’Sides,’ he says, ‘You’ll look good together at that table. I’ll be thinkin’ bout it while I’m away.’

You snort and rest your forehead against his chest, breathing his scent in.

‘Just wanted to check.’ You mumble. Joel presses a kiss to your hair, rocking you side to side.

‘I love you.’ He says.

‘Love you too.’ You whisper.

Minutes later, you watch his truck peel away from the house, waving through the rays of sunlight now peeking out from the trees. He waves back, his arm out the driver’s side window, until the truck disappears from view. You swallow the lump in your throat, wash the coffee mugs, gather your clothes, and lock Joel’s front door behind you.

———

Joel calls you later in the afternoon to let you know he’s arrived safe. And Frankie texts to let you know he’s picking you up at seven.

When you get home from work, you busy yourself with a shower, with laundry you’ve held off, with tidying the house, and when you’re settled, ready, you call Joel again. Just to hear his voice, just to know he’s eaten. He chuckles a melody down the line at your fussing, but before he has to hang up, he lets slip that he misses you already, just as much. 

When seven rolls around, you feel warm, giddy, nerves fluttering in your stomach as you wait for the sound of tyres outside. 

Frankie greets you at your door, relaxed in a t-shirt that strains across his arms, his signature cap, and a beaming smile. You melt a little at the sight of him, so boyish, so bashful, so handsome, that you have to forcefully remind yourself of the rules. No touching, which must surely extend to no kissing. Still, as though he can’t help himself, he keeps a palm on the small of your back as he leads you into the small restaurant he’s chosen and plays with your fingers while you’re sat at your table.

You eat and talk, laughing and smiling like you always do. He asks about work, the projects you’re working on, and you fill him in on all the office gossip. How one of the line managers got fired last week, how Trisha from accounting is pregnant. He asks question after question until you laugh and remind him that you want to talk about him as well, and he flushes shyly. You ask about Lucia, about work, about flying again. He tells you about the places he’s been, the people he’s taken there, and one nightmare trip from last week where one woman refused to get in the helicopter, too scared to fly, until she had to be told that it was part of the proposal her boyfriend had planned. 

You order gelato for dessert and share it with two spoons, giggling as you feed it to each other. You both get a text from Santi, a selfie of him sipping a beer, looking warm and delicious. You get a text from Joel, too, a picture of him straight out of the shower which sets your cunt throbbing, hoping you’re having a good night.

Frankie insists on settling the check and walks you back to his truck with a warm palm still on your skin. He opens the door for you, waiting for you to settle in your seat before he shuts it and crosses to the driver’s side.

He drives you to a spot overlooking the city, and you stay in the cab, seatbelts unbuckled, turned towards each other, swapping stories like teenagers at a sleepover. You try not to think too hard as the night settles in around you. Try not to watch his hands, his thick fingers, the way his arms bunch and flex, how strong his thighs look, how good he smells. But it’s so hard, so hard when he’s right across from you, smiling, eyes trailing over your body, getting caught on your lips, watching the way your limbs are draped in his truck. The way he’s looking at you makes it hard to remember the rules, hard to resist leaning over the console and pressing your mouth to his, especially when he lowly confesses how badly he wants to kiss you.

You huff a breathless laugh, looking away from him out to the shimmering skyline outside the window screen. Try to distract yourself with how the distant lights of the city shimmer like moonlight on water, how the structures of the skyscrapers reach up to the night flights swooping over the horizon. Something as far away from your body as possible, so you don’t have to think about Frankie’s warm, broad chest, what he would sound like moaning against you. 

‘I wish you would,’ You whisper. When you turn back to look at Frankie, he is already watching you. Pressed against the driver’s side door, mouth slightly open, his eyes sparkling and dark. ‘You could kiss me.’

His mouth closes with a gentle snap of his teeth, and he shakes his head.

‘You know I can’t do that.’

You nod, eyes finding the skyline again.

‘I know. But I still wish you would.’

In the silence that follows, you can feel slick drooling and cooling from your cunt, soaking your panties. You shift in your seat, unsure whether you’re trying to ignore or resolve the discomfort. Frankie watches you still, and when you wriggle again, his own hips shift. You fix him with a stare, the air hot and thick between you. You curve your body towards him, one hand coming down gently to hold yourself over the console.

‘They wouldn’t know. If we kissed.’

Frankie continues to stare as you remain frozen, poised before him.

‘I know.’

‘Then let me kiss you.’

‘No, hermosa.’

You look back and forth between his eyes and his lips, watching his throat bob as he tries to keep his distance.

You slump backwards a little, trying not to feel any kind of acute rejection. You’re just hot, bothered, unbearably aroused in the cabin of his truck. His refusing to kiss you isn’t a mark on his desire, just his self control. Muscle memory of years of following instructions. Frankie turns his body, facing forward out the windscreen in his seat. He swipes his palms over the steering wheel, and your lips part, cunt burning when you imagine those hands on you again, huge palms sweeping down your curves, your thighs, up between your legs -

‘I’m not gonna kiss you, because then I’ll need to fuck you.’

Your gasp zips past your lips before you can stop it. Frankie keeps his eyes trained forwards as you stare at him. Your pussy clenches around nothing, needing something to sate it, a touch, a glance, anything -

‘Frankie -’

He shakes his head, grip tightening on the wheel.

‘Please, Frankie, I’ll be so good -’

‘Enough.’

You watch his nostrils flare, watch a muscle in his jaw tick. Watch a certain darkness sweep over his features, and you know, you know you’ve won.

He never stood a chance.

‘Tell me,’ you whisper, and he shakes his head, skull pressed into the headrest, hands white-knuckling the steering wheel. ‘I want you to tell me. Tell me how you’d fuck me.’

Frankie closes his eyes slowly, his shoulders tensing, breath faltering. 

‘No,’ he whispers, ‘No, baby, I can’t do that -’

You whine, hands scrubbing down your bare thighs, trying to find something to grip, to hold, something that’s not him -

‘God - it hurts, Frankie,’ you mumble, wriggling in the seat, and his eyes flick back and forth over you; your pathetic attempts to grind into something, the heaving of your chest, the wild, desperate look in your eyes.

‘What, baby? What hurts?’ He breathes, and he’s leaning forwards over the centre console like he could pounce on you, like he could hold your hands in a tight, binding grip behind your back, like he could eat you here, devour you here -

You whimper by way of an answer, hands finally resting on the hem of your skirt, pushing it up, up to bunch at your hips. Frankie watches, eyes molten and black as you cup your sex, as you buck against your hand. He moans loudly at the sight.

‘There, hermosa?’

You shudder out a sigh, a hissed yes as you apply more pressure. His throat bobs as he considers, as he weighs his options.

‘Please, Frankie -’ you beg, though you’re not even sure what for. Rules, rules, but none of them seem to make sense anymore, none of them seem to matter as you lick your own lips at his growing bulge through his jeans. He breathes in harshly, swiping a palm across his mouth before he fixes you with a look that makes you feel dizzy. He swallows thickly.

‘Show me.’

Easy, so easy. You lift your hips from the seat and slide your thumbs under the waistband of your panties, pulling them down, down, watching him the whole time. He waits like he’s forgotten how to breathe, this starving, tortured look in his eyes like he’s on fire and water is just out of reach. You spread your legs for him and dip your fingers to your slit, gathering the slickness there before trailing the digits further up, spreading yourself in a v shape so he can see everything, see how you throb, how your clit twitches, how you leak down into the cleft of your ass. 

‘Need you, Frankie,’ you whine, ‘Need you to -’

He lurches back like he’s been shocked.

‘Don’t,’ he grits, ‘Don’t, you know I can’t touch you -’

‘Then watch,’ you breathe, ‘He said don’t touch. But you can watch. I can watch.’

‘Watch?’ he repeats, breathless, body shifting, open, and you nod, mewling against your palm. 

‘Yeah,’ you murmur, ‘Frankie, baby, let me watch you. Need to see you.’

He stares at you, something working behind his eyes.

‘Watch,’ he says again, nodding, ‘Yeah, please baby, is that okay? Can I watch?’

You nod, relishing the control that he shifts so easily to you. So easy. You trace the swollen lips of your pussy, spreading the glistening wetness so it catches every stream of moonlight bruising through the window. 

‘You, too. Wanna watch you, too.’

He nods quickly, mouth agape, unable to tear his eyes away from your core. He palms himself roughly over his jeans.

You trace your fingers back over your clit, swiping it in circles until your head falls back against the window, your brows pulling together as you loose a quiet cry. You bite your lip, looking down your nose at Frankie

‘How does it feel?’ he gasps, ‘Please - tell me - how does it feel?’

‘Good,’ you gasp, ‘So good, Frankie.’

He groans, his hands finding his button and zipper, undoing them before shifting his hips to pull his jeans down. He reaches inside his boxers to pull himself free, swollen and aching. 

He’s thick, and just as big as you knew he would be - but he’s so pretty as well. The same tan as his skin, pink flush at his tip, skin silken and veins throbbing beneath the surface.  You moan, wanton and crooning, sinking a finger into yourself as he grips his base, squeezing at the sight of your digit disappearing up to the knuckle. 

His hips lift as he fucks himself slowly into his fist, lips wet and eyes blown, his other hand coming away from scratching at the denim of his thigh to squeezing and cupping his balls. You go slow for him as he watches, working your bud in agonisingly slow circles, pumping your finger in and out gently until you remove it completely, Frankie’s eyes drawn to the strand of slick suspended from your finger. He moans, a sick, feral sound, his head falling back against the seat to expose the straining tendons in his neck, the sweat that glimmers in the hollows before his clavicles. He jerks himself faster, tighter - tip ruddy now, beading with precum that he swipes down the length of his shaft, slick enough for you to imagine that it’s your spit, your wetness. A surge of arousal floods your fingers again, and you whimper.

‘Look at you, Frankie. So gorgeous.’

Frankie answers with his own choked growl as he watches you sink your finger into your heat again, but this time he grits his teeth, inhaling sharply before endowing you with an instruction -

‘Give yourself another finger, hermosa. Another. Wanna see you stretched out, baby.’

You comply, sinking in another easily, rocking your hips back and forth, the sound of it obscene, loud in the truck, and Frankie squeezes himself, breathless.

‘Fuck, hermosa, you’re so wet - so wet. Is it for me?’

You nod frantically, speeding up your movements until Frankie matches your rhythm, his body tense, his tip turning a cruel shade of crimson. You whimper again. This soft, sweet man, reduced to this savage across from you, fisting himself, reeling himself back from the edge just to wait to come with you. 

You watch as his eyes drop to your cunt again, as a grunt wrenches itself from his chest, and he begs you - more, one more, please, hermosa. You oblige, cramming three of your fingers into your dripping cunt just to catch a glimmer of what he’d feel like inside of you. Your orgasm flexes, tight and searing inside of you, and you whine.

‘Close, so close, Frankie -’ you pant, and his eyes widen, fist working so furiously you wonder whether it hurts, whether he likes it like that. He groans deep in his throat.

‘Make yourself come, baby, please make yourself come. I have to see you come.’ And you seize, tight as a knot around your fingers, body curling in on itself as you come, teeth clenched to bite back your scream. Frankie falls slack in his seat, eyes glazed as his cock jerks in his grip, and you meet his eyes, gasping out -

‘Frankie - want you to come, come for me, baby boy -’ and he erupts over his hands, over the tops of his thighs and his belly with a choked growl, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. You watch his thick spend trickle over his knuckles, mouth watering at the sight, and your fingers twitch as you pull them from inside you. You are so close to reaching out and swiping it with your own fingertips to take to your lips, and it’s like Frankie’s read your mind -

‘I want to taste you. So bad.’ he gasps, gaze fixed on your shining fingers. You bring them to your mouth, tongue laving between your fingers at your own salty sweet taste. Frankie moans again, tugging his spent cock weakly if only to stop himself from reaching out to snatch your wrist to him.

‘I promise,’ you murmur between licks, ‘I promise - soon, baby - God, so soon -’

You suck your middle finger into your mouth, keeping your eyes locked with his, licking beneath your nail before releasing it with a lewd pop. Frankie looks physically pained.

‘Stop,’ he pants, ‘Just - stop. I need you to stop.’

You understand, whole body still at fever pitch despite your release. Your hands fall to your thighs. Frankie tucks himself back into his boxers and lifts his hips to fix his jeans before popping open the driver’s side door.

‘Just - give me a moment.’ He murmurs as he jumps out, leaving the door open behind him. You watch as he walks circles in the dirt beside the car, his hands on the back of his head, breathing like he’s run a marathon. It takes a minute for your own brain to catch up with you. You tug your panties back up and your skirt down, some kind of horrible anxiety, disappointment and desperation clawing up your throat. You swallow and pop your own door open, rounding the truck to find Frankie.

The air has done him good. His eyes are clearer, body more relaxed, and he watches you approach with an expression that softens at every step. He barely gets out a you oka- before you rush to him with open arms, crashing into his chest with a quiet mmph. Frankie wraps his arms around you just as quickly, rocking the two of you back and forth, swooping a palm down your back.

‘I’m sorry.’ You whisper. Frankie stops his swaying, gives your shoulder a little squeeze.

‘Why are you apologising, princesa?’ he asks, so sweet you have to swallow again before answering.

‘I don’t know,’ you murmur, ‘That was supposed to feel good, but I don’t - I don’t know how I feel -’

He holds you tighter as tears threaten in your eyes, and you will yourself not to blink, lest they fall.

‘S’okay,’ he whispers back, ‘Might be ‘cause you want it so bad,’ you feel the rumble of a chuckle ripple through his chest. ‘That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, and I still feel like I could rip my skin off.’

A sharp laugh bubbles out of your mouth, taking you by surprise. You blink and the tears begin to fall, and you laugh harder. The man might be right.

‘This is so weird,’ you chuckle against his chest, ‘I’ve never been so horny I’ve cried before.’

He laughs, pressing a sweet kiss to your head.

‘It’s okay,’ he says, ‘And it’s not weird. Feels like my brain will never work the same again.’

You laugh harder, sniffing as you pull away from him. He grins down at you, pinches your chin lightly between his thumb and forefinger.

‘Home?’ he asks.

‘Yeah, Frankie,’ you smile, ‘Take me home.’

Frankie holds your hand over the centre console the whole way home. You’re too tired to think about the semantics of rules, too overwhelmed to wonder what Joel or Santi would say. You grant yourself a small mercy in the passenger seat, reminding yourself that this is okay. This is aftercare. It’s necessary, Joel grumbles in your ear, it doesn’t come with rules.

When Frankie pulls up outside your place, he hops out to make sure he can the truck door for you and help you down. He walks you to your front door like he’d done so many moons ago, ever the gentleman, and waits until the door is unlocked and you’ve flicked the hallway light on. 

You turn to face him, wrapping yourself around him again. He returns the hug.

‘Will you call me if you need anything?’

‘Yeah,’ you breathe, ‘Will you?’

‘’course,’ he swipes the back of his hand over your cheek, and dips to press a soft, firm kiss to your forehead. ‘See you tomorrow, baby.’ He says. You pinch his cheek as he pulls away, chuckling as he bounds back down the path.

You watch his truck peel away like a teenager, standing in the doorway smiling to yourself until his tail lights disappear around the corner.

———

When Joel calls not fifteen minutes later, you’re wearing one of his shirts, grinding your bare pussy into your pillow, fingers working steadily against your clit.

You fumble with your phone, taking longer than usual to swipe to answer the call, and if that hadn’t have given you away, your pants and whimpers do. Joel chuckles warmly down the line at you.

At his ‘how you doing, baby girl?’, your mouth curves in a shy smile, and a heat blossoms in your chest. Your ‘good, daddy’ is true, a kind of peace settling over your frazzled body and mind. You let out a cooing moan before you can ask how his day’s been, and his breath catches down the line.

‘And what are you doing, baby girl?’ he asks softly, so soft, and you smile even wider.

‘Thinkin’ bout you, daddy.’ You breathe, and he hums at your words.

‘Just me?’

‘Mostly.’ You confess, and he chuckles, a honeyed sound.

‘Mostly,’ he echoes, ‘And what are you using while you’re thinking about me, baby?’

You give a strong roll of your hips, grinding down as you answer him.

‘A pillow, daddy.’

‘Mhm. Just a pillow?’

You whine.

‘Fingers, too.’

‘Greedy fuckin’ girl,’ he chuckles. You moan loudly, and are rewarded with a low grunt in return. He listens to you breathe for a moment before you hear the crackle of him shifting, moving.

‘Stop now,’ he says, gently. ‘Need to ask you somethin’.’

You pull your fingers out of your cunt, whining as you do. You can picture his smirk so clearly that you tell him to knock it off.

‘Sorry baby.’ He apologises, so disingenuous. 

‘What’s the question?’

‘I found something. In my case,’ he says. ‘Don’t suppose you’d know who put it there?’

You bite your lip.

‘Hmmm. Depends. What is it?’

You hear Joel fumble with something before he speaks again.

‘Let’s see. One of ‘em… pocket pussy things.’

‘Huh. No idea. Must have been your other girlfriend.’

He laughs.

‘Motherfucker. You damn well I can’t handle another one of you.’

You grin at your reflection. If you had a cord phone, you’d be twirling the plastic around your finger right now. Girlfriend.

‘My bad. Must have been me, then.’

‘Causing trouble even from all the way over there, huh, angel?’

You roll your eyes, knowing he’s drawing it out.

‘Sure, daddy,’ you coo. There’s a beat. ‘Have you… tried it?’

He huffs, and you can see the frown in your mind. How you’d smooth your fingers over it.

‘Ain’t need it when I’ve got you.’

‘Even when you’re far away?’

There’s a pause as Joel considers his reply.

‘You feelin’ sorry for me or somethin’?’

You sigh, letting your fingers dip to your clit. He won’t know, so long as you’re quiet.

‘Couldn’t just - leave you out, daddy,’ you huff against the phone. 

A low chuckle rumbles through from the other end, and you bite your lip.

‘So this is - what? My consolation prize?’ 

‘No,’ you frown, ‘It’s better than that. Better than your hand.’

‘Better ‘n my hand?’

‘Yeah, daddy.’

‘Is it better than you, babygirl?’

You roll your hips at his question, biting back a whine.

‘No, daddy.’

He hums down the line.

‘Sounds like a consolation prize to me, honey.’

You sigh again, louder this time.

‘’S not a consolation prize,’ you groan. ‘Frankie isn’t even allowed to touch me.’

Joel chuckles at you properly this time.

‘You sound disappointed, baby.’

‘I am.’

He waits. He waits, because he knows. Of course he knows.

‘We watched each other, daddy,’ you breathe. Confessional, dirty. A heat flushes up your cheeks as you tug at your t-shirt, suddenly nervous.

‘Watched?’ he asks, a smile curling the word.

Mmhm.

‘Well done, baby,’ he says, ‘I’m impressed. Though a little disappointed it didn’t take you longer to figure out.’

You giggle, and he puffs out a breath before continuing.

‘Santi told me it wouldn't be so fast. Thought it’d take you guys a little while to -’

‘He thought it’d take Frankie longer to work out,’ you interject. Joel falls silent. ‘He knows Frankie, but not me so well. You should’ve known better.’ 

Joel laughs again.

‘You’re goddamn right, angel.’ 

You smile, smug. Hum in agreement.

Joel sighs.

‘Too eager for your own goddamn good,’ he murmurs, ‘Bet you can’t wait to know what his cock feels like inside you, huh? Can’t wait to be droolin’ and comin’ over him like you do me, hm?’

God, his mouth. You moan openly, rocking your hips again, ready. Ready to hear him moaning, too, ready to hear the slick sound of the toy on his dick, ready to hear him groaning your name as he comes.

‘Yes, daddy.’

Joel hums, pleased. His breathing comes a little ragged this time, making your core hotter, tighter, wetter.

‘Use it,’ you moan, ‘Please, daddy. Wanna hear you use it.’

‘I’ll use it,’ he grunts, ‘But you ain’t gonna touch yourself. Just gonna have to listen, sweetheart.’

‘Please -’ you whine, but he cuts you off with a harsh tut.

‘No. You’re gonna be good, you’re gonna listen to me first.’

You begin to groan out again but he says your name in such a tone that you feel your body shift into submission, acquiescing to his demand.

‘You’re gonna stay still,’ he tells you, ‘And you’re gonna leave that pretty pussy alone until I’m done, y’hear?’ Your eyes half close, head dipping forward.

‘Yes, daddy.’ 

‘Good girl.’

You listen closely to the pop of the cap on the bottle of lube you’d packed for him, his heavy breathing as you imagine him soaking the toy, his sharp inhale as he spreads the cool gel over himself. The pop sounds again, and you wait with baited breath.

You’re rewarded almost immediately with a groan that resonates right through your body, vibrating straight down to your cunt as though he had voiced it against your lips.

‘Gonna start with my hand, baby,’ he says, voice low and breathy, ‘Start nice and slow, just like you would if you were here, huh?’

You hum low in your throat and lick your lips.

‘Wouldn’t start like that, daddy.’ Your voice is husky, drenched in lust at the thought of Joel spread on the hotel bed stroking his cock.

‘Oh?’

‘Start with my mouth,’ you breathe, ‘I’d lick you. Get you nice and wet so I can suck on it.’

‘Yeah?’ he whispers, ‘That what you’d do, you’d suck on it?’

You ache and throb between your legs, your free hand scratching at the skin of your thigh to distract yourself. Your mouth waters at the thought.

‘Mhm, daddy. Nice and deep, how you like it. You could fuck my throat if you wanted to.’

A low, guttural sound answers you, the slick sounds of his moving fist getting faster.

‘I’d want you to hold me still while I take you, daddy. I’d want to dribble and gag and cry.’

Joel huffs.

‘Would you, baby? You’d be such a good girl for me?’

You nod, lip between your teeth, even though he can’t see you.

‘Yeah, daddy.’

‘And what if daddy wants to fuck your tight little pussy, baby girl? What would you do then?’

You moan, eyes fluttering shut, hips shifting of their own accord. You grip the hem of your t-shirt.

‘I’d let you.’ you answer, helplessly.

Joel chuckles darkly. 

‘Want me to tell you what I’d do?’ He asks, and you loose a pained little sound, brows pulling together. You’re sure you’re soaking the pillow at this point, dripping through to the other side. Joel laughs again. ‘I think I’d tie you up, baby,’ he says, so low, so deep, that the world starts to drift away from you. You’re barely aware of the fact that the noise of his hand has stopped until he moans wantonly into the phone, and your eyes fly open. ‘Fuck,’ he grits, and then he huffs a cruel little laugh. ‘Was gonna tell you how I’d tie you up and fuck you, baby,’ he growls, ‘But this toy feels good ‘nough that I might just make you watch me instead.’

You whine, chin tipped up to the ceiling, hushed little cries of no, daddy, please - falling from your lips.

‘Oh, sweetheart. You don’t like the sound ‘a that?’ he asks. You shake your head, mewling, ‘No, ‘course not,’ he murmurs ‘Just wanna be stuffed full ‘a daddy’s cock, huh? Wanna be creamin’ around it way you love to, all stretched out and used, yeah?’

God, yes you do. You moan breathlessly, cunt twitching and throbbing, and you wonder whether this is enough to just come hands free. If you concentrate hard enough, if you bear down enough -

‘Maybe I’d film it,’ he muses, ‘Film it so Santiago and Francisco could watch. See how you really like to be used, how cock dumb I can make you. Would you like that, angel?’

‘Fuck, daddy, yes -’

‘Mmm. So they can see how good you look when you beg, when you’re dripping with my cum, huh, baby girl? See how good you look when you cry, when you just take it for me?’

You can tell he’s getting closer, his breathing heavier and more ragged, longer pauses between his thoughts. You wriggle on the pillow, feeling yourself flutter around nothing at the pathetic stimulation. He moans again, broken and loud, and you puff against the speaker, seeing your opportunity -

‘Come for me, daddy,’ you pant, ‘Please - come for me. Need to hear you daddy, please -’

Joel’s breath catches raggedly, once, twice, before it cuts off with a deep growl. With every resounding moan you hear, you can imagine the spurts of cum bursting from his tip. You wriggle even more, cunt burning. 

‘Atta girl,’ Joel gasps, ‘Atta girl, helping your daddy out.’

‘Please,’ you moan, breathless, ‘Please, daddy, my turn, is it -’

‘Your turn,’ he says, so warm, so sweet, ‘Go ahead, baby. Long as it’s only yourself you’re touchin’.’ 

Your fingers flutter to your clit, swiping it gently, so sensitive, and you grit your teeth.

‘Only me.’ You repeat, and you can picture Joel’s answering smile. All teeth.

‘Just you, baby girl. No touchin’ no one else. Not even Frankie.’

You stay silent, moving your hips now to drag your soaked folds against the pillow. Your head falls to your shoulder, and you moan long and loud, wondering whether you can convince Frankie, whether you’ve got enough time together to film the two of you - watching each other, then Frankie stretching you out, filling you with his cum. Something you could send to Joel and Santi, a little treat, a little teaser. 

You’ve been quiet for too long. And Joel knows. He always knows.

‘You gonna break the rules, baby girl?’ He coos. 

You smile, as though he’s read your mind.

‘How much trouble will I be in if I do?’ You ask through a moan, biting your lip.

He chuckles down the line at you. 

‘I don’t know, sugar,’ he drawls, ‘But you could always find out.’

The line clicks and beeps as he hangs up, and you stare down at your phone in disbelief. The signal must have dropped. 

Just as you fumble to press the call button again, a text flies through.

Night, babygirl x

And then another - 

Try to be good. I know it’s hard for you

You huff a laugh as you drop the phone into your lap, hips curling again over the pillow beneath you. Sonofabitch. 

You’ll behave as badly as you damn well please.

———

You and Frankie make quick work of dinner the next evening. Your hands are clammy at the dinner table, pulse fast in your neck, a flush passing high over Frankie’s collar the whole time.

He makes even faster work of the drive back to yours, scraping through red lights as you pull your skirt higher, as you skate your fingers over your thighs, over your panties, watching him the whole time. There’s a wonderful thrill when you catch him looking, when his eyes meet yours and then drift to your hands, how dark they are in the passing streetlights, the white-knuckle grip of his hands on the wheel.

You can feel the heat of him behind you as you unlock the front door, the hunger of wanting his hands on you, pushing you through the doorway, the press of his chest against your back. But you can wait. You can be good.

You move through to your kitchen with him trailing behind you, and you’re grabbing two beers from your fridge before the question of do you want a drink? is even out. When you turn to face him again, Frankie is dangerously, dangerously close. You can smell the musk of his skin, see every changing fleck of colour in his eyes, and it’s too much. You’re pressing the bottle into his chest at the same time as you’re tipping your head for a kiss, eyelids fluttering closed. He takes both bottles from your hands and places then somewhere behind you before caging you in with his thick arms, his mouth in a tight, serious line. You arch your back subconsciously, but he seems to anticipate every movement of your body; somehow still always millimetres away, like the ghost of a man pressed up against you, a layer of film between you.

He leans in so close that you can taste the hot breath he’s pouring into your mouth, so close you can feel the air moving when he tells you, so softly -

‘Take your clothes off. And sit on the couch.’

You strip yourself as you watch him do the same, eyes blown wide by every stretch of bare skin that’s revealed to you. And it is not fair. So unfair that Frankie is finally naked in front of you - so gorgeous - long-limbed and tan, beautiful cock hard and heavy between his thick thighs - and you are unable to touch him.

You clench your jaw, sat back and stretched out like a cat at one end of the sofa, petting yourself as you watch him come towards you and lower himself onto the cushion next to you. 

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to fall back into the rhythm you found last night. It’s hypnotic. The movements, the sounds, the words. Watching Frankie is heady, intoxicating. It feels like you’re watching something happen outside of your own body, and you find yourself surprised as you move to kneel beside him, as you swing a leg over his legs so you’re straddling him. You’re so wet, so warm that you’re sure the night could pass for a summer’s day. Your skin is glimmering with sweat, same as Frankie’s. You search his eyes to find him staring back at you, just as fucked out, just as woozy. You moan, hot little pants dripping past your lips. He echoes you.

You sit back on his thighs, your fingers diving in and out of you as you watch his fist work furiously around his cock. Something warm and hot, greedy and possessive swells inside of you. He looks delicious like this, spread out in front of you, wanting and needy. His cock thick, swollen, dribbling. It twitches as you watch him, and you moan somewhere beyond your consciousness. Need, your body whispers. Need. You inch forwards, lifting your hips higher, higher, Frankie watching you like he’s somewhere outside his body. You take his hand from his cock, fingers slippery with his precum, and place it at your hip. You grind into your hand at the slick feeling, pulling your fingers out with a wet sound and hovering above him, gripping his cock so you can brush the swollen head of it against your clit. Frankie shudders, his body going slack, and you almost come from the sensation alone. You lower your hips just a little, bracing the mushroom of his tip at the tight ring of your entrance. 

You gonna break the rules, babygirl?

‘Hermosa -’ he breathes, suddenly unsure.

You huff against him, everything too tight, too heady. Need.

‘Shhh, it’s okay,’ you whisper. ‘It’s okay, just a little bit. Just wanna feel you a little bit.’

‘But -’ he’s cut off by his own loud whine, unable to protest as you fit his head just inside your pussy. You throb around him, at the stimulation it brings. You clutch at his shoulder, head falling forwards at the stretch. Fuck, you could absolutely come like this. You need him deeper, need him to to fill you, but -

Oh, he is so good. 

His hands are like steel at your hips, keeping you in place. Frankie doesn’t want to disobey, doesn’t want to get in trouble. His grip speaks to that, his wide eyes, the sweat at his temple. But you can see on his face as you drip down him, the clutch of Joel’s control doesn’t hold nearly enough power when faced with what he truly wants.

You move back and forth a little, still with his tip just inside, moaning brokenly at the feel of it, and his eyelids flutter closed as something like a prayer brushes past his lips.

Frankie is good, but you are so, so bad. 

You drop your hips down further, and his fingers flex against your skin as he gasps, a high, keening noise reverberating from his chest.

‘Jesus Christ -’ he groans.

‘Fucking - hell, Frankie -’

He’s a lot. You can feel yourself adjusting as you slide down his length, your promise quickly forgotten. Greedy fuckin’ girl. But you can’t help yourself, brain short circuiting, body molten as you take him in inch by inch. It’s too much, all consuming. There’s no space for another thought, any more consideration as he fills you, as you take what you need. 

He whimpers as you bottom out, grinding against the curls at his base, breathing heavily.

‘So good,’ you whisper, ‘So good, you know that?’

Your head hangs forward against his shoulder as you gulp down air, as you feel yourself clench and leak around him, as he twitches inside you. After moments in almost silence, you lean back to look down at him.

His eyes are glassy, fucked out as he looks back at you.

You lift your hips, and the moan he lets out is pained. Your skin is on fire, and you want his hands everywhere.

‘Frankie, touch me.’

‘I can’t -’

‘You can,’ you grit, ‘You can, because I told you to.’

He moans again, and suddenly he’s everywhere. He knows where you need to be touched like you’ve done this before, his fingertips scorching and cooling as he strokes your thighs, your neck, as he grips your ass. Encouraged, you continue to move, slowly rocking up and down on his cock, breathing raggedly. Every noise that escapes the two of you seems to come without being registered, something primal, starved. Already, the coil is tightening, your body racing towards where it needs to be, and you know it will be intense, all-consuming to come around him, so thick inside of you. You lean further forwards, and he takes the opportunity to press his mouth to your sternum, licking the skin before turning his head to take a nipple in his mouth - hot and wet and sucking, lathing it with his tongue.

‘Fuck,’ you hiss, moving faster, chasing, chasing what is so close. You grip the hair at the back of his head, tugging and keeping him close to your breast, keening against him.

‘Like that,’ you gasp, ‘Yeah, like that baby, god, so good, you’re so good for me, feel so good baby boy, you have no idea -’

You can feel yourself tighten and tighten, and Frankie holds you harder, force that feels so delicious you don’t even care about the hurt, not until it turns to iron, not until he rips his mouth away from you -

‘I’m gonna come -’ he whimpers, gripping your hips so tight you couldn’t move if you wanted to. ‘Please, baby, please - stop - I can’t - I’ll come -’

Hot desperation claws up your chest. You are so close, so close, but he looks so wildly at you that you stop trying to move, try to force back tears of frustration as you lean forwards to kiss him as sweetly as you can. Spit-slick and swollen, you pull back and rest your forehead to his. Try to think straight, tell him what he needs to hear.

‘No you won’t,’ you coo, taking his face in your hands, thumbs stroking his cheekbones. You put everything into your gaze, all your warmth, all your care for him, try to make him see how good this is. He stares up at you, eyes wide, dark. Panicked. Panicked at the thought of disappointing you. ‘You won’t, Frankie. It’s okay, you’re not gonna come.’ You try to shift a little so you can settle on your thighs to soothe him, but he clenches his eyes shut at your movement and whimpers louder, his mouth screwing up. 

‘Please don’t move,’ he whispers, ‘Just wait, - just -’

You lean forward and press a kiss to his hairline, feeling his tip move slowly to a shallower part of you. Fuck.

‘Relax, baby boy,’ you murmur, and he sucks in a breath. ‘Concentrate. I’m gonna sit down, and you are not going to come, okay?’

You wait, but Frankie still has his eyes screwed shut, nostrils flaring, fingers bruising against your skin. The tense feeling in your chest swells again. 

‘Frankie.’ You say sharply, and he jumps out of himself, eyes flashing open to yours. ‘I’m gonna sit back down. Take a deep breath.’

Frankie watches you as he breathes in through his nose, and you move at the sound of his airflow. His hands slacken at your hips, and he moans, low and long. 

‘That’s it,’ you say, sinking all the way down, writhing helplessly at his base. You’re already both so close. ‘Good boy. How are you doing?’

Frankie breathes shallowly as you adjust around his cock. His cheeks are red, hair sweaty. His lips are bitten, bleeding through one crack of skin, eyes almost entirely black. You scratch at the curls at the nape of his neck, massaging the tendons there.

‘Okay,’ he croaks. You try not to think of how he feels inside you. How full you feel, how stretched out. He’s thick and nestled in deep - not as far as Joel - but the ache you feel around his girth is delicious. Fuck, this was a bad idea. You should have just hopped off him, let him slide out so you could both catch your breath. And now, instead, you’re managing to edge the two of you even further. 

You know you can’t last long, and you know, from the desperate look on Frankie’s face, that he won’t either, no matter what you do. It feels crueller to stop now than it does to keep going, to watch him deny himself like this, to feel you deny yourself, too. You can feel your pussy tightening and leaking around him at the thought, the ache, the need that’s just there -

‘I have to move, baby -’

‘No -’ he chokes, ‘Please, hermosa, just a minute -’

‘I have to, Frankie, I - you feel too good, baby, I need to move. Wanna come, wanna see you come, too -’

Frankie’s iron grip returns to your hips as they lift of their own accord, and he hisses, head bowed, at the movement. You moan hoarsely.

‘It’s okay,’ you pant, gripping his chin in one hand, lifting his face to yours. ‘Listen to me, it’s okay. Focus now.’ You begin to move up and down him again, the slow drag of his cock tightening your grip on his face but loosening the hold you have on your body. You whimper, pussy fluttering around him. Frankie groans, breathlessly whispers your name, a pleasepleaseplease -

‘I know you can last as long as I need you to, baby,’ you whisper. ‘You’ve done it before, haven’t you?’ Frankie whines, his eyes rolling back, mouth falling slightly open. You can’t stop the moan that bubbles up your throat - him edging himself as he watched you the night before, eyes stuck on your fingers, your pulses, your wetness. You feel him throb inside you as he nods drunkenly. ‘That’s it, good boy. I know it feels good, but you can last a little longer. I know you can, Frankie. You’re doing so well.’

His fingers clutch at the swell of your hips, weak, sweaty, and you clench so hard around him that it’s a challenge to drag his cock through your walls. You breathe shallowly, slowing the pace again, and Frankie watches you through heavy lidded eyes. He licks his bottom lip.

‘Come,’ he breathes, a hand leaving your hip so he can thumb your clit. You hiss, hips stuttering so hard you sink all the way down onto him, grinding his tip into your womb. Frankie grits his teeth. ‘Come, hermosa,’ he tells you again, and you can feel the savage heat, pussy winding tighter and tighter, your body about to burst. Quietly, with a command he’s not had in his voice until now, Frankie says your name. Come. Now.

Your orgasm is blinding. You cease to exist in the corporeal world for an indeterminate time, coming to only when Frankie pulls you to his chest, his hips pressing up into you as you milk him. You’re achingly aware of the way his cock jumps inside of you as he pumps you full of cum, of the way his fingers grip and bruise your body, of the way you sink your teeth into his shoulder as you continue to throb around him.

‘Fuck.’ you bite out, resting your forehead against his as you pant into each other’s mouths. Minutes tick by, Frankie’s harsh grip turning to soft caresses, and you press chaste kisses to his nose, his forehead, his lips, before you rest your head against his collar bone. He takes a deep breath.

‘Baby,’ he starts. You watch his throat bob as he swallows, searching for what he’s about to say. You squeeze his middle gently. ‘Joel -’

‘Is my problem,’ you breathe, ‘I did this. It’s on me. He knew I’d break the rules.’

He swallows, nods.

‘Okay.’

You press a kiss to his neck, and he visibly relaxes.

‘It’s okay,’ you murmur. ‘No one’s gonna be mad at you. No one’s gonna be mad, full stop.’ He makes a noise of appreciation somewhere in his throat. 

You bite your lip and lean back, fixing him with a wicked grin.

‘Besides, this is all part of the foreplay.’

‘The foreplay?’ He whispers, brow furrowing.

You nod, humming at the feeling of his cum slipping from the warmth of your cunt.

‘You really thought he’d just come in your mouth?’

His eyes darken, a huff slipping from his kiss-bitten lips. He brings your hand from his neck to his mouth and bites down on the flesh of your palm. You giggle again.

‘Mm, you like that, baby boy? Like the idea of daddy playing with you, too?’

‘Stop.’ He groans, ‘You keep talking like that, and -’

‘There’ll be a round two?’ you tease. ‘Doesn’t sound like a bad thing to me,’ you smile, feeling him twitch inside you. ‘In fact,’ you continue, ‘That sounds like something a very good boy would do.’

‘Stop talking,’ he growls, ‘And take me upstairs. I remember something about you promising to let me taste you.’

The smile that grows across your lips is impossible to hide.

———

Pope wasn’t fucking around when he told you Frankie was good with his mouth.

He wakes you the next morning with more of what he gave you last night, his tongue warm and wet against your cunt, lapping and kissing and sucking until you’re sweating and writhing above him, hands fisted in his hair.

He likes that.

Likes biting marks into your thighs, making you moan and cry and come again and again. Likes when you’re a little mean, when you tell him what to do, when you hold him afterwards, when you let him fill you and fuck you until you’re both whimpering and covered in cum and slick.

The three days that follow pass in a blur of not touching and definitely touching. Frankie quickly becomes accustomed to waking wrapped up in your bed, your arm thrown over his side, and you quickly become accustomed to the sweet praises that drip from his lips as he slots himself inside you - how tight and sweet you are, how he can’t believe he fits in so well. How he can’t wait to share you, properly this time.

He bends you over the kitchen table after you’ve finished eating dinner, licking into you before splitting you open, and you take him in your mouth on your knees in the shower, making sure to remind him of how pretty he is, how good he feels in your mouth. You work him open with your fingers, your tongue, curling them inside him just to watch him struggle not to come so fast. It’s gorgeous. And when you’re too sore and swollen to have each other again, you find yourself cradled between his thighs, your back to his chest as he circles your clit gently with two fingers, kissing your neck and grinding himself against you as you moan, as you remind him how you need to get to work.

‘I know, baby,’ he murmurs, ‘Just wanna watch you come again.’

It’s feverish, it’s risky. You try to be a good liar, but you’re sure Joel knows. Knows you well enough, anyway, to guess that it would happen at some point. Which just means he must have been planning what he’d do to you after finding out for some time, too. You try to be careful as the week goes on - planning to wash your sheets, to not have Frankie in the house when Pope or Joel return. To just try and make it look like you succeeded, that you listened. That you were good.

You’re on your elbows and knees, body weak, pussy swollen and dripping as Frankie spears you from behind when the text comes. It’s Santi.

I’ll be home 2morrow. Look forward to seeing u 2.

One more time, Frankie gasps. Once more like this, and then you can wait. 

The two of you can wait until tomorrow.

———

You wait all day for Santi.

And you try to be good, you really do. But Frankie’s mouth is just so convincing.

He’s not allowed to bite, not allowed to leave any marks. He has permission to make you come, and then he has to clean you up again like nothing ever happened. You’re not going to touch him, and he’s not going to touch himself. He’ll have to save it for when Pope gets here. Which, as it’s turned out, is much later than he said. But not late enough to miss the show.

‘Am I interrupting?’

Frankie lurches away from between your thighs like he’s been scorched, backing up towards the end of the bed. He looks so surprised, so worried, that you snort at him, still so caught up in the throes of pleasure to not be too worried about Pope’s reappearance.

He looks good. A healthy glow to his skin, tight black top, his curls perfectly framing his face. His mouth is twisted into its most alluring smirk, and you watch it deepen at the flush of Frankie’s cheeks and the way you snake a hand between your legs.

‘Not at all, baby,’ you coo, and his eyes darken, following the path of your hand. It’s ingrained into you now, how Pope touched you last. The memory rushes through you, and you moan softly, the noises your hand is making against your wet folds so obscene. Still watching, he peels his belt from its loops, curling it in his fist.

He jerks his chin at Frankie.

‘You at least make her beg for it?’

You huff a small laugh, thinking back on how not thirty minutes ago Frankie had been on his knees in front of you, begging for a taste, begging to lick your cunt. 

Santi’s eyes shoot to you and the amusement on your face, and he steps forward with a smile.

‘Should have known,’ he says gently, through a smile. His palm cups your cheek, and you nestle into his touch, forgetting that whatever punishment Joel might have thought up, Santi might share. He traces your skin down your jaw, your neck, across your clavicles and down the arm closest to him. He holds your wrist, and pulls it up to his mouth where he can kiss your knuckles in greeting. ‘Hello, querida.’

You look back at him with wide, lust-blown eyes. ‘Hey, Santiago.’ 

He takes you in greedily, eyes scouring over your bare body, scrutinising so intensely that you almost feel self-conscious. 

‘What do we have here?’ he purrs, his spare hand reaching over you, thumbing your nipple. You whine and arch against his touch, fingers moving faster, and he tuts, shaking his head. ‘This will never do, cielo.’ He squeezes your breast firmly before running his fingers down the length of your arm, gripping your other wrist to bring your wet fingers to his mouth. He parts his lips and presses them in gently, and you mewl, hips bucking, as he works his tongue over the digits. His eyes are dark, boring into you, only distracted by the heavy breath Frankie takes from the other end of the mattress. He releases your fingers quickly.

‘No.’ he barks at the other man, and you swing your head to look at Frankie, a hand frozen mid-pull on his cock, face flushing an even deeper shade of red. ‘Did I tell you you could touch yourself?’

Frankie shakes his head frantically, hands moving to his sides.

‘Did I?’

‘No.’ he whispers, breathless, apologetic. Pope jerks his head again, over his shoulder. 

‘Off the bed.’

Frankie unfurls his limbs to stand at the bedside, cock heavy and bobbing against his stomach as Santi easily joins your wrists with one hand. It takes you too long to work out what he’s doing - his belt already curled around your hands before you make a noise of protest, silenced by a hard look from him. He twists the leather around your hands twice before tying them to the bedframe above you, giving a sharp pull to test the give. Your chest heaves, something sparking inside you as he cups your cheek gently.

‘Good?’

‘Yes, Santi.’ You murmur, taking your cue from how he admonished Frankie.

He steps back, admiring his handiwork, looking pleased.

‘Maybe that’ll help you keep your hands to yourself.’ He says, half-turning to Frankie.

‘Down.’

Frankie drops to his knees at the command, and you moan, thighs clenching, arms straining above your head, tight to your eyes. Santi says something to you, muffled, and you try to relax again to hear him, a quiet hm? the only sound you can make.

He cocks his head at you, lips curled.

‘Lube, querida,’ he says, ‘Where do you keep it?’

You inhale sharply, mind buzzing. 

‘U-under the bed.’

Pope drops to his knees beside you, rifling around until he finds and pulls out a green box, ripping off the lid. His face splits in a dangerous, thrilled grin.

‘Now, what have we got in here?’

You watch with bated breath as Pope rummages through the box, your chest heaving, arms straining against the belt again. He throws the bottle of lube onto the bed before turning his attention back to your toys. He brings your wand into your line of sight, and you squeeze your eyes closed as he presses the button, the room filling with its buzzing sound. 

You flinch when he brings the vibrator into contact with your skin, tracing your nipples. Your eyes fly open to find him and Frankie watching you intently. 

‘Had a lot of time to think about this while I was away,’ Santi says, almost to himself, ‘But I’ve got much better ideas now.’

Pope licks his lips as he dips the wand lower, teasing it around the soft flesh of your thighs before resting it against your clit.

You yelp at the contact, body juddering.

‘Please, Santi,’ you cry, ‘Please -’ but he shushes you gently, stroking your hair as he lays the wand between your thighs, nestled in to where the feeling is most intense, most overwhelming. 

‘It’s okay, baby,’ he coos, ‘Just need you to hold that there, be a good girl.’ 

You whimper brokenly up at him, and he pouts at you, teasingly.

‘Listen to me,’ he says, and you hold your breath, ‘That’s gonna stay right there, against your pretty little pussy, and you’re not gonna come, are you, querida?’

Your brain buffers, jaw clenching against the heat rising through you, and Santi frowns at you.

‘Are you?’

The air bursts from your lungs as you moan out a no, rewarded with a smile.

‘Good girl.’ he says, dipping to pick something up from the floor. Your panties from where Frankie had stripped you of them earlier.

He taps your chin.

‘Open,’ your mouth falls open of its own accord, and Santi stuffs the lace in. ‘Something for you to bite down on.’

You huff, brow furrowing in concentration, desire, as Pope steps away again and moves towards Frankie.

Frankie, still on his knees, watching open mouthed, cock jumping as he takes you in - stretched out, bound and desperate. His eyes leave yours to watch Santi begin to strip himself of his clothes, and you join him, groaning at the slow show he gives you both. His smooth, tan skin, the muscles that ripple beneath. He unbuttons his jeans before stilling, eyes falling on Frankie.

‘Come here,’ Santi says, and Frankie shuffles forward instantly. ‘Good boy. Now take me out, and show our girl what else you can do with that mouth.’

Your eyes roll back into your skull, and your wrists tug at Santi’s belt. From behind the fabric in your mouth, Pope can hear your muffled fuck. He smirks down at Frankie.

‘Before she comes, hermano.’

‘Pope,’ Frankie breathes, shocked through his haze of arousal, confused, warning.

‘What?’ Santi says, cupping his cheek gently. ‘You don’t think I checked with Joel? Didn’t ask what you got up to before he left? Don’t worry, baby, I did. He just wants to know she’s being taken care of. The sooner you put me in your mouth, the sooner we can do just that.’

Frankie swallows visibly, flustered, eyes flicking to you before he reaches out to tug Santi’s jeans and boxers down, taking the other man’s hard cock in his hand, squeezing and pumping gently. He takes care to thumb over the precum that gathers at his tip, using it to ease the movement. Pope breathes out slowly before touching Frankie’s bottom lip with his thumb, parting his mouth. He joins Frankie’s hand at his base and taps the head of his cock where his thumb had just been, and Frankie opens wider, allowing space for Pope to slide in. He takes lazy thrusts as you watch with wide eyes, hips canting against the toy, cunt pulsing, body on fire - acutely aware that Frankie has a gag reflex to rival your own. The thought makes you giggle, a kind of pride blooming in your chest. So easy. Frankie stares up at his best friend with glassy eyes, cock leaking and untouched between his legs, palms resting, unflexed, atop his thighs. 

‘He’s a good toy, isn’t he, cielo?’ Pope hums, slowing the rhythm of his thrusts. ‘So good at just - taking it. Barely any fight in you, is there, baby boy?’

With his mouth full of Santi’s cock, Frankie can barely shake his head. The corners of Pope’s lips curl.

‘No. I’ll bet she hardly even had to ask you. Just a little while longer watching her and you’d have begged to feel her milk you yourself. Isn’t that right, Fish?’

Frankie moans beneath him, his cock dribbling and straining. You want so badly to have it on your tongue, in your hand, inside your pussy, that you whine again, louder. Santi’s eyes slide to you, mouth wide in a smirk. 

‘Quit whining, querida. We’ll be with you in a moment.’

You groan again as Pope twists his fingers in Frankie’s hair, cooing at him. 

‘Yeah, seems to you both thought to tell us how’d you’d watched, hm? It’s a pity you couldn’t wait to touch, though. Could have made this so much easier for yourselves.’ You wriggle your hips a little more, finding just the right angle, the right pressure. Oh, it’s so good. Too good. Your noises come louder, faster, and though Frankie’s eyes don’t leave Santi, his body twitches, finely attuned now, to how you sound before you come. As though he’s read Frankie’s mind, Pope’s eyes snap back to you.

‘Not yet.’ He bites. 

You breathe jagged, harsh breaths through your nose, eyes scrunching shut against the coil that’s tightening in your core. You’re so wet you can feel it dripping through your folds, straight onto the sheets, and you try to think of anything but the sound of Santi’s cock moving in Frankie’s throat. What groceries you need to buy, the post you need to hand to your neighbour, what you’ll wear to meet Sarah. Joel. Joel. Fuck, no. That makes it even worse.

You moan again, dangerously close to the edge, cracking open your eyes to see Frankie bobbing up and down Santi’s length, drool escaping the corners of his mouth. How his cheeks hollow, how he sinks down to the wiry hairs at the bottom, eyes fixed on Santi’s face, unwavering, swallowing; moving back up to kiss the tip, the spit that trails from his lips to Pope’s head, how Pope rocks his hips forward, chasing the sensation. How Santi groans for him, tomalo, mírame, tu boca, tan bonito -

Your hips stutter, now trying to move away from the vibrator as Pope’s hand finally grips Frankie’s curls, pulling him in closer, holding him still as he fucks his throat, and you try to get out a please, please, trying to back yourself down, trying so hard even though it would be so easy -

Santi’s gaze finds you, lost to the feeling of the other man’s mouth, and he smiles kindly.

‘Casi ahí, bebita.’

You shake your head, eyes pleading, desperate, teary, and he seems to take pity on you. He uses his grip on Frankie’s curls to ease him off slowly, marvelling at the way his cock emerges, glistening; at the way Frankies mouth still hangs open for him to fill. 

‘Should we help her out, baby?’ He asks softy.

Frankie looks to you, eyes glassy, cheeks flushed. Please, you try to moan again.

‘Yes.’ He says, voice hoarse.

Pope holds a hand out to him to help him off the floor, and Frankie stands on shaky legs. You try to will them to move faster, teetering on the edge, breath leaving you in great puffs, your body straining away from the toy, arms aching with the effort of trying to pull yourself away.

‘You ready to come, princesa?’ Santi murmurs.

You gurgle an mhm, sniffling as his hand moves low, hovering over the vibrator. Frankie bends, his cock angry and red still, to press a kiss to your temple.

‘Did so well,’ he whispers, ‘It’s okay, hermosa.’

Pope takes that as his cue to take hold of the wand.

Your back arches as he presses it down, harder against you, roving it back and forth for extra friction. You start to beg through your panties, knowing you can’t hold back anymore as your pussy turns traitor, beginning to flutter. Tears spill from the corners of your eyes, and Santi smiles.

‘Now.’ he whispers.

Your body pulls impossibly tight, giving in to the rush of fire that has been simmering, your muscles clenching painfully as sound and sight evade you. You can feel your lungs working, feel the choked gasps leaving you, feel your arms pulling at Santi’s belt, but you are somewhere outside your body. A rush courses through your body, and you feel yourself gushing between your thighs.

When you come to, blinking, body slick with sweat and your cum seeping down your legs, Pope is untying your hands. You drop them above your head, and Frankie takes your wrists, massaging them soothingly with his thumbs. Santi presses a tender kiss to your stomach, moving the vibrator away as you shiver and jerk with overstimulation.

‘So good, bebita,’ he says, ‘Atta girl. Look how well you behaved there.’

He presses his fingers into your mouth to remove the lace, and your tongue works around your gums to alleviate the dryness the fabric left.

‘Can you move?’ He asks gently, and you nod weakly, cinching at the waist to haul yourself up. He brings his palms to your shoulder, rubbing your skin as Frankie sits behind you, pressing kisses to the nape of your neck. ‘Well done, princesa.’

He brings you further forward, cradling you to his chest as he tells Frankie to lay back behind you, then angles your shoulder to turn and face him. Frankie looks fucked. His bare skin untouched, his cock dribbling precum, pooling at his stomach as you watch. His jaw is clenched like he’s trying to stop himself from begging, and you reach out to touch his thigh, trying to offer comfort in any way you can. He whimpers at the warmth of your skin.

‘Should we help him, querida?’ Pope whispers in your ear, your back still to his chest.

‘Yes.’ You answer, throat dry. He kisses your cheek, and you feel his smile.

‘Use your mouth, bonita.’

You move from Pope to settle yourself between Frankie’s legs on all fours, breathing kisses into his inner thighs before touching him, trailing a finger down his soft shaft. He hisses at the sensation, and you pause, meeting his eye. He swallows, nods.

‘Keep going.’ He rasps.

You pull yourself further up, mouthing at his underside, pressing kisses to his leaking tip before laving your tongue up and down his length. When his hips buck at the sensation, you move a palm to cup his balls and take him fully into your mouth, sucking and hollowing your cheeks, humming with the salty taste of him. His hands quickly find the side of your head, and you move back up towards his tip, licking into his slit to drink down more, playing with his frenulum in a way you know drives him insane. He moans, deep and needy, puffing out a soft fuck as you take him down to the base again, nuzzling the hair there, breathing him in. His cock jumps in your throat, and he looses a needy whine, pulling on your hair, but you don’t budge.

‘Hermosa -’ he breathes, voice tight, and Santi speaks again from behind you.

‘Are you gonna last, hermano?’

Frankie looks up from watching you, unfocused, swaying his head. Pope makes an amused sound, and you feel his hands on you, positioning you, then the press of his tip against your slick hole.

‘Just a little longer, Fish. So much to do with you two.’

Santi glides inside of you easily, but it’s still enough to knock the breath from your lungs. You moan around Frankie’s sensitive dick, and he gasps, hands tightening in your hair.

‘Please -’ he warns, ‘Please -’ as Pope pulls out and thrusts back in again. You cry out, moving back up to Frankie’s tip, moving up and down the best you can as Pope dives in and out of your pussy, knocking you forward to take Frankie deeper with each thrust. ‘Santi -’ Frankie grits, and the other man chuckles behind you. 

‘Alright,’ he says, ‘Don’t want to spoil the fun.’ 

You whine and pout at the loss as he withdraws from you completely, turning your head to find that he’s stripped himself of his jeans and underwear. He winks at you before giving you a little push.

‘Ride it, querida.’

You push yourself up eagerly, coming to straddle Frankie’s hips before positioning him at your entrance. He looks up at you with blown, lust filled eyes, absolutely ruined. 

Despite the stretch, you sink down onto him without stopping. 

He feels so good. Just like the first time.

You writhe down at his base as his hands shoot out to grip your hips, his beautiful neck straining as his grits his teeth, his abs flexing as he attempts to hold you still. But it didn’t work the first time, and it won’t work now.

You take yourself slowly up, smiling at the wet sound of the movement before sinking down again, feeling him stretch you out, feeling him in your stomach. It’s a delicious ache. You wonder what Joel would say right now, watching you take him so easily, watching how he fills you. Bet you can’t wait to know what his cock feels like inside you, huh? Can’t wait to be droolin’ and comin’ over him like you do me, hm? You clench tight around Frankie at the thought, at the same time as a little ache settles in your chest. You miss him. You miss him, and you wonder what he’d be doing with his hands, his mouth, his cock -

‘Que cosita mas linda.'

Santi’s voice brings you back as you bounce on Frankie’s lap, and you lift your head to look at the younger man, his eyes heavy-lidded, lip nipped between his teeth.

‘She gonna make you come like this, Francisco?’

At the use of his full name, all of the sounds Frankie has been trying to hold back break free from him. All of his pretty little gasps and moans, his whimpers, the way he pants your name as he clings to you, eyes never leaving where you’re joined as he pleads -

‘Can I? Can I come?’ 

You clench around him again, the knot in your belly snapping at his words, your orgasm blinding as it comes at you sideways. Frankie moans loudly, repeating your name. You gasp, high little pants of uh- uh- as you jolt on him, pain mixing with pleasure as you call his name, Santi’s name, Joel’s name -

‘Up. Off.’

Santi presses a palm to your backside to move you off of Frankie’s length, even as you still clench around him. 

‘Fuck,’ Frankie heaves, ‘Fuck, please, no -’ 

‘Quiet.’ Santi bites at him, and Frankie whines, his cock jumping between your folds at his tone. You close your eyes. 

‘Let him,’ you plead, ‘Please, let him, Pope.’

You wanted him to come, he deserved to come. You move your lips up and down his length, and Frankie chokes a moan, his body moving higher up the bed as Santi moves behind you, but you can’t work out why behind the darkness of your eyelids. Your eyes are still closed, body still quaking as Santi leans forward to press a kiss to the centre of your spine. You arch your back against his mouth and he chases you, pressing another slightly higher, scraping his teeth against your skin.

‘Querida,’ he says. You can only moan in response. You know it’s not what he wants, but your brain is so fuzzy it can’t comprehend anything beyond it.

‘Turn around,’ he says, and you whimper, eyelids fluttering as you scratch gently at Frankie’s chest. The man beneath you writhes at the feeling, head rolling, eyes closing, fingers flexing bruisingly on your hips. ‘Turn. Around.’ Santi grits, this time taking Frankie’s hands so he can prise them off you, gripping your waist in an effort to turn your body. 

There’s no graceful way to do it, but Frankie handles your limbs with gentle hands as you swing your legs around him. 

When you face Pope, the sight that greets you is even better than you could have imagined. 

He eyes you hungrily, carnally, his brow dark and hair curled more than you've ever seen. But your eyes are taken to where his fingers are sunk knuckle-deep into Frankie, pumping them slowly. You moan as he digs them in deeper before curling them, repeating the beckoning motion until Frankie’s belly twitches. At the tells of his orgasm, Pope removes the digits slowly, deaf to Frankie’s desperate begging. You watch, mute, as Pope then takes the bottle of lube from beside him, pouring it onto his cock with a quiet moan, jacking himself before pressing his tip to Frankie’s hole. You feel the man below you tense slightly, and you stroke his thighs, fallen open on either side of Santi, with soothing fingers. When he relaxes, one of Pope’s hands meets yours on his flesh, the other helping to guide himself in. You watch as his length is swallowed, breathing shallow, listening to any noise the pair make. Frankie’s ragged groan, the way he chants Pope, Jesus, fuck, his bruising grip back on your hips, Pope’s answering growl as his eyes roll to the ceiling before fluttering shut. When he bottoms out, you watch as his stomach flexes, eyes then drifting lower, where you can only see the coarse hair at the base of his cock, the rest of it buried inside Frankie. You feel your face crease as your stomach turns molten.

Your hips drop to the swell of Frankie’s stomach, searching for any kind of friction. It should be impossible to be this constantly turned on. You move your hips as Pope drags his cock in and out of Frankie once, twice, murmuring how tight he is, how pretty, how good, before his eyes find yours.

‘You want her to sit on your face, pretty boy?’ Santiago purrs at the man over your shoulder.

‘Oh, fuck, please.’ Frankie moans.

Pope jerks his chin at you, sending you shuffling clumsily backwards, blinded by how badly you need to feel something, eyes fixed again to where he thrusts in and out of the younger man, angling your hips above Frankie’s face. You only see his mouth open, tongue already out to lick a fat stripe through your folds, before he pulls you roughly down, moaning against you.

‘Jesus - fuck -’ you hiss, trying to jerk away. It’s too much, too soon, but Frankie is too strong, too desperate to taste you. Your hand flies out Santi’s chest, scratching his skin before trying to find purchase higher up. You take his neck between your thumb and fingers as Frankie eats at you, his mouth harsh and hungry as it sucks and licks. Santi stutters out a groan as you tilt his head at you and squeeze.

‘Make him come,’ you murmur, ‘Make him come, baby, and then you can show me what else you wanna do with us.’

Santi grins and pants against you, his hips faltering for a moment as he leans his neck further into the cradle of your hand. He nods quickly, eyes glazing and soft. You smile back at him, squeezing again, pleased.

‘Frankie always said you were a good soldier, Santiago,’ you coo. ‘Should have known what you really needed was to be told what to do.’

‘Fuck you.’ He grins against your lips.

You answer it with a pathetic, needy little whine.

‘Mm, yes please, baby.’

Frankie takes the moment to suck particularly hard at your clit, and you feel your face crumple - one hand scrabbling at the younger man’s belly, the one at Santi’s neck now gripping the shoulder of the man fucking him. Frankie works diligently at your cunt, anchoring your hips to him as he devours you ravenously, letting the tip of his nose rest just inside your entrance as he flicks your bud with his tongue, swirling it in circles as you grind against him. 

This orgasm comes slow, like wading through treacle. It drips down your spine as you curve over Frankie, gasping and shuddering, so breathless that even Pope slows down. Frankie must feel you jolt and twitch above him, lapping up the last of your cum before he releases you from his grip. You lift your hips quickly, needing reprieve, aftershocks still knocking through you as you pant against Santi’s chest.

‘So good,’ you breathe, loud enough for Frankie to hear, ‘So good to me, baby boy, aren’t you?’

Pope presses a kiss to your hair as you work a fist around Frankie’s cock, squeezing his base. He jumps beneath you, a heady, keening noise wailing from his now unoccupied mouth, and you squeeze him tighter, pumping him once, twice, his shaft slick with your juices and his precum.

‘You’ll make him come.’ Pope warns, and you hum against him, forehead just above his sternum. You’re too lost in the way his cock looks as it disappears into Frankie.

The door opens so quietly you don’t hear it, but Santi does. How he keeps his wits about him despite what’s happening is beyond you. He stills his movements inside Frankie, and you feel his damp breath against your forehead, head dipping as he nudges your cheek with his jaw, turning your face towards it. 

‘Look who’s home.’ He murmurs into your ear. 

Your stomach swoops.

Joel stands in the doorway. His nose and brow are rosy from working in the sun, your favourite flannel draped over his broad shoulders, a grin twisting his lips as he takes the scene in. His eyes dip from yours to your tits, to the way your body curls over Frankie’s. He takes in the man laying beneath you - his face shining with your cum, blissed and fucked out. The rise and fall of his tummy, the way his thighs are splayed to make room for Pope. The way Santi can’t help but flex inside him, earning a ragged groan from both of them, up the other man’s torso, his neck, to the dark eyes watching him back. It’s breathtaking. 

Joel cocks his head.

‘Don’t stop on my account,’ he drawls, ‘Y’all make such a pretty picture.’

You swallow loudly, letting your head fall back to Santi’s warm shoulder, panting before looking back at him. Something swirls in your gut, and you speak before even realising.

‘Come here,’ you whisper, voice cracking. ‘Come here and make it even prettier, daddy.’

The three of you watch as Joel steps towards you, letting the door fall shut behind him.

help with spanish translations from @/urmomsgnocchi's invaluable post here. if there are inaccuracies, please drop me a message <3

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #santiago garcia #santiago garcia x reader #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller x frankie morales x santiago garcia x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #joel miller x frankie morales x reader

[huboi]

poly baby

[scara, heizou + kazu x ftm! reader]

╰┈➤ includes; mentions of periods, slightly suggestive content, reader is referred to as bbg once, mentions of smoking w**d, mentions of alcohol, mentions of s*x

╰┈➤ decided to make this cause y not? btw if it’s not clear reader is in a poly relationship with scara, kazuha and heizou

╰┈➤ this content is rated 16+ for the suggestive themes, if I see you interacting with this post and you have no age or gender in your bio you will be blocked

╰┈➤ FEM ALIGNED DNFI!!!

he’s a streamer, don’t ask why or how ik, I just know that he’s a streamer

has so many simps (as he should), they don’t give a fuck that he degrades tf outta them, they live for that shit

usually plays rpg games, sometimes plays horror games now and again

when he’s feeling generous, he will stream you and your other boyfriends cooking/baking

if u don’t want to show ur face then dw he’s making extra sure that your face is hidden from the cameras view

sometimes when he’s streaming you will randomly pop up in his room. as soon as chat sees you, they just start spamming stuff like ‘OMG ITS HIS BOYFIE’, ‘HE’S SO BBYGIRL’ etc.

scara ignores his chat obviously, and asks you y ur bothering him. 9/10 times you’re just there cause u want cuddles. sometimes ur there to give him food since he sometimes forgets to eat when he’s streaming for so long, ur his malewife what can he say?

when ur on ur period he’ll try his best to not be so angy cause he knows ur extra sensitive during this time, if he’s feeling generous he buys u sum food/chocolate etc.

want cuddles? beg/hj, he’ll tease tf outta u cause y not

scara and kazu are like ying and yang in a way, scara is pretty much the opposite of kazu. when scara is feeling up to it, he will hold kazuhas hand at random times

scara and heizou both banter 24/7, don’t worry tho usually if they get too fired up they just take it out on each other by aggressively making out. yes u have walked in on them a few times, but decided to leave them to it or just ignore them whilst u just go about ur business

scara does not give u any nicknames, he just doesn’t rlly like nicknames, he’ll just refer to u as ur name cause he prefers that, he refuses to be all mushy and lovey dovey. dw tho sometimes he does cave in to that kind of affection, but only indoors

defo not into pda, furthest he’ll do with any of u guys is hand holding, and that’s it.

one time scara ended the stream because he wanted sum loving, turns out the stream was still on, safe to say that his chat has never forgotten about it, they always find a way to bring it up. what was the loving u ask? he just wanted u to sit on his lap whilst he gives u kisses whilst calling u his pretty boy <33

heizou is like the 2nd goofiest goober (no.1 position goes to scara sorry pookie bear😭)

I feel like he’s defo a pierced, idk I just get the vibes that he pierces people for a living

he has a nose piercing, both ears pierced and nipple piercings

likes to annoy scara when he’s streaming, like he’ll just open the door and stand there like 🧍

he loves you so much, like-

one time he came home when it was pouring down, as soon as he came through the door hr just beelined straight towards you (yes, you got very wet) heizou recommended that you two could shower together (safe to say kazuha and scara heard everything)

heizou and kazuha get along very well, most likely since they’ve known each other through tomo for a while

speaking of, sometimes tomo visits the house so that he and kazuha, sometimes along with heizou, like to smoke that zaza

don’t worry, they do it responsibly

heizou is low-key lightweight, wether it be zaza or alcohol, he gets affected very quickly compared to the others

the 2nd best when it comes to comforting you on your period, he mainly is best for buying you snacks/chocolate or whatever you’re craving

so whilst kazuha comforts you, heizou races to the shop to buy as much stuff as quickly as he possibly can before you end up fist fighting scara for being a pice of shit with you knowing damn well you’re dealing with shark week

heizou loves PDA, like yes sir

he can’t keep his hands off of any of you, mainly you tho

he and scara argue a lot but it’s not like bad arguments, it’s like rlly petty ones yk?

“YOU KISSED Y/N EVEN THOUGH TODAY ONLY I CAN KISS Y/N!” “IDFC!” *aggressive make out intensifies*

heizou hogs the blanket when you guys are sleeping too 😭

like you will all just be sleeping and all of a sudden yoink

yes you have to hit him awake with the pillow cause my man can sleep through a whole ass earthquake istg

I feel like heizou is very good at make outs, sos I don’t make the rules, he does

he just gives me those vibes you know

heizou is like a puppy sometimes, like you’ll be cooking ( let him cook ) and all of a sudden you’ll get jumpscared by a shirtless in boxers heizou hugging you from behind

the amount of times he nearly gave you a fucking heart attack 📈

KAZUHA

he’s the most chill out of all 4 of you guys

he’s also high a lot, but it doesn’t affect him as much as it does with heizou and scramouche

he’s also a streamer, mainly cause scara introduced him to streaming

his fans love him, like low key yandere/hj

his fans love everything about him; his looks, his aesthetic, the fact he’s high a lot, his voice (can u blame them?)

yes, he and scara stream together sometimes

in the chat so many people gush about how cute they act at times, cause when scara isn’t being a lil’ shit he’s actually kinda nice and can be shy surprisingly

yes kazu does have piercings; ears, nose, tongue and di-

kazuha is quite affectionate but not extremely so like heizou, it’s just more casual

kazuha is extremely open to hugs and kisses whenever and wherever, so he’s ok with PDA

you want a hug in the supermarket? ok

want a kiss on the cheek on the bus? ok

want his d at home in the privacy of your room? ok

yeah kazu isn’t very kinky, he’s more vanilla, sometimes he’s kinky but rarely, only when he gets jealous ( which is truly a sight to behold )

kazu is a switch, it depends on who he’s with; if it’s with all 3 of you, switch. If only one other person is with him, he likes to top ( he’s a soft dom )

prepare for sooooo many cat videos from him, no matter what time of day at some point each and every day he will send each of you at least 5 cat videos

yes he technically has a cat but no, his friend tomo, who happens to be his ex, actually owns his cat (they got the cat when they were together so technically it’s both of theirs)

dw, tomo and kazu broke up just cause they didn’t have feelings for each other anymore like that, so they’re still very good friends

sometimes the boys get jealous and so after tomo comes around and seems a bit too close for their liking, well let’s just say you hear a lot of banging noises upstairs

are you jealous? no. mainly cause you have talked to tomo and it’s pretty obvious they’re just besties, they just sit very close together since they enjoy the closeness of each other if that makes sense

when sleeping, kazuha is strangely still, like scarily so

sometimes it seems as if he’s not even breathing so you get a big fright but he’ll suddenly let out a huge sight in his sleep, which calms you down

he’s actually a light sleeper believe it or not, he just falls asleep quite easily, he just sleeps deeply too

but the slightest of noises can just get him right up, wide awake as if he wasn’t sleeping in the first place

when it comes to dates, he usually takes whoever he’s taking with him on a nice walk in order to enjoy nature in general

he doesn’t really like fancy stuff unless if it’s an important day/anniversary eg. your birthday

he’s an amazing listener, like if you wanna talk to him about how you’re feeling, or just rant about your hyperfixations, he’ll just sit there and listen, nodding now and again to show he’s listening and not just staring off into space

scara and kazu get along fairly well, despite scaras opposite personality

sometimes he does have to put scara in his place if he’s being bratty in public or in front of guests etc. 😳

yes kazu is a brat tamer too, mainly only with scara and heizou since they can get a bit out of hand at times

if you’re a brat then…. prepare yourself

dont worry about the aftercare (wether it be a vanilla session or a tough session) he’s the best at aftercare, he will get you all the drinks and snack you need, he also helps you into the bath and helps wash up

when you’re on your period he mainly helps by soothing you with his voice but also cuddles and kisses

content belongs to @huboi on tumblr, DO NOT REPOST ON ANY SOCIAL MEDIA PLATFORMS WHATSOEVER

#genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #genshin x ftm reader #genshin headcanons #genshin fluff #genshin crack #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x male reader #genshin impact x ftm reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact crack #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x male reader #Scaramouche x ftm reader #scaramouche headcanons #Scaramouche fluff #heizou x reader #heizou x male reader #heizou x ftm reader #heizou headcanons #heizou fluff #kazuha x reader #kazuha x male reader #kazuha fluff #kazuha headcanons #kazuha x ftm reader

[foreststranger]

DAN FENG - Tethering The Sky and Reaching For Heaven

ꜱᴛᴀʀʀɪɴɢ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

↳ 『honkai: star rail』dan feng/imbibitor lunae/yinyue jun (ugh can he stop having so many names??? it makes tagging a complete nightmare) x gn!reader

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

↳ parting ways with silly dragon guy before he reincarnates and dies idk idgaf abt his backstory 👍👍👍

𑁍 ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1.0k

ɴᴏᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

↳ surprise!!!! yet another short fanfic abt a long haired man! anyways happy early 1.3! i wish everyone a very e6 lynx and good luck on whoever you’re pulling for. ALSO HOW TF DO YOU DO CHINESE DIMINUTIVES/HONOURIFICS IN X READER FICS??? 阿Y/N???? OR MAYBE IN PINYIN??? a’y/n or ah’y/n??? OR WOULD IT BE LIKE 阿[the first character of your name] LMFAO

“What do you mean ‘you’re leaving?’ Where are you going?” You ask, taking a step closer to him, trying in vain to figure him out.

“We won’t see each other again. I’ve… done something horrible.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“…It’s not our main concern as of now. I’m sure my punishment will come for me soon. I don’t know how much time I have left with you.”

“Okay, what’s going on? I still have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’ll understand soon. I’d just like to spend one final moment with you.” Dan Feng grabs ahold of your hands, his grip almost painful as his fingers lock with yours.

“Are you… You don’t love me anymore?” A thousand thoughts rush through your head, yet none of them makes sense. “Do you want to see other people?”

“No, no, no. Of course not. That’s not what I meant. I meant that…” He pauses, concentrating. “We don’t have much time left.”

“But what does that-“

“Forget it. Would you just follow me, 心肝? Humour me. Please.” Your eyebrows furrow at the odd hypocorism. Before you can answer him, Dan Feng is leading you towards the dock. Bright yellow ginkgo leaves drift down from the sky, signalling a change in the year as they fall. There’s a scent in the early autumn air, and it reeks of… gloom; fraught with melancholy and a lingering anxiety that seems to cling to you. It whispers into your ear sweet serenades, singing a cacophony of incoming danger. The signal of change grows to a warning.

“Why are we heading towards the water?”

“Please, 亲爱的. Do not question me right now. Just… let us have a simple conversation. Would that be alright?” He sighs as the two of you exit the main area of the Alchemy Commission.

“I guess… You’re acting weird, you know that?” you sigh. “How was your day?”

“Great. And yours?” He answers a little too quickly.

“It’d be better if I knew what was happening.” Dan Feng turns his head to look back at you, a million words he wants to say are hidden behind his watery eyes.

Your shoe gets stuck in a crack in the stone walkway as you’re busy staring at him. You stop to pull it out but Dan Feng yanks on you, your shoe slipping off of your foot as he continues walking.

“Hey, wait! 枫仔! My shoe!” He doesn’t let go, his hand shaking in yours with a sense of urgency. “How am I supposed to walk without it?” You hop on a single foot, trying to keep up with his pace. In response, he picks you up into a bridal carry, cradling you like a parent would for their child.

“O-oh. Uh… okay. I guess I don’t mind…” You look up at his trembling jaw. Whatever’s going on, it must be very important to Dan Feng. If only he’d spit it out already so that you could offer your comfort. But the most you can offer right now is a small kiss. You bring your head up, pressing your lips against his cheek before resting your head back down on his forearm. The display of affection causes Dan Feng to stop in his tracks, but he quickly starts walking again.

“I...” He clears his throat, a light blush blossoming on his face. “That… means a lot to me right now. Thank you.”

“It’s the least I could offer you, 枫仔. You look so sad… Tell me what’s wrong.” He looks towards the horizon and the setting sun, a forlorn expression painting his face. The shadows of the evening light leave him looking especially somber. For a moment, he wants to tell you the whole truth. But he holds himself back to spare your feelings.

“I’m going somewhere. And… I won’t be returning. I am sorry, [name]. Truly. I do not wish to part ways but…” He looks down at you. A tear drips off of his face and onto yours. “There is nothing to be done about it. I… wouldn’t have done it if I realized the consequences sooner.”

“You’re… not joking. Would you tell me where you’re going? And when? Why are you being so vague?” You still couldn’t grasp the concept.

“亲爱的，you would hate me if I told you the whole truth. I could not leave knowing that you despised me. But… I’m sure you’ll find out soon when the news gets out.” Dan Feng looks back up towards the sky. You follow his gaze towards a few clouds that are coloured a hue of red from the sunset.

“I love you dearly. I apologize… I have forgone our future and forsaken you. Please remember me as someone you loved, and not a traitor to the Luofu.”

“Er… okay…? You’re really leaving?”

“Yes, I am afraid so…”

“…I love you too. Wherever you’re going, don’t forget that, okay? I… I really can’t believe it. I’m not gonna see you again. Ever…? Will you come visit me?”

“That is not possible, I fear. Though I wish more than anything that I could.”

The two of you reach the harbour. Dan Feng sets you down on the wooden planks and takes a seat beside you, dipping his legs into the water.

“Your pants are gonna be soaked, 笨蛋!”

“I am aware of that fact.” He pays you no mind, looking on into the horizon again. You gently hold is hand in yours.

“This… this is it? The last time I’ll see you? And we’re just… staring at nothing in complete silence?”

“You are speaking right now, [name].”

“What did you even do?” He glances at you. But as you make eye contact, he can’t seem to look away.

“…What are you doing?”

“You ask so many questions, 亲亲. I prefer it when you’re asleep. You’re much cuter in bed, too.” Dan Feng lightens up a little, a smile on his face as he teases you. “I’m just…” He shakes his head, as if to get himself out of a daze. “I’m just trying to remember your face. I need to make sure I don’t forget it…” His expression returns to how it was before, desolate and heartbroken.

“Make me a promise, 亲亲.”

“Go on.”

“We will meet in my next lifetime. And… we will live out a future that we could not have in this one.” He holds out his pinky finger and you take it.

“Sounds nice. I’ll hold you to it, Dan Feng.”

ask before translating, taking inspo from (not copy), reposting, etc. my work. remember to credit me and if you’re taking inspo from it, please @ me as I’d like to see what you do with my ideas!

#dan feng #honkai star rail #honkai: star rail #dan feng x reader #yinyue jun #yinyue jun x reader #imbibitor lunae #imbibitor lunae x reader #.forestfics ☆

[kokusfluffyhair]

Douma as Your Boyfriend (18+!)

(art credit: @HakogardenMiko) Request for @rosethornpaw -- I'm sorry it took so long 😔

+ he loves to dance (especially in an outfit like the one in the picture)

+ he will spoil you with gifts, vacations, massages, bubble baths, dinners, whatever he can possibly think of

+ he finds meaning out of spoiling you

+ if you're looking for a skincare partner, he's your guy

+ he will do sheet masks and any kind of self care with you. the problem is that he's very picky about the products he uses, so if the two of you go shopping for new products, expect it to take a looooong time

+ your bathroom is overrun with his hair care products

+ seriously, you can make a functioning small store with the amount of hair products he has alone

+ he wears makeup and wants you to compliment it

+ he likes to smell good and uses body wash and perfumes to make him smell like vanilla and lotus flowers

+ he cries during movies. most of the times it is fake, but it is real when he cries during fights between romantic couples

+ you will have the softest and most luxurious bed living with him. the man's got to get his beauty sleep and he needs soft, plush blankets, silk pillowcases, and stuffed animals to do so

+ his favourite stuffed animal is a light brown rabbit that he named Snuggles

+ when you aren't together, he will always be sending you messages and pictures

+ your phone is basically occupied by Douma

+ he has so many pictures of you on his phone, it looks like he's your stalker

+ he kind of does low-key stalk you. he knows your schedule and will be waiting for you when you're done with school or work

+ he always brings boba tea for you though

+ you two would do well if you started some couple's day in the life type of videos on YouTube or TikTok

+ he loves sweets. I mean loooooveess sweets, especially soft and creamy cakes with strawberry

+ you can be talking to him while he's eating those kinds of cakes and he's not paying attention, until suddenly he looks over at you with that weird creeper face and asks "Hm?" with cream at the corners of his mouth

(yeah, this is the creeper face I was talking about)

+ he likes foot massages, so if you're willing to give him that, he will melt in front of you and be moaning as you do the job

+ he's a power bottom, prefers not to switch

+ if you wear a strap-on and give it to him in the ass, he will be forever thankful

+ just stimulate tf out of his prostate please

+ and squeeze his nipples. he will squeal

+ do not ever tell him that he needs an eyebrow trim or styling

+ he's really sensitive to the sun, so don't tease him about that either (even if he is not a demon, or if demons get some medicine that makes them sun-resistant, Douma has a form of albinism so he is especially sun sensitive)

+ he loves giving hugs

+ he has a list of strange fetishes but most of them include feet and cream

+ he will probably forget your anniversary and birthday. he doesn't mean to, but these things just don't click in his mind

+ he also forgets his own birthday

+ when you throw him a party for his birthday, he gets really excited because he thinks he's just getting a random party. but then you tell him that it's his birthday and he goes "Oh?" and it's like he's learnt something new

+ he'd prefer a polyamorous relationship. but if you're against it, he will stay loyal to you

+ he doesn't want kids. his biggest fear is your relationship degenerating like his parents' did. he thinks having kids will be a catalyst to this happening

+ "Hey, y/n ... I didn't think I could feel love, you know? I tried so hard to feel love and aaahhh I never could. But you know what? I think I love you. You make my chest warm. That's love, isn't it?"

+ you help him find peace with himself

#douma demon slayer #douma #douma as your boyfriend #douma x y/n #douma kny #douma x you

[mercityart]

So, I've been thinking and I wanna do a creepypasta x y/n type thing, if y'all could send requests n stuff that'd be awesome. For now tho, let's start simple.

Tw: these characters are mentally unwell individuals who don't typically have the means for therapy or medication, they aren't meant to be perfect, and just like so many other ppl they can be toxic and exhibit bad behavior such as self harm, possessiveness and so much more.

WHAT TYPE OF LOVER THEY ARE.

Toby- ooooh boy buckle up for this one. Toby is extremely sweet, almost sickeningly so if we are being honest. However, he does have really bad episodes. Toby has many mental issues, some being schizophrenia and bpd(borderline personality disorder), along with bipolar. His mood can switch so quick and violently it's nauseating. He has episodes he has little to no memory of and severely struggles with self harm, eating disorders and much more. He does not mean to hurt himself and/or others. He tries his best to treat you like a prince/princess/royalty/etc. He loves to take you on hikes and anything physically active and outside, always having far too much energy. He's the type of lover who will carry you on his back or shoulders if you are too exhausted or even hurt. Speaking of which, never tell him you are hurt or gods forbid it's the end of the world. He will baby tf outta you. He's the true definition of "golden retriever boyfriend". Although I see him more as a rednecks bullybreed in my opinion. Sweet, smiley, overly energetic, smart but super ditzy but will bite someone if told to, forever loyal. During episodes where he's super down just rub his back and hum to him, don't force him to do stuff and take everything at one miniscule step at a time, instead of thinking "just take a shower then rest before something else" think "ok, turn on the water, see how far you can go and if you are too tired that's ok, I'll help you, if you just don't wanna, that's ok I'm here let's watch or listen to music". Honestly he just needs a lot more love. He will be protective, playful and always willing to help. A good boy.

Tim- Oh dear Thanatos give me strength. This man is such a softy for his lover(s). He has such a gruff exterior and will always display it, however, when it comes to you that'll soften significantly. You are baby. That's that. He will treat you as his equal, always. This is good and bad though as he will forget that you aren't used to the shit he goes through as the unfortunate victim of the Operator. Don't get me wrong, he will eventually realize but it takes his brain a lil bit of calibrating first. For example, he can say something super insensitive then after a few minutes he's all, "aw shit, darlin I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it like that, are you ok? What I meant was-" He tries his damnedest I swear, he's just a mentally ill southern man, he ain't the brightest at times but he tries. Now, he can have a temper but rest assured it's unlikely he'll ever lay a hand on you, some other poor soul? Maybe, but definitely not you. He may slam a door or stomp about but he won't even breathe on you. Sometimes though, after a really rough day he can end up in a screaming match with you, but he'll try and make up for it like crazy. Breakfast in bed, more per names, maybe an "I love you" he seldom gives, hell he may even slow dance with you in the kitchen while you guys make food. This mf do be making dad jokes like crazy, he's toughen up a lot since marble hornets but he's still Tim. He's a goofball at times. And let's not forget whats also not battery powered. Cue the music. He loves sitting out on the porch or the windowsill strumming at his guitar or ukalele while writing lil lyrics, later presenting you with his song once it's finished. Also, he gives the best hugs, we love our strong short chubby king.

Brian- look at this hunk of a man. He is like a mix of Tim and Toby. He's smart, calculating, absolutely charming, but he can also be tough, silly and oh so caring. He will always throw around jokes and give the biggest smug grin afterwards showing his gorgeous smile(the cute Lil tooth gaaap) He loves to pick you up and swing you around with his big strong arms. Actually, he loves showing off for you in general when he can. He's really fit, constantly working out, but it's a bit unhealthy, hence why he's so obviously muscular. He doesn't eat a healthy amount and excercises too much, unlike Tim who is just as strong bit looks less fit. This man is the definition of a highschool Jock except he's actually super fucking smart. Now, be aware he's a psychology major, he can be very quite at times and is able to analyze every move you make. He is extremely protective, at times to the point of possessiveness but sometimes it's as though he couldn't really give af. He is an absolute beast of a man, he will use his extreme height, broadness and muscle mass to his advantage. However he is so soft with you. If y'all fight though he is not going to hesitate to pick you up and put you over his shoulders, put you somewhere soft and quiet and then leave for a few hours to cool down. He isn't prone to violence but be careful, if he snaps he blacks out and even Tim would panic in that scenario. He does do everything he can in his power to prevent this from happening, taking medication, smoking weed, going on a long hike, taking anger out on trees, etc. Tbh him and Tim are like dads.

Jeff- Jeff, oh boy. Now, he is definitely a lil rat bastard, as most short trans men(such as myself) are, but xe's not as bad as you may think. Honestly he likely will treat you like a best friend. It will make some morbid jokes, smoke with you if you want, do some stupid shit like vandalism, he don't give af. Xe is very into alternative fashion and music, if you enjoy doing makeup and all sorts of artsy stuff count him in. He won't hesitate to put you in a headlock btw. He will 100000% throw you around and wrestle with you for shits n giggles. It is also, surprisingly a hopeless romantic. He may act all cool on the outside, or at least try, but xe honestly is all heart eyes at the smallest bs. He is so supportive in his own way, saying stuff like "babe, I promise you, you have the absolutely fffffffffattest ass I have ever seen. You is THICC!" Also, please please please pleeeeease call xem "baby boy", "handsome" or even "bunny", he will absolutely melt, and do this while playing with it's hair while he's sitting down playing on his phone between your legs while yet on the couch? Aaaagbkghklg. This man will do anything you want istg. Also, hope you like dogs bc he's got two. Smile dog(aka smiles) and smiley. I know. So creative right? It didn't want to rename them after finding them so he just stuck with it, but he dies tend to call smiles princess though. Also, will absolutely make you his favorite food growing up that his madre made growing up, empanada.

Liu- ah, big mans. Oooooweeeeee. Liu's side is very reserved and quiet. They will kiss your palms and watch you all puppy like when you talk. He isn't huge on talking as he found with Sully it leads to more arguing. He is a body mods artist so if you want tattoos, pricings, etc. You bet he's doing em. Any price of you he modifies he will kiss oh so sweetly, however, they prefer to reserve kisses for spots you dislike about yourself or past scars to remind you how much he loves and appreciates you. He loves to be big spoon but they prefers you two facing each other equally giving affection so he can see how you melt into him while you also can see just how much he cares about you. Due to their job he does get some big bucks so you better love being absolutely soiled and pampered. Anything you show even the slightest smidge of interest towards is yours now. Also, please do his makeup if you do yours in the morning. Having you sit in their lap doing eyeshadow while he rubs your sides his so therapeutic for him. Extremely gentle giant, his issue is they have a hard time communicating and shuts down when confronted. The best time way to deal with an issue is through notes. He likes to pass notes to one another before speaking and agreeing to a solution fully. They don't usually outwardly show if he's upset, but trust me, you will know. Sully doesn't keep his mouth shut ever.

Sully- Sully is very different from Liu. He's very outgoing and brutally honest, extremely blunt and talkative. He will be extremely wary of you at first, and he has severe, and I mean severe, commitment issues. They'll eventually come around though. They love to show you off, constantly holding you up on a shining pedistle for all to see. He likes to hype you tf up. They also love to dance with you, please dance to some Spanish music with them, it'll make their heart race. He also will give you so so so many kisses if you do anything to honor his heritage as his mother is Latina and he grew up around his Mexican family and even lived in Mexico part of his life growing up. If you sing porque te vas to him he will absolutely smother you with kisses. His favorite food was for sure tamales whilst Liu preferred mole.

Otis- Now, Otis is extremely reserved and can come off as cold when he's not masking. He does card though. She just has a hard time showing it he's not huge on giving physical affection or verbal. He typically shows his love through handmade gifts. He does enjoy cuddling on the couch after a rough day though. They don't hate physical or verbal affection, but growing up he was forced to give affection when he didn't want to and was more often shown "affection" through violence, not to mention she's worried that whatever you are wearing will set off their sensory issues. Otis will 10000% shut down if in a argument, but if anyone threatens him or puts hand on them, she will kick their ass no matter what. Otis is a big boy and exhibits behavior very similar to that of a cat. Her favorite thing to do is to sketch, draw, or paint you when you aren't paying attention. He just loves the way you look and the emotions he feels when observing the work they've created. On a really bad day the best thing for you two to do is take a bath bubble bath together surrounded by yummy smelling candles, ambient lighting, and of course having your skin touch hers. She loves the way your skin feels but hates clothes, if he had it her way he'd never wear clothes but sadly society says otherwise. Their thought process is(as is mine) nothing is innapropriate unless someone makes it innapropriate.

Jack (E.J.)- This man is very cold. He doesn't comprehend emotions as much as he used to before the incident. He loves observing you and trying to determine what emotions he is feeling in that moment. He is extremely blunt and anilitical, always saying whatever he is thinking to say. He struggles with having mercy on your emotions. He does apologize and feel guilty when he finds out it made you feel negatively and is always willing to learn and work things out. He wants you to feel safe, comfortable and loved with him. He believes he is a hard person to love due to his situation, believing he is a hideous monster. He severely lacks confidence and it takes a long time for him to even give you a peak at his skin, nevermind not wear his mask around you. He believes you are the most gorgeous person in exhistence and wholeheartedly believes it. He struggles a lot with his hair and it's very damaged. Jack, prior to the incident was a black man and as such his hair was extremely thick and had a super tight curl pattern. Now he typically keeps it straight, please teach him how to take care of his hair, he loves his natural hair but no one taught him how to take care of it as he was adopted by a racist white family growing up as a teen. give him some locks, cornrows, extensions, box braids, hell, teach him how to keep his hair in a natural state while styling. He loves you touching him and you doing his hair not only boosts his confidence but also is extremely therapeutic for him and he views it as romantic and affectionate. He loves to take care of you and you taking care of him makes his heart swell with love. This man is extremely loving, he won't be too clingy or overbearing, he respects your boundaries. He's simply content with the fact you don't hate or fear him. He does like to sneak up on you though. The little noises that come out of your mouth when you notice his large frame towering over you suddenly is both adorable and hilarious. You are his little rabbit, his mate, his lover, what more can I say?

For more scenarios and characters pls simply comment or send me it privetly as an ask or message.

#mercityart #slenderverse #creepypasta #slenderverse headcanons #Slenderverse x y/n #slenderman #Slenderverse x reader #Creepypasta x t/n #Creepypasta x reader #Ticci Toby #Ticci Toby x reader #Ticci Toby x y/n #Tim Wright #Tim Wright x reader #Tim x reader #masky #Masky x reader #masky x y/n #Tim Wright x y/n #marblehornets #Marble hornets x reader #Marble hornets x y/n #Jeff the killer #Jeff the killer x reader #Jeff the killer x y/n #Creepypasta headcanons #ticci toby headcanons #Jeff the killer headcanons #Tim Wright headcanons #Masky headcanons

[pricescigar]

Bad Ass Y/N HC's

Requested by: @emtynessinmyworld

Description: Can you maybe do headcanon about TF-141 and König with really terrifying and badass Y/n?

Y/n is beyond dedicated and emotionless towards gruesome methods of defeating enemies. ALWAYS prefers to work alone and almost never speaks to the point that some people think they are mute.

(NO SPECIFED GENDER, FOR EVERYONE TO ENJOY)

CW: Methods and description of torture, blood and gore

Task Force 141 ;

Captain Jonathan Price 🚬

Of course the Captain had read your file before you joined his Task Force, yet he already heard many things about you.

Price understands that if people prefer to work alone, he does too but even then... A lone wolf always needs it's pack to fight sometimes.

"Not much of a speaker? That's fine." He didn't care if they spoke or not, as long the job always got done. The Captain was happy, but at first he did think you was mute.

And talk about doing the job correctly... Price most of the time is caught of guard a little more or less.

He finds your way of interrogations and killing enemies interesting, call him old fashioned if you want but he only makes a mess when necessary.

And when the Captain made mess, it was a dirty job indeed.

Price could recall how you'd interrogate your enemies; Electrocution, dumping them in ice cold water, tearing their nails off...

He admires your dedication to your service in the army, your head always in the game.

Although your actions and gruesome antics may be questionable to the Captain, he welcomes you to the team with open arms.

Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley 💀

Finally, someone who he can relate to. Long before he joined Task Force, he too was a lone wolf. And still is.

If only there was a way you two could speak telepathically, Ghost rarely speaks. You hear the same old orders from him, no small talk.

Sometimes he'd think to himself if you're following orders or not, but seeing you how you deal with your enemies he didn't need to worry so much.

"Good job Sergeant." He doesn't seem to react too much how you deal with your enemies, he'd just watch like he always does.

Hell, one time he casually gave you some advice and more weak points in the human body.

Ghost had never seen someone so dedicated as you, but putting two and two together. You're a good edition to the team.

Of course he's heard of you, how your name echoed many Task Force's and all across different Barracks, you're no stranger to him.

He remembers his coworkers telling him how you broke your arch Nemesis fingers off, tearing out his wisdom teeth and left him tied up all bloodied.

Overall, you two became good friends. You may not talk much to each other, but both of your presence with each other is enough.

Sargeant Johnny "Soap MacTavish 🧼

"Steamin' bloody Jesus..." Was the first thing that came out of his mouth watching you in the Battlefield.

Now, the young Sargeant was cautious of you at first. But after going on more missions with you, he eventually got used to your antics.

Although he may have been known to sweep houses quickly in his early ears of joining. But he'd never met someone like you before.

Seeing you work reminded him another story that you shoved your knife through the enemies had and kicked his face in. It definitely sent chills down his spine.

Soap is a sociable person, he loves knowing new people he'd just met. Seeing you wasn't so talkative, he was respectful of that.

But he appreciated you listening onto his conversations, overall him rambling. And a simple nod in agreement, or shaking your head was enough for him.

Soap saw how dedicated you was, and that too made him determined to be the best of the best.

He even promised that to Ghost while in Las Almas, and as a man of his word. He stuck to it.

Soap would see you as a colleague and a good friend of his, even if you're not talkative. He appreciates your efforts and dedication.

Sargeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick 🧢

"Bloody hell... You did a number on that guy didn't you?" Gaz would say as he watched you beat the enemy to death.

Gaz had seen many things since he joined by Price's side in 2019 after Picadilly circus, but that was only just the beginning for him...

He's been on a few missions with you so far and finds your ways of killing enemies surprising. But he quietly learns a thing or two, while watching you.

That one mission you went on with him, you broke the guys kneecaps and broke his teeth in, since he failed to give the information.

He met you when Price introduced you to all the others, Gaz being Gaz he shook your hand firmly, welcoming you to the team.

So far he appreciates your service and efforts, he was still young and Gaz had many years of experience to go. Some form of learning curve for him.

Gaz likes small talk sometimes ehile on missions, noticing that you didn't reply. He didn't mind so much. But he does crack a joke now and then for you.

Either way, Gaz sees you as his mate. He pretty much sees anyone as his mate in the Barracks.

KortTac Faction;

König

Now, König was a man of few words himself. So to finally work with someone who didn't talk so much eased his nerves.

He suffers badly with Social anxiety, he tried working on his nerves. But he found it too overwhelming.

At first he did believe you was mute at first, but he didn't mind that do much. As long König didn't have to speak.

Hearing your name for the first time, he simply nodded. He heard of you, many things squally.

Taking down so many men in one night, by yourself waiting for exfil to collect you. And how you killed them, in such detail. König was very pleased.

"I like you..." König would mutter under his breath observing you closely as both of you trained together.

It was rare that König would actually like someone, but you? You're special to him. Maybe because both of you have the same methods in harming your enemies.

You're a great addition to KorTac and König speaks highly of you, and deeply appreciates your efforts.

#call of duty #cod #cod mwii #call of duty mwii #mwii #cod modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #könig cod #könig #brooke's requested writings

[cwritesforfun]

Sarah Cameron x Fem!Reader: In Love

Sarah Cameron is in love with you... Yes, this ends in a fluffy happy way:-) Y/N = Your Name ** I do not own the Outer Banks characters.

Masterlist

Y/N's POV

Sarah has been angry at me all day. I turn to her and ask “Ok Sarah, what did I do wrong?” She quickly says “Nothing. You’re wonderful. Why would you think you did something wrong?” Kie says “You’ve been giving her the cold shoulder all day, Sarah.” Sarah replies “No I have not. I just have been talking to other people.” I ask “What’s bothering you? You obviously have something on your mind. Kie was right. You have been ignoring me all day.” Sarah answers “I just … do you like Jake?” I answer “No why tf would I like Jake? I have taste, Sarah.” She replies “I mean yeah... but you two seemed flirty. You looked at him like he was your dream boy earlier today.” I reply “We never flirted. I don't know what you're talking about!" She replies "I saw you making heart eyes at him and you just were smiling at him like you know you'll get attention from how gorgeous you are.." I reply "First off, thank you. You're gorgeous too. And two, he did tell me about his crush and it was sweet. He has this whole plan to ask her out. We talked about school too. I don't think I ever made heart eyes though." She sighs and replies "Yeah maybe not."

I hear Kie exclaim "We're at your place, Y/N." I say bye and I get out of the car.

Sarah's POV

I sigh and exclaim "I really screwed that up, didn't I?" Kie answers "I mean yeah you sort of did." I playfully slap her and then climb into the passenger seat.

Kie starts driving me home and I ask "What should I do? And why am I so jealous of Jake hanging out with Y/N? I wasn't always jealous of her hanging out with other people, but a guy? That is bothering me." She asks "Do you want my honest opinion even if you don't like it?" I answer "Yes. Anything is better than the thoughts I have right now." She replies "You, my friend, are in love with Y/N. I mean think about how you stare at her and how jealous you are that she is making heart eyes at someone else. She doesn't even see it as flirting with these people. But you see that because you want her to be yours." I reply "I can't be. She's a girl. I'm a girl. It's wrong." She replies "Is it though? Everyone loves who they want to love." I ask "Would you still be my friend if I am in love with Y/N?" She answers "Of course. I'll support you no matter who you love." I ask "How do I tell her? How do I know if I do love her and this is not just an internal struggle with myself?" She answers "You'll have to figure that out on your own."

A few days pass... Y/N's POV

I'm sitting on the beach reading right now. I finally have a day off work this week and I need to relax all day. I tried to see if Kie or Sarah was free, but Kie is working and I left Sarah a voicemail. She has still been weird since a few days ago when she got angry with me talking to Jake. I wonder if she was jealous?

I hear "Hey Y/N!" I look up and see Sarah standing there with a sundress looking beautiful. I smile and exclaim "Hey Sarah. Does this mean you got my voicemail?" She answers "Yes I did. Sorry for not answering you. I had a busy last couple of days." I reply "I'm glad you could make it." She smiles and sits on her towel next to mine.

After a while of reading on the beach, I ask "Do you want to get snow cones and walk on the pier?" Sarah answers "Yes, that sounds great."

We walk, get snow cones, then make it to the pier. Sarah says "Wow, so many people on dates out here! Dates seem crazy, right? Like who does that?" I answer "I'm sure when you find the right person you'll take them to the pier and it will top this moment." She replies "I don't think anything will top this actually." I smile at her and she smiles. at me.

We make it to the end of the pier and I lean my arms on the railing. Sarah leans next to me and says "So... I want to apologize." I ask "For what?" She answers "A few days ago, I was ignoring you and treating you horribly. I shouldn't have done that. The truth is... the truth is that I was jealous of you getting close to Jake. The only thought that I had as he flirted with you was that it should be me, not him. Before this, I was in denial of my love for you, but not anymore. I won't be ashamed of how I feel. I love you Y/N and I think a part of me always has." I smile and say "So, are you Sarah Cameron asking me on a date?" She answers "I ... uh... only if you want to. Yes, I am." I reply "I would love to on a date with you, Sarah." She smiles widely and I say "I also love you too." She squeals and says "Omg I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me." I smile and say "I love you so much. You're so cute."

#sarah cameron x female reader #sarah cameron x you #sarah cameron x reader #outer banks sarah #sarah outer banks #sarah cameron #outer banks tv show #outer banks series #outer banks imagines #wlw love #wlw imagine #wlw post

[yanderecrazysie]

Acrophobia

No one asked for this, so I delivered! A new “series” of short one-shots based on phobias!

Please don’t request any of these, I just want to have this as a “come on writer’s block go tf away” series.

Pairing: Takami Keigo (Hawks) x Reader

Warnings: Yandere themes

Acrophobia: The fear of heights

You admired Hawks. And, really, who didn’t?

He was handsome, cool, down-to-Earth, and just… not like any other superhero you’d ever seen. He was the number one hero in your book.

It was common to see him strolling through the city signing autographs, taking selfies with fans, and just conversing casually as if every squealing fangirl and fanboy was a friend of his.

You admired him greatly.

But that was all.

You didn’t think of him often, except when you saw him on the street, the news, or in the shops on some poster or plushie (once even a body pillow). But you never bought any of the items or watched the news looking for him specifically.

You weren’t a diehard fan that sought him out like a teenage girl does for her favorite boyband.

You never asked for an autograph or picture with him.

And that was the reason he’d approached you. Maybe the reason you’d caught his golden bird-of-prey eyes.

“Hey!”

You heard the fluttering of giant wings above you- a sound you’d heard many times before. Sure enough, Hawks landed gracefully in front of you, close-eyed smile spreading across his face.

“I’ve seen you around, but I’ve never gotten the chance to say ‘hi’,” he said. You couldn’t blame him, considering he was surrounded by adoring crowds whenever he landed.

“Oh!” You smiled somewhat shyly, surprised that such a famous hero had recognized you, “Um, well, hi!”

Well, that was awkward.

If Hawks shared your sentiment, he didn’t show it, grinning eagerly and asking for your name. You hesitantly give it, wondering why you even had a second thought about it.

Even if he was a hero, he was a man confronting you in the middle of a barely-lit, empty street at night.

“(Y/n), that’s a beautiful name,” he said, and you blushed at the compliment. His grin widened and you felt the sudden urge to take a step back.

He looked every bit the part of a predator.

“You shouldn’t be out wandering the streets at night, you know. I just stopped a villain a few minutes ago, and I’m sure he wasn’t the only one out here.”

You averted your eyes from his intense gaze, nodding with a little shame, “My job goes until closing, and I need the hours.”

“I understand, but still, I’d never forgive myself if I left and something happened to you,” Hawks was suddenly serious, a frown on his usually carefree face. Suddenly, the smile returned, a little mischief and something darker flickering in those golden eyes of his.

He suggested something that made your skin crawl. “How about I fly you home?”

“No! No, that’s alright!”

“Really, I insist.”

You bit your lip, unsure of how to explain how you felt to the pro hero. How could you tell him that he scared you without hurting his feelings?

Without sounding completely crazy?

“Um, really, I’m fine. You should be protecting the city, not helping one random girl get home. I’ve always made it. This neighborhood is pretty safe and I’m almost there.”

“I insist.” His voice was harder this time and you swallowed dryly.

Who were you to deny a hero of his own job?

Without waiting for another excuse, he wrapped his muscular arms around you and beat his wings until he was rocketing upwards. In surprise and struck with the sudden fear of plummeting to the ground below, you wrapped your arms around him as well.

It took you a minute to realize you weren’t going in the direction of your house.

“Um, Hawks, you’re going the wrong way,” you laughed uncomfortably, trying to sound lighthearted through your shaking voice.

“I know.”

Your heart just about stopped beating.

“What? What do you mean?”

Hawks smiled down at you, a gentle look in his eyes. It only terrified you further.

“Did you know most hawks mate for life?”

You shook your head, but whether it was a ‘no’ to the knowledge or a silent plea for him to put you down, you’d never know.

“Let’s go home, (Y/n).”

You were still going in the wrong direction.

#yandere #yandere hawks #yandere my hero academia #my hero academia #takami keigo #keigo takami

[botsnelves]

TF Histories: Cybertron, it's origins, and cybertronian anatomy.

The origin of the mechanical planet Cybertron have been heavily debated, well debated is a generous term. In fact, no one can pinpoint what Cybertron is exactly, where it came from, or how it formed. Many a cybertronian is ready to go on a long monologue about a figure called "Primus" a supposed god of Cybertron. It's strange, however, as no one can exactly decide whether or not he is real. Many cybertronians speak of him both as a mythological figure and a fact of life, so scholars are left confused…

So what actually happened? Well it turns out that the story most cybertronians tell is true! So what story do they tell? You may find it quite unbelievable. In the book "The Covenant of Primus" the author, Alpha Trion, writes: "The story of Cybertron acts in the deepest space, in the beginning of the age in a time unheard. In the vast emptiness of the galaxy were two beings, of the light and the dark. Basking in the light of the empty galaxy is the god Primus, and bathing within the cold darkness was the darkness embody Unicron. The two brothers of life fought with a primal sense, and their swords created stars. For millennia they fought, each giving in their valour, and Primus knew it could not continue. Unicron in his lust for power, questing to usurp, was blind to the conflict end. In the deepest of space, Primus used his power of creation to bring together asteroids to seal them both. Primus was wise and managed to format his asteroid into a planet, of his own creation. He used his powers of creation to form a metal to create a planet, named Cybertron. The evil Unicron, in his greed, created a form that would suit his evil purposes. A planet that consumed… Though he would lie dormant for the foreseeable time…"

The writing of The Covenant of Primus is quite obviously archaic in some way, written eons ago in ancient cybertronian and only now being translated into human languages. Considering how old the book is, and the language it was in, the translators (Two cybertronian Autobots) did a fantastic job! You may be asking, how does this prove Primus real? Well, we now must look at the core of Cybertron "Vector Sigma" Which could be classed as the brain of Primus, or avatar of Primus. The specifics on what Vector Sigma actually is, is rather contentious amongst cybertronians. The reason why Vector Sigma is evidence for Primus lies solely in the databanks of two groups, belonging to the Autobots and Decpticons respectively. The Aerialbots and the Stunticons, both groups were constructed in 1984 on Earth by the current faction leaders: Optimus Prime, and Megatron. The Aerialbots and Stunticons were brought to life by Vector Sigma, the author of The Covenant of Primus, Alpha Trion, had to sacrifice himself to activate Vector.

Each Aerialbot has a clear memory of Vector Sigma in their memory banks, which was observed by Anunias Alinas from the Alpha-9 Cluster. She was able to view the Aerialbots memory banks, with permission and supervision from Autobot medic First Aid. The event was recorded by Anunias in 2006, as the Autobots battled Decepticons in Alpha-9. If we take a cybertronians word for it, that Vector Sigma is a part of Primus: Then it becomes clear that Primus is a real being. The existence of Primus thus lends credence to an observed phenomenon on Cybertron, hot spots. Hot spots are observed all over Cybertron, as areas where new Cybertronians are "forged." The general idea of hot spot is that waves of energy are released by Vector Sigma occasionally, which 'lights up' these hot spots: Causing new cybertronians to be formed. These hot spots, most of the time, are solid metal and become more malleable and sometimes even liquid-y when Vector Sigma releases energy. Due to the random nature of hot spots, these areas are generally closed off and are guarded. Hot spots aren't the only way a new cybertronian can be created, constructed cold is another way a cybertronian can be "born." The process involves, well... Building a new one! As cybertronians are metal, they can be easily constructed. A team, sometimes just one person, will build a full body complete with paint, optic lenses, brain module, etc. A spark, which is like a heart for a cybertronian, is then inserted into a part of the body (Usually the middle, which is hollowed out to house the spark). The benefits of constructed cold are mainly: quick production of cybertronians (workers or soldier, the latter being the case during the Great War), and allowing a spark to be placed somewhere other than the "middle" of the torso, which is where a spark is placed during a forging (hot spot creation). However, a lot of constructed cold are looked down upon. The process itself if seen as immoral by most, as the process is used to create new cybertronians for mass production (War or work, as mentioned previously). Some notable constructed cold would by Skywarp, Thundercracker, and Bluestreak. When a forged model emerges from a hot spot, it's metal is still somewhat malleable. They're a shiny silver, not painted or given a "coloured metal" of sorts. They're also noticeably smaller than an average cybertronian. This is called the Protoform Stage. It lasts a 3-4 years, as the body of the cybertronian slowly undergoes changes and becomes a fully fledged cybertronian. At the end of the Protoform Stage, a cybertronian has full access to their Transformation Cog (T-Cog) which is explained later on.

Below is an diagram of cybertronian anatomy:

The diagram obviously is not representative of every cybertronian, the aforementioned constructed cold can have a spark anywhere, and ignoring arms, legs, head, and other things that would be obvious, or shared with humans. The diagram was made in 1984 by Autobot allied human, Chip Chase. The diagram you see now is a common reproduction, used in classrooms studying alien life (In the year 2006). Obviously, cybertronians have very diverse body types. This is usually because of the alternate mode. An alternate mode is the form a cybertronian can take at any time, which a cybertronian has implemented in them from day one. It may sound unbelievable that Primus gave cybertronians the ability to transform into vehicles, alien or not, and it is. The story of a cybertronians ability to transform is one for another day, though their is a diagram for a Transformation Cog (T-Cog) below, taken from the Autobot "Huffer" from a top-down view:

The process of transformation raises two questions: Is a cybertronian stuck with their alternate mode forever? And: what happens to both the vehicle and robot parts in both modes? To answer the first question: No, a cybertronian may be given an alt mode at birth but they aren't stuck with it. After the Protoform Stage, the brain module is able to contact the optical sensors to shoot a beam out of the lenses. This beam contains digital code, which scans a vehicle suitable for an alt mode (Mainly something that is mechanical and does not resemble the cybertronian form, so humans are a no go). This beam transports the data of the scanned potential alt mode to the brain module, providing a fully 3D model of the vehicle which includes even the smallest details (Aside from metal, a cybertronian being able to shift and change the atomic properties of their metal wouldn't come until long after the age of Autobots and Decepticons). There was a cybertronian policy which prevented a fresh cybertronian, out of the Protoform Stage, from scanning a new mode. Though, that part of history is beyond the scope of this document.

The second question is more complex, and depends on the alt mode chosen. Let's look at innards of a car, a Volkswagen beetle. We're looking at Bumblebee. Hi seats, steering wheel, pedals, and all else are able to be kept mostly in tact. His back seats split apart and create an opening to allow the chamber which contains his spark to be put into place, thme front seats fold up and are slid under the dashboard, the steering wheel and pedals retract into the floor to make room for the seats, then the torso thins out and collapses slightly, as the arms push themselves out from the side of the vehicle. No need to ask about the engine and such, cybertronians don't have them, their scanning module removes parts that already have their functions fulfilled by other aspects of cybertronian anatomy (Such as engines). When it comes to their head, it is stored wherever there is space. Sometimes, the head even collapses and folds away! Bumblebee's head does something similar to that: He has two small horns on his head which retract in, and his head folds into a rectangle shape. It's quite funny actually, when you're able to see Bumblebee's head become a thing cuboid for a split second.

Like this! Artists rendition of course, humourlessly drawn by Chip Chase. In fact, when it comes to cybertronian anatomy, you can thank Chip Chase for the majority of it. So that should be all for this edition of Transformers Histories, if I've missed anything, or have any questions: Feel free to mention, or ask away.

If you've made it this far: Thank you for reading!

#Transformers #transformers histories #yes the diagrams are drawn in Paint

[ms0milk]

ehem

A HYM TO BLACK WATER NWKDJDNFKWKFNEODKFNOWJDNFKEODNROWKFNWPFNEOKDNFJEKRKEOFO LORD HAVE MERCU ON MY SOUL, THE NEW CHAPTER?!?!?!?!?!??!??

I AM FLOORED, I HAVE NO WORDS TO DESCRIBE HOW MWAH IT WAS

i was gonna give you my thoughts over a reblog, but, it 2as gonna be too long, so

ehem

idk if its just mez but wuen y/n does smthn psychotic, like when she bit the magic mans arm and th3re was blood and then he let go of her and she wae grinning widly, i got gidey lioe i was crazy smiling, its just OMLL and then her thoughts of her going to pretect her prince, and she wouldnt be able to do anything her precious queen woudnt like amd how she just staright up went for it

AND AND OMFG WHEN she got back up af5er litterally bwing birnt like a mtherfucking chciken nugget to protect her primce and then he took her and hid her when deku came to the rescue, and abt that, im not sure why but i find it endearing that she doesnt call deku by his name but champion, but anyways, she literally LITTERALLY put jer own shoulder back in its place THAT GIRLIE IW SOME SERIOUS BUSINESS and tuen even afyer that she could say smthm snarky to him amd the way je reacted afywr she told him intold you so i was 🤏 close to audibly moaing oml

and then even afyer he lef before whe couod snatch him so that he could be safe she g9t up even in that stae, foumd her sword and aimed straight at him wven if she could barleu walk

And whwn you wrote about how she was made to kill and murder as her prince's bodygaurd and how she was trained for this and thr gory bloody details and how the peopl3 she knew werw not meant for that job and she needed ro fucking finish it thwt was so I LIVE A STRONG Y/N AND IDK EVEN IF SHE IS TALKING ABT MURDER ITS LIKE how do i explain this, IDK I HOPE 6OU UNDERSTAND ITS JUST SO EXCITINGG!!!

and then she chwrged right at him whil3 he was busy and fucking shoved her blade so far into him and as she pulled out a dagger to slit his throat the queen was coming and then th3 little ending where they both fell of the cliff AHHENDIWMDJEIRJWIKXODJ2IDJIDJF3INRIW9OEJFJ3

GOOD LORD AND THEN AF6ER THAT WHEN IZUKU AND BWKUGO CAUGHT HER AND MY BABY WAS TILL ABOE TO TALK? AND WAS SEARCHING FOR HER PRINCE? JENEJEJWHEBEHEJEJEJJEK2ODK3IDK3IKDIEIDKR3K

AND WHEN YOU WRITE YOUR FUCKING DRTIALS ARE JUST MWAH MWAH ABSOLUTLY PERFECT AND EXPLAIN SO MUCH AND I CAN LITTERAPPY SEE THE WHOLE SCENE AND EVERY5HING ITS ABSOKUTLY GEORGOES 💫💫💫💫💫

ehe anyway, i would like to thank you and your hardwork and that i chang3d my username to pyromaniacslove, just putting this here so i can get a cute little ding when you update ❤️

stay safe and hydrayed love MWAH 😘

took me a while to answer bc your excitement made me giddy 🤭 i LOVE this play by play, thank you so much for your thoughts!! comments are seriously the reason I can keep writing. i'm eating them like breakfast i swear

I too love psychotic reader bc up until this point in the story, violence is the only time she really has any agency, plus i never see any capably violent fem readers :,) and I really like how it's slowly becoming more and more clear, the layers of both "shes so cool and good at her unconventional job!" and "why tf would they teach a child to do that..?" it's going to make for a real fun bkg/yn dynamic soon i promise

she's a really precious character to me, and one i can explore all the responsibility that I (and i'm sure SO many of you) experienced too young.

By the end I did lose a bit of motivation, so the language gets slightly unclear but i'm glad that you were still able to follow! and thank you for letting me know abt the username change, i'll update my taglist <3

#pom.postage #and i'm just gonna call dabi the magic man from now on bc LMAO

[josiebelladonna]

nsfw alphabet (alex skolnick)

i keep seeing these over on ao3 in the metallica tag so i decided to give it a try myself. imo, these are more headcanon-y type posts than straight fics hence why i’m posting here.

this applies to alex as a whole, from his early days as a scrappy little jewish boy with elder parents to the badass guitarist he is now. might sound contradictory given from what i saw with fever, in how it’s exceptionally difficult to fit a man’s life (or how he feels) in a single sentence. and yet i made it work out throughout this whole thing here.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

this old boy loves to cuddle. you wouldn’t think of him as the cuddly type given how stone-faced he is, but he most definitely is. he’ll put his arms around you and hold you close to his chest: he’ll also bring his nose down to the crown of your head to better absorb your scent. it’s almost as if he’s protecting you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

alex’s favorite part of his body is undoubtedly his hands. those long, lanky, spidery fingers that creep and crawl about, and when he moves quickly about the guitar neck, he moves quickly on you. think: sitting at the dinner table or watching tv on the couch and he sets a hand on your knee faster than you can read this sentence. or giving you a quick fingering when you’re out in public.

his favorite part of your body is your legs (he is definitely a leg man). nice, shapely legs accentuated by skinny jeans so he can’t take his eyes off of you. cross your legs in front of him and he’ll trip on his words. if he’s eating you out, he’ll kiss the inside of your thighs until you’re ready to come—don’t know how he does it, but he’ll make you come quickly all by manner of caress on his legs. he likes “imperfections”, too, like stretch marks or freckles. he’s got that gray streak, those deep eyes, that large nose, and that protruding belly now (before then, he was skinny and slim and his tummy was as flat as an ironing board); surely, you’ve got something that makes you feel old, foreboding, ugly, and fat (or too thin), too.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

alex is a “low and slow” kind of guy so he doesn’t cum very easily, and when he finally does, uh... he does (it’s not like… randy marsh peter north levels, but it’s nothing to sneeze at, though). he’s more career focused than anything so you’re not going to get any creampies from him but when he cums, he’s just dying to know what he tastes like to you. expect a lot of oral with him, too - more on that below.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

this poor man gets far too many questions about the gray streak in his hair, namely “is it real” (it is, move tf on). that being said, he genuinely loves it when you run your fingers through that fine little sliver of silver. tell him to hold still so you can fix it for him, and he’ll do it. it’s both his trademark and his greatest source of angst. he also loves it when you compliment him, like genuinely compliment him: calling him handsome is guaranteed to make him melt into a puddle. he won’t show it right away, but once he shows it, you know you did something.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

had a couple of relationships along the way, and none of them ended too well. he’s no angel, for sure (he’ll admit to it: having tried booze, cigarettes, and lsd when he was still 18/19 and whatnot) but he’s oddly reserved for a lead guitarist, though. you’re not going to find any supermodels or anything like that: he’s quite literally the antithesis of what you expect from a lead guitarist.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

like i said, he’s a hand and tongue kind of guy, but when it comes to the act? good ol fashioned missionary. call him an old bat but hear me out: he’s over your body but you can see him climaxing right before your eyes. he lets you top from the bottom and call him a good boy. he also strikes me as a doggy style kind of guy, too, having that sense of control himself (he’s a libra boy, they like balance).

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

oh, he’s definitely goofy. those deep, ocean blue eyes will seduce you with a singular glimpse but make a dick joke and he’ll let out a big belly laugh. if he’s a bit tipsy, it’s even better (he is so cute when he’s tipsy; drunk alex is too adorable for words). that being said, when he’s in the mood, it is palpable, like you feel it in your soul. that big voice of his softens to the silkiest, huskiest tone ever, that diamond-shaped face softens like that of a puppy, and he’ll give himself to you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

HO-LY SHIT, that man is groomed. he just looks like he smells good all over. the carpets do match the drapes.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

being the engine that he is, it’s all contingent on his feelings. as a young buck out on the road with testament, he’ll start to miss you and want to be close. as a slightly older but still young buck riding the dark specter over the entire 90s and the 2000s that is no one having a clue what the genres of the decade are, he’ll really start to yearn for your soft touch and your company. as an older guy, if he’s doing the thing where he’ll play a show with the trio, a show with someone like jane getter, skyping a guitar lesson to a bunch of kids, and then embark a six-week tour with testament all within four days of each other, his energy will probably be sapped and he’ll just want to sleep and read on his one day off, but he is open to a little “wake up”, though, if you know what i mean. he’s so laid back and content with everything being overwhelming that seeing him genuinely stressed out is actually a rare occurrence, and when it happens, man, do you feel it. and even then, you ask him “what’s wrong? is everything okay?” and he’ll talk for hours, ESPECIALLY if he’s had a glass of wine.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

hooo boy. he’s a gentleman… but every gentleman enjoys a good dirty joke. and behind every good dirty joke is a feeling of curiosity and desire wrapped in insecurity about two layers deep. when he’s laying in bed before he gets up, he’ll touch a little bit. he touches himself… often, even as he so often crosses his legs as he’s lounging on the couch with his guitar (or gizmo) on his lap. it’s never full masturbation (unless you give him a reason to, like dirty talk) but there’s a reason he’s got big dick energy, though.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

*low whistle*

hand and finger kink. “through his stomach”/belly kink. food kink (and how). “baby boy” kink (call him “baby” or some variation). praise kink. spanking. hickeys (yes, even outside of his youth). role play, him playing the role of the huge nerd or the sexy professor. hair kink. threesomes. teasing. switching. a little bit of pain play, like fingernails or teeth. LEATHER.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

the bed, of course. the couch, too: maybe the floor or outside if you’re in pinch. maybe. you really got to be desperate to do it on the floor in his eyes. i figured this one just yesterday: THE BEACH!

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

compliment his body, for one thing—or just compliment him in some way. he’s got a pretty good bullshit detector, too, so it better be from the heart.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

creampies or anything messy. as naughty and kinky as he is, please please please please please be clean. wash your hands, take a shower or a bath—hell, he might join you in the bath 😉 he’s also not a “breeder” kind of guy, either.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

oral is like, his bread and butter. he’ll want to know what you taste like and his tongue is longer than you might think, too—why do you think he’s so skilled at speaking off the cuff? 🤪 he likes it when blowies include looking straight into his eyes or hands running down his chest and his belly because it’s so pleasurable and intimate for him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

alexander nathan skolnick… is one of the most sensual human beings ever. it’s funny, too, because you just don’t think of him as that from that stern, stoic resting face and those sharp eyebrows. but he is all touch, though. he is all touch and feel and softness. he is so sweet, and tender, and surprisingly gentle even with those toned thighs and stout arms of his—all the love is in his belly, his chest, and his gray streak. you make him feel gorgeous and sexy, and he’ll return the favor to you. he is surprisingly vulnerable, too, like when you find a way into him that’s true to you, he’ll be professing his love before you know it. he won’t be afraid to show you those “little boy moments”, either, where he’ll act in a way that makes you literally forget how old he is for about a minute or so.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

alex isn’t crazy about quickies because they’re… well, quick (even as a 16-year-old boy, he wasn’t crazy about them). but if you want one, he’ll be more than happy to oblige.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

…should go without saying.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

as a young buck: he was nothing but endless stamina. black curls fluttering every which way. that exposed chest in your face the whole time. as an older buck: don’t let that chubby buddha belly shamelessly hanging over his belt fool you. if he can run 3 miles at 5 o’clock in the morning through central park, he can still unquestionably go for a couple of rounds. he’s probably read up on tantric or something, too, when no one’s looking, just… knowing how sensual and touchy-feely he is. if anything, his well-fed pot just adds to it.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he’s got none himself (duh), but if you do, he’ll be happy to experiment. knowing how he is with hands, he’s more a bare-handed kind of guy to get you or himself moving.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he is the teasest tease that ever teased tease a tease. it ranges from coming up behind you and licking those rainier cherry lips right next to your ear to finding a way to watch you undress (standing in the next room and holding a mirror in front of his face as he’s brushing his hair but he’s also watching you across the hall) to tracing those fingers on the curvature of your hip or your thigh from under the table.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

you know, for a boy with a big voice, he’s awful quiet. when he’s aroused, his voice gets so soft and whispery that he nearly breathes the words. his groans are delicate and soft, and he whimpers a lot, too.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon)

referring to how quiet he is, he loves to watch you in complete silence. if he’s into you, he will watch you from the shadows. he’ll be all eyes on you and no one else. he’ll never tell you that he is really in love with you unless you’re alone with him—and you sometimes wonder if he loves you at all, because rather than be big and boisterous about it like all too many a man in love tends to do, he would rather it sit in silence until he’s ready to emerge from the cool rock, like the scorpion out in the desert. he’ll sing during the act, too. yeah, he says these excuses about how he’s not much of a singer, but he’ll sing for you, though. he’ll sing anything, but his favorite thing to sing during is pretty much anything from the stones: the beatles are pure and childlike, where the stones are the bad boys.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

he’s of good size, about 5/6 inches. slender, too, so when he penetrates, he slides right in. he wakes up erect quite a bit, much to (both of) your surprise. he’ll be spooning you and you wake up to feel something firm and full up against your ass. he likes the other way, too, like you put your arms around his waist and then feel him below the equator. voilà, free handjob before his cup of coffee!

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

it’s weirdly high, especially once you give yourself to him. alex is stoic, but if you find a way to cut him up, he will not leave you alone. he’ll want to be around you all the time. he’s sad when you’re not around or you can’t make it. he’ll do anything for you—he’ll even keep you a secret, just so the spotlight stays away from you because a real girl and fame don’t mix.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he will stay up all night with you. if you’re hungry or you want to watch tv, he’ll join you (new york is a big city with a vast nightlife: it’ll be one in the morning and if you want to get ice cream, he’ll put on some pants real quick and come with you just so you aren’t roaming the streets by yourself). but if you’re tired, had a long day, and that little rendezvous was more than satisfying, he loves a sweet little kiss on the neck and a whispering of “good night, baby”, like it’s sweet dreams for him.

#alex skolnick #testament #testament band #headcanon #nsft alphabet #alphabet series #text #fever in fever out #dead man walking #eerie inhabitants #like blood from a stone #fanfic #fic #head canon #smut

[missymurder]

i wanna make out with yr fem noiz her hairs so cute. so flippy :) also would love to hear more abt your dmmd oc i feel like i never hear abt dmmd ocs im scared to talk abt mine

HIII sorry im replying so late!!!! I'm so happy u like my fem noiz she is The gamer girl i luv her

as for my dmmd oc..............i have so many things i want to say about her but i don't want to clog ppl's screens so im gonna stick em under a cut and pray tumblr doesnt do that thing where it just shows the whole thing anyway

(be warned it is a very, very, VERY chunky read more cause i'm just gonna ramble off how much of her story I have figured out at this point)

(TL;DR: nevaeh is born on a plane, -1 leg but +1 brain injury, she gets adopted, 20 yrs later does a DNA test, finds out shes got exactly one living relative in midorijima whos 100% a criminal)

Nevaeh time!!

Was born on a plane and subsequently chucked into a busy road upon landing, but got grabbed by a pair of local punks before anyone could hit her

fall damage gave her a bad leg injury, aka "had to cut the whole leg off" bad, as well as bonking her on the head which gave her severe memory + emotional regulation issues down the line

fast forward 20-ish years, Nevaeh (named after her papa's motorcycle, but backwards) is graduated from high school but a college dropout who's living with her dads and working part time at the local bar trying to save up some money for her own place

eating dinner w her dads when her papa mentions that some guy brought in a really nice motorcycle for repair (fancy Allmate port and everything), but wouldn't say how it got damaged and didn't ask how much it'd cost. obvs a criminal but he seemed like a calm, quiet guy so it probably wouldn't hurt to do the job, but his vibe was Off

he probably gets a felon's bike every single day so nevaeh decides to use her free day to follow her papa to work and see wtf has got him so weirded out about this guy

soon as he walks in, the vibes go bad and its like the whole place gets a little weird, but nevaeh can't shake the feeling that she knows this dude?? from somewhere?? way too old to be a high school classmate, too felon-y to be a teacher, doesn't seem like he'd hit up a bar for funsies, where tf does she know him from????

he gets his bike, pays what he has to + some extra, and leaves without getting his change back. thank god for that but now nevaeh is getting pissed off cause she KNOWS him from somewhere but like everything else, she just can't remember

her papa tells her to use the back door to cool off in the alleyway before she starts breaking stuff, but on her way out, she sees Bad Vibe dude smoking a pipe and leaning on his bike while he talks on his coil (no respect for the bike?? he really is some bad news)

AYO HE'S TALKING ABOUT ARMS SMUGGLING?? nah nevaeh can't hang w this guy he's Crazy crazy

but also she really really really wants to know how tf she knows him and if she doesn't find out she'll forget later and then she'll get more pissed off cause she forgot

fuck it we ball

"omg hey u like ur bike? my papa does great work hes like soo good at it anyways have you ever been to the Casa Flora on Yui-dori?? the high school right across the street?? prison?? i'm taking ur silence as a no just let me know when i get it right"

bad dude taps out his pipe and leaves (do criminals just not have manners now??)

maybe he has one of those familiar faces but lets be honest he looks like a personified brick wall no way he'd just be Some Guy in a crowd nevaeh KNOWS HIM

.........maybe they could b related? nevaeh knows she's adopted, he's the only non-Japanese non-white person she's seen around town besides herself and her dad, and they have similar cheekbone structure......kinda.....if you squint...........

only one way to find out: DNA TEST!!!!!! she sends her dna off to a company that checks Japan, North America, and Europe (covering all the bases here) for any relatives

good news! the test found lots of relatives! bad news! they are all dead!

the company actually has her come in and explains that she has a very very very VERY rare strain of DNA found in a teeny tiny section of North America which was home to a tribe of unnamed Native Americans who were said to be antisocial and reclusive

its most notable feature is a genetic whoopsie in melanin production that makes the eyes a bright gold color, but doesn't seem to affect much else besides maybe a higher chance of skin cancer??

unfortunately, the tribe was wiped out by a group of nationalist terrorists, and nevaeh most likely ended up in Japan because Toue's corporation swooped in to save her remaining family and bring them to Midorijima for treatment--that being said, all of them succumbed to their injuries and died within a few months

she must have gotten lost during the transportation process and was super duper lucky to have minor injuries

(obviously not what happened, but the sudden and violent destruction of an entire village doesn't just get Ignored in a world where social media exists, toue had to cover his ass somehow)

there's only one relative left whose name, age, gender, and living status are unknown, so there's a good chance that they're dead, too, but the company agrees to give Nevaeh whatever genetic information they have on this individual and hopefully she can use it to do some research on her own

its not very specific but she has a few tidbits that might help, namely that they're 42.5% Unknown Native American and 45.7% African-American (similar genetic makeup, so maybe some shared features), higher chance of being a smoker, and very likely to have a mood/personality disorder

.........hey wait a second

#dmmd #dmmd oc #long post #like. really long #im sorry for rambling i just. i love talking about my ocs man #plus this girls been stewing in my brain for a WHILE #if you figured out who her mystery relative is.....god i hope u did #if not thats cool!! its mink :) #why?? cause itd be kinda funny #spends his life devoted to avenging his family only to find out hes got one cousin left and shes annoying #thank u for the ask!!!

[joyswonderland1108]

Um.. OKAY????

So it appears i’ve died and went to heaven, and so did many of us hey nice to meet you all in heaven

But anygays let’s get into today’s events shall we? 

So before anything else even before Suchwita dropped, Jimin and JK have been dominating the industry hellaur?!!!

Ace duo for real! Then comes Suchwita :

As you may all know Jimin talked about his album briefly with Yoongi and with us basically, it was really cute, really fun, really lovely, really heartwarming, you name it, i fucking loved it! And you could tell how precious Jimin is to Yoongi we love to see that 💜

So after the episode Jimin goes on WV and posts this 

All good all good, it’s always a lovely day to get a notification about Jimin posting anything really. About 3h-ish we get a motherfucking notification and who it is? 

Jimin: Sooooo Letter is a song about my feelings to fans, itsafansong ANYGAYS you were saying Yoongi-hyung? 

JK: A song about who? Hold my fucking beer! 

This man i swear to god!! And the first thing he says is that he basically came live to watch Jimin Suchwita episode that he *cough* Initially was going to watch it with him *cough* whatever you mean by that Jungkook-ssi (we all know what he means he didn’t ask him so boldly to come over 3 times on live just for us to start acting dumb now) ANYGAYS! 

So first thing he does before getting to Suchwita is playing Heize’s cover of Still with You (Mind you this is a Jimin live basically and his first thought is to put Still with You on Okay then lover boy) After that he saw a comment talking about his collab with CK and started talking about it calling us all out because “We might’ve noticed that he wears Calvin Klein all the time” that boy knows where Army’s eyes be wandering but hey i don’t feel a drop of shame that man is fine as wine sue me! 

Suchwita Time! 

So now he puts on Suchwita after starting to get frustrated not finding the episode at first going like “Suchwita.. Jiminie-hyung.. Why isn’t Jiminie-hyung appearing right away?!” Youtube stop frustrating my boy give him his Jiminie-hyung! We’re all over here third wheeling somehow, i don’t even know how this turned into us being a third wheel but here we are, JK watching Jimin endeared and us being endeared watching JK being endeared with Jimin, endearedception. 

Then he proceeded to tell us how Set me Free Pt2 is really his style, he reaaaally likes it, he likes it a lot especially the second verse 

Jungkook is just like you and i for real cause.. AZFFAQFKNFNBFKBBZJ/KGBEHB Boy he simping!!! Then Black Swan Jikook appears on the screen and he just

Right.. 

Anygays, should i mention that JK 100% saw that tiktok where they were recreating the choreo from SMF Pt2 LMFAO He then told us that he will wrap up the live after playing some songs (Or so he said) :

12:45 - Stripped by Etham

Thoughtboutu by Karencici

Another day by Gervs

Adrenaline by Lauv

Where does the love go by Maria Isabel

Honeymoon by Johnny Stimson

Set me Free Pt2 by THE PARK JIMIN

(That boy literally just sat there listening to sappy songs after he started the whole live and made it about Jimin)

And then he ended the live as he said he will.. SIKE BITCH YOU THOUGHT! That boy whipped out a BTS compilation and which one it is you may ask?

.. 

That boy is whipped!! Never have i heard him say Jimin’s name that much during a live as much as this live it was a whole lot of “Jimin Jimin Jimin” like a mantra lol And tell me why tf i just watched him almost giggling and kicking his feet like��

And when you think it’s over.. He plays Smf pt2 again 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

Only this time he’s just awestruck really, you and i both JK, understandable. Then that man has the A-U-D-A-C-I-T-Y to whip out a lollipop (an oddly shaped one too) and start suckling on it while listening to “Up at night by Kehlani ft JB” you know just a song with lyrics saying “I think about all of the ways you turn me on”.. For the goodness of all i’m not gonna write my comment “out loud” , i see you, you see me, we see each other. 

 And then 

I’m not even going to comment on the back to back lives, so basically that man said “Y’all wanted to make Letter about Army watch me make a whole live about Jimin” i- *The woman was too stunned to speak* 

And the fact that all of this happened after some dickheads tried to trend some.. things.. That were so very unrelated like.. Who am i? Who are we? Whoa! Because no i still honestly think i’m hallucinating, y’all need to check up on me if i’m stuck in a coma somewhere or something ain’t no way i just witnessed whatever i should even call that? 

I-.. Yeah.. Good for them good for them! Also JK said STREAM FACE!!! (No he didn’t) But he did anygays! Love y’all and love Jikook 💜

#jikook #Kookmin #minkook #Minggukie #Oh JK you're whipped

[justaaveragereader]

Hello👋! Welcome to my Chaotic Corner😁!

Welcome to my blog of absolute clownery and fics! For the basics I’m 24 a proud ‘99 baby, but I feel like I’m boarder lining 105. I go by she/her pronouns and you can call me Syd!

Who do I write for? Currently just Ateez but I’m working my way around to writing for other groups. Ateez is just my ult group!

My sun is a Gemini, moon is Taurus, and my rising is Aquarius. What does that mean? I have no damn clue. So if you know about astrology…please give me some insight. Only thing I know is Gemini has multiple sides to them…let me know which personality you would like me to surface for ya 🤗😀!

INFJ-T

Kpop Groups?

I’m a multi stan! But Ateez is my Ult💙! My biases are Yeosang, Jongho, Mingi and Yunho .

Also love me some Skz! My biases are Binnie 🐷🐰 , Seungmin in the buildinggg, and our fav baby bread I.N.!

I am getting into Svt and I’m already up to my neck in biases🤭. Jun, Woozi, DK, and Seungkwan

BTS, TXT, there just are so many groups and so little time😭!!!!

Just Stuff🤪

My favorite overall tv show is The Golden Girls (if you like this show please…message me😭 lets be friends), some others are Bobs Burgers, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Anime…(if I was to name all them off..it would take me a while💀 but if you like anime👀👀 let’s talks I’m always looking for anime friends😚).

I love cheese😗, it’s the MidWest in me😅! Pepperoni Pizza, Steak, Pickles, Chicken Nuggets…Those are foods/snacks of the champs.

My fav genre of music is anything rock, soft rock, pop rock, grunge, I also like hip hop, pop, r&b.., my music category is HUGE. But rock will always be my #1.

For being a introvert I talk a lot. Especially if I’m comfortable with you. I will possibly talk your ear off! So if you can carry a conversation? I love you cause we will be talking for daysssss!👏

I’m really really friendly I’m just super shy plus I’m a overthinker so when making friends I wait for the other person to make the first move👀.

If you got dark humor…👀Hello Best Buddy! Ummm..Let’s be friends👏! With times like these…dark humor is how I’m making it in life.

I love Lord Of The Rings😭! I cried while watching the second movie.

I was named after a scary movie character!

Some of my favorite anime characters are Fuegoleon from Black Clover, Sesshomaru from Inuyasha, Alfonse from Full Metal, Rengoku and Sanemi from Demon Slayer. Just to name a fewwww

I love love loveeeee Studio Ghibli! Howls Moving Castle? Classic. Who doesn’t love Howl and Calcifer? My Neighbor Totoro? Ummm yes tf 💁‍♀️! Kiki’s Delivery Service? I was convinced all black cats could talk like Jiji as a child.

I curse a lot 😅…so if you are sensitive to cursing…close your eyes and act like it never happened😗.

The Queen Of Sarcasm👑 !

I love reading fics where the author goes “he ran his hands through y/n long luscious hair.” Mean while me and my shaved head are sitting here like 😱!

#justtaaveragereader about me