Real Talk- I HATEEEEE When People Tag Shit The Incorrect Tags Just For Reach. Why Am I Looking For Frank

Real talk- I HATEEEEE when people tag shit the incorrect tags just for reach. Why am I looking for Frank Castle, and I get bucky Barnes? It isn't making me wanna read your story, its making me want to block you.

If you actually have a good story, the regular tags should do just fine with it, it would reach the correct audience!😭

More Posts from Ewusernamessuck-offical and Others

Love men who get horny from mundane things. He needs to go through a man’s equivalent of ovulation when he sees you folding laundry. He has to feel like he needs to be sedated because you were humming while making coffee. He should feel like he’s in heat simply because you giggled at something in your phone. It would be borderline offensive if your simple existence did not send him into the world’s most frenzy of All Time actually

Screaming without the S

Private Dances 7

Private Dances 7

Club!Blue Jones x F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? • ko-fi • request info • series masterlist

Summary: Blue comes to find you when he's in a bad mood.

A/N: A huge thank you to the epic @lonelyisamyw-0love for tipping my ko-fi, this series is especially for them💚

Warnings: Smacking (in the face - Blue receiving), p in v sex, cream pie, oral sex (f!receiving) Blue crying, reader says Blue's crying turns them on, small argument - but like it's a scene, overuse of italics, there's some power dynamics in here because reader is a dancer (but like Blue is so lovesick), not beta read, swearing, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

There are 5 main ‘stars’ in the club: Peach, Trixie, Songbird, Sweetie Pie, and Crystal. Crystal is usually the favourite but is currently in Blue’s bad books for reasons unknown to the reader. Reader is a backup dancer that Blue has nicknamed Lion.

Word Count: 3100

Private Dances 7

Blue’s in a foul mood. Worse than foul. 

The tension in the air is heavy, spiked with electricity like the moment before a lightning strike. 

You’re helping Penny and Swan with the A Quarter stock check when you hear it: Blue’s yell. It’s harsh and sharp, cutting through the air like shattered glass despite how low the sound is. Anger radiates through the walls, his tone clear and precise even though the words and their meaning are muffled and lost. 

Penny and Swan jump at the first shout, poor Swan nearly dropping the items in her hands. Her fingers shake as he tries to compose herself. She’s fairly new and has never been under Blue’s direct warpath, but she’s heard enough stories to develop a healthy apprehension. 

Penny gives you a nervous glance, “That sounds bad.” 

You nod. 

“You…” Penny swallows, her eyes downcast. 

You know what she wants to ask. Can sense it. It’s almost like her words are echoing in your head, running along your synapses. It’s the same thing nearly everyone wants to ask, though no one has dared to yet. 

“Blue…” Penny tries again, breathing in as she searches for the right words. 

“You’re one of his favourites, right?” Swan blurts out. It’s funny almost, the bluntness of her words. But her eyes are wide and honest, and there’s a shine of fear in them that robs you of all humour. 

Penny tuts before you can answer, swatting Swan on her forearm. “You don’t just say that.” 

But why? You want to ask. Why is there this unspokenness to some things? No one had ever told you not to question, but it was ingrained anyway. 

“It’s alright.” You say and give them both a small smile. “It’s fine.” 

Swan rubs her arm and Penny looks relieved. 

“I know some of the… others,” Peach, Trixie, Songbird, Sweetie Pie, and Crystal, “aren’t too… they don’t like being asked.” 

But that wasn’t quite right; some of them didn’t mind either, some of them freely gave information when it wasn’t too much to talk about. Crystal was the only one where asking a question was like a flip of a coin. You never knew if you were going to get an answer, a vicious comment, or your eyes clawed out. 

Some twisted hierarchy. 

You shake your head. “It’s fine.” You repeat. 

“What’s he like?” Swan asks, a morbid curiosity in her voice. 

All you can think about is the scars on his skin, how soft his eyes look when you press against his windpipe, the quiet, wanton moans that pass his lips when you squeeze. 

You shrug, trying to find substantial words. “He’s…”

“A fucking monster.” Penny shakes her head at Swan. “Why are you asking Lion stuff like that? You know what he’s like.”

Swan frowns, “Hey, I didn’t mean-”

“It doesn’t matter.” Penny folds her arms. “It’s-”

The door flies open, smacking into the wall with a crack. 

Penny jumps while Swan lets out a little cry of surprise. 

You turn instinctively, your mind racing.

Blue storms into the room, a deep scowl etched into his face like a scar. His gaze first falls on Swan and she takes a sharp, shaky step backwards her eyes downcast. 

Without thinking, you take a step forward and Blue turns at the sound. His glare softens when he sees you, but barely. He doesn’t steak, just grabs your bicep and pulls you from the room. You stumble, his firm grip keeping you upright as he practically marches you to his office. 

The door is barely open before he drags you inside and spins you around to face him. 

You stay quiet, but fix him with a hard stare. 

He breathes heavily, his shoulders relaxing. He’s the one that blinks first, his eyelashes fluttering and then looking down as his grip on your arm relaxes. 

“What?” You ask simply, your voice firm but quiet. 

He shakes his head. 

You place your hand on his cheek and tilt his head upwards. “Blue?” 

“I’m sorry.” He mutters, his blinking heavily. “I… I should have…” 

You let him stumble over his words. 

“I… that was impolite… of me.” 

“What’s wrong?” 

He shakes his head again, but this time the action is not dismissive. You can see the cogs wiring in his mind as he tries to regulate his emotions. 

Softly, you rub your thumb against his cheek and he leans into the soothing motion. His breathing slows, his jaw loosens as he closes his eyes.

“The conversation with Gerald,” one of Blue’s lawyers, “about regulations… building permits.” 

Ah. This was to do with Blue’s planned expansion of the club.

“It didn’t,” he breathes deeply as he leans further into your touch. “I became… upset. I wanted…” He pauses again, opening his eyes to stare intently at you. “I needed to see you.” 

“There are better ways of getting my attention, aren’t there?” 

His nose wrinkles in displeasure. “Why were you even out there anyway?”

You go to drop your hand from his face but he grabs your wrist, squeezing slightly as he keeps you firmly against him. 

Rage sparks under your skin. “You want me to stay locked up in your rooms all day and night?” You hiss.

Your conversation with him the night before echoed in your ears. ‘You don’t have to do anything Lion, just stay here.’ Even though he hadn’t intended it to sound like a prison sentence, the idea still chilled you. Isolated from everyone but him. What happened if he just woke up one day and decided to throw you away? What happened when he did?

“Is that such a curse?” He growls, his eyes dark. 

Something in you snaps, the smallest thread of self-control splinters in your temple. You twist your hand, moving so that your fingers dig into one cheek, while your thumb presses against the other. You squeeze, tilting his head back. Feeling the indent of his teeth under your fingertips. 

Blue lets out a little gasp of surprise, his head falling back under the force of your grip. 

“Lion,” he lets out, broken and weak. 

You step closer. “What kind of fucking behaviour is this?” You whisper, letting your anger burn along your words. “I know we spoke about your reputation.” You sneer. “How it’s best for you to be perceived by others. But don’t you dare take that tone with me-”

“I’m sorry!” He sobs, his voice thick, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. 

You shake him slightly, a jolt that has him whimpering. 

“Never interrupt me.” 

His shoulders shake as he tries to fight down the wave of sobs that threaten to wreck his very core. 

You watch him with hard eyes. 

“Lion?” He whines. “Please, I’m so sorry-”

“I thought we were past this.” 

He breathes in shakily, tears spilling out and over his cheeks. “I didn’t mean, I’m so sorry, I shouldn't have been rude to you, I shouldn’t-” He bursts into full-blown tears, practical hysterics. Something that you haven’t seen from him before. 

You loosen your grip, wrapping your arms around him quickly and pulling him closer. “Shhh,” you rub his back, cradling his head as you soothe him. “Shhh, it’s alright.” 

“I didn’t,” he hiccups, trying to get air into his lungs and failing, “I didn’t mean to, didn’t mean to upset you. Disappoint you, I, I, I-”

You kiss his temple, gently leading him to the sofa, which is easier said than done while still holding him and his face pressed into your neck. 

As you sit down you take his cheeks in your hands, stroking his skin with your thumbs and smearing his tears. You kiss his nose and he smiles weakly while still crying. 

“Usually when I grab your face like that you get a boner.” You give him a soft look. 

He laughs once and nods, trying to calm himself down. 

“And we end up with your face between my thighs.” You keep your voice gentle and he swallows, nodding again. “Blue…”

He looks up at you, his eyes red. “I’m so sorry, Lion.”

You shake your head, about to tell him not to be when he puts his hands on your wrists. The touch is light this time as he lightly strokes your skin. “I was… I thought that was going to happen.” He says quietly. “I intended it to… To be our usual game.” He looks up at you a little nervously when he says ‘game’ and relaxes when you give him a warm smile. 

“Don’t be sorry.” You soothe. 

“I just… suddenly it felt…” He absentmindedly touches under his left collarbone, rubbing the thick, deep scar that you knew resided there. 

“It’s alright.” 

He nods. “Thank you.” 

Still cradling his cheeks, you kiss his temple, and then under his eyes, tasting the salt of his shed tears. 

He nuzzles into you, kissing your neck and chest over your clothes. You let him, kissing the top of his head and stroking his back. 

He moves lower slowly, pressing his lips to your thigh. 

“Blue,” you say softly, coaxing his face up so you can see him fully. “You don’t have to.” You don’t want him to think he has to perform, has to be constantly… oh. 

He gazes at you with heavily lidded eyes, his erection straining against his trousers. So much so you were sure he was going to pop a button. 

Lightly you trace along the edge of it with your fingernail and he groans, his eyelashes fluttering and still wet with tears as he smiles. 

“I’d like you too…” He swallows, already starting to feel like he’s floating. “I’d like you to ride me and…” he bites his lip, shivering. “I’d like you to smack me.” 

“Smack you?” You say, thinking back to when you had him across your lap. 

“Hmm,” he sighs dreamily, “here.” He touches his cheek. 

You’re not sure if this is such a good idea, especially after his sudden tears. “Blue-”

“Please Lion,” he bats his eyes and bites his lip. “Just sit on me, you don’t even have to move. Just keep,” he inches closer, almost swaying, like a predator about to pounce, “hitting me and let me come and I’ll clean up all my mess afterwards.” He rubs his nose against yours, slipping his tongue past your lips and kissing you desperately, drinking down your moan like a glutton. 

You wish it wasn’t so easy for him to coax you out of your clothes, for him to strip you bare while you were so distracted with his kiss. But there was a reason Blue was so used to getting his own way: he was undeniably persuasive. 

He has his suit jacket off, the top few buttons of his dress shirt undone and his tie loosened when he pulls you into his lap. He keeps kissing you, keeps running his hands up and down your skin and leaving goosebumps in his wake. 

Blue groans into your mouth as he squeezes the outside of your thighs before he hastily unbuckles his belt and unzips his fly. He pulls his aching cock out in a hurry, almost rough with himself, a vast difference to how slowly and reverently he had undressed you. 

He squeezes the thick base with one hand, pulling his lips away from yours long enough to groan, “Hmm, Lion, please, can you- ah!” His gasp is sweet and pools heat in your belly as you take him in hand and guide him between your folds. 

He lets you take control immediately, gasping as you glide his leaking tip through the wetness between your legs before you press him to your clit. 

He moans deeply, his eyes blown wide. “Lion,” He swallows, his throat bobbing, “God, you’re so wet, does seeing me cry turn you on?” There’s the smallest grin on his lips, and even though you know it is just a tease, you can’t help yourself. 

You squeeze the base of his cock a little hard and his eyes roll back. He lets out a harsh groan as he squirms. You know, for most, the action would be painful. 

“God Lion, please, you’ll make me come before I’m even inside.” He whimpers, his voice strained. He presses his head back against the sofa, trying to gain some control over himself, and grabs hold of your hips, squeezing his fingers into your sides. 

You chuckle and slowly press his fat tip to your entrance. There’s the smallest resistance before he breaches.

Blue swears, his eyes rolling back. His neck taut and exposed to you as he leans back. 

You spread your knees a little wider as you ease yourself down onto him. “It does, by the way.” 

“Hmm?” He looks up at you with hazy eyes, already drunk on the feel of you. 

“Seeing you cry turns me on.” 

“Fuck.” He tenses, the base of his cock pulsing. It takes all his will in the world to not come there and then.

You smile, stroking his hair as you sink further down. “That desperate for me?” 

He nods rapidly. “Yes, Lion, yes, so desperate.” He moans loudly as your thighs meet his, finally swallowing him to the hilt. “Thank you, thank you.” He whispers, blinking hard.

“Are you sure you want me to hit you here?” You trace a heart over his left cheek with the tip of your finger and he nods. 

“Please.” 

“Tell me if you want me to stop.” 

“I will, I promise.” He looks up at you, staring like you were the one who placed the stars into the sky. “I trust you, Lion.” 

You kiss him softly before you sit up fully. Blue hisses at the change of angle, his cock twitching as it rubbed against your walls. 

“Ready?” 

He manages to nod once before your palm collides with his cheek. The sound is sharp. It echoes like a bell ringing loudly in your ears. Blue’s face snaps to the side at impact, your hand tingles with the force. 

But his deep gasp and moan quickly alleviates any worry you had. 

He turns back to face you, his cheek already growing red. “Again.” 

You smack him. Harder this time. 

He turns quickly. “Again.”

Smack.

“Again.”

Smack.

“Agai-”

Smack.

Smack. Smack. Smack.

Blue wimpers, his body singing as the pain mixes dizzyingly in his veins. He can taste iron in his mouth. But it doesn’t stop him from turning back to face you.

Smack.

He gasps, groaning as his hips buck once, his back arching. Pleasure rushes over him, pulling him deliciously high before dragging him down, down, down into dark, sweet depths. He spurts inside you, warm and copious, filling you to the brim and trickling down his balls. 

He squeezes you as he comes, shuddering and shivering until he blinks heavily. 

You’re holding him close and tight, and he’s never been safer than this moment. Never been more protected than in your arms. 

He moves slowly and you loosen your grip so he can look up at you, dazed and happy. 

He doesn’t like how your eyes widen when you look at him. 

“Blue,” you swallow. There’s red in his teeth. You go to touch his lip and stop yourself. 

“Oh,” he runs his tongue over his incisors, and chuckles. “Just a small cut.” He pokes out his bottom lip to show you, he’s right. It is a small thing. “I think that was from the third hit.” 

“Blue-”

“It was so good, Lion. Please,” he strokes your cheek. “Don’t worry. I would have stopped you if it wasn’t, I promised didn’t I?” 

You nod, still a little uncertain. Your worry distracts you momentarily, and Blue leans up quickly to kiss you. He licks into your mouth, groaning as his blood hits your tongue. 

You take a sharp intake of breath, but you don’t pull away. You kiss him back harshly, lightly nipping at his lip and squeezing his shoulders when he moans. 

Gently, he coaxes you around so that he can lay you back against the sofa, with the armrest behind your head. 

He hisses as he pulls out, part of him already lamenting being away from you, but the sight of his spend dripping out of you makes him groan. 

“Oh, yes Lion,” he presses at your thighs, spreading you wider. “A feast.” 

You gasp as he dives to your core, dragging his warm tongue slowly through your folds in one long lick. He watches you intently as he runs over your clit, ending with a flick before he starts the whole process over again.

You jump, squirm, thrusting closer to his mouth and groaning when he uses one hand to press against your soft stomach, keeping you in place as he continues his languid torture. 

He refuses to go faster, to even sink his tongue in deeper, no matter how much you beg and pull at his hair. Always keeping up that same firm pressure and drawn out pace that is starting to make you lose your grip on reality. 

“Blue,” you plead, wriggle, your clit throbbing as he makes another slow trek through your pussy before his tongue can soothe the ache in your bundle of nerves. 

But even as he reaches that part you need his touch so desperately, it isn’t nearly long enough. You buck, trying to get just a little tiny bit more of that pressure, but it’s fruitless. 

“Blue,” you moan again, your tights shaking. Your stomach is pulled so tight you think you might explode, that heavy throb is painful. Maddening. 

He starts up again, groaning as he licks and, “Fuck,” you shiver, shake as he just drags over your clit, even slower than before, pushing firmer and, and-

You scream, your muscles tensing and spasming as pleasure explodes along your nerves, runs along your veins and overtakes your very being. 

You shiver in his arms as he swirls his tongue over your bundle of nerves again and again, watching you with lust blown eyes as he prolongs your pleasure for as long as he can. 

You sob, shaking with aftershocks as, finally, you start to recover. 

Blue places a light kiss to your core, then belly, before he moves up and settles back between your legs. He’s smiling as he strokes your cheek, looking the most content you’ve ever seen him. 

Lightly you trace his moustache, it’s soaking with his spit and your come. 

Sweat cools on your skin, and you notice the state of his shirt. “You’re going to need to change.” You tease and he laughs. 

Private Dances 7

Thank you for reading!

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told my girlfriend that if she proposes i want a secondhand wedding ring. i explained i don't want to contribute to a vanity-based industry like diamond mining, and that it would be important to me to continue marriage traditions in a way that causes minimal environmental and personal harm. she asked me if i was just trying to roll the dice on obtaining a haunted object, and i told her i can want two things.

santiago garcia- love at first sight

Santiago Garcia- Love At First Sight

Summary: Will and Benny bring over Frankie and Santiago for dinner. For Santiago, it’s love at first sight. (~3k)

Contents: no smut, fluffy and fun, fem reader, sexual implications and jokes, this whole thing is group banter and flirting with Santiago, reader had one night with Benny a long time ago

-----

You almost kick the four of them out of your house. Almost.

Will had immediately picked up a football that your nephews had left at your house, thrown it to Benny, and broken a lamp.

Benny had made himself a cold cut sandwich and eaten half, even though he knew you were making them a huge welcome dinner.

Frankie got the other half of the sandwich. He’d apologized, but he’d still eaten it.

And then there was Santiago.

When Benny said he was stopping by for the night, you were thrilled. He said Will might come. Great. And surprise, two other guys are coming by too.

Everyone was welcome, you’d said. You had a spare room, an office with a pullout couch, and a living room sofa. You knew how to cook for an army ha ha fucking ha.

Francisco Morales, who is tall and shaggy and adorable.

Santiago Garcia, who is not as tall, in no way shaggy, and looks at you like you’re covered in gravy, and he’s going to eat you all the way up.

You kick them all out into the backyard.

On his way out, Santiago dares, he dares, to pretend he doesn’t have enough room to get by you while you’re at the stove. Has to lay his hand on the small of your back to squeeze by.

“Excuse me,” he says politely.

You tap the wooden spoon on the side of the spicy corn you’re frying. You point it at him. “You’re not fooling anyone, Garcia. Keep your mitts to yourself.”

He grins. He tilts his head like, you don’t want that. We both know it.

You jump when Benny’s big hand lands on your shoulder. “Oooh, sweetheart, that smells amazing. Gonna finally put some hair on Pope’s chest with that,” he says.

You look Santiago up and down. “You smooth like a Ken doll?”

He licks his lips, chin tilted up slightly. “Not everywhere.”

His dark, brown eyes lock onto yours. You look away first. Damn.

Benny reaches out and shoves Santiago’s shoulder. Half good-natured, half a little too hard.

“I told you not to flirt with her. She’s already doing all of this for us. She doesn’t need you slobbering all over the back of her neck.” Benny reaches for a roll, fresh from the oven, and you smack his hand. He hisses and shakes it out. “Be nice or I’ll tell Pope how you and I met.”

You shoot him a warning glare.

“I want two rolls before dinner,” Benny says, always angling for more food.

“No, you wait like everyone else.” You slide the basket further away from him.

Benny pauses, then looks at Santiago. “We had sex on prom night. We weren’t even each others’ dates. Which is also why she’s off limits to you. The four of us have a strict bro’s before-“

You clear your throat. “Rethink the end of that phrase, Miller Two. Or you’ll be eating saltine crackers on the side of the road.”

Benny grins. He puts his hands up and backs away.

“Out, both you,” you say.

Benny leaves, but Santiago slides up next to you. He stops short of actually touching you, but you can almost feel his body heat. The scent of him makes your mouth water.

“Let me help you,” he says, smooth and even. “I’m a good cook. I promise.”

Knowing he probably won’t leave you alone, you give him the spoon. At least this way, he’ll be occupied. “Stir that. Don’t burn my corn,” you say.

“I’d never let anything bad happen to your corn.” He stirs slowly, watching the pan. “I hope I get to eat a huge helping of your corn later. I’m sure your corn is fucking delicious.”

Corn should not be sexual.

But you guess Santiago Garcia never met a word he couldn’t make sound like an orgasm waiting to happen.

He shoots a glance at you from the corner of his eye.

Yup. He knows what he’s doing.

With a huff, you check the double-ovens. You’ve made not one, not two, but three pot roasts. And mashed potatoes. And stuffed onions. And the corn and rolls.

You figured four grown-men back from the jungle would ensure no leftovers. Also, you were glad to see Benny and Will alive and mostly uninjured and this was how you expressed happiness.

Although Will seemed to wince when you hugged his middle. You’d interrogate him later.

Of course, you were glad Catfish and Pope were alive and well. You’d only heard about them until today, but you almost felt like you knew them.

Or rather, Frankie seems to be everything you’d heard.

Santiago is a whole other kettle of… corn.

At least he works in silence. He puts in a little more salt, stirs, turns down the heat.

And then he just watches you.

Watches you take the roasts out of the oven and cover them to rest. Watches you check the onions.

“Stop doing that,” you say, gesturing to the glass-fronted cabinet on the other side of the kitchen. It was your grandma’s and still holds her good dishes. “Do you know how to set a table, or do you eat all your meals with a plastic spork?”

“It’s metal actually,” Santiago says seriously.

You almost laugh. Santiago’s eyes light up when he sees you unable to control a smile. He scratches the stubble on his chin, the sound making your stomach flutter.

“I’ll get Will to help. He’ll make sure everything’s in order,” Santiago starts to leave, but turns back. “Hey, I couldn’t get a straight answer out of Benny. You and he still…”

You roll your eyes. “Just set the table, Spork. Do something civilized.”

Santiago smiles. It almost makes him look harmless. “Don’t worry. For the right woman, I’m completely domesticated.”

“I very much doubt that,” you say as you watch him open your back door to call for Will.

Although, he’d been the only one to take off his boots at the front door without being asked. Something your mother always says to watch out for. Means a man has good manners and is thoughtful.

But what does she know? Your father hogs the bucket of popcorn at the movies and leaves empty water glasses all over the house.

But he’s still completely and utterly devoted to you mother. Still brings her flowers. Still pinches her butt when he thinks his kids aren’t looking.

Will nods to you when he walks in the kitchen. His blue eyes see everything. He silently asks if you’re okay. You nod back.

“So, you gonna let this guy stay for dinner?” He claps Santiago on the back.

“He wasn’t the one who broke a lamp.” You give Will a pointed look and he nods in apology.

Santiago opens your grandma’s cabinet and starts taking out plates. The porcelain barely rattles. He’s quick, but careful.

His muscled shoulders flex under his dark t-shirt as he reaches in for the bowls. The flowered china should look ridiculous in his hands, but he treats the set of dishes with as much care as you do.

By the time you realize you’ve stopped everything and you’re just standing there, watching him, Will is already smirking, tongue working around the front of his teeth. He picks up the stack of plates, shaking his head.

They clatter slightly.

Santiago points at Will. “Ay, be fucking careful. These look like antiques.”

You have to turn so they don’t see you melt into a puddle of steaming hot goo. Thoughtful, just like your mother said.

You corral Santiago and Will into helping you bring everything to the big, oval table in the dining room. They sit on either side of you.

If you thought it was chaos when they’d arrived, dinner is a 3-ring circus. The serving platters never hit the tablecloth. They inhale everything as soon as it’s passed around.

It’s very gratifying. You’d complain about them chewing with their mouths open, but you don’t because they’re complimenting you between every single bite.

“You guys are like a pack of dogs,” you say. “I mean that as a compliment.”

“She prefers animals to people,” Benny says to Santiago.

“The four of us have seen people do things animals wouldn’t,” Santiago says, breaking into a roll and slathering butter on it. “Hell, we’ve lived dirtier than dogs.”

Frankie points at Santi. “Correct. I have a picture from Afghanistan. Your socks were so gross, they stood up by themselves.”

Your face dissolves into disgust. “No. That’s horrible. This is a dinner table, Frankie.”

“Sorry, mom. Ma’am,” Frankie goes completely red.

There’s a beat of silence before everyone breaks out laughing. Even Frankie, though he looks like he’s in physical pain.

“In Frankie’s defense, we always kind of thought of you like Will and Benny’s family,” Santiago says. “Although now I know that you and Benny used to date-“

“What the fuck did you just say?” Will says, his jaw tight, blue eyes zeroing in on his brother.

Santiago’s face goes slack. “Oh shit.”

Benny’s fork clatters onto his plate.

“Careful with the china,” you yell at him.

“Sorry,” he says, then turns to Will. “We didn’t date. We just…” he motions with his fingers.

Will’s face looks like manslaughter, “no. Don’t tell me anymore.”

Santiago leans in. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

You mime slicing your neck open with your thumb. His face relaxes again, amused.

You turn to Will, seeing how spooled up he is about the revelation that you and Benny had been more than friends once upon a time.

“Will? What’s the dumbest thing you ever did before you were 20?” You ask him.

His jaw works back and forth, his fork swiping through the food on his plate. “Couldn’t really say.”

“The dumbest thing I ever did was your brother, Benjamin Miller,” you say.

“Hey, why do I get hurt in this?” Benny says.

“Shh,” Frankie hushes him.

“It was once, the night we met, and it never happened again,” you say, passing Will the bread basket.

He takes it with a grim look. “We’re going to keep on pretending it never happened.”

“You’re the one who brought Loud Mouth Garcia to dinner. Can’t even keep a secret. How the hell were you ever Delta?” You say to Santiago.

“Persistence,” he says, brown eyes sparkling at you, “I’m a persistence predator.”

Benny clears his throat. “Hey creep-o-saurus-rex, pass the pot roast.”

Santiago picks up the dish and holds it out to Benny, his eyes still on you. “T-rex wasn’t a persistence predator, Benny.”

“Whatever, quit looking at her like you want to eat her out at the dinner table,” he mumbles, scooping food onto his plate.

Will takes a roll out of the basket and beans it off Benny’s head.

“I’m still gonna eat that,” Frankie says, reaching down where it landed on the floor and picking it back up. “Damn good meal.”

You take a moment to look around at this table full of ridiculousness. It’s almost like an out of body experience. Two guys who are like your brothers. One guy who apparently needs a mother figure so badly he’s willing to settle for someone younger than him.

And Santiago Garcia.

You’re going to have a hell of a hard time sneaking him into your room later. Never mind that you can tell he’s going to make you come your brains out at the top of your lungs.

Will taps your foot under the table. He grins at you. “You missed us. Admit it.”

You act like you’re not sure. “I was having a really nice day until you and your chucklefuck friends showed up.”

“We can get hotel rooms. We don’t want to put you out,” Frankie says, his lost puppy eyes working exactly how he’d intended. “You’ve already done enough.”

“I want you all to stay. Trust me,” you reassure him. “I have 2 dozen eggs in the refrigerator for tomorrow morning and big plans for french toast.”

Santiago groans. “You’re going to put me into a coma. But before I go, please, marry me.”

Benny whistles under his breath. “Never heard Pope say the ‘M’ word before.”

“Dibs on Will for the wedding party,” you say, looking at Santiago out of the corner of your eye.

“Okay. I’ll take Benny and Frankie,” Santiago says.

You eye his plate. “Did you like my corn?”

“Fucking loved it.”

You hear chairs pushing back from the table. You and Santiago’s eyes break apart.

“I’m taking my plate outside. You two are making me nauseous,” Will says.

“Right behind you,” Benny picks up his plate and the dish of pot roast.

Frankie looks torn, but eventually gives in and stands too. “Give us a holler when you’re done.” His face gets pink. “Not like done, doing anything. I don’t think you’re going to do it right here. But it’s your house. If you want to.”

Will sighs. “Catfish, quit while you’re not even ahead.”

Santiago stretches his arm out on the back of your chair as the other guys make a quick exit. His fingertips brush lightly against your arm.

“So,” he says, “were you just giving Will and Benny a hard time or are we really doing this?”

“I don’t know. Are you all talk? A flirting for sport kind of guy?”

You’d gotten that impression of Santi, from some of the stories you’d heard. But in person, he doesn’t strike you as shallow or fake. You always trust your gut about people. And your gut says to trust Santiago.

“I’m not flirting. I’m not hunting,” he says. “I’m just, talking to the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with.”

You can’t breathe for a few seconds. Those words, smooth and warm, his serious eyes and the corner of his mouth still raised in half a grin.

Santiago’s hand brushes your hairline at the back of your neck, then settles onto your skin, ever so slightly massaging your muscles.

“Will you let me take you to dinner tomorrow night? Away from these ‘chucklefucks,’ as you so lovingly said.” His fingers wind their way down, into the collar of your shirt, where your shoulder and neck meet.

“Well, to be clear, I was also including you in that group. But, yes, I’d love to go out with you.”

Santiago looks visibly relieved. Something about his confidence, how it’s both real and also a complete front, makes you want to hold onto him. Keep him.

His fingers pull back. He brushes his knuckles over your chin. Before you can do the same, feel the scrape of his five o’clock shadow on your fingers, Frankie comes bounding back into the dining room.

“Sorry for interrupting,” he rubs his hands together nervously, “do you have any ketchup?”

Your happy mood disappears. You glare at Frankie. “You tell Benny that if he puts ketchup on my pot roast, I’m never cooking for him again. Also, don’t let him make you do his dirty work, Frankie. You’re a grown man.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Frankie says with a grim smile. “What about the potatoes, though? For me. Not for Benny.”

“Fine. Refrigerator, top shelf,” you roll your eyes. “I always thought Will would’ve kept you guys in line.”

Santiago leans back in his chair. He looks at home already. “Will doesn’t like to interfere. Man of few words. Benny got all the talking in that family, not that I need to tell you that.”

It’s a little bit amazing to you, that he can sit here in your house like he’s been here a million times before, talking with you like you’re already together, about men you both know, but under very different circumstances.

His dark eyes sparkle at you, looking you over. “I used to think you were pretty, in the pictures Will or Ben would show us. You looked happy. It was nice to see someone having a normal life while we were over there, not being normal. It was good you sent that stuff, pictures and food and whatever.”

“Oh yeah? And who was sending you photos, and whatever?” You ask him.

“Mostly the Playboy Corporation,” Santiago grins. “I’m kidding. No one, actually. My family sometimes. No one like you.”

He’s so sweet you can’t believe this is the same guy you’d heard Will and Benny talk about for years. The smooth talker. The face man. Pope, who probably wouldn’t ever settle down.

No, this is a man who’s wanted to settle down for years. He just wouldn’t settle for less than exactly what he wanted. Which, it seems like, is you.

“Hey.” You give in to your number one urge and run your fingers through his black and silver curls. “How about I ask the guys to clean this up, and you and I go out for dessert? There’s a really good ice cream place downtown.”

Santiago’s face lights up like the fourth of July. “Only if we can get it to-go. We can sit in my truck and neck afterward.”

“Deal. We can ask Frankie to babysit the other two,” you laugh.

His hand finds yours, his fingers linking through and raising your hand to kiss your palm.

“Think we can still do this in ten years?” He asks.

“Do what?” You ask, confused.

“Go out for dessert, just the 2 of us, and leave the kids at home with Frankie.”

“Wow, you really go all in, don’t you, Garcia?” You smile.

“For you, yeah,” Santiago says. “I’ve worked my ass off, for what feels like every day of my life. This is the one thing that’s ever felt easy. Love at first sight.”

Your heart flutters, then drops right in front of him. You can’t help it. He’s right. Like he knows you feel it too, he leans in, like he can’t wait for this first kiss.

His soft lips press against yours.

And bang! There’s a huge crash on the table as mashed potatoes fly everywhere. Onto your clothes. In Santiago’s hair.

“Oh shit, sorry,” Will shouts from the kitchen.

A football sits squarely in the dish of potatoes.

“We’re not bringing them home any ice cream,” Santiago says, but he’s all smiles anyway, pulling you in to finish what’s still a perfect first kiss.

Santiago Garcia- Love At First Sight

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I genuinely think there was no greater insight into the modern Christian mindset than when the Pope said he very much hoped Hell was empty and he was absolutely hounded by both Catholics and Protestants outraged at the idea of a man who wanted a place of infinite suffering to have nobody in it.

STEVENN😍

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— – - – — – - – — – - – — – - – — – - – — – - – — – -

Call me something

Fic type -> NSFW + Drabble

Warnings -> Degrading kink, sub Steven, just jerking Steven off 🤷‍♀️, cum eating too

Word count -> 972, three or four book pages

Please check out my other drabbles either on here or on my AO3, the link is at the end <3

~Masterlist~ / Drabble I made alongside this one

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“Shit Steven…”

You feel his boner through his jeans as you half-straddle one of his legs on his bed, your knee pressing up against it.

“Ah, um, sorry love…”

He looks down, or to the side, wherever you’re not which isn’t anywhere really since you’re so close to his face.

“No no no no no, it’s cute how you’re all hot and bothered for me already.”

You say with a playful smirk as you place one of your hands on his waist and the other under his chin to lift his flushing face up to meet yours. He can’t seem to help but give you those doe eyes as he finally looks at you.

“I love how fucking sensitive you are, any little touch I give you drives you up the wall.”

Steven’s lips part as if to say something, a small exhale is let out onto your skin instead. He furrows his eyebrows as he presses his lips shut and tries to look away once more.

A spark of worry is sent through you from his reaction.

“Shit ‘m sorry Steven, I didn’t mean it like that…”

A beat of silence passes through, Steven finally says something beating you to it.

“No I… you… I-I’d like it if you meant it like that…”

You bite the inside of your lip as less-than-appropriate situations flood your mind, you lean in so your lips are nearly touching. He looks back at you with those same doe eyes.

“How far can I go?”

You trail the hand on his waist down to his hips.

“U-um, just whatever- whatever comes to mind…”

You crash your lips together in an instant, finding a rhythm quickly. Steven moans into the kiss as your hand moves to grip his hardening cock through his jeans, pressing your palm into it making his arms fly up to hug you closer.

You pull away and start kissing down his neck, sucking hickeys all down the length of it.

“Y/n-“

He involuntarily jerks his hips up into your hand, applying more of that sweet pressure he craves.

“So desperate. You’ve no patience.”

You mutter against his skin. Steven squeezes his eyes shut as a moan catches in his throat, feeling your hot mouth against it still.

A smirk forms on your lips as you realise the sheer effect your words are having on him.

You hastily unbuckle his belt and undo his jeans to reach down into his boxers.

“I c-can feel you grinning, you-you smug bastard.”

“I wasn’t tryna hide it”

His dick in hand you start to slowly stroke him, teasing the tip with your thumb.

“Oh-“

Steven lets his head fall forward into the crook of your neck, his hands sliding up your back under your shirt holding you close to him.

“You’re clingy too…”

You feel him sigh into your neck, then his breathing gradually getting faster and heavier as you speed up your hand.

“Don’t you- don’t you want me to do something?”

“No, I like seeing you like this. God I’m only jerking you off and you’re holding onto me for dear life.”

He groans and gasps slightly as you tease around his slit, massaging that sweet spot just below the head.

“C-call me something-“

“What?”

A moan interrupts his line of thinking.

“Just- just…”

“You have to know how pathetic you’re being Steven, getting off on me calling you things.”

It may just be something off the top of your head but his thighs flex nonetheless, almost closing in around your hand. He lets out a shaky breath against your shoulder.

“‘m close…”

“Of course you are, fucking slut. It barely takes anything for you to cum.”

“God-“

His grip on your back tightens as he arches his back into you, there’s sure to be marks left behind. Spurts of cum litter his abdomen and your hand.

Steven lets his head fall back on the pillow as he catches his breath, little moans weaving their way out as he comes down from his high.

All you feel you can do is look at how worn out he already is.

“You really enjoyed that didn’t you?”

“Well yea, I… I guess so.”

You chuckle quietly as you move to lay down next to him.

“I still have your cum all over my hand.”

He furrows his eyebrows.

“What d’you want me to do about that?”

He turns his head to look at you, not expecting the lusty stare he’s met with.

“You know you wanna.”

You smile as he looks at your hand held in front of him, then back to you. He purses his lips and can’t help but look back at your hand once more.

“Come on, I can practically hear you thinking it.”

You swing a leg over his waist and hold your fingers to his lips. He opens his mouth and starts to lick his cum off of your hand.

“That’s it, clean up your mess.”

He looks up at you as he licks a fat stripe up your wrist to the tips of your fingers, then going back and gathering the rest of it up. You can feel his breath against your hand, and how he clings onto your forearm so tightly preventing it from moving anywhere.

You reach down to him with your other hand and thread your fingers through his unkempt hair.

“Don’t waste any of it Steven…”

You narrow your eyes, he groans against your hand and both of you furrow your eyebrows.

He finally gets all of it off your hand, sucking a bit on the ends of your fingers just to tease.

“There…”

Barely a murmur out of him and he lets your arm go, awkwardly placing them at his sides not being entirely sure what to do with them.

You tighten your grip on his soft curls making him tense up beneath you.

“My turn.”

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My AO3


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I LOVE this series so much 🤭🤭

Trine [10]

Trine [10]
Trine [10]
Trine [10]

Anselm Vogelweide x Blue Jones x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Kinktober 2023 Masterlist • Day 28: Cock Rings

Summary: Anselm has a new toy for Blue.

A/N: This was meant to be for kinktober 2023 (I'm so sorry).

Trine Masterlist

Warnings: threesome, anal sex, cock rings, oral sex (f! receiving), anal cream pie, coming on someone's stomach, cum eating, anal oral sex (m! receiving), butt plugs, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 1592

Trine [10]

Blue shivers when you kiss his neck, leaning back and pressing closer to your soft touch. He sighs happily, his eyes half closed. 

Then he yelps as Anselm flicks the cock ring around his length. 

Blue scowls and Anselm chuckles at him. 

“What was that for?” 

“That,” Anselm moves closer, taking Blue’s jaw in his hand, “was completely for my amusement.” He kisses Blue wantonly, licking into his mouth and sucking on his tongue until he is a panting mess, gasping for air. 

“How does it feel?” You whisper in Blue’s ear, stroking one hand down his chest and hip, skirting around the curls between his legs. 

Blue nods.

“Not too tight?” 

He shakes his head. “Feels comfortable… a little odd.” 

You smile and kiss his temple and Blue preens. 

It’s a triple cock ring in stainless steel that Anselm, of course, had custom made for Blue. A ring rests around each of his balls as well as at the base of his heavy cock. 

“Come on now, my loves,” Anselm gives you both a cheeky grin, “enough hugging and kissing and let’s get to business.” 

Blue pouts a little and you purposefully hold him a little tighter and litter his forehead and the side of his face with kisses.

“When have you ever said that’s too many kisses?” You tease.

“When I could be getting fucked.” Anselm purrs, stroking your cheek and kissing you softly. 

You smile, slipping out from behind Blue and giving his ass a little pinch when he grumbles. 

You go and sit down on the bed, pillows propped up on the headboard so you can sit comfortably. “Do I get a bit of a show?” You grin. 

Anselm chuckles, “Oh, I hope so.” He gets on all fours on the mattress, facing you. He leans down a little and kisses your ankle, nipping lightly at your skin. 

You tut with good humour and lightly push his face away with your other foot. 

Blue bites his bottom lip a little nervously as he glances between you both. A little knot of anxiety low in his stomach. 

Anselm grabs both of your ankles and sinks his teeth into your calf, grinning when you yelp and giggle, and delighting further when you plunge your hand into his hair. 

You glance up at Bue and give him a warm smile. ‘It’s okay.’ You mouth softly at him and he nods. 

Blue moves onto the bed behind Anselm and lightly grabs his hips. Anselm stills, pressing his beard to your leg as he lets Blue take his time. 

Slowly, Blue runs his hands along Anselm’s ass and the back of his thighs, seeming to commit everything to memory before he lightly pulls the buttplug out of Anselm completely. 

He groans into your leg, eyes rolling back as the thick toy pops out of him. “Sehr gut, meine Süße.” Very good, my sweet. 

Blue shivers at the praise, his cock throbbing. But his hands shake ever so slightly as he pours lube over himself and then adds a liberal amount to Anselm’s already well lubricated hole. 

Anselm arches his back slightly, making the action easier and moaning headly as the cool substance runs along his skin. The top of his cock brushes against the cotton of the bedsheets, smearing precum and making him shiver. 

“Come on now, my love, I want to feel you inside.” He groans, his fingers holding onto your legs while you pull at his hair lightly. 

“Don’t be a brat.” You tease softly, “let him take his time.” 

Anselm pouts playfully at you. “I’ll remember that, my love.” He says darkly. 

“I hope you do.” You give him a cheeky smile. 

Blue notches himself at Anselm’s entrance, swallowing as he starts to ease inside. 

Anselm groans, throwing his head back, “that’s it, meine süße, that’s it, I can take you.” 

Blue whimpers, shivering as he sinks deeper. Anselm’s muscles squeeze around him, drag him deeper and he gasps. A wave of lightheadedness washes over him at the warmth. 

“Oh,” he lets out the tiniest sound and you smile. 

He presses closer, thrusting in the last few inches and grunts as he leans forward, practically laying over Anselm’s back as he breathes and gathers himself. 

Anselm moans delightedly, “Ah, wonderful, wonderful, I can feel you in the most perfect spot.” It’s Anselm who starts to rock back and forth, encouraging Blue to move.

Blue bites his lip, sitting back up on his knees and holding onto Anselm’s hips as he bucks and grinds, letting the older man completely control the pace as he clings on for dear life. 

“Blue,” you say softly and his attention snaps to you immediately. “You okay?”

He nods rapidly, “Feels really good,” he whines, his expression tense as he tries to master the sensations running through his limbs. 

“You like being inside our husband?” You tease and he whimpers. 

“Yes, I do mommy, I do.” He bites his lip again hard, gasping as his skin heats up and burns. 

Anselm rocks back forcefully against him, groaning and muttering praises. 

You grab Anselm’s hair a little tighter, forcing him to bend his neck back, “Ah, my love,” he groans and grins. 

“Stop moving.” You lean down and kiss his nose. Anselm smiles happily and does what you ask straight away without question. He stills his hips, only wriggling ever so slightly and enjoying the sensation of Blue filling him completely. 

“Come here and keep your lower half still.” As you settle back down you gently coax him down with you, pressing his head between your legs. 

He groans, his hands grabbing and squeezing your thighs as he drives in and swirls his tongue around your clit. 

You breathe in deeply, your muscles clenching as he laps and sucks. You swallow, letting him hook your right leg over his shoulder and press your heel into his upper back, so that he is now truly, face down ass up. 

You look back to Blue, “Now, sweet thing,” you smile at him, trying to keep your focus and not fall under Anselm’s spell immediately. “I want you to fuck him however you want, understand?” 

Blue nods a little uncertainly. 

“He’ll love it.” 

Blue smiles back softly and takes an experimentally slow thrust, pulling out and back in and revelling in the wet sound of the lube as his cock is practically sucked inside. 

Anselm moans between your legs as he laps at your pussy, his fingers digging into your skin. 

Blue gasps, shivers as he picks up his pace. He moves, placing one foot flat while kneeling with the other leg so he can put more power into his thrusts. Anselm’s walls clench around him, squeezing rhythmically. 

“Fuck.” Blue bites his lip, bucking harshly. He can’t stop his body from moving even if he tried, his muscles switching to overdrive to chase the pleasure completely. 

He can’t tear his eyes away from you both, how Anselm’s fingers spread out on your skin, how you arch and writhe under his mouth. 

Anselm groans, the sound low and deep as Blue pounds into him, his heavy cock hitting perfectly against his sweet spot and making him light headed. The friction is delicious, deep and heady as he stretches him wide, bullying further and further inside. 

“I’m, I’m,” Blue sobs, he shouldn’t be so close already, surely the ring should be helping him to hold back a fraction? But the sensations are burning and twisting so tight in his belly, pulling so hard on his bones. His balls try to draw up but the ring stops them, heightening the sensation.

Your eyes meet his as you keep Anselm’s mouth flush against you so he can’t get too bossy. “You can come Blue,” you whine, your blood singing with the promise of bliss. “Come whenever you want.” 

He cries out, tears in the corners of his eyes as he comes hard and deep, spurting into Anselm and filling him up rapidly. The cock ring draws out the pleasure, makes it last and last and last as he falls forward, gasping for air. 

You coo softly, muttering praises as Blue whimpers and pulls out slowly, his cum leaking out of Anselm’s entrance. 

Quickly, he ducks forward, licking up the older man’s balls and lapping at his hole as he reaches around and pumps Anselm’s heavy cock in time with the laps of his tongue. 

Anselm’s back bows, he practically growls as he feels Blue’s warm and eager tongue. 

“Ah, that’s it Blue,” you whine, your breathing catching as Anselm presses two fingers inside you as he sucks on your clit. “Make him come.” 

Anselm curls his fingers, rubbing perfectly at your walls as he swirls his tongue, purses his lips and you cry out, your fingers scraping along his scalp. 

Pleasure rushes over your nerves and whites out your vision, leaving you dreamy and weightless and Anselm works you through it. 

Blue groans excitedly, wriggling as your sighs hit his ears. 

Anselm moans as your cum hits his tongue, lapping greedily before he sits up quickly. Blue moves back, surprised, but Anselm wraps his hand around Blue’s jerking himself quickly and then gasping as he comes all over your stomach in hot, thick ropes. 

He sighs happily as he shakes, coming down from his high and softly takes hold of the back of Blue’s neck. “Time for clean up, my love.” 

He doesn’t even need to guide Blue to your skin, he practically jumps on you in excitement, his tongue lapping up Anselm’s spend. 

Trine [10]

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DUTY CALLS

DUTY CALLS

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

! Smut Warning !

a/n: i wrote this super quickly bc honestly i’ll never get enough of this idea however many times it’s done😭

-> drabble <-

DUTY CALLS
DUTY CALLS
DUTY CALLS
DUTY CALLS
DUTY CALLS

"God, you feel so fucking good." Aaron groaned, his voice both hoarse and breathy as he thrust his hips in quick succession against your own, trailing the pad of his thumb over your pebbled nipple, the warmth of his body looming over yours as he toyed with the stiff peak.

“Aaron..” His name fell from your lips amidst a soft moan, feeling heat burn through your skin with each stroke of his hips against you.

"I know." He breathed, "Taking my cock so well, honey."

He thrust his hips quicker, splaying his large hands across your chest, squeezing possessively at your breasts as he ran his opposing hand from its grip of your hips to your bare ass.

"That's my good girl." He practically grunted, warm skin smacking together. Purposeful in his teasing, Aaron rolled the hardened peak of your nipple between his fingers, pulling a shaky moan from your mouth.

"Fuck, yes.." You whined back arching in a plea for more - his touch somehow both firm and tender against the sensitivity.

"Such pretty tits, darling." He praised, hungry gaze running deep as it wandered back between your thighs. His cock twitched between the pulses of your walls as he absorbed the sight of him disappearing inside your cunt, your arousal soaking his shaft.

As your teeth punctured into your lower lip, a blaring ringtone escaped Aaron’s phone as it lay atop the beside table.

"Shit." He hissed, eyes flitting to the number that presented itself on his screen.

"Aaron.." You begged, "Please don't- fuck- don't stop.."

Your words sent heat pumping through him as he kept up the pace of him without fail, teeth gritting in response to your plea, his jaw tight with conflict. After the passing of a few short moments, he seized the phone in his hand, shooting you a stern look as he swiped his thumb over the screen.

“Hotchner.” He spoke, clearing his throat as he brought his rhythm to be much slower, assuring the sound of your skin colliding wasn’t audible over the line.

Your eyes widened in an instant, the thrill of it only heightening your arousal. You breathed softly, trying your absolute best to remain quiet as you heard a male voice mumbling on the other end of the exchange.

With his remaining hand, Aaron slid the pad of his thumb upward from your breasts, sliding it messily over your lips as he silently mouthed, ‘Open.’

Suppressing your desperation to make a noise, you parted your lips and allowed him to slide the pad of his thumb against your tongue.

"Have you sent the files over?" He inquired, keeping his voice impressively steady as he moved slowly against you.

Satisfied whimpers fought to escape your throat as you pushed them down, feeling Aaron’s thumb pressing against your tongue. Without the need to be told, you wrapped your lips around the thick digit, muffling yourself around his thumb as you watched him clutch the device against his ear.

His eyelids shut for a brief moment before he forced them open again, clearly struggling to hold back as he felt you squeezing him. The sight of you certainly didn’t help either, cunt full of his tauntingly slow thrusts as you sucked sweetly at his thumb, only nearing his release, “Alright. Be there soon.”

The very moment the phone beeped and the call cut, Aaron let out a frustrated groan. He wasted no time in picking up the pace of his hips once more, dragging his now damp thumb down your chin, “You did so good for me, honey. Now show me how loud you can be.”

DUTY CALLS

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ewusernamessuck-offical - D1LF•L043R
D1LF•L043R

24•Any pronouns•I reblog fics I like

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