#aka the person who is just as fucked up as he is </3

[raisedbythetv89]

excuse the ranting here but just had someone try and argue that a fully evil literally on the hunt for the Slayer (bc he’s stalking his PREY to fight and hopefully kill) Spike - finding Buffy attractive (according to an interview James gave where he talks about that moment and said he embodied the kinds of predatory men who literally are “on the hunt” for real life women in bars) as anywhere NEAR the same level of creepiness as a SOULFUL aka SUPPOSED TO BE GOOD angel stalking and falling in love at the sight of an innocent and crying 15 year old Buffy….

Anti spike/spuffy ppl always try and use that interview to make Spike out to be “just as creepy” as Angel which is always just so embarrassing to me that they don’t grasp the basic difference between one was the most evil and literally is a predator to her prey but buffy is also a predator to spike’s kind so there is even still a balance of power between them even then and he’s literally just explaining how he played the scene to get the attitude and body language right as a predator bc he understands that’s what Spike is to Buffy at that time (literally had zero clue he would ever be a love interest of Buffy’s). And the other who is not supposed to be a predator anymore…. hides his identity as a vampire AND hides the fact that he’s been watching her for over a year is still acting as a predator but instead of stalking an experienced slayer to attempt to fight and kill he is stalking a freshly called still weak and vulnerable slayer who he wants to sleep with aka corrupt.

Angel is supposed to be GOOD yet is still acting like a predator. Spike IS EVIL and so is simply acting as someone who has killed two slayers should 💀💀💀💀 the fact that soulless evil Spike and soulful “good” Angel’s behavior can be compared AT ALL is bad for angel and angel alone bc spike is supposed to be evil and treating buffy as someone he is hunting and as an opponent. Angel is supposed to be HELPING Buffy….

But regardless of all that the argument is James said Sarah is beautiful so of course he played up that angle as well so canonically Spike thinks a 16 year old Buffy is pretty and these people really don’t understand the difference between the two 😭😭

First of all I personally have heard Sarah call herself “not the prettiest” at least 10 times in 10 different interviews - how often do you think the people in her life heard her make jokes or comments about her appearance??? To me that always seemed like James just paying a compliment to his costar who doesn’t understand how literally fucking STUNNING she is by basically being like HAVE YOU SEEN HER OF COURSE MY CHARACTER THINKS SHE’S PRETTY LOOK AT HER!! James literally rizzed his way into a main character and love interest like of course he’s gonna be charming in real life by paying compliments to everyone he can every chance he gets. He had sex appeal and a dream AND IT WORKED 💀 and we also see him have chemistry with practically every person on the show that’s just who he is 😹😹😹

But I also just cannot emphasize how much of a difference there is between finding someone attractive or thinking they’re beautiful vs actually ACTING on it and ESPECIALLY acting on it when you call her friend of the same age “just a kid” and say over and over again how wrong it is and that she’s too young AND THEN DO IT ANYWAY. Like it’s a supernatural show with vampires who are 100 & 200+ years old if angel hadn’t constantly acted like her dad and treated Buffy like a kid and everything is season 3 didn’t happen there could be sooooooo much more leniency with angel and buffy’s age differences and I probably wouldn’t care bc applying irl rules to the supernatural doesn’t make a lot of sense but angel always treats her like a child and says over and over again how wrong it is and THAT is what makes it a problem within this supernatural show bc Spike never treats her like a child or like she isn’t his equal ever no matter what age she is

But unfortunately it makes sense people who like a character whose main personality trait is !catholic guilt! (when he’s got a soul) don’t understand the difference between thoughts and actions and how we should only be defining ourselves and other people by their actions. Because we are not every single thought we’ve ever had both good and bad. If you think to do good things but don’t that does not make you good and if you think to do bad things but don’t that does not make you bad.

So evil Spike thinking a beautiful Buffy dancing with her friends is hot at 16 is not even CLOSE to the same as a supposed to be good angel activity pursuing a relationship with her by breadcrumbing the absolute fuck out of her, manipulating her like crazy and lying to her about practically everything and flirting with her under false pretenses after falling in love at the sight of her looking like a child with her lollipop on the school steps at 15 and then watching her cry in the bathroom mirror as he watches her from the bushes with a smile on his face and hope in his eyes and if you don’t understand that there is literally nothing I can do or say to help you

[vermilionsun]

Since we’re doing part twos👀 Could you write more nsfw hcs for leander and ais? <3

Yes I can Yes I will Yes I did 💃

Ais

Aka choose one hair colour challenge failed

✩ Topping from the bottom

Self-explanatory. “Gives it almost as well as he takes it,” but he’s in charge babe, you stand no chance. He’ll treat you good though, don’t worry—

✩ Facefucking

YOUR FACE OR HIS, he doesn’t really mind. He knows to appreciate a good blowjob and loves having his mouth stuffed full of you. Man doesn’t ask for much. Plus he thinks it hot watching you manhandle him.

✩ 69

I see this man having an oral fixation—I can’t explain it. Sit on his face and suck him. As tiring as it is rewarding.

✩ M I R R O R S

He’ll be sitting on the edge of the bed, you on his lap, your back facing him. His veiny hands keep your thighs open as he makes you watch yourself bounce on him in the mirror and struggle to keep your balance and pace. Delicious.

✩ Pillow Prince(ss)

Let him treat you, okay?

✩ Comfort Sex

hEAR ME OUT WAIT— This man will never fuck you while he’s angry. That goes against a couple hundred of his moral codes, plus he would never want to hurt you. But, after some time, if things are getting heated, he will be slow, sensual, careful. He’ll apologise if he’s at fault. He’ll hold your hand and leave soft murmurs on the crook of your neck, kiss away any tears that might leave your eyes. Same goes if he knows you had had a rough day, accompanied by enough praises to make you see stars.

✩ S H O W E R

✩ Seasping

ON THAT NOTE— If he’s lying inside the waters of the Seaspring, presumably looking at the wall, and you climb in alongside him, well… He won’t bother to hide the gigantic smirk on his face that rivals the size of his boobs as he pulls you on his lap. It also serves as an amazing opportunity for a not-so-subtle fuck you to to Ocudeus.

✩ Exhibitionism–ish

He’d fuck you happily infront of a crowd to prove a point (with your consent of course). He’d take any chance thrown his way to brag about how amazing his partner is.

✩ Remote Control Vibrators

There has to be an alternative to that in the Touchstarved universe, right? Oh, that bastard’s smirk when he suddenly presses it to the highest setting from across the room while you’re in the middle of a conversation.

✩ Against the Table

✩ Spontaneous Sex

He’s definitely the type to randomly return home/come find you “because he’s horny.”

✩ Caught

He won’t stop his actions, just look at the person who walked in on you with a “what do you want?” look. Could easily pick up a conversation while fucking his partner’s brains out, 100%

✩ Up Skirt/Panties to the side

✩ Car

RIP Ais, you’d love late night car rides and car sex afterwards.

Leander

Aka the Nile is a river in Egypt

🗡  Nipple Play

This man’s tits are MASSIVE. Treat them well. Suck on them, twist and pull on them, make him cry.

🗡  Masochism

Self-explanatory.

🗡  Anal Toys

Previously mentioned he’s an ass guy, so make everyone a favour and ruin his ass (literally). B̶e̶a̶d̶s̶ w̶i̶l̶l̶ d̶o̶ t̶h̶e̶ j̶o̶b̶ j̶u̶s̶t̶ f̶i̶n̶e̶

🗡  RIDE HIM &

🗡  PULL HIS HAIR

Sit on his lap, pull his hair and force him to look at you while you ride his soul out of his dick. He’ll thank you once he’ll be able to speak again—give him a couple w̶e̶e̶k̶s̶ days though.

🗡  Magic

Of course, I will elaborate. If he can make flowers of light out of thin air, he most definitely can use his magic for other things, even to a small degree. A restraint, a shock of pleasure, and he most definitely will comply if asked (̶s̶h̶o̶w̶-̶o̶f̶f̶)̶.

🗡  Sleepy

Wake him up with a blowjob once, and you’ll have to continue that routine for the rest of both your lives. He’ll be completely bewitched, still groggy as me moans lowly and oh damn that deep morning voice…

🗡  Gag

It’s both hilarious and incredibly turning on. Try that with your panties, and the man has already cummed.

🗡  Lingerie

Talking about panties… The moment he lays his eyes on you and your fancy little outfit, he swallows dryly. His eyes go dark, and he has to reposition himself because he’s so hard. You’d expect him to rip them off of you immediately, but instead, he guides you to stand in front of his spread–out legs, his hands slowly trailing up your thighs to your ass and waist, feeling the way your skin transitions to the material, his chin resting against your stomach as you pet his hair.

“May I?”

“May you, what?”

“May I take these off?” He tugs at the fabric to make his point. “Please?”

M̶o̶n̶t̶h̶s̶ u̶n̶t̶i̶l̶ y̶o̶u̶ w̶a̶l̶k̶ n̶o̶r̶m̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ a̶g̶a̶i̶n̶.

🗡  Cumming Untouched

Too easy to achieve with this man.

🗡  Under the desk

The bar, specifically. It’s beyond amusing watching him try to keep his composure in front of the patrons while you’re sucking him off so beautifully.

🗡  G̶l̶o̶r̶y̶ H̶o̶l̶e̶

He̶ w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶, o̶k̶a̶y̶?̶!̶ D̶o̶n̶'t̶ c̶o̶m̶e̶ a̶t̶ m̶e̶

🗡  Candle/Wax Play

He had set them up to make a “romantic atmosphere” but the second your eyes darted to the candle closest to you while you were on top of him… yeah, he might have slightly regretted his decision (s̶p̶o̶i̶l̶e̶r̶s̶:̶ h̶e̶ d̶i̶d̶n̶'t̶ a̶c̶t̶u̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ a̶n̶d̶ y̶o̶u̶ d̶i̶d̶ i̶t̶ a̶g̶a̶i̶n̶).

🗡  Public Humiliation

It’s literally canon.

🗡  Caught Masturbating

“Come on darling, won’t you help me a little?”

[wolves-in-the-world]

It's an awkward angle, but there's a knot in the wood at the back of a drawer that feels a little off when he brushes his fingers over it. Eliot lines up the key and it goes in smoothly. Their voice washes over him, filed away by the part of him that's still assessing, trying to make sense of their deal, as the small drawer on the side of the desk - invisible until now - pops open. He has just enough sense to poke a pen inside to set off any traps before reaching in. He takes out his dog tags and feels the weight of years hanging from the chain. Lives lost, lives taken; all the siblings he fought for and all those who fought for him; the person he once was before he got his hands bloody in the service of what he loved. It's a mistake he seems doomed to repeat. He loops the chain around his neck and tucks it under his shirt, resting his hand there for a second as if feeling for a heartbeat. All the things he gave Moreau, all the things he can never get back, and he never thought he would see this one again.

(in which moreau is the kind of pretentious fuck to have a writing desk with secret compartments and someone made eliot's decision for him by killing moreau before eliot had a chance to leave. also in which moreau maybe kept the key in a hidden pocket behind his left lapel definitely coincidentally over his heart, don't think about it too hard, it's fine.)

[eqan]

i feel like people think i’m mean for keeping my dogs inside/in their own yard/on my mom’s property and never really out in public but the reason for that is:

egan is reactive as fuck. WILL lunge at even a child if they run up on him

milo

ranger is terrified of everything he was found feral, beaten up, chunk missing from his ear, down to the Bones, dude trying to sh**t him, in a field in west texas. he pees himself with fear

ryker’s recall is ok unless he sees another dog then he’s OFF THE WALL and this is a dog we could barely teach to sit (had to literally get help for that) let alone to ignore other dogs. trying to train ryker is like trying to train a rock

pamela small animal enthusiast

[lesbian-janai]

the grinch (2018) missed the entire point of the grinch. the grinch is disgusting and horrifying and mean and rude and that was the whole point but illumination made him all squeaky clean (as in, he's just? not disgusting? no crooked teeth no gross scowl no bad personality he's just clean) and misunderstood and "he's just lonely uwu" like way to yet again ruin one of dr. seus' books

[tteokdoroki]

your wife’s calling. | t.amajiki. ʚ !! ɞ

❧ ; SYNOPSIS. overworked and under appreciated, there's only one person pro hero suneater can turn to in his time of need— that person being his irresistible, charming little assistant, aka you.

❧ ; cpu characters. tamaki amajiki x fem!reader.

❧ ; word count. 1.9K

❧ ; genre + rating. pro hero!au, dilf!au, fluff, smut, 18+, minors do not interact !!

❧ ; game warnings. - proceed with caution !! reader is in their twenties, older!tamaki, smut, age-gap, cheating, exhibitionnism, unprotected sex, fingering, handjobs, creampie, sir/mister!kink, praise!kink, spit!kink.

❧ ; streamer commentary. everybody say happy ( belated ) birthday to @yourlovemaze!! i hope you have an amazing day and thank you for commissioning me !! everyone else, pls enjoy this fic eee!! special thanks to @prinvil beta reading !! enjoy <3 m.list. + tip jar.

“your wife’s calling, mister amajiki,”

eyes in the shade of eminence look up from a mountain of paperwork and the pro hero feels a blistering heat in warmer shades of colour run down his spine and straight to his cock just from the sight of you.

his personal, adorable assistant.

and tamaki’s missed you around the office, so much, having kept himself buried in patrol reports and intern files instead between your plush thighs and soft chest that spills out of the tight satin blouse that you wear— the one you know pro hero suneater loves so much. “w-what is it that she wanted?” tamaki asks, voice failing to stay even as his gaze drops from your chest to the meat of your thighs, his mouth watering then.

“she called earlier asking for your new card details, she wants to buy herself a purse and something for your son since she missed his birthday last week,” you explain through pouty lips, tone sultry and smooth— echoing through the room as your hips sway and sashay their way into the seasoned pro’s office. “i told her you were busy with work but she just kept calling,” you stop right in front of amajiki’s desk, leaning forward, eyes darkening in a familiar and lustful way— voice dropping an octave until his ears feel like they’re filled with honey even when you whine through your next words.

“what should i do, mister amajiki?”

oh boy and does mister amajiki recognise that tone of voice, the look on your face that reads ‘fuck me, sir.’ in a thousand different ways— all of which he’s seen before. you always start your games like this, try to play the innocent and coy assistant, until tamaki’s all riled up and has fallen right into your trap.

but he never seems to care, doesn’t give a damn if he’s losing to you.

“h-hang up,” he says quickly to avoid the guilt, the anger he has for himself for giving into his assistant yet again. you do as you’re told, ending the dial tone to his wife’s call yet again and before either of you know it, the sexual tension has blown its top and your lips are smashed together in a sloppy, forbidden kiss.

tamaki amajiki should feel awful, he knows, practised and experienced fingers used to save the lives of civilians tearing through the buttons on his assistant’s— your shirt. but his wife, she’s awful.

his scarred hands, worn down from his practice as a hero, trace along the curve of your breasts— thumbing where they meet your ribcage while his tongue runs laps around the heat of your mouth— amajiki’s wife a distant thought in his mind. his wife, god what was her name, he can’t remember it when he’s mewling yours against your strawberry tongue, licking up saliva from your cherry lips. his wife, a woman who’d used the purple haired hero for nothing but his money, tied him down with a son who was but a year or two younger than you.

and you, were his sweet little intern that had stolen tamaki amajiki’s heart from day one— with a youthful smile and a fresh, cutely rounded face that made him feel loved where his wife had not, where the admiration your eyes held when looking at him had stolen his heart from the hands of mrs.amajiki as you whisper his name while he pushes up your tight pencil skirt in a way that makes him feel young again.

tamaki’s movements are rapid but carry the experience of a married man as his thumb presses to your swelling clit, the pressure he applies creating a delicious drag against the hood— making you quiver and dig your nails into his milky flesh. “m-mister amajiki! s-sir! please let me have you,” you beg even though you don’t have to—legs spreading for the silver fox on your own accord, desperate to have his fat cock inside you just like always. “need you tama,” you try again, teary eyed and hungry while your smaller fingers reach down and grasp at his painfully hard dick. “always need you, tamaki.”

the pro hero keens into your touch as his chest bristles with pride and you easily break through the barriers of tamaki’s pants, the softness of your palm meeting his shaft first. digging your thumb into his slit, he whines your name in broken syllables which still form the prettiest song you’ve ever heard. “you’re so pretty tama, i love you, tama.” you tell him earnestly, jerking him off to your own tune, hand growing sticky as you squeeze amajiki’s cock and swipe up any precum before it drips down his balls— the thickness of his arousal staining your knuckles an opaque white.

he can’t help but drool from his mouth and his cock, how lucky is he? seasoned pro hero suneater, tamaki amajiki with the world’s prettiest girl— no, his girl— and her hand around his cock, making the pleasure stack up high in his lower stomach. “p-princess, i-if you keep doing that, ‘m gonna...gonna c-cum!” amajiki squeaks, tongue rolling from his mouth and back into your heated one as you share a messy kiss, scared he’ll smear his cum against the inside of his boxers as if he’s still a teenager in high school. that’s how good you make him feel, how young you make him feel. “stop,” he pleads as his body starts to tremble. “p-please, wanna cum inside!”

the next few moments are a blur, as soon as you let go of tamaki your back is pinned to his sturdy oak desk and your legs hooked around the elder man’s waist— knick knacks as gifts from his wife thrown to the floor, your soft skin against scratchy papers and cool plastic biro pens but neither of you can think to care. not when your boss’s cockhead presses wetly against your sweeping slit— puffy and fluttering with undying arousal just from teasing him a little. no, you’re both far too hungry, dying to get a taste of your forbidden fruits while you dance in the garden of Adam and Eve.

“f-fuck, princess,” amajiki chokes on his throaty moans, tail end of his words falling as whimpers into your ears when he leans over your body pressed into the desk. purple hair tickles at your neck while he pushes his dull tip through your sticky sweet and honeysuckle folds, messing them up with globs of his thick precum. “i love this pussy, fuck, i love you.'' the pro hero whines and it sets your whole body ablaze to see an established hero just like himself crumble above you, close to tears before he thrusts his fat cock into you without warning— all the way up to the hilt. “this pussy makes me do bad things p-princess...s-such bad things…oh god!”

as always, your walls welcome him, selfishly sucking amajiki down while your cunt blossoms for him like a flower. you’re so warm and wet, soaking his cock in your essence as the blue and throbbing vein on his underside brushes against your own sensitive spots. “w-what kind of bad things, mister amajiki?” you manage between hard rolls of your boss’s hips into yours, slapping skin on skin filling the air along with the desk rocking beneath your joined bodies as tamaki finds his pace— overwhelming your youthful body; marking you again.

the purple haired hero dissolves into curses and shudders the deeper his cock plunges into your pussy— lewd squelching sounds echoing through his thin office walls while he commits them to memory and erases any thoughts of his wife from his mind. it’s all about you, you, you. and the unbelievably tight cunt you have, a ring of white foaming on his lower shaft, dripping down his balls heavy with cum.

“b-bad things like ruining you,” the pro hero stutters ou, dirty words (muffled by his face in your neck) barely heard over your small bleats of pleasure and the rustling paper beneath your ass and back— probably soaked through with smudged ink by your sweat and oozing arousal. “d-defiling you, taking your fucking innocence and keeping it.”

pulling tamaki back by the roots of his midnight sky hair, touched with silver strands from the moon, you yank him down to your lips— rolling your strawberry-tongue over his, sucking on his while he fucks you until a string of drool connects you in a different way. “then do it tama, take me.”

you’ve got him wrapped around your finger, playing pawn to your dangerous game of lust and love— but tamaki doesn’t care, not when he’s balls deep inside you, thrusting so hard the desk might give out as your breasts bounce softly with the force. his wife, his family, his reputation as a hero is nothing compared to you, you are his heaven on earth.

your words have tamaki’s length twitching along your insides as he bullies them, bulbous and red hot tip bruising your cervix and shaping your insides to fit him and only him. he lets go of the desk behind your head to brush a thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down to spit into your open mouth and he kisses you before you have a chance to swallow— sloppily thrusting his tongue into the warmth of your mouth to the same pace as his cock into your velvet, heated cunt.

“t-ta—maki! oh, tamaki, ‘m close...so close!” you squeal hiccuping as his tip bleeds precum against your g-spot, battering it, bullying it until your eyes are crossed and you’re seeing stars. “y’so good m-mister! no one can fuck me like you, mister a-amajiki!”

“s-shit, you’re s-squeezing me so tight, princess. my god,” tamaki’s thumb, through your mess of lips and mix of arousals finds your clit— the hero rubbing slippery circles into it, knowing that neither of you will last much longer than this. “you’re gonna make me cum.” lifting your hips, you grind up into the hero, letting him rock his dick into the deepest depths of your insides— both of you teary eyed with sweaty limbs as your highs get closer and closer— your moans tied together in harmony and ricocheting through out the suneater agency. “‘m gonna cum inside you, gonna cum inside— mark you up, cum princess, please,”

amajiki pleads you, on the verge of begging but he can’t hold back any more— a hot load of his viscous and potent seed pouring into your tight, little hole, colouring your insides with his mark as the pro hero’s head drops pathetically to your neck, panting out while he rides out his high into overstimulation. the spurts of his seed line your inner walls, cum seeping out of your puffy folds but amajiki doesn’t stop fucking into you until he’s triggered your high. your pretty pussy gushes as much as your body trembles, soaking tamaki’s lower tummy in your sweet juices over and over until you’re spent and practically brainless.

both of you lay together, spread out against his desk like that for moments longer— tamaki’s cock softening inside you while he still dribbles cum and you share soft intimate kisses. he missed you, more than he could ever miss his wife and he’s about to admit so when there’s a sheepish knock at the door.

“w-who is it?” tamaki frowns at his voice break, even more so when he catches you giggling underneath him. “what do you want?”

the voice hesitates, belonging to another one of suneater’s assistants, before it calls out eight dreaded words that makes both yours and tamaki’s blood run cold.

“your wife’s here to see you, mister amajiki.”

[ja3minz]

ranking nct dream on who has the best stamina

(aka who’s gonna bust the quickest) — inspired by a thread i saw on twt

7 — renjun

okay this might be a controversial pick but…hear me out. he’s impatient to the core and he can’t control himself when it comes to you. i don’t wanna say you can train him to be better at it but you can lmfao. he makes up for it by a lot of foreplay, probably makes you cum with his fingers or mouth a time or two. but once he’s out, he’s out. like i could see him nutting and then wanting to go right to sleep honestly. he’s like drained, but he kind of loves the feeling it’s why he likes you so much.

6 — jisung

as an (amazing) dancer i know he probably has incredible stamina and has the possibility of being able to go, but c’mon. so sensitive. the feeling of a warm, tight hole pulsating on his dick, your moans, the intimacy of it all. he wouldn’t be able to control himself. but he could definitely go for multiple rounds, because once he’s started he just wants more. i kinda see jisung as the bf that wants to fuck all the time and not in a bad way he’s just so into you.

5 — jeno

i just think he can easily get wrapped up in the moment of it. i just have this image of him (strong boy) having you folded up like a goddamn pretzel and he just loses himself and it’s like he’s a whole different person. eyes rolled, toes curled, hands gripping you tight, he just loses it. he isn’t super quick though, he does last long enough. there’s been a time or two where you didn’t get to cum and he felt awful about it (bc he also tires out quick when he cums) but it’s because he puts so much into it. definitely, like. one of the roughest ones in bed.

4 — mark

okay, it’s kind of a 50/50 shot for mark i think. depending on, like, how much time he has, how tired he is, how horny he is, in the perfect scenario he can go all night but he also can go quickly. i don’t know, i think he’s probably great at quickies. i also get the feeling he doesn’t have to stall for time by pulling out, he can just sit inside of you and pace himself. if that makes any sense.

3 — jaemin

jaem’s best feature is that he’s fantastic at stalling and you almost don’t even realize how long it’s been. like he’ll have you so fucked out with his words and his fingers alone that by the time he gets his dick in you that you’re the one cumming quickly. he also likes to take his time with you, spends a lot of time on foreplay, likes edging you, again he gets you so wound up that he doesn’t even have to fuck you yet.

2 — haechan

also a fantastic staller thanks to that motormouth. he can dirty talk you for hours, intentionally edges you (and himself) to prolong it because he just likes having sex. the atmosphere of it is addicting, he loves being wrapped in you and having you at his mercy (or the other way around). he can go for quite a while honestly and i also think he cums a lot. 🙊 not that that has anything to do with anything but.

1 — chenle

oh you cant tell me this man can’t go hours. chenle the type to fuck you until your brains numb. until your so sore you can’t move. he’s the type to fuck you so good you don’t have to touch yourself for at least a week, you’re keen to just wait for him. also you’re just so sensitive that you need the time to recoup. you could start at 8pm and finish at 3am and im not kidding. you need to have water ready, it’s a marathon. he likes it entirely too much when you’re a puddle of nothing because of him.

[words-4u]

Hi there,

Can you make a Lewis one where you are Toto’s little girl (like not his daughter but he sees you as one, and works for merc) and dating with Lewis. You found out you’re pregnant 🤰🏽 and just as Lewis is proposing… idk if it makes much sense, sorry my English

Thanks, love 💕💕

formula 1 masterlist

lewis hamilton x fem!reader

you started at the mercedes amg f1 team in 2017 as a pr intern

the position was supposed to last 3 months but they kept extending your contract race after race and before you knew it you were with them for the whole season

toto was the one to sit you down and talk to you about how well you were doing and how you fit right into the merc fam the very next day, he had papers drawn up and offered you a permanent position which you happily accepted

everyone on the team was happy you were staying on and sebastian vettel even got you a cake to celebrate

the new role you were assigned was lewis hamiltons' pr "media" person

your job consisted of being that person who tells the driver, in your case lewis, important info before talking to the media: who's whom, what can and can't be discussed during press talk and you're also responsible to record everything they say if they ever get misquoted by the media

your day started and ended with lewis and you couldn't complain because you two got on like a house on fire and everyone was starting to notice including your sweetly overprotective boss, toto

three months into your new job, lewis dropped you off at your hotel at the end of a successful race day and had asked you on a date 

there was a bit of hesitation on your part because you work so closely together and you didn't want to ruin it but lewis assured you that if things didn't work out, which he was sure that things would, he would keep it 100% professional

upon hearing that you agreed to the first date and the second and the third

toto found out when you were messaging about each other's plans for the week off and you absentmindedly included that you were travelling with lewis to london to meet his family for the first time 

toto called you immediately demanding to know why you were meeting lewis's family and seeing as he is such an important figure in your life, you told him everything 

toto has been protective of you since you were a baby intern so you expected him to have some reservations but you were adamant that what you felt for lewis was real and vice versa

4 years later...

for the past three days, you've woken up super sick and had thrown up multiple times

when you told your best friend about it she suggested you take a pregnancy test 

you waited until lewis left for the hungarian grand prix to buy and take the test. you didn't want to tell him anything at the moment because a) it would seriously distract him and b) you didn't want to give him false hope  

the second you saw the two lines on the stick, you squealed. it was really happening! you were gonna start a family with the love of your life.

unbeknownst to you, lewis was already planning to make you his family. before leaving for the hgp, out of respect he asked your dad for your hand in marriage and then he asked your work dad aka toto wolff.

toto was overjoyed. he couldn't imagine a better person for you than lewis.

"besides joining mercedes, i think this is the best decision you've ever made," toto joked but quickly got serious. "but you know how much y/n means to me so don't fuck it up..."

lewis laughed, "man, we've already been together 4 years. i think i know what i'm doing." 

"well, it doesn't hurt to remind you," his boss said clapping a hand on his shoulder before walking away.

after lewis returned from the grand prix, he had angela set up a dinner with friends and family. he told you it was because he hadn't seen them in a while (which was true) but he was also planning to propose that night.

the dinner party was going great. drinks were flowing (not for you, unfortunately), and several different conversations were held by your guests mingling. 

you were invested in a conversation with your best friends about your pregnancy with lewis when everyone fell quiet, the room went dark and fairy lights went on.

in your confusion, you turned around and caught the sight of lewis down on one knee with a small velvet box in one hand.  

you clasped a hand against your mouth in shock.

"i'm gonna be honest, the day toto introduced you to me, i knew i was screwed because you, y/n y/l/n, have consumed my every thought since. we quickly became friends and now you are my best friend. my shoulder to lean on, the one person i know i can count on; you’re the love of my life, you’re my one and only, you’re my everything. i wake up thinking about you and i sleep dreaming of you. there is no one on earth better for me than you and nothing would make me happier than being yours forever. so y/n, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

there was no way to stop the tears from flowing down your face no matter how hard you tried. "oh my god, lewis. absolutely... i can't think of anything i want more than to be your wife."

lewis slid the most beautiful rock you have ever seen on your finger before standing up. he held you and buried his face in your neck breathing you in. "i'm so happy right now. i honestly can't imagine my life without you, y/n/n."

"without us..." you whispered hoping he would get the hint and when you felt his body stiffen under your touch, you knew he did.

"no..." he said in utter disbelief.

your tears were back in full force and all you could do was nod your head excitedly. "i found out a couple days ago and i've been waiting to tell you i'm s–"

your sentence was cut short as lewis held your head and crashed his lips into yours. not only had you just agreed to marry him but you were carrying his child. your child. a creation of the love between you.

lewis pulled away and yelled to the room. "not only has this woman given me the honour of being my wife but she's now given me the greatest gift ever. one i've always wanted; the gift of fatherhood," he placed a hand over your stomach.

the room erupted in cheers. most of the women in the room including your mom, your best friends, susie, angela and lewis' mom were brought to tears by your news.

congratulations and hugs were passed around and lewis didn't leave your side the entire night after that. 

[dr4kenlvr]

looks just like a dream.. ♡

pairing: mikey sano, angry, peh-yan x gn!reader

genre/wc: fluff (0.5k)

request: Hey hey could you do some hcs for Mikey, Souya/angry and peh yan with an S/O that’s really pretty so a lot of people like them (for reference they get treated like teruhashi from saiki k or kiyoko from haikyuu) but they’re also sorta shy with people they don’t know and is sorta like kenma from haikyuu (Sorry if it’s worded weird)

a/n: not worded weirdly at all :) it's a super cute idea!! i wrote this as if the reader and the character are already dating as you wrote s/o! thanks for requesting <3

cw: feminine terms are used for the sake of the request, just a heads up!

MIKEY:

ngl.. mikey is super proud to have copped a s/o as gorgeous as you

to walk around school with you linked on his arm—albeit shyly, he does finds it adorable—and have people do double looks? wow <3 you're just that powerful huh

your shy nature is sweet to him, and he appreciates how humble you stay about your looks but he doesn't understand why

he once mentioned to draken that if he looked like you, he would never shut up about it

(draken says it's cause "you're an ass, and y/n isn't", to which mikey pouts with a "kennnnn!!!")

he just thinks you should be a tinsy bit more prideful about your looks!—but he is in no way going to force you to act another way

he's also there to fend off any weirdos that try to do more than stare at you. mikey does not tolerate that shit, nuh uh.

he has quite literally beaten up some people and simply left them in the halls, walking off to grab your hand swiftly with a peck on the cheek

"not on my watch, baby!"

he's a 10/10 bodyguard, who needs another 10/10 bodyguard (aka draken LMAO)

ANGRY:

uhm despite the permanent scowl on his face, he is screaming inside— 'why is everyone staring at me, just stare at y/n please!'

he can't fathom how you keep up with the constant glances and comments from classmates and passersby... until he realizes that you do have trouble—if your limited responses, lowered eyes, and tight hold on his hand didn't give anymore hints to him

suddenly wants to man up and become your guardian because there is no way angry will let his baby be uncomfortable !!

"don't worry, i'm here okay !?"

he literally growled at someone once and they were so terrified. the look on their face made you laugh and that only caused more people to gape at you because your "smile is so bright and pretty, oh my god!!"

angry: 'did i just make things worse...'

pls comfort him with smooches because he's trying his best truly

angry opts to wait by your door after class so that you two can get the FUCK out before you get bombarded by a hoard of fans LMAO

PEH-YAN:

peh-yan LIVES for you; he practically worships you like all the other people do AHAHA

the only difference is, he is actually dating you !!!

so you already know that peh-yan's pride is skyrocketing up to the moon because of that

you chose him. .. . out of everyone else that is begging for even a small acknowlegment from you??? wow.... truly amazed and blessed he feels

you don't like to boast and show off? no problem, he'll do it for you.

mf walks around all hunched as a gangster does, but he has a pinky locked with your own as you two dominate the school halls

so, peh-yan does not FUCK with anyone who tries anything with you okay?

he's probably a little too aggressive at times tbh

"WHAT YOU LOOKIN' AT PUNK?!" him to a guy who was just glimpsing at you

cue another person who stared at you a little too long, then peh goes "HUUUH? SOMETHING TO SAY LITTLE BITCH!?"

he's insufferable but he's yours so you have to tame him okay? <3

taglist: @dai-tsukki-desu @chuuae @kazuhoya @eriskaitto @gwynsapphire (send an ask or dm to be added!)

reblogs & comments are very appreciated <3

[carothehotmess]

My takeaways from Season 2 of The Wilds and my hopes for Season 3:

1. I really fucking enjoyed it. I understand the complaints about the boys taking away from the girls screen time, and I agree to an extent, but I think having the juxtaposition of the boys failing like so many of the tasks set directly next to the girls just thriving together was very much needed. Plus, it will be interesting to see how the boys bonds compare to the girls, and how their personalities mesh with each other!

2. The girls take priority in my hearts obvi but I really did enjoy some of the boys’ storylines!! The Ivan/Kirin storyline was a such great arc, especially compared to their developments on the island between like episode 1 and 5.

3. Henry is my absolutely favorite of the boy group and I just adore him. I want him to become besties with some of the girls. I want him to start humming a random and obscure song that Leah also knows. I want him to say something disparaging about parental expectations and institutions and Fatin to be like “hell yeah man.” I want him and Dot to have debates about survival techniques.

4. I want Bo and Shelby to bond over some of their shared religious trauma!! I think it would be so good for Shelby to be able to talk about it with someone who actually understands where she’s coming from!!

5. I also hope we get to see the southerners (the texas girls and the florida boys) bond a little over weather or food or something! And for Kirin and Rachel to discuss athletics and dealing with sudden changes that impact your sports career.

6. I want the boys to see the girls come together and come up with a plan and just like function as the found family unit they are, and realize that they are so out of their depth. Like I want some of the guys to try and take charge and have the girls immediately look at each other and just laugh.

7. I also want them to learn about what each group had to deal with!! Like both groups had to deal with some pretty harrowing shit. I want the guys to talk about how terrifying the jaguar was and then have Rachel just hold up her right arm and be like “I survived a shark attack.” I want the guys to just be like wow so we survived some pretty difficult physical stuff but they had whole ass mental trips to deal with too huh.

8. I cannot WAIT to see Leah try to explain to the others that Nora is still alive. Especially her bestie-in-mental-distress Rachel

9. Leah and Fatin WHO I CALLED IN SEASON 1 AND GAVE US SO MUCH THIS SEASON. Like I’m sorry but one or both of them is going to sleep with one of the guys and but then find their way back to each other FOR SURE

10. Alex Fitzalan as Seth was incredible. The way he managed to turn an at first endearing socially anxious rambling into something so sinister by the end of the season was superb. Like I might never look at him the same way again, and I already fell in love with him in The Society so that means something. He is a phenomenal actor.

11. Last but certainly not least, SHONI. Their story was so fucking cute this season. The pure moments. The fact that they were together and that sexual tension was still there in so many scenes (aka when Toni was watching Shelby go nuts over party planning and just got so hot for her like damn). The communication and the love and the beautifully shot scenes of them making out in the woods!!! Honestly I have nothing but high hopes for them they are the moment

[simonsslut]

birthday sex

Issei Matsukawa x f!reader

NSFW, 18+ MDNI

warnings: escalating?? does that make sense? no. but you’ll get it. couch sex, roommates, tipsy, too many “fuck”s and “pretty”s because I am brain dead (100% issei’s fault), issei being sexy as fuck like always, first person because im stupid. 

:: once again, like I always say, I suck ass at writing. so no complaining about it because im literally warning u rn.  I simply imagine these beautiful scenarios and write them out in a worse way. if you could read my mind, these would be much much better, trust me. 

-it’s issei’s birthday, aka I am being extra feral for this man. 

issei has piercings and sleeve tattoos in this. so just imagine the beauty of that.

;)

issei’s not the type of person to like big parties for his birthday. he likes to have a small get together with about 3-5 close friends. 

but this year, no one could make it. everyone who was a main to come to his small yearly birthday get together, was out of the country. either on business, or visiting family. 

this didn’t mind issei though, for he was never fond of his birthday in the first place. 

I was working till 5pm today so I wasn't able to spend the morning with him. but as his roommate and close friend, I decided that i’d spend the night with him, cook dinner and watch a movie once I got home. 

as I walked through the door after work, the apartment was quiet. knowing issei, I rolled my eyes as I took off my shoes and walked towards his bedroom. 

I peaked the door open slightly, learning from past events, and saw him still in bed, laying on his back, shirtless.

I groaned and walked over to his bed, laying beside him. “why are you still in bed?” I ask. “had a lazy day,” he sighed and yawned. “how was work?” he asked, “meh.” 

I turned my head to face him as he was already looking at me with his tired eyes, startling me a bit. “wanna help me make dinner?” I suggest. he closes his eyes as he stretches his arms out then nodding to the idea with a small smile on his lips. “ok but let me go change,” I sigh, laying my hand on his chest for support and pushing myself up off of his bed, not thinking much of it. but he was. 

once I left his room to go change in mine, he sat up and shook his head slightly, “fuck. this is not good,” he said to himself under his breath.

-

after I changed into comfortable clothes, I was in the kitchen already taking out the pots and ingredients, placing them on the counter for preparation. as I was doing so, issei lazily walked down the hallway and into the kitchen, yawning and rubbing the back of his head then leaning against the counter, folding his arms. 

issei already knew what to do because we've made dinner together many times before this, so he started doing his work around the kitchen as we talked about random things, nothing specific in general. 

we lived in an average apartment, so our kitchen wasn't the biggest, but issei being a large man himself, it was kind of stuffy when we were cooking in the kitchen together. 

when he'd pass by me he'd grab my waist and push himself past, his arms roaming a little longer on my covered skin than they should, making my skin underneath my shirt tingle. or when I would pass him, my ass would rub against his crotch slightly, making him clench his jaw and slightly groan, covering it up with a cough, and trying to look anywhere else but at the area where I accidentally rubbed against him. 

while I was cutting vegetables and he was done with his task, he would lean against the counter, a little too close to me, making conversation as he slyly peaked down my shirt, it being easy for him considering how tall he is. 

as we wait for the food to finish cooking, both of us leaning on counters in front of each other, my legs placed in between his as I cross my arms, his arms being placed on the counter top behind him as he talks about a new manga he started to read, but me not being able to focus as I accidentally caught a peak at his dick imprint in his joggers and how his abs would flex every time he laughed at something stupid that he found incredibly funny for whatever reason. 

issei catches me staring and smirks but shifts when he notices my hardened nipples through my tanktop and how one of my tanktop straps has fallen a bit down my arm, feeling blood rush down to his dick so he stands up straight and makes an excuse to set out the plates because the food is almost done. 

us sitting opposite to each other at the small table, enjoying our dinner and taking sips of our beer as we laugh at the memory of Toru getting a little too clumsy when he was drunk, spilling his drink over hajime’s shirt which made him take it off for it to dry, causing Toru to blush a bright red the whole time as he stared at Hajime, causing Issei, Takahiro and I to make jokes and tease him about it till this day. 

issei finishing his beer and I offer to get him another one while he watches my ass as I walk towards the fridge and as I bend down to grab two beers, him catching a slight glimpse of my underwear underneath my loose pajama shorts, making the ache in his pants grow even more. 

after dinner I wash the dishes but he offers to dry them, occasionally spreading his arms behind me as his puts the dried dishes up In the cabinets over my head, always pushing his body a little into my sides instead of walking around me to get better access to the cabinets, making me come face to face with his tanned naked chest multiple times, causing me to gulp as I try to avoid it and the growing heat that im feeling. 

issei and I deciding to watch a movie on the couch, him always sitting dead center on the couch so I lean against the arm rest as my legs lay over issei lap while his hands rest on them. 

issei subconsciously rubbing his thumb over my thighs while he tries to focus on the movie. but im having trouble focusing because his hands are so warm, and so close to where I really want them to be. 

me sighing heavily and focusing back on the tv but isseis secretly struggling so he slowly pushing his hand a little higher up my thigh, slyly looking at my face to see if I react. him seeing how my chest rises slightly higher than it should and how my thighs clench together the tighter his grip gets. 

his hand roaming higher and he finally turns his head fully to look at me to already seeing me looking at him with heavy, needy eyes wanting him to finally just touch me, and he does. 

he acts quick, grabbing my hips and pulling me closer and onto his lap, facing him and he quickly connects his lips with mine in a messy and rough kiss indicating just how needy for each other we both actually were this whole time. 

as the kiss goes on into a deep makeout, me pulling away first to catch my breath and look down at his face. his pupils completely blown out, eyebrows furrowed and hair a bit messy because of me messing It up a bit from the makeout. he grips my hips and pushes them down against his bulge, receiving a small gasp from me and a grunt from him. 

he starts to grind my hips against he bulge as we continue to make out, me gripping onto his shoulders harder and harder the more he grinds my hips again him roughly and quickly. 

he lets out a groan while I let out whines every now and then the more needy and hot I get because of the friction. “fuck,” issei sighs as he parts from my lips, having enough of us being clothed. he looks up at me, “can I?” he says in a rough voice, receiving a quick nod from me. 

issei lifting my hips, him removing his pants and boxers, then him removing my shorts and underwear. taking a second to look at my wet cunt, his dick hardens even more. 

this wouldn't be a first for us seeing each other naked for we have been roommates for over a year. there's been walk in incidents and towel drop incidents. but when I watched as his hard dick released from his boxers, my heart dropped to my goddman ass. I knew he was big. but fuck. it was long and girthy. just thinking about how much it would stretch me out sent a shiver down my spine.

a wave of fear washed through me at the thought of him being inside of me. he's going to rip me apart. but that fear was immediately washed away by the feeling of arousal and neediness. 

he places me on his lap once again and starts to rub circles on my clit, wanting to prep me a bit first despite being embarrassingly wet just because of the grinding.

my face buried in the crook of his neck while my fingers dig into his hair as he starts to finger fuck me with two fingers. it being a bit of a stretch since it's been a while since I've actually hooked up with someone. 

as I start feeling like im getting close, I stop him “sei, please,” I whine, hoping he sort of understands. “please what?” he looks up at me with a slight smirk on his face, eyebrows furrowed. “I wanna cum on your cock,” I sigh against his ear making him tense and grip my hips tightly once again. “you’re gonna drive me insane, you.” he grunts.

he lifts my hips and places his cock at my entrance, exhaling as he pushes his tip in, which that alone has me shutting my eyes tightly and digging my nails into his shoulder. 

he pushes further in making me moan at the big stretch, pleasure taking over the feeling of pain and me dropping my head back while he bottoms out, his dick so big that it touches all the right places. I can feel the veins on his dick in me as he starts to thrust at a slow but steady pace, trying to get me used to the stretch.

he touches a sweet spot and I automatically clench around him which has him gripping my hips so tight that it’ll leave bruises. he starts to thrust into me harder and at a slightly faster pace, making me moan loudly, placing my hands In his hair once again to have something to pull. 

as issei’s rutting into me, he groans and pulls up my shirt making my breast fall out. “fuck you have such pretty tits,” he says as he grabs one and rubs circles around my hardened nipple, adding onto the intense pleasure that im feeling right now.

he starts to suck onto it while keeping at the fast pace which has me rolling my eyes back into my head as he licks and sucks at it while thrusting into me hard  and hitting all of my sweet spots, along with my cervix.

issei’s feeling me getting closer as I continue to clench around him so he goes even faster, chasing his high as well, moaning and grunting around my tit and using one of his hands to play with my other one.

im letting out sweet sounds along with moaning his name repeatedly as if its the only word I know as im being split in half by my roommate. “fuck- sei- im gon’ cum” I groan and he lets go of my tit, looking up at me, thrusting harder. “me too baby- ah- I wan’ cum in you,” he moans, “cum with me, pretty,” he sighs as he somehow goes impossibly faster, connecting our lips once again, letting is tongue in and me biting his lip as we both chase our highs. 

I moan into his mouth, seeing stars as the knot in my stomach snaps and I cum around his cock at the same time he releases his load into me groaning and fucking me through both our highs.

I slump onto his shoulders, his cock softening yet still half hard inside of me as cum leaks out onto his lap a bit and in between my legs.

“fuck, I've been waiting to do that forever,” he smirks and I lightly laugh, “me too,” I say and he locks eyes with me. “good.” he smirks once again, proceeding to place his hands on my ass and standing up while I straddle his waist, his cock still buried deep inside of me. 

“wha-where?” I ask still a bit sensitive from my orgasm. “to my bed, for round 2.” he says in a low rough tone, his dick starting to harden fully once again because of the feeling of me clenching around him at his words and the looks on his face.

;)

I genuinely suck ass at writing because I don't know how to properly write down my thoughts in great detail so im sorry if this doesn't make complete sense 🧍‍♀️

©isseisslvt ’s horny thoughts of 2022. enjoy.

no stealing my horny thoughts or my 5'2 ass self will hunt u down.

[escapenightmare]

hcs of what the bnha characters would be like if their s/o recieves an anonymous love letter in their locker or on their desk? thank you!

WHEN YOU GET AN ANONYMOUS LOVE LETTER.

― bakugou, denki, shoto, izuku x gn!reader

cw. cursing note. thanks for requesting!! <3

― KATSUKI BAKUGOU

he doesn't show he cares at first, and pretends he doesn't give a fuck about it, but once he sees the contents of the letter he'd quite literally be fuming.

“who the fuck do they think they are, sending a love letter to you? and an anonymous one too, what a loser.”

if you say you appreciate their gesture he'd be even madder than he was before because― he's your super angry boyfriend and he's right in front of you.

it's perfectly normal for him to get jealous over it.

but does he like it? no he doesn't; he hates feeling jealous in general because he doesn't want to come off as possessive and/or controlling towards you.

he'd try and brush the love letter off the first time (jk, he burns it once you say you don't want to keep it)

but the second time?

he is so pissed. he bombards you with questions like “can't that fuck see we're together?” “do you have any idea who it is?” “is this one of your dumb pranks?”

if you'd let him he'd send his friends off to find whoever the fuck that secret admirer was if he could.

unless you stop him― if you don't he'll just go on with his plan.

either that or he'll take matters into his own hands.

he would take extreme meassures and hide somewhere close by to your locker or peep somewhere next to your class so he can catch whoever it is once they stop next to your locker or go into the class, whichever happens first.

he will burn all the letters though.

and it's not just burning, he'll explode them into tiny little pieces.

as for whoever sent you the letter though, it's best to not go into details.

― DENKI KAMINARI

to be honest, he genuinely didn't care about it that much since he knew you wouldn't drop him for some “anonymous person who's too scared to show their face.”

don't tell him that's the literal meaning of anonymous― he knows that already.

but once you get more and more letters as the days pass, he'll definitely be very, very annoyed.

like bakugou, he does complain to tell his friends about it.

but unlike said blonde, he doesn't ask them to go hunt the anonymous person or anything.

denki straight up takes matters into his own hands and plans to hide somewhere so he can catch the person red handed in the act; though, it doesn't go as planned because he gets sidetracked and ends up playing 8 ball pool with sero online.

anyways, since that plan didn't work due to technical difficulties (or so he said), he goes to plan b aka a plan he totally didn't come up with on a whim.

put plainly, plan b is basically him just showing off your relationship.

he's naturally affectionate (he'll tone it down if you want him to, of course) but his affectionate nature slightly increases; among other things he swings your hands way more aggressively than he used to when you hold hands, kisses both your cheeks thrice before he drops you off at your next class, and talks about you way more than he used to. he thinks that if he's more affectionate with you, the anonymous person will see you two and just give up.

which is exactly what happens because the anonymous love letters stop after that.

― SHOTO TODOROKI

as dense as he can be, he knows a love letter when he sees one. meaning, he is agitated.

shoto kind of turns into a helicopter parent after that; he's literally everywhere, watching you (like aoyama is when you're watching mha)― you're going to the cafeteria? ok, he's right next to you. you're going to the library? wait a minute, he's grabbing his shoes. going to the bathroom? just joking, he's not that bad.

it does go up to the point where you have to sit him down and have a heart to heart about it

he didn't even realize he was being weird and stalkerish 😭 so he apologizes straight off the bat and pinky promises not to do it again.

but there's still the love letter problem so he talks to you about it, saying he doesn't like it and he finds it annoying.

there's nothing you can do about it though. since they're anonymous love letters, you can't talk to the person sending them and ask them to stop since you don't know who it is, and neither does shoto want either of you to waste time hanging or hiding around your class / locker waiting for them to show up

so he goes with the most convinient plan he could think of:

waiting it out; even if it requires extreme patience, anger management and forced smiles when he sees the pink envelopes on your table.

and it works! a few days later the letters stop, and shoto couldn't be any more happier.

you did notice that he was a little more affectionate in public than he was before the whole ordeal though.

just don't mention it to him.

― IZUKU MIDORIYA

he literally peeped over your shoulder to read it when you got a letter the first time

wasted no time in analyzing every single detail of the letter: paper size, handwriting, envelope type, ink color and gets into detective mode, trying to figure out who it is.

he might even ask his friend, detective shoto for help.

he doesn't do either of those things except analyze everything in his head and pout, trying to get to the bottom of this mystery.

he totally gets jealous of the poetic words the anonymous sender has written, since he hasn't ever given you a letter that poetic― let's be real, he's definitely given you a letter at least once.

he gets so very pouty and whiny if you keep the letters, but he refuses to admit it because he doesn't want you thinking he's controlling. you can see it through his hurried “you can keep it if you want to! idon'tmind-”

him refusing to keep eye contact shows it all.

either way, like shoto he'd prefer to wait it out but that doesn't mean he doesn't try to find out who it is, or he doesn't get jealous upset about it.

he would most definitely figure out who it is due to his amazing analyzing skills, but he wouldn't do anything direct except drop subtle (or not so subtle) hints at the person to show that izuku knows what's up. eg; holding your hand and kissing your cheek whenever said person is close by.

he lets out a genuinely relieved sigh when a few days pass by and you don't seem to be getting any more letters.

thanks for reading! likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[hhannigram]

Hey :) do you have a list of your top hannigram fics? 🤍

yes, yes i do! thank you for asking - here's fic recs part 1 i did a while ago, but since then i've read more <3

HANNIGRAM FIC RECS

//

at the moment my ultimate favourite, and 100% worth investing the time to read it:

Paragon by BloodyWar2411, 530k / When Hannibal met Will Graham (the man who had, three years prior, been mistaken for the Chesapeake Ripper), he expected amusement. What he got was his first taste of obsession. Dark and bitter in the back of his throat but achingly sweet on the tongue. He knew at once that this feeling, this Man, would consume him. And Hannibal would consume Will right back.

//

I Am Not A Morning Person by StratsWrites, 14k / I Am Not A Morning Person opened at 4:30 AM. Usually. Their menu was obscene and ever changing, and they offered shots of tequila in their coffee to anyone with an ID. Hannibal fell in love with their grouchy baker anyway.

Pretty Kitty by StratsWrites, 42k / Hannibal had never wanted a pet, of any kind. [..] So, when he woke on a Tuesday morning to the sound of a crash from the kitchen, without the accompanying scurry of fleeing footsteps, Hannibal knew to be on the alert.

The Fox's Wedding by thehoyden, 11k / Because Will’s life is bullshit, he gets gently kidnapped from the hospital after Hannibal guts him.

Falls the Shadow by littlesystems, 72k / [..] an AU where Bedelia is Will’s psychiatrist instead of Hannibal, Will makes a series of increasingly questionable life choices, and no one should ever take Bedelia’s advice. Ever.

A Gentler Ending by damnslippyplanet, 8k / Perhaps what is called for is nothing so simple and clean as separation or joining. It will have to be a field amputation, of sorts. Fast and brutal, and neither of them entirely whole afterwards. But, perhaps, survivable. [..] A little Digestivo fix-it fic because sometimes you just want your beloved characters to USE their WORDS and avoid several more years of pain.

An Ounce of Wit by Winddrag0n, 69k / “It’s heavier than I expected. Anyways, here.” She walks in front of Will, and in her hands she is holding a long, furry snake. It’s white on the bottom, the top a dirty grey, with dark, blurry rosettes sprinkled along its length. [..] “It’s attached to your ass, dude. You have a fucking tail.” AKA a modern magical AU where the entire point is to turn Will Graham into a catboy.

Atë by Winddrag0n, 50k / The FBI are after a serial killer who preys on online celebrities, and their investigation leads them to renowned floriculturist Hannibal Lecter, who seems more interested with one of the investigators than helping with the case itself. With a shared interest in gardening, Will finds himself drawn to the strange man, and can't seem to muster the desire to rebuff any of his advances. [..]

The Postman's Knock by ironlotus & laststop, 48k / Guilford, a quiet, well-to-do neighborhood in Baltimore, has its peace shattered when Will, a discourteous postman, takes over their route, makes a habit of mishandling their mail, and wages war on Hannibal’s sanity. A war which will end in bloodshed, one way or another.

Golden Promises by Shotgun_sinner, 68k / Will stays for the dinner party, where he may or may not hallucinate that Dr. Lecter is wearing a gold plug in front of his friends. Hannibal gets Will treated for his encephalitis, and they grow closer in Will's recovery than they ever were before. The maybe hallucination keeps Will up at night, and he learns that the feelings he has for Hannibal might not be platonic after all.

Four Days, Three Nights by Devereauxs_Disease, 10k / Hannibal Lecter needs to get to the Amundsen-Scott Station in Antarctica. Unfortunately, his research partner had other plans. Stranded in the middle of nowhere, Hannibal will have to rely on a scraggly dog sledder named Will Graham to get him across the frozen wasteland. What could go wrong with that plan?

Awaken by NeuroWriter14, 61k / Will Graham is the son of wealthy socialite Frances DuBois. Raised by his mother, he learned from a young age the darkest parts of himself and how and when to embrace them. Hannibal Lecter is a renowned psychiatrist and a darling of the Baltimore elite. He's known for his extravagant parties for the elite. One night, a newcomer to his party captures his attention. Both are serial killers.

oh, to be the life and soul will be the death of me by Serindrana, 7k / "[..] A muscle by Hannibal’s left eye twitches, from the unpleasant combination of irritation, confusion, and fascinated charm that is circulating through his upper chest at the moment. For a moment, he dares hope that Will is drunk enough that he won’t remember finding the basement in the morning." AKA The third time Hannibal Lecter invites Will to a dinner party, he says yes.

invisible to all/the mind becomes a wall by Serindrana, 75k / “Somebody got inside his head and moved all the furniture around.” [..] & First problem: He doesn’t know how he got here. Chilton’s car, likely, but he doesn’t have keys in his pocket, and there’s no sign of any vehicle at all. Second problem: He also doesn’t know the extent of the carnage between here and the BSHCI, or even, with any real certainty (a lie, that’s a lie, isn’t he finished lying to himself?), that he caused it, which means he has no idea how quickly or easily law enforcement will find him. Together, those problems leave him with very little to formulate an escape plan. What he does have, though, is a gun and access to Hannibal Lecter’s house. [..]

[writefightandflightclub]

Captain of the team

AKA: Santi’s a dom unless Will’s in the room

(Fem!Reader x Triple Frontier boys)

Summary: When it comes to group sex, you need one F to spell “fuuuck” and 3 M’s to spell “Mmm” (AKA, Santi’s not as straight as he thought, and other things he learns when the boys dick you down together.).

Genre: Porn with some plot.

Rating: EXPLICIT AS ALL HELL. DO NOT READ OR INTERACT UNLESS YOU ARE 18+ ⚠️

Word count: 20k. LONG, but broken into sections.

Author’s note: I know the TF x group sex / gangbang / poly sex has been DONE. The existing examples are stellar ✨ and each so unique that I haven’t really wanted to tackle it myself! Tbqh, I probably didn’t do anything fresh with the beloved trope (and oh boy this evolved so much as I was writing and became something entirely different to what I was shooting for) but I hope I managed to put some small spin on it, somehow, that means you enjoy reading this?! One huge disclaimer: Benny’s not there, I’m sorry, I know some of you will be exceedingly upset with me (but don’t hate me bc neither is Tom, okay - so bear in mind I could have been even meaner to you! 😂) Finally, READ THE WARNINGS to decide if it’s your thing. It’s far softer and ultimately more loving than it sounds when I just list out all of the explicit acts they perform (for real, who says gagging on dick can’t be romantic though, lol, it’s actually a thing that can be so personal 😆), but there are defo things in there which might not be for everyone! So, you’ve literally been warned! If it’s not for you, that’s fine! P.s . This is the theatrical release, I guess. The Director’s Cut went further with some of the kinks (I am a slut for some consensual degradation), but maybe you can convince me to share some deleted scenes, who knows? 😉 I also left it very open for prequels and sequels.

Warnings: EXPLICIT SMUT: all consensual - some consent happens off-screen. MMM on F Gangbang -> mixed M/F + M/M group sex. Things the boys to do reader (as part of planned, consensual scene): service kink; degradation; name calling (toy, slut, whore, good girl etc.) oral sex inc. gagging / brief rough oral, cum swallowing; cum play; spitting in mouth; slave/master dynamics; dom/sub dynamics (sub!reader); brief ball play (sucking, resting on face); P in V sex (unprotected); creampies; cumshots (on face / body); masturbation; fingering; oral sex (receiving); orgasm denial; anal sex (unprotected); gangbang (ish, no DP, sorry!); light slapping (clit); light choking; kissing; aftercare and lots of check-ins / love 💕 Other explicit stuff: rimming (f giving m receiving); first time having explicitly queer sex; MM anal; MM blowjob; M eating M’s cum; sub!M; MM kissing; slight praise kink including terms such as “good boy”/“baby boy”; hair pulling; slight size kink; aftercare. (ask if you’d like more info on any of the above warnings!). General warnings: alcohol mentions, Catholicism mentions, language, mild angst- implied past relationship fuck-up (vague). Disclaimer: this is not a guide to real-life sexual activity. It’s a fantasy fic! Be safe! 😊🧡

Shout-out: to @astroboots because CiCi’s Santi is basically canon to me now. Definitely influenced this Santi calling Frankie “Frank” in this fic. I didn’t used to do that but it’s the only way I can hear it now! 🙈You’re all gonna want to RUN to check out CiCi’s Homecoming series tbh, for the most beautiful Santi/Frankie/reader relationship. Trust me! 🧡 Also, I have to shout-out the OG and flawless TF gangbang fic by @mylifeliterally, the amazing Santi/Frankie threesome by @adverbedly, @autumnleaves1991-blog’s amazing Santi x reader x Benny series, and @charnelhouse’s TFboys x reader series. (What are you even doing in THIS fic to be honest because you NEED to read all of these RIGHT NOW instead!!) I’m sure there are more I need to mention too but sorry that they escape me for now! (LMK if you wanna be untagged!)

Also a huge thank you to everyone who helped me understand American football a little bit! So sorry I used my new-found knowledge in such a crude way 🍆💦😅

THEY’RE GONNA NEED A BOAT WITH HOW WET THEY’LL GET YOU 😂

Pre-Game

“You okay, baby? You ready?”. Will dips to plant a soft kiss on your temple, the moment before you enter the scene far more romantic than you’d ever have expected.

As his large, warm hands inch slow and steady down your back, over silk and lace and skin, you feel a molten heat surge in your core. A slick builds between your legs simply owing to the fact he’s fully clothed and you’re dressed in something barely there, feeling on display as his eyes rake over you.

“Yes,” you nod, a subtle hitch in your breath which grates your words - makes them husky. “Very ready.”

A knowing, confident smile inches over Will’s face and it makes you hot for him - his easy manner a clear sign of the trust and bond between you as you prepare for what lies in store beyond the door. And, even though you mirror his ease, his comfort, his piercing blue eyes study you carefully just to be sure that you want this. With affection, feeling reassured, he dips to press another tender kiss to the middle of your brow, his blond beard tickling your nose.

With a surge of confidence as you feel Will’s arousal press against your hip, you loop your arms around his neck and plant a sweet, lingering kiss to the corner of his lips. You can’t help the devilish grin which claims your face, and, feigning a coyness which you expect Will to see straight through, you bury your words against his cheek. “Do you… think they’ll enjoy me?”

Will’s chest shakes up against yours then, with a deep, resonant chuckle. It isn’t mocking - instead it is familiar, reassuring- and you can picture the creases radiating from around your golden boy’s eyes like beams of warm sun. “Don’t act all shy now, angel,” he says, tone as tender as his touch, meaning even his dirty words sound flowered. “This whole deal was your idea, you filthy little thing.”

Your lips quirk again into a mischievous smile. It was your idea, that’s right, but still, you’re not past fishing for compliments from your big strong man. “But will they? Enjoy me?” you purr.

Will’s eyes sweep over you - or as much of you as he can see with you held so close. That means your face and lips and tits, and a hum of appreciation reverberates in his chest. “Baby. How could they not?” he praises, voice thick and dripping like warm honey. “You’re delectable. Delicious.”

You love him like this, slow moving and teasing and all restrained. Will can end you with the barest of touches, as it makes you crave what you know the man is capable of unleashing. The latent power of him. The force of him.

Even now, you gasp as he gingerly grips your chin, tilting your head to the side and you follow his lead, offering your neck to him freely. The air itself grows syrupy as he sinks his pink mouth to your skin, all supple warm tongue and ticklish brush of blonde goatee against your pulse point. You whimper, as he works a chain of kisses up to the shell of your ear, decorating you with a string of glistening pearls. “So pretty,” he whispers, praises, and his voice shivers down to your bones, making you heat from within. As you whimper for him, you feel the curl of a satisfied smile against your cheek - a shifting scrape of facial hair and muscle. “So pretty… and we’re about to ruin you, Princess.”

Fuck. At the mere suggestion of what is to come, a deep note keens in your chest, breathy and pitching-up at the end - a cracked-open sound already.

You can feel Will getting excited too, the press of his warm firm body all bulges - pecs and biceps and bulk and increasingly, that thick, straining mass beneath denim.

You pull away from him though, sultry, teasing, and his lips and eyes and hands and his whole damn being chase your skin - the feel of you. His cock even fills to reach for you, the tenting arousal evident in his jeans.

“Mmmph,” Will sounds, tone petulant as he immediately feels the loss of your warmth in his arms. “Can’t I have you all to myself just a little bit longer?”

Well, now there’s a thought. The smouldering look he’s giving you is certainly tempting; but, you resist this pleasure, in favour of the pleasures in store. “No, handsome,” you coo, in a husky tone which you hope sinks all the way into his crotch. “Remember? Today you have to share.”

A gulp trails down Will’s throat and you feel some pride in it - he’s so hard to fluster - and then he is sweeping his eyes over you just once more, head to toe this time, and shaking his head in utter disbelief at the sight of you -“Goddamn”. Next, he slides his warm grip down your arm and along the underside of your wrist. As a pleasant hum beds down under your skin he raises your hand to his lips, the pad of his thumb gently stroking back and forth as he plants a kiss to each of your knuckles like some gallant prince. And then, adjusting his erection with a downwards tug on the crotch seam of his pants, he offers you an adoring, doe-eyed grin. “I can’t wait to watch you, angel. You’re gonna look so good taking care of us.”

Then, with fascination, you watch his expression and manner subtly shift. You watch him enter his role, and his eyes are sterner and colder as he turns to you. You feel a thrill deep in the pit of your stomach as he reaches one arm -roped with popping veins- up to the back of your neck and squeezes, driving you on towards the door with a measured shove, his voice a deep, dark drawl now. “Now get in there, slut, the boys are waiting.”

They are.

Waiting. 

Waiting with one express purpose.

Today, Will is going to share, and together, they are going to ruin you.

First Quarter, Second Quarter

“Fuuuck,” Frankie keens, his voice deep and frayed and stuttering apart like an engine struggling to start as your mouth sinks down on his length, again and again and again with a delicious glug.

Frankie should know fine well he’s supposed to play into the role; to get a little rough with you - that’s what you want - but apparently what you’re doing to him feels far too divine for that, because instead of... anything, his head is thrown back on to the lip of the couch, his eyes screwed shut and breaths entirely ragged. And his hands? His hands are wildly fisting for some purchase, claws sinking into whatever is nearby.

Well, “whatever is nearby” happens to be the sturdy thighs of Santi and Will, respectively, sat at either side of him, both entirely rapt while watching this whole thing go down - go down your throat that is.

“Jesus. Fuck is right, Frank,” Santi says in awe, his own hard cock twitching in his pants and he has to shift in his seat - has to unzip his fly to make room because he’s too full. Too full and tender as Frankie twists, burying his head in his buddy’s neck and moaning right next to his ear, hot breath fanning over Santi’s neck and making him shiver - sending a glorious prickle crawling under his skin and all the way to the tip of his dick.

Santi’s never thought about his friend in that way -at least, not before right now, not that he’d admit- but the other man’s noises are… certainly doing something for him. Something in the crotch area, specifically.

Goddamn, so is the sight of you. Holy shit, look at you, in this silly little outfit, half your tits and ass hanging out, and that smug, self-satisfied glint in your eyes. That look in your eyes as you accommodate Frankie almost all the way. How fucking pleased you are with yourself because of the fact you have all three men sat hard and straining before you and so eager to be… serviced.

“Please, she isn’t even trying. Stop teasing and make him come, honey,” Will commands coolly, reaching across Frankie’s lap to grab you by the back of the head in his broad, sure grip. To do Frankie’s job for him and drive you down on the man’s length until you are spluttering with it.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Santi exclaims as Will holds you there and you take it, all the way, and -fuck- he had expected this would be a fun experience for him, sure, but he’d never realised how much he would enjoy watching. Watching Will’s brow burdened with purpose, face stern and all angles and his piercing blue eyes cold and hard and intimidating. Watching Frankie lose it, eyes screwed shut and lips parted and squirming - almost bucking off the couch in ecstasy and desperately clawing at anything he can touch like something feral. And those noises out of his mouth? Holy shit.

Finally, and last but definitely not least, Santi is awed by the sight of you, so dutifully gagging on Frankie’s length as Will holds you down. Holds you until you can’t take it - until you tap out with your palms on their thighs and he allows you to surge off of him, all spluttering noises and cock swollen, spit-shined lips, still linked to Frankie by gossamer threads, and that alone would be enough - more than enough to tip Santi over the edge but you don’t relent there though; no. Next, your hand wraps around the slick base of Frankie’s cock, making him look huge in your grip, your liberal spit inching down over his balls and you begin to pump, your tongue and lips working all over Frankie’s shaft and his artfully contoured head until he is undone and filling your mouth up.

Fuck, that’s a pretty mouth.

Fuck, that’s a pretty cock too.

Santi’s own arousal throbs, in dire need of some attention by now, and so he grips himself in the circle of his hand and squeezes a little. Squeezes; however, he immediately has to stop. Has to stop pumping himself or he’d nut at the sight of Frankie still pulsing his seed into your throat, flooding over your tongue, that deep crimson flush over the ruddy head of him, and fuck, you’re swallowing it down and all the while you’re looking at Santi. Looking at Santi and giving him the eye since it’s no use looking at Frankie - the man’s head buried in Will’s chest by now, the larger man smoothing his hand over his cheek and his patchy beard and helping him come back down with a smug grin plastered over his chiselled features.

So, here you are instead, eyeing Santi like nothing he’s ever seen -as though you’re promising him “you’re next” even as you swallow Frankie’s load down with relish, his hot cum slipped down your throat and the residual salt tang of him being licked from your teeth and lips and fuck if Santi doesn’t wanna kiss you while you still taste of him.

Santi doesn’t kiss you though. Doesn’t make a move to. Doesn’t make any move at all. Just sits there with his jaw slack and his dick in his hand as though he’s not good at this. As though he’s forgotten all the ways he can take a woman apart or all the ways he might get his rocks off. Instead of making a move -the thing he does, the thing he’s fucking known for- he’s holding his own dick in his hand and he can hardly believe what he’s seeing. Can hardly believe it’s true.

It all feels unreal; something akin to the moments after an explosion when all there is is ringing - blurred noise and slurred sound and blurred reality except this time it’s a good thing, his body vibrating; humming with pleasure already and you haven’t even touched him.

You haven’t touched him… yet, but the dark promise in your eyes hints at what’s coming.

He’s next.

And so, after doing a thorough job of milking Frankie for every drop, draining his balls dry, you lift off the man’s softening dick with a pop, his flushed head shined and sucked clean, and yet you only look hungry for more.

Hungry, and you bite your lower lip and dip your head - playing all deferential - and you look to Will. You look to Will, and Santi always fancied himself in charge but it’s obvious now - it’s Will, isn’t it? The only fucker in the room holding it together, sitting there with a shit-eating grin and looking about as fucking pleased with himself as you do while he watches his woman dismantle his buddies, taking them apart piece by mother-fucking piece.

“Enjoying yourself, baby?” Will asks you in his deep, steady drawl and you offer him a wicked smile. You are brazen as all hell, looking your fucking boyfriend in the eye while your lips and chin are still shined with spit from gagging on Frankie’s size and Santi can’t handle how fucking hot you are. How this is the hottest fucking thing he’s ever done, ever seen, and you still haven’t even touched him.

“Yeah, I thought so, you fucking whore,” Will scolds, his expression darkening, the smile dropping from his face and his words gathering dark. “Give Pope’s cock some attention now, you greedy little toy.”

Fuck. He’s next.

Santi’s next and he feels already like he’s floating outside of his own body. Floating like he’s in some fever dream, but somehow Will’s voice drags him back into the room. “You good, Pope?” Will asks with just a hint of amusement as his buddy is lost for words, and Santi finally shivers down into his own body. Will’s voice is steady - deep and earthy, and Santi realises suddenly that it always did ground him, even in the heat of battle. Always brought him back to the moment, giving him comfort and purpose, Will a constant calm amidst choas.

Santi blinks wordlessly still -has he even fucking said anything this whole damn time?- his jaw dropped open and his lashes fluttering as though he’s a shy virgin or some shit. “Uh… uh-huh,” he insists, voice grogged by lack of use, and a slow pearly smile drags over Will’s chiselled features. “Good. Want a turn of her?” he offers, and fuck, was his voice always so deep? Did it always hit so deep?

Does he? Does he want a turn? Hell, yeah he does. He’ll probably nut in you in seconds but yes - yes he fucking does, thank you very much.

“Yes,” Santi rasps, and the word barely comes out, so he tries it again. “Yes. Yeah, I do. Please.” Fuck if he knows why he’s being so damn polite about it, but it is what it is. He needs you. He’d beg for it if he had to but look at you, so willing.

“Yeah you fucking do,” Frankie praises as he comes back down to earth, still panting as he turns his head back from Will’s chest, bringing his voice tantalisingly close again to Santi’s ear, his lips so close to the bare skin at the column of his neck that if he leaned a little he could kiss him. “Shit. Feels so good in that wet little mouth, man.”

Christ, Frankie talking dirty is something else.

“Give him a turn,” Will orders coolly, eyebrows raised and head dipped and tone stern like he won’t fucking tell you again. The Miller brother is apparently the only one of the lot of them hitting the brief, even as his own erection sits nestled beneath the band of his black underwear, his jeans unzipped to offer breathing room to the veiny, straining mass of him.

This brief, this idea? It was you - it was all you, and then suddenly it was all of them too.

You had this fantasy, see. About being used. But not just being used by anyone. Being used by them. About them all watching the game -or whatever, something on the flatscreen. Ignoring you mostly, except for when you were serving them. Bringing them snacks, beers, anything they asked for, whilst wrapped up like a present in this obscenely skimpy little outfit. And then, the scene progressing. Serving them in other ways too, while they treated you like a little toy, made for their pleasure. While they watched the game or whatever and barely acknowledged you except when they were using you to get off.

You’d been very clear about that. Very explicit about how you enjoyed being degraded a little. You’d wanted them almost bored with it.

Well, it’s funny then, isn’t it? Because Santi has never been further away from bored in his goddamn life. He has never been so riveted, so captivated, and all he’s done so far is sat with his dick in his hand and fucking watched.

You flash a bratty, insolent look to Will as he speaks - God you’re a minx, fucking delicious - and the man licks his lips at the sight of you, kneeling and compliant and eager and about to be used all over again. Santi watches Will work his throat around a hard swallow. Watches his eyes darken with lust all his own and he knows the man’s envisaging taking his turn with you. And on the flip side, Santi is engrossed with the way you are held rapt as well, bound and controlled effortlessly by Will’s cool, quiet authority. Speaking of: “Stop distracting me from the game and suck on Pope’s cock - I won’t be pleased if I have to make you.”

Well, Santi’s definitely not going to argue with that plan - and it looks like you’re not either. He’s certainly not; not after the noises Frankie was just making. “Yeah, yeah,” he encourages, whisper soft, tipping his chin up as you slink towards him on your knees, an utterly devastating glint in your eye. “That’s it, hermosa,” he encourages, voice sunken with need and barely there - as if he’s never given an order in his fucking life. Never spoken a word in his fucking life. “Come put your mouth on me.”

Christ - never mind Frankie coming apart- he couldn’t have looked further from bored while you sucked him off and Santi’s not sure he’s got the memo either. You want him to be mean, but look at you. He just wants to fucking worship you.

He loves you too much to-

No. Wait.

No. He parks that thought for later. Buries it even. Maybe for a therapy session where he can talk about why on Earth he’d fall for his best friend’s girl.

Instead, he focusses up. After all, it’s not like he isn’t into the idea of all this - not like he doesn’t get the premise of all of them treating you some kinda way. For sure, it turns him on too - more than he could have realised.

Even the discussions beforehand had gotten Santi as hard as a rock. In the weeks leading up to this, he can’t remember ever jerking off quite so vigorously or so often. Can’t remember coming quite so hard in a long while. The conversations about which skimpy little outfit you would wear, and the fashion shows which followed. Talking about exactly what you liked (and didn’t), exactly what they could do to you (and what they couldn’t). What you could do to them and all the ways how. You’d all been meticulous about planning it - Will especially, of course, like it was a fucking military operation. Hell, Santi could swear they’d done less prep pre-Lorea.

Everyone was clear on their role; but, now that Santi has you here, on your knees like this, fuck if he doesn’t want to give you every shred of his focus and attention like you deserve.

Luckily, he’s a generous lover - if you want him to be mean, he can do that for you. Can give you what you need - take care of you like that. “Yeah, come here,” he coaxes you, his voice finally coming back to him, laying a sugared-trap. “Open your mouth,” he commands - still softly, still brandishing his ruddy, veined length in his hand, a purple flush creeping over the head of him. Shifting his hips forward on the couch so that he can smack you in the cheek with his need-laden cock a few times for good measure, before dipping the head of him into your wetness and warmth, letting the heaviness of him fall over your tongue and the weight of his hand settle on top of your head. “There you go, baby girl,” he soothes as you take him, opening up around him and getting used to his girth. “That’s it. Such a good little toy.”

Shit, Frankie wasn’t wrong, you feel good - and a cracked, disbelieving laugh even keens in his throat, his hips jolting up on instinct as he seeks to bury himself balls-deep in your mouth. 

“Hnnng. You look pretty getting sucked off, Pope,” Frankie rumbles next to his ear and fuuuuck.

Santi could nut right now. “Unnf, you fucking asshole, Frank,” he curses, as he feels a jolt of pleasure zip along his length - making his whole body tingle. 

But, thankfully -and he’s not even sure how- Santi remembers his role, and maybe that’s a good thing right now. Maybe it’s a good thing that he can simply guide your head down on his shaft like you’re a little toy. That he can simply sit there in his baseball cap, jeans pushed down around his hips, obnoxiously chewing his gum and ever so casually fucking into you. Watching the flickering flat screen and focussing on the background drawl of the commentator instead of how good it feels between his legs. Maybe it’s a good thing - because if Santi directed his full attention to you, like he wants to - if he directed his attention to Frankie or even Will, each of them languidly stroking their hard-ons in his periphery... If he did that, he’d come undone right there and then, and after so long waiting for you, he is keen to make this last. 

That’s all very well, except - ohhhhh. Ah. Jesus, where did you misplace your gag reflex all of a sudden because he’s fucking buried in you to the hilt, your nose settled all the way down into the patch of dark curls, forehead pressed against the slight softness of his stomach. 

Grabbing your hair in his fist, Santi pulls you off him urgently, his hips stuttering, breathing deeply until he can regain some morsel of control.

You look at him then - how you had looked at him once, so many years ago; before Will - your gaze veiled with innocence and lashes batting up at him and devouring him and wrecking him and he can hardly tear his eyes away.

Apparently the others can’t look away from you either, resonant hums of approval coming from his right, hands pumping their stiffened cocks with increasing vigour.

Still, Frankie pauses his own ministrations for a moment as Santi gusts out a breath, warm and sweating and shuddering and on the edge. “Come here, idiota,” the man breathes, deceptively soft, gingerly lifting the baseball cap from off of Santi’s head and rifling a hand through his grizzled curls for good measure.

Santi tries to ignore all of it. You, the look of you, the feel of you. The way Frankie’s small act of service makes his stomach flip. The way your hands are pressed flat and snaking up his thighs. The way Frankie’s hand lingers on his head a little longer than necessary, fingers raking through the length at his crown. “Better?” Frankie asks him, in a familiar tone. A tone that says he promises to always be there when Santi is in a pinch. To be there whether he’s bleeding out on some jungle floor or whether he’s too drunk on your mouth to take his hat off while you suck his balls dry.

“Better?” Frankie repeats, and Santi imagines answering his question with a kiss, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t yet, but as he turns his head to his buddy there is the hint of a promise there too. A promise that he’ll get his turn as well. A promise Santi would be keen to chase if you weren’t sucking his soul out of his dick like you’re trying to exorcise him from his own body. “Fuck. Look at this, boys,” Santi says in awe before he even really realises what he’s saying. “Fucking look at this pretty little slut choking on my cock.”

The boys chuckle next to him, throaty and deep and gruff and it does things to him, especially as your tongue circles diligently around the tip of him. “She loves your cock, Pope,” Will drawls. “Uhhh. Look at her - the little cumslut’s so hungry for your load.”

Santi wasn’t ready. Ready and willing, yes; but not prepared. For how much he’d enjoy being watched.

And, uhhhhh, holy shit, apparently you liked being talked about like this - like you’re not even there as they compare notes - because next, you hum pleasantly around his length. You suck him more vigorously and reach your hand up to squeeze and tug his balls, and Santi tips his head right back, moaning into Frankie’s neck as you work him.

Jesus, the man smells good.

“Fuuuck, cariño,” Frankie breathes, a tremor in his voice and Santi isn’t even sure. Isn’t sure whether his buddy is talking to you or to him; but part of him doesn’t much care - either way he likes it.

Santi is on the edge. He’s on the edge and, in this moment, he looks to Will, a helpless, sideward glance. He looks to Will because of course he does. Because that’s who everyone looks to when they’re in need, when they’re needy, when they need an order, and he watches Will tug his shirt off over his head, putting his rippling muscles on display, his latent power obvious and primed and his blue eyes intent on your mouth and Santi’s cock filling it. Looking at him too. Enjoying him too. 

Fuck.

Santi’s eyes screw shut then and he’s not faring much better than Frankie had by this point - not that’s he’s complaining - the sight of you and sound of Frankie and raw power of Will almost too much. Almost. Too much and yet somehow he wants… more.

“Wait ‘til we’re all done with you. Gonna paint you with cum, baby. Fill all your greedy holes, huh?” Santi moans hard when Will says that, and his eyes would roll back into his head -probably- if they weren’t already fluttered closed, long dark lashes fanning on his cheek.

He wants to. Wants to paint you. Fill you. But Santi listens to Will and he can almost imagine the man is talking to him. About him and not you. 

That thought, along with the wicked sensations you’re delivering gets Santi far too close to the edge all over again, and so he tugs on your hair to have you release him from the wet, slippy channel of your throat. His busted knees quaking beneath him -so much so that he thinks this might be it, might finally be the moment they decide give out- Santi stands, tugging his tee over his head and tossing it aside. Shifting his jeans and boxers further down his thighs with a jangle of his belt, baring his ass to Frankie and Will and not caring.

And then… Then, he looks back at you, kneeling ever so obediently and expectantly at his feet. With a grunt, his brow burdened with a furious need, Santi takes his length in his own fist and begins to pump, with a pace suggesting he’s about to spill his load. You simply smirk deliciously, raising an eyebrow and tipping your face up towards him before closing your eyes and bracing - flinching at intervals as you await the sudden spurt of thick ropes of come being dumped over your face. “Nuh-uh. Open your mouth, you little slut,” he growls, enjoying this power play, the mischievous glint in your eyes encouraging him. “Open your mouth. Gonna come over your tongue and I don’t want you to swallow. Keep it in there, understand? Let me see it.”

He hears a needy, awed moan from behind him and meanwhile a whine slips from your lips - the sounds a divine contrast of hard and gruff and sweet and liquid. 

You answer him, making the closest sounds to a yes Santiago as you can with your mouth open wide for him, pink tongue glistening. E, aaa-eee-aaa-ooo.

And then, Will is standing too to get a better view. Frankie also. The men stand until they’re all crowding you, lengths brandished as you kneel. They are stood forming a gaggle around you, delivering mumbled, awed words of both praise and degradation, the syllables mingling with the wet, rhythmic fap of Santi’s hand and then…

Liquid.

Warm and sudden ropes of salt sprayed into your mouth, over your lips, across your cheek as Santi’s aim falters in the moment. As he stutters his hips into his hand and paints you with his thick, pearly seed.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl,” Will praises.

“Show me,” Frankie asks in awe and you stick out your tongue, almost proudly. You exhibit your face covered in his load and slipping from your smooth skin, coursing down towards your jaw.

Then, Will grabs the underside of your chin in his hand and stoops over, his long, toned body hinging at the hips. “Yeah, show us. Keep that pretty mouth open.” You moan, flowered vowel noises and Will just grips you harder, tipping your chin up and ceremoniously spitting in your mouth.

Well, fuck.

If Santi could come all over again - if it was possible - he thinks he would in that moment, watching Will do this to you and you loving it. Listening to him order you around. Telling you to swallow down Santi’s load then show them all your mouth is empty. Dragging your head towards his crotch so that he can rest his balls over your mouth and nose, rubbing them on you and moving the remaining come -his come- around your face.

Santi wonders if Will might take your mouth too, but he’s still showing some restraint it seems. Still patiently waiting his turn, and so instead, his touch softens around your jaw. He strokes your cheek tenderly despite the mess of spit and seed. “You good, baby?” he asks you softly, checking-in. “You liked that, huh?”

Will brings you to standing and you grip his forearms to steady yourself and you smile - a bright, beautiful smile that knocks Santi for six. Then, you tongue the remaining pearls of him from your lips before wiping your mouth on the back of your arm. “Fuck, yeah.”

Will looks at you and the energy between the two of you is sizzling. Alive and consuming and Will’s hard as a rock between your bodies and God, Santi would love to watch the man take you. Would love to watch his primed, coiled muscles in action, dominating your form. It’s not like he hasn’t thought about it before. Hasn’t imagined it.

“Let me feel you, huh?” Will purrs, his lips twitching into a smile. “Let me feel how wet you are?”

Santi watches, his jaw dropped open all over again, still reeling from that orgasm and still unable to tear his eyes away from you. Unable to move away as Frankie wraps and arm around his bare shoulders and tugs him a little closer into his side, even as he puts his dick away and pulls up his jeans.

Santi and Frankie both watch, as Will’s hand winds around your hips and ass and disappears in between your thighs, and they don’t see his fingers spear you from this angle but they see it play across your face, the flutter of your eyes and the knitting together of your brows and the way you almost collapse into Will, arms bundling into his sturdy chest as you are finally allowed a morsel of pleasure for yourself. They hear Will’s halfway wicked chuckle as he works himself inside you, his arm pumping, roped with popping veins and tendons. “Fucking dripping,” he drawls, managing to sound impressed and scolding all at once as you languish against him, and Santi swears he can hear your slick being forced out of you.

Then, Will abruptly removes his hand from beneath your excuse for a skirt, earning a groan from you and revealing his two middle fingers to the other men. They are glistening up to the knuckle with your juices, which he smears unceremoniously along your chest as he wipes himself clean on you.

“Think you’re having too much fun, whore,” Will scolds, tugging your outfit down over your tits and grabbing one breast harshly in his broad grip, giving it a tug. “Don’t go forgetting your place, Princess. This isn’t for you, understand?Fuck. Santi should move, he thinks. Say something, do something. Anything. Totally should; but he can’t. He’s rooted to the spot, Frankie’s arms still wrapped around his shoulders. “Now go and get some beers and make yourself useful.”

Will’s tone is harsh yet playful - just as playful as the look in your eyes as you nod deferentially in response to his command, and the small exchanges are not lost on Santi. He sees when Will crooks his finger and massages that spot just behind your earlobe. He sees his blue eyes search yours until you give him a soft nod of reassurance, Will dipping to whisper that he’ll be right out before his eyes follow you adoringly out of the room.

Then, standing there like a fucking Adonis, shirtless and powerful and with his jeans wide open at the crotch, the band of his boxers slung under his shaft and balls and not a hint of embarressment or self-consciousness as his erection looks fit to burst, Will turns the scope of his attention towards the remaining people in the room. Of course, that’s Santi and Frankie. “Well?” he asks, surely knowing the answer already. “Enjoying my girl?”

Santi lets out a choked sound which he hopes passes for “yes”, and to his side Frankie expels a throaty chuckle- a noise that Santi always thought was one of the most beautiful in the damn world but which sounds even more gorgeous post-BJ, apparently. “She’s a dream, man.”

She -you… you are a dream, alright.

Will’s eyes sparkle with pride and he slaps Frankie on the upper arm, before turning to Santi. “You okay, Pope? You look wrecked.”

“Yep. M’good.” He is good, and his whole body is still humming pleasantly.

Still, Will steps a little closer to smooth his palm across the stubble on the smaller man’s cheek, before -to Santi’s surprise- dipping to plant a smacker of a kiss to the centre of his forehead. “You beautiful fuckers,” he grins, smiling at the both of them, and then, an aside. “Take care of him, Frankie, while I check on my Princess?”

“Got it.”

Santi should feel offended at the insinuation he needs taking care of, perhaps, but as Frankie’s warm eyes fall on him that thought falls out of his head and he simply staggers backwards, seating himself on the couch with a huge, contented sigh, his legs all nervy and shaking.

Will turns back briefly when he reaches the door, with one final thought. “There’s some water and-“

“-Go. I know how to take care of him,”Frankie insists, almost defensively, and, with a nod, Will takes his cue to leave. Then, Frankie crouches before Santi and smooths a hand on top of his thigh, his voice hitting far different when directed towards him. Somehow fuller. Richer. “I know how to take care of you, huh, pendejo?

“Yeah, Frank,” Santi admits, and he doesn’t know why his chest tightens with emotion in that moment, but it does.

Meanwhile, Frankie reaches over to the cooler by the couch and grabs a chilled bottle of water. “Good. Now drink up. Judging by the size of your load you just lost half your bodily fluids. Christ.”

Santi’s chest shakes with a hearty chuckle. “Was fucking good man. I’m still shaking.”

“Yeah. Yeah, man… and we’re just getting started.” Frankie slaps his hand on to Santi’s thigh, but then it just… lingers there, his touch warm even through the denim.

Santi’s softening cock twitches inside his jeans. It’s not lost on him that Frankie is in the same position you were moments ago. Not lost on him at all.

The two men lock eyes then, and Frankie abruptly clears his throat, surging up from the floor and reaching up to tame his mussed hair. “Stop staring and drink up, pendejo,” Frankie warns, and Santi softens the intensity of his stare.

Still, Frankie’s words echo in his mind, and he can’t help but stare just a little, especially as the man zips his jeans up over his softening length, his trimmed pubes still peeking out above the waistband.

We’re only just getting started.

Half-time

“Hey, beautiful.” Will announces himself before slipping up behind you in the en suite, gently wrapping his arms around you as you gargle mouthwash - getting the residue of cum from out of your mouth before round 2.

After you spit, he settles his hand at the back of your neck, his thumb stroking back and forth. “You okay, baby? Not too rough? Too… anything?”

“No. If anything you’re going easy on me, Captain. Sent me away after two dicks,” you sing-song.

Will chuckles. “It’s not you I’m worried about. Honestly, I think Pope needed a minute. Talk about living up to his call sign - I think you actually made him see God.”

“Hmm. Well I have been told my blow jobs are a religious experience,” you guffaw, spinning in the loop of Will’s arms until you face him, getting to see his bright smile head-on. “Really though, is he doing okay?”

“Mmm, yeah,” Will reassures, a little frown appearing at his brow. “I just wonder… if things take the direction I think they might, are you good if we change the scene up a little?”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Let’s just say, it would involve a different kind of teamwork.”

“Okay,” you nod, and Will is surprised that you don’t ask for more details. “I trust you to keep us safe, baby.”

Will’s eyes glow with more than a little pride at that - a pride which quickly shifts into hunger. “God. Let me kiss that dirty mouth of yours, hmm?” You tip your chin eagerly towards him and he swipes his tongue into your mouth, his hands slipping down to knead the meat of your bare ass beneath this skimpy outfit. “Mmm. Can I feel how wet it got you again? Please?”

“This is merely the staging area, Captain Miller. If you want to sample me you’ll have to wait your turn downstairs.”

He swipes his tongue into your mouth again, the kiss hungrier. “Hmmph. Good thing I like waiting.”

You smile and wriggle playfully out of his grip. He makes it easy - he unhands you immediately - and you finish straightening yourself up in the mirror. “Now… do I still look pretty?”

“Even more delectable.”

“See you in there?”

“Mmm-hmm. Okay, baby.” He dips to steal another quick kiss, his tongue shoving over yours and earning a horny groan from him. “You still taste of cum, you slut.”

“Love you too,” you coo with a teasing, devious smile.

Will winks as he sweeps out. “Damn. I’m a lucky man.”

“You sure are,” you tease. “Now go join the other lucky fuckers downstairs and I’ll be right with you.”

As Will sweeps out and you watch his broad form disappear, with a final glance over his shoulder and a charming yet hungry smile, you feel somehow like you’re the lucky one.

Quarter Three

Santi isn’t ready for it. Well- that’s not quite true. He is ready and willing, but he isn’t prepared. Isn’t prepared for how good it feels. How good it looks.

He watches Frankie pull you into his lap and pop your tits from out of this silly little outfit. He watches the man gather your breasts in his broad palms and mouth at your nipples, while you make these pathetic, delicious little noises which send blood thumping straight to his cock.

He watches you be dragged off of Frankie by Will, big strong Will, as a punishment for your moans - for the way you had begun to grind your heat down on to Frankie’s denim-clad erection to get yourself off. And, it wasn’t lost on Santi that seeing Will hoist you off of the other man -seeing that latent strength in action, for the first time in a long while- was a thing of beauty. Something that made his whole body tingle.

Then, Santi watches you being a little brat about it, until Will begins to call you the kinda names which make you bite your lip and squeeze your thighs together. Names which make you wilt against him even as his hand is clasped around your chin and jaw, dragging you up until you are standing taller. Names he doesn’t mean because the man fucking adores you - that much is obvious.

You trust each other, and it’s a beautiful thing to witness. More than that; you make Will trust himself. If you didn’t, there’d be no way Will would wrap his hand around your throat like this. No way you’d let him. Not after what he’s done.

In awe then, Santi watches. Watches as Will moves and manipulates you so easily. He transports you to the table, bending you over it to reveal your exposed, tight little holes to everyone in the room. Making a show of you -if you can’t be a good toy I’ll get your holes out for everyone to see- Santi and Frankie both instinctively standing and crowding around you, hungry for a better view.

You moan as Will pulls up this flimsy little strip of fabric passing for a skirt, pushing it up past your hips and putting all of you on display for them, the globes of your ass and meat of your thighs, and that perfect glistening slit.

Will grabs your hands and holds them behind your back as you squirm your ass and hips on nothing. “Oh you like this? Little whore wants some cock, is that it? That why you’re acting up? You a thirsty little slut? A fucking attention whore?”

With a grunt, Will snakes his broad hand up your back to pin your torso down on to the surface of the table. With his other arm, his thick fingers skim idly -haphazardly, roughly- over your heat, and they come away glistening with you. Santi is rapt, as, with firm, indiscriminate pressure the man begins spreading your slick around, playing with it, spreading it over your clit and lips and one finger circling your little asshole, making the rim of it gleam, all inviting. He can’t look away as Will slaps your pussy, watching the way you writhe and moan for him so beautifully when he does it.

Santi is so aroused he almost feels light-headed.

“Fuck you’re wet. You’re enjoying this. Being on display, aren’t you? I’m just going to leave you here until we’ve all had a go, hmm? Until your holes are full of our cum.”

Santi is so hard it’s bordering on painful.

Then, without warning, Will spears two fingers inside your heat, all the way to the knuckle and you yelp, a high-pitched noise which bottoms out into a deep, chesty groan, a shiver of pleasure undulating right through your body as his girth drags through your walls and over your g-spot.

“Ready for some cock, alright,” Will confirms. “Shall I show them how to use you?”

“Yes. Yes please,” you beg, voice all throaty and undone.

Fuck this is better than anything Santi’s ever seen - in real life or in porn.

“So needy. Where do you want it?”

“In my pussy. Please.”

Then, just like that, Will’s perfect, pretty length is sunk into you, his hips pistoning back and forth, allowing no time for you to adjust to his size and taking you anyway.

His eyes roll to the sky as he is gripped by your tightness and Santi’s own cock pulses; aching, needing something.

Then, Santi is watching Will flip you on to your back, spreading your legs wide open and getting you to hold them there as he grips your ass in his palms and slams you down on to his length, his arms all bulges and his sculpted abs undulating as he works his hips.

The sounds are something else. The obscene wetness, the slap of balls against skin, the staccato grunts of Will and your cresting moans which give way to fast, abortive moans, your lips dropped open in a silent scream of pleasure.

Then, Will hinges at his hips to bring his chest down towards yours, one arm bracing against the table and the other gripping your jaw.

“You a filthy slut? You love having me balls deep in your cunt while my buddies watch?”

Will knows exactly what he’s doing. Knows that the fresh angle makes his stomach grind down on your clit. Knows how his power gets you off. Knows just what you like. Indeed, you moan a throaty affirmative, and Will clamps his free hand on your jaw until you open up for him, dipping to spit right in your mouth and over your cheek as he continues pumping in and out of you, pleasure ripping through you and maybe just a hint of pain too - only in a way you like, never more than you enjoy.

Fuck.

“Open your eyes and look at them while I fuck you. Look at them, all hard for you. Look who’s gonna be inside you next.”

The juxtaposition between the hardness and softness is something else. Will’s tight body slamming you so hard the whole table rocks, heavy balls slapping, muscles firm and pumped as he holds you in place; and yet the softness too. The lilting curve of his lips against your cheek when he folds to whisper in your ear. The unconscious kiss he plants just behind your earlobe. The way a large portion of his strength is still reined in, because he doesn’t want to hurt you; would really never hurt you in ways you didn’t like.

You start to whine and squirm all of a sudden like you’re close and Will laughs, drawing back to be perpendicular to your body, slapping your clit with a firm hand and making you yelp. “Oh no you don’t,” Wills scolds, and before you can find your release he denies you, pulling out at the last minute and groaning deep and low as he pulses creamy ropes over your stomach, cock twitching as he ekes out every drop to paint you with, watching his load pool and glisten on your belly. He grins down at you as his breaths steady, the man recovering remarkably quickly. Thriving from it. Somehow able to find words when Santi is rendered speechless and he’s only watching.

“Pope, you want a go of our little toy next? Fucked her open but she’ll fit you like a glove.”

Does he? Of course he fucking does; but he’s also fascinated by the planes of Will’s shirtless body. By the way he manipulates you so effortlessly - throws you around and puts you where he wants you - exactly how he wants you. He’s also fascinated by Frankie, his long, thick cock slightly incongruous with his lithe, soft frame. And, he’s fascinated by you. That look on your face as you hold your own legs open, unfulfilled and your pussy fluttering on air, your red-stained lips dropping open and your eyes fluttering shut.

Santi swallows, and he wants to make a move but he doesn’t. Instead, he thinks about how Frankie’s cock might look filling you up, all that size disappearing into you.

“Wanna watch Frank fuck her,” Santi says at the same time he thinks it, immediately nervous that’s he’s said the wrong thing as soon as the words are past his lips - but then Will is saying okay then and holding his damn hand out to Santi and Santi takes it and he feels safe with Will. Big strong Will, who Santi’s never called that in his head ever before today but hell, apparently now he is, and pretty Francisco, his hair curling up about his ears from writhing his head about the couch cushions and his eyes and his stomach all soft but his voice so fucking gruff and hard. And then there’s you. You all over again, and Santi might be a lapsed Catholic but, fuck, you could make him believe in heaven.

Everywhere Santi looks there is something gorgeous; someone gorgeous, and then Will is slapping the subtle curve of Frankie’s ass with a hearty, locker room chuckle as the man lines himself up with your entrance, that thick head notching against your hole. And you.

Oh god, you. Santi knows he’s meant to be mean, but wants to stroke your hair and shush you as Frankie fills you rough and balls deep, you beautiful thing.

“You okay, baby?” Will asks you, breaking the scene for a moment. “You ready for him?”

“Yes, m’good. Please Cat’. Fucking need you.”

Frankie makes a strangled sound in his throat at how desperate you are for him, and Santi finds himself pumping his length in the circle of his hand. He has to. He needs some friction.

“Tease her a little and she’ll beg you, ‘Cat,” Will offers. “It’s fucking beautiful.” Then, the hunk of a man turns his attention towards Santiago, and a heat prickles across the back of his neck, his body standing taller and stiffer - muscle memory firing as though he’s about to get an order. Standing to attention for Will, in so many ways. “You okay, Santiago? Still with us? You need to stop or take 5?” Fuck, there’s something about Will first naming him in that voice which gets his dick gets even harder than he would have thought possible.

Then Will is closer. Slipping his hand around the back of Santi’s neck to better search his eyes, but his touch trails and lingers on him a little longer, calloused pads of fingers smoothing up and into his hairline.

“Yes. Yes, I’m good,” Santi confirms, his voice sunken by need, wet and liquid and no sand left in his throat.

For a split second, Santi imagines his tongue buried in Will’s mouth - imagines the rough friction and rasp of stubble against beard like he could light a match, but then he is suckered in entirely by the sweet sight of you.

You and Frankie.

“Please. Please Frankie, fill me up,” you plead pathetically and he pushes -no, glides- inside your wetness, his hands gripping your hips and a faltered moan falling from his plush lips as he bottoms out.

“Fucking beautiful,” Will praises, looking like the cat that got the cream as he witnesses some other dude spearing his girl wide open. And fuck, it looks like Frankie is stretching you to your limit.

Santi’s cock is aching in his own hand as he watches it - watches Frankie’s dick surging in and out of you, gleaming with your creamy juices. Watches the way his size spreads your lips apart, making them all flushed and glistening as they cushion him. Your little asshole just visible when Frankie pulls out - all tight and puckered and begging for a cock too, he’d guess.

Frankie bottoms out again with a cascading groan - jeez this man is a vocal lover - and then he’s moving, pumping into you, bending his knees and getting the perfect angle to fuck up into you - the perfect angle for him, not for you, even if you do seem to be enjoying it.

“Look at Frankie go,” Will bids him, and Santi’s cheeks flush at the man’s knowledge he is looking; watching.

“She feel good, Frank?” Santi asks with a swipe of his tongue along his lower lip, and Frankie replies in the affirmative, his words barely intelligible; and then, Santi asks you a question. A question which makes his heart throb in his neck when he realises how desperately he wants the answer. “Does Frank’s cock feel good inside you, baby?”

Does it? Does it feel good? It looks like it would feel good.

You spill profuse praises, causing Frankie’s legs to tremble as he fucks you, and then Will is moving, coming up next to your face to shut you up and pressing his dick towards your mouth. “Come here baby. Lick up the mess you made of me.” With an obliging hum you wrap your lips and tongue around the head of him, sucking diligently on him even as Frankie’s cock is pounding you, sending shockwaves rippling through your flesh.

Santi watches as Will reaches to roughly knead your breasts and pinch your nipples, and he sees a shudder course all the way down your body like a wave, your hips adjusting to a new angle around Frankie and making him tip his chin to the sky and breathe quick and ragged to stave off his end.

“Fuck, she likes that. Do that again, William. Feels fucking perfect on my cock.”

You laugh. You laugh musically with Frankie deep in you and Will thumbing your nipples and it’s actually fucking beautiful. This messy, beautiful thing, and your laugh brings Santi back to his body.

To his needy body.

Santi palms himself, focussing on the head of him, just enough pressure to stay rock hard - not that he reckons he’d have any trouble while watching this.

Fuck, Santi thought he’d be more… dominant but he… he just…

He swallows.

He wants Will to tell him what to do. He wants Will to tell him what to do to you. What to do to Frankie… because he wants to do everything and he’s too spoilt for choice to choose and…

Fuck.

He wants…

“Santiago,” you croon, desperately, voice hoarse with need and stretching out the vowel sounds and extending your hand towards him. Your attention on him for a moment, even if you’re getting dicked down by two delicious specimens, Frankie filling you and Will gradually engorging all over again in your mouth until he’s stretching your cheek. And Santi almost turns around and looks behind him when you moan his name because it can’t be him you need, can it? Don’t you have everything you need? “Santi, please,” you beg, and the effects of your wanton plea ripple through each of the men. Frankie fucks you harder, ensuring your eyes meet his again, albeit briefly before they roll back into your head. Will’s face lilts into a crescent smile at how deliciously filthy you are, and Santi…

“My woman needs you, man. Come get involved Santiago,” Will offers with an easy, agenda-free smile. “Sure she can take three. Put it wherever you want. Or, hey. If you’re not gonna get your dick wet just yet, come and torment that little clit of hers and make her clamp down harder on our pal Frankie.”

God - Santi should have gone to Will. He should have gone to Will all those nights he was trying to wank himself off in his army bunk. Should have had the Captain slot in beside him and whisper orders in his ear because it’s the only damn way he can mobilise. Because he needs Will’s cool, calm authority. Always needed it to feel safe.

Needed that but…

…He needs you too. Has needed you. And, Santi tics his gaze over to you, arcing up a thick, suggestive eyebrow - and ever so briefly it’s like you’re sharing a moment just the two of you, even as Frankie’s thrusts shunt you back and forth on the table. Even then, your eyes trail up and down Santi’s body and your tongue darts out along your lips like a silent invitation. And so, Santi comes to stand alongside the table edge, looming over you all splayed out like this. He gets in a position perpendicular to you, where he can just about touch his cock to your lips and reach his hand down towards your mound at the same time too.

Slowly, so slowly and in such juxtaposition to everything that is happening to you, Frankie’s thrusts growing harder and faster and increasingly sloppy, Santi smooths his palm down over your chest, your stomach, and on towards your little hatch of hair, quickly finding that swollen nub and skimming over it with the barest of pressure.

You jolt from it, a shockwave careening through your body and causing your spine to arc away from the table like a bow.

Frankie makes a choked sound then and so do you, but you’re moaning around Will’s engorged dick -your hands on both him and Santi and dipping them alternately into your mouth, sometimes both at once, their cocks frotting up against one another’s - and so that figures. “Holy shit, she likes that, you beautiful motherfucker,” Frankie rasps, voice almost entirely sunken. A delicious bead of sweat shimmying down from his temple which Santi half imagines he’d like to taste. “Just clamped down on me like a fucking vice.”

With a smug smile at making you feel good- making Frankie feel good- Santi builds the pressure. Starts with circles. Then, starts flicking and squeezing and strumming your needy, swollen clit, your moans suffocated around his own dick, but your jerking body and jagged breaths around his shaft a dead giveaway that you like this.

“Give me some more lube down there, Frank,” Santi requests, and his buddy -though increasingly undone- obliges him, puckering his lips and letting a shined glob of spit land on your clit with a soft smack. Well- Frankie always did have good aim.

And then, as Santi works you, you are practically bucking off of the table; however, there are 6 strong hands holding you in position. In position so that you can be filled and pleasured how they like. Your own hands and mouth busy with two dicks and you could stop, if you wanted. Anytime you needed to. You could tap out if you wanted, but you don’t. You like this, and so instead you use your hands to reach for them, to reach for more, to reach for him.

You moan around Will’s cock as he pushes deeper into your throat - deeper and in counter rhythm to Frankie’s thrusts. “So humiliating how much you like being used, Princess,” he coos at you.

Santi is riveted as Will surges out of your mouth, and then your moans are suddenly unfettered; abortive whines and pants and burgeoning waves of sound from deep in your chest. To the other side of him, Frankie’s percussive grunts and groans are the perfect complement to your carnal noises, perfectly in time with the slap of his balls against you, and Will’s still whispering dirty things, dirty words cascading down to you and Santi’s tormenting your clit and all of this- all of this is only taking you higher.

Santi could come again. Could come already, but he’s slipping his fingers further down, further down your lips and folds and he’s hitting the shaft of Frankie’s cock too and it feels warm and ridged and contoured, the feel suggesting veins and weight and he’ll be damned if he comes before he witnesses the two of you reaching your end. And maybe - maybe it’s coincidence but as soon as Santi is touching him too, Frankie seems to be losing it, his rhythm uneven and his grunts increasingly broken and his hands clamping harder on your thighs, leaving indents like claws and half-moon crescents where his short nails dig into your flesh.

Santi is overcome by it. By the need to feel you, to feel you both, so he crooks his forefinger and he reaches down and he finds room against Frankie’s shaft to slip a finger inside you with him, stretching you just a little more, and he finds that you can take it. That you like it. And maybe… maybe it shouldn’t fit- Frankie already an impossible stretch- but everything is drenched. So slippery. Obscene wet noises like ruined fruit. Both of them inside you as he brings his other hand across to massage your clit, his palm pushing down on your lower abdomen, and he can feel it. He can feel it when you clamp down, he can feel when Frankie comes undone and his orgasm zips all the way up from his balls.

Santi’s touching both of you as you are bucking off the table with no chance of going anywhere. As Frankie is spilling his load into you, slamming deeper into you, as deep as he can get, all of his length disappeared inside you all the way down to the groomed tight curls where Frankie’s happy trail meets the base of his dick.

Santi’s not even inside you. Not inside your mouth or pussy but he swears he feels just as good from watching Frankie fill you. By the fact he helped you both come undone.

He and Will both simply watch, both intent on you and Frankie, and a disbelieving, awed sound slips involuntarily past Santi’s lips as Frankie delivers his load, thick and creamy ropes pulsing out of him and filling you. Santi’s fractured moan deepens as he watches Frankie slip out and his cum and your arousal slipping with him, a mess of gleaming, white liquid pulsing from your fucked open hole, and your legs left quivering and jerking as aftershocks tear through you.

It looks fucking delicious.

You look delicious.

Frankie looks delicious, his shaft shined with your juices as he withdraws. He looks delicious as he dips forward, hinging at the hips to shove his tongue hungrily over yours in gratitude, whispering sweet things to you. Shoving over the same tongue that was on Santi’s cock only moments ago - almost as though he’s tasting him.

No, Santi wasn’t prepared for this. For how good it would feel and look.

Santi’s part of this and even then he’s jealous. Doesn’t know who he’d rather be. Him, with the privilege of watching you get fucked and filled up. Frankie, burying his length into your tight hole. Or… you. You, being filled up and used like that and…

…There he is again, untethered from reality like the moments after an explosion, ringing in his ears and blurred sounds and-

“Santiago,” Will says suddenly by his ear, deceptively soft, and Santi turns, grateful for his guiding force. Will slips his hand around the back of Santi’s neck again, gripping him securely. A grounding touch too, and with effort, Santi lifts his dark, lust-blown eyes up to Will’s baby blues, suddenly acutely aware all over again of the aching, straining mass between his legs. Of Will’s size and mass too. His height and muscles and power - not only his strength no, but the quiet, cool authority that has always felt like safety to him. “Santiago,” Will soothes, with the subtle brush of a thumb up and down the column of his neck. “Is there something you need, hmm? Something you… want?”

Santi’s throat bobs around a hard swallow and he averts his gaze from Will, shuffling from foot to foot.

Yes. There is something that he needs. Something, but he can’t…

The words…

He looks to Frankie, brown eyes meeting and Santi’s mouth drops open and closes wordlessly, Frankie’s tongue darting out to whet his pillowy lips and his eyes filled with something Santi can’t name and can’t place.

He looks at you.

He wants so many things but he…

He can’t name them.

So, he looks to Will. He looks to Will because everyone looks to Will when they’re in need, when they’re needy, and Will’s eyes narrow as he contemplates something. A smile twitches at his lips as he lands on a plan of action - always the one with a plan of action.

And so, experimentally, Will smooths his hand over Santi’s hair, making him hum, making him push his curls ever so subtly back into Will’s grip. You do this too - Will knows fine well what it means. “Want me to pull on your hair, Santiago?”

“Uhh. Uh-huh,” Santi admits, voice hollowed-out by need. Heat blooming in his cheeks and flushing his neck and chest. That prickle over his skin again because Will knows. Will knows what he wants. What he needs.

Then, Will obliges. Tugs the ex-soldier’s head back and his chin up and Santi emits a weak, needy sound that could only be described as a whimper.

“Want me to tell you what to do, Santiago?”

Fuck.

Santi’s heart is hammering in his chest and he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know why but he knows it feels right. He knows he trusts Will. With his life, and with this too.

“Please,” he croaks, and again, Santi immediately worries that he’s said the wrong thing, but only for a moment. Only for a moment because then Will is nodding okay. Will’s nodding okay and then he’s standing up taller, drawing up from Santi. Raising his chin. Asserting his authority. “Always were such a good soldier, Garcia. Should have known you’d like taking orders,” Will drawls, with a satisfied lilt to his deep voice.

“Fucking dickhead,” Santi fires back immediately, and Will tugs harder on his curls.

So help him, he likes that.

“Get on your knees, Santiago, you insubordinate little shit,” Will delivers in a commanding tone, causing a shiver to skitter all along Santi’s spine.

It’s experimental, Santi realises. He doesn’t have to do it, and even now he recognises there is plenty of slack in Will’s tone -in his expression- for challenge. For disobedience. “Get on your knees and lick up Frankie’s cum from the toy.”

Oh yeah. There’s definitely plenty of room for challenge; but Santi doesn’t take an inch of it. Instead, his legs shaking, he positions himself and drops to the floor before you. He settles there like this is second nature. As though he’s ever done this before, naked and hard and kneeling, and his palms settle on his thighs. He settles there, distinctly aware of Frankie and Will stood either side of him. Of you, lying there obediently with Frankie’s cum still pulsing out of you - after he’s used you, made a mess of you.

And Santi looks up - looks to Will, because of course he does. He looks to Will like you do. Waiting for permission. “Taste her then,” Will orders, casually pumping his semi in his hand, quickly swelling again. “Taste Frankie’s load.”

Santi rises up on his knees. He rises up like he’s free. Like everything suddenly makes sense. He cups your ass in his hands and then with a moan and shiver of anticipation from you, suddenly he is sinking his mouth to the mess of you, Santi’s writhing tongue shimmying and thumping and circling against your sensitive clit, sending jerky aftershocks through you.

Next, his tongue is trailing down to your fucked open entrance and he is lapping Frankie’s salt from you. Slurping obscenely and tasting the delicious tang of it flooding over his tongue, his cock so hard it almost hurts; aches. So hard as Will fists his fingers into his crown of curls and drives him more deeply into your heat. As you moan and shiver under his mouth. As Frankie practically gasps at how much Santi is enjoying tasting him.

“Holy shit,” Frankie keens, a cracked-open noise like a revving engine struggling to start - a telltale tremor in it.

“Good, Santiago,” Will praises experimentally, and in response Santi moans into your heat as the words makes his cock throb. “Clean her up. That’s our good boy.”

God, his dick. So hard. So desperate for any friction. Aching.

“Mm-hmm.”

And Santi’s thinking about everything. About what he might do next. About how he could fuck you. About how he could fuck into you and have Frankie’s release coating his dick. Your juices all over him making him slick. About how he could fuck Frankie out of you. How he could claim you for his own. How he could be claimed himself if only-

-His cock aches.

He needs to touch himself -needs some relief- and he reaches down, fingers finding his velvety shaft.

“Fuck,” Frankie revs, voice levelled with need. “You look so pretty on your knees, Santiago,” he praises, and Santi almost spills over his own knuckles right then and there before he’s even really touched himself.

But he doesn’t. He doesn’t because he’s waiting for something.

Waiting for…

Will commands him to get up. His legs feel like jelly but he just about manages it. He orders him to fold your legs back towards your chest. Tells him to fill you up like Frankie had. That the toy needs to be all used up.

Santi does as he’s told. He doesn’t need much convincing to slip into your inviting tightness anyway, does he? And, god, he’s only just slipped inside -just the tip- and it already feels so good. So good that he’s breathing in long gusts of exertion, trying to stave off his end and barely able to move because he’d nut before he’s even really fucked you. The way you grip him so tightly and the way it feels when the head of him nudges just right against your walls is something else. The warm grip of you on his shaft and the sight of Frankie’s cum being scooped out of you with every shallow thrust impossibly hot.

Santi’s whole body shudders, and then his eyes are rolling back in his head and suddenly Will’s directing. Will’s directing because it needs to be harder - not these pussy ass thrusts - and he needs to ruin you, and then Frankie is there. Frankie is warm, his chest at Santi’s back and his hands clamping around the man’s hips to fuck him harder into you - to guide the pace and depth.

Then Santi is moving. He’s moving because Frankie is fucking him into you and Will’s egging him on and you’re quaking around him, Frankie’s hardness an increasingly insistent pressure at the small of Santi’s back. Those big hands clamped on his hips and ass, that push and pull controlling his pace and thrusts, making each one longer and deeper than the last, and Santi can sense his balls drawing up, getting so tight, and his whole body getting ready to spill into you. It feels so fucking good.

“Looks like we have two toys, huh?” Will purrs. “You want that, Santiago? Wanna be a good toy for me and Frankie?”

He does. Yes.

Fuck, he wants that.

“Y-Yes. Yes,” and his own voice is barely recognisable, buried under layers of need, his hips stuttering and jerking and his legs nervy and he thinks he could fall over. Thinks he would fall if Frankie wasn’t sturdy at his back and so he leans into him. Leans into him more and all of a sudden Frankie’s gruff noises are fanning over his neck, over the shell of his ear. All of a sudden Santi is turning his head to the side and then he’s merely an inch away from Frankie’s lips, only the ghost of a moment between them.

Fuck.

The ghost of a moment, and with it Frankie loses control of the pace, the interruption to the rhythm and the slightly changed angle and how fucking wet you are causing Santi’s dick to momentarily slip out from you.

For a moment, you and Santi are joined in a crescendo of desperate moans in protest at the sudden lack of sensation - no, no, no- more more more, don’t stop- and Santi thinks about reaching down to guide himself back inside the warm embrace of you but he’s holding your legs, taking the weight of your hips as he suspends your lower half off the table, so instead, before either of them think about it, Frankie’s hand is reaching down.

Fuuuuck.

Frankie’s hand is reaching down and winding around Santi’s sensitive shaft, and he would moan at the feel of his buddy’s girthy fingers on his dick but the sounds are dying in his throat. Dying in his throat and fuck he’s close. He’s close, and as soon as Frankie’s hand is sliding down his lubed shaft and the head of him is engulfed by your plumped lips and wet heat all over again? He’s losing it.

“Come for me,” Will says firmly, and he thinks this time, that he really is talking to him too. Talking to both of you.

This.

This is what Santi has been waiting for. For Will’s permission and Frankie’s touch and you. Always waiting for you and he’s there. Fully present in his body and caught between you and Frankie, his orgasm ripping through him as a single word from Frankie falls over the shell of his ear. A gruff wrecked voice, deceptively soft: “Cariño,” and this time Santi thinks Frankie really could be talking to him too.

With that -with all of this- Santi is spilling himself and you’re clamping down around him too, wringing him dry and convulsing on him, hard, and Will is holding your head and shushing and stroking and praising you.

Santi is emitting ragged sounds from deep in his chest as you drain him dry, Frankie’s hand still squeezing the base of him, and all of a sudden he is releasing everything. His load, this weight from his chest, these sounds - almost like sobs but of pleasure. Sounds muffled only by Frankie’s tongue shoving over his, finally, pushing past the seam of his lips as Santi turns his head once more and the two men lock lips, the kiss hungry and tentative and unexpected and yet somehow entirely inevitable all at once.

The kiss eventually crests and breaks, just like Santi’s orgasm. The come down happens, yours and his, and for a moment the room is held in a cocoon of jagged breaths and breath taken away; pleasant hums and hands smoothing and lips meeting, soft wet sounds and hushed tones, and the soft slip of Santi surging out of you and his come and Frankie’s slipping with him.

Then, there are hands on him too. Careful hands. Reassuring hands. Familiar ones.

Will’s hand winding around the back of his neck again, into his buzzed hair, except this time his other hand is slipped around his waist too, gently pawing there. “You good, Santiago?”

“Yes. Good. Fucking. Soul left dick. Need a minute.” Will nods and slaps his cheek playfully and then they’re all back to you. Back to you and Will is massaging your thighs and you’re giggling disbelievingly and it’s beautiful.

You’re beautiful.

You made him feel so good.

And… Santi is fine.

He is.

He’s fine.

But even so he rasps a hand over his stubble and can’t help but notice there is an elephant in the room.

The elephant in the room is that he can no longer look Frankie in the eye.

He can’t; because then, he might give it away.

Might give away that he’s satisfied. That he couldn’t be more satisfied… yet at the same time?

There’s still something else he wants.

“Let’s take 5, yeah?” Frankie pipes up, sounding shy, sounding distant, and Will agrees, helping you off of the table and rubbing your legs until the blood comes back to them and you’re reaching for him and kissing him and he’s accepting, enjoying the gentle slip of your tongue against his, letting him know you still belong to him.

And, looking for his own embrace, Santi turns. He turns to search for Frankie, but he’s already quietly slipped out.

Already gone.

Gone, and it leaves a longing.

Yes, Santi knows there’s something else he wants, and he doesn’t know if he can find the words.

After all, it’s been this long -has been years- and he has never quite been able to say it.

Timeout / Huddle: amend the play

You all get cleaned up, get some snacks and water, and gather in the master bedroom for a much-needed change of scene.

The air is still heavy and thick with tension, hard swallows down throats and eyes glancing off of bodies and hands skimming skin, leaving searing, liquid trails of heat in their wake.

The pace is slower. More gentle, sensual. A different scene. A different feel.

But still, it’s clear this is not over. That there is more pent-up desire to be fulfilled.

You’re still nude under your silk robe, and shirts and pants have been hastily thrown on by the boys for this conversation, but no-one has made any move to end this.

Everyone still wants. Still needs. That much is apparent. Everyone is satisfied in some kind of way but still needing something more; and the group of you are never ones to leave a mission incomplete. You always get the job done.

Even so, it’s also clear that something has shifted. Maybe for all of you since the scene was planned - sketched out. Something is… different.

You’d talked at length about how the parameters might shift, of course. About what could happen in the moment, theoretically. About different feelings and desires and dynamics that might arise. Complex ones. Unexpected ones. Difficult ones. Pleasurable ones.

But this is far more than theoretical.

You think you all know it. Think you all have a pretty good idea; but it can’t come from you.

It has to come from him, and so this time, all eyes fall on Santi.

“Is there… something else you want to try, Santiago?” you probe, as gently as possible, all too aware -from personal experience- of this guy’s tendency to bolt when things get heavier than expected. More… emotional. More invested.

“Why are you all looking at me?” he asks, sweat gathering at his temples as though he’s literally burning under a spotlight, his heavy brows drawn down over his hooded umber eyes.

“We just want to make you feel good,” you purr. “But you have to tell us what you want first, honey.”

You look at him levelly. Letting him know: It’s okay. You’re safe. I promise.

Santi’s lack of protest is a subtle acquiescence in itself - you know him well enough to know that- but you’re going to need a hell of a lot more to go on than that if a single thing can happen. “So, what do you want?”

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “I-“ his eyes glance off of Frankie, and it’s a subtle tic but it’s a glaring admission all at once.

You don’t want to push him - to push this- but it feels so close. So close, and so you think you can give this one more try. You sigh gently and you slip a palm up to Santi’s face, the texture of his stubble rough and warm under you, and his eyes flutter closed as he leans gratefully into your touch, a weight settling on his brow all the same.

He doesn’t give in - he’s stubborn- and so you go with a hunch. “Do you want to be filled up too, Santi? Like I was?”

Santi’s eyes blink open - widening, a flush creeping all the way down his neck, his tan skin flushed with an undertone of crimson.

He looks to Will. Looks to Will like he’s said the wrong thing even though he hasn’t said a thing at all, but Will leaves plenty of room.

Leaves this wide open.

Makes him feel safe.

Still, when Santi remains silent, you look at Will helplessly. Maybe things are done for today. It’s okay if things end here. After all, there can’t be any pressure. “We don’t have to keep going - it might be best if we leave things here and-“

“-No,” Santi protests, his voice weak and yet his assertion forceful. A plea.

You note that Frankie whips his gaze back up from the spot on the duvet he’s been intent on for 10 minutes in that moment, seemingly holding his breath as he waits for Santi to reveal his desires. You swear you can see his heartbeat pulsing -raging- through his corded neck when you look closely enough.

“No?” you prompt, doing your best to stifle a smile. To play this off as casually as possible.

“I. Want That. What you said,” Santi admits, his voice shot through with rare nerves.

You imagine you hear Frankie gulp next to you, but Santi’s looking down at his hands - now clasped firmly in yours. “I. Fuck. I think I want to try that.”

You nod encouragingly. He’s safe with you. You promise. “Okay.”

Will says something next, perhaps going on a hunch too. “Want Frank to fill you up?” It’s experimental. The words slack. Leaving plenty of room. Plenty of room, and Santi doesn’t take an inch of it.

Santi and Frankie’s eyes lock for a moment and you bite your lip, holding your breath as you wait to see how this is going to go down, the air suddenly as close and as suffocating as molasses.

You keep your voice gentle. “That okay with you, Frankie?”

Frankie clears his throat shyly, but the huge tent he’s pitching in his pants right now -as well as the deepened colour of his cheeks- is a dead giveaway. “Yep.”

You could swear Santi releases a held breath when Frankie confirms.

Okay. Good. You’re halfway there. “Santiago?” you probe gently.

“Yeah. Yes. Please.”

You exchange a glance with Will and he gives you a gentle nod. “Do you two want me and Will to stay or-?”

Santi and Frankie both reach for you immediately and in tandem, as though to pin you down before you can disappear, and each of their heavy-lidded, needy expressions sends a thrum of heat and happiness crawling under your skin. Your lips quirk up into a smile, and Santi’s still reaching for you, looking between your eyes and lips and moving close enough that he is almost straddling your lap.

God, he’s pretty when he’s all needy like this.

You read his intentions. “Wanna kiss me, Santiago?”

“Yes please, hermosa.”

Wow. If he’s going to keep asking so nicely you won’t be complaining. You kinda like it, in fact. You’ve never seen him so polite.

“Kiss each other then,” Will suggests to the both of you. “Put on a show for us. Get me and Frankie hard so we can fuck you in your tight little assholes.”

Well…

Now there’s an inspired idea you can all agree on.

Always the man with a plan, your boyfriend.

No wonder he rose through the ranks really, is it?

Quarter Four

Santi surges towards you and you meet him, both of you raised up on your knees on the bed as your lips gravitate towards one another’s. And then, he’s devouring you. Kissing you deeply and hungrily, the movement of his jaw scraping his stubble over your cheek and -no doubt- leaving you raw.

He wants you. He wants you here. He wants you to be part of this. He wants all of this at once. He wants, and it feels like too much but it also feels like everything he ever wanted.

“Can I get you ready for Frankie?” you ask wantonly, your voice husk and syrup, and Santi takes more than a moment to catch your drift.

Oh. Oh.

Well, Frankie’s big. He probably shouldn’t deny a little assistance.

“Yeah,” Will purrs. “Come here, baby. Lick his asshole. Get him ready for Francisco.”

A moan shudders out of Santi even at the thought of you rimming him - of that pretty pink tongue lapping at him, and he could almost come apart if it wasn’t for Will. Will directing him to get on all fours on the bed. To position himself face down ass up. To spread his cheeks open for you.

Fuck.

Is this how you had felt earlier, Santi wonders, your holes all exposed and on display?

It feels… good.

You don’t waste any time in heeding Will’s command, and Santi swears he’s having an out of body experience as he feels the mattress dip to his rear with the weight of you, as he feels your breath against his entrance and your hands gripping the globes of his ass, all three of you making sounds of appreciation at the sight before you.

And then… Jeez.

The feel of your tongue is something else. First, you gently bend his hardened shaft back so that you can lick along the underside of him, your tongue then shivering up to his balls - which you suckle into your mouth for good measure, releasing them with a gentle pop. Then, from his balls your tongue dances over his perineum and finally, you circle around his puckered rim, around the sensitive flesh at his tight ring of muscle, and his moans are muffled right into the bed as he buries his head.

“Fuuuccck,” he praises, and you giggle smugly against him even as you continue your ministrations, your tongue swiping and probing and then gradually pushing inside, dipping into him and making his whole body tremble.

He moans again. Moans as your thumb circles the wetness of him and teases him there until he is eagerly pushing back on you, wanting you to ease in. You do - you push your thumb deeper inside, finding his prostate and pressing down, gently at first and then harder, stroking over it and almost making him shoot his load right then and there. Especially as he hears Frankie moan from somewhere behind him.

“Have you had something inside of you before?” Will asks.

“Yes.”

“You can take him?”

“Nothing as big as Frank. But I think so.”

“We’ll take it slow, cariño,” Frankie reassures, and Santi doesn’t think the man has ever sounded hotter - in control and assured and somehow deeply soft too, a well of caring and emotion brimming under his straightforward tone.

Frankie has got you. Whether you’re bleeding out on a jungle floor or about to be fucked in the ass by the man - he won’t let you down.

And fuck. What you’re doing feels good. Impossibly good, and from behind him Santi hears you mewl, your breath fanning against his ass as though you are being taken care of too. He’s not sure who might be warming you up or how but he can’t say he minds either image.

“I know you can take it, baby. You can take me all day long. That ass is mine, huh?” Will says with a swift smack to your ass, causing you to jerk and your thumb to slip slightly deeper inside Santi.

Oh, fuck.

He has to fight not to nut right now, but he wants to save his load. He wants to save it so he can make Frankie feel good. Judging from the sounds to his rear, Frankie is already enjoying this, and so -of course he does- Santi plays it up a little, feeling slightly smug, enjoying the attention, writhing his ass and increasing the volume of his wracked moans.

Santi is so very conscious he’s being watched. The two men behind him watching you open him up, Frankie emitting a beautiful groan as you replace your thumb with two fingers and Santi accommodates you with ease, and then he doesn’t even need to play it up. In fact, he’s having to reign it back in and he’s squirming and backing-up so you fill him deeper and swallowing down his moans and-

“There you go. There you go, Santiago,” Will praises, and Santi doesn’t think he’s ever felt such a sense of pride in his life as when Will praises him. “Francisco, have him suck on you and get you all wet.”

Frankie does just that, needing little to no encouragement to shift to the head of the bed and kneel before the other man, bringing his dick to Santi’s lips as you continue to deliciously pulse your fingers in and out of his tightness. “You want to? Want to open up for me?”

Santi responds by sinking his mouth eagerly on to Frankie’s length. It’s a new sensation- he hasn’t sucked a dick before- but he immediately loves how full he feels. Loves the weight of Frankie over his tongue and the taste of skin and salt. Loves the textures of him.

Pretty Francisco.

Pretty Francisco and his big pretty delicious cock.

Frankie seems to enjoy it too -Santi’s mouth on him- as before long he’s pulling out, insisting he’ll bust a nut if he stays in there too long, shuddering with need.

Will talks over at him. “I get a feeling our sweet Santiago likes to be told he’s a good boy. Think you can you be nice to him, Francisco?”

“Yeah. I can be nice to him,” Frankie chuckles. “That okay with you, pendejo?”

“Yeah, starting when, asshole?” Santi jokes, even as his voice tremors with need, and then he is being moved by strong pairs of hands - moved into position on his back as Frankie scolds him - “careful, or I might stop being so nice,” - and then all of a sudden, both unexpected and inevitable, it is happening.

Frankie’s hard shaft is inching inside of his eased open hole, stretching him out and filling him up until somehow, the dull burn is giving way to searing pleasure, and Frankie is buried all the way.

Next to Santi, Will has you on all fours as he fucks into your ass, slamming you hard and fast and burying that perfect dick in you just like you need him to, your hand winding in between your thighs and punishing your clit in time with his thrusts.

Will goes to town on you, because he knows you can take it, knows what you like, what you need, and meanwhile, Frankie - his sweet Frankie- is far more gentle. More gentle until Santi adjusts to his girth. Allowing him to set the pace and dictate the angle, his knees held up towards his chest as he holds himself open.

“Feel good?” Frankie enquires, a subtle concern etched into his handsome features, even as he hums with the feeling of Santi gripping his dick so tightly in his ass, his pink tongue darting out to skim over his lips.

Feel good? Good? That’s a fucking understatement, even before Frankie is really even moving. And, in response to what seems like an absurd question in the moment, it is all Santi can do to let out a choked, disbelieving laugh.

“Use your words,” Frankie scolds, his voice deep and delicious, and that command causes Santi to raise his arms and grab the pillows above his head for dear life, as though they might give him any purchase against the man’s deepening thrusts.

“Yeah. Feels good, Frank. Feels amazing.”

“Yeah?” Frankie says, the pace and force of his thrusts increasing as soon as he’s sure Santi’s enjoying this. The concern dropping from his features. His palms pressing down on the man’s thighs to keep them crushed up towards his chest, and Frankie sinking a little weight into his arms so he can deepen the angle of penetration too.

It’s good. It’s more than good; it’s divine.

And yet, Santi has seen Frankie fuck. With his own two eyes. Has seen Frankie fuck you. Hard. And he knows he’s still holding back.

Santi nods towards you, where you are getting railed into oblivion, tits bouncing and being gradually shunted up the bed by the sheer force of it, Will continually having to drag you back down on to his cock. “Francisco,” Santi pleads, almost bashfully. “I… I… want it like that. Please.”

“Like that how? All fours?”

“No. Just… harder. Fuck me harder, Frank.”

Frankie picks up the pace a little, testing the waters, sending a white hot, blooming pleasure shooting through Santi’s core. Still, he’s the one in charge here and he’s not about to let Santi forget it that easily. “You’re actually telling me how to fuck you? Curses under his breath. “I know you didn’t just try to top from the bottom, you little brat.” There is a warning in Frankie’s voice, but there is that undercurrent of humour too - an ease developed through years of back and forth between the two men - his endlessly familiar tone cut with a harsh, playful edge that Santi enjoys.

“Sounds like a fucking challenge,” Santi sasses back, and that was both his biggest mistake and his greatest idea, because with that, Frankie slams into him with far greater force, fucking him until he’s almost seeing stars.

“Uh- uh - fuuuucckkk.”

“You’re lucky you look pretty getting fucked by me, Santiago,” Frankie chides, but there’s so much warmth there too.

So much warmth and Frankie’s hard and soft and oh so familiar and entirely new and despite himself, even as he’s being drilled Santi can’t help but laugh. Can’t help but laugh because it’s unexpected, because it’s wonderful; but then Frankie is fucking him harder, and Santi’s laugh digresses to a moan and he’s keening for him, his hands raised above and behind him, searching for something to hold on to, and he figures he must look some kind of way getting fucked like this - being opened up so deliciously by Frankie - because you’re looking at him. Looking at him like you are rapt, captivated, even though Will -big strong Will- is buried deep in your ass. You’re looking at him, your eyes trailing from his flexed arms down his chest and flared ribs and soft stomach where his gleaming cock rests, nestled like a treasure between his thighs, knees curled back almost to his chest and Frankie’s soft stomach slapping up against his balls and sending jolts of pleasure slamming through him as he drives harder, faster, deeper.

Santi feels… boneless. He feels… liquid.

He feels something wet and liquid on his stomach and he realises his cock is weeping creamy fluid, Frankie fucking milking him, making him slick and God. God it feels good and it’s too much and it’s everything, but then Santi is reaching out for something -something else- and it’s you. Your hands clasping together in the space between you and holding on for dear life as you each get filled all the way up.

You lock eyes with Santi and hum approvingly at the sight of him, until Will is scolding you -I know he’s pretty baby but you focus on me when I’m fucking you, understand?. Scolding you but there’s no menace in it - you’re both smiling, that is, until Will is baring his teeth in a snarl at how good you’re making him feel.

And then, Will succeeds in reclaiming your attention by ramming you harder, and your eyes are rolling back in your head and Will is thumbing your clit and now you look like you’re almost seeing stars too.

All over again, everywhere Santi looks there is something beautiful; someone beautiful, all of them creating something beautiful, together, and Santi is smiling and he never knew that sex could feel like this. Never knew it could feel so fucking hot -hot like fire- and yet so joyful too.

So joyful and Frankie is fucking gorgeous like this, his hawkish face intense and handsome as he bears down on Santi, concentrating on not coming undone, breaths gusting from the circle of his plush lips and his thick length hitting Santi just right, and Santi idly thinks it’s apt that the pilot should have an aerial view.

Then, Santi vaguely hears Will ask you a question to the side of him. Something about whose dick you want to come on, but then he’s growling and gathering you up in his arms and raising your torso off the bed, his chest at your back as he snaps his hips forward and up as he buries his seed deep in your ass, and it gives Santi ideas.

“Harder,” he pleads at Frank with a flutter of his pretty eyelashes, and this time, oh thank God, this time, Frankie gets the memo.

This time, Santi’s got his knees up to his chest and Frankie’s hands are gripping his ample hips and Santi looks down. Looks down at Frankie disappeared into him. Looks up at the man’s smooth chest and broad shoulders. Looks down at himself, and he doesn’t usually like his stomach since he retired from the service but it looks good like this; good for Frankie, soft for Frankie, and he’s being railed and shunted further up and up the bed and he feels good. He feels so good with this white hot pleasure sparking in his core with every thrust, with the slight friction of his own length against his stomach as he’s filled. He feels so good that he is the one making Frankie emit such pretty, sexy as hell noises; making him feel good too.

Frankie’s filling him and it’s everything, and it’s enough, and it’s more, but suddenly Santi understands how you had felt earlier when you had called out for him, even as you had everything you needed.

He understands and he calls out for you now too. Calls out for you as Frankie fills him and he climbs ever closer to his peak. Closer and he’s filling him up and you’re watching him and Santi reaches out and it’s as though you know exactly what he needs. As if you know what he needs and you smooth your hand over his curls, over the stubble at his cheek. “Okay, baby boy. Okay. You’re okay,” you soothe, and his eyes roll back in his head with this divine contrast of soft and hard, being pounded and soothed, praised and used, and then he’s looking at Will all over again. Looking at Will because of course he is. Looking at Will because he wants permission. “One more orgasm. Give us one more baby boy.”

And then, just like that, everything is shifting. Suddenly you’re all talking and agreeing and moving and he is agreeing and pleading. Pleading that you straddle him and put his dick inside you. That you ride him while Frankie fucks his ass, and then, all of a sudden it’s happening.

It’s happening, and Santi’s being rocked between the motion of the two of you, both filled and filling, and it’s like the tide, one pleasure reversing and replaced immediately by the other, in and out, and it’s so good that he can’t take it. So good that the pleasure feels like it’s about to burst out of him everywhere.

So good he’s shaking, tipping his head back and moaning more deeply than he’s ever heard himself moan, and he sounds pathetic, desperate, wonderful, and then Will’s drawing Santi’s head into his lap and stroking his hair - telling him how well he’s doing. How well he’s doing letting you ride his dick, your hips undulating skilfully on him and your walls dragging over his contours. For having Frankie moving inside of him, so thick and stretching him open and him taking it so well, so deep.

“Feel good, baby boy?” you ask him, fully prepared to stop if he can’t handle the stimulation, if it’s overwhelming, and Santi could swear it is too much. That it is too good, and yet his hands somehow clamp down on your hips to keep him buried inside you and he’s begging. Begging all three of you, don’t stop. Don’t stop. Please.

Santi’s here, caught in a web of pleasure, and his enjoyment seems to build you all up too. Seems to drive you all further toward that peak together, and for a minute, with you all around him and inside him and above him he feels like he’s at the centre of the goddamn universe.

He doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve this. Any of this. To deserve the sight of you as you surge up, arms reaching behind you and head twisting so Frankie can kiss you, full and deep. What he’s done to deserve your lips on his next as you fold forwards, hinging at the hips and shoving your tongue over his. What he’s done to deserve Will’s praises and the dirty affirmations which cascade over the both of you.

“Yeah - you belong to me, don’t you, even with this other dick in you?” Will rumbles in his deepest, darkest voice - and Santi screws his eyes shut and imagines for a moment he’s talking to him. Imagines he’s talking to him, and then, quite plainly, he is. He really is. “You too, little one. I’m letting them fuck you. You’re mine too. You belong to me, you got that, Santiago? Mine to take care of.”

Santi can’t describe it. Can’t describe the elation he feels with Will’s words in his ear, and his fingers raking in his curls. Your tongue in his mouth and your pussy wrapped around his length. Frankie’s dick buried in him and his hands clamping down around his hips. All of you taking care of him.

He feels like he belongs.

He belongs to Will. He belongs to you. He belongs to Frankie. And he feels - he wishes, he hopes- that you’re each saying it to him now, in your own ways. Saying everything that he’s ever wanted.

He belongs. He belongs. He belongs.

To you, and you, and you.

“You okay, baby boy?” You purr right next to his ear.

Then, Frankie’s voice sounds from above him too. “We’ve got you. Come for us. That’s it. Come on. That’s it, baby.”

Santi screws his eyes shut again and focusses fully on the feelings and sensations. The sounds. The sights are almost too much.

He feels your laboured, quickened breaths fanning over him as your bury your head in the crook of his neck. “Fuck, I’m gonna… Frankie, you close too?” Frankie grunts yes, he is. “Come with Frankie, Santiago,” you plead, directly into the shell of his ear. “Come with me.”

Fuck. He’d go anywhere with you.

“Come on,” Frankie encourages, fucking him more roughly as his seed pulses deep into his ass.

And, between you all, you are hard and soft and Santi’s spilling and Frankie is too, all warm and thick deep inside him, and Will is awed, watching like he is witnessing some divine confluence. Santi feels it too. Feels the divine here. He feels the God that he always missed whenever he was dragged to Sunday service. He feels like this is something so perfect it shouldn’t be possible.

It’s like belonging.

It’s like being loved. If that’s not sacred, what in the hell is?

“Holy fucking shit,” Frankie growls as he comes, and his noises merge with your more incoherent, throaty moans -louder than he’s ever heard you come- and yet Santi is silent. Silent as though in prayer -at least, the way the Catholics do it- head thrown back in a noiseless cry, little cracked sounds and fissures all that escapes his throat as a full body orgasm tears through him.

He clamps down and squeezes Frankie dry. He almost bucks you off of him, throwing you forward until your arms have to steady yourself with your arms at either side of his head as pleasure blows through him like an explosion. Like a Big Bang.

Then after, it is calm.

Santi is levelled.

Santi has this ringing in his ears and this blurred vision and everything seems unreal. Seems unreal until touches and voices start to ground him again. Until the weight of bodies and palms settles him back down to Earth.

There is softness and shushing and stroking and he’s lying on the bed and he’s being taken care of. Being taken care of by his squad who have his six, whether he’s bleeding out on the jungle floor or coming down from the best orgasm of his life. Soft touches and soft words abound, and only now, in this moment, does Santi realise his cheeks are wet with tears - getting wetter- and even so, despite this emotion, despite how much he hates feeling vulnerable, you’re collapsed on top of him, boxing him in with your arms and legs, and he’s never felt more safe in his goddamn life.

You come down to Earth first. You always were the anchor or the group. Holding everything in place. You kiss him, and his lips are trembling as they meet yours and he can taste the salt of his own tears on your tongue.

Then, there’s Will. The leader. The Captain. The one who always knows what to do. Who knows right now. “Taking my girl for a second, Frank, will you look after this one?”

Then, that just leaves Frankie. His Frankie. The heart of the group. His joy. “You okay, Santiago, you kinky mother fucker?” And Santi can’t help but laugh. Can’t help but laugh that yes. Yes he is okay -more than okay- even as he has tears streaming helplessly down his cheeks.

“Kiss him better, Princess,” Will says softly, and Santi finally opens his eyes, seeing Will carrying you, your legs wrapped around his waist, arms slung around his neck, and he dips you down so that you can reach Santi, swiping your tongue tenderly along his lips until he grants you access.

“You too, Frank,” Will commands, and then Frankie obliges, lying -half-collapsing, in all honesty- on his side on the bed. Then, he is bringing Santi’s face towards his with a tender palm on his cheek, and slanting his mouth ever so softly against his, his moustache tickling against Santi’s upper lip.

And, finally, when you and Will leave the pair of them, momentarily, to get cleaned up, Frankie becomes big spoon, curling around Santi’s form and whispering something into the man’s ear. Whispering something that makes Santi look entirely blissed out.

“I’ll take care of you, pendejo.”

Overtime

“There’s gotta be a joke somewhere here?” Frankie insists. “What do you call you two subs sitting in a bathtub?”

“Oh, ha ha,” Santi says, tone thick with sarcasm, merely causing the other man’s eyes to crinkle in amusement.

“I’ve got it,” he comes back, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “What’s the difference between you two and the USS Seawolf?” Santi emphatically rolls his eyes, and Frankie takes that as a clear invitation to deliver his punchline. “Nothing. You’re both subs and filled with semen.”

Okay, it wasn’t that funny, but it has tickled Frankie, and neither of you can resist that man’s infectious, throaty chuckle - despite best efforts, in Santi’s case.

Well, Frankie isn’t entirely wrong, is he? You had certainly been more than filled up. Your core hums pleasantly with the memory of it.

Then, after the fact, Will had lifted you away. Had stolen a moment alone with his love, to properly check in with you. To kiss you slow and deep and hold you close. To praise and fuss over you.

He’d also figured that Santi might do well if he wasn’t being crowded - that leaving Frankie to take care of him would be the best call. That Frankie would want that too; he went on a hunch. And, since then, everyone had been cleaned up and checked-in with and -to Will’s insistence- had rehydrated. Any immediate physical needs had been addressed, and emotional ones too, as far as possible.

There were soft kisses and hugs and caresses, sweet words of praise, and some good-natured words of teasing too, the moment Santi was ready to assert himself again.

Then, all that was left to do was to bask in the afterglow. That, and Will had run the two of you a bubble bath while he and Frankie had disappeared to shower in the en suite.

Now, you and Santi are sat at either end of the claw-foot tub luxuriating, legs overlapping and folding around one another.

Frankie is seemingly sticking with the two of you for just a little bit longer as well, his forearms resting on the bath edge and his chin on top of that, his eyes closing and a satisfied hum escaping him as you fondly card you fingers through his messed-up mop of hair, putting his ‘do back into place even as you know it will look tidy for all of 5 minutes.

Feeling a rush of affection for the man, you dip forward to kiss him on the cheek, and then you run your index finger down from his brow, tracing the profile of his hawkish nose, the line of his moustache, over his lips and shapely chin, and you can’t help the smile that curls your lips as you appreciate him.

“He’s kinda pretty, right?” Santi says, tone imbued with fondness too, and just a gentle teasing edge.

Frankie hums again, and then his eyes slowly peel open, creasing at the corners as he looks at Santi. “And you get uglier everyday.”

The challenge in Santi’s eyes is kind of delicious, and if you weren’t so spent it might even get you horny again. Still, you have other things on your mind for right now. “Why don’t you go nap, Cat’?” the man is obviously tired, stifling yawn after yawn - and yet, refusing to relinquish his post. “Sure Will’ll tuck you in, sweetie.”

Frankie looks apprehensively between the two of you.

“We’ve got everything we need. Really.” You pump your eyebrows, hoping that somehow you convey: I’ll take care of Santiago.

And so, confirming that you’re sure one more time, Frankie finally concedes, leaving you and Santi alone in the bath.

Santi looks at you, coming back to his cheeky old self -clearly, as his eyebrow ticks up suggestively- but there’s no real intention behind it. You can tell he’s wiped-out too.

“Sometimes I think this is actually the best bit,” you share, as though this is some insider bit of intelligence Santi might covet. “You can drag the aftercare out for days with Will, he’s a soft touch.” You toss the man a wink.

Despite your light-hearted tone, Santi’s eyes mist over then. You’re not a mind reader, so you can’t quite place it, but if you had to guess you’d say there was a look of regret there. Santi gets that look in his eyes on occasion, when you talk about Will -when you’re happy about Will- and so you’re not overly concerned. It registers like an old ghost, and, as usual, it is covered over in a matter of moments. Buried all over again.

“Did you have fun?” Santi asks you instead.

Wow. Did you have fun? Well, you can’t help the grin which splits your face then. “Couldn’t you tell I was having a good time? I thought you were intelligence.”

“I had some clue,” Santi grins, a lazy, charming smile which disarms you a little, in spite of yourself. He’s good at those. Good at making you feel beautiful, his dark eyes glinting at you.

“What about you?”

Something indiscernible passes over his eyes again. “Yeah. Yeah I did,” and he rasps his hand over his stubble, leaving a trail of bath bubbles in the wake of his hand which fizzle on his skin. There’s something more there too, though. You can feel him wrestle with it. That’s usual. Standard Garcia, but you’re surprised that this time, some words actually find their way out. “You know,” Santi says, a sudden seriousness burdening his brow, and you can’t help but tense up a little. “I always regretted fucking up with you.”

You draw your knees up to your chest, hugging them close, feeling like you’re wandering into dangerous territory; quickly erecting a perimeter around your heart. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Santi breathes out. Seems to release something on the exhale. “But now… I’m glad I fucked up. Because what you and Will have… You’re incredible. I see how happy he makes you, and… you deserve that. I… I never could’ve…”

Your eyes mist up, mirroring his, and you have to bite back a swell of emotion which surges in your chest. For a moment you can’t speak. You can only reach for one of his wet hands and clasp it in yours, interrupting the flow of his words and dragging his deep brown eyes up to yours. “Santi. You could have. For whatever it’s worth now? You could have.”

Santi smiles thinly. Nods. And you’re not sure whether your revelation is a sad one or a happy one, but regardless, he draws you to him with a hand around the back of your neck, dipping to plant a chaste, fond kiss on your lips, your foreheads resting together, just for a moment. It’s not an apology exactly, but somehow it feels like one. It doesn’t even matter - you forgave him long ago anyway.

You smile back at him - a thin, watery thing which you quickly gloss over; and then you each release a breath. You each let it feel lighter. It is only then that you realise how much it had been weighing on you all this time.

Then, your eyes gradually sparking with gentle humour, you distract from this thing between you. You arrange a bubble beard along his jaw, your bright laughter and his resonant chuckle eventually echoing around the tiled room.

He looks at you then like you’re beautiful, his head tilted to one side and you reel a little, his natural charm entirely disarming. Always was that way. “God you can take a dick,” he grins. “And you look good doing it too.”

Despite yourself, you laugh - a dirty, smug sound. “Look who’s talking, Pope.”

And, okay, it’s not the smoothest segue, but you’ll take it. “So… you and Frankie… that was…” you tick up an eyebrow. “…unexpected? Right?”

Santi pouts his full lips, nodding slowly. Expression impassive. “Yeah.” He doesn’t say anymore, even though you feel like he wants to; still, you don’t push him. He’s bound to be emotional right now, and tired, and vulnerable. Santi has bolted for fewer reasons than that before and the last thing you want to do is push him away. Maybe it sounds silly, but you only want to protect him - which has always proven tricky when Santi’s biggest enemy is himself.

So, instead, you chew over a different question, as though you’re about to ask him for the Earth. “Will you come lie up against me, Santi?”

Santi hesitates for a moment. Doesn’t make a move to come closer.

In the space he leaves you almost want to beg him. Don’t run. Don’t run from this. Not me. Not Frankie. Not Will. Not this time.

To your surprise though, he shifts in the water, and he slots his back against your chest, allowing himself to be nestled safely in the loop of your arms. Allowing you to take care of him, for once.

You hold him close to you, and with the weight of him against your chest, somehow, it releases a different weight you’d never even known you were carrying. Not since Will. Not since you were happy.

By the time Will comes into the bathroom to check on you, Santi is dozing against your chest.

You wonder if Will is going to be pissed, somehow, but instead, his eyes glow with admiration as he watches you -the two of you-Santi nestled against your chest, and a smile claims his face at the sweet sight.

He gives you a wink, no agendas behind it, and you love him for it. “You okay, angel?” he whispers with a staggeringly beautiful smile. “Need me to relieve you of brat duty?” He dips a hand in the water. “Water’s almost cold.”

Your eyes crinkle and you swallow a laugh. “He asleep?” you mouth.

“Looks like. Frankie’s zonked out too. Shall we put this one to bed as well?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “You sleepy?

“Not really. Hungry though. Guess fucking your ass really worked up an appetite.” He grins. God. How does he do that? Make you feel so safe and so ignited all at once?

Your eyes light up and you bat your eyelashes at your love in hope. “Snuggles and pizza with my Captain?”

Will’s lips twitch with amusement and adoration in equal measure.

“If it helps you decide, I took three dicks today. Think I deserve it,” you purr.

“Ok, Angel,” Will laughs robustly. “Can do.”

Post-game analysis

After a decent nap, Santi and Frankie join the two of you in the lounge.

Everybody is feeling more rested, eating the leftover pizza, and idly watching some shit 80s action flick that Frankie knows every single line to. There is intermittent chatter too, as everyone reclines on some couch cushion or other.

You and Santi are bunched up in the middle, your head reclined in Will’s lap and his in Frankie’s, the two seated men at opposite ends of the couch. Banter is flying around, and you and Santi are quickly being dubbed the mischief makers and more than playing up to it too, perhaps unconsciously trying to tempt some fun consequences.

“Look. Can we address the true elephant in the room, Pope?” Will sniggers, mid-way through one of the random digressions from the movie. “I thought you were a dom, man.”

“Yeah,” Frankie titters gleefully. “Santi’s a dom until Will’s in the room.” His comment earns him a hearty laugh from you and Will, and pure daggers from the man in question.

“Shit. You wanna watch out or, next time, I’ll prove to you just how well I can dom,” Santi says indignantly. And then, all over again, he tenses up. Feels instantly as though he’s said the wrong thing. That he’s been far too presumptuous. That he’s given far too much away about his wants. Why? Because a repeat performance was never agreed upon. Was never supposed to be on the cards. Still, with effort, his voice comes back, even if this time it is far smaller. “I mean… if there…” he gulps, his mouth suddenly as dry as cotton. “If there’s gonna be a next time.”

A tense silence falls over the room - an awkwardness for the first time today. And for one last time, all eyes converge on Will.

“Why are you all looking at me?” he wonders casually, chowing down on a slice of ham and pineapple without a care in the world.

“Because you’re in charge, Captain,” Frankie says without missing a beat - in all seriousness.

“Well - that’s not quite true,” Will chuckles.

“No?”

“No!” he replies, and his voice becomes suddenly wistful. “No, dumbass. We’re a team.”

Santi feels it.

Feels choked up.

Feels that expansive happiness swell in his chest again. That limitless relief.

He belongs. He belongs. He belongs.

And he feels his heart thudding in his chest.

“Sure, but baby - every team needs a Captain,” you say to his right, in a tone sure to massage whatever shred of ego Will has left.

Will huffs out air disbelievingly -increasingly amused as everyone continues to look towards him, as if to ask, “Well?”

And so, Will can seemingly no longer stifle the smile that crosses his features. “Okay. Well. We clocked… 11 orgasms this time.” That’s Will - Will counts everything. “Next time, squad?” Everyone’s breath is bated, hanging off his every word. “I think we can do a little better.”

At that, Santi lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, and Frankie’s arm settles over him, perhaps with relief too, giving him a gentle squeeze. In turn, Santi reaches out and wraps his arms around your leg, and with all of you around him like this, Santi finally feels like he belongs.

He only hopes this feeling can last.

THE END.

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[certifiedwhore4slashers]

Scream 1996 Headcanons(SFW)

includes sidney, billy, tatum, stu, randy and dewey. reader's gender is not specified so gender neutral:)

pretty short headcanons. Mainly because I’m lazy

Warning: Slight NSFW mentions(not extreme) and obsession.

Sidney

-Would 100% be protective of you, due to past experiences of losing loved ones under "mysterious" circumstances, aka ghostface.

-She would be very soft to her s/o, so very much a cuddly type of girl.

-Jealousy rate is 3/10, she definitely trusts you, so i feel like she wouldn't get jealous. But of course, can get a tiny bit jealous if some flirts with you.

-Sidney might be slow with trusting you after Billy fooled her, but she would end up trusting her s/o, knowing you were different.

-This girl loves affection, but not entirely PDA, maybe hand-holding at the most?

-Sidney is pretty insecure, but not for reasons people might assume, so she would kinda assume sometimes you don't truly love her, but you assure her every single time you do.

-Sidney has intimacy issues so it would take her a while to be intimate with you but you’re pretty patient:)

-She tries to be there for you as much as possible and tries to keep you safe if a ghostface is in town. It really depends though if her s/o listens or not.

-in private she’s a pretty affection person and would rather spend her free time with you than anyone else:)

-Sidney would be in-between little spoon and big spoon, she would like cuddling but again she would have to be in a serious relationship for any of that, not a one-night stand type of girl.

-If her s/o is taller than her, she would like it because height doesn’t matter same thing if her s/o was short, height isn’t the biggest thing in a relationship.

-you two would probably have been very close best friends before dating, She doesn’t really date random people that she’s known for not that long.

Stu

-what can I say besides the fact that this man is completely fluffy? or is he really?

-in some situations, Stu can be manipulative towards you when he wants to be. For someone who Is always cheery he has a dark side.

-of course Stu stalks his s/o, mainly as ghostface so he won't get noticed.

-he’s a very cuddly person and also a big spoon, but sometimes he can be the little spoon, I really depends.

-Stu’s a very clingy person which is canon-? Idk for sure but it seems to be. His parents are never really home so having no parental figure he’s clingy and attentive.

-if you’re small, he loves it, sometimes teases you about it, but not all the time.

-if his s/o is taller, he also loves it, a tall partner is a win-win.

-as for your intimate life, he’s kind of on board with that and loves fucking, dom/sub it doesn’t matter to him:)

-Stu still is ghostface though so he does kill for you. Sometimes tries to scare you because he thinks it’s hot when you don’t enjoy it.

-I would say jealousy scale is a 7/10, you wouldn’t know that though by the looks of it but he is. Once again a very attentive and clingy person if anyone touches what is his then it’s over for them.

- he does get jealous of Billy occasionally, but he trusts his partner in crime.

-unlike Sidney I don’t think it matters to him if he’s known you his entire life or only a week, He could fall for you instantly.

Billy

-He’s a bit more complicated than Sidney and Stu just in the way he is a psycho but I’ll try.

-not really a big fan of affection, at least publicly and it depends on his mood. He’s got mommy issues so he does love affection if he’s in the mood.

-Jealousy scale is 100000/10, this man will not think twice about killing for you, at least as ghostface. He can contain his jealousy at like school or in public.

-tbh you were going to be his victim until he fell for you. He normally wouldn’t fall for someone so fast but you were different.

-so he kinda got obsessed with you, possessive as well. You’re his and his only, nobody else’s.

-sometimes Stu will help Billy kill people close to you or people who’ve wronged you in his eyes, delusional? Maybe.

-this might be Yandere? Idk, this is canon considering Billy’s a psycho. his possessiveness does bother you sometimes.

-despite falling for you fast he would have to have known you for a while, just like Sidney. He’s a hopeless romantic like Stu.

-Possessiveness is like 1000000000/10, He is a killer, after all.

-very manipulative, convincing you to date him in the first place.

-Like Stu, he would stalk you and get to know you before you became his s/o.

-guarantee that your life changes forever<3

Tatum

-she’s a cool and chill person, so She would convince her s/o to do crazy shit, like getting high or going to parties.

-very confident and tries to boost your self-confident a lot, if her s/o is self-conscious:)

-I don’t think Tatum is a very jealous person so her jealousy scale would be 1/10? That’s the lowest so she trusts you a lot. -being her s/o, you would join the friend group and maybe get along with everyone? it depends. if you're shy then maybe not.

-If her s/o is confident, then you would get along with her friends. You both would go well together<3

-Tatum would be intimate with you as soon as possible, with consent and would be soft with you.

-You would join her on her wild shit:)

-Being Tatum's s/o, you would get invited to the cool parties and sometimes get drunk with your gf<3

-She would be there for you in your darkest times and just in general, always supporting you and defending you.

Randy

-Randy is a huge softie, so guarantee he would be fluffy with you and cuddle you whenever possible<3

-You would watch a ton of horror movies, even though he could be very into them and go a little crazy.

-He is more protective than jealous? I could see that but i would give his jealousy a 3/10, i guess?

-If his s/o was a horror geek too, he would be pretty happy someone shared the same interest as him.

-Like Sidney, He would have had been close friends for a while before falling for you, just because he would know you pretty well, so dating you would be pretty easy.

-He would be very understanding and also your #1 supporter besides your parents if you had a good relationship with them.

-You sometimes visit him working at the movie star, kind of mess with him but not too often, you don't want to get him fired.

-Both of you are total dorks, but that is what makes you compatible:)

Dewey

-Like Randy, is a TOTAL Softie, but a bit insecure because he thinks you could do a lot better. But you assure him several times that he is good enough for you.

-Dewey is a bit shy so if his s/o was outgoing and an extrovert, he would be a bit overwhelmed but would love you anyways.

-sometimes, he is the big spoon, but could be the little spoon occasionally.

-Jealousy scale would be 5/10, but not extreme and is mainly due to insecurity and regret.

-He tries to protect you as much as possible because he couldn't save his little sister <3

-Very supportive and caring towards his s/o, comforting you whenever you need him.

-If Ghostface returns and you two are dating, he would try and keep you out of it, for your safety.

-So in general, Dewey is a pretty good bf:)

[puppy-the-mask]

Okay so to continue from my last post’s notes and recap!

The story takes place in a world where the Tale, Swap, Fell, Swapfell, Horror, and Horrorfell universes are all part of the same world- their nicknames are now their actual names, Reader takes the roll of Amp- which makes them Shanx’s adopted kid, The world is a Soulmate AU with romantic-platonic-and familial bonds available, Reader is a Dreamer- more specifically a Dream mark type with a touch activator- which means they see their soulmates via dreams (they keep a dream journal!) though for their half of the bond to activate their soulmate has to make physical contact with them. *We’ll come back to this topic in a bit!*

The skeletons all have familial and platonic bonds with each other which led to them all living together, sans(hehe) the HT bros who live on their own but keep close contact and visit. This includes Shanx and Cron, though they haven’t met the others yet as they’re fairly new- having been top side for 3 years but lots of that time being spent in hospitals and such. 

Reader lives in a house with a couple of the snowdin monsters from the HF underground, which is referred to here as ‘Rainy Clan’ monsters. (monsters took the names of their respective mountains. UT is Ebott, idk the others yet but HF is Rainy mountain- why? because plot~) I’m thinking Dogaressa, Ice Wolf, the bunny and her kid, and later on Fuku (who is still being held back in ‘The Facility’ because she’s scared of leaving and going out despite being a social person) 

Shanx, Cron, Anty, and Bon(Mr. ’Only until my business gets up and running, then i’m out!’) also live there but they’re currently away on a political trip for quite awhile- which doesn’t make reader/amp feel left out and abandoned and thrown away at all what are you talking about? 6-6′’ in all seriousness that’ll probably be a plot point now that I’ve thought about it. But anyways The group is getting to know Papyrus while theyre away because he is Mascot and Co. Ambassador of the Ebott Clan (the first to surface) so he’s basically helping them get used to things and showing them how to do stuff idk how politics work gimme a break XD

Also away from home is Rus! He’s at college studying abroad! and speaking of Rus- he’s also a dreamer! And seeing as I am the overlord of this idea i’ve made the executive decision that if two dreamers get dreams about each other at the same time their dreams connect and they can talk to each other. Why? because why not! This also results in me implementing routines to the dreams so with enough practice and tracking you can predict when you’ll dream about a specific soulmate! Duel purpose Dream Journal! But yeah The dream meetings are why I had to take our precious boy away for the majority of the plot in my brain, he was too OP and i had to Nerf him 

A consequence of this is that Black is without his precious brother, and you know who else is having that very same problem? Sans. Which is a Dynamic i am SUPER HYPE to explore. Since Rus isn’t around Black has gone off the rails looking for something to distract him from the sad feels, but also he’s just causing trouble for the hell of it and dragging Sans along for the ride. This is where we come in! Reader accidentally trespassed on the guys yard picking mushrooms and other wild edibles to make lunch with, so Black and Edge chased them to catch them and interrogate them over what they were doing but they lost them and got away. So the two of them investigate and find that there is a LABYRINTH of trails in those woods and according to this nice four wheeling family this forest connects like 3 whole neighborhoods, with their house’s yard being one of the exits. Which makes things difficult- Edge gives up cause we havent come back so it’s whatever- probably just a kid messing around. BUT BLACK DOES NOT GIVE UP- IF ANYTHING HE STARTS TRYING HARDER! and impossibly Sans has to play the straight man to Black’s schemes, which considering the guy is entertained by most of this shenaniganry, he doesn’t actually stop any of it- at most he’ll offer a less lethal alternative should Black really start getting too far into things. But They’re probably both equally invested in how this is all gonna go