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toxicanonymity · 8 months

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EVERY INCH 3.

4.4k words, m!ghostface x f!reader

Every inch 🔪 Every inch 2

SUMMARY: Ghostface watches you and calls you. He gets bored, and one of your friends gets killed. You try to swear ghostface off, but he stalks you. You want revenge. A/N: THANK YOU for all the love. Masked Ghostface, inspired by canon gfs & night walks. HC who you want. Enough recap in the first paragraph to read as a one shot. WARNINGS: I8+ noncon p in v, exhibitionism, voyeurism, gun play, choking, degradation, slut shaming, drugs, creampie, noncon breeding, phone sex, masturbation, knife play, a modicum of canon-typical plot/violence. Gf calls himself daddy. DEAD DOVE. NO USE OF Y/N. Starts in GHOSTFACE POV.

You aren't doing yourself any favors by thinking about him every time you get off. You should get on tinder. Go on another date. Get a boyfriend. But there's too much now. You've got a video of him whimpering with his cock out after you had your way with him, and a picture of him with cum all over his robe a minute later. And then there's the mirror pic he took in your bathroom. He's behind you, holding you naked in front of him. There's a look of arousal on your face, and you must be so ashamed, but you keep coming back to look at it every night. . .and you're not the only one.

Ghostface air dropped it to himself right after he took the pic. You should really be more careful with your settings. And your blinds, and your curtains. But you don't wanna be more careful, do you? You've got everything the cops could need to put him away. You even had his DNA, and you kept it to yourself. Allll to yourself. And you’d like to have more of it, wouldn't you? It's fascinating, really, how bad you want his cock.

You haven't heard from him in weeks, but he still comes by every once in a while. He sees your neighbor check in on you, and you keep looking at the time on your apple watch until he leaves. He sees you try on your slutty Halloween costumes– your backside looks best in that tight ass nurse dress, but god damn, your tits in that pleather. What a pretty pussy you are. Meow. He sees you get dressed for bed, and just in time.

You check your phone and glance out your bedroom window before you take out your vibrator. Ghostface takes out his cock and lifts his mask to spit on it. This is his season, you know. You must think about him all the time. Every time you see one of those phony Stab costumes. Every time you carve a pumpkin. He lets you get a head start building to your climax. God damn, you want that cock, and you do an awful job hiding it when you see the call from a restricted number. You look at your phone, biting your lip, and let it ring for a few seconds before you wet your lips and answer it. But you don't say anything. Ohh, playin’ hard to get, are ya?

Ghostface admires the stiffness of his cock in his hand and strokes it while he watches you try not to speak first. It's quite the game of chicken–at least a full minute of silence. He breathes heavier as he strokes himself, and then he hears the buzz of your toy.

"Mmm, good kitty."

"What do you want?" Your breathing is heavy, too.

"Wanna know how bad ya want this cock."

"Is your cock all you think about?"

He breathes a laugh. "That'd make two of us, wouldn't it?"

You scoff, still touching yourself, teasing your clit with your vibrator.

"Yeah that's it," he pants, and you arch your back. "Come for daddy." You come so fast it's pitiful.

You're easy. Too easy. He's getting bored.

You're a bad, bad girl, and he wants to find out how bad. You know, he's never much cared for your "friend" Marla. He suspects you don't either, based on the way you tense at her hug in the bookstore.

—-----you-------

A DILF cop comes by your house. Must be new to the force since you've never seen him. You're used to them checking on you. The COP asks if he can come in, probably trying to be thorough, you think. But he asks you to take a seat, and he sits down next to you on your sofa. When he has trouble meeting your eyes, your pulse quickens.

He knows. He must know somehow. He knows you're a sick fuck who has phone sex with ghostface and gets off to his dick pics every night. Maybe he even knows you fucked him. He might even know you forced him. You're blanking on excuses if they find the photos in your phone. The cop leans forward and his biceps strain the short sleeves of his tan uniform. He wrings his large, veiny hands as he turns his head to look at you. Finally, his big brown eyes meet your gaze, and he tells you, "He's back. Got a crime scene down the block"

The relief lasts about ten seconds, and then you don't have to feign your horror. The blood rushes from your head to your pounding heart. You foolishly thought his killing days might be behind him.

"Officer. . ."

"Call me Javi."

"How do you know it's him, Javi?" You challenge him.

"You really wanna know?" He raises his eyebrows at you.

"It's him, sweetheart." He puts a big, warm hand on your upper back, then slides it up to squeeze your shoulder. "Got someone who can stay with ya?"

You take a few seconds to answer, then whisper, “yeah.”

"Well, if not . . . " he sighs and leans way back on the sofa to reach into his uniform pants for his wallet. "Got a pen?"

He writes his personal number on a business card and leaves it with you. As you let him out the front door, sirens are wailing.

Later, you see the crime scene online. Marla isn't just dead, she's stabbed, slit, and bled dry. The water runs red in the fountain you pass every day on the way out of your neighborhood. A needed reminder of the sicko you’re dealing with.

Over the next few days, you delete the ghostface photos and the video. You get a call from a restricted number and don’t answer it. You get a text from an unsaved number: don’t tell me you thought I changed.

You delete it. When you’re leaving the neighborhood one day, you spot Javi in an unmarked car. When you get to your destination, you text him “why are you following me?”

Like a boomer, he calls you instead of texting back. You don’t answer. Then he replies, “Why don’t you have company? You shouldn’t be alone.”

You send back, “If I have company, will you leave me alone?”

“I can give you some space, sure. But I have a job to do.”

“And what’s that?”

“Keeping you safe.”

—--

You’re not going to let ghostface control your life. You don’t know what would happen if you ran into him now, and you try not to think about it, although you do find yourself going into the trash folder on your phone to look at what you deleted. You make plans to go out with friends. It’s the first weekend of October, and there’s a huge Halloween festival. You put on your nurse costume.

An hour before your friends arrive, your doorbell rings. You look at your app and it’s Javi. Well, this is awkward, you think as you finish pulling up your black, thigh-high fishnets. You answer the door and let Javi in, trying not to let your eyes linger on the way his arms stretch his sleeves. You decline to sit down.

“Look, if you’re gonna go out, you should carry this,” he says, then looks you up and down and his gaze lingers on your cleavage. You clear your throat. He swallows and gives a subtle smile like yeah so what? “Gonna wear a purse?” he asks.

“Wasn’t planning on it.” You roll your eyes.

You reluctantly change into the cat costume and wear a bat purse. You go out with your friends and everyone gets way too drunk. Your friend Sam gets in an altercation after a frat party, and your other friends have to restrain her and walk her home. You’re tired and you don’t want to deal with it. You insist you’ll be fine since you’re armed. You decide to walk a couple blocks before you order your ride home so you can wait somewhere with more people around.

—--ghostface—-

You filthy little slut. Are you enjoying yourself? Ignoring him, playing hard to get, acting like you’re not flattered, then teasing him, prancing around Woodsboro looking like a handjob costs $20. Walking alone through an alley – you really are a dumb bitch, aren’t you?

Ghostface knows where you’re headed. He’s seen you take this route before, so he gets ahead of you and waits. He’s vaping in the shadows behind a fire escape in the alley. When he hears the click of your slutty boots, he hits send: a dark alley? lmao. He hears the ding on your phone and the click of your heels slows down right before you reach the fire escape. no point running, he sends. Then he brings the vape pen under his mask and sucks in a mouth full of smoke, and your phone illuminates your face and your eyes widen.

—--you—--

The alley smells like weed. You’re reading the texts when ghostace appears from behind the fire escape, coming at you with his robe flowing behind him. He only has one glove on. His gloved hand grabs your throat and he pins you to the wall. You choke and gasp for air. He tilts his mask and a small amount of smoke billows out of the dark mesh at the top of his long, black mouth. He eases up on your throat only to move his hand to your jaw and tighten his grip, squeezing your cheeks to keep your mouth open as the smoke billows thicker and closer. His mask is only an inch from your mouth. You close your eyes and breathe in, and as he releases the smoke into your mouth, your clit throbs. You've got butterflies in your chest, being close to him again. You cough.

"Good girl," he says as he relaxes his grip on your jaw. Then his knee nudges your purse out of the way and wedges your thighs open.

“Bet ya miss me more than Marla, don’t ya?”

If only he wasn’t right. There’s a fire burning in the pit of your stomach just being close to him. But Javi will probably be here any minute, and you need to put up a fight so they won't be onto you. You abruptly knee ghostface in the groin. He grunts and falls backward only slightly.

"Bad kitty." He takes you by the throat again as you try to fight back. “Bad, bad girl.” He hasn't brandished his knife, but you know he has it. You can't get your gun out quickly enough. You look at your phone and it flies out of your hand as Ghostface grabs your wrist.

He lets go of you and picks your phone up off the ground, then walks away, robe trailing behind him as he disappears into the night.

You try to follow him, but he loses you. The audacity–he shotguns you, gets you all riled up, takes your phone, and leaves you, just assuming you won’t do anything about it. Assuming you’ll chase him. You think about the fountain scene. You think about him leaving you. Rage eclipses your desire. If you see him, you might actually shoot him. Now all you have is your metro card to get home, and luckily you’re close enough to the train station.

–-

Scattered groups of drunk college students stumble around, bicker, and laugh.

The train doors are open and you jog to make it in time, just barely squeezing in before the door closes behind you. The car is full, but not packed. A Freddy Kruger makes room for you, and you stand with your hand braced on the pole. You get a message on your apple watch, meaning ghostface must be in bluetooth distance.

always wanted to see you on the pole.

You look behind you, and there he is, sitting at the back of the car. You should run, but you’re gonna get your phone back at the very least. There’s too much damage he could do with what’s on it. As the passengers finish unloading, you discreetly open your purse and put your hand on your gun, then set your sights on ghostface, who’s manspreading and sitting back. The only other company in the back of the train car is a Michael Myers who looks to be passed out drunk.

You take out the gun and turn the safety off as you approach ghostface in your slutty cat costume. He pulls back his head and cowers in an exaggerated oh, i’m scared move. He stays quiet, for once.

“My phone,” you tell him.

He looks around, pretending like he has no idea what you’re talking about.

“Now,” you order and put your finger on the trigger. He takes a phone out of his pocket, but it’s not yours.

“What the hell’s wrong with you,” you ask. The train jolts and you’re propelled onto him. You brace yourself with your free hand on his strong shoulder, and when you feel his hard muscle, butterflies swarm to your core. If he isn’t going to offer up your phone, you’ll have to find it yourself. You press the muzzle of the gun into his neck, through the fabric of his mask. He freezes. You reach under his robe and pat him down, finding nothing in the front pockets of his jeans. You should check his back pockets, but first you grab his crotch while you’re at it and laugh when he’s semi-hard.

“Cock’s the only thing you’re good for, and this is what you’ve got for me?” His mask tilts down, watching you grope him. You savor the feeling of control. “Worthless,” you spit. Desire bubbles between your thighs as you feel him harden in your grip. Fuck it, you’re gonna take him one last time. You don’t want the last memory of all this to be him dominating you in your bathroom. You wanna go out on top. You fumble with his button and zipper with your free hand, then command, “Take it out.”

He tilts his mask at you, then looks behind you as though seeing who’s around.

“No one’s looking,” you mutter. “Stop fucking around.” You hold the gun to his neck and he urgently takes his hard cock out. You reach down for it. It’s thick and warm in your hand. “Don’t feel half as big as ya look on camera,” you tell him. “Pretty sad.” You spit in your hand and reach for his cock again. “So desperate for my attention,” you mock him. “You’ll do anything, wont ya?”

This is fine, you tell yourself, You’ll tell the cops he forced you, and then you’ll even have his DNA, and they can catch him, and this can all be over. . .after one last ride.

You put your knees on the seat on either side of him. You hover over his cock and use your free hand to run the head through your dripping folds, then you sink onto him and bottom out with ease. His cock twitches against your walls, and a shiver races down your spine. Your nipples harden, visible even through your pleather top. The sheer arousal pisses you off. He feels too good. A man like this doesn't deserve to be so good at dicking you down, without even trying. Without doing anything. You move up and down him, and he does exactly nothing. He knows it gets you off. You hate how full he makes you feel. You resent the incomparable pleasure that will linger in your mind, in your whole body, for days. Maybe forever.

He moans soft enough that the voice changer doesn't pick it up. You wince at the sound of his humanity.

Something comes over you. “Shut the fuck up,” you tell him as you bring yourself down on his cock again. . “I don't wanna hear your voice." You raise yourself up. "I don’t wanna know who you are." You roll your hips into him. "I don’t fucking care. I don’t care about you at all," you bite, fucking yourself on his cock, dripping wetter and wetter. You keep degrading him as you fuck him. "You’re nothing to me." In your lower belly, a climax is building. "You’re a faceless cock. Always have been.” He sits motionless as you ride him harder. Maybe it was the weed, but you can’t get enough.

When the train reaches the next stop, you tug down your dress as much as you can and sit still on his cock. You hide the gun between your bodies.

Your watch dings with a notification–an unsaved number.

how's the 🍆

A shadow eclipses you from behind, and you hear the snap of a picture. Your face goes ice cold.

"Oh you're a reeeeeal bad girl, aren't ya?" The real ghostface says behind you. All the hair on your body stands up, and your heart pounds as you look at the costume in front of you. The lack of gloves, the quality of fabric, the jeans under it. The cock of a stranger twitches inside you and the gun shakes in your hand. "What the fuck," you mutter. You start to get off the man, but the real ghostface slams you back down on him.

"Oh don't stop now, kitty. "

He holds you down on the man's cock. "Lovin’ this Halloween special. sure he is, too. Ain't ya, buddy?"

"What the hell’s goin' on," the man mutters in a regular voice.

You’re about to berate the man for deceiving you. "You let me," then you feel the heavy weight of the gun in your hand and stop short, shame rushing into every blood vessel of your body.

"Better finish what ya started," the real Ghostface says. "A happy customer won't snitch, right brother?"

When you don't move, Ghostface says, "god damnit," then squats down and wraps his arm around you. "Do I have to do everything?" He lifts you up a little, so the man's cock almost falls out, then drops you back down. He lifts you up and down the man's hard cock, and it's horrifically erotic having Ghostface fuck you on another man's dick. The real Ghostface cock is hard against your back.

Ghostface adjusts his grip and grabs a tit as he forces you up and down. The man’s Stab mask tilts down, watching his cock disappear into you again and again. Your lips part, and a moan slips out.

"Oh, you filthy, filthy girl," Ghostface chides.

"Shut up," you snap as Ghostface sheaths the man’s cock with you again.

"Gonna cum for him, pumpkin? Milk his cock?"

No, God no, this random guy can't cum inside you. Your body stiffens and you shake your head no.

"Oh, c'mon, kitty."

"No," you whimper.

Ghostface sighs in exasperation and one of his arms leaves your torso for a moment. Then he points his knife at the man you're riding. "Ten seconds."

Ghostface holds the knife to your throat as he keeps manhandling you on the guy's cock, counting down, "ten," he lifts and lowers you, "nine," stuffing you with the man's cock, "eight," and he's only at "seven," when the man flattens his back and arms against the subway seats and shudders as he lifts his hips into you. Ghostface forces you down, and you cry, "no," drowned out by the man's groan as he cums. You moan at his pulsations. It's sick, disgustingly hot, getting pumped full of this stranger's cum on a subway car with Ghostface holding a knife to your throat. Your spine arches and you begin to convulse, milking the stranger’s cock just like Ghostface told you to.

"Hellll yeahhh." Ghostface gropes your tit. His cock twitches against your back. He addresses the stranger, "She's hot for a serial rapist, right?" as he lets your weight fully down onto the man. He lets you push yourself off the man, and ghostface holds you by your neck so you won't run. As the man's cock flops sloppily onto his open jeans, Ghostface tells him, "now get the fuck outta here." The man in the ghostface mask is still zipping up his pants when Ghostface adds, "this one needs a real big cock." Then Ghostface asks you, "don't ya, pumpkin?" And takes the man's seat.

The train comes to a stop and as the man scurries out of the subway car, he warns other riders not to board the car. He’s removing his mask as the train pulls away, but you don’t get to see him. Ghostface takes the man's seat and hikes up his robe, revealing his pj pants. He takes his cock out and manhandles you onto his lap. You hover. You're not about to hop on his dick, but let’s face it, you’re not gonna put up a fight, either. You're tired. You're confused. You're horny as hell. There must be something in that weed.

Out the window, everyone is staring as the train slowly pulls away.

Ghostface hikes your dress all the way up and stares between your legs with the stranger's cum seeping out of you.

"Look at this mess," he catches the cum with the flat of the knife, cool against your folds. He slowly drags the knife toward himself, then angles it up toward your mound. Then he takes the knife off you. He wraps his hand around your ass and the handle of the knife rests against your skin. “Now sit on daddy’s cock.”

He lifts you onto his cock. He hesitates with his tip notched at your entrance, and you twitch with need. Then he pulls you down, and his thick cock stretches you – a pleasant, easy stretch – as you sink onto him. He's bigger than the cock you just had.

"What's my favorite movie?" He asks, then begins to move you on his cock. He holds you still. You're dying for friction. "Strangers on a train," he answers for you, and you ignore him. "Hitchcock's overrated,” Ghostface says. “Now I've got my *own*.” Great, he took a video, too. This is bad for you, really bad, but all you can think about is the big, hard cock inside you. He's still not moving, and neither are you. Your clit is throbbing. You begin to rock your hips as the train slows down .

Ghostface slaps your ass with his bare hand. "Made for the screen, baby." His hips begin to move under you, finally. You close your eyes, feeling his thick shaft pump in and out of you, sliding with ease through the other man's cum. "Sure can take a cock." He feels so fucking good. Why did he have to kill again? Why can't he just fuck you? God his cock feels good. "Bet ya coulda taken us both," ghostface says and his cock twitches inside you. "Ohh, fuck." The train stops. He puts down his knife and takes the gun from you. "Yeah, this hole could take two, no problem." His crude words are making you throb more. You feel people watching from the train window, and your face is hot, but you can't get enough of this cock. "Maybe that's what this filthy cunt needs. Two cocks." Your walls twitch around him. "Ooohhh, like the sound'a that, don't ya?" You feel an orgasm building in your gut. "Hell yeah, dirty girl."

The train leaves the station again. “Maybe next time I’ll bring a friend.” he brings the gun to your face. He prods your cheek with the muzzle. Then nudges your lips open and you groan in protest.

"Give it a kiss, pumpkin'" You pull your head back and turn your cheek. Your heart is beating out of your chest. Your vision is blurry. Your body is dizzy with pleasure and adrenaline. Ghostface gives up on putting the gun in your mouth. He drags the cool metal down your face, around your neck, to your back, then keeps dragging it down. Then he slouches down in the seat and adjusts your angle on top of him, pulling you tighter against his chest.

His massive, ungloved hand lifts your ass cheeks out of the way and spreads you wide. He brings you upward, letting most of his cock out, then you feel the cool metal at your dripping entrance. He wedges the cold muzzle of the gun into your pussy right alongside his cock. "Yeah, take it, kitty."

You groan as he pulls you down on his cock and the gun. What has he done to you? Why is this so hot? "Yeah, knew ya could take two cocks." To your horror, you find your hips rocking. "Fuck yeah," he growls. The barrel of the gun is cool against the back wall of your cunt, and your hole is squeezing his cock tighter now. He wriggles the gun around in a circular motion against his cock. "Ohh yeah." The train speeds up. "Hold on tight," he warns. He begins to manhandle you on his cock and the gun. You're on the edge. Your asshole tightens and tension swells in your core.

"Fuck," you whisper.

He feels it. "Yeah, that's right." You hold your breath. "Cum for me, pumpkin, or I'll make you into pie." Your climax overtakes you and you wince as you clench around the gun and his cock.

"Goooood giirl," he says with your body jerking around his. "There's daddy's little slut." Wave after wave hits you and your cunt squeezes him and the gun. He holds you tighter against him and lifts you enough to slide the gun out, leaving your exhausted cunt looser around him. “Yeah, plenty’a room for two.” You're still having aftershocks. They're not fading, like another one could build. You reach for your clit. "Needy, needy cunt." You rub yourself and he rocks you on his cock until you cum again.

"Hell yeah," he moans when you clench around him. Then he erupts inside you with a groan. His cock pulses against your walls as his warm spend mixes with the other man's. "Yeahhh." His cum goes on and on. "Fuck, yeahh."

As soon as he's finished coming, he pulls you off his lap. He tucks his cock back in his PJs. The train rolls to a stop.

He pats your lower belly. “Won’t know who's the father," he chides, "but at least ya know who's daddy."

—

May 2024 update - I have 3 more parts outlined for this summer.

-------------------

THANK YOU FOR READING. If you want more parts, reblogs and comments make all the difference.

Now that you know what happens, it's a solid re-read. Especially when reader is degrading him 😭 lmk your thoughts when you come back to reread lol.

if you liked this smut, you could check out raider Joel meanwhile.

Also BTW gasolinerainbowpuddles is responsible for giving me the kink of degradation about unknown paternity starting with the fic liquid gold which is amazing.

#ghostface x reader #ghostface smut #ghostface x you #slasher smut #slasher fanfiction #cw noncon #tw noncon #night walks #ghostface #slasher fucker #billy loomis x reader #ethan landry x reader #toxicanonymity ☠️#mickey altieri #dead dove #danny johnson x reader #love2cuck #ghostface ☠️

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moechies · 1 month

Text

sugu breaking your fever 〜（ゝ。∂）

“how d’ya feel pretty?”

“still feel like shit.”

you whine into his chest, the warm compress that once laid on your tummy is held in place by the man.

“y’know.. i heard that orgasms break fevers.”

“what? can’t be, s-stop it.”

“mm what’s the harm in trying?”

“c-cus i’m sick sugu! don’t wanna get you sick too. s-s okay, i’ll get better so—“ your quieted by a cough, followed by the man pressing the glass of water towards your lips.

“doesn’t seem likely pretty. c’mon, let me finger you at least, hm?”

“y-you’re so weird, sugu.”

“that means yes, right?” he slithers atop of you, looking down with a sly grin that you can’t help but flush at. he presses kisses to your hot skin, whining when he nips at your sensitive neck.

“s-sugu, ‘s hot.”

“hmm.. air conditionings on gorgeous..” he teases.

he lifts your shirt, releasing your tits, giving them a light grope. you whine at the sensation of his cold hand pressing against your hot flesh, a slight buck in your hips that yearns for more.

“don’t rush, pretty. we have all day.”

he leans in between your thighs, slim fingers that come to toy with the band of your panties. he presses a harsh kiss to your sticky clit, twitching from the attention.

“needy girl.” he snickers, whistling when he pulls the crotch of your panties to the side. he watches your feverent cunt pulse with need, cute clit swollen and aching for more.

“s-sugu, stop staring.!”

in a short attempt to close your thighs, to prove some decency to the perverted man, you’re met with a gentle slap to your inner thigh. you mewl, anticipating more as he drags a gentle finger through your slit.

“mm, say you want it. tell me ya want my fingers inside, honey.”

“s-sugu don’t tease please.. y-you were the one that said you wanted to give it t’me..”

“mhm, know what i said. now tell me, you want it right?”

you huff, but at last you fall into the man’s trap, “yes s-suguru, wan’ it. want you inside, y-your fingers, please.”

“mm, good girl.” he hums against your thigh, a singular digit slipping into your moist cunt.

“s-sugu..!” you moan with surprise.

“see? if you’re good, ya get what you want, right?”

“y-yes..!”

“now take it gorgeous.” he slips another finger along side his first, curling himself against your sweet gummy walls. you flinch at the sensation, every moment he’s inside of you pushes you towards your high.

he comes up to face your ecstatic expression, smothering your hot skin with gentle but sloppy kisses. you flinch at the sensation, body sensitive due to your cold. it’s all so intense, better, even.

“suguru, p-please..!”

“mhm, patient sweet girl.”

“need t’cum, pleasepleaseplease.. daddy..”

“oh? how dirty, baby. thought you were feeling sick. y’asking for more now?” he chuckles.

“mfgh, d-daddy please.. gonna cum..!”

“yeah? want daddy t’make you cum?”

“yesyes, please..!”

and you do, back arching from the intense sensation, your boyfriends fingers covered in a heavy slick; a sight he’s definitely not new to.

“there you go baby. good girl, such a good girl.”

he pulls himself out gently, wrapping his lips around his own digits, sucking your cum off his fingers. the entire time he stares into you, a teasing smirk spread across his expression.

“stop doin’ that sugu.! ‘s gross!” you whine, flustered from the eye contact he forcefully holds.

“taste so sweet baby.” he teases once again.

he unlatches himself with a ‘pop!’ bending over you to press a heavy kiss onto your lips. he can’t help but laugh when you moan into his mouth, overwhelmed.

“sugu.. tired..”

he presses another kiss onto the soft of your cheek, leaving your side to clean you up for bed.

upon cleaning you up, his heart softens at your sleepy expression and soft snores, pressing a final kiss onto your forehead before slipping besides you.

bonus . . ♡

the morning after is so much better. the sunlight beams through the curtains , the blankets laid on top of you two is just warm enough. doubt him all you want , but turns out his dumb little factoid proves to be true !

but of course he didn’t listen , and now he’s caught your cold.. whining and tugging at your sleeve for you to take care of him , to ride his pain away and make him orgasm so that his fever breaks too.

“y’have to return the favor princess.”

“no, you perv!”

“please, you owe me baby.”

#jjk #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #suguru x you #geto suguru smut #suguru smut #getou suguru #getou x reader #jjk getou #geto smut #getou suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto x you #jjk geto

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loveshotzz · 2 months

Text

18+

summary: The rainy night Steve asks you to move in with him.

wc: 1k

warnings: fem!reader, older!steve, age gap (steve is 43, reader is 30), p in v sex, cream pie, slightly subby begging steve, slight breeding kink, mentions of drinking at dinner.

This blurb belongs to my series All I Really Want Is You but can be read as a stand alone. Just missed my favorite old man 🥺

Steve’s forehead is pressed to yours, sweat dripping off that one strand that just won’t stay back with a love drunk stare that threatens to swallow you whole. You almost get lost in the gold that still shimmers in the darkness of his blown out eyes, freshly done nails digging half crescent moons into the constellations on his shoulder blades. Your knees sit on either side of his hips, sticky skin clinging to the brown leather of his couch making every bounce on his lap threaten to rub them raw, but you could care less. Not when he’s looking at you like this.

The rain hits the sliding glass door of his backyard, beige curtains drawn hiding you both from the two day rain storm that’s kept you away from your apartment and mostly in his bed. One of his arms loops around your waist, holding you close from the small of your back.

Chest to chest, his coarse hairs tickle the soft skin of your breasts, long fingers digging into the plush curve of your hip. A palm as warm as the electric fireplace behind you cups the back of your neck, the pad of his thumb rubbing circles against the sensitive spot behind your ear he likes to kiss every morning.

Spearmint and whiskey from the drinks you had at dinner fill the space between you with every breath that fans against your lips. Sweet nothings said with drunken abandon, noses bumping with every thrust, the length of him stretching you in a way that has your eyes roll in the back of your head every time he meets the roll of your hips.

“If you think I’m letting you resign that lease this summer,” he breathes, somehow pulling you even closer, making him go deeper, whispering a sweet ‘I know’ when you whine before finishing his thought, “you’re crazy honey.”

Thunder rumbles in the distance outside, your walls fluttering around him in a way that makes him twitch inside of you, eyebrows marrying together when your fingers find their way into the silver and chestnut hair that curls at the nape of his neck.

“Tryin’ to keep me all to yourself huh?” You tease, the liquid courage helping you stay calm at the realization of what he was implying. A conversation you’ve both tiptoed around when five nights a week sleepovers between places became a regular thing.

His top lip catches on your bottom, the corners of his mouth twitching in a smirk before he steals a kiss that has you chasing his tongue with yours letting him take control. The grip on your waist tightens, stopping your movements while the roll of his hips becomes pointed in your undoing.

”God, yes baby, please.” He moans, perfect teeth nipping at your bottom lip when you tug on his roots, the tip of him teasing the spot that has you gasping his name, “I want you every day, please.”

The thumb behind your ear applies just enough pressure for you to turn your head to the side, letting him kiss a sloppy trail up your jaw, whispering ‘please’ after each one. Loosening his hold enough for you to grind your hips, you meet his thrusts in a way that has the hair on his pelvic bone catch your clit with the perfect pressure over and over again.

”Oh my god, Steve.” You gasp, pulling at his hair hard enough for his lips to meet yours again. Something a little smug behind them.

“Yeah?” His hot breath makes you shudder as you find just the right rhythm.

“Feels s’good, you always make me fuck -“ the buildup you’ve already had three times today returns like its the first time all over again, lashes tickling the tops of your cheeks.

“I know honey, I can feel it, you can give it to me, you know I want it.” He hums against your lips, the tip of his tongue teasing yours.

The hand on your hip snakes between your thighs, the pad of his thumb finding your clit, rubbing the kind of messy circles that has your legs start to shake.

”Wanna make you cum every day, please.” Grunting when the roll of your hips makes his toes curl against the hardwood floor, he knows he’s not going to last much longer.

“Tell me you’re gonna let me baby.” Steve practically whines and all you can do is nod because even every day doesn’t seem like enough.

What’s longer than forever?

“Cum inside me,” you whine, “I want it, god, I need it.”

The groan that rumbles from his chest at your request is enough to rival the thunder that gets close enough to shake the house, and the band that wound up tight enough to snap finally does just that, your cunt giving him no choice but to listen to you as you fall apart on his lap.

“Anything - anything you want.” He pants against your open mouth, twitching against your fluttering walls before spilling everything that’s left of him inside of you. The blunt ends of his nails dig into your hip keeping you close so you have to take every last bit, one day hoping you’ll want it to stick.

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x fem!reader #my writing #all i really want is you #older!steve harrington

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bahablastplz · 2 months

Text

Canvas: Hyunjin x Reader

Content: A late night with your boyfriend turns into something more as you both try something you had only talked about before; smut and fluff Warnings: p in v sex, unprotected sex, cockwarming, heavy heavy praise WC: 2500 Happy birthday Hyunjin <3

Hyunjin was painting again.

As you roll out of bed in the middle of the night, this fact is apparent. The smell of paint wafts from the living room where he has his work space set up. A large tarp on the floor, a small easel propped up and a lamp set to illuminate his latest work. Paints lay haphazardly around him, a blend of colors and shades of hues mushed across the palette. The rest of the room was dimly lit, moonlight shimmering through the curtains and shining on your boyfriend’s face. God, he was breathtaking. One paintbrush is in his mouth and the other in his hand, gliding across the canvas. The sight makes you let out a breathy laugh.

“Love?” He looks up at you now, watching your frame as you admire him from the wall. The lamp light reflects onto his dark-framed glasses when his gaze meets yours, and you smile at how the yellow and orange lights glow across his features. He smiles back. It’s a small gesture, and even though you’ve seen him smile hundreds of times the gesture warms your heart.

You cross the room in your nightgown, the cold breeze from the air-conditioning causing you to curl into yourself slightly. Hyunjin beckons to the spot on the floor beside him and you take it eagerly, body curling around him and head resting on his lap.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you ask him. He has the habit of sneaking away in the night, so as to not wake you, and painting until the sun starts to creep through the windows. It’s cathartic for him, a way for him to get away from his thoughts that trouble him in the night. In moments like this you love to watch him, how his brows furrow in concentration and his lips get caught between his teeth. Hyunjin was the most in his element when he had a canvas in front of him.

“Mm,” he confirms. He checks his hand to make sure no paint dirties it before he rests it on your hip, drawing soothing circles on top of your nightgown. Your head nuzzles deeper into him and you breathe in his scent, letting out a content hum.

“Did I wake you?” He asks a moment later. His hand moves effortlessly across canvas, dappling acrylic paint across a vision of flowers that was already the picture of perfection to you–but would probably take him at least a few more hours to complete. He was a perfectionist like that; he could point out every absence of color, needed highlight or small imperfection of his work that was near imperceivable to you.

“No, the bed was just cold. I wanted to see where you were,” you hum against his skin. Your words were true, of course; because you get so hot when you sleep next to your boyfriend, the house usually stays a bit chillier but you notice his absence sometimes when he leaves the bed late at night. He now wears a dark colored hoodie that swallows his features, meant for his comfort when lounging around the house like this. His pants are also meant for lounging, the gray sweatpants soft but covered in remnants of previous art projects known lovingly as his ‘painting pants.’

“Do you want me to warm you up?” You nod and crawl into his lap, nuzzling your face right into the crook of his neck. He lets out a breathy laugh underneath you, arms wrapping around your frame to bring you closer as he continues to work. After a few minutes your boyfriend leans closer to the canvas, examining a piece of his work that must have not looked right to him. This action shifts your position, however, your core now pressed right against his clothed length. You tense against him and your breath hitches slightly, and you know that he’s caught on to your arousal.

“How much longer?” You whine against him. He lets out a laugh and uses his free hand to stroke your back, long fingers moving languidly across your spine. The action is meant to soothe you but has the opposite effect, sending an electrical shock down your body and causing you to let out a small breath.

“Why, love? Are you feeling needy for me?” You nod almost embarrassingly fast. While you love watching Hyunjin paint and could for hours, you can’t help the want that settles deep in your gut that begs for his touch, his attention, and his desire to be released toward you.

“I was hoping to paint for a while more,” he confesses. You try not to let your disappointment show, but you let out a moan as the man’s hand finds your hips, pushing you harder against him. The friction that meets your core has you feeling more desperate and you buck into him and he’s smiling, and it infuriates you to know he’s intentionally trying to work you up. He has always loved seeing you pliant, needy and desperate for him, and you were unfortunately already in that state somehow. “Do you want to sit on my cock baby?” Your head reels back to look at him with wide eyes. “You can sit on my cock while I paint but you have to be good and promise not to move, okay?”

You had talked with him about cock-warming before but it was never something you had actually done. Now, it must be just past 3 a.m., and you were finally turning the hypothetical into reality–it felt unreal. You let out an affirmative sound and nod your head, and he’s maneuvering your bodies to get you set up. He repositions you so that you’re on your knees above him, slightly towering over him where he sits on the floor. He’s lifting his hips up and pushing his pants down just past his thighs, releasing his cock and pumping it one, two times. He’s hard already, and you watch him in awe as he works to pleasure himself in front of you. It’s just for a second, but enough for him to have your breath come to a stop, which is exactly what he was waiting for.

His hands find place on your waist. He’s hitching your nightgown up above your hips, leaving you bare for him. It’s no secret that sometimes you sleep without underwear on, but he smirks at you and stares in a way that leaves you feeling utterly exposed despite him having seen you like this hundreds of times. His fingers come up to your core, rubbing it and gathering your wetness to spread it around your folds. You let out a moan at the action, thankful for the contact before he’s dragging you down and placing his cock at your entrance.

He leans back on his hands and looks up at you, waiting for you to do the rest. And so you do, piercing yourself onto him and sliding down his length, inch by inch. Hyunjin was well-endowed, so to speak, so it was never an easy fit to take him but it felt pleasurable nonetheless. Finally he is fully inside you, and your breathing and each moan is completely synced with one another. A hand comes up to bring a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and the movement is so domestic and loving that it makes your heart pang in your chest.

“Beautiful,” is all he says.

He brings your nightgown back down so that it covers you up, remembering your recent complaint about being cold. Your head finds its place back on his shoulder, in the crook of his neck like it’s your home.

And, he continues painting.

You’re not sure why you’re surprised–that’s exactly what he said he was going to do. Your boyfriend has a lot of self-control and restraint that you did not, and it was especially evident when you were intimate. While you often become wrecked from the start, he would let his pleasure build up and would reel from the delayed gratification of it all.

Your knees find the ground and before you can help yourself, you put your weight on them. You’re propping yourself up, sliding up his length about halfway, before crashing back down. Your clit drags deliciously across his abdomen in the process, causing you to let out a heavy sigh of pleasure. You rock against him only one more time before strong hands find your shoulders, pushing you down hard. You try to bounce up again and find that you’re unable, his grip keeping you in place so firmly that you cannot budge despite your attempts.

“Don’t,” he scolds. His words are sharp, not laced with venom but to remind you of his earlier demands.

At this angle, his hands pushing you down causes his cock to be seated deeper inside you than before and you let out an embarrassing squeak. You feel so full, and you tell him so.

He has an idea; he grabs you and leans forward, grabbing your legs and wrapping them around his torso. When he sits back down, you are now unable to give yourself the momentum needed to move your hips or rock against his length. You are fully seated on him and he is fully inside you, his arms wrapping around you and holding you flush against him as he continues his work.

It’s silent, now, with the exception of your shallow and uneven breathing. You find yourself clenching against him over and over again, reeling in the sensation of him inside you. And it’s just that–you can really feel him like this, every ridge and vein, every pulse of him inside you, and it has you feeling lightheaded.

“God, baby, you’re gushing around me,” he whispers into your hair. “Taking me so good.” His praise makes you smile and squeeze tighter around him and he groans. You feel smug to finally get him to lose his composure, but he starts spouting more praise that makes all thoughts vanish in an instant.

“So good for me, baby, you know that? Such a good pussy. You’re the love of my life, God, you were made just for me. You were made for me to love you, to hold you like this… So pretty for me. You’re all mine, meant to take my cock, yeah?” You whimper against him, the mixture of sweet nothings and sexual praise whispered to you making you feel dizzy.

It’s several more minutes before you say something, finally coming to the conclusion that you would have to be the one to initiate it further, if he would even let you.

“Please…” It’s all you can say at first.

“What, love?” He teases. He knows exactly what you want.

“Need you to move, please, Hyune… It’s too much. Need to cum,” You beg. You’re sure you sound pathetic but you can’t find it in you to care. If there’s anyone who’s not only willing but wanting to see you in your most pathetic and vulnerable states, it’s Hyunjin.

“Poor thing, does it feel that good?” His voice asks with a small lilt in it. You’re sniffling now, embarrassed about the tears starting to spill down your cheeks but so overcome in pleasure and sensitivity; you can both feel it in the ways that you clench around him unabashedly. He brings his head back to see your face, to examine your tears. He’s seen you on the verge of tears a few times while having sex from being overwhelmed by pleasure, and though it always makes his heart tighten because he’s the one that’s doing that to you, he’s the one making you feel that good, he knows it’s about time you’ve reached your limit. He wipes a stray tear away and you don’t even realize that he has dropped his paintbrush until he’s picking you up and bringing you over to the couch.

He leans back, enraptured by you, and brings you in for a sweet but messy kiss. It’s open-mouthed and hot, and it feels like you’re breathing into him and filling up his lungs. Your tongues meet and you’re covered in spit, a mixture of yours and his, and suddenly his hands are on your hips and his feet are planted strongly on the ground. He doesn’t disconnect his mouth from yours as he thrusts up into you long and hard, but any coherence is long since gone and you’re not sure you’re even kissing back anymore, instead giving loud, high-pitched moans into his mouth.

His hands move to the undersides of your thighs and he uses his strength to piston into you. In this way, you can only take what he gives but it’s more than enough, as he knows your body better than you do.

“I’m close, love,” he confesses. He lets his head fall back onto the couch but his eyes never leave yours, drinking up your scrunched up face and open-mouthed pants. It’s no surprise that you’re both close to your arrival so soon, after sitting on him for so long your pleasure feels like it’s increased tenfold.

“Me too,” you say, struggling to get the words out. You didn’t have to tell him, though. He could tell by the way you were starting to tighten around him.

“Go ahead and touch your pretty clit for me, make yourself come.” You follow his command, hand snaking down to where your bodies meet. He was right, you were absolutely soaked, and you use this wetness to shakily circle around your clit. His thrusts get harder, deeper, the way they do right before he cums. Unsurprisingly, you beat him to it, clenching all over his length and throwing your head back as you release.

He follows suit, thrusting into you a few more times before he finds his release, spilling deep inside of you. He holds you close, rutting into you now slowly and working you both through your intense orgasms. When he stills, you collapse into his arms and he holds you tight, embracing you and running a hand through your hair as he praises you. When he finally pulls you off of him you feel empty and this makes you whine. Hyunjin pulls up his sweatpants and carries you to your shared bathroom, placing you onto the sink as he runs the bath. It’s late, but you feel grimy and covered in sweat so the bath is more than welcomed.

When you look into the mirror, you can’t help but laugh. Your nightgown is covered in paint at your hips and your waist. Though he had tried to be so careful, you suppose it was the risk that came with the reward. When Hyunjin sees the target of your laughter, he joins you and apologizes sheepishly, promising to buy you another.

“It’s okay, this can just be my paint nightgown,” you joke. “I’ll wear it the next time we have sex while you’re painting.” He smiles at you affectionately, and when you finally get back to sleep it’s in his arms and your bed is warm again.

*** Masterlist Recs

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bratzforchris · 2 months

Text

Prank, C. Sturniolo

Summary: When pranking Chris and having a smart mouth gets you in trouble, you see just how far he's willing to go to get your attitude in check

Pairing: Brat tamer!Chris x feminine reader

Warnings: HEAVY smut, dom/sub dynamics, brat tamer!Chris, reader being the biggest brat in LA, overstimulation, spanking, vibrator usage (partnered), spitting, p in v, rough sex, degradation/teasing

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Save me brat tamer!Chris...brat tamer!Chris save me. In all seriousness though, this is fiction!! Thank you for reading and enjoy some smut ;)

Sunlight filtered through the white, linen curtains of your and Chris’s shared room, slowly bringing you to life after a wonderful night’s sleep. You blinked open your eyes, realizing you were still tightly wrapped in Chris’s arms, both of you naked and tangled in each other’s embrace. Last night hadn’t even been sexual, which was a rather rare occurrence. Sometimes, you both simply enjoyed the feeling of each other’s skin. You couldn’t say that you minded the hold, though. Your boyfriend’s bare chest was soft against your back as he snored quietly, cheeks red with pillow marks and fluffy brown hair fanned out across the sheets.

You smiled at the angelic sight, running your thumb softly across his cheek before craning your neck to see what time it was. It had to be later than you thought; you were far too well-rested for it to be any earlier than ten am. Sure enough, the clock on Chris’s nightstand had just flicked to 10:15. You knew he had quite the busy day today with running errands for upcoming videos and meeting, so you began to softly scratch your acrylic nails across his scalp in a gentle attempt to wake your lover.

“Chris, it’s time to wake up, baby.” You whispered softly, feeling smooth, brown curls slip through your fingers.

Chris groaned, rolling over and stretching. The white sheets were a stark contrast against his tanned skin as yawned and pulled you closer to himself, speaking huskily in your ear. “Gimme five more minutes. What time is it?”

“Time for you to get up.” You sassed back, a cute little smirk on your face.

“Mmmm, you better watch that smart fuckin’ mouth, baby doll.” Chris mumbled, morning voice gravelly against your skin as he kissed your neck.

You whined as his lips pressed against your skin, warm and plump. “You know you love my mouth. I seem to recall you saying ‘Oh baby, that feels so good…love your mouth on my cock.’ the other night.” You snorted.

Chris rolled his eyes, finally letting you go. “You’re gonna get yourself in trouble one day, you know that?” he asked, pinching your bare ass rather roughly as he sat up.

You yelped cutely, tackling Chris against the bed and peppering his cheeks with kisses. “I know. But until then, enjoy it.”

Your boyfriend kissed you back roughly, before setting you back on the bed and standing up, pulling on a pair of gray sweatpants. “I’m going to shower. Get cute while I’m gone.” he winked, tugging on the end of your hair gently.

You watched as Chris disappeared into the bathroom, humming to himself. You absolutely loved to mess with Chris, enjoying the way his normally bright, blue eyes would darken with lust and the way you could practically get off without him touching you on his rough words and mannerisms. You looked around the bedroom, thinking of ways you could get back at him for that little ‘smart mouth’ comment earlier. An idea dawned on you when you saw your pile of pink, girly clothes laying on the chair in the corner. You had recently cleaned out your storage bin from under the bed, exchanging your winter clothes for summer clothes. Sure enough, you hopped off the bed and peered under the frame, only to see that the space was completely empty. Enough so that you could definitely get under the mattress if you tried.

You quickly pulled on the silky, white sleep camisole and shorts that you had abandoned at the foot of the bed last night so that the carpet wouldn’t burn your skin. Getting down on all fours, you easily slid under the bed, giggling to yourself as your hair fanned out across the carpet. A while back, Chris had stated in a podcast episode that his most irrational fear was that something was under his bed and would grab his ankles. You had laughed the information off at first, but now seemed like the perfect time to recall it.

A few minutes later, you heard the shower shut off and tried to suppress your giggles. This wouldn’t work if Chris heard you. You waited until you heard the bathroom door open to extend your arms, ready to pounce. Sure enough, Chris padded into your bedroom and over to his nightstand to grab his everyday accessories of his chain and earrings. You waited to be sure he hadn’t heard you, before lunging your arms out, grabbing his ankles, and screaming “RAHHHH.”

The yelp Chris let out was akin to that of a four-year-old girl. Your boyfriend practically jumped straight in the air, before shaking you off his ankles and roughly pulling you out from under the bed. “What the fuck was that for?” he asked harshly.

“Gotcha.” You grinned from ear-to-ear as Chris finally pulled you all the way out from under the bed.

“That wasn’t fucking funny!” Chris protested, but you could see a smirk forming at the corners of his mouth as he looked you up and down.

“Was so.”

“Was not.”

“Was so.” You giggled, poking his stomach with your pointer finger.

Maybe it was the comment from earlier, or maybe you were just in the mood to fuck with your dom, but either way, you were getting a rise out of messing with Chris. Bratting was probably one of your favorite things; you loved to push his buttons, seeing just how much you could get away with before he would snap and fuck you into next year.

“What’s gotten into you this morning, huh?” Chris asked, raising his brow as he moved to the dresser and pulled on his clothes for the day.

“What’s gotten into you?” You retorted. “That scream sure didn’t sound like a grown man. It sounded like my little cousin…she’s three.”

“You better watch that mouth.” he hummed.

“You watch it. I can’t see my mouth.” You giggled, eagerly awaiting Chris’s reaction.

The flip was like a light switch. Your boyfriend’s mood had seemed heavy, though teasing. But now, Chris whipped around, stalking towards the bed. “What did you say?” he asked, voice dangerously low.

“I said you watch my mouth. I can’t see it.” You smiled, crossing your arms over your chest as a pout decorated your lips.

“I swear to God…” he chuckled deeply, shaking his head. “Strip. Now.”

“No.”

“You strip now or I edge that little cunt so hard you’re gonna wish you never would’ve spoken at all.” Chris stared down at you with stone cold features.

You slowly looked down at your knees, beginning to strip with a fake aire of humiliation. You were more excited to see what your punishment would be, but you knew that Chris would definitely deny your orgasm if you acted happy about it. Once you had removed all your clothes, you kneeled on the bed, pouting up at him. “This isn’t fair.”

“Sweetheart,” Chris hummed, grabbing your chin roughly. “Considering how you’ve been acting this morning, this is very fair. Now, open,” Your boyfriend gathered just enough of his own saliva to spit in your mouth, holding your chin closed once he had done so. “Let’s see if that fixes that bratty little mouth.”

You smiled as the taste of him consumed you, lighting your nerves with passion and excitement. You waited patiently to see what Chris would do, but his lack of instruction was beginning to make you nervous for what he had in store. Your boyfriend smiled sadistically, reaching into his bedside drawer and pulling out a toy you were all too familiar with. It was a small, pink vibrator that went up to settings so immense they could practically make you cum in seconds.

Chris sat down on the bed, patting his sweatpants covered lap. “On my lap.”

You blushed, crawling across the sheets and laying yourself across his lap, ass up. You felt Chris’s warm, large hands caressing your backside as they slowly made their way between your thighs, spreading your legs further and further apart. Your boyfriend chuckled as he ran a finger along your damp slit, feeling the way you were already soaking, just from the thoughts of him and what he would do to you.

The last thing you could comprehend before you were seeing stars was the sound of the toy flicking on, buzzing lightly. Chris held the vibrator against your clit as he stroked your folds, chuckling at the little squeals and whimpers that were already escaping your mouth as you buried your face in his thigh.

“Does that feel good, princess?” he cooed in an almost sickeningly sweet way as he turned the intensity up a notch. “Your pretty pussy gettin’ all wet from being punished?”

You could hardly let out anything more than a little whine, tears pricking your eyes at the overwhelming sensations from the toy and Chris’s fingers working gracefully. “Mhm…uh uh.”

“Awww, what happened to that sass, ma? Cat got your tongue?” he pouted, turning the vibrator up again as he shoved your legs further apart on his lap.

You whimpered and panted, digging your almond-shaped nails into his leg. “Oh…oh god. Chris, Chris–I need to…” You were a senseless mess as you began to sob, your thighs slick with arousal.

“You need to what? Use your words, baby doll.” Your boyfriend sneered.

“Need to cum,” You wailed, shoving your face against his leg and gripping his thigh. Your orgasm had been building in your stomach for a while now, the white-hot energy threatening to push you over the edge. “P…please.”

Chris landed a stinging smack to your ass as he edged you harder before finally speaking. “Go ahead, princess. Cum all over my lap and show me how much you appreciate me treating you like the whore you are.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You immediately let go, your climax washing over you as you came all over the vibrator and Chris’s fingers. Fat tears rolled down your face, simply from feeling soi overstimulated, yet so good. Your boyfriend rubbed your back gently, dropping his rough dom façade as he coached you through your high. Once you had caught your breath, Chris flipped you over so that you were laying on your back on his lap, looking up at him.

“You’re going again,” he smiled, almost sadistically. “Gotta make sure that little attitude is properly fucked out.”

Chris tossed you onto the bed roughly, before leaning over and grabbing a condom from his nightstand. In a quick amount of time, he had yanked off his sweatpants and hoodie and rolled the condom onto his throbbing cock. You smiled up at him with doe eyes, wanting to comment, but choosing your physical pleasure over the pleasure of mouthing off.

“You ready, ma?” he asked, lining himself up with you.

You didn’t get another chance to speak as he slammed into you immediately, filling you completely. You let out a moan at the feeling of suddenly being full, Chris stretching you to the max. Just like when he had been using the toy on you, your boyfriend was fucking rough. He bucked his hips into you, going harder with each thrust as he pinned your arms to the bed. You were always more sensitive on your second orgasm than on your first, and your stomach was already clenching with the need for release.

“Gonna…” You whimpered. “Need to cum again.”

Chris ignored you, pounding into you relentlessly. If your head wasn’t hazy with lust, you’d be thanking the universe that Nick was a heavy sleeper and Matt slept with ear plugs, because the sound of the headboard hitting the wall was ricocheting through the room. You could tell that your boyfriend was getting closer to his own climax as he threw his head back with a groan, riding you mercilessly. This was by far one of the best punishments he had ever given you, making you so dizzy with arousal that you couldn’t even think straight to brat.

“Oh god, baby,” Chris groaned, throwing his head back as he came, filling the condom. “You feel so fucking good.”

You whined and writhed beneath him, arching your back as your lower stomach ached with the need to cum. The feeling of Chris being buried fully inside of you wasn’t helping, either. “Need to cum, please.” You whimpered, on the verge of tears again from the good feelings.

Chris adjusted himself, still fucking you despite having already came. “Say ‘I’m a little cockslut who can’t control her mouth’ and then maybe I’ll let you.” he shrugged.

You sobbed, fighting the urge to just release. “I–I’m a little…Chris, please.”

“Gotta hear you say the full thing, ma.” he chuckled, riding you in a slower, more sensual rhythm, which just increased the tingling in your nerves.

“I’m a little cockslut who can’t control her mouth.” You wailed.

“Good girl.” Chris kissed your forehead as you came, your body writhing with the intensity of your climax.

You were beyond fucked out by the time Chris pulled out, tying the condom up and throwing it away. Your boyfriend grabbed a tissue from the nightstand, using it to dry your tears as you caught your breath. The rough dom he had been for the scene had completely disappeared, replacing him with the loving, gentle boyfriend he always was. Chris dried your tears, handing you a water bottle.

“You did so good.” he whispered gently, caressing your cheek as he held the bottle to your lips.

You smiled softly, eyes glazed over. “I promise I won’t mouth off anymore.”

“I doubt that’s a promise you can keep, baby girl.” Chirs chuckled, massaging over your shoulders and back lightly with a sweet-smelling lotion.

You pulled him into you as your boyfriend pulled the comforter over your naked bodies. “Mhm. ‘M really tired.”

“You need to rest, ma,” Chris kissed your cheek, pulling you into his body to spoon. “Being a little brat is hard work, huh?”

You nodded with a gentle giggle. “I love you.”

“I love you more, ma. I can promise you that.”

“That prank was hilarious, though.”

“Don’t push your limits, princess.” Chris hummed.

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rafeandonlyrafe · 2 months

Text

your duke

words: 4.7k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, mentions of having children, duke!rafe, 1800S au, royalty au, probably a lot of incorrect era things but idk! bear with me yall, maid!reader, implication of noncon but it is not actually described, r*pe aftermath, poisioning/murder, assassination plot, kinda angsty but happy ending, slowburn ish? i fell in love the way you fell asleep, slowly and then all at once

you are humming to yourself as you wipe down the surfaces off the room, collecting the nonexistent dust on your rag before turning your attention towards the bath, filling it with hot water, anticipating the dukes return.

you move onto the bed next, filled with extravagant silks and embroidered blankets. you make it perfectly, erasing any evidence that it was slept in only for the duke to create a mess when he comes back to his chambers.

you know you should feel lucky, getting to work in the palace with one of the kings closest friend and advisor, but it's tedious maid work, barely worth the couple gold coins you get at the end of every day.

you don't realize that the duke has entered until the door slams shut behind him, making you jump up, eyes wide as you turn and give him a quick bow, keeping your head down.

“good evening, duke cameron.”

“evening.” he addresses you back after a moment, allowing you to rise. you have to hold in a gasp, you always forget how beautiful the duke is.

“i filled the bath for you, sir.” you gesture your arm towards the bathroom. “i will take your garments for cleaning once you ready.”

“thank you, y/n.” the duke says, making your eyebrows rise. you have only been working for a couple weeks, and only recently got reassigned to the dukes room. you introduced yourself only once, and certainly expected him to instantly forget your name.

you watch as he goes behind the thick curtain into the bath, entering only when you hear him sink into the warm water with a satisfied groan.

you keep your eyes on the floor as you step around the corner just long enough to grab the clothing off the floor before fleeing with a bow to clean them.

you head to the lower levels of the palace, smiling at the other help that you see as you head towards the laundry room, quickly cleaning his clothes before hanging them on a line meant specifically for the duke.

“on your way back up to duke camerons?” the voice makes your back snap straight, turning to look at mrs. peregrine, her name living up to her hawkish features, a stern old woman but one to be admired for running the entirety of the background of the palace, coordinating maids and assistants, even running the kitchen with an iron fist.

“yes ma’am.” you nod.

“the king has requested that he receives a personal assistant.” she says, looking you up and down with a disapproving look in her brown eyes, so dark they almost appear black.

you wait patiently before she sighs. “my goodness girl, im offering you a promotion.”

“oh!” you raise your eyebrows, not expecting to move through the ranks so quickly. “yes, ma’am… what does being a personal assistant include?”

“you will bring up his meals, take requests and fill whatever he needs and… keep him satisfied.” you immediately understand the implication there, letting out a quick nod. she almost looks sad for a brief second before her features harden again. “get his dinner tray from the kitchen and bring it up immediately.”

you rush to the kitchen, grabbing the tray indicated for the duke. you hurry up the stairs, but are careful not to spill the plates loaded on the silver platter.

“dinner, sir.” you call with a knock, glad when instead of telling you to come inside that duke cameron opens the door for you. you set the tray down at his dining table. you wonder what the palace chambers of the king are like when a dukes looks like this.

“are you my assistant then y/n?” rafe asks, sitting down as you stand at the other side of the table, hands clasped together, waiting, but you're not sure what.

“yes sir.” you nod quickly. “anything you wish i am… here to serve.”

“are you hungry?” he asks, making you scrunch your brows together.

“what?” you know you shouldn't question what the duke says, but you surely must have heard him wrong.

“are you hungry? the kitchen always gives me more than i could ever eat.”

“oh- i- i am fine, sir. thank you.” you say, but your traitorous eyes betray you as you look at the food, bread smothered with butter, steak dripping with juice.

“no more with the sir, please.” he waves his hand. “makes me feel like my father. just call me rafe.”

you let a light laugh slip. duke cameron-rafe is remarkably young to have risen to the ranks so quickly. some even believe he is who the king will appoint if he doesn't produce an heir.

“and come sit down.” rafe kicks out the chair next to you. you step closer, easing yourself down into the wooden chair.

rafe takes one of the plates and loads a few things on it before setting it in front of you with one simple word. “eat.”

you're not going to argue with duke, and the meal is no doubt the most extravagant that you're ever going to get to taste, so you begin to eat, eyes widening when you taste the warm bread, so unlike the old stale loaf you get for cheap from the market.

rafe looks satisfied when your finished, pushing his cup of wine towards you to finish off.

“thank you, s-rafe.” you both smile.

“it's my pleasure.” rafe says, standing up and moving to flop down on his bed, placing his hand on his stomach. “so much good food.”

you bite your tongue, resisting the urge to say that there are people right outside the palace walls starving.

you quickly collect all of the silverware before placing the serving tray outside of the door to take back down to the kitchen later. maybe you'd even be able to sneak some more food now that you have access.

“what else can i do for you, sir?” you ask, looking out the window as the sky darkens. you wonder when you'll be dismissed now that you're an assistant to a duke, not just a lowly maid.

“come here.” he calls, eyes now closed as he lays on the bed.

you move quickly, putting your shame to the side. you know what is being requested of you now as you step to the edge of the bed, looking down rafes body until you are staring at his crotch. your hands reach cautiously until you cant wait any longer, grabbing the hem of his pants.

the dukes eyes pop open, pushing your fingers away. “what are you doing?”

“i-i am so sorry, sir!” you take a step back before sinking to your knees, bending your head down. “i thought you wanted to receive your… your nightly pleasures.”

you keep your eyes trained on the plush rug, but you can hear that rafe has moved to stand directly in front of you.

“you are not a whore.” his words are harsh for a moment, but then he kneels down next to you, his fingers touching under your chin and forcing you to look up at him. “i do not expect you to do anything for me that you do not want to.”

“sir, it's included in being your assistant.” you explain.

“i will not ask you to do anything lewd, understood?” he asks, holding your eye until you nod.

“you… you are a good man.” you say, letting him take your hand to help you stand, your dress falling back around your ankles.

“if only.” he looks into the distance for a moment before shaking his head. “you're dismissed.”

“yes sir.” you lower your head, rushing out of the room.

-- two weeks later --

“would you ask the kitchen for chicken today?” the duke asks as you adjust his outfit, quickly learning his tastes as you fold his collar down.

“roasted?” you question, smiling when rafe shakes his head.

“and make sure you tell them i want lunch too.” you know exactly what the duke means. he will no doubt be eating with the king, but he wants you to get food from the kitchen for yourself. you would refuse, but it gives you something to do as you wait around in his chambers, waiting to be called on.

“yes, sir.” you nod before leading him to the door, opening up the door with a bow as he goes to yet another meeting. he seems to always be involved. you don't know his personal politics, but from the way he treats you, you're sure he must be a good man.

you spend some time cleaning as you wait for rafe to return, as well as getting lunch and wandering the hallways, seeing how far you can go without seeing anyone.

you are relieved when time rolls around for you to draw a bath for the duke, excited to see him.

the door opens as you turn with a smile. “good evening, rafe. how was your day?”

“busy.” he admits with a sigh. you can tell he looks tired. “is the bath ready?”

“yes, sir.” you say, not able to always resist the formalities.

rafe nods, walking past you but not before laying a hand on your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze as a thank you, like he is too tired to even say the words.

you wait to hear the water before stepping in to get his clothes.

“y/n.” rafe says.

“yes sir?” you ask, keeping your eyes cast downward.

“would you… would you massage my shoulders and head? please.”

“of course.” you drag a stool towards the edge of the bath, glad to see the water is still steaming, no doubt relaxing rafe. you keep your eyes firmly away from lower down his body as you rub over his scalp and shoulders, working out the kinks in his neck.

you're almost sure that rafe has fallen asleep as you continue to massage, unable to resist as you lean in and take a small inhale, smelling his unique scent that is near intoxicating. you wish his room smelled more of him and less like you, it seems like he never gets to relax unless it's to sleep.

“why are you always so busy, sir?” you ask seriously. “the other dukes spend half the nights on the town and the other half at their summer houses. you work yourself to death.”

“for good reason.” he simply says. you sigh, you're not going to get anymore than that.

-- three months later --

“would you go to albion with me?” the duke asks, your eyes widening as you almost choke on the perfectly buttered biscuit you have in your mouth.

“of course!” you nod. “ive never left the city before.” you long to see the countryside, and even if you are going as an assistant, you would never turn down the opportunity.

“never?” he raises an eyebrow. “not even as a child?”

“no.” you shake your head. “i had to work ever since i was a young girl.”

“it's a shame.” the duke says. “you aren't like the others…”

“what do you mean?” you question, taking a timid bite of the roast chicken.

“like the people i see sleeping on the streets. you have manners, you work hard… you're beautiful.”

you can feel your cheeks blush bright red. “why thank you.”

“this is when you pay me a compliment back.” he smirks, using the charm he is so well known for.

“you are… very handsome.” you say before taking a quick sip of wine.

“come on, anything specific?”

you know exactly what you are going to say. “your eyes.” you quickly attest. “they're… they're enchanting. i imagine they are what the sea looks like.”

the duke smiles, blue eyes sparkling like the sun reflecting off the waves, and you swear you could melt right there in your seat.

-- one week later --

“is this your first time in a carriage?” the duke asks as the coachman reaches his hand out to help you into the small enclosed area.

“yes.” you nod, taking in the plush seats before sitting down, rafe sitting across from you.

“im glad i get to show you this then.” rafe says with a light smile, opening up the windows to allow you to look out as the horse begins to clop through the city streets.

you watch with excitement as the cobblestone roads turn to dirt and stone paths, brick buildings being replaced by rolling hills, crops, and distant farmhouses.

you chat with the duke throughout your travels, his smile growing whenever you point out something out of the window, loving your excitement when you come across a heard of cows, or cross over a wooden bridge.

“i want to show you everything.” rafe mumbles unders his breath, realizing in that moment how deep he is in.

its only a few more hours before you arrive at albion. your duties are much the same when at the kings palace, retreating quickly to make the dukes room just as he pleases, even adjusting the pillows to how you always find them in the morning.

you explore the help areas of the albion manor, glancing into the various rooms as you learn the layout, since the duke does intend to stay for two nights.

“exploring, are we?” rafes voice makes you jump as you turn suddenly.

“please excuse me.” you bow down when you realize duke cameron is with the duke of albion.

“is this your wife, duke cameron?” he asks, looking over you and your curtsey.

“why, no.” you can tell from rafes voice that he is delighted by the question. “though you would never guess it, she is my maid.”

“such a gorgeous maid.” you can hear them step closer, but you keep your head turned down until the duke of albion clears his throat and you stand.

you can see that rafes face has changed from a smile to cautious displeasure as the duke looks you up and down, a jeer taking over his face.

“she is a wonderful maid. a great conversationalist, too. she rode the entire way in my carriage and i was not once bored.”

“can she dance?” the duke of albion asks.

“ask the lady yourself.” rafe turns to look at you, nodding encouragingly.

“i have not danced since i was a child.” you say, keeping your voice quiet and soft. you know that there are dukes out there sick on power, and you're not sure the duke of albion is one of the good ones like your duke cameron.

“well, we must change that, shouldn't we duke cameron?” he turns to look at rafe, who nods. “invite her to the ball tomorrow night.” it's all he has to say before walking away. you let out a breath of relief once he turns down a hallway.

“you don't have to go to the ball if you don't want to.” rafe says as you begin to walk towards his room. you stay a step behind him like a proper maid. “i will make up an excuse for you if you wish, but…” rafe pushes the door open, allowing you to enter the chambers first. “if you want to don a pretty dress and arrive on my arm, i will not deny you the chance.”

“i would love to. as long as i only have to dance with you.” you can't imagine being passed off to random men.

your duke smiles at you before nodding, setting down at the dining table, where food must have been recently delivered as he portions some out for you.

“where are you to sleep?” he asks as you begin to eat.

“i visited the helps chambers already, i will sleep in a cot there.”

rafe frowns. “a cot? that is unacceptable.”

“it's just as nice as the one i have at home.” you admit with a casual shrug.

“you do not own a bed in your house?” rafe questions. he's never thought too much about your living situation before.

“i rent a room.” you say simply. “i don't even have a house or a whole apartment to myself.”

rafe is quiet until you're both done eating, seemingly deep in thought.

“you are sleeping in the bed tonight and i shall sleep on the settee. and we shall find new living arrangements for you when we return to the palace.”

“sir-”

“there will be no arguments.” he says, with a tone of authority you've never heard before. your mouth zips shut.

“im afraid im going to be sick.” you press your hand to the front of your dress, a soft pink fabric that must be more than your entire yearly salary for just have the material of the gown.

the duke of albion sent a few different options. they're clearly old dresses from maybe his wife or other manor women. you even made an attempt to do your hair rather than just pull it back into a bun or braid like you often do.

“you look beautiful.” rafe squeezes your hand. “and you have nothing to be nervous about. i will not leave your side.”

rafe waits for you to nod before stepping through the doors. he would turn back and take you back to his chambers if you were truly too nervous, social consequences be damned. rafe couldn't care less about his place in society, not when he knows he's been written into the kings will to take over the crown if he doesn't produce an heir with his wife before his death.

you're glad people are paying more attention to rafe than the women on his arm as he leads you around the room, greeting people and introducing you simply as lady y/n, not mentioning that you are his maid and assistant.

you watch a few dances with fascination, the twirling skirts of the women far more appealing then the men.

“want to try the dance floor?” he asks, squeezing your hand gently.

“yes.” you say honestly. you weren't sure, but to look into rafes eyes while the band plays is too tempting.

rafe leads you towards the center of the room, thankful the dance has already been done once, as you mostly remember the moves as he leads you through it, a wide smile on your face.

-- one week later --

“is everything moved?” rafe asks as he enters the room, eyes widening when he realizes it's been completely stripped, even the curtain separating the living area and bathroom has been taken down.

“yes.” you nod. “mrs. peregrine said there is no one else moving into this room, so.” you shrug. you feel a little sad about leaving the chambers that you've grown so close to rafe in, but he himself requested a bigger chamber. he must not ask for much, because the king quickly accepted his request.

two beds. you walk up one more flight of stairs to the newer bedrooms, family chambers for those who live inside the palace with their children, or for those who will have their maid live with them like rafe.

“no more cots for you.” rafe says as you enter the room. you can't help yourself, tearing up when you see your bed. yours.

“good tears?” rafe confirms before pulling you in for a hug. the touching may be frowned on by society, but you find comfort and familiarity in his hold, having grown so close over the past months.

you are humming softly with a smile on your face as you bring down rafes laundry, the last task for the night before also retreating to your bedroom.

“y/n.” mrs peregrine says, her hawk eyes landing on you and the bundle of clothing in your arms.

“yes ma’am?”

“the king has requested a new maid for the night. he wants someone young. go.”

it takes a second for her words to process before you realize what she's asking for.

“i-”

“you can go back to duke cameron in the morning, he wants someone new for the night. go. now.”

you drop the laundry, considering running. either out of the palace or back to rafe, but mrs. peregrine follows behind you like she can read your thoughts until you're standing in front of the door to the kings chambers. you can hear lewd noises from behind the carved wood, the golden handle gleaming.

mrs. peregrine grabs and turns it before pushing you in.

“ah, a new one!” the king grunts, a mess of bare skin taking up the massive bed. “get over here!”

“where were you?” rafe asks, grasping your shoulders the second you enter the chambers, the morning sun not even rising yet, having fled the second the kings head hit the pillow.

you open your mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a loud sob as you lean forward, burying your face into his chest.

“shh, shh.” rafe wraps his arms around you, letting you cry into his chest as his hand strokes gently up and down your back. “i got you. you're okay.”

he leads you over towards the beds, bypassing your own and taking you to sit on his, arms still holding you comfortingly.

“i-i had to go to the kings chambers.” you swallow thickly, glad you don't have to explain any more as rafes face turns to one of anger.

“the king disrespected you. he disrespected me. and he disrespected his wife. something will be done about it.”

you're not sure what your duke has planned, but you trust him.

rafe watches with anticipation. he planned to wait another couple months, to build up the tolerance of the kings food taster to the poison he's been slipping in, but after what you were subjected to, he will wait no longer.

every meal the taster ate outside of testing the kings food has had slowly increasing amounts of poison in it. he hadn't quite reached lethal yet, but rafe hopes he will at least last long enough for the king to eat before showing any signs of sickness.

rafe watches with anticipation, barely touching his own food as the taster tries everything. a bite of mashed potatoes, of chicken, and so on before nodding and passing the plate to the king.

he's too cocky for his own good, not even waiting for a minute to see if the taster has a bad reaction before eating, sure that he was too untouchable.

rafe hides his smile when the kings face turns pale, sputtering before falling face forward into the mashed potatoes, knocked out dead.

the palace is in an uproar. you were waiting for rafe to return to the chambers from his dinner with the king and other dukes when someone bursts in.

“the king is dead. duke cameron is now the king. come now.”

you hesitate before they rush out of the room. your feet move before your mind does, rushing after what you must assume is an advisor.

you hear loud crying, desperately sad, heartbreaking screams as you're lead to the kings chambers. your eyes widen when you see the former queen being dragged out, mourning with loud sobs the loss of her husband and title.

“king cameron is waiting for you inside.”

you walk in, surprised when the door swing shuts behind you. you look around the grand space, not having truly taken it in the time the king had you brought in.

“rafe-” you run to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. he's stood near where the bed used to be. it must have been his first order, to have the very bed you were disrespected in taken out of the chambers. you hope it gets burned.

“i did it for you. for us.” rafe holds you close as it sinks in. rafe killed the king.

“i want you to be my queen.” rafe pulls away to look you in the eye. “i want you to be my wife.”

“i-”

“the former queen is pregnant. hopefully with a boy. we will rule until he is 13 then vacate the throne. we can go to the countryside, i can give you the life you deserve-”

you cut rafe off by pressing your lips against his. he hesitates for a split second before kissing back, holding you even tighter to him.

“id be honored to be your wife.” you whisper against his lips. “i love you.”

“i love you so much.” rafes tongue slips into your mouth, distracting you from thinking too hard as he kisses you, your bodies turning warm as he leads you towards the couch, laying you down on your back as he hovers over you, not allowing your lips to seperate.

“we will…” rafe gasps out, pausing his words to kiss you again. “we will rule. we will amass wealth. we will retire with our money to the countryside.” rafe squeezes your waist. “we will have as many children as you want. none, if you want. anything for you, my soon to be queen.”

“i never thought id be able to have kids.” you sniffle. “you've given me so much.”

you reach up to take rafes face in your hands, rubbing your thumbs over his cheeks before pulling him down for a kiss.

“i love you.” you kiss him over and over. “i want you.”

“now?” rafe looks down at you. “are you sure?”

“yes, please.” you kiss him again. “replace my bad memories with a good one.”

rafe moves slowly, carefully undoing your dress until you're in just your underclothes. he continues to kiss you before turning the attention to himself, taking off his layers until he's in just underpants.

you run your hands up and down over his chest, lifting your hips as he tugs your final layer off.

rafe pulls away from the kiss to look down at your body. a smile spreads over his face before slinking down the couch he grasps your chest in his hands, cupping your breasts.

“i should have had them bring in a new bed first.” he chuckles, pressing his hips down into your thigh, allowing you to feel his length through his underpants.

“i need you now. please.” you whimper out. rafe smiles, unable to keep the grin off his face since his plan succeeded and he finally admitted his feelings to you.

“you never have to beg me for anything, my queen.” rafe says, pulling his final layer off. “you're never going to go without ever again.”

you feel tears well in your eyes as rafe lines himself up with your entrance, sinking deep into you as you both moan out.

“i love you.” you whisper again, needing to tell him as many times as you possibly can.

rafe presses his lips over each over your eyelids, kissing away your tears.

-- 14 years later --

“it's everything i imagined and more.” you smile to your husband, having just returned from the tour of the vast gardens.

“nothing but the best for you, my love.” rafe spent years looking for the perfect retirement property as the new king grew up until he was of age to take over the title.

you push the hair back out of rafes face, admiring his features. there's a few increased lines on his face from the age and the stress of the crown, but the twinkle in his eye is all the same.

“i was thinking once we settle down here i will take you on a vacation to see the ocean. then we can get started on making those babies i promised you.”

“why not start now?” you smile, turning towards your bedroom as rafe quickly follows behind, the halls filling with warm laughter, much to the staffs relief, glad to have a happy couple as the new duke and duchess.

rafe closes and locks the bedroom door behind you, the curtains and windows open, letting in the clean country air, so different from the city that you've finally escaped.

“how many babies do you want?” rafe asks, pushing up the bottom of your linen dress up to reveal that you aren't wearing anything underneath, much to rafes appreciation.

“hmm.” you hum out as rafe tugs his pants down. “two boys, two girls?”

“i like the way you think.” rafe smiles, pressing a kiss your lips. “my queen. you'll always-” another kiss. “be my queen.”

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gojhoes · 4 months

Text

my good neighbor

synopsis: You've lived next door to Geto for nearly a year, yet your neighbor remains all but a mystery. But as for you- he knows everything about you, from the shampoo you use to the books you keep by your bed.

warnings: MDNI 18+, NSFW contents: geto x fem!reader, yan(?)!geto, age gap, breeding, masturbation, no curse au, dubcon(?), somno, p-in-v wc: 6.3k

It all starts when an Amazon package with your name on it somehow ended up in Geto's mailbox. He would later refer to this occurrence as his greatest gift from God; the most blessed twist of fate to ever work in his favor.

A pink cardboard box sits on his counter, jarringly bright in comparison to the deep neutral design of his apartment. If the package's appearance wasn't proof enough, printed on top is an address nearly identical to his own, except his is 3-D, not 3-C. Clearly, it belongs to the tenant to his right- an easy mistake to be made by someone who reads hundreds of names and address every day.

Geto knows that he could march back down to the mail room and leave the package in the correct mailbox. He could walk away without another thought but given that the box is this specific shade of pink, he figures it might be something you're really excited for. You're probably wondering about it right now, peering confusedly at the 'Delivered' notification from your email. Besides, you both live on the third floor, so he'd be saving you an extra trip. He's just being a good neighbor.

But then he starts to think- he recognizes this shade of pink. His ex-girlfriend had once received a very similarly shaped package in the same color. Inside that package had been a vibrator that he'd grown quite familiar with over the course of their relationship. Could it be the same thing boxed up right here addressed to you?

Your door is cracked when steps out of his apartment with the package in his hand. From this angle, all he can see is the door to the coat closet directly to the right of the entrance. In his apartment, the same closet is on the left, confirming his suspicions that your bedrooms do, in fact, share a wall.

It also meant that your living rooms were connected, but Geto was already well aware of that. Yours seemed to be the gathering place for all of your friends and given the amount of chatter that trickled through the wall every evening, you had quite a few of them. Not that he minds- he works nights as a pharmaceutical lab tech, so it's not like he's there when you're having your get-togethers.

It was less bothersome during the week than on the weekend, which was when you hosted your entire gaggle of acquaintances for what sounded like game night. He was still working out the details of all the different voices, but over time, he'd developed the ability to recognize certain voices by the pitch and cadence of their speech.

It hadn't been on purpose, but the walls were stupidly thin, hardly a step up from a curtain. It was impossible not to eavesdrop, especially when the voices dwindled to only yours and another that was undeniably male. Geto'd glue himself to the wall trying to hear what the two of you were getting up to, but it seemed you weren't that kind of girl.

Or maybe Geto was assuming incorrectly that there was any type of romance going on. But for the last several weekends, he would hear the two of you chatting, then it would be quiet for a bit, as if you were pausing the conversation to make out. He has not, however, heard any sounds of pleasure from your side of the wall, and that alone has piqued his curiosity.

However, during the day, your side of the wall typically was quiet. Just as he would be getting out of the shower in preparation for bed, he'd hear your alarm blaring right at 7am. If it was loud to him, he could only imagine how your ears still functioned properly after such repetitive torture. He'd hear you getting ready through the walls and smell the coffee you brew while you take a shower. By eight o'clock, there is a jingle of keys followed by hours of silence, and he sleeps just fine.

It had to have been nine months or so since you'd moved in, yet Geto hasn't laid eyes on you even once. Your apparent opposite schedules have managed to keep the two of you from crossing paths despite living just inches from each other.

As he stands between your neighboring doorframes, he thinks about how strange it feels to know someone's daily routine despite never having glimpsed you. Based off your schedule and the lively nature of your social life, he's deduced that you must be an undergraduate student at the nearby university. He himself had graduated the semester before, but the rent was cheap and moving was too much of a hassle.

But what were you, 19? 20? With your own apartment, an 8-3 schedule, and enough time to hang out with your friends nearly every day? He couldn't be sure of your age, not without seeing you, but your behaviors made him sure that you were young.

Geto glances down at the box again, reading your name aloud to test the sound of it on his tongue. He eyes the opening of your door again, craning his neck to see what else might be behind it, but no dice. Maybe if he should just go in and leave it on the counter. He would get to see your place and hopefully satiate this prolonged curiosity, even for just a moment.

Besides, you've left your door cracked. Every front door in the building locks automatically when closed, so technically, it would be your fault if this was a robbery situation, regardless of the value of your things. It's too tempting- he's been too intrigued by the box clutched in his hand. It was fate for the two of you to meet this way. Every time you held it to your clit as you came, you'd think of the moment you saw him with the box in his hand at your door.

His hand hovers over the doorknob- is he really about to do this? Wherever you've gone, you'll likely be back any minute if you've been so careless about your door. No, it's not the right time. He's already nervous about how you will react, even more so knowing he's going to be seeing you for the first time.

You know when someone just sounds hot? The music your body makes is so human, yet so graceful and controlled until your friends come over. You sound perfect when you're just simply existing by yourself. He feels, in so many ways, that he knows you so well already. It wouldn't take him any time at all to learn how to give you what you want. Maybe he'll tell you that, if the moment presents itself.

He's fortunate yet again for the lack of insulation used by the contractors. There is a rushed set of footsteps echoing from the stairwell at the end of hall, giving him enough warning to take a step back until he's standing just the perfect distance between your two neighboring doors. He looks up as the footsteps close in, and his heart skips a beat when he finally, finally sees you.

"Hi!" you chirp. "You must be my neighbor."

The last few steps you take give him enough time to drink you in. You can't be older than 20 with plush lips and a pretty smile, one that lights up your face and showcases your lack of smile lines. And what you're wearing makes his mouth go dry. It's a baby blue pajama set with thin straps and the shortest goddamn shorts Geto has ever seen in his life. He's staring, he knows he is, but you're even more gorgeous than he could've imagined. Your hand shoots out to shake his, small and soft enveloped within his grasp for just a wink of time.

It's not enough, not even close to satisfying the desire you've instilled in him. He forces himself to look at your face and not at the tops of your tits threatening to spill out of that useless pajama top. God, and he can see your nipples straining against the thin fabric-

"I believe this belongs to you," he says, holding out the pink box.

Your face lights up impossibly as you pull it into your hands, and Geto thinks he might die right there. He smiles at your excitement; he was right- you were excited to get this. God, he would be so good to you if you'd let him.

"Oh, thank you!" you say enthusiastically. "I've had a lot of packages go missing lately, so it's really nice to actually get this one. Thank you so much."

You're practically worshipping him with the sinful sweetness dripping from your words. So well-mannered. Would you be this polite if he brought you into his bed and offered to give you his cock? Would you smile at him as you are now, and say please every time you ask him to fuck you? He'd do it for you- he'd give you everything simply just for being such a sweet girl for him.

Geto smiles and introduces himself. "It seemed like a pretty important package."

He catches the way your shoulders tense and the slight flush of your cheeks- shit, was it actually a vibrator in there? Clearly, you're embarrassed, so it would make sense, but there's no need to be ashamed of getting one.

But you're smiling sweetly again, any trace of worry wiped clean. "It's nice to finally meet you, Geto," you say, and he swears that he sees your eyes flick down to his lips.

He hums, tilting his head to side as if to study you. "Likewise."

You send him one more polite smile before disappearing into your apartment. As he's closing his own door, he's imagining you making a cup of coffee like you do every morning. Are all of your pajamas that pretty? He's met you once, but already he can tell that you're a princess. He bets your parents pay your rent and send you money for groceries anytime you ask. A girl as sweet as you was probably well-accustomed such doting and pampering.

Someone was taking care of you, but were they making sure you were safe? Who was reminding you to keep your doors locked? You were a young pretty girl living on your own in the city- anything can happen. Clearly it seems that you need someone to look out for you, and who could possibly be better for the job than him? He lived so close by already; checking on you would be no problem at all.

And after seeing your perfect thighs in your little shorts, the swell of your breasts straining against the blue fabric...he'll do anything if it means he might get to see that again. He'd come up to you from behind and wrap his arms around your waist, pulling your ass against his hips. One hand holding your chin as he kisses the side of your neck, squeezing your thigh with the other...

You need him. Someone older and more mature to nurture you properly. Besides, he was just being a good neighbor.

That evening, he rearranges his room so that the head of his bed is flush against the innermost wall of his apartment, the one that he shares with you.

*** Geto will admit that somewhere deep inside, he does feel guilty. This part of him is disgusted and ashamed, constantly wishing he could be different and cursing himself because he's not. But he was going to make you love him. Once you let him in, you'll wonder why you hadn't come to him sooner. You'll see- he'll prove it to you, and then you'll understand that everything he does is for you.

But the rest of him, the more dominant parts of his personality, run rampant once he's fallen for you. He isn't acting right, deep down he knows that, but he can't stop. He doesn't want to stop. He wants to know every secret you might be hiding. The home a person keeps says so much about them, and he wants to know everything. You won't have to hide from him, not ever, and he'll make sure you know that. Maybe he's obsessed, but can you blame him? You're just so perfect.

He's starving for you, but he's got to be subtle; if he's too forward, he risks upsetting you or scaring you away. He doesn't want to stress you out, either, but it's essential that he sees your apartment. He needs to check your locks, especially the one on your balcony and make sure that you're keeping up with your cleaning.

It means taking advantage of the several minutes you leave your door cracked when you've gone down to the basement to do your laundry. Every Saturday afternoon, before your friends come and steal you away, you gather your basket and leave your deadbolt extended to avoid locking yourself out.

He's managed to pull it off twice, the first time being harder than the second. It took him three days to work up the courage to even try thinking of a plan, but after moving his bed to the wall, closer to you, he's descended quickly into absolute agony. It's a stroke of luck- no, of fate- that has made you put your bed against the same wall- and he can hear everything.

A few days have passed since the package mishap, and by that point, Geto had almost forgotten about the contents of the box. That night, just as he's getting ready for a shift at the lab, he hears a strange buzzing as he's brushing his teeth. It's an electric toothbrush, so his first thought is that maybe it's time to replace it. But as he rinses out his mouth, he finds that the buzzing had not ceased. It's go to be you, he thinks, immediately drying his face and flying over to the wall to press his ear flush to it. He's just in time to hear the beautiful, merciful sound of a mewl escaping from your lungs.

A shaky breath passes his lips. He's dumbfounded by the pleasure that flows through his abdomen when he realizes what you're doing. He'd totally been right about the package. Even through the wall, he's able to recognize the same vibrations. Maybe he's just been Pavlov'd, but immediately he can feel the blood rushing south as a faint throb starts in his cock.

He knows without a doubt that you've got the cutest pout on your lips, maybe a few strands of hair falling into your face as you lay your head back. "Feels good," he whispers, despite knowing that you can't hear him. Do your hips buck up into your hands, or do have those plush thighs squeezing them tight while you try to cum?

Is this really happening right now? Heat creeps up his neck and high on his cheeks as another moan, albeit quieter this time, blesses his ears. He can't stop his hand from finding his cock and palming at himself as he eyes slip shut.

He's dying to know- he wants to see you right now, wants to watch as you spread apart your folds and fuck yourself until you're trembling. He needs more, he needs everything that you can give him- and you will give him all that you can. He knows you will because you're just that good of a girl.

Fuck. He's got to get to work on time before the cultures expire and he fucks up three weeks' worth of data, but you are killing him with each sweet little moan that leaves your mouth. He's picturing you on your knees with your ass in the air, two fingers pumping in and out of your tight cunt while your other hand has a death grip on the vibrator.

He's waited so long to hear your pathetic little whines as you fuck yourself as fast you can on your too-short fingers. You're so desperate, and with how hard you're trying, it's obvious that you're getting frustrated. He wants to help you- it's clear from your desperate cries that you need him to. He would help you cum, over and over if that's what you wanted. "It's okay," he breathes. "Keeping going, it's okay."

Using a vibrator for the first time can feel almost painful if you're not used to the intensity. You're so overstimulated that you're struggling to reach the orgasm you chase so desperately. He feels genuine pity for you as cry out, "please! so close...mm." If you'd just asked him, he would've been able to introduce it your sensitive clit the right way.

He's begging you more, anything you could give him. He knows you'll do it for him soon. You were just that good of a girl, and maybe you were too sensitive to cum without a little bit of a help. If he was inside you, you'd have creamed all over his cock by now, too fucked out to ride him anymore as he pounds into your pretty pussy from behind.

As much as he would love to see you beg for it, he truly thought that you deserved to cum and felt frustrated for you. You were such a sweet girl; the only reason it took you so long to try your new toy had to be because you were nervous. Good girls deserve the best orgasms, after all.

Shit, were you still a virgin? Did you even know how to make yourself cum yet? That would explain why he hadn't ever heard those pretty sounds before. Fuck, you were going to make him lose his goddamn mind if you didn't cum in the next 60 seconds. "Y-you'll cum for me, right? I know you can do it."

Geto did not make it to work on time that day, quintessentially ruining over 300 specimens all because you wanted to play with your pussy right as he had to leave for work. It was terrible timing, but he can't say he regrets bringing himself to one of the best orgasms he'd ever had without even touching you. It wasn't enough, though, just hearing you. He needs to see it, needs to feel your warm, tight cunt squeezing him dry while you moan into his ear.

A plan comes to him, albeit a risky one. The next time you leave to do your laundry, propping your door open like always, he slips into your apartment. It's an inverted copy of his own- the same appliances, same gray tiles, a balcony at the back of the living room. Your apartment is so girly, so shamelessly you, and not to mention spotless. Geto makes a poignant effort to keep his place clean, but only a control freak would keep their apartment this organized. You must be an anxious person- but that's okay, because he'll be there to help you through it.

Two minutes pass- you should be back any moment, and while he has an idea of what he'll say if you catch him, he really wants to avoid scaring you. He can't have you feeling scared around him, so he turns to leave- he can always come back another time after he's more prepared. But then he sees a set of keys lying on your counter, and the gears in his head start turning.

You've left your door open, so you'll be able to get back in- he doesn't have to worry about that. He knows you won't be leaving anytime soon. He's confident that he'll have enough time and he doubts that you'll notice your apartment key missing if you're not actively needing it. So, he pockets the whole set and slips right back out as silently as he'd come.

Early on Monday morning, Geto waits until he hears the jingle of your keys and the click of the deadbolt as it slides into place. The smell of coffee lingers, and his clock reads 8:06, but he can't risk you coming back, so he forces himself to wait a little longer. He's nearly vibrating with the anticipation of getting so much unadulterated time in your apartment. The copied key in hand is representative of everything he's done to get closer to you. This observation will help him learn who you are- what shampoo you use, what you keep on hand in your fridge, what toys you have hidden away.

He decides it's been long enough when 20 more minutes pass, and Geto makes a beeline for your bedroom. Compared to the rest of your apartment, your room is much more lived-in. The white comforter topping your bed is rumpled, exposing light pink sheets under a plethora of stuffies and pillows. He's more interested, however, in the nightstand on the side.

He pulls open the single drawer and sure enough, there's the white vibrator that you've been using quite often lately. Aside from a bottle of lube, there's nothing aside from some medications and a pair of nail clippers. His suspicion that you're a virgin persists from your lack of sex toys- no wonder you were so embarrassed when he hinted at the contents of your package. Already, he was half-hard thinking about how good he was going to make you feel. He was ecstatic to think that no one else had touched you yet. Whoever that guy was, the one you your often spent evenings with alone, wasn't going to stand a chance.

Geto steps away to make toward your bathroom, and feels something soft under his foot. He glances down and bends to retrieve the black lacy thong you've left so mercifully on the floor. It's foul, it's intrusive, it's perfect- he brings the fabric to his face and breathes in your scent. His cock throbs in his pants, begging for attention- for your attention, but he can't have you yet. No, it has to be perfect because you are perfect, and you deserve nothing less.

He shoves the thong in his pocket before going into the ensuite bathroom.

Later that week, the universe finally gives him a break.

That fateful Friday evening, he calls in sick to work. His throat is a bit sore, and he knows the ache in his muscles isn't from last night's workout, so he opts to take his temperature, which reads 38.2°C. He knocks back some cold medicine before burying himself in the blankets on his couch, dozing in and out as the effects sweep him away.

He's roused by a rap-rap-rapping on his front door, and even through his medicated haze, his heart jumps- is it you? Is he really about to get this lucky? He glances at the clock above the stove to see that it's half-past 11, and from the din coming through the wall, he knows that you've got your friends over. As he crosses to answer the door, he does feel a bit better aside from the persistent fog clouding his brain.

And it is you, dressed in a pair of jeans and a pink top that shows off your midriff. Your cheeks are painted with a light flush and your hair is bit disheveled, obviously tipsy from the way you're swaying a little. He smiles at you, drinking in the soft curves of your hips that he's been dying to dig his fingers into.

"Hey," you say. Your speech isn't quite slurred, but there's a lilt to your words that says all he needs to hear. "I'm so sorry to bother you like this, I know it's a little creepy, but-"

He doesn't mean to cut you off, but the words spill out of his mouth before he can stop them. "No, it's no trouble at all. Bother me all you want."

You're tipsy enough that the line works- you even laugh a little, and the sound makes his heart skip a beat. Every sound you make is so sweet

"Right," you say. "D'you have a wine bottle opener by chance?"

He shoots you his best disarming smile. "I do."

"Could I borrow it for a moment? I promise I'll bring it right back, I'm right next door."

He'd give you his left lung if you asked for it. He considers inviting you in, but the state of his illness deters him. All the lights are off in his apartment and he hadn't bothered to change out of his gray sweats and black sweatshirt. His hair is down, likely tangled and flat from dozing on his couch. No, you deserve to see him at his best- he'll get you to come over soon enough.

"Of course," Geto says. "Just a second."

He leaves the door cracked in the same way he's seen yours over the last month. Your fingers linger on his own when he places the wine opener in your hand. Even that slight contact sends a wave of excitement through him.

"Swear you'll come right back?" he teases, smirking a little.

You smile again, making him fall even harder when shoot him a wink before disappearing back inside of your apartment without a response. If this was your way of flirting, he's even more enamored with you. So coy, yet so sweet as you look at him over your shoulder before the door closes.

Geto goes into his kitchen to heat up a bowl of broth. Your tits sat so pretty in that little top- did you always dress like that? Not too revealing, showing off just enough to drive him mad with desire. He didn't get to see your ass, but if it was anything like he remembered, he knew that those jeans would cling to it like a film.

As he's sipping on his soup and scrolling mindlessly through his phone, there's another knock. He's on his feet and at the door in seconds, not even bothering to hesitate to swing it open so he can see you again. This time, you're holding a bottle of rose (because of course, you are) and his wine opener.

"Can you do it for me?" You're looking up at him with what he swears is a pout, and with how you bat your eyes through the question, how can he refuse? It would be criminal not to help, especially when you're asking so nicely with that cute look on your face. "None of us can get it open."

He's delighted that you've asked him. Were there no boys over there to help you? Did you choose him over them, or were you truly just too clumsy to do it yourself?

He cranes his neck to see if anyone else stands in the hall, but it seems deserted save for you, so he pushes forward. Geto does his best to seem mildly disinterested yet nice, not wanting to scare you away with the words he really wants to say. If he didn't fuck this up, maybe he wouldn't have to wait so long to get you to come back. His plan would get to move so much faster, but he had to be careful.

"I should probably do this over the sink," he says, reaching out to retrieve the bottle from your grasp. He purposefully lets his thumb brush the tip of your pinky- enough to test the waters, but not so much that it can't be played off as sheer coincidence. As he turns to go into the kitchen, he says over his shoulder, "Feel free to come in, by the way."

The suggestion is very forward considering you've said less than 20 words to the guy since moving in a year ago. Had you been of a better state of mind, you would have politely declined- you barely knew the guy even if your beds were separated only by a few inches of drywall. But you can't deny your curiosity; not once have you glimpsed what lies on his side of the wall. So you indulge yourself and step over the threshold, making sure to pull the door as you do so.

There's no way he's getting this lucky right now. All the plotting, the strategic timing of your meetings, and his careful research are finally paying off. You are walking right into his apartment without him having to lift a finger. He doesn't think you can get any more perfect- he hasn't even touched you yet, and you seem to already know what he wants. It was proof that the invisible string was real.

You stand at a safe distance on the side of the bar opposite from his, watching intently as Geto works the wine opener into the cork. There's a satisfying 'pop' as he gives it a firm tug. What would've taken you an embarrassingly long amount of time is accomplished with one quick flex of his forearm and a small grunt of effort.

"What's the occasion?" he asks.

You stare at him blankly. "Huh?"

He returns the wine opener to its rightful drawer, drawing out the motions to maximize how long he's got you in his apartment.

"It's champagne, so I figured maybe it was for something special," he explains. "Or are you just fancy like that?"

You're smiling at him again and his heart soars. He prays that you'll always look at him like that, and only him, but he gives no indication of the depth of his feelings. He wraps his hand around the neck of the now-open bottle and extends it toward you as he rounds the side of the counter.

"You could say that," you reply with a giggle. "Thank you..um, it's Geto, right?"

He nods. "Anytime. What's mine is yours."

It comes out wrong- way too intense to say if he's trying to stay above ground with you. But you don't seem to mind. If anything, the flush on your cheeks deepens as you take the bottle from him. From where he stands, he can make out a faint scar dragging across your exposed collarbone. He wonders what it might feel like to run his tongue across you delicate skin and leave marks. Would you keen into him and clutch at him as the quick, sharp pain pulls a whine out of you?

"Um, I'm sorry if I'm ever loud or anything," he says. "I work nights, so I think we have opposite schedules." A white lie, but he doesn't want you to leave yet. If he just keeps you talking, maybe he'll get the chance to ask you to hang out. He's desperate, honestly, but he tries to hide it as he stands between you and the front door.

Your face lights with a carefree wave of your hand. "Oh no, I can hardly tell you're there most of the time. I'm a super heavy sleeper, too, so don't worry about it."

He hums and shoots you a grin. "Guess I've been worried for nothing, then."

"Same to you, though," you continue. "I have people over like, all the time, I know they can get really loud."

It's awkward now, as you stand there with your eyes darting around the room and occasionally meeting his. You're nervous, he realizes, shifting your body in a way that makes your hip jut out. He doesn't want you to leave, but he's less apt to make you too uncomfortable, so he makes to walk you out.

"Thank you again," you say, smiling at him widely. He returns your thanks, and watches you disappear into your apartment once more. Already, his mind is reeling as he checks the time. Your friends should be leaving in a couple of hours- the noise usually diminishes around 2am, which will be no trouble to stay up until.

And he makes it despite taking another dose of medicine, having long since grown used to being awake during these hours. You should've have mentioned that you were a heavy sleeper, because now he has to do this.

His clock reads 3:10 when he quietly turns the lock with his copy of your key. The lights are off and it's silent, such a vast difference from the earlier commotion. He leaves his keys on the counter in case there's an unfortunate jingle when he finally enters your room.

You sleep naked- god, you make it so easy for him to love you. Your lips are parted and the passive rise and fall of your chest signals just how deeply you're sleeping.

He slides a hand between inner your thighs, unable to help himself any longer. He teases at your entrance to see how wet you are, dipping his fingertip in just far enough to get a taste of you as he brings it up to his mouth.

And fuck, his index finger slides right in and your cunt flutters around it.

But you don't stir; there's not even a hitch in your breath as he curls his finger into that spongy tissue that he's sure should've roused you. You weren't exaggerating about your being a heavy sleeper, and Geto silently sends praise to whatever gods that were helping him pull this off. However many drinks you'd had earlier were keeping you pulled under the sea of unconsciousness.

He thinks about sliding his hands under your thighs and burying his face between them, licking and sucking at your clit to properly taste you. Surely you'd have to wake up from that, but his patience is wearing thin.

He needs this- he needs you. He's so desperate to finally sink into you, to fuck you like he's been aching to for months. His hands are on the waistband of his sweats and he's pulling out his cock, the tip already weeping as he thumbs at his slit. He wraps his hand around his shaft and starts thrusting into it, finally letting himself begin to unravel as he lets out a pleasured sigh.

God, he doesn't know where to start. Your perfect tits bounce ever so slightly with every rise and fall of your chest. The collarbones he's been wanting to bite are so vulnerable and delicate, sitting right there for the taking. But he doesn't want to ruin the moment by waking you from too much stimulation. He leans over your still body, holding himself up on his palms as he glimpses your pretty face.

He feels that he might die if he doesn't fuck you right now, lining up his cock with your entrance before he buries himself inside you.

"Ohh, fuck," he breathes. So tight, so warm, so perfect- his own perfect little pussy, so much better than anything he could've imagined. He fears that he might cum right then, digging his fingers into the sheets in attempt to steady himself. Even in such a deep sleep, you're soaking his cock with each slow thrust. Are you dreaming about him fucking you right now? Is that how your slumbering brain is making sense of all the pleasure?

Once he's got some semblance of control, he rolls his hips into yours, sinking back into you until. It's too good, and he needs more, he needs to have his cock as deep as you'll take him. He moves his hands to your knees and bends your legs until your thighs are pressing against your chest. It's desperate, the way he fucks you, but somehow, you remain as still and quiet as you'd been when he first came in. Your body jostles with each thrust and he sees the tip of your tongue creeping out from between your parted lips- fucked dumb, even fast asleep.

He knows he should probably pull out, but he's too fucked out to think straight, not to mention the cold medicine running through him right now. It's not right, but with how fucking good you feel, he doesn't care. You're going to wake up with his cum dripping out of your aching cunt, wondering obliviously if your period came early. Traces of him will be all over you and he just knows you'll love the feeling. He can already tell you're going to be his little cumslut- you're too sweet to deny him such a pleasure.

His thrusts get faster until his balls are full on slapping against your ass and his muscles tense all over. You're squeezing him so fucking tight, it's a wonder he's lasted this long, especially with how needy you've made him.

An involuntary flutter of your cunt sends him over the edge. His orgasm wracks his entire body and he's trembling with each spurt of his cum that covers your gummy walls, uncaring as to what consequences might await him. He moans out your name, panting as he empties every drop into you, and you just take it so well. Just as he's about to pull out, your eyes flutter open ever so slightly.

But you're so tired- you don't even notice that it's Geto hovering over you before they slip shut again. "Mm," you murmur. "Wh-what are you..mm." The words trail off, and a moment later, your breaths are soft and even again as sleep takes you once more.

You're adorable. He slips out of you as gently as he can, he waits until he can see his cum start to trickle down to the curve of your ass. He lifts a hand to stroke your cheek and brush away the stray hairs on your face, but he doesn't want to risk waking you when you're already so sleepy. With how pliable and motionless you are, it's clear that you need your beauty sleep.

As he slips out of your apartment and back into his, he can't help but think of how lucky he is. He's so lucky- how is it that fate has blessed him so richly? He was going to make you his. You were going to get so addicted to his cock, to his scent, to his taste that you'd never dare to leave him. You'll belong to him, free for him to use and praise as he pleases. But he will always reward you for being his sweet girl.

And, he thinks, you are so so lucky to have such a good neighbor.

i felt like a mad scientist the entire time i wrote this. if you've thought about trying to write fanfic, JUST DO IT because sometimes it's really fun.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #geto suguru #suguru geto x reader #geto smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto suguru smut #somno breeding #yandere #yandere geto suguru #obsessive love #idek

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switchorionchang · 2 years

Photo

#daily outfit.#para outfit #p: after the curtain

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luvmila444 · 5 months

Text

Photo Booth - C.S

…………………………………………….. ☆ ★ ………………………………………………

Chris sturniolo x fmreader

summary: visiting the classic Photo Booth with you boyfriend chris and his brothers becomes a bit dirty while left alone in the booth together.

content warning: SMUT; dry humping; switch chris; praise kink; public (kinda?); no actual p in v

word count: 1.6k words

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

“I can’t believe you guys are back here again, what is this the fourth time now?” You ask in a joking tone looking toward the three boys in-front of you.

“Fifth,” nick corrects in his usual smart, know-it-all tone that i love so much.

“Yeah, but hey, it’s not the same as the last time because this time we have you,” Chris grinned goofily at you as he started to walk closer to you. Chris has been your boyfriend for almost four months now and you guys couldn’t be happier. You didn’t just love being around him and all his stupid statements that make no sense, or his smell of familiar cologne that lingers in the air, or the way his large hands felt caressing you back soothingly while relaxing. No, you also love being with his family and friends and fans. Everything about you guys was perfect.

Chris slowly moved around you and snakes his hands around your waist before lowering his head down onto your shoulder. You still get butterflies from these small loving actions that he does toward you, but you just can’t help it, he just brings it out in you. Chris was a real touchy person and you loved it. It made you feel so comfortable. You loved that after a passionate night of rough crazy sex, he would then take care of you and envelope you into a tranquil sensual cuddle that would quickly send you both off into a very peaceful sleep.

After a few second, which felt like a lot longer as time had always seemed to slow down when you guys were together, you suddenly remember a familiar presence in the room…

“Woah, yeah thanks for that guys, i was going for the traumatised look while i was in that booth,”matt says with an eye roll while he steps backwards and begins to rub his eyes. The boys then begin to comically argue but i soon drown it out as i look up at chris standing above me. His hair floppy and falling in-front of his face looking so soft that i could just run my hands through it or tug at at it gently.

“Yeah, well I’m gonna go freshen up and check myself before taking any photos,” nick cuts everyone off with his assertive tone before beginning to turn around and in the direction of the bathroom, “anyone else coming?’ He asks not sparing a glance to turn as he heard the family footsteps of matt and the car keys that jingled from side to send on his belt loop, doing a short quick jog behind him to get to his side.

As matt and nick exited the room. Chris quickly whirled you around, so you were now facing each other. He was taller than you but that did not stop you from still seeing and admiring every detail of his perfect face, from the smiles lines that were now forever present on his face to the slower vanishing freckles that were once dotted on his nose but only really come out when the sun hits him just right.

“I have an idea,” he grins, a grin of mischief which you can only assume with get you in trouble latter with his brothers. You tilt my head to the side and squint my eyes and allowing him to finish what he was saying and tell you what this ‘idea’ he had was. “Do you want to do a practise run of the booth without them?” He asked excitedly, it is almost difficult to decline him.

“Chris, i think you’ve had enough practise runs with the a million times you’ve come here before,” you are almost scolding but seeing his face with his ever-present smirk plastered on their you just gave in to easily, “but i dont know how it works so show me,”you then exclaim excitedly before he grabs your hand and pulls you towards the booth, pulling back the curtain and sitting inside.

It was a lot smaller than you had originally thought, but then again it was quite old fashioned and there was never any harm in getting a little too close to your boyfriend while his brothers aren’t present. So, you decide to place yourself on his lap and close the curtain with one and as the other hand wraps itself around Chris’s neck for stability.

You hadn’t even noticed how much Chris had enjoyed the touch until you try and get yourself more comfortable on his lap, wriggling about making Chris go crazy behind you.

“Ma, I’m gonna go crazy if you keep doing that to me”.

You only giggle before sitting still again, however, still missing the small sensation that built up inside the pit of your stomach at the feeling of yourself grazing his crotch area while getting comfy. Chris felt it as well and couldn’t help but get.a little turned on by the action either. But when Chris got turned on, you noticed.

He rested is head on your shoulder and brings his hands to your waist much like before, but this isn’t as comforting as it once was, this was dirtier and needy. You attempted to ignore it as you turned to the screen of the booth that was going to take your photos and were selected the options for you to use. At that moment you could have sworn that you felt Chris lift his lap upwards into you.

You let out a gasp at the feel of the now prominent bulge that was now present under his dark cargos. Fuck just the graze of it on your thigh was making you wetter at the moment.

Chris lifted his head slightly from the crook of your neck and turned it as he began to kiss gently kisses below your ear and onto your neck. Fuck.

“Chris, we can’t do this right now? look where we are” you try to send Chris straight and attempted to use a stretcher voice that however ended as a quiet moan. Your noises only provoked chris more at this point. He didn’t respond to your question but instead planted more open-mouthed kisses onto you.

You were having a mental battle with yourself at that very moment as you knew if you voiced it, chris would not be much help. You then decided to give in and slowly begun to move your hips onto his crotch. You could feel him growing harder under you from my movements. He decided to grasp your hips firmer and guide then just how he had wanted onto his clothed cock and helping you to move.

What was once slow grinding became quickly paced, you couldn’t help but let out a moan that wasn’t loud enough to be heard by matt or nick but could be heard if you were close enough to the booth. Chris removed one of his hands from your waists and placed it onto your mouth, muffling you and ensuring you don’t make any more erotic sounds.

He pulled you even closer if that was possible and continued to move up into you at a crazy pace and you could now feel his pulsating dick beneath the fabric of his trousers making your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“That feel good, ma? You Like humping me when anyone could walk in?” He whispers close into your ear and all you can do is lean your head back onto his shoulder as a muffled whimper had escaped you.

He continued to rut up into you and a continuous pace and making sure that you felt everything, while sloppily placing open mouth kissed onto your shoulder. The sensation of his clothed dick still hitting your clit was now getting you so worked up that you felt the familiar tightness in you.

You could feel the knot in your stomach growing tighter as you moved faster and harder on his lap. Again, and again and again.

“Fuck you’re close already, ma?” he mocks you in your ear in a deep voice that almost send you over the edge. Embarrassment filling your body as you realise that Chris is aware of the power that he has over you.

You didn’t even realise that Chris had removed the hand that was once in his mouth to play around with the buttons on the machine and before you knew it, the booth was capturing yours and Chris’s pleasure in its old fashioned black and white photographs.

You began to circle your hip to get just the right pressure onto my clit before i released all over his lap and feeling the knot snap in your stomach as your orgasm washed over you still feeling Chris’s hands still guiding your hips, holding you still very close through your high. Which was captured perfectly on the photo booths camera.

Then you felt his dick twitch against your sensitive clit, which made you let ou a cry while he groaned into my ear. Chris had now taken complete control of your waist, using you to rub himself through his orgasm, which you happily allowed.

You felt super sensitive due to his fast motions, but it still felt unreal, so you just let him do his thing until he slowed his movements, leaving his hands on your hips while you leaned your head to the side to relax on his shoulder.

“Fuck, you make me feel so crazy, ma” he turns his head to you giving you a dopey grin ad his eyes are now blown out with lust.

“I could completely say the same for you, baby” you say before patting down his hair and kissing his lips in a quick passionate kiss. You lean away from each other and hold one another’s gaze while having your foreheads pressed together. You both were very much appreciating the moment until…

“I beg that you clean that seat before any of us sit on it, please,” you hear a disgusted whine coming from nick from further away outside the curtain.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

A/n: thank so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed if i have made any mistakes please do not hesitate to let me know. I wrote this purely because im obsessed with the booth by Bryant era and i wanted it back… anyway

Love all my angels (especially @gamermattsgf) 💞

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #smut

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mystra-midnight · 6 months

Text

Holy Roar

summary: eddie watched your face—the way your mouth twisted and tears dripped from the corners of your eyes because of the over stimulation. he listened to your wild breaths and felt how your body begged for mercy while your soul screamed for more, more, more.

tags: 18+ only. unprotected sex; p in v. praise kink. pet names; good girl, sweet girl, baby. overstimulation. mentions of squirting if you squint. teeth-rotting fluff. eddie being a simp for his girl. soft!eddie but also hints of mean/dom!eddie.

w/c: 2.3k

a/n: eddie might not be religious but he's pretty sure heaven is between your thighs. requested by anon, thank you so much. <3 i needed a reason to be sappy and sweet today after all the drama going on. also, for the record. this was meant to be a drabble but evidently i have no self control.

Eddie Munson wasn't religious, but he did believe in heaven.

He'd swear up and down that he'd seen heaven, and no one had been able to convince him otherwise. The truth was, when he was buried in the tight warmth of your pussy with your arms wrapped around him, he could hear the sound of angels singing. It was a beautiful melody, a crescendo that rang in his ears and brought him to tears.

When he was with you, wrapped in the velvet embrace of your walls, his face hidden against the slope of your neck, the world would melt away. Nothing else mattered in those moments. He wasn’t alone, and he wasn’t a freak; he was just Eddie, and you were just you, and when he moved in you, the holy dark moved too.

And when you came, trembling and twitching beneath him, with pretty moans and whimpers pouring from your kiss-bitten lips, it was like he was born again. When he watched your features twist with rapture, he saw the world through brand new eyes—eyes that were filled with the vision of only you, an angel come to life beneath him, your holy light shining so brightly that he wasn’t sure you were real.

He often had to remind himself that you were.

Sometimes Eddie had to pinch himself just to convince himself that you weren't a beautiful, haunting illusion about to slip through his fingers. It was why he touched you with greedy hands at every opportunity. He touched you because he could, gripping the fat of your thighs, the curve of your hips, the pudge of your stomach, your tits, your cheeks, and your hands.

He was never cruel. Firm, yes; mocking, sometimes, but he could never hurt you. Eddie would hold you with strong hands that never stilled unless he was pounding into you, forcing unholy moans from your pretty mouth.

And unless he was kissing you, his tongue in your mouth, twirling and dancing with yours, he couldn’t stay silent. Eddie loved to whisper sweet nothings in between searing kisses. He would growl in your ear while carving his way to your guts. He would babble mindlessly as he chased his orgasm, fucking you through one, then a second, and then a third.

Some nights he was wild and untamed, whereas others he was kind and gentle.

No matter what, it was always a religious experience.

And tonight was no different.

Eddie had you on your back with your hands pinned above your head; he was holding both of your wrists in one of his larger hands. Your legs were around his waist, and the heels of your feet were pressing into his backside to draw him deeper as he rolled his hips and found that sweet spot that made you sing. Tears ebbed at your lash line, and he chased each one that fell with an eager tongue.

It was a cool evening in Hawkins, Indiana. Sometime past ten, a light rain had settled over the town. Eddie could hear the pitter-patter of droplets as they hit the roof of the caravan, the slide as they cascaded down the awnings, and the splatter as they hit the ground. The window was open, and a cool breeze was playing with the curtains, leaving his sweat-slicked skin goosepimpled.

“You’re so fucking pretty like this,” he murmured. His voice was rough and heavy with lust. “Can’t believe you’re mine,” he continued, mumbling the words against the slope of your neck, where he scrapped his teeth over your racing pulse. You arched beneath him when he dragged a ringed hand down your body, cruising from your throat to your chest, where he paused to brush a thumb over your peddled nipple before tugging on it a little meanly.

He listened to the way your breath hitched and the needy moan that tumbled past your lips when he moved his hand lower to the apex of your thighs. Eddie Munson was a simple man who loved you in this state—cock-drunk and floating in the clouds.

He loved to watch you come undone for him. He loved the way your back would arch, the way your muscles would tighten and flex, how you pulled him in and pushed him away when the pleasure mounted, and the way you couldn’t seem to get enough air while riding each orgasm. He couldn’t get enough of you; he was addicted to you.

“Bet you’re sensitive, baby.” Eddie said, gliding his pointer and ring finger on either side of your clit, which was still buzzing from the last orgasm he’d pulled from the depths of your soul. He felt you twitch beneath him, heard the sharp intake of breath, and heard the muffled whine that escaped your pretty mouth. “But look at you—still s’fucking wet. You’ve soaked the sheets, girl. But you're gonna cum again, aren’t you? Good, I need to hear those pretty sounds.”

He posed it as a question, but he wasn’t asking. Eddie took advantage of your delirious state, licking a long, wet strip up the column of your throat and moaned deeply as he savoured the sweat-slicked taste of your skin. Eddie didn't care that you were sweaty, that you were dishevelled, or that you were making a mess of his sheets. He cared that you were here and that you were beneath him.

He watched your face as he rolled his hips, his cock piercing through your velvet walls and his balls slapping against your ass as he drove deeper. Your lips parted in a perfect 'o', and you squirmed, straining to close your legs only to find his slim waist holding them open as a familiar heat sparked to life between your hips.

“I can’t.”

He said the words with you, as he already knew that you would say them. Eddie Munson was a menace that ruled your life, and you were a marionette on a string, so sweet and eager to please him. He could play you like a fiddle. He knew what words built you up and which ones sent you tumbling down again. As though to prove this, he circled his fingers around your clit, slick with arousal, left, then right, then spread them again, trapping your clit between his fingers with just a hint of pressure.

You keened loudly, throwing your head back and exposing your throat—an invitation that he quickly accepted. Eddie smeared hot, wet kisses along your skin, listening to the whimpers and whines that spilt from your lips as he rubbed your nub, enjoying the way you tugged at your wrists and writhed beneath him. “S’too much, Eddie. Eddie, please, please.”

You sounded so pretty when you begged; your voice was breathless and ethereal as you begged for something you couldn't decide on. Mercy or more—you didn't know.

But he did.

"You can," he replied. Eddie buried his face against your neck, his hot breath balmy against your skin, as he nuzzled his nose below the curve of your jaw before sucking a dark mark into your skin. "Just one more, I promise, baby, then I'll let you rest." It was the devil's lie, one that came easily from his tongue.

Eddie Munson was an addict, and you were his drug of choice. In truth, he knew that he would be going to hell, so he was going to enjoy heaven while he could. He kissed you without warning. Hard, slowly, thoroughly, just because he could. It made you moan and made your toes curl.

“Need you to cum again—fuck—just one more, that’s all I want."

“Mhmm, okay,” you whimpered, high-pitched and breathless, as he moved his fingers in tight circles around your nub, switching direction once, then twice. And then he moved. Eddie sat back on his haunches, threw your legs over his shoulders, and pulled you closer so that he could drive deeper, until you felt him in your lungs.

Your obedience and willingness made him smile. Eddie licked your calf, his teeth scraping teasingly at your ankle. Your pussy clenched hotly around his aching length. "You're such a good girl, aren’t you? S’fucking pretty, s’fucking sweet. Fuck, I love you,” he rambled, lost in the moment. The taste of you swimming in his mouth and the sight of you flooding his eyes were too much for him to bear.

You were beautiful; an angel trapped it in a rhapsody of pleasure—all his. Eddie pulled out slowly, your velvet heat clutching at his cock. He watched with wide and wondrous eyes as your hole clenched and winked at him, but it was the combination of pre-cum and slick dripping from you—the way it slid down the crack of your ass and joined the mess you'd made of the sheets—that broke his resolve.

The groan that clawed up the back of his throat was something feral and all-consuming, calling to something buried inside of you. Your answering whine was desperate. Eddie grabbed your jaw, his thumb dragging over your lower lip, so that he could watch the blissed expression in your eyes as he filled you again, hard and to the brim. "Look at you, girl, so cum-drunk that you're leaking on my cock. My pretty, perfect girl."

Time began to slow down. Heat slithered like a snake through your veins, slow to start as it set your body aflame, and then faster, striking with venom and fangs until your eyes rolled so far back that Eddie was sure you'd see your own brain. You were in a trance, and it was no one but Eddie’s fault.

You couldn’t answer him, even if you had wanted to. Each time he fucked into you, his cock spearing through your walls and reaching the depths of your being, the air was forced from your lungs, leaving you breathless and floating higher in the sky. He left a trail of wet kisses along your ankle, lapping at each bite with an eager tongue while he found your mound with the opposite hand, thumb swiping left and right, then, round and round, your clit.

The piston of his hips didn’t slow when you pushed against his abdomen, nails scratching the surface of his skin as though you wanted to burrow beneath it and live there. Eddie watched your face—the way your mouth twisted and tears dripped from the corners of your eyes because of the over stimulation. He listened to your wild breaths and felt how your body begged for mercy while your soul screamed for more, more, more.

“Too much, Eddie,” you gasped, all breathless and sweet. Eddie smiled down at you, a beautiful lopsided grin that had the snake in your veins pulling tighter. It was so tight now that you thought you might die—that your bones would break and your heart would give. But the look in your eyes—that sly come-hither stare—told him you needed that release almost as much as you needed to breathe.

"You're going to be a good girl and cum for me, yeah? You're squeezing my dick so tight, baby, you're going to fucking break it.” Eddie chortled. Sweat beaded on his brow, dripped from his nose, and landed on your chest as he bent to brush his mouth against yours. Your legs fell from his shoulders, knees coming to rest in the crook's of his arms as he shadowed over you like a perfect machiavellian devil.

His lips smashed against yours in a kiss made entirely of tongue, teeth, and saliva. It was messy, sloppy, and desperate, leaving a string of saliva connecting your lips when you finally parted. Eddie was lost, chasing his own release that was hurtling towards him like a semi with its brakes cut.

And then it happened, all at once and without warning.

One moment you grabbed at him, clawing at his back and pulling on his hair, and then you were breathless, your limbs locked and your head thrown back. It was like the sky split open and a bolt of lightning speared through you, connecting with that sweet spot Eddie was abusing, only to arch throughout your body. You came screaming his name, and it was the sound of heaven, and he rejoiced.

"You're so good to me, sweet girl," Eddie said. His lips left a trail of blistering kisses from your chin, down your jaw, and to your neck, where he hid his face against your sweat-slicked skin. His breath was wild and balmy as he panted against your skin. His muscles twisted and knotted as the force of his impending orgasm grew. "I'm going—fuck—I'm going to marry you. I'm going to put a ring on your finger and buy you a fucking house."

And he meant it. If there was one thing on God's green earth that Eddie Munson was completely and irrevocably certain about, it was you. He was going to make you his wife. He was going to give you his name. He was going to give you his kids.

He felt you grab him again, your nails reclaiming their position on his shoulders as the world started to fade into background ambience. A haze overcame his vision, glowing orange from the fire raging within him. And then the tension in his body broke, ricocheting through him with the force of a hurricane.

Eddie speared through your walls one last time before settling deep within you, so deep that you could feel him pressing against the back of your throat. His weight above you was like a weighted blanket that is smothering but comfortable. It kept you grounded while you ride the coattails of your orgasm. Eddie came with a guttural groan, his abdominal muscles flexing as he filled you with thick ropes of his seed.

Seconds slid into minutes before he withdrew and collapsed to the bed at your side. The sheets were a mess at the foot of the bed, and the sound of the rain was louder now. The room smelled like sweat, sex, and fresh rain. You were both quiet as you floated through the clouds, content to lay side-by-side and let the silence bloom. There was nothing either of you had to say—the moment was already perfect because, while Eddie Munson wasn't religious, he did believe in heaven.

And with you, he felt born again.

tags: @hideoutside

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie x you

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mysticworks · 1 month

Text

One day too late ~ LN4 x Reader

Lando x Pregnant! Reader; Coworker! Reader; Very Angsty; mentions of intimacy but nothing explicit; Borderline Forbidden love; Reader & Lando are friends with feelings

S Y N O P S I S:

Carried away at the party, you and Lando share a beautiful night. Lando, worried about the implications on his career, urges you to pretend it never happened, ignoring your feelings for each other...until 6 weeks later you find out you're carrying his child. Word count: 1.5k

[ Drop a comment to be tagged in part 2 ]

A beam of sun in your eyes pulled you out of your slumber.

Sore. Head pounding. A deep ache in your lower stomach.

It took you a few seconds to realise that this wasn't your room. The unfamiliar sheets, the duvet much thicker and heavier. There seemed to be so much room across the mattress, stretching out in its emptiness.

Then every memory from last night came tumbling through.

After a launch party of the new 2024 season, you’d found yourself a little too lost in the celebrations, Lando right beside you in fits of giggles and dances.

You'd always had feelings for Lando, ever since you joined the PR team during his rookie days - the working time together bonding into a quickly growing friendship. Yet something had always stopped you from taking it further.

And so when Lando placed his hands on your waist last night, his face inches away from yours before your lips finally collided - every rational thought was thrown out the window.

The heat of the party. The excitement and psychedelic blood rush. Climbing into Lando’s car. Your legs, entangled. His whisper of sudden hot, breathless confession. Your heart pounding in reciprocated emotions. Your hands in his curl, his...

You shot up in bed, last night now a vivid image.

Lando was sitting across the room, on his computer, headphones flung around his neck. His eyes flick away from the computer screen at your sudden movement, coming to rest on you, and he draws in a long breath.

You felt the air leave your lungs. How did he manage to look so gorgeous even in the mornings?

“How are you feeling?” You blinked at his break of silence, words not quite making it out of your mouth.

“Yeah, I’m…” Raking your fingers through your curtain of bangs in an attempt to collect your thoughts, “I’m fine.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got the pounding headache too.” Lando shrugged, sighing, before powering down the screen and in a swift motion making his way across the room, over to you.

Awkwardness suddenly overcame you and you did everything to avert your gaze from his.

This proved pointless as he sat himself in front of you, the mattress dipping under his weight. You could feel the warmth radiate off his body, his finger coming to rest under your chin as he forced your eyes to meet.

“Are you okay?” There was a sadness in Lando’s eyes, one that didn’t quite match the gentleness of his voice. You mumbled a reply, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks - his face was so close - forcing your heart to respond with a quickened beat.

“Listen, I’m sorry for last night.” Your brows found themselves furrowing at his words.

“Sorry?”

“We shouldn’t have…” He raked his curls, shutting his eyes tight for a brief moment, as if pained to say the words.

His voice was quieter when he spoke again, “We shouldn’t have done what we did y/n.”

You felt something stab at your chest. “I don’t understand, Lando, I like you, you like me, we’ve known each other for years…what’s…what’s the - ”

He didn't give you a chance to finish. “I can’t risk having…I just can’t risk a relationship right now. We can’t - ”

He pauses, gaze softening as you feel your eyes well up, but you’re determined to keep a stoic expression on your face.

It didn't help that Lando was looking at you with such an intense look in his eye, his hand cupping your cheek before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Are you saying we can't date?”

You felt your voice betray you, a single tear spilling down your cheek. Lando used his thumb to wipe it away, taking in a shaky breath.

He looked away. “Please. I’m sorry.” His eyes were almost telling you to stay, now also welled with redness, but his words said differently.

You felt the world collapse. Your breath hitched. A tremor shot through your limbs as you scrambled out from Lando’s bed. He got up too from his seat, standing limply in the centre of his room.

It was then you realised you were in his clothes, his loose tee reaching your knees, a pair of his joggers clumsily worn over your legs. You paid no heed, now eager to just leave. To run away and hide.

Never had rejection been so cold. It was almost like he’d used you. A part of you wanted to scream at him, throw things and ask him “why,” yet you felt as if life had been sucked out of you.

One of the best days of your life had been merely hours ago, before turning into a nightmare.

“Y/n…” You’d only just reached the door, but his call made you stop in your tracks. There was a shameless hope he’d changed his mind.

“Here. It’s cold out.”

He held out one of his hoodies, passing it to you in a gesture to take it.

You did. Curt and refusing to meet his gaze, before turning around stiffly.

And without another word, you left his apartment, refusing to look back.

----------------------

You weren’t sure when you got home, drenched from the rain that came gushing down along the way.

You weren’t sure of much…only that your relationship with Lando was over.

Over before it had even begun.

Climbing out of bed the next day was the worst feeling. With no energy in your limbs, you called in sick to work, refusing to face anyone at the McLaren office, but more importantly, avoiding Lando.

You stayed in bed, too exhausted from crying to move.

It wasn’t until a week later that you finally showed up at work. The pain seemed to have subdued; now replaced with forever changing moods. At times you were down in the dumps, exhausted and tired - your head slightly foggy - other times, irritable and angry. Yet you ploughed on at work, ignoring the sleepless nights and restless evenings.

Avoiding Lando at work was near impossible, and yet you managed. Only speaking to him when absolutely unavoidable through email, or putting on your best corporate voice.

Eye contact was avoided altogether, even when he craned his head to catch your gaze, you turned away.

That was a satisfaction you refused to give him.

At 2 weeks it seemed the restless nights had been replaced with exhausted ones, a full night's sleep still leaving you fatigued and nauseous in the mornings. You blamed the sickness on heartbreak.

Lando watched you more often now, sitting in the lobby of your office during lunch breaks. You turned down the blinds and shut him out.

-------------------

The realisation came, 6 weeks post heartbreak. A quick glance at your calendar told you you’d missed your cycle. The nausea, tiredness, mood swings all made sense now - each jigsaw piece coming together to fit the puzzle.

Although the fear of raising a baby alone rose in your throat, you were determined to do it. You knew Lando had a right to know. Yet somewhere, deep down in your heart, you refused to give him that.

Perhaps you were running away.

Perhaps this was your revenge.

Your resignation made sure he’d never know.

L A N D O 'S P O V:

They say you don’t know the value of something until it’s gone. I've learnt this truth the hard way.

I’ve watched her everyday since that night; desperately trying to catch her eye at work; take her aside and apologise. Tell her we can make this happen... start over, uncaring of the world and it's concerns.

I've watched her everyday, slowly starting to shrivel. The bags under her eyes, the tiredness in her smile. I’ve watched her at lunch, nibbling at almost nothing at her plate before silently excusing herself away.

It devastates me to know that this pain is from me. I have caused it and she didn't deserve it. How I wish I could tell her that I was wrong. I was so, so wrong.

I miss her smile. Her company; once a comfort. I miss having her by my side; encouraging; so full of energy.

And so this is my chance. My chance to finally set things right.

Clutching the bouquet - glitter roses I spent the last night making - I head over to the PR query desk, determined to start again, if she can give me the chance.

There’s a new member of staff at the desk; someone I’ve never seen before and he tilts his head up at me, hearing my approach, flashing me a smile.

He thinks I’m here for a project meeting and begins to rise from his seat, holding up a clipboard as if ready to pass it over.

“I’m looking for y/n, l/n.” A moment passes.

Legs jittering. Heart tight and constricted; there’s a sense of urgency swelling in me as if telling me to hurry, rushing me to make things right. My fingers tap at the desk, impatient.

He gives a sigh, furrowing his brows and lowering the clipboard back into place.

“I'm afraid she's not here. She gave in her resignation yesterday.”

The words hit me like a boulder to the chest.

My legs feel heavy, a tornado whirling in the pit of my stomach. My fingers unclench from the bouquet and with a soft thud, the flowers thud to the ground; petals ripping apart from impact.

They've crumbled. Glitter littering the floor.

It was over.

I was one day too late.

Taglist: @hc-dutch @racinggirl @aileeincomplexity @kravitzwhore @eringaitskill @adoreyou-ido @landoslutmeout @queenofmanydreams

#ln4 #ln4 ang #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 angst #formula one angst #formula 1 angst #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris angst #lando norris x oc #lando norris x you #f1 angst

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burntheedges · 3 days

Text

and then they kiss

Frankie Morales x f!reader | 18+ | 14.6k words masterlist | ao3

summary: After 6 months, someone finally moves into the house next door – a very, very hot someone and his adorable little girl. (or, Frankie Morales and his daughter move in to the house next to door (and then into your heart))

a/n: it’s here! This is the fic you all voted on from my followers celebration. Thank you to @undercoverpena for the original prompt in the fic title ask game! And thank you to @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta, as always. I hope you all enjoy it.

tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, Frankie has a daughter (Elena, age 6), neighbors to friends to lovers, food and drink mention, reader has a cat, reader is a middle school teacher, dancing, pet names (baby, hermosa, bebita, cariño, handsome), smut: kissing, cuddling, grinding, fondling, fingering, oral (f!receiving), p-in-v sex (protected by birth control, discussed), brief mention of reader’s chest area but no mention of breasts, reader has no description other than having a vagina and she/her pronouns, no ages mentioned but reader has a fully established teaching career so take that as you will, Frankie speaks Spanish, so does reader, reader can wink (author cannot), no use of y/n

...

It was a hot, sunny Sunday towards the end of summer when someone finally moved into the vacant house next door to yours.

It had been empty for about 6 months, ever since Mr. and Mrs. Park had packed up and moved to Florida to be closer to their grandkids. You knew they’d been having trouble selling it, somehow, even though it was an extremely cute and well-kept two-bedroom with a nice yard.

You were enjoying your slow morning with a cup of coffee and mindless TV when you saw the moving truck back into the driveway next door. Curiosity peaked, you stood and tiptoed closer to your window, peering through your light curtains at the commotion. The men you assumed were the movers hopped out of the cab and started to get ready to unload. At the same time, you noticed another car with out of state plates pull up and park on the road behind the truck. You sank onto your window seat to get a better look, still mostly hidden by your curtains.

At first the only thing you could see was the back of the driver’s head as he stood on the other side of the car, and you lost sight of him again when he ducked into the backseat. When he rounded the front of the car, you realized he had a little girl with him.

You also realized he was the hottest man you’d ever seen. He was tall, with a baseball cap that didn’t disguise the way his dark brown hair curled over his ears. He took off his sunglasses as you watched and hung them on the front of his shirt, drawing your eyes down his neck and along his collarbones. You swallowed roughly. Your eyes traced back up over his handsome face as he smiled down at the girl you assumed was his daughter. He had a scruffy beard and some of the widest shoulders you’d ever seen.

He walked hand-in-hand with the little girl over the grass and laughed when she launched herself into happy spins, giggling as she fell onto her back. He pulled her up and tossed her in the air, catching her easily and spinning her around. You could hear her happy shrieks through the window, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his smile.

“Shit,” you muttered aloud. “He’s so hot.” Thankfully no one heard you but your cat, Ursula, who was curled up on the window seat below you. She flicked her ear in your direction dismissively and went back to sleep.

You shook your head. You weren’t expecting such an adorable scene next door when you got up this morning. You weren’t expecting new neighbors at all, you had no idea they’d finally sold the house. You wondered if or when you should introduce yourself. Maybe some time this week? You didn’t want to interrupt what you knew would be a busy day of unloading and unpacking.

You watched as your new neighbor picked up his daughter before starting to direct the movers, and then forced yourself to move away from the window. If you kept staring you were going to get caught.

You put the handsome man out of your mind and decided you’d try to introduce yourself soon. If you peeked out of the window a few more times that morning, well… no one seemed to notice. (Not even Ursula.)

…

In the end, you didn’t have to wait long at all. You were scrambling out the door the next morning, keys and travel mug in hand, when your new neighbor’s front door opened, too.

“Vámonos mija,” you heard him call out as he stepped sideways through the door, looking back into the house. You shivered – his voice was deep and you could hear the smile in it.

You blinked and froze next to your car door. He was facing away from you and your eyes caught on his shoulders again – he was wearing a denim collared shirt and it was tight in all the right places. Your eyes traced over his curls at the back of his neck, over his shoulders and down the curve of his back to admire how tight his jeans were.

It was a nice view.

Before you could unfreeze, he turned and his eyes found yours. Because you were staring. You blinked and tried to look less obvious about it.

“Oh! Good morning, neighbor.” He smiled warmly at you and you felt yourself start to smile back. “Headed to work?”

You nodded. “Hi,” you replied, and you felt your cheeks heat. You mentally groaned at yourself. Come on. “Er, yes. Running a little bit late actually.”

He tilted his head at you curiously. “You must work early, it’s barely after 7.”

You nodded again. “I’m a teacher, we’re prepping before the students come back next week.”

His face lit up with a grin as his daughter came barrelling out of the house past his legs. “Oh, so maybe you’ll meet this one soon?” He gestured at her as she noticed you and came to a stop.

“Not quite yet,” you shook your head, still smiling. “I teach at the middle school.”

“Ah,” he nodded and squeezed his daughter’s shoulder reassuringly. “So you’re a saint, then.”

You laughed. It wasn’t the first time someone had said that to you. “Nah, they’re fun. Most of the time.”

You watched as he laughed and felt a warmth start to spread through you – you’d made him laugh.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t introduce myself.” He started down the steps towards his driveway and his daughter followed along with a curious expression. “I’m Frankie, this is Elena. ‘Lena, this is our new neighbor.” He looked down at her as he gestured at you and you smiled at her as you introduced yourself.

You heard Frankie repeat your name and you looked back up to find him looking at you again. For a moment neither of you said anything, until Elena tugged on his arm. You felt your heart rate pick up as you startled into motion.

“Well,” you started, gesturing towards your car. “I have to get to work. Do you want to, um.” You bit your lip. “Maybe I could make you two dinner this week? As a welcome to the neighborhood thing?”

Frankie grinned and Elena smiled shyly. “We’d love that.”

All three of you headed off to your cars. You looked over your shoulder right before you got into yours, and found Frankie watching you with one corner of his mouth lifted into a smile.

You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face the whole drive into work.

…

You, Frankie and Elena waved and said hello to each other a few more times during the week, whenever you ran into each other in your driveways. They seemed to be focused on unpacking – as far as you could tell Frankie hadn’t started work quite yet, and you knew school would start the following Monday.

You caught them coming home on Thursday afternoon from what looked like a trip to shop for furniture and succeeded in inviting them over for dinner on Saturday night.

“Elena needed a new, well. A new everything,” he explained when you asked what they’d been up to. He smiled ruefully. “She’d grown out of her bed and I promised she’d get to pick out new things when we got here.”

“What’d she pick?” You looked over at where she was sitting on top of the pile of long cardboard boxes in their driveway and kicking her feet against the cement.

“A matching bed and dresser set – pale wood with flowers painted on it.” He shook his head with a smile. “As soon as I saw it I knew she’d pick it. It’s exactly her style.”

You smiled. “Sounds lovely.”

He nodded. “Now I just have to find time to build it.”

You bit your lip to keep yourself from offering to help, either with the building or with Elena. You thought maybe it was too soon for that, but probably not for dinner.

“Did you two still want to come over for dinner? Maybe on Saturday?”

Frankie grinned at you. “Absolutely. And don’t worry, Elena isn’t too picky.”

You hummed. “What about tacos? So she can build her own?”

“Perfect.” Frankie stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “What time?”

“How about 5? I know she probably eats early.”

He smiled again. “She does. Thank you for thinking of it. 5 is great.”

“Great,” you repeated, smiling at him.

You both stood there, smiling at each other, until Elena appeared suddenly at Frankie’s side.

“C’mon, dad! I want to build my new bed for tonight!”

He laughed. “Mija, the mattress isn’t here yet. What are you gonna do, sleep in the middle of the frame on the floor?”

She shrugged. “Daddy! Come ooooon,” she dragged out the last word as she pulled his arm, and you laughed.

“Better get to work, Frankie.” He turned back to catch your eye and you noticed he was blushing a little bit.

“See you on Saturday, neighbor.”

…

On Saturday you spent most of the afternoon scrambling around your house as you cleaned and prepared to host guests. You kept walking through the living room and seeing something else you should tidy up or put away or organize until it was almost 3:30pm and you hadn’t started cooking.

By the time Frankie and Elena rang your doorbell, the food was ready, at least. You had everything set up in a little buffett on your counter and it did look pretty nice, in the end.

You, on the other hand, looked exactly like you’d just been cooking for an hour and a half.

“Shit.” You hovered in the hallway for a minute, looking down at your shirt and wishing you’d worn an apron. You heard Elena ask Frankie if she should ring the doorbell again and sighed.

You walked quickly over the door and opened it. “Hi! Come on in.” You stepped back to invite them in and hoped you didn’t actually look like you were utterly covered in food.

Elena smiled a little shyly up at you and said hi back. Frankie smiled and you watched as he took in the evidence that you’d been cooking.

You winced a little bit. “I’m sorry, I was caught up in the kitchen – come on in and let me go change real quick. You can sit on the couch or explore a little, whatever you’d like.”

Frankie caught your eye. “Hey, no worries. And I think you look nice.”

You scoffed a little as you turned and waved them towards the couch. “I’m literally covered in tacos.” He huffed a laugh. “I’ll be right back.”

You ran upstairs and changed quickly, not wanting them to feel awkward waiting too long in your living room. When you came back down you found Elena looking at Ursula and you could tell she badly wanted to pet her.

“That’s Ursula. You can pet her, she’s very chill.” Elena grinned and brushed one hand lightly over her back. Ursula stretched out on the window seat and started purring so loudly you could hear her from the doorway to the kitchen. “See, she likes you already.” Elena giggled and kept petting her.

You looked over at Frankie, finally, and found him looking at you. “I told her she had to wait for you to come back first.” He smiled. “I thought she might give in, though, Ursula was putting on a pretty cute act over there.”

You grinned. “Yeah, she does that. The ‘no one has ever pet me before in my life’ routine.” He laughed, and you admired how nice it looked when he did.

“Well, you ready for some tacos?” You turned back to Elena and she turned and nodded.

“We sure are.” Frankie looked at his daughter as he replied and held out his hand for her. “Let’s wash our hands, mija.”

You showed them the kitchen and they both headed for the sink to wash their hands. You were glad you’d taken the time to clear up some of the dishes, even if it had meant you yourself weren’t ready yet when they arrived.

“What would you like to drink? I have water, apple juice, orange juice, and iced tea.” You saw Elena perk up at the offer of juice, and smiled when she asked for apple juice (which Frankie had told you she liked). The three of you put your tacos together (Elena with some help from Frankie) and soon enough found yourselves sitting around your table, ready to eat.

You watched as they dug in and smiled when they both made appreciative noises over the food. Elena started kicking her heels against the legs of her chair, focusing hard on holding her taco just right.

“So how was your first week in town?” You glanced between them, but Frankie answered.

“Alright. I don’t have to start work until after Elena starts school next week, so we had a lot of time to explore and unpack. Find the grocery store, get library cards. School supplies.” He shrugged. “It’s still pretty chaotic inside the house but I think we’ll be ready.”

You laughed and nodded. “Chaos is normal this time of year, I think. For parents and teachers alike.”

Frankie smiled back at you. “We went to the open house yesterday, at the elementary school. ‘Lena, what was your favorite part?” He nudged her with his elbow and she chewed and swallowed dramatically before answering. From the way Frankie laughed and nodded at her, you assumed chewing before talking was a point of contention between them.

“I like the playground.” You nodded. The elementary school had just gotten a grant for a new playground a few years ago, and it was pretty impressive. “And my classroom is cool. We have a snake.”

“Oh! So you have Mrs. Li.”

Elena perked up. “You know my teacher?”

You nodded. “I do. I know most of the teachers, really, but Mrs. Li and I went to college together. She’s great. And Wilbur is a very friendly snake.” You glanced at Frankie and could have sworn you saw him repress a shudder.

Elena looked more excited, then. “She said we’re going to learn all about how to take care of him and everything.”

“Yep. And you’ll get to visit the other animals, too, in the other classrooms.” Elena looked like she was about to vibrate off the chair with excitement. “Yeah, it’s pretty cool.” You looked back up at Frankie and found him watching you with a soft smile.

“It seems like a good school.” He raised an eyebrow at you, and you nodded.

“It is. They have a lot of cool programs. They just got a grant for a few new field trips this year, but I’m not sure what the final plan is.”

“They mentioned that. I might have already signed up to chaperone.”

You laughed. “They got you that quick, huh?”

He shrugged with an easy smile. “Hanging out with my daughter all day? I’m not hard to convince. I’d rather do that than work.”

Elena giggled and you smiled, too. “What do you do for work? I don’t think you told me.”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t think I did. I’ll be teaching at the flight school at the airfield.”

You blinked. The airfield as in the air force base? You didn’t think there was another one nearby. “Oh! Military?”

He looked like he was going to nod, and then didn’t. “Was. Haven’t been active duty for a while. The school is for military and civilians together. They have some college students taking classes, too.”

You nodded. Sometimes seniors from the high school took the classes, as well. “What will you teach?”

“Daddy flies helicopters!” Elena interjected, and you grinned.

“Oh yeah? That sounds fancy.”

She nodded as her dad handed her a napkin to clean up her hands. “It’s cool. He gets to wear funny headphones. He took me flying before and I got to wear them, too.”

You laughed. “Very cool.” You raised your eyebrows at Frankie and he smiled, a bit sheepish.

“Yeah, mostly helicopters and small planes, for these classes. I can fly other things, too, just won’t be teaching that right now.” He shrugged. “I’d rather fly them myself, but the rest of the job that goes along with that isn’t worth it.” He glanced over at Elena and you thought you understood. He wanted to be around more for her.

“Definitely sounds cooler than my job.”

Frankie shook his head. “Nah. I don’t think I could teach middle schoolers much of anything.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Well, I don’t think I could fly a helicopter.”

He huffed a laugh and nodded, ceding the point.

“Can I go pet Ursula again?” Elena had one foot on the ground, half out of her chair already. Frankie nodded.

“Wash your hands first, please?” You asked, and she headed for the sink. “Cats can’t eat everything that was in these tacos, so just in case.” Elena nodded, looking serious. You smiled and watched her bound into the living room to find the cat again.

You turned back to Frankie and found him looking back at you. Again. “She’s pretty adorable.”

He grinned and blushed a little bit. It was extremely cute. “Doesn’t get it from me.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Pretty sure you have the exact same smile, Frankie.”

He laughed and shook his head. “Ok, I have heard that before. But she’s a lot like her mom.”

You nodded and hesitated, wondering how to ask. He must have noticed because he continued, “it’s ok. We do have shared custody, but I’ve got primary. Her mom got a great job offer that includes a lot of travel, and we agreed she should take it. Whenever she’s home she’ll get a place here in town and see Elena as much as she can, before she has to leave again.” He shrugged. “It was the offer of a lifetime, basically, and they talk pretty much every day. It’s working ok. We figured it won’t be like this forever, but her mom and I get along pretty well, these days. We’ll be able to figure it out again once she’s less mobile.”

This was such a refreshing outlook to hear from a parent that at first all you could do was blink. “That sounds like a really good co-parenting setup.” You realized you’d put on your teacher hat, just a little bit, and smiled ruefully. “I meet a lot of parents.”

He nodded. “I figured. You must hear some interesting things.”

You leaned forward and rested your chin on your hand as you considered how to respond. “I mean, sure. We all do, really, but the schools here have a lot of support for families built into the programming. I like working here and I like the people in town.”

He leaned forward on his elbows, too, and you realized you were suddenly much closer to him. You tried to look cool even as you felt a shiver run across your shoulders.

“That’s really good to hear, actually. I knew the schools had a good reputation, but she’ll be in first grade. It’s all new to both of us.”

You smiled and reached out to squeeze his forearm without thinking. “Her school is great, and so is Mrs. Li. She’ll be in great hands.”

Frankie covered your hand with his free one and squeezed your hand in response. You sucked in a breath and hoped it wasn’t noticeable. “Thank you.”

You weren’t sure what to do next – he was basically holding your hand – but thankfully, you didn’t have to figure it out. Elena came skipping back into the kitchen and you sat back in your chair, missing his hand even as it slid away from yours.

“Daddy, can we get a cat? Ursula is so nice.”

Frankie shot you a look and you grinned at him. “Mija, we talked about that. We have to settle in and figure out our schedule before we can get any kind of pet.”

She slumped, looking extremely put out, and you tried not to let it show how cute it was. “Ok.” She sounded utterly dejected.

You glanced between her and Frankie, hoping you weren’t overstepping. “You know, you can come over here and hang out with Ursula any time I’m home. As long as your dad says it’s ok.”

Elena perked up, eyes sparkling with excitement. She looked at her dad and clasped her hands together. “Daddy, please?”

Frankie was looking at you again. “You don’t have to–”

“It’s ok, really.” You cut him off. “I’m usually home by 4:30. So if she wants to come say hi to Ursula, that’s fine with both of us.” You gestured to the cat who had just trotted into the kitchen and was winding herself in little figure-8s around Elena’s legs.

Frankie sighed. “Ok, mija. You can come visit Ursula, but only when we both say it’s ok.” She cheered and sat on the kitchen floor to let Ursula climb into her lap.

You laughed. “It really is ok. My car will be here if I’m home, so you’ll know.” You looked down at Elena. “Sometimes I might be going out to dinner or something, but I’ll just tell you. You can still say hi to Ursula.”

You looked back up at Frankie and saw he looked a little thoughtful. “Are you, um.” He cut himself off and hesitated. “Going to dinner with anyone?” He immediately looked like he regretted asking. You smiled and tried not to get your hopes up about the reason he did.

You shrugged. “Just with friends, sometimes. My best friend is a lawyer and we try to see each other a couple of times a month, at least. And I have a book club.” You watched as Frankie started to smile again. “That’s about it, really.”

“No other hobbies?” He tilted his head.

“I go to the farmer’s market on Saturdays,” you offered. “Oh! Do you two want to come next week?”

Elena looked up but Frankie was shaking his head. “I have work next Saturday, but maybe the one after?”

You nodded. “Sure.”

“I won’t usually be working on Saturdays, it’s just part of the whole first week thing.”

Ursula got up and trotted back towards the living room and Elena followed. When she was out of earshot, Frankie murmured, “you don’t have to let her come over whenever, you know.”

You smiled at him. “I meant it, Frankie, it’s fine. I’ll just tell her if she can’t for some reason.” You paused, and realized maybe he was the one who wasn’t comfortable with it. “That is, if it’s ok with you. I know we just met–”

He shook his head and interrupted you. “No, it’s ok. I’ll be home by then most of the time anyway. I just didn’t want her to intrude. And maybe it’ll help me put off getting a pet a bit longer.” He grinned.

“Well, don’t worry about it. She’s welcome. You both are.” You felt your cheeks heat and you suddenly felt flustered. You stood and started to gather dishes, but Frankie waved you back down and took them from you.

“Let me do that.” He started to pile dishes in the sink. “You cooked, so it’s only fair.”

“Thank you.” You admired the way his shoulders moved in his flannel shirt as he moved around the kitchen.

He shrugged. “Thank you for dinner. I think I can speak for both of us when I say we had fun.”

“I’m glad.” You smiled. “Hopefully it was a good welcome to the neighborhood.”

Frankie nodded and turned to look back at you. “It was. Thank you.” He turned back to the sink and started washing your dishes, so you got up and moved to stand next to him so you could dry. “Not sure we could have asked for a better neighbor.”

You ducked your head when you felt your cheeks heat again and picked up a hand towel. You decided to change the subject. “So, what kind of pet does Elena want?”

He groaned, and you laughed. “After meeting Wilbur she started saying she wants a snake but that is not going to happen.” He shuddered. “Not a chance.”

“Frankie,” you started, turning towards him and leaning your hip against your counter. “Are you afraid of snakes?”

He glanced at you. “No.” You raised your eyebrows. “Ok, maybe. Look, they’re fine if they’re outside. I don’t want one in my house.”

You laughed again. “Fair.”

He shook his head. “I think we’ll go with a cat. But I want to wait a little while, first.”

“Makes sense.”

You fell into an easy silence as you finished up the dishes. You weren’t sure what to say next – you realized, then, how much you liked Frankie and Elena. You would never have expected something like this to happen when you got new neighbors. You could feel the beginnings of a crush stirring inside of you but you tamped it down.

You needed to get to know him first. You needed to let it happen and not get ahead of yourself.

Frankie cleared his throat, suddenly, and you turned to meet his eyes again. He opened his mouth, but whatever he was going to say was interrupted as Elena came barrelling back into the kitchen.

“Dad, Ursula is so cute. I think I want a cat just like her.” She wrapped her arms around his leg and he grinned so wide his eyes crinkled. Cute.

“Just like her, huh?” He dried his hands quickly and reached down to tousle her hair. She squealed in protest. Frankie glanced up at you and then past you, eyes widening.

“Oh! It’s getting late.” You turned back to check and saw that it was already 7. “Almost someone’s bed time.” Elena moaned and started hanging off his arm. You grinned, enjoying that she’d relaxed enough in your presence to act so normally around you. “Come on, mija. Say thank you for dinner.”

Elena turned towards you, suddenly shy again. “Thank you for dinner. It was really good. And I loved meeting Ursula.”

You smiled. “You’re welcome, Elena. Thank you for coming over.”

Frankie sent her towards the door to say goodbye to the cat and turned towards you again. “Really, thank you. Can we repay the favor? Have you over for dinner, maybe next week? Give us a little more time to get everything organized over there. It’s a mess right now.”

You were nodding before he finished talking. “I’d love that, Frankie. Just let me know when.”

He smiled and reached out to squeeze your arm. “Perfect. Wait, let me give you my number.”

After exchanging numbers you held the door for the two of them and watched them cross your yard towards theirs. You could hear Elena telling Frankie all about how cute and cuddly Ursula was, and all the funny things she did with the toys she’d found. You smiled.

Just before they went inside, Frankie turned back to you and waved. When he smiled you felt something warm start to burn inside you. Maybe this is actually going somewhere good.

…

Over the next week, you ran into Frankie and Elena almost every day, if only for a few minutes at a time. You rarely saw them in the mornings – you left for school much earlier than they did – but often in the afternoons. Elena came by to say hello to Ursula on Wednesday, and you were surprised she’d managed to wait so long. (That is, until Frankie told you he’d said no on Monday and Tuesday to give you a break after the first two days of school, which was so thoughtful you were momentarily speechless.)

On Friday you had plans to meet up with your best friend, and you were in the middle of getting ready when there was a knock on your door. You weren’t surprised to find Frankie and Elena on the other side.

“Hi,” Elena grinned up at you. “Can I play with Ursula?” She jumped up and down on her toes with her hands clasped together, and you couldn’t help but grin back.

“Of course,” you said, as you stepped out of the way so she could dart past you into the living room. You looked up to meet Frankie’s eyes and found him looking at your outfit, which was fancier than anything he’d seen you in so far.

“You look nice,” he said, voice sounding a bit rough. When he met your eyes again you noticed there was a bit of color in his cheeks.

You smiled. “Thank you. I’m meeting my best friend for dinner soon.”

Frankie hesitated as he stepped inside. “We can get out of your hair–”

You waved him off. “No, it’s fine. I’m not leaving for another half an hour. She can hang out with Ursula until then. I mean, if that works for you.”

He nodded, and hesitated again. “Would you–” He cleared his throat. “Would it be ok if I came back in about 15 minutes? I was in the middle of cooking dinner when she just ‘had to see Ursula, please daddy, it’s Friday’.” You laughed at his imitation of his daughter. “Everything’s fine over there but I can finish up and come back and get her.”

You were already nodding. “Of course. I’ll finish getting ready but it’s just down the hall, I’ll keep the door open and let her know.”

Frankie stepped in past you to let Elena know he’d be back, and you turned to find her sitting cross-legged on the floor with Ursula flopped upside down over her lap. You laughed. “I think we’ll be fine. I’ll be just down the hall, ok?” Elena nodded without looking up from Ursula, who was purring so loudly you could hear her from where you were standing. “Come get me if you need anything, or honestly I’ll hear you fine if you just talk to me from here.”

After Frankie left you returned to the bathroom with the door open so you could finish getting ready while listening to Elena and Ursula. You smiled at the cute noises she was making as you messed with your hair.

As you were finishing up you felt Ursula rub against your legs and noticed a little face peer around the edge of the door in the mirror.

“Hey, what’s up?’ you asked, meeting Elena’s eyes in the mirror. She stepped inside and looked around your bathroom.

“Are you going on a date?” She swung her arms a little when she asked and then bent down to pet Ursula again.

You shook your head when she looked back up at you. “No, just going to meet my best friend for dinner. She and I usually go to dinner after the first week of school so we can catch up.”

Elena nodded. “What’s your best friend’s name?”

You smiled. “Leticia, but I call her Leti.”

Her eyes lit up. “That’s my cousin’s name! Does she know Spanish, too?”

“She does,” you nodded and grinned. “I know some, too.”

Elena grinned. “We speak Spanish a lot! Me and daddy. But my mommy only knows English.”

“Cool. Leti helps me practice so I don’t forget.”

Elena nodded and smiled when Ursula rubbed against her leg again. “She sounds cool. I don’t have a best friend here yet.”

You were finished getting ready, so you gestured towards the living room and Elena got up to lead the way out. “Well, you just met everyone this week. I bet you’ll get to be friends soon.”

She shrugged and did a little spin before flopping onto your couch next to Ursula. “One of the boys in class tried to get Wilbur out of his cage without Mrs. Li seeing.”

You snorted. “How did that go?”

Elena rolled her eyes. It was extremely cute. “She turned around when he had his hand inside the cage and he got in trouble.”

You nodded. “Sounds about right. Did you have a favorite thing this week? Like a class or something you did?”

She screwed up her face in a thoughtful expression that made you smile. “I like our classroom. Mrs. Li said she made all of the stuff on the walls. It’s really pretty.” She thought for a moment and you waited. “I like music class. And the library.”

“Going to the library was always my favorite, too.”

You were interrupted from finding out anything else about her first week at school by a knock on your door.

“Sounds like your dad is back.” You stood and glanced through the window. Frankie was indeed standing outside your front door.

You opened it and smiled. “Welcome back.” You stepped aside to let him in but he didn’t immediately move.

“You look–” he cleared his throat and tugged off his hat with one hand, running his fingers through his hair with the other before putting it back on. “You look nice.”

You bit your lip and couldn’t help but tease him a bit. “You said that before.”

His cheeks turned pink and you smiled. “Well,” he said, smiling ruefully, “it’s still true.”

For a moment the two of you smiled at each other until Frankie cleared his throat again. “So I was going to see if you wanted to come over to have dinner with us, but I know you’re busy. What about tomorrow?” He raised his eyebrows hopefully as he stepped past you into your house.

“Tomorrow sounds great, Frankie.”

Before he could answer Elena came running around the corner and threw herself at his legs. He made a dramatic oomph noise on impact before lifting her and throwing her over his shoulder. Elena squealed, delighted, and you smiled as he turned to face you again.

“How about 5:30?” You nodded, and he winked at you as he started to carry his daughter out the door. “Anyone seen Elena? All I could find was this gremlin.” He tickled her behind her knees with one hand (while keeping a firm hold with the other) and she giggled. As he passed you she turned her head sideways and waved at you, upside down.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the picture they made crossing your lawn. “See you tomorrow!” you called, already looking forward to it.

…

You and Frankie traded dinners a few times over the next month. You went to theirs for dinner that Saturday, and then Frankie and Elena joined you at yours a few days later. And then again the next week. Elena appeared to be thriving at school, if her stories were any clue, and you were enjoying watching her settle in. Frankie seemed to be enjoying his new job as well, or so he told you when you asked about it.

On a Thursday evening about six weeks after they moved in, a knock at the door told you Frankie and Elena had probably arrived. You’d been working on dinner and expecting the two of them to arrive soon.

The knock was a bit sharper than usual, though, and you answered the door with a furrowed brow. When you saw Frankie’s face you grew more concerned. He looked worried, face drawn, hands twisting together.

“Frankie, what is it? Is everything ok?” You skipped over a greeting and stepped closer, reaching up to squeeze his bicep gently, hoping to offer some reassurance.

He smiled, but it looked more like a grimace. “I’m sorry to do this, I just got a call. I have to head back in to work. Some kind of emergency with one of the planes coming in.”

You shook your head and squeezed his arm again. “That’s ok, Frankie, it’s fine. We can reschedule.”

A little bit of the tension went out of his shoulders, but not all of it.

“Well–” he cleared his throat and glanced down before meeting your eyes again. “I was wondering if Elena could come over here, until I get back?” You started nodding, but he kept talking. “I thought the two of you could still eat, at least, and you know she’ll love seeing her best buddy.” He gestured with his chin towards Ursula and you smiled.

“Of course she can. And I’ll save you some food.”

This time his relief was almost palpable.

“Thank you, you have no idea–” he shook his head. “Thank you. I’ll be back in a few minutes with her and her things.”

Before you could say anything else, he jogged back towards his house. You tidied up around the kitchen and the living room in preparation for hosting Elena, and soon enough they were back.

“Hi!’ She chirped, crossing your threshold and walking straight up to Ursula. You smiled and looked back to find Frankie already looking at you.

“I should be back in a couple of hours. I’ll text you if anything changes.”

You nodded. “That’s fine, Frankie. Don’t rush.”

You felt more than saw him step forward and press a soft, quick kiss to your cheek. “See you soon.”

He was gone before you could react. As you watched him walk away you felt the heat flood your cheeks and you turned quickly to close the door. You leaned back against it and pressed the backs of your hands to your cheeks, taking a deep breath.

Elena popped her head around the corner and frowned at you. “What are you doing?”

You smiled and dropped your hands. “Nothing. Are you hungry?”

She nodded. “Why were you holding your face?”

You tripped in surprise but caught yourself on the door to the kitchen. “What?”

“You were holding your face like this.” She put her hands on her cheeks like you had and you smiled. “And you’re sweaty. Like daddy after he lifts something heavy.” Her tone was very matter of fact and you couldn’t help but grin.

You snorted. “Oh yeah?”

She nodded as she slid into a chair at your table. “Yep. But you didn’t pick anything up.”

You shook your head as you started to put together plates of food for both of you. “No, it just got pretty warm in here when I was cooking.”

Elena regarded you skeptically and didn’t seem convinced, but she thankfully let the subject drop.

After dinner you agreed to watch a movie – Moana, one of her favorites – and you got her to giggle and laugh so hard she got the hiccups at your impression of Hei Hei. By the time Frankie returned (just a little bit later than he’d hoped), she was asleep on the couch next to you.

His knock was so soft you almost missed it, but you managed to get over to the door and open it without waking her up.

“Hi Frankie,” you greeted him with a smile, “she’s asleep.”

He looked tired but very happy to be home. “I figured.” He sighed. “Thanks again, he–, um, thank you.”

You shrugged. “Anytime. We had fun. Got to watch Moana again.”

He groaned and rolled his eyes. “I think I see that movie playing on the back of my eyelids when I’m sleeping.”

You laughed, and then glanced back at Elena to make sure you hadn’t woken her up. “She liked my impressions.”

He raised one eyebrow at you. “Oh? Watch out, she’ll demand them every time, now that she knows.”

You smiled. “I’m used to it. Little cousins.”

Frankie nodded and stepped past you when you moved out of the way to let him in. He walked over to Elena and you remembered the food you’d set aside for him. You ran to get it and met him back at the front door, Elena in his arms.

“I saved you some dinner.” You held out the bag with tupperware and smiled. “Just have to heat it up again.”

Frankie blinked, and then smiled softly. “You didn’t have to–”

You shook your head. “It was supposed to be for you, anyway. Take it.”

He nodded and you looped the bag over the hand supporting Elena’s knees. “We’ll see you soon?” He murmured the question so as not to wake her.

You nodded and leaned against your door as he started to walk away. “You know where to find me.”

He turned to look at you over his shoulder and your breath caught at the look in his eyes. “Sure do. Good night.”

…

Over the next few weeks you watched Elena two more times but didn’t have another dinner together until Frankie, in his words, managed to pin you down for a Sunday evening. It was true that you’d been busier, but there’d been a lot of events at school that you had to be at as fall settled in.

You headed over to their house with a plate of cookies and a smile on your face. You knew you’d started to like Frankie, maybe too much, but you couldn’t help it – he was so charming, and sweet with his daughter, and capable. He’d fixed a broken faucet in your bathroom last week and you’d tried not to let it show on your face how impressed you were by the whole thing (and not a little bit turned on).

But whatever you were feeling, you were trying not to rush into it. You liked having them as neighbors, and you knew he’d want Elena to be comfortable more than anything else. And you thought he might like you, too, but neither of you had made anything resembling a move.

You knocked and the door flew open almost before you moved your hand away. Elena opened it with such force she swung with it.

“Hi!” her eyes zeroed in on the cookies in your hand and then grew. “Cookies?!” She sounded delighted and you laughed.

“Cookies!” you confirmed, and she cheered. “But dinner first, right?”

She sighed and nodded. She led the way back to the kitchen where you found Frankie at the stove wearing a bright yellow apron with daisies printed on it. You blinked.

“Is that new?” you asked, starting to grin.

Frankie rolled his eyes at you. “It was a gift, thank you.”

Elena smiled up at you and you figured you knew who the gift was from. “It looks very nice,” you told her, and she preened.

“Yellow is daddy’s favorite color.” She scooted onto one of the kitchen chairs and you joined her. “That’s why I picked that one.”

“Well it looks great on you, Frankie.” You winked at him when he turned to give you a long suffering look.

He laughed and turned back to the stove. “Sure, he– sure. You ready to eat?”

You and Elena both said “yes!” with such enthusiasm that all three of you laughed.

After dinner, Frankie prevented you from washing dishes (not yet, let’s hang out with Elena before she goes to sleep) so you found yourself on the couch with her while Frankie sat in the chair nearby. She was telling you about her new favorite movie, one you hadn’t seen yet.

“--and my favorite part is the end when they dance, her dress is sparkly and the sky is purple and they look so pretty. Daddy and I danced along but it wasn’t the same because I’m so short.” She looked put out for a moment and then perked up suddenly. “Hey you and daddy are tall! You should do it!”

You glanced at Frankie, not sure what she was asking, and blinked at how you found him, startled. He was frozen in his seat and bright red.

“What do you mean?” you asked her, tearing your eyes away from her dad.

“Look! I’ll play it and then you can do the dance right there behind the couch.” She gestured at the open area behind the couch that led into the entryway. She squinted at the TV as she fast forwarded through the movie. You could tell she’d done this many times before.

“Ok, here, look.” You watched the scene with her and had to agree that it was cute. You couldn’t help but notice that Frankie hadn’t said anything yet – he seemed to have relaxed a bit, at least. “See? I’ll play the song and you two dance and I’ll tell you what to do.”

“Frankie?” you asked, looking at him again.

He finally met your eye and smiled. “Come on, then. You know she won’t rest until we act it out.” You laughed in response and took his hand when he offered it.

Like a tiny drill sergeant, Elena arranged the two of you into the same stance as the couple on screen. You were so close you could smell him – something warm and woodsy that made you want to lean in and rest your forehead on his shoulder. You felt Frankie’s hand, large and warm against your hip, and bit your lip. “Ok remember – you have to spin! Daddy, just like we practiced.”

“Am I going to be able to do this?” you asked him under your breath.

He smiled and nodded. “When we’ve been practicing,” he said the word like it was in quotes, “we’ve just been spinning in place with a little bit of flair.”

You laughed. Ok, that didn’t sound so bad.

And Frankie was right – when the music started he led you in a small, easy circle, turning you and adding in some side-to-side movement that looked more like the movie. Elena cheered, so you figured you must be doing something right.

“Now spin, daddy!”

Frankie grinned and released you into a slow spin. He tugged you back in and you found yourself closer in his arms than before. You could feel the heat of his body along your front and your breath caught as your eyes met again. You felt something warm starting to build inside of you and when Elena whooped behind you, you both smiled.

The music swelled, and you figured the song was coming to an end. But you couldn’t look away from Frankie, and the look in his eyes turned into something warm, something more intent. Something that made the moment around you feel slow and syrupy. You felt a shiver move up your spine and wondered if he could feel it, with you wrapped in his arms like this.

The music hit the crescendo and you felt breathless as Frankie spun the both of you around one more time. You stumbled as you came to a stop and he tugged you closer to keep you upright. You found yourself with your chest almost brushing his and your faces only inches away from each other. You could lean in, if you wanted, and brush your lips right–

You jumped a little as Elena’s voice came suddenly from your left, excited with her final stage direction.

“And then they kiss!” she shouted.

Before you could react in any way, before you could do anything other than process her words, you felt Frankie’s lips press gently against the corner of your mouth.

Both of you froze as Elena cheered louder than you’d ever heard her. As she started proclaiming how well you did, and how it was just like the movie, Frankie leaned slowly back to meet your gaze. He looked worried, studying your reaction, eyes sweeping over your face.

But his worry didn’t last long. You had no idea what expression you were wearing but whatever it was seemed to reassure him. A slow smile spread across his face at the same time as an answering one took over yours.

Grinning, Frankie tensed the hand he had around your waist and leaned just a tiny bit closer. You sucked in a quick breath and he smirked when he felt it. He opened his mouth to say something and your eyes dropped, not wanting to miss it.

“That was amazing!” Elena cried, suddenly wrapping her arms around both of you. “Can we do it again?”

Frankie laughed and released you. You stepped back, a little bit dazed. “No, mija, you know what time it is.”

“Awww, daddy!” She pouted a little and you tried not to smile.

“‘Lena, we can dance another time. Come on, say goodnight.” He rubbed her back a bit in consolation and she sighed.

“Next time,” you promised. She smiled a little and nodded.

“Good night!” Elena waved and headed upstairs.

Frankie turned to you and you felt his fingers catch against your own. “I’ll be right back, hermosa.” His voice was deeper than usual and you shivered again. This time you knew he saw it when his eyes darkened. “Don’t go anywhere.”

You shook your head. “I’ll be right here, Frankie.”

He hesitated for a moment, and then shrugged when he heard Elena calling for him. “10 minutes, max.”

As he reached the top of the stairs, you thought you heard Elean say, “Daddy, it work–” but he cut her off with a shushing sound. You shook your head and headed into the kitchen to do the dishes while you waited.

You let yourself sink into the memory of Frankie’s arms around you and couldn’t keep the smile off your face as you cleaned up the kitchen. It seemed like the two of you were on the same page, after all. As you washed the dishes, you replayed the feeling of his hand on your waist, his hand in yours, his guidance through the dance. His arm slipping around you to catch you, and the brief press of his lips against the edge of yours.

You were so caught up in the moment you didn’t hear him come back.

You startled and almost flung the sponge in the air when two large, now familiar hands came to rest on your hips. You felt Frankie lean into you and the brush of his mustache as he murmured in your ear, “you didn’t have to clean up, hermosa.” He nuzzled his nose against your neck and you sighed, letting your head fall to the side to give him more room.

“You knew I would.” You felt his smile against your neck and you shivered again. His smile grew wider.

“Dance with me again, hermosa.” He squeezed your hips and you sucked in a sharp breath.

“Frankie–”

“Please?” He pressed a soft kiss to the skin behind your ear. “Dance with me. Without the peanut gallery, this time.”

You laughed and nodded, quickly rinsing your hands so you could turn in his arms. When you did he was close, so close, close enough to kiss again.

“Hi,” you whispered, breathless.

“Hi,” he murmured, smiling.

“I’d love to dance with you, Frankie.” You lifted your hands and rested them gently on his chest.

He swayed forward but stepped back, taking your hands in his. “C’mere, then.”

Frankie walked backward and led you into the open space behind the couch again. He quickly queued up a song on his phone and set it on the low table next to the couch. Soft, slow music started to play as he pulled you back into his arms. Much, much closer this time.

You found yourself with your arms around his neck and his around your waist. His eyes were dark and intent and you could almost read the desire in them.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a while,” he admitted, smoothing a hand up your back.

“Dance?” you teased, smiling.

“Well,” he said, smirking, “I do like dancing with you.” He spun the two of you a bit and you gasped. “But I meant, well. I’ve been wanting to tell you. To ask you out.”

You bit your lip and started playing with his hair at the nape of his neck. “Yeah?”

He nodded and his eyes dropped to your mouth. “What do you think? Can I take you out, hermosa?”

You smiled, wide. “Yes, Frankie.” You hesitated, and you watched his brow furrow in response. “Is, um, what about Elena? Is this ok?”

Frankie smiled softly at you. “Hermosa, this?” He moved one of his hands to squeeze your hip and tugged you closer. “This was all her master plan.”

Your jaw dropped. “What? What do you mean?”

He looked a bit sheepish and his cheeks turned pink. “Well, she knew I liked you. She’s been teasing me about it – apparently I look at you like one of the characters in her movies. And I talk about you a lot.” You laughed, charmed. “So she said I had to do something romantic. The dance was her idea, we’ve been practicing. I didn’t mean to kiss you, though. I mean, I wanted to kiss you. I–” he cleared his throat, suddenly much pinker. You smiled at him encouragingly. “We’ve been practicing with a kiss on the cheek. I just, it was habit, but then I wasn’t sure what you’d think, or if that was ok–”

“It was more than ok, Frankie.” you interrupted, and he smiled, relieved. You ran your thumb up and down the back of his neck and grinned when he shivered. “I can’t believe Elena was the mastermind of this whole thing.”

“She likes you,” he said with another soft smile. You were starting to get attached to the way he smiled at you. “So yeah. To answer your question, it’s ok with Elena.”

You bit your lip on a smirk and said, aiming for an innocent tone, “you know, maybe we should practice again. Make sure we get it right for next time.”

He tilted his head. “What, the dance?”

You shook your head and let yourself grin at him again. “No, not the whole thing. I was thinking we could just practice the ending again.”

Frankie grinned at you and pulled you closer in his arms until you were pressed against him. The warmth of his body made your breath catch in your throat. “Hermosa, I would love to practice with you.”

You tangled your hands in his hair and leaned in, but Frankie met you halfway. This time when his lips met yours you were right there with him.

As he moved his mouth gently against yours, you felt yourself sinking into the steady warmth of Frankie, sinking deep into his embrace. He hummed against your mouth and you opened for him, deepening the kiss. The gentle touch of his tongue against your own drew a soft whine from the back of your throat. Frankie’s grasp on your hips tightened and you were suddenly aware of the press of his hips against your own.

You didn’t know when or how he moved but you felt the back of the couch suddenly against your thighs and propped yourself up on it so that he could step between your legs.

Frankie groaned when his hips came to rest against yours. You felt his cock, warm and huge in his jeans, and let out a moan of your own.

“Shit,” he murmured, pulling away and dropping his forehead against your shoulder. “We can’t, hermosa, not with Elena upstairs.”

You nodded. He was right. “Ok, let me–” you took a deep breath, “why don’t we sit on the couch? Less kissing, more talking?”

He laughed and agreed. Once you were on the couch, though, he tugged you close so that you sat with your legs across his lap and his arm around your waist.

“When can I take you out, hermosa?” he ran his fingers up and down your calves over your clothes and you sank into his embrace again.

“How’s Friday?”

He nodded. “Perfect. Elena’s mom will be here, she’ll have her the whole weekend.”

“Oh!” You sat a little straighter. “Is this the first time she’ll be in town?”

“Yep,” he confirmed. “Elena’s over the moon with excitement.”

You laughed. “I bet. That’s great.”

He smiled at you. “So, 7 on Friday, hermosa?”

You nodded, but decided to finally ask about the pet name. “You’ve been calling me that since you kissed me.”

Frankie looked a bit sheepish again. It was charming. “Well, I’ve been wanting to call you that for a while. Almost did a few times, not just recently. Feels like I’m finally allowed. You are beautiful, you know. So fucking beautiful.” He leaned forward to kiss you, gently. “Almost said it that night you were going out with Leti. Way too soon.”

It was your turn to look sheepish. “When I saw you through the window when you were moving in I said ‘shit, he’s so hot’ out loud. To myself. And Ursula, I guess.”

Frankie laughed, a bit incredulous. “You think I’m hot?”

You furrowed your brow at him. “Frankie. You are hot. So fucking hot.”

He turned pink again, and you smiled and pressed a kiss to his warm cheek. As you pulled back he turned and caught you in another kiss. You felt yourself getting carried away again and leaned back.

“I should go home. Have to get up early tomorrow.”

He sighed and nodded with a wistful smile. “I know. Let me walk you out.”

At the door, Frankie leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips one more time and then pressed his forehead against yours. “Can’t wait for our date, hermosa.”

“Me neither.” You slipped your arms around him in a tight hug. “Tell Elena she did a good job with the plan.” He laughed and you grinned. You said good night, and when you reached your front door and looked back, you found Frankie leaning against his own front door watching you. He smiled and waved and you stepped inside with the grin still on your face.

…

You ran into Frankie and Elena a few times during the week, but you were all busy and there wasn’t a lot of time to talk (or visit Ursula). You were thankful for your upcoming date and the guaranteed time you’d have with Frankie all to yourself.

He knocked on your door at 7pm sharp on Friday evening. You were scrambling on the other side of it to put on your shoes and grab your bag. When you found yourself hopping in place you paused, took a deep breath, and put your shoes on as calmly as you could.

By the time you opened the front door he’d been waiting for a few minutes and had his hand raised to knock again.

“Hi, sorry, I was just putting my shoes on.” You released the whole sentence in one breath and then smiled, sheepishly.

Frankie was frozen with his hand raised. He blinked and dropped it and smiled back at you. You swore you felt his eyes as he swept them over your outfit. “Hi there. You look gorgeous.”

You felt your cheeks heat and bit your lip. His outfit finally registered and you noticed he was wearing dark jeans, a dark red button up, and no hat. His curls were tousled and your fingers twitched with the desire to touch. “I like your outfit, Frankie.”

“Yeah?” He tugged at one of his cuffs. “Elena helped me pick it out.”

You grinned. “She has good taste, then. You look handsome.” You stepped outside and turned to lock the door. When you turned back towards Frankie, he hadn’t moved far and was only a few inches away. You leaned in to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

He smiled and you felt his hand slide over your lower back. “Ready to go, hermosa?”

“Lead the way.”

Frankie guided you to his car and opened the door for you. Soon enough you were on your way, turned slightly in the passenger seat to watch him drive. It was a nice view.

“So, where to?”

He glanced over at you and when he found you looking, he turned a little bit pink. “One of my coworkers told me about this little Indonesian place across town, next to the river. Have you been?”

You sat up straighter, excited. “No! It’s new. I’ve been meaning to go.”

He grinned. “No? Good. Well, then we can try it together.”

You leaned back into your seat and smiled as Frankie started to tell you about his week at work. It sounded like his classes were going well. He’d told you back when you met that he was worried about teaching, and had even asked for some tips. But it sounded like he was doing a pretty good job. (And you knew he’d been reading about teaching when he could.)

The conversation carried you through the ride and into the restaurant, which was small with cozy tables and warm lighting. When Frankie gave his name the host led you to a small table in the back corner that had a “reserved” sign on it.

“This place is cute,” you observed. Frankie nodded, smiling.

After you both took a minute to look at the menu and order, Frankie reached across the table to tangle your fingers together lightly. “I’m glad you said yes to this date, hermosa.”

“Me too, Frankie.” You squeezed his fingers and he smiled.

“I wanted to ask for a while. Almost from the beginning. That first night you had us for dinner I almost blurted it out, but Elena interrupted.”

You smiled, slow, and he watched. “I would have said yes.”

He blinked. “Even then? I figured I’d have to show you I wasn’t a total mess, first.”

You tilted your head and frowned a bit. “Frankie, I’ve never thought you were a mess. You’re… well. I think you’re great.” You bit your lip and watched as his expression turned soft.

“Yeah?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

“Well, I think you’re amazing. You’re so smart, and funny, and you’re amazing with Elena. She’s been saying she wants to be a teacher when she grows up, you know.”

You raised your eyebrows, surprised. “Really?” He nodded. “Didn’t she say she wants to be a pilot, like, last week?”

Frankie laughed, and you grinned. “She did. But that’s just her backup career. It’s the one she says when she isn’t sure, I think.”

You rolled your eyes. “Maybe she really does want to.”

He shrugged. “Could be. She can do whatever she wants. I’m not pushing anything.”

You smiled at him again. The arrival of your food interrupted and for a moment you sat in comfortable silence, other than commenting on how delicious it was.

“How’s Elena doing with operation BFF?” You and Frankie had started calling it that when you told him about your conversation about best friends, and after seeing Elena’s clear focus on finding one. It was very cute.

Frankie laughed. “Well, she’s been hanging out more with Anil and Min. Apparently the three of them have the same favorite movie, so that’s been important somehow.” You smiled. “But my money is still on Mateo. They are both way too into having a ‘secret language.’ Even if they’re not the only ones in the room who speak Spanish. I watched them on the field trip the other week, just constantly whispering to each other.”

You nodded. “I can see that. It’s probably also comforting to be able to switch if she wants to.”

He smiled and shook his head. “But she also told me they’ve been teaching some of the others during recess. So maybe a not-so-secret language.”

You smiled at the mental image of Elena teaching some of the other kids in her class on the playground. “That’s pretty adorable. She would think of something like that, I can totally see it.”

Frankie grinned down at his plate. “She surprises me every day. I have no idea where she gets it from.”

You rested your chin in your hand as you gazed at him across the table. “Frankie, she gets it from you.” You tried not to let your tone say “duh” but it was difficult.

His head lifted quickly and he met your eyes, clearly surprised. “Gets what?”

You smiled and reached across the table with your free hand to tangle your fingers together again. “That kindness, that makes her want to teach her friends her secret language. The initiative and drive to do something like that herself. Her curiosity and joy in new experiences that make operation BFF something exciting instead of something stressful. She gets all of those things from you. I can see all of them in the way you are with her and your students and everything else.” You squeezed his fingers and watched as his blush bloomed from his cheeks down his neck.

Frankie ducked his head, but after a moment he peeked up again to meet your gaze. “You really think so?” His tone was tentative, and you felt something clench around your heart at this man who was so wonderful but seemed to have no idea.

“I do, Frankie. I really do.”

He lifted his free hand to trail his fingers down the side of your face and then your arm, which was still propping up your chin. “I’ll try to believe you.” You smiled, and his answering smile made something warm start to burn inside you. “I don’t know what I did to get so lucky as to move next door to you, hermosa.”

You felt your own cheeks heat and bit your lip. Whatever response you might have made was interrupted by the server returning to clear your table. You leaned back from each other and let Frankie grab the check (while extracting a promise that you could pay next time).

You stepped out of the restaurant into a lovely, warm evening. The fireflies were starting to come out and for a moment you simply admired the atmosphere. When you looked at Frankie you found him already looking at you.

“Do you want to walk around a bit? I know there’s a park on the next block.” You nodded, smiling at the suggestion and the idea that neither of you were ready for this to end quite yet. Frankie slid his arm around your waist as he turned to start walking. Your attention narrowed to the warm feeling of his hand on your hip and his thumb as it moved gently back and forth over your clothes.

When he said something, it took a moment for you to respond. “Sorry, what?” Your cheeks burned.

He grinned. “I asked, are you going to be at the PTA fundraising thing next weekend?”

“Oh!” You nodded. “Yes, all the teachers are, pretty much. Did you buy a ticket?” He nodded. “Great. Maybe I can get us seated together.”

Frankie winked at you and you felt something flutter in your chest. “You wanna sit with me?”

You nudged him with your elbow. “Of course I do.”

“Good,” he replied, tucking you closer into his side as you turned into the small park. “Because I definitely want to sit with you.”

You laughed. “It’ll probably be more fun that way. It’s not a bad event, but it can be sort of boring. Lots of speeches about all the good things the district is doing so people will volunteer or donate more. And then the auction of the different projects from the classrooms at the elementary school.”

He nodded. “Elena told me about theirs. Apparently it’s snake themed.” He shuddered dramatically and you grinned.

“Well, you’re obviously going to bid on that one,” you teased, and let out a tiny squeak when he stopped and tugged you to stand in front of him. His hands came to rest on your hips and you realized he’d navigated the two of you under a large tree, just off the path.

He smiled. “I promised Elena I would, but I’m going to bid low on purpose. Don’t tell her.”

You nodded and tried to look serious instead of laughing. “I promise I won’t tell your daughter that you intentionally did not win her class project.”

Frankie squinted at you. “Hmm ok. Let’s say I believe you.”

You laughed, and his answering grin drew your eyes like a magnet.

“You know, Elena told me I should pick you up in a limo for this date.”

“You’re kidding,” you said, laughing again. “Why?”

He shrugged and squeezed your hips. “Apparently that’s the most romantic thing I could do. She was mad when I didn’t.”

You smiled. “Well, you can tell her I didn’t need a limo. I think you’re pretty romantic without it.”

“Yeah?” He asked, one side of his mouth lifting in a smile.

You nodded, swaying a bit closer to him.

“Hey, hermosa,” he started, voice teasing, and you tilted your head at him curiously. “Can I kiss you?”

You grinned. “Frankie, you don’t have to ask.”

He leaned in with a little smirk playing around his mouth. “Good to know,” he murmured just before his lips met yours.

It was just as good as the night at his house, when you’d danced and cuddled on his couch. No, it was better.

His lips pressed softly against yours and you lost yourself in the gentle sensation. He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around you. You slid your palms up his chest and around his neck, tangling your fingers in his loose curls. He moaned when you tugged lightly and you felt a shiver run up your spine.

You opened to him and suddenly the kiss went from soft (and safe for public consumption) to heady (and edging towards too much for a public park). Frankie slid his hand down to cup your ass and you broke the kiss on a gasp.

“Frankie–” you sighed his name as he pressed a soft line of kisses down your neck. “I think we should get out of here before we get in trouble for public indecency. Or we run into any of my students.”

He snorted against your shoulder and you grinned.

“Sorry, hermosa,” he murmured, lips still touching your skin. “Couldn’t help myself.”

He lifted his head to meet your eyes again, and you smiled as you took in his reddened lips and heavy lidded eyes. “Take me home, Frankie.”

He raised his eyebrows in question, and you nodded. He still asked, “home? To your home?”

You smiled and slid your hand down to tangle with his. “Yours, mine. Whichever one you’d like.”

Frankie grinned and started to lead the way back to his car. “Let’s go to yours, baby. I’ve got my phone if they need me.”

The two of you almost jogged back down the sidewalk, giggling when you ran into each other as Frankie maneuvered around a light pole. When you got to his car you were both grinning widely. He crowded you against the passenger door and pressed his smile of yours.

“Come on, Frankie,” you whispered against his mouth. “Take me home.”

He hummed and pressed his forehead against yours. “Whatever you want, hermosa.”

The tension only built higher in the car. Frankie drove with his left hand while his right stayed firmly clasped with yours on your thigh. Every few seconds he would glance at you and you watched with great interest as his eyes darkened.

When you pulled into his driveway, you were out of the car and moving towards your front door before he managed to get out. You looked back at him and smiled and he laughed. He jogged to catch up with you in front of your door, slipping his arms around you from behind and kissing your neck.

“In a hurry, hermosa?”

You smiled again as you unlocked the door. “Maybe just in a hurry to get inside where I can kiss you as much as I want.”

He hummed in agreement as the two of you stepped through your door. As soon as it shut behind you he turned you around and pressed you back into it. “Hi there,” he murmured against your mouth.

You smiled into the kiss. “Hi Frankie.” He deepened the kiss and you welcomed it, falling into the feeling of Frankie and nothing else.

His hands came to rest on your hips again as he stepped closer. You could feel the heat of him all down your front and sighed as you let your head fall back against the door. He worked his way down your neck with firm kisses and a bit of teeth.

“Can I make you feel good, hermosa?” He squeezed your hips as he worried a small mark inside of your neckline.

“Yes, Frankie,” you breathed, tangling your hands in his hair.

He pressed forward with his hips and you felt again how hard and big his cock was in his pants. “Can I use my mouth on you? Please, baby. I’ll make it so good for you.”

You gasped at the sudden mental image of Frankie on his knees in front of you, that smirk winding you up as he leaned forward. “Yes, Frankie,” your voice was thin and breathy and you felt him smile into your neck. “Please, yes.”

He slid his hands from your hips and tugged yours from his hair so he could tangle your fingers together. He started to walk backwards and you followed easily, kicking off your shoes by the door. “Come sit on the couch for me, bebita.” His eyes were locked on yours as he guided you to sit. When he knelt in front of you, you whimpered.

“Look at you,” he murmured, eyes sweeping over you as you sucked in a sharp breath. “So fucking beautiful.” He slid his hands up your legs and over your hips with a smirk. “You know that, right? You’re beautiful.”

You bit your lip and smiled. “I– I like it when you tell me,” you said, feeling a bit shy.

He deftly unfastened your pants and began to slide them down your hips with your underwear, guiding you to lift up your hips and ease the way. “You’re so beautiful.” He began pressing kisses along your thighs as they were revealed. “Can’t wait to see every part of you.” He nipped lightly at your thigh and you gasped. “Been dreaming about this.”

“Dreaming?” You repeated, head swimming from the feeling of his lips and his words.

“Dreaming,” he repeated as he tossed your pants behind him, “of the way your pussy tastes, bebita. Of making you fall apart on my tongue.”

Your hands clenched in the fabric of your couch at his words and your mouth fell open. “Fuck,” you whispered, and he grinned.

“C’mere, hermosa. Legs open.” He tapped your left thigh and you let your legs fall open to either side of him. His eyes locked on your pussy and darkened. “I knew it. So fucking pretty.”

Without hesitating, Frankie leaned forward and licked a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit. You moaned.

“That’s right. Let me hear you, bebita.” You felt his lips move and the vibration of his deep voice against your pussy and moaned again. He hummed and dove back in with enthusiasm.

Frankie pressed an open mouth kiss to your entrance, teasing around it with his tongue. When your hips twitched forward he took the invitation and slipped his tongue inside. He slowly thrust it forward once, and then twice, lips closed over your pussy. Your head fell back against the couch at the feeling of his tongue slipping inside of you, at the obvious pleasure he took in the act when he moaned. You could feel the vibration inside and gasped.

He slipped his tongue from inside you and licked upwards towards your clit. You felt his fingers start to tease around your entrance at the same moment his tongue started to circle your clit, and you threaded your fingers through his hair.

“Frankie,” you sighed, overwhelmed. “Yes, shit, Frankie–” you cut yourself off with another moan as he slipped two fingers inside of you and curled them upwards just right.

You began to lose yourself in the feeling of his fingers thrusting inside of you and his tongue working your clit expertly, devastatingly well. You felt a tingling at the base of your spine that climbed up your back. Your hands twisted in his hair as you felt yourself hurtling towards the cliff you knew awaited you, so close and coming closer.

He twisted his fingers and pressed his tongue firmly to your clit and your back arched off the couch. “Frankie, I’m–” You tried to warn him, but it was already there, you were already teetering over the edge of the cliff when he closed his lips around your clit and gently sucked.

Your eyes flew open as you fell over the edge and you keened his name, gripping his hair and almost pressing his face into your pussy as your orgasm swept over you. As it rushed from you your arms fell limp at your sides and you stared at the ceiling as you started to come back to yourself.

You felt something come to rest against your hip and, with great effort, looked down to find Frankie grinning smugly at you, lips and chin wet and glistening.

“You are so fucking beautiful when you come, cariño.” His voice was deeper than usual and you shivered.

“H–” you tried to talk but had to clear your throat. You took a deep breath and tried again. “Holy shit, Frankie. You are really fucking good at that.”

You watched, charmed, as his nose crinkled with the size of his grin.

“Yeah?” He asked, but you could tell he knew he was good at it. You poked him in the shoulder.

“Yes, Frankie.” You bit your lip. “C’mere, handsome.” You tugged on his shirt until he moved, pulling him up and over you on the couch. You both turned until you were lying down with him above you and you tugged him into a deep kiss.

He thrust down against you and you realized you were both still clothed, other than your pants. You smiled and broke the kiss. “Take your pants off, Frankie.”

He smiled down at you. “Only if you take your shirt off, hermosa.”

You laughed. “Ok, new deal – no more clothes allowed. And maybe we move this to the bed.”

Frankie grinned and nodded. He stood and tugged you up alongside him, catching you with a firm arm around your waist. You could feel his cock still hard in his pants and smiled into a quick kiss.

The two of you stayed tangled together as you walked towards your bedroom, giggling occasionally when you tripped over something or bumped into a wall. Each time he was there to catch you, strong arms holding you up.

By the time you reached your bed you were naked, and Frankie let his shirt drop to the floor just before he crawled over you. Your eyes roamed over his naked torso, and you opened your mouth to compliment him when you caught sight of his cock and froze, mouth wide.

He followed your gaze and preened, just a bit.

“Jesus, Frankie,” you breathed. “You’re fucking big.”

You met his eyes again and saw that he was grinning. “It’s ok, bebita.” He leaned forward to press a quick kiss to your lips. “I promise it’ll fit.” A shiver ran up your spine and you swore you felt yourself somehow get even wetter than before.

“I was going to say,” you started as he leaned closer, hovering over you on his elbow, “you are so hot, Frankie.” You ran your hands from his broad shoulders down his sides and reached around to grip his ass with one.

He blushed again and you smiled at the juxtaposition of his easy confidence about his skills in the bedroom and his shy response to any compliments about his looks.

“It’s true,” you insisted. “You’re hot. Deal with it.”

He laughed, and hid his face in your neck. His cock brushed against your pussy when he moved and you sucked in a sharp breath.

“Well,” he pressed a kiss to the spot where your shoulder met your neck, and you tilted your head to the side to give him more room. He continued, lips brushing against your skin, “you’re so beautiful it takes my breath away. Clothes or no clothes.” He brought his free hand up to run his fingers lightly over your chest as he spoke and you sighed. His fingers slipped lower until they brushed over your slit. “Let me in, bebita.” You opened your legs for him again and he smiled against your neck. “Just like that.”

His fingers teased at your clit before sliding down to tease at your entrance, and you sighed when he slipped two inside of you. “Gotta make sure you’re ready,” he murmured, moving back up to capture your lips in a kiss. You met him eagerly, opening your mouth to tangle your tongues together. His hips thrust forward and his cock nudged against your thigh.

Frankie broke the kiss and took a deep breath. “You’re so wet, bebita.” He twisted his fingers inside of you and your eyes fluttered shut. “Just for me?”

You nodded, and he let out a soft moan. “Fuck, hermosa.” He kissed you again, hard and quick. “Wanted this for so long, and now you’re here, fuck–” He ducked his head to rest against your shoulder and you tangled your fingers in his hair again. He hummed.

“Wanted this too, Frankie,” you tilted your hips and felt his cock slide against your thigh again. “Want you inside me.”

He shivered and you felt his cock twitch where it was trapped between you. You grinned.

“Condom?” He rasped, lifting his head up to catch your gaze.

You bit your lip and his eyes dropped down to watch. His fingers thrust into you again and you sighed.

“I’m on birth control,” you started, and he groaned.

“You sure? I haven’t had sex in, well. A while. And I had to get a full work up and physical for this job.” His slid his fingers from inside you slowly and your hips chased them. He smiled.

“I’m sure, Frankie.” You smiled at each other until Frankie shook his head and began to move. He centered himself between your open legs and his cock slid over your pussy, making you gasp.

“Ay, cariño,” he moaned, eyes falling shut. “You feel so fucking good.”

You tilted your hips and on his next thrust the head of his cock caught on your entrance. Frankie’s moan mixed with your own.

“Ready?” He leaned down to kiss you and you nodded into the kiss.

“Yes, Frankie.”

He captured your mouth again as the head of his cock slipped inside of you. Your hands flew up and around him again, one tangling in his hair and the other grasping at his back. His cock slid forward slowly but steadily and you lost yourself in the stretch, in all of the ways he was touching you, with his body and his cock and his mouth.

When he bottomed out, you were already floating upwards towards another peak.

He broke the kiss, breath heaving as he stopped moving with his cock fully inside of you. “You feel so good, bebita. Fuck.” You could hear the strain of staying so still in his voice and your pussy clenched around him. He shivered.

“You’re so big, Frankie,” you murmured into his ear. “Feels like you’re everywhere.”

He pressed a smile to your cheek and then your neck behind your ear. “That’s where I want you, bebita,” he broke off to nip at your neck, “everywhere.”

Frankie started to move, slowly, pulling backwards until just the head of his cock was inside of you. When he thrust forward again you moaned. You opened your eyes (when had you shut them?) to find him watching your face as he found a slow but devastating rhythm. He smiled, slow. “You’re so fucking amazing,” he said, tone full of wonder. “You’re beautiful on my cock, bebita. And you’re taking me so well.” He thrust forward again and you gasped.

“You feel so good, Frankie.” You had to tell him, too, you wanted him to know how good he felt inside of you, how good he was making you feel. “I’ve never–” He thrust forward again, eyes dancing over your face, and your breath hitched. “It’s never felt so good.”

He fell forward to kiss you again, and you began to move in unison, both chasing the feeling you knew was waiting just out of reach. It started to climb up your spine again, started to tingle through your body and you broke the kiss. “I’m close, Frankie–” he kissed you again, cutting you off.

“I know. I can feel it.” He pressed his forehead to yours as you both worked towards your climaxes. “Just like that, shit.” Frankie reached down to tug your leg up around his hip. It changed the angle just enough that his next thrust sent sparks dancing over your skin. “Come on, baby. Give it to me. Please.”

Your breath caught and on his next thrust, you came. You reached the peak and toppled over the other side, arms tightening around him, pussy clenching around his cock. You felt the muscles in your torso tense and the strength of your orgasm as it swept through your body. You were breathing hard when you came back to yourself, to the sound of Frankie’s voice in your ear coaxing you through it.

“Just like that, hermosa. Fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful. The way you come, fuck, never seen anything better, never felt so good.” His hips sped up and you clutched at him, urging him on.

“Frankie,” you breathed his name, and felt him shudder. “Come for me, handsome. I want to feel you.”

Your words tipped him over the edge and on his next thrust you felt it, watched his face as he tipped over the edge. Your eyes danced over his expression, not wanting to miss a single moment.

You both breathed hard for a moment, quiet, until Frankie’s eyes opened and found yours.

“Cariño,” he breathed, starting to smile. “That was amazing.”

You smiled, feeling some warm emotion start to fill your chest at the wonder in his voice. “It was so good, Frankie.”

He grinned so wide his nose crinkled, and you decided that was your favorite of his smiles. The one so big he couldn’t hold in the joy.

He leaned down to kiss you gently and slid his cock from inside of you as carefully as he could. You still gasped, lightly, when he slipped from you completely. He pressed a soothing kiss to your lips. “Let me get you cleaned up.” He was up and in your bathroom before you could blink, returning just as quickly with a warm washcloth and a soft smile.

Soon you were tucked into your sheets, legs tangled with Frankie’s, head resting on his chest. His hand rested lightly on your head and your arm looped securely around his waist.

“Frankie,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to his chest. He hummed in response. “This was the best first date of my life.”

You knew he was smiling without looking up to check. He leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Mine too, hermosa.” He kissed you again. “Not to get ahead of myself, but–” he cut himself off abruptly and didn’t continue. Curious, you lifted your head to catch his eye. He looked happy but a little wary.

“What is it?” you leaned forward to kiss him encouragingly and he smiled.

“Well,” he kissed you again. “I was just thinking. Elena is going to be so smug when she realizes her plan got us together.” He swallowed, looking a little hesitant. “I mean–”

“Together?” You interrupted, and he nodded, expression a little shy. You smiled. “I like the sound of that.”

Frankie grinned, wide, your favorite smile spreading across his face again. “Good.” He tugged you closer again. “Me too.”

...

a/n: let me know what you think? and let me know if you don't want to be on the tag list going forward. 🧡

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#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales smut #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #triple frontier fic #frankie morales fic #francisco catfish morales #and then they kiss fic #x reader

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moonlightspencie · 7 months

Text

you should see the things we do, baby

Description: Remus and Reader decide to take advantage of teasing Sirius, and it leads to a lot more than a dirty dream. (Part 2 to this drabble)

Pairing: Remus Lupin x fem!Reader x Sirius Black (not wolfstar unless you count a few comments from sirius lol)

Warnings: oh boy (18+ only!): p in v, oral (fem receiving), threesome and a trip to paris, big dick!remus, teasing, kind of dom!remus, sirius is shy for once

Word Count: 5.2k words

A/N: this was supposed to be a DRABBLE. also i don’t write smut like ever so pls be nice to me

A week had passed, and Sirius’ embarrassment had yet to subside. In fact, it was only made worse as he had two more dreams with a very similar subject matter.

It was terrible. It was exhilarating.

Sirius had never had problems finding someone to satisfy his needs whenever they arose, but dreaming of you caused a whole new slew of problems. It seemed like no matter what he did or who he tried to flirt with, you were still on his mind.

It was made far worse by the fact that Remus knew about his dirty little secret and had been relentlessly teasing him about it. Every chance he got, he’d show you off or pack on the PDA in front of poor Sirius, chuckling into your skin when the usually-suave Sirius would turn pink and need to look away.

Your suspicions in all of this only grew.

You sat with Remus in the bedroom he had at the place he shared with Sirius. So far, you’d only been reading side-by-side, everything being fairly innocent. That is, until an idea popped into your head.

“Love?”

Remus hummed in question.

“What’s going on with Siri lately? I know something is up.”

Remus shrugged, not putting his book down. “Not sure, darling.”

You narrowed your eyes, setting your book down on the nightstand. You turned to look at him more fully.

“I don’t like when you lie to me.”

He huffed. “Darling, it’s really nothing. You don’t need to worry about it.”

“But I am worried,” you whined. “He’s been acting so strangely around me lately. I know that you know what’s happened, too.”

“How do you know that?” he asked with a soft smile, finally setting his book off to the side.

“Because I know you, my dear,” you said, nuzzling into his neck. “Please tell me?”

“I can’t, love,” he responded, a hand coming to rest on your back.

You groaned, lifting your face. You set a hand on his thigh, rubbing against his leg softly. You pressed a soft kiss to his jaw.

“Baby, please? I’ll make it worth your while.”

He smirked. “Yeah?”

You nodded with an innocent smile, moving your hand up his leg slowly.

“Promise.”

“You say that like I’m not the one who’d have you begging for it in a minute,” he said, voice suddenly low and gravely.

You swallowed, knowing he was right, but unwilling to admit defeat just yet. You merely turned, pouting to yourself as you pulled your hands away. Then, you hid a smirk as a new idea came into your head.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” you said, standing suddenly and moving towards the bathroom door.

You turned on the faucet to let the water heat up, walking back into Remus’ bedroom and straight to his closet. You started undressing, only taking one of his shirts off the hanger for after your shower once you were fully bare in front of him. You hadn’t yet turned around, reaching for a towel, but you could feel his eyes on you.

You sent him an innocent smile as you walked past the bed, right back into the bathroom with the door wide open. If he could hide things from you, you figured you could tease him as much as you’d like.

“You can join me if you want to spill the truth, love,” you called out, turning on the shower head and stepping under the stream.

It was a while before you finally heard him get off the bed, and a smile spread to your face. You heard the curtain open, not bothering to look in his direction.

“Don’t even think about coming in here unless you’re going to tell me what’s happened.”

“Darling. You’re being unfair.”

“I’m being perfectly fair,” you said, turning to him at last.

You had to admit, it was hard to turn him down when he was stripped down in front of you, asking to get in the shower alongside you. Few things sounded better than getting your hands all over his pretty body under the shower stream. But one of those few things just happened to be knowing that secret the boys were keeping from you. You shook your head at him when he pouted at you.

“All you have to do is tell me what’s wrong,” you shrugged nonchalantly.

He swallowed, looking you up and down.

“If I tell, you have to promise you won’t say anything to Pads.”

You smirked. “Whatever you say, love.”

He hopped in, shutting the curtain behind him with a cheesy grin, pulling you in for a heated kiss immediately. You let him have that, kissing him back, feeling him grow harder against your stomach from the contact. You sucked his lip into your mouth, letting it go with a pop.

“Tell me, then we keep going, yeah?”

“Siri had a sex dream about you. Feels real awkward about it, now.”

You raised a brow. “That’s it?”

He nodded. “But he’s terribly embarrassed about it. It’s why he’s been acting like that with you. Doesn’t know how to act now.”

“Why not?”

“Well, speaking from experience, darling,” he started, pressing another kiss to your lips, “once you get the picture of you all bare and begging in your head, it’s hard to get it out.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I find it hard to believe I’d have that strong an effect on anyone. Especially from a dream.”

“You’d be surprised,” he mumbled, capturing your lips again.

He let his hand trail down your body, rubbing at that little bundle of nerves in the way that made your knees weak instantly. He knew your body better than anyone, and he loved proving it to you over and over again. You tried to get into it, holding onto him tightly, but you found yourself preoccupied with questions.

“What is it, baby?” Remus asked against your neck, leaving soft kisses to your skin. “You’re distracted.”

“Just confused, is all, Rem,” you said, a little breathless from the contact he was making.

He hummed. “Why? You thinking about what it’d be like getting fucked by Sirius, now?”

You scoffed. “No. Just wanna know why it’s such a big deal for him.”

“You’re gorgeous, doll,” he said, letting out a small noise at your hand around his cock. “Surprised it took him this long to realize he’d like a go at you.”

You sighed, a whimper leaving you as his hand moved faster. He was clearly enjoying every bit of this.

“Sounds like you like the idea of it,” you quipped.

He chuckled lowly, bucking his hips into your hand. Your head fell against the tile in the shower, though he didn’t let you rest for long. He pulled away from your hand, lining himself up with your entrance instead.

“Maybe I do.”

He pushed inside of you, picking you up and pushing you against the shower wall as he rammed his hips into yours.

“Maybe I like the idea of watching you squirm on my cock with Sirius down your throat. Using that pretty mouth of yours,” he groaned into your ear. “Let him get a little preview of what it’s like to be with you in real life— not just in his dreams, yeah?”

You whined, the effect of his words making you plummet towards your climax at a rapid speed. He slapped your clit quickly, making your body jerk.

“You can pretend you don’t like that idea, but I can feel you clenching around me when I talk about it,” he said, looking you in the eye again with a mischievous grin. “No use lying to me, darling.”

“Remus…”

“What, darling? Tell me.”

“Fuck,” you whined, head dropping to his shoulder. “M’gonna… I-I’m—”

“I know, baby,” he said, getting a bit out of breath himself as he pounded you into the wall. “You can let go for me.”

You held onto his shoulders for dear life, coming hard around him, your eyes squeezed shut at the feeling. He didn’t let up his pace until he was spilling inside of you, barely holding you up as he did.

“Did so good, love,” he mumbled, kissing your forehead gently. “Good girl.”

You smiled softly, blushing every time he praised you, even after years together. He let you down onto shaky legs.

“Thank you, Rem.”

He furrowed his brows with a small smile. “For what?”

“Making me come like that,” you said, a little sheepish. “Best one in a while.”

“Naughty girl,” he growled playfully into your ear, nipping at the lobe. “Getting off on the idea of fucking our best friend.”

“Remus,” you groaned, pushing him away a little. “Stop it.”

“It’s okay, darling,” he said, brushing a thumb across your cheek. “You know I’m just teasing. But if you ever wanted to—”

You raised a brow, unsure how much of this was really a joke. He cracked a smile, rolling his eyes mockingly.

“I’m not going to push you to do anything, but I don’t think that Sirius would mind it. I know I wouldn’t.”

“Since when have you ever wanted to share me?”

He shrugged, turning to shut off the water that started growing colder. He stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist, and then tucking you into one as well, helping you out of the shower. He hugged you to his chest, slowly drying you off in his arms.

“I never wanted to before. Then,” he tilted his head, looking at you with stars in his eyes, “he told me about that dream. Thought it might be fun to share you, just a little. I also thought you might like the idea.”

“Why’s that?”

“Know you love to be all filled up,” he smirked. “What better way to get you full from both ends than with a friend?”

You laugh, dropping your head on his chest. “You’re gross.”

“You love it.”

“I love you. Not so much when you’re being all icky.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You liked it enough when I was fucking you against the wall, yeah?”

Your cheeks heated up, a shy smile on your face.

“Sweet girl,” he cooed. “Alright, I’m all done, now, my darling. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

You sighed. “It’s not that I don’t want to, I just—”

He paused. “What is it, love?”

“I don’t even know how we’d, like…” you groaned. “This is so weird to even talk about.”

He smiled softly, leaning down to press a delicate kiss against your lips.

“If you want me to, I can do all the talking,” he whispered. “You just sit with me and be your usual pretty self. Just so he knows I’m not screwing with him.”

You looked up at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, voice soft. “Whatever you want, darling. Anything for you.”

You smiled. “Alright.”

“Alright? You want to?”

You nodded, and his smile grew. He kissed you again, then kissed your forehead. Then your cheek. Then your other cheek. Then your jaw, and eventually all over your face until you were a giggling mess.

“Okay,” you surrendered. “Okay, Rem, all done. Come on.”

You took his hand, pulling him back into the bedroom.

“Nap first, cause you fucked all my energy out,” you said, an accusatory finger pointed in his direction. He paid no mind, giving you a cocky smirk. “Then dinner, then… We’ll talk.”

He nodded. “Alright, princess.”

Sirius sat around most of the day, his nerves inexplicably on edge no matter what he did. He couldn’t place why he felt so anxious, but it just kept building. Up until after dinner time, it didn’t make any sense— but then, it started making a lot of sense.

You were all in the living room together once again, in what would normally be a comfortable silence as music played softly. However, Sirius was anything but comfortable.

Once again, you were perched on Remus’ lap, letting him run his hands all over you like nobody else was around. It had become more of a habit over the past week. Though, your teasing smile every time Siri caught your gaze was new.

He flushed each time your eyes met his, giving him a smile or a wink that he was certain he wasn’t imagining. It made him horribly nervous that you knew something. It also excited him more than he’d like to admit.

He had committed to not touching himself when he thought of you, and so far he had been true to his promise to himself. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t absolute torture with how often you’d been occupying his mind. It seemed that every time he tried to… be alone with himself, you’d pop into his brain. To put it shortly: he was on edge in every sense of the word.

He tried not to watch you and Remus, knowing Remus was merely teasing him for his dream, but every man has a breaking point.

His came when Remus bit down softly on your neck, and you let out a little whimper. It was horribly close to what he’d imagined in his dreams, and he found his pants growing a bit tight and uncomfortable. It only worsened when he looked up to see your eyes trained on him as Remus attacked your neck with lips and teeth, not bothering to be polite in front of his housemate. You smiled softly, a glimmer in your eye as you locked your gaze on Sirius. It took a great deal of control to look away from you, and he mentally patted himself on the back when he finally did.

“Not enjoying the show, Pads?” Remus asked teasingly.

“Shut up,” he grumbled.

“Aww,” you cooed. “What happened to my sassy Siri? You’re usually so forward and flirtatious. Why change now?”

His eyes widened, and he looked between you and Remus. You both wore eerily similar smirks, and suddenly he felt his mouth dry up. He leveled his gaze at Remus.

“You didn’t.”

Remus raised his brows. “Didn’t what?”

“You told her, didn’t you?”

“She can be very convincing,” he offered.

Sirius groaned. “You’re unbelievable. I ask you to keep one secret…”

“Come on, Siri, there’s no reason to be embarrassed,” you said, adjusting your position in Remus’ lap. “I won’t blame you for having a dream.”

He sighed, not meeting your eye. He shook his head.

“I don’t get embarrassed.”

“What do you call those red cheeks of yours, then?” you teased.

He turned his glare to you. “Not funny, angel.”

“Still calling me by pet names, though,” you smiled, turning to Remus. “You wanna ask, now?”

“You two need to stop this. It’s not fair,” Sirius shook his head, staring at the both of you, unamused.

“Done teasing, Pads,” Remus said, moving you on his lap to get a better view of his friend. “I have a real question for you, now.”

Sirius looked on, curious but cautious. He raised a brow in question.

“We were talking earlier, and, well, after that dream of yours,” Remus began.

Sirius cut him off. “Right, I’m done then.”

He started moving to get out of his seat.

“Sit down,” Remus said, furrowing his brow. “Just listen.”

Sirius huffed, plopping back down. He crossed his arms, and you held back a chuckle at his little show of annoyance. You leaned into Remus’ chest as he started talking again.

“We want to invite you to be with us for the night,” he said plainly.

Sirius gaped for a moment, then quickly shut his mouth, setting his face hard.

“S’not funny, Mooney,” he said, then looked at you with an equally severe look. “And I expect better from you.”

Your eyes went a little wider. “We’re not joking, Siri.”

He looked between the two of you, unsure. His cheeks were tinted red as he tried to formulate a response. You merely quirked a brow, hoping it would settle in for him that you weren’t lying. It was taking far too long for your liking, evidently.

“What happened to you being all snarky and smooth? Blushing and stumbling over us asking you to come to bed,” you said, shaking your head.

Remus snorted behind you, pressing his face into your neck.

“You’re one to talk, love,” Sirius retorted quickly. “I couldn’t send a wink your way years ago without you going red.”

“So defensive, Padfoot,” Remus tutted. “If you don’t want to—”

“No,” Sirius responded, too quickly. “No, I just… If you two are playing some prank on me—”

“We’re not,” Remus said with finality.

Sirius let out a breath, his gaze lingering on you before he finally nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay,” he cleared his throat, throwing on a smirk. “Maybe it’ll get those dreams out my head, yeah?”

“Maybe,” you said with a smile. “Maybe it’ll make them worse.”

He groaned, rolling his eyes. “Don’t know if I can handle that.”

You smiled to yourself, standing and taking Remus’ hand in yours. “Come on, love.”

He stood with you, glued to you as you started walking towards his bedroom, but not before you turned to Sirius and sent him a wink. He raised his brows, unsure if he should get up and follow.

“You’re supposed to come too, Siri,” you called out behind you.

He nodded to himself, taking in a quick breath as he followed after you both. His heart pounded in his chest as you all stepped into the bedroom. He knew he was still blushing, but couldn’t quite stop himself. He never got nervous about sex, but this felt entirely different that anything he’d done before. He rubbed his palms against his pants, trying to appear confident, though he knew he was probably failing miserably.

He watched as you walked up to him, taking his hand and pulling him towards the bed as Remus lingered near the mattress with a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

“Don’t be nervous,” you said quietly, instructing him to sit down on the bed.

He watched with wide eyes and a bitten lip as Remus spun you around, kissing you more intensely than Sirius had ever witnessed before. He felt that discomfort in his pants growing again, watching your body fully pressed against Remus’ as you let him explore your mouth until you were entirely breathless. Remus pulled away from you, pressing one last soft peck to your lips.

“Just want to remind you who you belong to before we start this,” he smirked. “Go on, show him what those pretty lips feel like.”

You leaned up, unable to stop yourself from kissing him once more before turning to Siri. You sat on the bed next to him, facing him.

“This okay?” you asked quietly.

“Definitely,” he nodded.

You rested one hand on his leg, leaning in slowly until he met you halfway. You nipped at his lip, not quite kissing him, yet. Luckily for you, he took that as a sign to make the first move. You smiled into the kiss: he was clearly desperate as he pressed his lips to yours intensely, scooting closer to you on the mattress. You licked softly at the crease between his lips, slipping your tongue into his mouth when he opened up for you. You felt Remus’ hand stroke through your hair as you let his best friend kiss you deeply. One of your hands moved up to Siri’s jaw, stroking his skin softly.

“That’s my girl,” Remus said softly, his voice giving away his arousal. “So good, darling.”

You peeked your eyes open, looking up at him for a moment as you moved your lips to Sirius’ neck. He gave you a soft smile, letting you take full control of the situation, even when he clearly wanted to. You reached up with the hand you had against Sirius’ face to trail up Remus’ leg and towards the noticeable bulge in his pants. He licked his lips, moving his hips a bit closer to you. Sirius sighed softly in your ear when you dragged your teeth against a particularly sensitive spot on his neck.

“Come on, darling,” Remus said, pulling you away from Sirius and up to your feet.

You looked at him expectantly, understanding his impatience more when he started tugging at your top. You let him take it off of you, hearing a hard breath come out of Sirius when he saw that you didn’t have anything under the shirt. Remus turned you towards Sirius, pressing open-mouthed kisses all down your neck.

“Isn’t she pretty, Pads?” he asked against your skin.

Sirius swallowed, nodding. “Very.”

He leaned back on the mattress, palming the bulge in his pants as he watched your chest rise and fall from Remus’ lips on you. You smirked when Remus trailed his hands up your torso, Sirius’ eyes following every movement carefully, before landing on your breasts. You pushing your hips back into Remus, making him groan softly at the friction against his still-clothed member. You thought it was only fair with how he squeezed at the flesh of your tits, playing with your nipples until you couldn’t hold back your noises anymore.

You were breathing heavily, your eyes fluttering open when Remus’ hands started retreating. You looked at Sirius who hadn’t pulled his eyes from you the entire time. You reached for him.

“Siri,” you said, pulling his hands to you.

He let his fingertips explore your exposed skin, leaning up to capture one of your nipples between his lips. You whimpered softly at the contact of his wet mouth against your irritated skin, your hand threading through his hair. You only stopped when you felt Sirius’ movements stop, his mouth barely against you as he glanced over your shoulder.

“Damn, Mooney,” he said, eyes wide. “Didn’t know you were… How was I the womanizer in school?”

You looked behind you, smiling at your now-bare boyfriend in all his glory. You couldn’t blame Sirius for being impressed— He had, by far, the biggest dick you’d ever seen personally. You were practically convinced he wouldn’t fit inside of you the first time you saw him.

“I was too busy chasing after this one,” he said, nodding towards you, leaving you blushing. “Not that big, anyways.”

“Not that…” Sirius started, trailing off. “Mate, I can’t stop staring. How have you gotten through life like that?”

You snorted a laugh. “Alright, stop staring at my boyfriend’s cock.”

“It’s impressive,” Sirius said simply, raising a brow as he looked on before turning his gaze away and towards your face. “No wonder you’re always trying to shag.”

You felt Remus behind you, pressing himself fully against your backside. “Helps that she’s just as impressive.”

Sirius swallowed, suddenly feeling overly dressed as he watched Remus tug your pants down your legs, leaving you in a pair of black panties.

“Wait till you feel her mouth, Pads,” Remus said, nipping at your shoulder. He then spoke into your ear. “Why don’t you help him out of those clothes, darling?”

You obliged with a shake of your head and smile. Sirius shot you a cocky smirk as you pulled his sweater over his head.

“Stand,” you instructed, to which he quickly obeyed.

You pulled his pants down, smiling to yourself at the tent in his underwear. You tugged those down next, and while he was no Remus size-wise, he was just as pretty. You stared for a moment, tongue wetting your lips subconsciously. As you stood back up, Remus shoved his hand into your panties, making a satisfied noise at how wet you’d become already.

He pulled his hand back up, popping the fingers he’d brushed against you in his mouth. You watched, never not enamored with how bold he got in bed. He smirked at you, then looked at Sirius.

“Care for a taste?”

Sirius nodded quickly. “Love to.”

“Lay down for him, darling,” Remus said, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You quickly climbed onto the bed, laying against the pillows at the headboard. Remus smiled softly at you, his eyes looking you up and down lovingly.

“Pretty girl,” he sighed, shaking his head. He sat next to you after a moment, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “Alright, Sirius.”

Remus nodded at the apex of your thighs, expecting Sirius to get to work. Siri gave you a questioning look, to which you nodded with a smile. He crawled between your legs, kissing all the way up your thighs until he reached your panties. He pulled them slowly down your legs, licking his lips at the sight of you before him.

“Wow,” he said, breathless. He looked at Remus again, “Understand why you always want to shag, too.”

“And you haven’t even really touched her yet,” Remus said with a light laugh. He kissed you on your forehead. “See, love? You are entirely irresistible.”

You shook your head, capturing his lips with a hand on his neck. Just in time, too, moaning into his mouth as you felt Sirius dive into your cunt like nothing you’d expected. You gasped again, though Remus shoved his tongue in your mouth to keep you quiet. The only way you could describe what Sirius was doing was that he was not only eating you out, but fully making out with your pussy. You clenched around nothing, writhing under both of their grips on you: Remus’ hands holding your waist and neck, Sirius’ arms wrapped around your legs to keep you open for him.

“Feel good, darling,” Remus asked against your lips.

You nodded with a whine. “Yes. Fuck.”

Sirius groaned against you, the vibrations shooting all over you.

“Shit, Siri,” you moaned, a hand in his hair. “So good.”

Remus smiled, shaking his head at you before diving back in to kiss you again, directing your hand to stroke his cock as he did. Between his tongue in your mouth and Sirius’ mouth all over your soaked cunt, it wasn’t long before you felt that familiar tension in your stomach start to snap. You cried out against Remus, your whole body shaking as the orgasm ripped through you at a rapid speed. Sirius left soft kisses all over your thighs, pressing one last kiss directly on your clit before he sat up. You opened your eyes, looking at him in a daze. You knew from rumors he was supposed to be good in bed, but you didn’t expect him to be quite so talented with his mouth.

You also didn’t expect to look down and see him leaking precum as if he’d been the one getting off. You whimpered again at the sight, arousal only building at the fact that he was that excited from going down on you. You started moving your hand slowly again where it rested on your boyfriend’s dick, wanting him to feel good, too, but he had other ideas.

“Hands and knees, angel,” he said, kissing your cheek quickly. “Let him see what that pretty mouth can do for him, yeah?”

You nodded, moving to get onto all fours in front of Sirius. You leaned on your elbows, taking him into your hand and stroking him. You looked up, his face already showing obvious signs of his pleasure. You stuck your tongue out, running it terribly slowly over the vein that stuck out on the underside of his cock until you reached the head, pressing a soft kiss just where the precum was leaking out. You licked your lips clean for him, watching as his brows raised, his chest rising and falling a little faster.

“How is it?” he asked, a little amused at your show.

“Tastes like you,” you smirked, taking the entire tip in your mouth, causing a few curses to spill from his lips.

“My little cumslut,” Remus cooed from behind you. “Don’t let her pull off until she swallows, yeah?”

Sirius nodded, breathless as you started bobbing your head faster. “Yeah. Yeah, will do.”

You felt Remus slide his head against you, gathering your slick and Sirius’ left-over spit until he slowly started pushing into you. You moaned your appreciation around Sirius, causing him to tense up, his hand finding it’s way to the back of your head.

“Just like that,” he groaned as you wrapped your hand around him, pushing him deeper into your throat with each thrust. “Fuck, doll. You do this so well. So good.”

Remus slapped your ass from behind, thrusting into you harder. “Manners, baby. He just complimented you, didn’t he?”

You pulled off for a moment, hand taking over. “Thanks, Siri.”

“Yeah,” he said quickly, trying to push himself back into your mouth as quickly as possible.

You smiled to yourself, obliging him. Though, it was becoming a little more difficult to keep pace just right when Remus was more-so pulling you on and off his cock rather than thrusting his hips into you.

You groaned and choked on Sirius, especially as he started fucking into your face. You felt yourself rapidly approaching another orgasm, and Remus seemed to notice.

“Come on, love,” he grunted. “I can feel you. I know you want to come all over my cock. Go ahead.”

You whined again, mouth full, and came crashing down. You were barely able to keep yourself up as both men fucked into you relentlessly, and Remus grabbed you around your middle to help you stay upright.

“Just a bit longer, love,” he said, clearly getting close himself.

“I’m gonna…” Sirius said, groaning out the words. He looked down at you with his mouth agape and his eyes dark. All it took was you looking back up at him with teary eyes, his cock pumping in and out of your mouth. “Fuck”

His hips stuttered, and he spilled into your mouth. You shut your lips around him, swallowing as much as you could with him still jammed in your throat. He practically whimpered from overstimulation, pulling out of your mouth to let you swallow whatever you couldn’t before. He flopped down on the bed in front of you, giving you another smirk before he tossed his arm over his face, coming down from his high.

“Alright, love,” Remus mumbled, pounding into you harder now that you weren’t otherwise occupied.

You groaned loudly as he hit that perfect spot inside of you, gasping for breath when you felt a hand toying with your clit. You opened your eyes, seeing it was Sirius who had slipped his hand under your body. He smiled at you, cheeky, especially when he saw your brows knit together. You were getting close again.

“Gonna cum inside of you,” your boyfriend said, pressing his face into your neck. “M’close.”

“Please,” you begged, though not quite sure to who.

Sirius sped up the work of his hand as Remus spilled inside of you, sending you careening over the edge once again. Your body convulsed under Remus’ larger frame, your arms finally giving out under you. You shut your eyes as it took over your entire being, not opening them again until you felt Remus pulling out of you.

“Aww, look at that, Pads,” he said, a smile in his voice. “Think we just about fucked her to sleep.”

You heard Sirius chuckle. “Cute.”

Remus pressed a kiss to your shoulder. “I’m going to get a washcloth for you, alright, love?”

You nodded, barely coherent and thoroughly fucked out, still laying on your stomach. Another hand brushed away some stray hair from your forehead.

“For the record, this is definitely not going to help those dreams of mine,” Sirius said lowly.

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