#afgbingo

Summer ends and on the last day before school starts back up, the kids–Malia, Stiles, Jackson and Callie–all head to the park near the Hale’s house. Stiles giggles as the girls put a crown on his head that they made out of flowers. Jackson takes a picture of him and then grumbles halfheartedly when he gets his own crown. They’ve played for hours all summer long and Stiles plays with Callie nearly every day. She is his best friend. 

Stiles starts some more rigorous and in depth therapy with Doctor Bowen to talk about what his mommy did. Jackson and Malia walk him to class and home. Sometimes they even ride the bus with him so he’s not alone.

Third grade is even better than second was and Stiles is enjoying every moment of it. His favorite thing is when he gets to read. Since Stiles was little, he has always loved reading. He is like a sponge, soaking up every bit of knowledge he can. Callie’s older brother suggested he read The Hardy Boys and Stiles eagerly gobbles up all fifty-eight of them.

Callie suggests Goosebumps and Stiles gives it a try, but they don't appeal to him. He still thanks her for the suggestion. His favorites to read are The Chronicles of Narnia, Charlie Bone, The Giver and he actually really likes the Nancy Drew books too. That’s what he’s reading today.

Now that Stiles is seven, Jackson, Malia and he are in third grade. Stiles is technically doing fourth grade work but now that he’s fully attending public school, he wants to stay in the same class as Malia and Jackson. Aunt Talia talked with the school and got it all sorted out. He just does different schoolwork but is physically in the same classroom as his siblings.

At recess, a car pulls up to the school. It’s not unusual for people to come and go during the school day but for some reason, Stiles’s stomach starts to churn with rapidly rising anxiety. He doesn’t know why but his heart jumps to his throat when the car door opens. Zuri is right there with him to calm him as he lays eyes on the person exiting the car.

Malia looks over, noticing her brother isn’t paying attention to her anymore, nor his book or anything else. Well, that’s not true exactly. He’s looking at–‘Uh oh,’ she thinks to herself and quickly rushes to her brother’s side. The woman whose eyes are scanning the playground is someone who definitely shouldn’t be here. Malia knows she has to tell her daddy. Carefully she pulls out her phone and almost misses Stiles speaking.

“Mo’my?” 

It startles Malia because Stiles rarely talks, usually using sign language now for everything. He only speaks vocally to daddy or to the family at home. She doesn’t get to dwell on it long as she hears the woman speak.

“Hi baby,” Claudia says. She has a soft, disarming smile on her face, but Malia can see how tense Stiles is. She grabs his hand as Claudia speaks again. “I’ve missed you baby boy.”

Of course, Stiles doesn’t hear her, and Malia is glad.

He turns to Malia. 

> Why is she here? I want daddy. 

His hands tighten on Zuri’s leash as they begin to shake.

Malia nods and texts their daddy before glaring at Claudia. Her eyes are cold as she stares at the woman who hurt her brother. She places herself in front of Stiles with her arms crossed, cutting Claudia off from seeing him.

Peter’s reply is instant, and Malia relays the text to Stiles. 

> Daddy is coming. He says stay put.

Stiles nods. “Da’dy.”

Claudia’s face, that had been sporting an easy smile, now changes in an instant, turning furious. How dare her son call Peter daddy. Unable to accept this, she starts shouting at them. She says awful things, none of which Stiles hears. Malia hates her even more now. If she truly cared about Stiles, she would realize that he can’t hear her, but Malia is glad Claudia doesn’t know. She comforts her brother and hopes their daddy gets there soon.

Not even five minutes later, Peter arrives and scoops Stiles up, grateful for the deafness if only because it means he won’t hear Claudia’s cruel words. 

Malia hears the words though and Peter has to wrap his arm around her, so she doesn’t go off on Claudia herself. Peter can barely contain his own anger that somehow this woman has shown up when she was never supposed to get out or have access to Stiles ever again. His attention is quickly diverted to the boy when a small hand waves at him.

Stiles signs.

> I want to go home. 

> We are going home right now dearheart. I’ve got you. You’re safe now.

It’s only then that Claudia has stopped speaking as she watches the signing between the man and her son. Since when is her baby deaf? Before she can ask, she’s being arrested and put in the back of a squad car. No matter how much ranting and raving she does, they don’t let her go and her manipulation which got her out of the asylum in the first place doesn’t help her either. The only thing it does is to show that she is a danger to society and especially to her son.

So, she is forced to watch her son leave again while the police drive away with her in cuffs and without what she came for. This time, Claudia is sentenced to life in a maximum security asylum and blacklisted from any visitors. The one time she tries to seduce a guard she ends up in isolation for three days. It takes three instances of that for her to stop trying. Claudia doesn’t give up on getting out, but she changes tactics. 

This behavior continues until the day she gets a visitor, not knowing it’ll be her last one. If Peter has someone visit her to explain exactly what will happen if she pulls that shit again well that’s between that person and her. After all, Peter made a vow, and he will see it through.

He’s not a heartless man nor an evil one, but when the news comes a few months later that Claudia is dead, he doesn’t shed a tear and when he tells Stiles, the boy breathes a sigh of relief.

💦🫧👂🏻•💙•👂🏻🫧💦

For the last couple of months of third grade, Malia and Stiles are homeschooled by Talia. Peter refuses to let them go back to that school as he feels they were very incompetent when it came to the children’s safety. Talia and Marie support him and the three adults look into alternative schooling options. 

Stiles is sulking most of the summer. Even though he gets to see Callie a lot, he’ll be switching schools and he’s worried that he’ll lose his friend. So, when he and Malia are enrolled in Lupus Luna Academy Prep and get their uniforms, he is stunned to see Callie there too. He doesn’t let go of her hand the entire tour. 

Lupus Luna Academy Prep is a school for the deaf and the three children, especially Stiles, thrive there. 

Malia is fiercely protective of her brother and sticks by his side constantly. Callie takes his other side and Zuri is always right there to keep him safe. It makes Stiles feel protected to have Malia on his left, Zuri on his right and Callie next to Zuri. Jackson stays at the public school, but he always does his homework side by side with his siblings.

They are all going to be eight soon and have decided to have a big party for all of them, Callie included. Summer comes and the four kids have been begging their parents to go to Waterloo Heights Summer Camp, now that they are old enough.

Talia paid for two weeks for each of them as an early present and they are all currently packing. Callie’s parents are letting her stay tonight so she’s ready to go first thing in the morning and they won’t have to drive her over.

As the kids pile into the living room for a movie with Zuri in the middle of them next to Stiles, there’s an air of excitement that grows higher the closer it gets to the day they leave for camp. They all snuggle together as the movie Fox and the Hound plays on the tv. Stiles lets Callie hold Vixie, his stuffed fox and when she offers him a smile Peter can’t help but notice that his son seems to have a little crush, his cheeks flushing a light shade of pink.

Peter silently steps up behind his wife, who is watching the children from the doorway and wraps his arms around her waist. She settles back against him and hums when he rests his chin on her shoulder. Their eyes never leave the sight before them. It’s calm and relaxed in their home and something about the peace and happiness makes all the tears and pain of the past seem nonexistent. 

He takes in the tableaus around him; the groups of kids from the local community college, the gaggle of mid to late aged men in awful polos that Cordell recognises as the inner city bowling league, a couple of less savoury looking guys playing pool, the cluster of women those guys keep eyeing up – he’ll keep an eye on that one.

Checking his phone again and taking another drink, he still hasn’t heard anything from Liam. He opens his brother’s contact and is about to give him a call to tell him to get his ass in gear when someone suddenly reaches down beside him, picks up his hat and drops it back on his head while they slide into the seat he’d been saving - except it’s not Liam.

“Hey you,” the stranger says familiarly, bumping her shoulder against his. “Thanks for saving me a seat.”

You shrug out of your jacket and sling it over your arm as you head up to the worn wood counter of the bar. You don’t see your friend yet, so you decide to go ahead and order a drink while you wait for her to show. She’s always late, you should have just assumed and shown up fifteen minutes from now. You play on your phone as you wait for the bartender to finish serving the gang of people at the other end of the bar. When you feel someone in front of you, you look up, about to order a glass of wine, except one is already being placed on the bar top in front of you.

You stare questioningly at the kid serving you the drink. You’d been here before, sure, but you’re hardly a regular, and even if you were you don’t recognise this server – so why does he know what you were about to order?

“Um, I didn’t–” you start but the kid interrupts you.

“From the gentleman at the end of the bar, milady,” he gave a geeky little bow, “Sorry, he told me to say it like that,” he grimaces at himself. You chance a fleeting look back to the group you’d noticed him serving a few minutes ago and to your horror, you recognise your ex, Dirk, grinning back at you. He tips the brim of his ball cap and gives you a wink, like he’s expecting you to be impressed that he remembers you drink red wine. Shit, this is not how this night is supposed to go. You’re supposed to be here to get drunk with your best friend and have a bit of a dance, not be looking over your shoulder the whole night hoping that jerk leaves you alone.

Panicking a little now, you check your phone but there’s no text from Lea telling you when to expect her. Knowing her like you do, you would bet anything she won’t be here soon, and you don’t want to wait on your own and risk Dirk coming to talk to you. Desperately, you scan your eyes around the bar, cataloguing your options and escape routes. Someone catches your eye a few seats along from where you are. Tall, broad – dark and handsome, your mind supplies unhelpfully – but what really catches your eye is the badge hanging from his belt. He’s a Ranger.

Normally, you’d pick a group of girls who you know would happily pretend to know you so you don’t have to wait alone but you know Dirk, and you know he won’t be shy enough to let any number of girls stop him from coming to ruin your night. But a guy - and a Texas Ranger at that – Dirk wouldn’t dare. He had an outstanding DUI, and he’d always been a bit of a chicken around cops anyways.

Choice made, you grab the wine he’d bought you – hey, you’re not made of money, free booze is free booze – and you march purposefully over to the Ranger, who’s checking his phone and not paying attention until you grab his black cowboy hat off the chair next to him. Clearly he had been saving it for someone, and you want Dirk to think that someone is you.

“Hey you,” you chirp, placing his hat back on his head as you slide into the seat he’d been saving, “Thanks for saving me a seat.” You smile at the Ranger long enough to see him looking at you completely perplexed before you glance back to Dirk and see him watching you with a scowl. You let yourself feel inwardly triumphant and turn back to the man you’d just decided to befriend, if only temporarily.

Swivelling back towards him, you let yourself get a good look at his face for the first time. His bright hazel eyes are staring back at you, confused but not unkind. Tall, dark, and handsome is definitely apt, and now you’re seeing him properly you’re a bit speechless. You hadn’t counted on him being this freakin’ attractive.

“Sorry,” you finally manage to choke out under your breath. “I’ll leave you alone soon, I promise, I’m just hiding from my ex,” you explain, and understanding melts across the man’s face.

“Anything I can do to help?” he asks sympathetically.

“Just pretend like you know me until my friend gets here?” you propose hopefully.

“Happy to,” he smiles, grabbing his drink and holding it out to clink against your wine glass. You tap your glass against his, relief flooding your body as you settle onto your stool a little more comfortably.

“Thank you…” you trail off leadingly, hoping he’ll fill in his name.

“Cordell,” he supplies.

“Now there is a Texan name if I ever heard one,” you giggle.

“If you’re gonna laugh at my name do I at least get the chance to laugh at yours too?” he grins jokingly.

“Y/N,” you give him your name, tucking your hair behind your ear and taking a sip of your wine.

“Well that’s no fun, how can I tease you for such a pretty name?” Cordell takes a sip of his own drink, mirroring you. Jeez, this one is a smooth talker.

-

When you finish your glass of wine, probably a little quicker than normal due to your anxious state, you check your phone again and see a missed call from Lea. “Crap,” you sigh, drawing a concerned look from Cordell, who is happily munching away on some chips and queso next to you.

“Everything okay?” He asks, muffled, mouth still full of food.

“Yeah, s’just my friend bailing on me,” you gripe, listening to the voicemail she’d left on your phone a few minutes ago. “Sorry I gate crashed your night for nothing,” you apologise, popping your phone back in your bag and planning on just going home to turn in early and watch some junky tv show in bed now that your ‘girls night’ wasn’t happening.

“Hey, you aren’t gate crashing.” Cordell shrugs, like he’s hedging his bets with his next statement. “I’ve had a good time so far.” His smile is shy and sincere, and you soften just a little in your annoyance at the world.

“I totally am though, you were clearly waiting for someone,” you gesture to the stool you’d taken up residence on.

“Just my work-a-holic brother, who, as luck would have it–” Cordell pulls his phone from his pocket and holds it up to show the message on the lock screen “–also pulled out on me.”

“Oh,” you blink, not sure what to make of that. It sounds like he’s asking you to stay but… “Well, thank you for being my knight in shining armour for a bit, seriously, but I don’t really want to stick around just to have my ex looking at me all night.”

“Well, if he’s gonna be a creep and keep watching you all night, we could make that fun, give him something to watch,” Cordell offers, his smirk incongruous with the almost hopeful expression in his eyes.

“What?” You’re perplexed.

“I mean, I don’t know what happened between you, but it’s pretty obvious to me that he wants you back, and you seem pretty pissed at him for that. I’m guessing the bastard cheated on you?” You huff in response, a little bitter that he’d read the situation so easily.

“Yeah, he did,” you admit, slumping against the bar, feeling downtrodden at the memory.

“So don’t let him chase you off,” Cordell shrugs like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “He messed you around – you tellin’ me you wouldn’t like to mess with him right back?” he raises an eyebrow in temptation, a knowing smirk twitching at his lips.

“And you’re proposing that instead of not wanting him to look at me all night–”

“You make him look,” Cordell finishes your sentence for you. “We’ve already pretended to know each other for the past–” he checks his watch “–twenty minutes. May as well just do the whole pretend date.” Cordell looks at you with so much honesty, you believe that he really does just want to help you screw with Dirk. And you cannot say the idea isn’t appealing.

“Alright,” you concede, shaking your head slightly in disbelief that you’re actually agreeing to this, and Cordell’s face splits into a wide smile. Honestly, seeing that expression alone made agreeing to this worth it. “So, if we’re on a pretend date, you gonna pretend to buy me another drink?”

“No,” you insist, shaking your head vehemently.

“C’mon,” Cordell chides, grinning madly.

“I did not agree to this,” you shake your head, finishing off the last bit of wine in your glass.

“Come on,” he urges again, leaning against the bar and tilting his head close to yours pleadingly.

“I am not dancing,” you repeat, wholeheartedly meaning it. You think if you have to come into genuine skin to skin contact with Cordell, you might actually melt into a puddle. Now three glasses of wine into your fake date, you can feel yourself loosening up and really enjoying yourself with this handsome stranger. He’s kind, and funny, and a little weird but in a charming way – exactly your type. And him begging you to dance with him wasn’t helping your self-restraint. This is a fake date, you keep reminding yourself firmly every time he flashes you that little half smile that makes his eyes light up.

“Well, I don’t know what kind of boring fake dates you usually go on, but mine aren’t complete unless I get to show off my two-step and knock back a tequila shot.”

“Oh, we’re doing tequila now, are we?” You laugh – this guy is actually ridiculous, and you kind of love it.

“That wasn’t a no,” he jumps on your ‘non denial’ and waves at the kid behind the bar. “Two tequilas, two limes?” he holds up two fingers and the bartender nods to him, quickly pouring out the shots and dropping two lime wedges onto a plate. Cordell grabs a salt shaker from the condiments rack on the bar and sets everything up between you. You let him work, watching incredulously but enjoying the show nonetheless.

“Give me your hand,” he holds out his own hand expectantly once he’s arranged all the pieces to his liking.

“Why?” your voice is nervous but your hand reaches out instantly of its own accord. Without answering he proceeds to rub the edge of the lime over the inside of your wrist, then puts the lime in your fingers and shakes some salt over the trail of juice he left behind. He does the same thing to himself, then passes you your shot, which you take in your lime-free hand.

“Right, you wanna do this the normal way or the ‘make Dirk jealous way’?” Cordell asks with a smirk once he’s oriented himself.

“I’m gonna regret asking this, but what’s the ‘make Dirk jealous’ way?” you groan exaggeratedly, like he’s put some great burden on you, but the truth is you’re really enjoying yourself.

“Like this,” Cordell steps up to you and links your right arms together. Catching his drift you smile and try to hold back the snort of laughter that bubbles up inside you – a nervous reaction to feeling the warmth of his body against yours, even through the layer of his shirt. “One, two, three,” he counts off and you go to lick the salt off your wrist except that’s what Cordell is doing. You freeze momentarily, heat shooting up your arm from where his tongue and lips are laving over your skin. You don’t think to move until Cordell puts his own wrist against your lips and you lick obediently.

Your linked arms pull you closer together as Cordell lifts the tequila to his lips and you follow suit in a kind of trance, both knocking back your shots. The tequila hits you harder than you remember it ever doing before, and you scrunch up your face, disoriented for a moment until you once again feel Cordell’s lips on your skin. This time they’re wrapping around your finger tips as he sucks the lime into his mouth. You stand frozen, the burn in your mouth and your fingers meeting in your chest and ratcheting up your heart rate as if you’re trying to run away from the oncoming flames. But it’s hopeless, you’re stuck in the blaze now.

“You want your lime, darlin’?” Cordell laughs at your stock still frame and holds his fingers to your lips, gently pressing the fruit inside and urging you to suck. You’re sure you must have physically combusted into fire by now, but Cordell isn’t jumping away like he’s been singed – he’s pressing closer. “Dance with me,” he rasps, voice hoarse from the burn of the alcohol. It’s not a request anymore, it’s an order, and you don’t question it.

Drawing his hand down the arm of yours linked with his until your fingers lace together, he pulls you away from the bar and out onto the dance floor. It’s an upbeat country song, the kind you’d normally jump around to, but he pulls you in and wraps an arm around your waist like a proper partner dance calls for – except he’s ignored the social convention of leaving room for Jesus. He pulls you after him in tiny circles and you let him lead happily. When the song changes to something a little slower he pulls you just a little tighter, and you can’t stop yourself from moving your gaze off his shoulder up to his face.

His eyes dart over your shoulder, then smile down at you wryly, and you feel yourself blush. “He’s watching,” Cordell grins mischievously. You go to look but he puts a hand on your neck and holds you still, keeping your eyes on him. His fingers are strong and warm against your collarbone, ironically causing you to shiver. “No, don’t look at him,” his voice is low as he leans in conspiratorially, “you wanna make him look, remember?”

“Why are you helping me?” The alcohol swimming through your veins is making you comfortable and fuzzy, and you let yourself lean against him familiarly, your head resting against his chest as he continues to move you both around the dance floor. You feel him shrug as his grips on your hand and the nape of your neck tighten a little.

“The truth?” he asks. You can hear the nerves in his voice, even if you can’t see them on his face.

“No, I want you to lie to me, please,” your voice manages to stay serious through the end of the joke before you burst into giggles, and you feel your laughter move into his body and trigger his own, making his chest rise and fall unevenly beneath your cheek.

“You are one hell of a gal, you know that?” You’re glad your face is buried in his chest so he can’t see just how brightly you smile at the compliment. “Truth is, I’ve been trying to get you drunk and have my wicked way with you.” You can tell by how expressionless his voice has gone that he’s winding you up, but you pull back and slap your hand to your chest in mock horror.

“Well Cordell Walker, I have never met such a rogue in my life,” you gasp in your best Scarlet O’Hara accent. It’s not a good one. Neither of you can keep a straight face for more than a few seconds, and you both double over in laughter after your minuscule standoff.

As your laughter dies down, Cordell grabs your hands again and pulls you back to him, swaying entirely out of time to the song that’s playing. He looks like he’s about to say something but the words haven’t quite found their way to his tongue, and when you catch his eyes you suddenly don’t want to hear what he has to say and you pull away from him. He looks at you, puzzled and just the slightest bit hurt as you try to find some cover for your sudden movement.

“You wouldn’t happen to be a bourbon fan, would you?”

Part 2 Here!

We’re All Mads Here: @vulgar-library @tintentrinkerin @negans-lucille-tblr @fandomfic-galore @petitgateau911 @schaefchenherde @kickingitwithkirk @little-diable @laxe-chester67 @kassyscarlett @austin-winchester67

“Well, I’m glad I get to see you tonight, baby girl.” The register of Cordell’s voice drops when he says your nickname, and you shiver pleasantly. 

“I can’t wait to see you either, Daddy,” you smile, smacking your lips together as you put the finishing touches on your lipstick and smile at your reflection in the mirror. 

“Do I get a sneak peek at your dress?” Cordell asks. You’d sent him an excited text from the store when you’d finally found the perfect outfit for your graduation dance at school, but you hadn’t let him see it yet. You pick your phone up and carry it to the closet where your dress is hanging on the back of the door, and you snap a quick photo of the corner of the bodice, so he can get a look at the deep, jewel tone colour of the lace. 

“Sent you a pic,” you call down the receiver of the phone as you set it down to pull on your stockings. You fasten the stockings to your suspender belt as you wait for Cordell’s reaction, and you tug the bustier you’re wearing back into place once you have everything on and clipped together. 

“You know how much I like lace on you, baby girl.” You smirk in satisfaction-- that’s precisely why you’d chosen this dress. “I bet it will look beautiful on you.” 

“Do you want to see what else I’m wearing tonight, Daddy?” You keep your voice innocent and coy, knowing he’ll take the bait. 

“Of course I do, darlin’. You know the rules, I always get a picture if you wear one of the things I picked out for you.” You smile wickedly as you arrange yourself in the mirror to show off the new lingerie that you’d bought especially for this night. Cordell is going to love it, but he isn’t going to be pleased with you when he sees it. The two of you have rules. He gets to pick out all of the lingerie you buy, and any time you wear it you have to send him a photo of you in it. Cordell didn’t pick out the set you’re wearing now, so you know you’re going to be in trouble with him later when you get to Stella’s house – and you can’t wait. 

You pose yourself in the mirror to highlight your curves, which are wrapped in glittering lace and ribbon details, and push your hand into your hair to muss it up for the picture. You take a few and pick one you’re happy with, sending it to Cordell with the caption ‘can’t wait until you get your hands on me in this 😉’. Then you sit back on your bed and wait for Cordell to receive the text. 

“Did you get it, Daddy?” You ask when he’s silent for a few moments. 

“Is that some new underwear, baby girl?” Cordell asks measuredly. 

“Uh-huh,” you giggle. 

“I don’t remember picking that out for you, angel,” Cordell’s voice drops in pitch, growing threatening, and you smile widely. 

“It was another surprise for you, Daddy,” you answer innocently, acting like you didn’t notice the change in Cordell’s tone just then. 

“I hope you were about ready to leave, baby girl, because I expect you here in 20 minutes. If you’re late, there will be an extra punishment, do you understand?” 

“Yes, Daddy,” your voice has climbed higher in excitement. 

“Good.” Cordell ends the call without a goodbye, and you know you’re in for it now. 

You ring the old iron bell on the porch by their front door when you arrive, with just a minute and a half to spare. Cordell opens the door with a friendly smile and ushers you into the kitchen with a call behind his back of – “Stella! Y/N is here!” – before turning back to you and giving you a quick hug. 

“Hey Mr. Walker,” you smirk, knowing it drives him crazy when you call him that. He rolls his eyes at you but smiles – from how he’s acting now you’d never know that he’s about to punish you for breaking his rules. 

“Come on, do a little twirl for me darlin’,” Cordell spins his finger through the air and you whirl around on your toes, demonstrating the movement of your dress. The hem flips up as you spin, showing off the slightest hint of lace and the tops of the stockings that you’d teased him with earlier in your photos. “You look beautiful, Y/N,” his eyes soften as he looks you up and down, admiring the dress, and you in it. 

“Thanks,” you blush, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. It astonishes you that he can still make you feel butterflies like this, just by saying something so simple. The sound of a door from the hall draws your attention and you look up to see Stella running into the kitchen, still in her bathrobe. 

“Y/N, you look so awesome!” Stella squeals and gives you a big hug. “You’re early, I wasn’t expecting you for another hour,” she laughs exasperatedly. 

“Well you know me,” you shrug, “I got impatient,” you giggle, your eyes flashing to Cordell, who smirks at you behind Stella’s back. He knows just how impatient you can be sometimes.  

“I’m still doing my hair, come hang out in my room,” Stella pulls you along behind her. 

“Yeah of course, but can I use your bathroom first?” 

“August is taking a shower, but he should be done soon,” Stella says. 

“You can use the one in my room,” Cordell offers, like you knew he would. “Here, I’ll show ya.” He moves in front of you and Stella, and beckons you down the hall after him. 

“Thanks, Mr. Walker,” you smile, and follow him to the master bedroom at the end of the hall. Once inside, he shuts the door quietly behind you and his demeanor instantly changes. 

“So,” Cordell gives you a tight lipped smile, his eyes darkening as they once again rake up and down your body, but this time he lets the hunger seep through. 

“Sooo,” you draw out the word, moving closer to him and swirling your skirt around your legs as you go. 

“Someone decided to break one of our rules, hmm?” He crosses his arms over his chest and looks down at you stonily. 

“I just thought you’d like it Daddy,” you pout up at him. “I know how much you like me in lace, and I wanted to look pretty for you.” You press your hands against his chest and flutter your lashes, but you know this innocent act isn’t going to get you any mercy. 

“You look very pretty in it, but that’s not the point baby girl. We have rules for a reason.” Cordell smiles at you sympathetically and reaches out to rub his hands up and down your arms in a comforting gesture. The heat of his skin against yours makes you shudder, and you let him draw you closer to him. “So you know I’m gonna have to punish you now, yeah?” 

“I know, Daddy,” you nod meekly. 

“But you’re gonna have to stay real quiet, so Stels and August don’t hear us. Can you do that for me?” he checks. 

“I can be quiet, Daddy.”

“Okay, good girl,” Cordell smiles and lets you go, moving to sit on the edge of his bed. “Come on,” he twirls his finger in the air and pats his knee, and you go willingly, acting penitent but secretly loving this inside. You drape yourself over his lap, your ass in the air right over his groin, and you can feel the stirrings of his arousal beneath you. He flips the hem of your dress up, revealing the offending lace panties that had gotten you into trouble in the first place. His hands run over your thighs, pinging the suspenders against your skin and making you jump a little against him. “Easy, baby,” he soothes, chuckling. “So, how many do you think you deserve for breaking the rules this time?” 

“I don’t know, Daddy,” you squirm. As much as you love to provoke Cordell, and get him to punish you, you’re never good at this part. You hate how he essentially makes you ask for what you want done to you, which is exactly why he does it. 

“Well, it is your graduation dance tonight, so maybe I can go a little easy on you. Should we say ten, baby girl?” 

“Okay, Daddy,” you nod into your arms, which are holding you up on the mattress. 

“Alright then, count them off for me baby.” And without any more preamble Cordell brings his palm down firmly against your right asscheek. You gasp at the sting, wriggling on his lap. 

“One,” you say quietly, pressing your head against your arms and bracing for the next hit. It comes swiftly, his hand smacking your left side. “Two.” You can feel yourself getting wet now, and you know Cordell must be able to see the moisture seeping through the lace between your legs. The embarrassment at that thought makes you squirm even more, turned on by the humiliation that you like your punishments this much. 

Hits three and four come hard and fast, not even giving you time to count between them. Cordell’s big hand rubs across your skin to soothe you, and he gives you a moment to breathe before he doles out hits five and six – each harder than the last. Now you can feel the slick starting to drip down the crease of your thigh, and Cordell notices too, because he reaches out and draws a finger through the trail that’s winding its way across your skin. 

“What’s this, baby girl?” he coos from above you. 

“N-nothing, Daddy,” you stutter. 

“What a little slut, getting all wet for Daddy while he’s spanking you. You really are a bad girl, aren’t you baby?”

“No,” you protest quickly. “No, Daddy, I’m good, I promise.” You have to be good during your punishments, or else you won’t get your reward after. 

“Yeah? You’re a good girl?” Cordell teases his finger below the lace between your legs, brushing his fingertip through your folds, and pushing lightly against your entrance. 

“Yes, I’m a good girl, Daddy,” you whine, pushing your hips back against his finger. “Your good girl Daddy, please.” 

“Please what, baby?” 

“Please keep punishing me, Daddy,” you push your ass towards his hand, moaning when he digs his fingers into your flesh. 

“Alright baby, just four more for me, you’re doing really good.” You smile to yourself as you count seven and eight, pushing your hips back into the harsh contact each time, relishing in the heat that blooms in the wake of each slap. 

“Spread your legs a little for me baby girl,” Cordell pushes at your thighs, moving them apart himself. You let him position you how he wants, following the pressure he puts on your lower back and sticking your hips farther back, exposing the visible wet spot between your legs to the open air. A harsh strike lands directly over your pussy and you cry out briefly before you remember to muffle your voice against your skin. 

“N-nine,” you gasp, your pussy throbbing beneath Cordell’s hand, which is rubbing between your legs to soothe the burn it had just caused. 

“Keep quiet f’me, baby,” Cordell breathes, and you can hear how worked up he’s getting just from punishing you. You’re glad that at least you’re not the only one. 

He lands one more cruel spank over your pussy and you bite on your forearm to keep from crying out, whimpering a quiet “ten” into your skin as you squirm in is his lap, trying to press your hips into his fingers, which are brushing lightly over the sopping lace covering your core. He lets you press into him, rewarding you by dragging his fingers up to your clit and running a few teasing circles over the little bundle of nerves. 

“Did so good for me, baby girl,” Cordell whispers gruffly, stroking more earnestly as he teases you through your underwear. 

“Thank you, Daddy,” you whimper softly, thrusting needily against his fingers, trying to get more friction against your aching core. “Please Daddy, please,” you beg, not even able to conjure the words for what you need, you’re too desperate. All your brain can think is please, need something, need more. 

“Okay baby, c’mere,” Cordell manoeuvres you off of his lap and you stand on shaky legs before you lean against the nearby dresser for support. Cordell stands and follows you, undoing his belt and zipper, and pulling his hard cock out of his boxers. Your mouth always waters when you see it, and right now is no different. If you had more time you’d drop to your knees and suck him down – you love the ache you get in your jaw every time he fucks your mouth – but right now you both have a different goal in mind. 

Cordell lifts you and sets you on top of his dresser, so he can reach your mouth easier, and kisses you deeply. You moan against his lips, letting your tongues tangle together and reaching up to run your fingers through his hair, tugging on it gently and giggling when he lets out a groan and bites at your lip. He runs his hands down your back and scooches you to the edge of the dresser, grabbing his dick to rub the tip against your centre, pushing your panties to the side as he does, so he can press into your entrance. 

When he pushes in, oh so slowly, you have to bite into his shoulder to keep from moaning too loudly. He fills you so completely, it feels like every nerve between your legs is on fire, and you would happily burn in the flames. Cordell gives a few shallow thrusts, probably not wanting to move too quickly and accidentally hurt you, but the dresser thumps against the wall with each movement, and he stills again, needing to keep quiet. In a flash, he’s hooked his arms around your back and lifted you up in the air. You wrap your legs around his waist, locking him inside you as he moves the pair of you to the wall, pressing you against it for support and shifting his hands to grip your ass and hold you up. 

Slowly, he pulls out and pistons back in, testing how quiet your new position is. Satisfied that you can be sufficiently sneaky this way, he starts to pick up the pace of his thrusting, and this position has his hips dragging across your clit with every press forward. You bury your head against his shoulder and bunch your hands in his shirt. You’re just along for the ride at this point, letting him use your body to chase his own release, and you can tell he’s close when his thrusts get quicker, messier. He bends his knees a little to change angles and get a better grip on you, and on the next thrust in his cock drags right over that sweet spot inside you and you can’t hold in the whimper of “Daddy” against his neck. 

“Yeah, that’s it baby girl,” Cordell breathes against your ear, bucking his hips into you faster and faster, and you can feel your pussy start to twitch around his length, desperate to reach your peak. “I can feel how close you are baby, your little pussy feels so good squeezing around Daddy’s cock like that. C’mon and come for me baby girl, come for Daddy.” He ducks in to swallow your whines in a bruising kiss, and you let yourself come undone around him as he kisses you through it, drinking in your moans and letting them spur him on.

 As you come down, and feel yourself start to loosen around him, losing the strength in your limbs to keep yourself locked in place, you feel Cordell’s movements quicken, becoming jerky and erratic, and then they still as he holds himself inside you, grunting through his own release as he buries his head into the crook of your neck. When he’s finished, he slowly drags his head away from your shoulder and pulls out of you. Immediately, you feel his release start to drip from your entrance but Cordell pulls your panties back into place to catch the cum that’s leaking out of you now. The thought of going to this dance with his cum pooling in your new panties is deliciously wrong, and you love how dirty it makes you feel. 

“Thank you, Daddy,” you smile up at him, and pull him down for another kiss. “I promise I’ll be good from now on.” Cordell scoffs, good naturedly but completely disbelieving. 

“Now, we both know that’s not true, don’t we?” he smirks down at you. 

“Well…” you muse with a teasing smile. 

“Yeah,” Cordell laughs derisively and places a short kiss against your forehead. “That’s what I thought.” He swats at your ass and pushes you towards the door to the bathroom in the corner of his bedroom. “Now, go clean yourself up and get out of here. Have a good time at your dance tonight.” You smile and nod, heading for the bathroom. “And, Y/N?” You turn and look back at Cordell, leaning against the dresser and watching you with a smirk. “You know the rules – I better get a few more pictures of you in those panties while you’re out later. I wanna see what a mess I made of my baby girl.” 

You grin, squeezing your legs together and feeling his slick pressing against your core. “Of course Daddy,” you smile. “You know me, I always follow the rules.”

His mind flashes back to his baby girl sneaking into the kitchen an hour ago, small pyjama shorts riding up far too high, clearly rooting through the fridge for some beers to sneak back to her room. She’d jumped when Cordell cleared his throat behind her, sitting forwards from his spot on the couch, so the light of the refrigerator caught on his stern face. 

“Whatcha doin’ there, Stella Blue?” 

“Hi, Dad,” she squeaks, tucking her hands behind her in the fridge. “Just, um,” she scrambles for something out of sight, “grabbing this.” Stella pulls a soda from behind her back. 

“Really?” Cordell smirks, not angry, he’d been expecting something like this - that’s why he was up and sitting on the couch, waiting. “Caffeine? At this hour?” Even August, teenage boy obsessed with the internet that he is, had turned out his lights and gone to bed a little while ago. 

“I - uh…” Stella grimaces. 

“Why don’t you put that back, Stels?” He feels his lips tighten and brows furrow in his best attempt at ‘stern dad’ without looking angry. For a moment, Stella looks like she’s going to argue but then she thinks better of it, puts away the soda, and slinks back to her room, shutting the door softly behind her. 

Another giggle breaks him from his reverie and his hand closes into a fist against the cold granite counter, fighting the urge to knock and tell them to go to bed. He downs the new measure of bourbon he’s just poured out, desperately wishing he could erase some of the things he’s heard tonight. But the alcohol and the burning in his throat do nothing to block out the soft groan that slips from beneath his daughter’s door. 

It was so quiet, he isn’t positive he’d heard it. And his Ranger brain kicks in, trying to find any possible explanation for what the noise could have been; the wind outside, an animal in the ranch paddock… the creak of a bed spring. That is definitely what the new sound he’s just heard is – a muffled squeak as bodies shift on a too old mattress and less than well-oiled box spring. It’s quickly followed by another quiet groan, and Cordell grits his teeth and takes a long swig of bourbon, foregoing the formality of pouring it into the glass first. 

The bottle is halfway to his lips again when he hears a small, high-pitched whine – Stella’s – but something seems … off. Cordell has known his baby girl for eighteen years. He knows what she sounds like when she’s happy, when she’s tired, when she’s sad, when she’s hurt. There’s another small whimper and Cordell strains to hear better. He needs to be sure. The third time he hears it he’s certain. That’s not a happy sound coming from his daughter’s bedroom, it’s one of discomfort, one of pain. Cordell bursts through the door in a fury, already rolling up his sleeves in preparation for tearing this Trevor kid in two for hurting his baby girl. 

“Aah, Dad!” Stella screams, pulling her pyjama top back down to cover her exposed breasts and yanking Trevor’s hand out of her shorts. Cordell stops dead, unprepared for the shock that it is seeing Stella splayed out on her bed, chest bare and trembling, and her boyfriend’s fingers between her legs. In his burning rage he also feels a flare of desire distracting enough to delay him wringing Trevor’s neck. 

Trevor is very carefully trying to shift away from Stella in the bed, like Cordell is less likely to beat him up if he increases the distance between himself and his daughter, and the movement draws Cordell’s attention back to the boy – the very naked boy – in his daughter’s bed.  

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Cordell hisses, finding the presence of mind to shut the door behind him so August doesn’t walk by and see what’s happening inside. “You think you can come into my house, force yourself on my daughter? Boy, I learned how to castrate bulls when I was ten. What do you think I’m about to do with you, huh?” Trevor is frozen in terror, boner now completely limp, his cock retreating like a turtle into its shell. 

“Dad, no!” Stella exclaims, pulling a blanket over Trevor to cover his modesty. 

“Stella, don’t worry baby, I’m not gonna let this piece of scum touch you ever again,” Cordell promises, storming towards the pair on the bed. 

“No, Daddy,” she tries again, standing up to put herself between Cordell and Trevor. “Stop. He wasn’t forcing me! I wanted it.” Cordell stops short, looking down at Stella, who has her hands pressing against his chest in an effort to calm him. “I –” Stella swallows nervously, looking him in the eye. “I’m sorry, Daddy, but I wanted this. That’s why I asked him to come stay this weekend, we wanted to, y’know…” she can’t get the words out. “Don’t hurt him, he wasn’t forcing me.” 

“But,” Cordell’s mind is still reeling from the fact that Stella is standing here in front of him telling him she planned to lose her virginity this weekend, “Stels, I heard you. You sounded like he was hurting you.”

“I would never hurt her,” Trevor shoots up in the bed, angrily, but cows under Cordell’s glare, “um, sir,” he finishes lamely. 

“Stella,” Cordell sits her down on the end of her bed and drops to one knee in front of her. He brushes her long red hair off her face, cupping her cheek gently, and focusing on her soft blue eyes, shimmering with nerves. “I need you to be one hundred percent honest with me. Was he hurting you?” 

Stella shakes her head immediately but takes a moment to find her words, Cordell can tell she’s holding something back. “No,” she finally starts, “not, um, not on purpose.” 

“What?” Trevor and Cordell speak simultaneously and equally confused. 

“It.. he, um, he didn’t hurt me Dad,” Stella is stronger in her conviction now, “it just,” she grimaces, stalling. Cordell finally understands. 

“He wasn’t very good, was he?” Cordell grimaces in sympathy, and a little amusement at Trevor’s expense. Stella shakes her head ever so slightly, and Cordell laughs. Trevor is sitting in an embarrassed silence behind them, clutching the blanket in his lap. Cordell stands, brushing a hand down the back of Stella’s head as he rounds on the boy. “You ever touched a girl before, Trevor?”

“Yes,” he answers indignantly. 

“You ever made a girl cum before?” Cordell is a little taken aback by his own bluntness, but he supposes the seven or eight shots of liquor he’s had over the past hour must be fogging his brain a little. 

“Yes,” Trevor answers again, but his doubt is evident. 

“You don’t sound too sure about that, son,” Cordell pokes, standing over him now, arms crossing over his chest. Trevor tries to stutter out an answer but he doesn’t manage any actual words. “From where I was standing, it sounds like you could use a few lessons,” Cordell smirks knowingly. 

“Dad, leave him alone,” Stella objects, climbing back up the bed to Trevor’s side. 

“What?” he feigns innocence, smiling. “I’m just looking out for my baby girl. Can’t have you getting hurt, even by accident.” 

“Dad,” she whines again, burying her head in Trevor’s shoulder. 

“Plus,” Cordell kneels again, putting himself back on their level, “what kind of daddy would I be if I didn’t make sure you were being taken good care of?” Both teens are clearly not sure what they’re supposed to say to that. Cordell takes advantage of their silence and sits on the edge of the bed, and Trevor recoils slightly into Stella’s arms, which are wrapped around his waist. “So,” Cordell brings his hand up to Trevor’s face and brushes a curl behind his ear, keeping eye contact with the boy as he speaks, “he a good kisser, Stels? Or is he useless at that too?”

“Yeah – no – he’s… he’s a good kisser, Daddy,” Stella blushes, her answers given in an almost trance-like state. 

“Well, let’s find out,” and he leans forward to kiss the younger boy, hand still in his curly brown hair. 

Their lips meet hesitantly, like Cordell is waiting for Trevor to pull away, and Trevor is waiting for Cordell to tell him this whole thing is a joke, but now they are kissing softly – like you would at the end of a first date, when you still need to find out what they like. Stella’s cheeks burn as she watches her father kiss her boyfriend gently, surprised by the surge of arousal she feels pulsing through her at the sight. She knows what Trevor’s lips feel like against hers, soft and wet and insistent, and she wonders if they feel the same to her daddy. They break apart with sharp gasps, and Cordell’s eyes flick to hers, glinting in the low light. 

“Well, at least I know he’s been showing you a good time so far, baby girl,” he smirks at her, and Stella nods gingerly. “C’mere, sweetie,” Cordell motions her forwards, and she goes willingly, not knowing what he was planning to do but wanting desperately to find out. “Kiss her,” he breathes at Trevor, and the boy listens, leaning forwards and drawing Stella into him. 

Trevor’s kiss overwhelms her, and Stella melts against his bare chest. His kiss is familiar and warm, but the hand against her back is new. It’s larger, rougher, and it curls into her skin more possessively than Trevor’s fingers ever had. Stella moans into Trevor’s lips, letting his tongue wrap around hers, and her daddy’s fingers twist into the hair on the back of her head. 

“There you go, sweetheart,” he whispers against her ear, and Stella whimpers, this time very clearly from pleasure and not discomfort. The hand against her back pushes down, and Stella follows, straddling Trevor and laying down over him, tangling their hands together on the pillow by his head. As they continue to kiss and grind, she feels Trevor’s erection through the thin cotton of her shorts. Pleased that she can feel his reaction to her, she rubs over him eagerly – and her daddy must have noticed, because his hand drags down her back and lands on her hip, encouraging her grinding. 

Trevor moans and ruts up between her legs, and the pressure there against her core feels amazing. “Shit,” Trevor groans into her lips. 

“She gettin’ wet yet?” Stella whines in embarrassment and arousal at her daddy’s words. 

“Yeah,” Trevor pants from beneath her, “can feel it, even through her shorts.” Stella hides her face in the crook of his shoulder, but can’t stop herself rubbing against the hard member between her thighs. 

“Fuck,” Cordell is smirking, Stella can hear it in his voice. “You must be soaking, baby girl.”

“Mmhmm,” Stella’s voice is muffled in the pillow, but  she doesn’t want to pick up her head and reveal just how much her daddy’s words are turning her on. 

“Bet you taste so fuckin’ sweet, baby,” Cordell’s fingers ghost over her bottom, drawing dangerously close to the wet patch that is clearly visible on her little shorts. “You wanna taste her, son? Get your first good lick of pussy?” Trevor’s groan answers him. “Roll over, Stels, on your back, honey.” Stella lets her father’s hands push her off of Trevor and onto the bed.

“Get those clothes off her,” Cordell commands Trevor, and he eagerly complies, reaching out to pull Stella’s shorts down her slim, pale legs, stretched out beneath him, cradled in the sheets. She pulls her own top over her head, small perky breasts slipping free, and Cordell can’t take his eyes off them. Fuck, his baby girl has grown up so fuckin’ pretty. “Spread your legs for us, baby.” He puts his hand on one of her thighs and encourages them to part, revealing her glistening core. “Now, hands and knees, boy, c’mon,” he spins his finger in the air, indicating Trevor needs to turn himself around and get between Stella’s legs. 

The boy climbs to the space where Cordell wants him and settles on his hands and knees, staring at the spot between Stella’s thighs where he clearly wants to be, but keeping still, because he hasn’t been told to do anything else yet. Cordell hops off the bed and quickly unbuttons his shirt, discarding it on the floor, where it’s joined shortly by his belt and pants. He crawls back onto the bed behind Trevor, and smooths a large, calloused hand up his thigh and over his ass. 

“You strike me as more of a ‘hands on learner’, buddy. That true?” 

“Yes, Sir,” Trevor nods, hoping that’s the answer Cordell was looking for. 

“Good. Then I’m gonna show you everything you’ve gotta do to make my little girl cum for you. You want that?” 

“Yes,” the boy answers eagerly. 

“You’ve just gotta follow my lead, do everything I do, okay?” 

“Mm-hmm.” Another nod, and then a shocked gasp, as Cordell leans down and runs his tongue up the seam of Trevor’s ass, right over his hole. He does it again, the same simple motion, one lick bottom to top, and Trevor groans, shuddering beneath him. 

“I thought I told you to do everything I do?” Cordell huffs when he draws back and sees Trevor’s head hanging limply between his shoulders. “Don’t leave my baby waiting.” He doesn’t move back to his task until he sees Trevor dip his head and drag his tongue over Stella’s entrance, and up to the small bundle of nerves at its peak. Stella almost squeals, hands rushing to clutch in the boy’s curls and make him stay there between her legs. He licks against her again and she whines, high and desperate. 

“Daddy…” she whimpers, tossing her head back. 

“You’re doing so good, baby girl.” Cordell brushes the hair out of her eyes, which are currently squeezed closed in pleasure. “Look so pretty… all spread out for us – doesn’t she?” 

“Mmm,” Trevor hums against Stella, his tongue still drawing its lines up and down her core. Cordell grins behind him, happy he’s not taking his mind off the task at hand. Stella’s breathing is sharp and quick, still not familiar with the sensation of having a tongue playing with her pussy, and he’s about to teach Trevor some more tricks to make her squirm. 

Cordell draws his tongue flat along Trevor’s hole, laving at the expanse of skin beneath it as well. The chain reaction of moans from Trevor and then Stella tells him that Trevor has copied his movement over Stella’s entrance. He quickly changes tact and traces the tip of his tongue in small circles right over Trevor’s hole, making it flutter and twitch, then soothing it with longer licks. “You feel what I’m doing to you?” Cordell hums into Trevor’s skin, and the boy moans in affirmation. “Do that right over her clit, nice and light— there ya go,” Stella keens across her daddy’s instructions, making him smile. “Now go ahead and give it a nice hard suck, and keep your tongue moving, just like that, yeah,” Cordell strokes his hand over Trevor’s back as he continues to build Stella closer and closer to her orgasm. 

Stella’s hands are gripping the quilt beneath her like she’s about to fall off a cliff and that’s the only thing that’s keeping her grounded. Her daddy moves up to her side, grabbing her hand and winding their fingers together, so she can hang on to him instead. She turns and buries her face in Cordell’s side, while still pushing her hips harder into her boyfriend’s mouth, whimpering in pleasure. Cordell draws soothing circles over the back of her hand as she clutches him even tighter. 

“You need to cum, baby girl?” He keeps his voice soothing, and steady. Stella nods into his side. “Alright, sweetheart.” He brushes the hair back from her face, so he can watch her expression. “Okay son, want you to take your finger and push the tip inside her, just a little bit.” Trevor doesn’t make an audible response, but Cordell can tell when he does it because Stella’s breath hitches, pushing her chest into his leg. “Alright, now work it deeper, go real slow for me.” He sees Trevor’s arm start to push in and out of his little girl. “There’s a spot you want to find, if you move your finger along the top…” and after a moment Stella moans, deep and full. “Yeah, feels good doesn’t it, baby girl?” Stella whines and answers by bucking her hips down into Trevor’s finger. “Okay keep rubbing against it like that, and get your mouth back on her —” another moan from Stella “— now a little faster —”

“Oh my god,” Stella is close to sobbing with the pleasure, now. “Daddy, Daddy, please.” Cordell can’t help the smirk that splits his face when he hears Stella begging him, not Trevor, to make her cum. 

“Go ahead and cum Stels,” he squeezes her hand. “Be my good girl, cum for Daddy now, c’mon.” 

“Daddy!” She squeals as her body convulses, then stiffens, back arching off the bed in a graceful curve that pushes the pale flesh of her breasts right towards Cordell’s face, and he can’t help but lean down and kiss one nipple, gently. 

“Good girl, Stels,” he strokes his big hand down her belly, which is still twitching with the aftershocks of her orgasm. “Did so, so good for me, baby girl.” When Stella can finally peel her eyes open, and they find her daddy’s face above her, her smile is blinding, if a little dazed. 

“Fuck, that was hot, baby,” Trevor groans, reaching down to stroke himself. 

“Now, please, tell me you two have protection around here somewhere.” Cordell goes to the bedside drawer where Stella’s pointing, telling himself that it’s a good thing his baby girl was keeping condoms on hand. He finds the packet in the drawer, grabbing two, and luckily finds a small bottle of lube, too, which he brings back to the bed with him. He stalwartly does not think about the hint of bright pink he uncovered in his searching that was most definitely a dildo, lodged beside an open packet of birth control pills. 

“You ready to start the real work, son?” 

“Yes, Sir,” the boy groans, shuffling his knees closer to Stella, still between her legs. 

“Woah there partner, not so fast,” Cordell grabs his shoulder and pushes him back down to his hands and knees, ass in the air. “Gotta get you both ready first. You’re gonna follow my lead again, yeah?” Trevor hums an affirmative response. 

Cordell grabs the lube and gets some on his fingers, before tossing the bottle back to the covers. He brings one wet finger to the entrance winking up at him, and traces his fingertip up and down the seam, spreading the lube around before he pushes lightly against the opening, testing its give. It takes a moment for Trevor to relax, but Cordell gets the tip of his finger in eventually. “You gotta relax, boy, let me in. Focus on your girl there, you’re here to make her feel good, yeah?” He sees his curls bounce up and down as Trevor nods and brings his hand back to Stella’s pussy, drawing his finger through her slick before he pushes his middle finger in. 

Cordell continues to pump his first finger in and out of Trevor’s ass, feeling the boy loosening around him, until he’s ready for another finger. He pulls out and adds more lube, before bringing the digits back and pushing two slowly but firmly back in. “Start to stretch her out now, add another finger in.” Stella whimpers when Trevor draws out and re-enters her with two fingers this time. 

“Feel good darlin’?” Stella nods, locking eyes with her daddy. “I bet she’s nice and tight, ain’t she, son?”

“Yes, Sir,” Trevor pants, forehead resting against his left forearm. He seems to really be enjoying Cordell’s fingers in his ass. “She’s so fuckin’ tight. F-feels good.” 

“Try to fit another finger in there, stretch that pussy out real good f’me.” Cordell punctuates his statement by adding more lube and a third finger into Trevor’s opening, and the boy can’t contain his groan of pleasure at the thicker intrusion. 

“Fuck,” he moans, pushing a three fingers into Stella, who is dripping enough to make a spot on the sheets beneath her. She lets out an answering moan and bucks her hips up into Trevor’s hand. 

“Oh, looks like someone’s getting a little greedy, huh baby?” Cordell smirks down at his daughter, writhing on the bed, hair splayed out around her like a wreath of flames. She whines at him in response, pushing down into the fingers inside her again. “You think you’re ready for a cock, baby girl? Want your boyfriend to fill up that slutty little hole you got there?”

“Yes, Daddy, please,” she mewls, thrusting her hips again. 

“What about you, huh? Think you’re ready f’my cock?” Cordell chooses his moment well, and intentionally strokes over Trevor’s prostate when he asks the question, prompting an answering ‘fuck yes’ out of the boy. “Good answer.” 

Cordell opens one condom packet and rolls the thin barrier over Trevor’s dick for him, running the extra lube from his hand over the covered member once he’s down, then quickly rips into the second packet and rolls it on himself, before grabbing for more lube and drizzling it over himself and the tight little hole he’s about to fuck himself into. 

Trevor shifts up the bed so he’s pressed against Stella and he can run the tip of his cock through her slick folds. She pushes back against him lightly, but waits for her dad’s say so, still. Cordell ruts himself along the crack of Trevor’s ass, teasing. When the tip of his cock catches against the boy’s rim, he lets out a hiss. 

“Okay, you ready Stels?” She nods up at him. “Alright, if you need to stop you can just say, baby.” She nods again. Cordell gives Trevor a swat on the ass to indicate he should move. The muscles in his back clench as he pushes the head of his cock inside of the wet heat he’s surely been dying to get to all night. Stella’s face scrunches up as he drives himself steadily deeper inside of her, until he’s pushed in as far as he can go. Both teens let out choked moans at the feeling of finally being this wrapped up in one another. 

“Give ‘er a minute to get used to the feel of you, stay real still,” Cordell presses the head of his cock against Trevor and thrusts in shallowly, easing himself along with soft grunts, listening for any sounds of discomfort, but all he hears from the boy beneath him are small groans of pleasure. Once he’s inside, he smooths his hand up and down Trevor’s back giving him a moment to adjust as well. 

His first thrust in is shallow, but it drags the head of his cock right over Trevor’s prostate and the jolt of pleasure it sends up his body grinds him forward into Stella, drawing a moan from her. She bucks up into Trevor, forcing him deeper inside of her and simultaneously pushing him back onto her daddy’s cock. 

“That’s it, baby girl,” Cordell groans, thrusting harder into the tight heat wrapped around him, “show us how much you want it. Show us how greedy that little pussy is, sweetheart.” 

“Fuck!” Stella pants, arching into Trevor’s hips and grinding her clit against him. 

“Shit, you look so good like that darlin’. Looks so good with a cock inside her, doesn’t she?” 

“Fuck yeah. Feel so good, baby, fuck,” Trevor isn’t able to move much, being pinned between Cordell and Stella, both fucking themselves harder and harder into him, but he thrusts back against Stella with push of her daddy’s dick inside of him. Cordell’s impressed the kid’s lasted this long without busting his nut yet, considering the amount of stimulation he’s currently being subjected to, and Stella looks like she’s about to tip over the edge again along with him. He fucks into them even harder, pace quickening with each piston of his hips, and he hears Stella’s whimpers climb higher and higher as Trevor is pushed into her faster with each thrust. 

“You wanna cum again, sweetheart? Gonna cum all over that cock inside you like a good little slut? Yeah? You gonna be Daddy’s good little girl?” Cordell’s taunts push Trevor over his edge and he stutters in his pace, his ass clenching around the cock still fucking him as he cums inside Stella with a broken groan. Irritated, and on the cusp of his own orgasm, he pulls out of Trevor and throws him off of his daughter. Stella whines at the loss, and he can see her pussy clenching around the emptiness. “S’okay, baby girl, Daddy’s gotcha.” He pulls his condom off quickly and ruts his cock through Stella’s folds to ease his way when he pushes inside her. She’s so tight and warm and wet, Cordell knows he won’t last long himself, but he can wait until he’s taken care of his little girl, first. 

“Oh god, Daddy, please,” Stella moans, pressing her hips back into the cock inside her, clearly relieved to be filled up again. 

“Yeah, that’s it, honey, you fuck yourself real good on my cock. Want you to cum so hard, okay baby? Be Daddy’s perfect little slut, yeah?” Cordell lifts Stella’s ankles over his shoulders and begins a punishing pace, raking over the sweet spot inside her faster and faster on every thrust. Stella’s breath is coming in gasps so short he’s not sure she can even breathe. “C’mon baby girl, cum for your Daddy. Want you to cum for me before I fill you up. Gotta take care of you first darlin’, so c’mon, cum for me.” 

Stella turns her head into her pillow and screams her release, her whole body shaking as she cums, her walls clenching hard around the cock inside her, giving Cordell exactly what he needed to fall over the edge. He seizes up bent over Stella, her legs dropping to his sides and her arms curling around him, like he was an anchor keeping her from drifting away into nothing. A small kiss placed on her forehead, and a whisper of ‘good girl, baby’, and Cordell pulls himself out slowly, groaning at the sight of his cock laced with the white of their climaxes. He flops to the side of the bed and happily makes room for Stella when she curls into his side, drawing her fingers through the hair on his chest, seemingly lost in thought. 

“What’s on your mind, Butterbean?” Cordell asks, worriedly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead.  

“Just thinkin’,” she smiles serenely. 

“About…?” 

“About how I’m never bringing a boyfriend home to meet you again.”

“Why? So you can steal them for yourself?” Jared grins.

“No, so I can tear them in half before I fuck you in them,” Jensen whisper-growls into Jared’s ear so no one else can hear him. Jared goes bright red, checking no one is near enough to overhear them. “What, you embarrassed baby boy? Don’t want everyone around here knowing a big, strong guy like you lets himself get fucked in the ass every night?” Jared is pretty sure he’s stopped breathing. “Don’t want them to know what a little whore you turn into the second I get you alone and on your knees?”

“Jesus, Jen, fuck,” Jared gulps and steadies himself, trying to get a handle on the erection that is starting to push a little too insistently against his zip. “Shove the dirty talk, will ya? We’ve got a whole other scene to film before they let us outta here.”

“So is that a yes to buying whatever I pick out?” Jensen smirks.

“Yes, fine,” Jared concedes and sinks back in his folding chair. “Just nothing pink, yeah?”

“Oh, I am one hundred percent buying you the pink ones now,” Jensen grins and Jared drops his head into his hands. Why is his boyfriend such a doofus?

Their little exchange is all but forgotten until Jared drops by his trailer and sees Jensen waiting on the steps for him, brown cardboard box in hand.

“Terri dropped off a package for you,” Jensen waves the box around in case it hadn’t been obvious to Jared what he meant. “I told her I’d be sure to give it to you,” he grins. Jared’s heart skips, knowing exactly what is in that box. Well – not exactly what is in the box. He knows everything he added to his cart before Jensen got hold of his phone, but Jen hit ‘purchase’ before he passed it back, and deleted the receipt, so there was no way for Jared to figure out what Jensen had ordered.

“Why do I feel like there’s a decent chance you’ve hidden a bomb in here,” Jared asks as he gingerly takes the package from Jensen and pushes into his trailer.

“Because you’re weird,” Jen laughs, staying on the pavement. “They need me for blocking checks but we’re done in time for dinner if you’re free?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Jared nods.

“And, Jar–” Jared turns back around at Jensen’s call. “I count on seeing you in those tonight.”

“Which ones?” Jared calls back, a feeble attempt at a joke.

“Oh, you’ll know which ones,” Jensen laughs, and Jared can feel the hunger in it. He gives Jared a perfunctory salute and makes his way back to the soundstage, leaving Jared with his new package.

As soon as the trailer door is shut, Jared tears into the box. The relief he feels upon not seeing any pink is immediate, but it’s closely followed by suspicion about what Jensen actually did buy him. He quickly skims through the items and finds the culprit – a pair of black briefs that are really testing the limit of the definition of ‘briefs’. Jared is positive that these will barely cover any part of his body, and when he tries them on a few minutes later, his suspicions are confirmed. He looks like a hooker in a g-string. Almost certain that he is going to regret this later, Jared pulls his jeans back on over the new underwear and gets redressed.

When Jared and Jensen stumble back into their shared apartment later that night, very much worse for wear courtesy of the new whiskey bar downtown that Misha recommended to them, Jared had mostly forgotten that he’s wearing ridiculously skimpy underwear. Jensen, on the other hand, hasn’t been able to get the image of Jared in the tight black briefs he’d bought him out of his head – and now he wants to see if the real thing measures up to his imagination.

“Right, J-rod,” Jensen claps once to get Jared’s attention and points to their bedroom, “bedroom, strip, now.”

“Romantic Jay,” Jared grins dopily but does as he’s told.

“Trust me, ain’t nothing romantic about what I’m planning on doing to that ass of yours,” Jensen laughs and follows Jared, catching the recently-shed flannel Jared flings down the hallway at him.

“Bettin’ on it,” Jared smiles, stripping out of his t-shirt in the doorway to their room and dropping it to his feet. Jensen can see the waistband of Jared’s underwear peeking above his jeans, the little ‘SAXX’ right in the centre of the deliciously cut vee of Jared’s hips. Jensen wants nothing more than to run his tongue along the line straight to Jared’s cock – and then he realises there’s nothing stopping him, so he drops to his knees in front of his boyfriend and does just that. He drags his tongue across Jared’s skin, smiling when he hears his intake of breath, and moves lower and lower until he reaches the ‘SAXX’ label and sucks it into his mouth. Jared jumps when Jensen lets it go and the elastic snaps back against his stomach. “Jerk,” he whines.

“Shuddup ‘Sam’,” the intonation is heavy in Jensen’s words and he drops into his ‘Dean’ voice, grinning as he undoes the button and zip on Jared’s jeans, tugging them down harshly and leaving him bare except for the skimpy underwear. “Unless you want me to make you my bitch tonight?” Jensen uses his Dean voice again as he leans into mouth against the erection straining in Jared’s briefs, the black cotton bulging so much Jensen’s surprised Jared actually fit himself inside them in the first place – now he was hard they barely cover anything.

Jared moans at the feeling of Jensen’s mouth against his cock. Something about getting sucked off through fabric always hits a bit differently than just having someone’s mouth on your dick, and right now, with Jensen suckling intently on the tip of his dick through his briefs, this is hitting exactly the right spot for Jared. “Fuck,” he whimpers, threading his fingers through Jensen’s hair, “Jen, you know if you want me to be your bitch, all ya gotta do is ask,” Jared pants, looking down to meet Jensen’s eyes, which are smirking up at him from where he still has his lips wrapped around Jared’s dick.

Jensen pulls off of Jared with a grin and gets to his feet. “Yeah I know, baby boy,” he coos and pulls Jared in for a heated kiss, tongue pushing its way between Jared’s lips, hot and wet. “Now, be a good little bitch and go get yourself ready for me, yeah?” Jensen smirks as he watches Jared nod and trip over his own feet in an effort to get to the bed quickly. He gets the lube out from the nightstand and goes to take off his underwear but Jensen hurries over to stop him. “Nuh uh, sweetheart. Keep those on for me,” Jensen orders with his hand clenched around Jared’s wrist.

“Sure,” Jared gulps, wide eyed, and moves his now slick fingers behind him and sneaks his hand beneath the waistband of his briefs to find his entrance. Jensen watches Jared hungrily as he fingers himself open, undressing all the while; plaid, then t-shirt, then jeans, then boxers – all one by one dropping to the floor. Jared moans when Jensen starts to stroke his own cock, admiring the drop of precum that’s already spilling over the dark pink tip. “C-can I?” Jared stutters, eyes locked on Jensen’s fingers moving slowly up and down himself.

“Yeah, c’mere baby,” Jensen kneels on the bed and shuffles closer so Jared can reach him with his mouth. The second he’s near enough, Jared sucks Jensen between his lips, running his tongue along the underside all the way to the hilt, until his nose is pressed snuggly against Jensen’s hip. “Fuck, forgot how much of a cockslut you are when you’re drunk,” Jensen chuckles deeply, combing Jared’s hair back off his forehead so he can watch him start to move up and down on his dick. “That’s it baby. Shit, your mouth feels so good,” he groans, closing his eyes and bucking his hips into Jared’s eager throat. “Such a good little slut letting me fuck your mouth while you finger that ass open for me. Got you wrapped around my little finger don’t I, bitch?” Jared moans around the cock in his mouth but Jensen doesn’t let up enough for him to get a proper answer out. “Yeah, thought so,” he scoffs.

Jared hums and moans around Jensen’s cock as he continues to finger himself. He’s definitely stretched and slick enough now, but he loves the feeling of Jensen using him like this, so he’s not gonna stop until Jensen tells him that’s what he wants him to do. After a few more minutes of Jensen fucking his throat, Jared feels him start to tense and jerk, and he knows Jen is close.

“Stop, stop, fuck baby,” Jensen groans, pulling Jared off his cock by his hair, and drawing a whine from the younger man. “Don’t want me to cum before I get the chance to fuck that ass, do you?” Jared shakes his head weakly, still pushing his fingers lazily in and out of his hole. He whimpers when he pulls his fingers out, and Jensen smirks down at him as he tries to once again take off the pair of SAXX. Jensen catches Jared’s wrists and holds them behind his back, pushing him onto his stomach. “I didn’t say you could take those off,” he growls against Jared’s ear, nipping at the skin and pulling another whimper out of him. Jensen sits up, keeping Jared’s wrists pinned in one of his hands while he reaches for the lube with the other to slick up his cock. “Your ass looks so good in these baby, look like such a little tease.” He lands a harsh slap against Jared’s backside, making Jared jump and cry out. “Imagine if all those fans saw more than just the label peeking out over your jeans, saw what a big man whore you look like with nothing but these on.”

“Jen, please,” Jared groans, humping against the bed to try to get some kind of friction or relief. “You want me to beg, I’ll beg, please for the love of God, put your cock inside me.” Jensen just laughs and spanks Jared again, even harder this time. “C’mon Jen, please, need you,” Jared pants, looking over his shoulder to catch Jensen’s eye. The desperation on his face is clear as he moans – “Need something inside me, please Jay.”

“You need something inside you baby boy?” Jensen sympathises, relinquishing his grip on Jared’s wrists, but the look of mischief in Jensen’s eyes makes Jared nervous.

“Yes, fuck, please,” Jared begs again.

“We can fix that,” Jensen smirks, reaching forward to grip just under the waistband of Jared’s briefs and wrenching the seam apart, the underwear ripping easily under Jensen’s violent influence. Pieces of the briefs come away in Jensen’s hand and he grins, getting an idea. Eyeing the shine of Jared’s hole, Jensen gathers some of the lube leaking out and smears it over the cotton, which is already damp with lube and Jared’s precum where his cock had been leaking. Bunching up the sopping cloth, Jensen pushes a finger into Jared to check he was still adequately open, then he shoves the torn material inside.

Jared chokes on his moans in surprise at what he’s feeling. The ball of cotton is pressing just against his prostate and it’s a very weird sensation but he can’t deny it feels good. “Fuck Jen,” he groans, pushing off his stomach and onto his hands and knees. Jensen lets out his own groan when he sees Jared’s hole winking up at him, showing him glimpses of the black cotton he’d just shoved inside him. He ruts his cock along the seam of Jared’s ass, catching the tip on the edge of his hole and dragging groans from both men. Jensen can’t hold himself back anymore, and he finally pushes himself into Jared, moving agonisingly slowly to tease the younger man as much as possible.

“You dick,” Jared pants, dropping his head to rest against his arms and pushing his hips back into Jensen’s cock, forcing him the rest of the way inside.

“Someone’s eager,” Jensen tries to keep his tone light, but now that he’s inside Jared, who keeps clenching his ass around his cock in an effort to get him to do something, he’s lost the majority of his composure.

“Just fucking fuck me already,” Jared hisses, bucking his hips back again. Jensen is tempted to make Jared wait, and beg for it – tease him until he’s crying in desperation – but he knows even he won’t last that long. As he draws out and snaps his hips back in, the tip of his cock brushes against the cotton he’s shoved into Jared and the sensation is electrifying. The little bit of slick friction just on the tip of his cock every time he fucks into Jared is so fucking good, he can’t get enough, and his pace turns frantic quickly. “Fucking hell, fuck yes,” Jared moans beneath him, spurring him on even more. “You fuck me so fucking good baby, shit, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’–” Jared’s words trail off into unintelligible whimpers as Jensen pounds into him mercilessly.

“Yeah, fucking love how good you take it baby. Gonna cum on my cock like a good little whore? My good little bitch, huh?” Jensen grits out breathlessly, draping himself over Jared’s back and angling his hips so he knows he’s dragging his cock over Jared’s sweet spot with every push in.

“Fuck, please, please,” Jared whimpers, turning his face to Jensen’s and clumsily trying to press their lips together. “I– I’m.. fuck,” Jared keens and Jensen growls his approval against his ear.

“C’mon, cum for me baby boy, wanna feel you cum,” Jensen snarls and he feels Jared let go, his hole spasming around Jensen’s cock as he empties himself in long white ropes onto the bed beneath them. Feeling Jared lose control is all that Jensen needs to go over the edge himself. He finally lets himself cum, grunting as he slams his hips into Jared one last time and stills, the tip of his cock pressed against the ball of black cotton still nestled inside Jared, now covered in Jensen’s cum. That thought brings a satisfied smirk to Jensen’s lips.

When their breathing has settled, Jensen carefully pulls out of Jared and rolls off of him, collapsing on the bed. Jared drops on top of him, nestling into Jensen’s chest and giving him a small kiss.

“That was really hot Jen,” Jared smiles drunkenly – though whether he’s drunk on whiskey or his orgasm, Jensen can’t tell.

“Just like you, baby boy,” Jensen says softly, kissing the top of Jared’s head.

“But,” Jared says shiftily, glancing up at Jensen.

“But?” Jen prompts, defensively.

“How am I supposed to get this fucking underwear out of my ass?”