OtherThingsInHead

When you came to, you realized his mouth was still on you, making lewd slurping noises that made you flush in equal parts mortification and arousal. He wasn’t using his fingers or employing that masterful technique you’d been privy to just minutes before. No, he was licking you up indiscriminately, fueled by nothing but his own hunger, drinking up as much of you as he could coax out.

Greed, gluttony, lust. A single sin, so powerful it was condemned by three names. A sin from the devil, a sin any good soul would turn and run from. But when Maxwell Lord finally looked up, sickly and red-eyed and you-drunk, you swore he was sin incarnate; grotesque and gorgeous; unearthly and so human you almost couldn’t look.

And so you grasped his face and pulled him close and kissed the devil so hard that he whimpered against you.

“Fuck, you taste so fucking good,” he breathed. “Never wanna go without it. Without you.” He squeezed your waist with his big hands, desperate to feel a just a little more of your flesh on his. “S-sweet girl, can- can I fuck you? Please, baby, will you let me inside you?”

“Yes,” you gasped. “Take it all, Max. Everything you want. Fuck my throat until you cum— hell, cum inside me, Max, it’s all yours, mi amor…”

He stopped short at the words, and you wondered, with a growing feeling of dread, whether you’d gone too far. You were about to apologize when, to your surprise, he leaned in and pressed a passionate, needy kiss to your lips.

The words echoed around his head; mi amor, mi amor, mi amor. Words that had eluded him all his life, from his parents’ marriage to his own. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t said it before; he used it when he played up his latino side to seduce the socialites at his galas before snapping back into his business façade. But this wasn’t an act, wasn’t a fake blonde hairdo or some “exotic” sexual stereotype.

He didn’t need to be anything else with you, he realized. There was no one to appease, no one to be. You cared no matter what, and he had no clue how to handle it. What does one do with such safety? How do they live with such security, such love? Shakily, he took a deep breath, kissed you once more, and took the plunge.

“Shit,” he swore, and opened his pants, too hurried to take them off all the way.

Shit indeed.

Put politely, he was nothing if not a man of… excess.

Flashing you a boyish grin at the look on your face, he leaned back, shifting his hips to give you a better view. The strokes he gave himself were languid and lazy, although the look growing in his eyes told a different story. You watched in wonder as the mischievous look on his face melted into one of sweet agony.

“I- fuck- you know I did this almost every day? Had to,” he gasped, his grip tightening as he tried to keep his cool, “Had to every time I heard you take a call- so fucking smart, so good— too good for me.”

Hearing him— the Mr. Lord you’d dreamed of for so long— confess that he’d fucked his fist to the thought of you had your breath catching in your throat. You crawled over to where he reclined, stopping between his legs and dipping your head down to pull his cock into your mouth, just once, before looking back up at him and licking your lips.

“But Mr. Lord, you don’t have to do that anymore. C’mon, Maxie, use me instead.” Although he stiffened even further at your words, he shook his head fervently.

“Oh, baby, you know I will. But I swear I can’t go another second outside that sweet pussy…” he hoisted you up, lowering you, shaking in his grasp, onto him for the very first time. He moaned soundlessly as you took him, his fingers squeezing your sides until it hurt. “Is that it, honey? Is this what you were so needy for? Is this what you’ve been thinking about, my filthy girl?” You nodded fervently, trying to get him to start moving as he held you, squirming in agony, on his cock.

“Yes, Max, please!” He chuckled, a strained sound as you clenched around him.

“Ask and you will receive.”

His first thrust sent you reeling, an experimental collision, testing your response. A cry ripped from your throat before you could catch it, and he smirked; just as he’d hoped. He did it a second time, wanting to hear you once again, and who were you to deny him that pleasure? He thrusted harder and harder, a dark part of him hungry to see just how far he could push you until you broke; how many thrusts to fuck you back together.

“What, more than you bargained for?” He leered at you. You met him thrust for thrust, the exquisite strain of keeping coherent clear across your face.

“Not- fuck- enough.”

“God, you’re perfect— perfectly dirty, I bet there’s nothing you wouldn’t let me do to you, no, sweetheart?”

“N-nothing,” you gasped.

“Mmm,” he rumbled, the sound a delicious cross between a purr and a growl. “Such a shameless little slut… bet you’d let me show you off, hmm? Take you while I’m on air, show the whole world what’s mine?”

“Fuck!” You clenched around him, shivering uncontrollably.

“Oh, you would like that, huh?” He grinned menacingly. “Like being fucked where the whole world can see just how dirty you are? Want everyone on Earth to see what a pretty little whore you are for me?”

You gasped praise into the crook of his neck as you held on for dear life; eyes and ears and cunt full of his fervor.

“Yes, yes, make me yours, so good, it feels so good.” He chuckled and kissed the top of your head, a split second of tenderness before one of his great hands cracked against your ass, causing you to look up in shock. Tears began to run in glistening rivulets down your flushed cheeks, and your voice was hoarse from your cries and the day’s events, and still— even still— you mustered the strength to beg like your life depended on it.

“…More, Max, more,” you cried plaintively. He clicked his tongue soothingly before leaning in and whispering in your ear.

“So desperate for my marks on you… but of course, my dear, who am I to judge? If anything, you should indulge more. We want what we want, after all.” He swiftly obliged, his generosity stinging across your skin with a sharp smack.



“Yes!” You sobbed in ecstasy, relishing how the pain bloomed across your body.

“My sharp-tongued little assistant… Who’d have guessed you were this fun to ruin? I imagined every day how you’d look strung out on my cock, but,” he chuckled darkly, “I never expected you’d be this good, never knew you were such a sweet cunt.” You whined, a long, needy sound, and his smile widened.

“Oh, you like when I call you a fucking cunt, no? You want me to fuck you like the pretty thing you are—fuck, such a fucking pretty thing.”

“Yes, God, you can call me whatever you want, Max— oh!” You yelped as he left a harsh bite on the meat between your shoulder and your neck.

“Anything, hmm?” He grinned, half teasing, half furious with lust. “How about a fucking tease?” He thrusted even harder, both pushing his hips up and pulling you down simultaneously. “How about a filthy little tart that got what was coming to them?”

His voice changed into something just short of fanatical and you knew he’d let his suave demeanor go completely, giving way to raw, unadulterated savagery. His movements became more frantic, more wild, all his pent-up stress culminating in a perfect rage.

He slapped you again, this time across the face, hungry for the pleasured (slutty, he hissed) gasp it pulled from you. He leaned in, crooning mocking taunts into your ear.

“Gotta get your face nice and flushed for the camera, sweet girl,” he laughed; a deranged, maniacal sound.“Oh, Sweetheart… it’s my world now.”

You nodded feverishly, shuddering at the raw violence he exuded.

“And you like it, don’t you? Sitting in the lap of a soon-to-be god?” You swore that the brutality of his thrusts were cracking your mind open; you couldn’t think over his magnetic influence until all you could hear were his words, his praise, his power. “You’re mine, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Max, yes—”

“The things we’ll do, sweet baby, the things I’ll do to you.” His muscles were shaking, as were yours. He pulled you closer and hugged you to his chest, holding you still as he fucked into you at a bruising pace. You clutched him back, your nails clawing into the flesh of his shoulder desperately.

He was radiant, in a dark, depraved way, shining with triumph, victory, and desperation as he fucked into you, grinning insanely.

As you both neared the end, his feral, cocky leer began to tremble; his moans became sporadic, slipping, against his will, into soft whines before his dark growls defiantly returned to take their last stand.

“Y-you’re mine, dammit.” His domineering words, you realized, were still needy, hiding the fear only you could see. That wouldn’t do. You kissed him with a soft always, soothing his two incarnations with one word. Your Maxwell Lorenzano and your Max Lord; weak in your hands yet still glorious in your eyes; the perfect man and the perfect monster.

You embraced, there: clinging to each other at the event horizon, intertwining your fingers as the world swam, gasping out your final words before the universe exploded.

His voice broke so beautifully in your ear.

“You did this, my beautiful. You are this. All my power, all my want—”

“Oh, Max—”

“I’ll give us everything, mi amor, let me make you mine, my— my wife—”

“Yes! Yes, Max, always yes—”

“My love, you—”

“I love you—”

“I love you.”

——————

As you lay cuddled into his chest, trying to catch your breath, you noticed him stealing glances at you and grinning the rest of the flight.

Later on, you realized you did, too.

And for the life of you, neither of you could come up with a single wish more.

Both of you laugh and your suspicions that Marcus told her to hang out in the kitchen for a moment when Frankie got home are confirmed when he pops up to tell her it’s her turn to set the table. She pouts, but you volunteer to help her and Marcus winks at you as you switch places. You watch for a brief moment as Marcus leans in close to Frankie and seems to ask him a question. Frankie nods and lets Marcus lead him down the hallway toward your bedroom.

Just as you and Missy are setting the pasta her dad had whipped up on the table, both men re-emerge holding hands and you notice Marcus has coaxed Frankie into changing clothes. He always insists on getting into comfy clothes as soon as he gets home; he says it resets your anxious thoughts and lets you relax. Frankie took some convincing, but you and Marcus got him some nice sweats and cushy socks and now he’s a devotee.

“Can we finally eat?” Missy asks, nearly whining. You can tell Marcus is about to remind her to be patient when Frankie swoops in and tells her he bought the ice cream she likes for dessert. She immediately runs over and hugs Frankie in thanks before settling in her seat and you laugh. You expect Marcus to roll his eyes at Frankie’s over-indulgence of his daughter, but he only smiles fondly at his boyfriend before taking a seat.

Missy regales all three of you with stories of her week at school while you eat and you’re glad it gives Frankie some more time to come back to himself. She knows as much as her dad thinks she can handle about Frankie’s struggle with sobriety. Marcus doesn’t believe in keeping secrets from his kid, but he also doesn’t want his twelve-year-old to know the details of drug abuse. So she knows that when Frankie has therapy he’s extra tired, and she’s more than happy to tell him stories and make him laugh.

Not long after dinner is finished, Marcus sends Missy upstairs to shower and get ready for bed and she goes with a small amount of protest. Once she’s upstairs, you start on the dishes and watch as Frankie slips outside and stands looking over the pool, arms folded. You almost go out and join him, but Marcus beats you to it, coming to stand next to Frankie and you wish you could hear what they were saying.

But you know dishes have to get done, so you dutifully finish the kitchen duties so it won’t be a mess in the morning and just as you’re wiping down the counters, Frankie and Marcus come back in.

“Baby,” Marcus says, looking around, “did you clean up the kitchen already?”

“Yeah,” you shrug, placing the soap and rinsed sponge back in their places, “no biggie.”

“We don’t deserve you,” Frankie proclaims, coming over to you and planting a kiss on your lips. You giggle and Marcus wraps his arms around you from behind, he must’ve snuck up on you while Frankie had you distracted.

“No more cleaning,” he declares, kissing your cheek, “let’s go relax.” Neither you nor Frankie argues with that and all three of you get situated on the sofa together.

When you and Frankie had moved in with Marcus and Missy, Marcus went on a furniture-buying binge. He got the biggest sectional he could find for the living room as well as a California King bed for the three of you to sleep in. He also bought several huge, furry blankets that were big enough for at least three people to get under. You tried to tell him he didn’t need to do all that, but he waved you off, too excited to care about the money it cost.

Now, you’re glad that he did. Marcus plops down in the corner seat and stretches his legs out on the ottoman so you and Frankie get comfy on either side of him. You curl one leg under you and prop the other on the ottoman, leaning your head on Marcus’ shoulder. Frankie lays on his back and rests his head on Marcus’ stomach. And once Marcus picks a show to watch, you reach out and tap Frankie’s shoulder. He looks back at you and you extend your hand in invitation. Frankie chuckles and laces his fingers with yours, giving your hand a little squeeze before he turns his attention back to the tv.

With Marcus’ arm around you and Frankie’s fingers between yours, you feel like you can finally let the anxieties of the day dissolve. Both you and Marcus had been worried Frankie might come home and tell you he quit therapy. After his last session, he was so torn up Marcus had to go pick him up and let you drive Frankie’s truck home. You hadn’t even really gotten to talk to him until hours later when he and Marcus returned. Thankfully, Marcus’ mom had Missy that night already because you just paced and cried and worried. You knew Marcus wouldn’t let anything bad happen, but you couldn’t help it.

It had been years since Frankie had relapsed, but he’d been close a few times. He was close that night, you knew without him telling you. From what you pieced together, his therapist had asked him about his friend who had died in front of him on his last “mission” and Frankie had become so inconsolable he wasn’t able to function for the rest of the night. He cried, sure, but Frankie mostly went stoic, stone-faced, and eerily silent when this happened. It scared you, frankly.

Once, at the early stage of your relationship with him, Frankie had an episode like that and disappeared for almost two full days without a word. You’d been so sick with worry that you’d nearly called the police, but, considering his history, didn’t want them to show up if he was relapsing.

He came back at the end of the second day, incredibly apologetic, and he promised then to call you if it ever got that bad again. To let you at least keep him safe physically.

And he kept his promise, calling you when he’d been triggered by his therapy session and staying put until you and Marcus could get there and help him. You agreed that Marcus should take him to calm down, and then regretted it when you were once again left home alone to wait. When they got back a few hours later, you were waiting outside for them and you nearly had a breakdown when you saw them pull into the driveway. Frankie had to explain what happened last time and he and Marcus held you all night that night, promising over and over they weren’t going anywhere. Not for more than a few hours, at least.

You were grateful that this session had seemed to go better, and that you were laying on your couch together rather than pacing. Marcus leaned his head on yours and you felt yourself smiling a little. You wondered who would break the silence first, and you weren’t surprised it was Marcus.

“Do you wanna talk about therapy, honey?” he asked, ruffling Frankie’s hair affectionately. Frankie didn’t say anything for a beat, but he did take a deep breath and sit up to face both of you.

“I do, yeah,” he said quietly, looking between the both of you, “and what I’m gonna say might make you sad. Is that okay?”

Frankie looked directly at you when he asked and you felt a little ashamed for crying so much last time even though he assured you he understood. You nodded and Marcus slid his hand over to grip your knee and help ground you.

“I told her today that I don’t feel like I deserve the life I have,” he started shrugging his shoulders, “I love both of you and Missy so much, but I feel like I shouldn’t be allowed to get the love back.”

You nodded again and Marcus gestured for Frankie to continue.

“She asked me why and I told her that I have buddies who never made it home. Their kids don’t have dads. Their wives don’t have husbands. But I have a girlfriend and a boyfriend and a kid to go home to. It doesn’t seem right to have so much when their families don’t have it.”

Frankie swallowed hard, you watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he smoothed his hands down his pants. Again, Marcus piped up first.

“And what did your therapist say to that?” he asked, releasing your knee to lean back and drape his arm around your shoulders. You were grateful for it and that Frankie was opening up a little.

“She said it’s not fair to think of it like that. I’m not helping their families by being miserable. And she pointed out that I already helped Tom’s family by giving them my share of the money,” he sighed and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, “and she suggested I start keeping a gratitude journal. And tell you guys that I love you more.”

You couldn’t help tearing up a little when he said that, but Frankie didn’t notice yet.

“It was hard to admit all that, but I do feel better. Lighter than I have in a long time,” Frankie finished and then looked up at you and Marcus. He frowned slightly when he saw that you were holding back tears.

“Are you okay?” he asked, seemingly worried he’d said too much.

“Yeah,” you promised, wiping at your eyes, “I’m just so proud of you, Frankie. I love you so much.”

Marcus squeezed your shoulders and told Frankie,

“That took a lot of guts to share. I’m proud of you too.”

Frankie finally cracked a small smile and your treacherous eyes let more tears spillover.

“Come here,” he said softly, reaching his hand toward you and you practically leaped onto his arms and hugged him as tight as you could. Frankie rubbed your back and moved you slightly when Marcus slid over to join in on the embrace. For a few moments, he just held both of you against him and felt so much affection for you and Marcus that he nearly started crying too.

The three of you stayed cuddled up together until Marcus declared it was time for bed. You sat up and kissed Frankie on the cheek and then Marcus before breaking away to head upstairs.

Your night routine took longer than theirs, so you went to the bathroom to get started while they turned off lights and locked doors. Marcus had a pretty advanced Heroics security system that always made you feel safe when you heard its telltale beeps.

You exited the bathroom and they took your place, so you climbed in first so you could be in the middle. Marcus shook his head at you when he emerged from the bathroom, but he rounded the bed and came to lay beside you regardless. You immediately tucked yourself into his arms and sighed contentedly when you felt Frankie’s weight dip the bed down and he spooned himself behind you.

Gently, you pulled Marcus’ head toward you and kissed him goodnight before turning your head to do the same to Frankie. You watched with a full heart as Marcus pulled Frankie practically on top of you so he could kiss him too, and you laughed when they both tried to kiss you again at the same time.

“I love you, Marcus,” you said, squeezing him once he was back in your arms.

“Oh honey, I love you too,” he promised, kissing the top of your head before reaching his arm across you to rub Frankie’s arm, “and I love you too.”

“I love both of you,” Frankie promised around a yawn and you said it back before drifting off to sleep, warm and cozy with your two boys beside you.

…

Sleep came easy for you that night, but not for Frankie. He’d hoped that after the emotional upheaval that a session always brought, he’d be tired enough to sleep through the night. But at 2:45 am he was proven wrong as he rolled away from you to check the clock, hoping he’d at least managed to sleep until 5:00. Discouraged, he decided to get up and take a lap around the house; sometimes moving around was enough to send him back to sleep.

Frankie slid out of bed carefully so as not to wake you or Marcus and he took a moment to admire your calm, even breathing. At least you two could be well-rested. He padded down to the kitchen after stopping to peek into Missy’s room and seeing her just as asleep as you and Marcus. He checked the doors before quietly disarming the security system. It was a warm night, so he figured he’d get something to drink and sit outside for a while to clear his head.

He grabbed a beer from the fridge and sat on a lounge chair, trying to will himself to calm down enough that he could go back to bed. His mind had started racing the moment he was conscious, and it didn’t seem to want to slow down even now. A lot of times, he went for a drive to clear his head. But that would be too loud, he figured, plus he needed to come up with coping strategies that he could do at home.

Looking around at the backyard it dawned on him: he could get in the hot tub. He didn’t have trunks, but who would see him at this hour? Plus the warm water would be relaxing and his muscles were always a little stiff. It didn’t take long for the water to heat up and Frankie climbed in, sighing a little when his tired body made contact with the bubbling, steaming water. He closed his eyes and took some deep breaths.

This is nice, he thought, and I’m not waking anyone up.

But no sooner had he thought that than he heard the door to the house slide open and a shirtless Marcus walked out. He was only wearing boxers and Frankie took a moment to appreciate his toned arms and legs from his superhero training. Marcus came up beside the hot tub and asked,

“Couldn’t sleep?”

Frankie shrugged and said, “Yeah. But you don’t have to check on me. I’m doing fine.”

“I can see that,” Marcus chuckled, sitting on the edge so he could hear Frankie better, “are you sure you’re okay?”

Frankie closed his eyes again and took another breath. He didn’t open them before he responded,

“I’m not but it’s not a fixable thing. You know that.”

“That’s fair,” Marcus responded, still watching Frankie, “but if there was something I could fix you’d tell me right?”

Frankie smiled at his boyfriend; a genuine, real smile that made Marcus feel those warm fuzzies he’d gotten the first time he’d gone out with you and Frankie.

“Of course,” he promised before sinking further into the water so only his neck and head were above.

“Are you naked?” Marcus asked after a moment, and Frankie opened his eyes to see Marcus’s big eyes widen beneath his glasses.

“Yep,” Frankie responded simply, letting his answer hang in the air.

He and Marcus stared at each other for a brief moment, and the flash of mischief in Marcus’s eyes made Frankie shiver despite how warm his body was at the moment.

Slowly, Marcus hopped off the edge of the hot tub and stepped out of his briefs before joining Frankie in the water. His glasses fogged up immediately and he decided to remove those too, remarking to Frankie,

“You’ll have to help me out when we’re done.”

Frankie helped guide Marcus to straddle his lap, wrapping his arms around his back and hauling him close before he promised,

“I will.”

And just like that, Marcus’ lips crashed into his and he was making out with his boyfriend in a hot tub at three in the morning. Not something Frankie ever imagined himself doing even after he came out as bisexual, but happy to adapt to this new experience. They kissed and kissed and kissed until Frankie’s mind was pleasantly blank, only focused on the feeling of Marcus’ tongue in his mouth and how fucking hard he was. He tried to wriggle his hips to get a little friction but Marcus stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“Let me,” he said gruffly, so turned on himself that he felt delirious. He slid off of Frankie’s lap and settled next to him, pressed shoulder-to-shoulder, and snaked his hand down to Frankie’s thigh, feeling the other man shudder when Marcus’s hand got close to his aching cock.

“Please,” Frankie bit out, looking at Marcus with pleading eyes. Marcus turned Frankie’s head so their lips could meet again, and he sucked on Frankie’s tongue just as he took his length in hand and pumped a few times, eliciting a guttural moan from Frankie. Only Marcus could hear his noises as he stroked him, though, taking care to keep Frankie’s head close to his with his free hand.

They panted into each other’s mouths as Marcus felt Frankie’s hips start to jolt again. He knew Frankie was close when he started to fuck Marcus’ fist almost unconsciously like it felt so good he couldn’t help himself. He kissed Frankie’s open mouth and whispered,

“Come for me, Frankie, come all over my hand, baby.”

The term of endearment pushed Frankie over the edge and he gasped as he spilled his load all over Marcus’s hand under the water. He laid his head on Marcus’s shoulder to catch his breath and felt his spent dick twitch when Marcus licked what was left on his hand clean right in front of him.

With what mental faculties he had left after cumming so hard, Frankie gripped Marcus’s length and squeezed, rolling his thumb over the tip like he knew Marcus liked.

“Fuck!” Marcus exclaimed before he could help himself and Frankie chuckled.

“You don’t have to,” Marcus gasped, letting his head fall back. He was painfully hard and so close since making Frankie cum.

“I want to,” Frankie mumbled, never slowing his stroking,  “plus it’s no fun if it’s just me.”

Marcus relented at that and let Frankie work him over, eventually slumping down enough to lay his head against Frankie’s. The ragged sounds of Marcus’s breathing were the only sound Frankie could hear and he focused on making him feel as good as Marcus made him feel all the time. When he felt Marcus was about to cum, he stopped abruptly and instructed Marcus to sit on the edge of the hot tub.

Marcus obeyed and opened his mouth to ask why, but Frankie answered by swallowing Marcus down to the root and holding him there. With a muffled shout, Marcus spilled into Frankie’s mouth and he moaned when he felt Frankie swallow around him to get every drop.

Marcus leaned back on his hands and Frankie pulled off of him to catch his breath. He hopped up to sit beside Marcus and was immediately pulled into an embrace, which he gladly returned.

“You ready to go back to bed?” Marcus asked after he’d had a few minutes to hold Frankie and slow his heart rate down. Frankie nodded and handed Marcus his glasses before standing up and offering a hand to pull Marcus up too. They slipped inside quietly and Marcus noticed it was nearly four in the morning now.

He climbed into bed after Frankie and wrapped himself around his back, smiling against his shoulder when he felt Frankie’s body sag into the mattress. Just before he succumbed to sleep, he reached his arm across the bed and stroked your side, just to feel connected to both his lovers before his eyes shut and he drifted off.

…

The next morning, you were surprised to wake up and find both Marcus and Frankie still in bed. Normally Marcus was up first, but you were grateful for the quiet as you hopped in the shower to start your day.

After you stepped out with your towel wrapped around you, you saw Frankie was the only one left asleep. There was a faint noise downstairs and you knew Marcus was likely watching the news while he got breakfast ready for the house. You had the day off, so you got dressed in casual clothes and decided to wake Frankie—positive he wouldn’t want to miss food.

“Hey, Frankie,” you whispered, rubbing his back until he stirred. He mumbled something and flipped toward you, rubbing his face along your leg. You chuckled and scratched your fingers through his bed head.

“Marcus is making eggs and bacon,” you told him and one of Frankie’s eyes peeked open to look at you.

“I’ll be down in a minute,” he promised around a yawn and you nodded before turning around to head downstairs. Frankie said your name softly and you turned back toward him. He waved you over to the bed and tilted his face up for a kiss, which you readily gave.

“Well good morning to you too, handsome,” you told him, grinning at him. You gave him one more quick peck on the lips before you headed out of the bedroom, unaware Frankie was watching you the whole time.

You stopped by Missy’s room on the way to the stairs and asked her if she needed any help getting ready. She declined and you reminded her to make her bed as you descended the stairs, greeted by the aroma of fresh bacon.

Marcus was bent over the stove, stirring up scrambled eggs with a plate of bacon cooling beside him. His brow was furrowed in concentration, and you admired the way he focused so hard even on this mundane task of cooking.

“You sure you have to go be a hero today?” You asked, causing Marcus to startle a little and fumble his spatula. He caught it and chuckled at you.

“Yeah, pretty sure,” he responded, turning off the burner and setting the pan to the side so the eggs could finish off the heat. He turned toward you and took the plates you handed him. You pulled out orange juice, creamer for your coffee, and bread for toast. After you put some slices in the toaster and Marcus had plated up the rest of the food, you held your arms out and Marcus swept you up in a hug.

“You sleep okay?” he asked into your hair, squeezing you tight.

“Like a baby,” you assured him, closing your eyes and inhaling his scent just for a second. He rubbed your back and swayed your hug a little, hanging on a bit longer than normal. You admired Marcus’ innate ability to know when you needed a little extra love. You rarely even had to ask, he’d just seem to know when to call on your lunch break, or grab your hand, or give you extra affection like he was doing now. Frankie teased him that it was his second superpower and you agreed.

“You gonna be okay here today by yourself?” he asked, kissing the side of your head.

“Yeah,” you promise, “I’ll be fine. But I wouldn’t mind doing this all day.”

Marcus’ laugh fills you with warmth and you tighten your grip on him.

“Me either,” he agreed, finally pulling back to give you a good-morning kiss just as Missy walked into the kitchen.

“It never ends,” she grumbled, taking her plate to the table before pouring herself a glass of juice. Marcus let you go and grabbed his food, stopping to kiss his daughter on the cheek as he passed, earning a squeak of laughter from her as she tried (and failed) to avoid him.

Frankie strolled in just as the three of you were sitting down and grabbed his plate, yawning loudly as he sat down. He gives you a grateful look when you hand him the cup of black coffee you already poured for him and you smile when Marcus leans over and kisses Frankie on the cheek while he eats.

The scene is so domestic and happy that you wish everyone could stay home and have a family day today, but, unfortunately, everyone’s up and going far too soon. Marcus shoos Missy out to the car and turns around to give you a goodbye kiss since Frankie is looking for his work boots.

“I’ll miss you on the way to work,” he said, holding your face in his big hands. (Marcus usually drops Missy off at school and you off at work before heading into Heroics headquarters.)

“I’ll miss you too,” you told him genuinely and he gives you one more lingering kiss before he releases you. He yells goodbye at Frankie and you hear Frankie yell back from wherever he’s at in the house.

Once Marcus and Missy are gone, you decide to go find Frankie. You can hear him rifling through something and cursing under his breath, so you turn down the hallway and stop short when you realize he’s in the laundry room.

“Everything okay?” you ask, and Frankie sighs.

“I found my boots, just having trouble finding the other sock,” he holds up one and you nod, grabbing a basket to look through while he goes through the dryer. It doesn’t take you long to find it and Frankie thanks you, plopping down and putting them on.

“Can I ask you something?” you said, fiddling with your sleeve and not exactly looking at Frankie.

“Sure,” he responded, still lacing up his boots, “I got a little time before I need to leave.”

“Are you,” you started, feeling nervous even though you’ve had much more intense conversations with Frankie over the four years you’ve been together, “are you afraid to tell me things because I cry so much? Like your therapy stuff, I mean.”

He considers your words for a moment, smoothing his hands down his denim-covered thighs and getting up to his feet. He leans against the washing machine before he answers,

“I don’t like to make you upset. I hate seeing you cry, especially because of me.”

You knew he would say something like that but it still stung a little.

“I’m not trying to have such an emotional reaction,” you promised, feeling shame stir in your gut, “but I really can’t help it.”

“I know that,” he’s quick to assure you. You’re fighting off tears now and you feel the same guilt rising back up.

“I just,” you choke out, trying so hard not to cry, “I don’t want you to not tell me things because you’re worried I’ll cry. That’s all.”

There’s a moment of silence between you and your hands start to shake with the effort of holding yourself together. Frankie says your name softly and you look up to see a kind, soft expression on his face. He holds his hands out to you and you take them.

“Baby you are shaking,” he says with surprise, ducking his head down to look in your eyes, “are you nervous to talk to me?”

You shrug and swallow hard.

“Kind of,” you admit, feeling stupid, “I just got worried that maybe I was doing something to make you want to keep your distance.”

He scoffs and squeezes your hands in his, “Absolutely not. You didn’t. I promise, okay?”

You nod because you’re afraid if you talk, you’ll let the tears loose that you’ve been holding back so desperately. Frankie pulls you into his chest and wraps his arms around you tight.

“Baby,” he says again, “let it out. It’s okay.”

You shake your head against him and say,

“You have w-work, I can’t make you late.” But you’re already starting to give in.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says softly, holding you closer, “I have time for you.”

Frankie lets you cry into his shoulder until your tears dry up, then he pulls back and kisses you.

“I love you,” he reminds you, making sure you’re looking in his eyes, “so fucking much.”

You chuckle and reply, “I love you too. Sorry about your shirt.”

He promises it’s fine before giving you one more quick kiss and heading out to work. You go out on the porch and watch until he’s out of sight.

Just as you’re walking inside, your phone chimes and it’s a picture from Marcus. You open it and it’s a selfie…at least you think it is. He’s barely in the frame, but he’s frowning and pointing to the passenger seat of his car. The message reads: Miss you! :(

You smile and reply: Come back! I miss you!

Marcus sends a lol in response and you know that’s all he’s going to say for now. You decide to take your journal and sit outside. It’s gonna be hot today, but it’s not even nine in the morning, so you hope to have an hour or two before it gets unbearable.

For the better part of half an hour, you try and fail to write an entry. Nothing sounds natural and when you feel yourself getting frustrated, you set the journal aside and go back in to get another cup of coffee.

The pot is still warm, but you already put the mug from earlier in the dishwasher so you peruse the hanging display in the kitchen for another. Your heart melts a little when you spot the pink mug on the bottom row. Taking a second, you read over the engraving, it has all three of your initials with plus signs between, a simple tribute to your non-traditional relationship. Marcus and Frankie bought it for you right after the three of you had decided to make it official and move in together.

Just holding it makes you feel lighter, so you load it up with coffee and creamer just how you like it before going back outside with a new idea—writing down the story of how the three of you met and fell in love.

…

“And this is the Heroics head office,” you heard the intern say, escorting you all the way to the first door and knocking, “Mr. Moreno is in here, and if you need anything from me, my desk is across the hall.” They point to a small desk in an alcove and wave goodbye. You take a deep breath, hoping he’s as nice as he seems from the tv interviews you’d watched prior to pitching your article. It’s going to be a long-form piece focused on the leader of the heroics, Marcus Moreno.

You’d heard from a few colleagues that he usually turned down interview requests and only gave snippets to reporters, making many people think he was stuck-up or secretive. You, however, had a hunch that he wasn’t either of those things. You and your boyfriend had been fans of Marcus’ for a long time, you remembered Frankie gushing to you excitedly on your second date about how he’d witnessed Marcus in action firsthand, from the safety of a nearby building. It had been one of the first things that bonded the two of you. Both of you loved that he was a single dad and liked to swoon over him when he was on tv.

“Hi,” his voice interrupted your thoughts and extended his hand toward you, “please come in, have a seat.”

The interview went better than you could’ve hoped. Marcus was charming, thoughtful, and seemed to genuinely be enjoying himself while you asked questions. Once you’d reached the end of your questions, you were reluctant to stop your conversation, and Marcus appeared to feel the same way. He offered you some coffee, which you accepted, and he started to ask you about your life.

As you talked, Frankie came up pretty quickly and you took notice of the flicker of disappointment that showed across Marcus’ face. You were right...he was into you. But he didn’t stop you once he learned you weren’t single, he volunteered that he’d been on a few dates recently and none of them had panned out.

“I went out with Melanie from legal here a few times, but she’s too busy for me. I know that sounds bad, but I already have so much going on with Heroics and Missy and all she wanted to do was go out all the time. If I have free time I like to spend it with my family,” he explained and you tried your best not to faint on the spot. He was pretty much perfect and you were itching to text Frankie and tell him your thoughts when he dropped another piece of information so casually you knew it had to be on purpose.

“And then there was Nate,” Marcus sighed, rubbing his temples, “He’s a single dad too from my daughter’s school. But we just didn’t mesh well, you know? Too different I guess,” he chuckled and pushed his glasses up his nose.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that a widower who happens to be a superhero and also has a kid isn’t exactly most people’s idea of a perfect man,” he shrugged and offered you more coffee, which you declined. He looked at his computer and back up at you with raised eyebrows.

“It’s almost five, I should let you go. I’m sure you’ve got things to do tonight and I’m taking up your time,” he said apologetically, “but I hope you got what you need for your article, ma’am. I…” he trailed off for a second, then seemed to find his courage, “I liked talking to you. More than any other writer I’ve spoken to.”

You bit your lip and mentally reminded yourself to calm down before you responded,

“I liked talking to you too.”

Marcus’ face lit up with a sheepish grin and you smiled widely back at him.

“Most of the people I interview don’t take time to, you know, talk to me. I appreciate that you look at me like I’m a person and not a thing to check off your list.”

The two of you locked eyes and you felt a jolt of electricity down your spine. Before you could stop yourself you were asking,

“I’m supposed to meet my boyfriend for drinks soon. Wanna come?”

…

And that was how you and Marcus and Frankie ended up getting together for the first time. And drinks turned into dinner at a local pizza joint. And pizza turned into a walk through the park. And the walk through the park ended with exchanging numbers and a plan to meet up again this weekend while Marcus’ daughter was away with friends for the night.

“So what do you think?” you asked Frankie later that night. He was in the shower and you were doing your skincare routine at the sink.

“About what?” he asked back, and you listened for a second to make sure he was done rinsing his hair before you clarified,

“Marcus fucking Moreno of course!”

“What about him?” Frankie asked in a tone that you knew meant he understood but wanted you to say it first.

“We should date him,” you said, hoping not to sound overly enthusiastic in case you were reading the situation wrong, “I mean, we’ve talked about it before. Adding another person? And I think he’s perfect for both of us and he flirted with both of us, you especially, and we love kids and he only has one and--”

You were stopped in your rambling when Frankie peeked his head around the shower curtain and said your name. You looked over to find him smiling fondly at you and you shrugged, gesturing to him.

“I want that too,” he declared before shutting the water off and stepping out. He took the towel you offered and dried himself off while he kept talking,

“I was always worried we’d find someone that one of us was into and not the other or that they would only want one of us and tolerate the other. But I think you’re right. He wants us.”

You squealed and wrapped your arms around Frankie, giving him a quick kiss before you settled into his embrace. He didn’t speak again for a minute and neither did you, just breathing together for a moment while the steam from the shower evaporated.

“So you want to try this?” you asked tentatively even though he’d already said yes, “with me?”

“You’re the only one I’d want to try this with,” Frankie promised you, gripping you tight, “I think we’re ready.” You nodded against his shoulder and said with an air of mischief,

“Then let’s seduce a superhero.”

…

As it turned out, Marcus was not all that hard to seduce. Both you and Frankie had long conversations about how to ask him to date you both and talked each other up before the day arrived.

You’d been hanging out regularly for a few months, spending nearly every weekend together when Marcus wasn’t off being a hero. Marcus had hugged both of you goodbye the first time he met you, but lately, the touches seemed to linger. His hand is on your back as he leads you to your table at dinner. His hand was on Frankie’s arm when he leaned over to grab something. The way he jokingly offered you his arm when it was raining one day and then blushed redder than you’d ever seen when you took it immediately.

Finally, everything came to a head when you were watching a movie at your and Frankie’s apartment late one Saturday while Missy’s grandmother stayed with her. You were seated between them on the sofa with your head on Frankie’s shoulder and decided to test the waters by pretending to stretch and putting your feet in Marcus’ lap. He looked surprised, but didn’t ask you to move; just rested his big, warm hand on your bare ankles and rubbed your skin occasionally with his thumb.

The tension in the room was palpable and when the movie ended, you turned your head and gave Frankie the look and he nodded at you in understanding. He stood up and muted the screen before he started,

“Marcus, umm, we wanted to ask you a question. It’s fine if you say no, but we’ve both been feeling the same way and it’s probably better if we just tell you, you know?” Frankie rubbed the back of his neck nervously and before you could say anything, Marcus blurted out,

“Yes!”

Both you and Frankie turned to look at him simultaneously and he looked eager, excited.

“If you were going to ask if I would fuck both of you the answer is yes,” he explained quickly, looking not at all embarrassed, “I was hoping you’d ask before I had to.”

You huffed a laugh in amusement and Frankie looked bewildered so you clarified for him,

“We do want that, however,” you watched carefully as Marcus’ confidence faltered ever so slightly, “we were going to ask if you wanted to date us. Like both of us. Which would, hopefully, also include sex too! But we didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

A moment of quiet passed between the three of you and Marcus looked confused when he asked,

“Date you? Like…” he paused to consider his words, “you want to be with me?”

“We do,” you assured him and Frankie agreed,

“We both think you’re hot, but we also want you around all the time. And Missy too, we want to be around her. We want you,” he reached out and took Marcus’ hand tentatively, “to be a part of this,” he grabbed one of your hands with his free one and gave you both a squeeze.

To your surprise, Marcus’ big, brown eyes filled up with tears.

“Oh, Marcus,” you said, reaching for his other hand, “I’m sorry is this too much? Too soon?”

“No,” he shook his head and brought your joined hands up to wipe at his eyes, “no it’s not that. After my wife…” he trailed off and you and Frankie looked at each other in concern, “I was pretty sure I wouldn’t find anyone. No one wants to take on a superhero, widower, single dad. And I was fine with that. Or I thought I was until I met you guys.”

He sniffled and you felt your own eyes watering too.

“We want all of you, Marcus,” you said softly, tugging his hand to pull him closer, “if you’ll have us.”

“Yeah,” Frankie agreed, “we thought we were weird for wanting a third person in this, but then you came along and you’re everything we wanted. So what do you say?”

Marcus released both of your hands to rub his eyes before he leaned his elbows on his knees and looked up at Frankie, then over to you. You could tell he was thinking hard and you didn’t want to interrupt him.

“I want this,” he said finally, “I want to date both of you. To be loved by both of you.”

He seemed to catch himself on his last word, but you swooped in before he could second-guess himself,

“Marcus Moreno,” you said seriously, reaching over to pull Frankie into your side, “would you be our boyfriend? Officially?”

“Yes,” he said, shaking his head at you, “officially.”

You couldn’t help your squeal of delight and you leaned over to hug him, happy when his arms hugged you back even tighter. When you pulled back, you looked to Marcus for confirmation before you tilted your head up and pressed your lips to his. You felt your stomach flutter when you tasted his plush lips and swallowed his whimper when he opened his mouth slightly and you slid your tongue into his mouth. You could’ve gone on kissing like that except Frankie cleared his throat behind you and you both turned to look at him.

Frankie didn’t speak, just crooked his finger at Marcus and he released you so he could taste Frankie in the same way you’d tasted him. You watched them make out for a few long minutes, butterflies of excitement stirring in your gut.

“Marcus,” you said eventually, causing both men to snap their attention to you, “you said something about wanting to fuck us both?”

Marcus looked at Frankie and they both lunged at you, peppering your face and neck with kisses while their hands roamed everywhere. You knew you were in for a long night. The kind of night that you hoped to repeat and repeat and repeat for years to come.

…

Writing down your story made you emotional, and you had to wipe away tears once you were done. Part of you, like Marcus, never believed you would get to have this. You thought you were weird for wanting more than one partner. Friends, family, nearly everyone you shared that piece of you with turned their nose up at you, suspected you were a cheater or a homewrecker or that you didn’t love Frankie if you wanted someone else too.

You also worried, even after you and Frankie had discovered both of you wanted a third person, that you wouldn’t be enough. That you and your flaws would be the reason a throuple didn’t work out. But with Marcus and Frankie? You never worried about that anymore. You felt at peace with both of them like you finally belonged somewhere. Partners in the past had told you you were “a lot” to handle, too much. But never once had Marcus or Frankie said those words to you, and you expected they never would. Even when the three of you got weird looks or invasive questions, you felt supported by your little family.

People who doubted your love didn’t get it. And that was their loss, you thought, that they didn’t get to see the ways the three of you cared for each other. How Marcus drove you to work and held your hand over the gear shift. How he picked Frankie up from his guys’ nights out with his buddies and made out with him in his car every single time. How Frankie always woke up with you when you had a bad dream or put his arm around Marcus when he’d had a long day and needed someone else to hold him up for a while. How you always soothed Marcus’ headaches with your fingers scratching his scalp or gave Frankie a shoulder massage when his old injuries acted up. Those people didn’t get to glimpse into your crazy beautiful life and see all the tenderness peppered into every single day.

Their loss, you decided as you walked around the house, doing a final sweep to straighten up before you set your plan in motion for when the boys got home.

…

When Marcus pulled into the garage, he took a long, deep breath and looked at himself in the rearview mirror. He frowned a little at the bags under his eyes. Maybe he would try that eye cream you kept out on the counter. He and Frankie were older than you, granted, but you didn’t seem to have the same exhaustion about you that he saw in himself.

Occasionally, he felt too tired to do anything much when he got home and it always made him feel a little guilty. So he usually pushed through and put on a smile—especially when it had been just him and his daughter at home. But now that he had you and Frankie, he found himself more energized than ever.

Getting laid constantly probably helps, his brain reminded him and he had to laugh at himself. He’d been truthful when he told you on that day you interviewed him that he’d gone out with a few people. What he didn’t mention at the time is that he’d only slept with one of them. It felt strange after his marriage to just fuck someone and move on. And the one time he had left him feeling rotten after. He knew those were mostly his hang-ups, so thankfully he’d gone back to therapy right before meeting you and Frankie to work through some of his issues.

And now? He had no hang-ups about pulling you into the shower with him before anyone else was up. Or having sex with Frankie in the hot tub in the middle of the night. He decided to shoot Frankie a quick message before he went inside to let him know he was thinking about him.

Been thinking about you today. And the hot tub 😉

He was surprised that Frankie texted him back immediately, it must've been a slow day at work.

Frankie: kinda can’t believe we did that lol miss you babe

Marcus smiled and texted back that he missed Frankie too before he climbed out of his car and realized he could hear music coming from inside the house. He opened the door and was greeted by a delicious smell; he hoped you were baking those cookies again.

He was quiet when he approached the kitchen and smiled as he watched you, bobbing your head to the song while you removed a batch from the oven and put another pan inside to cook. Marcus waited until you were no longer handling anything hot before he made his presence known.

“Hey beautiful,” he said softly, grinning when you whirled around to face him and gave him a big smile, “watcha making?”

You walked over to him and wrapped your arms around his neck before you answered,

“The chocolate chip cookies you like.”

“You remember what happened last time you made these?” He asked, bringing his hands up to hold your face tenderly. You shrugged and confessed,

“I was kind of hoping for a repeat.”

Marcus surprised you then by backing you into the counter and kissing you like it was the only thing he’d thought about all day. And it might have been, but you didn’t ask because that would mean you’d have to stop kissing him. And you didn’t want to.

He helped you sit up on the counter without breaking your kiss and you felt yourself growing wetter and wetter with every sweep of his tongue in your mouth. You were so caught up in him that you were startled when the kitchen timer went off, but Marcus instructed you to stay while he took the cookies out of the oven and turned it off. Before he came back, he snatched a warm cookie and moaned when he tasted it.

“These are even better than last time, honey,” he said in that raspy, deep tone and you nearly melted right into the floor. He came back and kissed you again once he stopped chewing and you sighed. You could’ve made out with him for the rest of the night but Marcus had other plans.

He slid his hand from your waist up to your shirt and you gasped when he rubbed over your nipple with his thumb.

“I wanna taste you,” he panted into your mouth and you nodded. That was the reason you’d made the cookies after all. You expected him to pull your pants off, but he turned and grabbed a chair instead.

“What are you doing?” you asked, brow furrowed, but no less turned on.

“Getting comfortable,” he replied, “I’m gonna be here for a while.”

“Marcus!” you exclaimed, feeling a delicious mixture of embarrassment and arousal flood your body. He just winked at you and helped you get out of your shorts and panties. He kissed his way up your thighs and you were squirming by the time he threw your legs over his shoulder and attached his mouth to your dripping cunt.

“Fuck,” you whined, running your fingers through his soft hair, “please, please.”

He only pulled off you for a second to say, “I got you, baby,” before diving back in and licking you like you were as sweet as the cookies you’d just made. Marcus would argue you were even sweeter.

The sounds you were making were louder than normal, but you knew no one would walk in. Missy was staying with her grandma and Frankie worked late today…or so you thought.

While Marcus was going down on you in the kitchen, Frankie pulled into the driveway. Work hadn’t been busy so he’d been able to leave earlier than expected. He was excited to see you both and hopefully get you two in bed with him as quickly as possible. It was all he’d thought about today.

And he wasn’t the only one, he realized as the sound of your moans hit his ears the moment he stepped into the house. He strolled into the kitchen and felt his stomach flutter with excitement when he saw you, propped up on the counter and Marcus’ face buried in your pussy. Neither of you had noticed him yet, so he snagged a cookie off the table and ate it while he watched.

Once he was done he licked his lips and said,

“Damn, baby, these are amazing.”

Frankie smirked when your eyes flew open and landed on him and Marcus pushed himself back, facial hair soaked with your arousal.

“I thought you were working late,” you said, clearly out of breath from Marcus’ attention.

“Nope,” Frankie said cooly despite the erection he could feel straining against his zipper, “Did she come yet?”

Marcus grinned at him and shook his head, so Frankie crossed the space and planted his lips firmly on yours, using one hand to hold your head still and the other to guide Marcus by the hair back to your cunt.

He must’ve sucked hard on your clit because Frankie felt you jolt in surprise and gasp into his mouth. He released Marcus so he could move your head to one side and began sucking a mark into your neck. Both men knew you were close when your legs started shaking where they were propped up on Marcus’s shoulder.

“Come on,” Frankie encouraged you sweetly, pressing his lips to your cheek, “you can do it. You’re such a good girl.”

His words sent you over the edge and your body locked up as you came with a long groan, Marcus still lapping up everything he could. You finally had to gently push Marcus away as you were getting overstimulated, and Frankie took the opportunity to yank Marcus up and kiss him so he could have a taste too.

You tried to catch your breath as you watched them make out next to you, but it only served to rile you up more. Finally, they parted, looking at each other for a second before they both turned to you.

“You want her first?” Marcus asked Frankie but never took his eyes off you.

“You don’t mind?” Frankie asked back and Marcus shook his head.

“No, if I go first it’s gonna be over too fast.”

Both men nodded and you had the presence of mind to ask,

“Can we go upstairs? The counter is killing me.”

Marcus laughed and Frankie helped you down, telling you to leave your pants in the kitchen. He took your hand and led you upstairs, only stopping once he was in your bedroom to strip down the rest of the way. You followed suit and Frankie kissed you again once you were both naked.

“Lay back,” he whispered when he pulled away and you obeyed immediately, sprawling out in the middle of your big bed. Frankie grabbed a pillow to prop your hips up just as Marcus entered the room.

“Fuck me,” he said, eyes wide under the glasses he’d put back on.

“We can do that later,” Frankie said, throwing Marcus a wink. Marcus grinned and placed the glass of water he’d brought upstairs on the nightstand before plopping down into the nearby armchair.

“Marcus,” you whined, reaching a hand toward him, “come here.”

He shook his head and both you and Frankie looked over at him.

“I want to watch,” he said before sliding his pants down just enough to get his cock out and stroke it.

You pouted briefly, but Frankie held you by your hips and began to enter you slowly and you forgot to pretend to be upset. Frankie was always slow at first, always giving you time to adjust to him. He and Marcus were both big, but Frankie was thicker and Marcus was longer and curved to one side.

Once he was fully inside, buried as deep as he could go, he looked at your face and couldn’t help leaning down to kiss you sloppily. Your tongues danced briefly, then you begged Frankie to move and he started a deep, slow pace so every time he pulled out you felt his absence. It only made you beg louder and clench around him harder.

“Please,” you choked out, wrapping your arms around Frankie’s shoulders to have something to hold onto, “harder, Frankie.”

“You sure?” he asked, face hovering inches above your own, “I want to hear it.”

“Yes!” you exclaimed, and Frankie didn’t need to be told twice. He only increased his pace slightly, but he was pounding into you with the force of his thrusts. If it wasn’t for Marcus sliding on the bed and holding you still, you probably would’ve smacked your head on the headboard.

“You’re doing so good,” Marcus cooed, repositioning you so your head was in his lap, “you take Frankie’s dick so well.”

“Fuck,” Frankie grunted out, drilling up into you roughly, “not gonna last long.”

“Feels so good,” you managed to tell him, knowing he liked to hear your praise, “so good, Frankie.”

He growled at your words, finally picking up his pace as he chased his end. You had to close your eyes, it was so intense, and you could feel Marcus fingers stroking your cheek softly, like he wasn’t watching Frankie fuck your brains out on his bed.

Suddenly, Frankie buried himself inside you and held there for a second, cumming with a shout of your name before collapsing carefully on top of you.

“Fuck,” you panted out, feeling a bit shaky, “that was amazing.”

“You’re amazing,” Frankie murmured, kissing your neck and shoulder a few times as he caught his breath.

Marcus lifted your shoulders up and carefully set you down, moving to stand up beside the bed. He said your name and you looked over to see him stroking himself, the head of his cock red and dripping with pre-cum.

“Can I fuck you now?” he asked and when you gave your consent, he told Frankie to flip you over.

“You sure?” Frankie asked while Marcus got into position on his knees behind you.

“I’m sure,” you said, “I want you both.”

Frankie nodded at Marcus and Marcus yanked your hips up off the bed so your ass was in the air and your face was pressed into the mattress.

“I don’t think I can go slow, honey,” Marcus warned you, palming your ass in his big hands and giving you a light smack, “that okay?”

“Yes,” you assured him, feeling exasperated, “I want you to fuck me, Marcus. I can take it.”

With your permission clear, Marcus slid his dick into your already-sensitive pussy, his way eased significantly by your slick and Frankie’s cum. He held onto your hips once he was inside, stroking your skin as he instructed Frankie,

“Rub her clit, I want her to come again.”

Then he started a fast, rough pace that nearly made you scream into his sheets. He felt so good and his dick always managed to reach that spot inside you that made you unravel quicker than anything else. Frankie’s fingers found your clit and started rubbing slowly, almost agonizingly slowly. You realized then that they were doing this on purpose, working in tandem to wreck you.

Not that you minded, or even had the mental capacity to form a thought while Marcus’ cock was stuffing you so full you could barely breathe. Frankie picked up the speed of his fingers and you clenched down hard on Marcus. You couldn’t even warn them before you came again, your cries muffled against the sheets.

Marcus never slowed, keeping up his pace, fucking you through your orgasm before he pulled out and watched as your legs collapse without him holding you up. He laid down fully on top of you and entered you again, running his hands down your arms to lace your fingers with his and hold you in place. His face was mashed up against yours and you could feel his breath fanning over your face.

“You close?” Frankie asked Marcus, watching the two of you fondly. Marcus nodded and Frankie laid down next to you, pressing his lips to yours briefly before Marcus yanked on his hair and kissed him hard. The sounds of their tongues tangling above you made you shudder and Marcus pumped into you a few more times before letting his head fall against your back and spilling deep inside you.

All of you laid still for a moment, Marcus buried inside you and Frankie propped up on his elbow beside you, watching you both come down. Your eyes were closed, both out of exhaustion and a tiny bit of overstimulation and reached his hand out and smoothed it over the top of your head.

“You okay, baby?” he asked, moving closer to kiss your forehead. You didn’t answer and you felt Marcus rub his face against your shoulder.

“Did we overdo it?” Marcus mumbled, still nuzzling you.

“No just give me a second,” you responded, “that was intense.”

You didn’t see Frankie and Marcus exchange a look but you felt Marcus push himself up and slide out of you slowly, shushing you when you whined a little. He rolled off the bed and you heard him go into the bathroom.

Frankie moved closer to you and rubbed his hand up and down your back in slow, smooth strokes. When Marcus returned, he brought a warm washcloth and cleaned you up carefully, taking time to wipe down your thighs as well so you wouldn’t be sticky.

You smiled at Frankie when Marcus’ touch left your body and he smiled back before he pulled you into his chest. You snuggled into him, starting to feel sleepy, and you sighed when you felt the bed dip slightly when Marcus came back and wrapped himself around your back. The blissful silence that followed was almost enough to make you drift off, but Frankie’s voice cut through your haze.

“You doing okay, sweetheart?”

Reluctantly, you moved your head back from the warmth of his chest so you could roll on your back and look at them both when you replied,

“Yes, I’m fine. You’re both amazing.”

Marcus chuckled and you could feel Frankie’s smile from where he’d laid his cheek on your arm.

“So can you stop worrying and let me take a nap? Please?” you looked over at Marcus while you spoke and he nodded. You bent your elbow to play with Frankie’s hair while Marcus settled his head on your chest and his arm around your waist. Soon enough you’d have to get up. Find something to eat. Carry on with your night. But right at this moment, you were all here together, content and satiated and comfortable.

“Love you,” you spoke out into the room, and both Marcus and Frankie knew you meant it for them both to hear.

“Love you too,” was Frankie’s reply and he kissed the skin of your shoulder after he said it.

“You two are the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time,” Marcus says sincerely, “I haven’t been so happy in…” he trails off, and you stroke his back while you think of how to respond.

“Me too,” you tell him so he won’t feel like he has to find words to express it. You know what he means and so does Frankie.

“manny, we can’t do that!”

the predicament you had found yourself in wasn’t one that you thought was possible, with your limited knowledge and ignorance about the vulgarity of sexual activities. after all, growing up shielded from healthy conversations about sex had left you in the dark about even the simplest of information about the act.

so when mando breaches the topic of anal, it’s safe to say that you’re horrified at the idea; putting what up where? why in hells would anyone do such a thing and how could it possible be pleasurable?!

“can you tell me why we can’t do that, sweet one?” mando knows exactly why you had looked at him like he’d grown four more heads, but he craved the act of humiliating you in every way possible, even now as he watches your eyeballs practically pop out of your sockets.

“that’s… that’s gross! what if… what if i—ew! no, no no!” unable to fathom the idea of it, you shake your head as if trying to physically rid the connotations of the act, missing the way mando’s shoulders shake with humour at your behaviour.

sensing your soon-overflowing panic, he moves quickly to plant his hands on your shoulder, delivering a firm squeeze to help bring you back down from the thoughts floating in your head.

“easy, sweet princess, it’s okay. i’m right here with you, and you do want to make me happy, right? and you know how much fun you have when we have these lessons,” by attacking your weakness of being eager to please him, he hopes that it’s enough to convince you without him having to take more… drastic actions.

“b-but i’m scared, manny…”

hidden from your viewing, eyes soften behind the beskar separating you from seeing your ‘lover’, a strike of compassion hitting the man before you at your confession. shushing you gently, beskar envelopes you as he holds you against him, rubbing small circles against your back in an attempt to help calm you and further push you towards doing what he wants you to.

“i know, cyar’ika, but like i said, i’ll be with you for it all. there’s nothing to be scared of when i’m with you, hm? can you try for me?” with a finger to your chin, he tilts your head until you’re staring into the abyss of his visor, his soft tone successful in convincing you.

“o-okay—for you, manny,”

since that short conversation, mando had left you to clean yourself up, talking you through what exactly you’d need to do to make sure that nightmare in your head wouldn’t come true. you’re grateful that he gave you some privacy for it, something that wasn’t a thing while in his company.

“i think i’m done, manny!” hopping out of the ‘fresher, you greet the armoured man with a grin, a sign that your nerves from earlier had died down a significant amount.

with his hand held out towards you, you skip over to where he sits on your cramped bunk, allowing him to manoeuvre you so he has you bent over his lap with your ass in the air.

“good girl, was that so bad?” he knows your answer before it leaves your mouth, bracing himself for the dramatics.

“it was awful, manny! but at least i feel cleaner now and i don’t think i’m that scared anymore?” turning your head slightly so you can partially peer up at his helmet, you send him a conflicted gaze as what sounds like one of his rare chuckles crackles through the filter of his helmet.

“i’m glad to hear that, mesh’la—like i said, there’s nothing to worry about when i’m with you.”

bare hands ghost the swells of your ass, the softness of his hands a welcome feeling—and one much needed to prepare you for what was to come.

unable to help the shiver rolling down your body, you shudder once you feel a thick finger slide down your slit, gathering your arousal before sliding it up to where his focus was on tonight.

your whole being tenses once the pad of his middle finger distributes the collected slick around the puckered muscle, circling it slowly in both clockwise and counterclockwise movements.

“just relax, precious girl; it’ll only feel good if you relax for me. think about how good it feels when i play with your little clit, like this,” a second hand comes down to your small nub, another pair of fingers circling that button that you loved oh so much.

“now, tell me how that feels,”

the sharp gasps and whines that fill the air of the room speak volumes for how good it feels, and mando can tell the difference from how your tense body had since turned into something akin to jelly.

“f-feels good, manny—so g-good…” the combination of both sensations has you unconsciously pushing back against him, suddenly feeling brave about the prospect of having that finger inside your virgin hole.

halting his motions prompts an upset whimper to slip past your lips as you attempt to look back at why he stopped, only to hear a ‘click!’ of what you assumed to be a bottle before icy cold gel splats down onto your asshole.

“manny! wh-what are you doing?!” hushing you gently, he slathers the lube around his finger before planting it back against your hole, spreading the lube that he’d squeezed onto the site.

“it’s just lube, princess; it’ll help me stretch your little hole so it won’t hurt as much when i teach you about anal properly.” part of him wonders if he should’ve just used his spit instead, saving him the credits it cost to buy this tiny bottle but sympathy had apparently taken him for this lesson.

his finger slips in easily with the help of the lube and he can’t help the groan escaping his own lips when he feels the muscle close up around his digit; how in hells is he going to fit his cock inside this hole?

one finger soon becomes two, and two fingers soon becomes three before he has you squirming in his lap and again, has you pushing back against his fingers and crying out for him to let you cum; he, of course, brings you right to the edge before slipping his fingers out as your desperate voice fills his ears.

“please, manny! i-i need more!” now this was something he was going to have fun with.

“what do you need, cyar’ika? tell me, use your words like my good girl,”

“i need you… i need you to teach me properly! you said you were going to… fuck me..”

“fuck you where, princess?”

“in-in my ass!”

hoisting you upright, he carefully places you onto the mattress of the bunk before positioning you on all fours, your ass exposed to the cold air of the room as the side of your face presses against the sheets below. the familiar coldness of the lube lands on the ringed muscle as mando generously applies some more against his throbbing length, giving it a few pumps before lining himself up with the unused hole.

“i hope you meant it when you said you wanted me to fuck your ass, little one.”

with no warning, he breaches your hole, the sensation much more painful than how his fingers felt; and he keeps going, pushing the entirety of his thick length in before bottoming out and finally stilling.

“it hurts! manny, it hurts!” your teeth grit together as tears begin to dance around your eyes and mando soon realises that he has to calm you down once again, his hand coming to massage your hips while softly shushing you again.

“s’okay, i’m right here. it’s supposed to feel like this at first, babybug, you know i’m much bigger than my fingers, hm? that’s it, just breathe,”

his free fingers find your now-engorged bud, continuing to rub circles around it to help ease the tension piled up in your body again. it seems to help as you begin to focus more on the stimulation against your clit than the pain, instinctively clenching the more he plays with it causing him to grunt at the feeling of your already tight asshole tightening around him.

“there we go, good girl. i’m gonna move again, okay? just try and stay relaxed for me, i know you can pass this lesson, okay?” with no more than a worried whimper, you brace yourself for the movement only to be surprised that it didn’t feel as bad as it felt before.

gauging your lack of reaction at the act mando decides to press on, pushing back in and moaning at just how unbelievably tightly you were squeezing him, repeating his thrusts at a casual pace while continuing to play with your clit.

“oh, m-manny, it-it feels really good now!!” your stuttered words egg him on as he increases the pace, the echoes of your dewy skin slapping against beskar along with your wanton moans encompassing the atmosphere.

“th-this, babybug, is y-your lesson on anal; aren’t you so glad that you decided to give it a go? you’re such a good girl for me, always making me so proud and happy.”

preening at his praise, you can’t help the way you clamp down around his cock as he hisses at the action. moving his hand from your clit to your hips and grabbing onto them, forcing you to take all of him as the slapping of his heavy balls against your clit replace his fingers.

“‘can feel how close you are, princess; y’gonna cum from me fucking your tight, little ass? is that it? y’want me to fill this little hole with all my cum and claim it the same way i’ve claimed your pussy and mouth?”

“yes, yes, yes! pl-please, manny, please can i cum? j-just wanna c-cum…” with your words growing muffled by the way you’re practically being fucked into the mattress, you feel your legs beginning to grow weak as you soon approach your high.

“tell me, tell me you want me to cum inside your little ass, i wanna karking hear you say it while you cum,”

“iwant y-you to cum in-inside my little ass, manny! please, please c-cum!!”

with one final thrust, mando spills his seed deep inside you as the obscenity pushes you over the edge causing you to squeeze the dear life out of mando’s cock, milking him of all his load and then some before your legs give in.

small spasms run through your body in waves as your orgasm litters your come down, and mando isn’t fairing any better either as he shakes his head in an attempt to try and clear his blurred vision.

gaining his composure as fast as he can, he scoops you up in his arms and spews words of praise at you, his cold armour working wonders against your overheated skin.

“shh, i’ve got you, little princess, i’m right here; you did such a good job taking me, such a good girl for me always. who else can make me cum like that, huh?”

“n-no one e-else, manny; you’re m-my manny,” you manage to get your words out through your hiccups, clinging onto the warrior with all your might as the idea of him doing these things with someone else crosses your mind.

he’s yours.