xinya

all the while, sitting but a feet or so away, was your poor brother. hardened cock weeping as he whined. begged. even for just a lick or a taste of his adorable sister.

but your daddies—especially jack—was not the kind to forget such an indiscretion. not when it meant that their sweet little innocent girl was willing to disobey just to help your supposed horny brother.

“look at your brother,” jack spat, condescending the young man while his cock twitched and ached—untouched but not forgotten—from between his legs. “fucking ruining my carpet with his stupid seed.”

the degradation—the very sight of your brother kneeling on the floor, legs spread with his cock standing at attention, merely sitting and not even joining—was enough to make you beg on his behalf. to put him out of his horrible misery.

still, how could you speak when your mouth was full?—when your mouth is being used? not when robby was still pumping his entire dick into your mouth and hitting the very back of your throat. knowing very well that come tomorrow, your voice will be deliciously hoarse.

“let him ruin the carpet. ain’t letting him stick that dick of his back into my sweet girl’s cunt. not after last time.” robby grunted, shoving himself until his entire pelvis was all that you could see—the smell of his musk, his sweat now clouding your mind and lingering senses. until it all bubbled you into wonderful submission.

“i-i’m so-sorry, sir—ple-please—” dennis stuttered—inevitably speaking out of turn—and only to be met with a withering glare from both his handlers. silencing him within the very instant he opened his mouth.

scoffing, robby then pulled himself out of your languid throat, slapping his sopping dick upon your face while you chased for breath. wet from your messy slobber, his heated skin smeared it all across your cheeks. the humiliation now staining your skin.

“please what, boy?” robby arched a brow, that steel in his gaze enough to make your cunt clench and for dennis’ already swollen cock to fatten impossibly further.

“fu-fuckk..” jack’s hips stuttered, feeling that sudden blissful resistance from within, driving himself back further. relishing how it gripped him tight like a wanton, little vice.

“i-i’ll do anything!!—please! j-just need to be inside!” dennis begged—his voice becoming pitched at the end of his pleas as he watched how jack now plowed with a furious vigor. one that had you mewling like some poor puppy in horrible heat. how he needed to be inside you so much. to relieve that ache from within while he rutted in you until you peed.

“h-hurts s’much, si-sir…”

at his daring begging, robby then smirked. almost amused at the thought that his little boy would even think that by pouting both he and jack will show leniency.

shaking his head, robby then chuckled. his thumb slipping inside your trembling lips as he pried them open to the shape of his cock.

“you ain’t getting any until your father and i are done with your sister.”

with that, robby then circled the tip along your mouth before plunging inside.

and for hours on end, without even a single moment of cessation, your two handlers fucked with the vigor that belied their age. spilling their seed until both you and they have lost count.

position soon changed, with you now lying on your back with robby now fucking inside your used pussy while jack plowed through your throat. hands wrapped around to both choke and add some much needed pressure for him to enjoy.

you must have lost your mind by then. with thoughts subsiding into a euphoric, submissive cloud. where nothing lingered but pleasure and want.

and like the good little girl that you were, you allowed yourself to be all pliant and willing to their every whim. whatever position, however rough or quick. you laid there and took it like their little champ.

all the while, dennis kneeled on the floor, watching. knuckles pale at his sides and palms bruised with various shapes of crescents that his nails had carved.

mouth salivating. pupils blown.

and at last, the two men pulled themselves out from your cute little holes. their seed seeping from both the entrance of your fluttering cunt and at the corners of your swollen lips.

all ruined. all used.

dennis then waited. breathing now still as adrenaline rushed through his veins. waiting for permission. even the slightest inclination that both his handlers were willing to let him have their seconds.

like some mutt begging its owner for scraps.

jack then looked to robby—a subtle tilt in his head, asking the other man if their boy deserved to sink his dick into your used cunt.

robby then looked to dennis. and with a click from his tongue, the boy then dove onto the floor.

pressing his face into your sweating nape while his swollen cock pressed into the puffed folds of your thoroughly-plowed pussy before pushing himself fully inside.

god, this must be heaven.

and without hesitation, without even waiting for your permission, he started to rut his hips. the desperation ingrained in each canting motion and muffled whine. he could feel himself slipping further into the same clouded, delirious space as his darling sister. the pleasure too much for his broken mind as he started to ramble from pure, frenzied lust.

“fee-feel so good, sis—fuck me!—gonna make sure it sticks, sis.” dennis cried, lifting your legs until it was now resting on his shoulders. folding you into half as your fucked-dumb mind was mewling from the stimulation.

“w-we’re gonna have so-so many little pups—gonna make sure you’re so full with me after shift. during s-shift. do-don’t care if-if sir already came inside, gonna make sure the pup is mine and no one e-else’s.” dennis plowed deep, pushing both your handlers seed deeper and deeper as it soon mixed with his own.

“m-my little sis i-is gonna look so-so cute wh-when she-she’s all round and full. f-fuck me!!—” your poor brother then spilled deep inside, still hooking the underside of your knee while he flipped you on your side, showing his handlers that he will work double time if that meant his little sister would carry his kids.

drooling into the carpet, your lashes fluttered. cheeks reddened and wet as you begged for dennis for more. hips moving with a mind of its own as they went downwards to met his thrusts.

“c-c’mon, s-sis, y-you can cum again right?” dennis then moved his free hand down to your swollen and angry clit, flicking it back and forth with his fingers while he continued his manic mumbling.

“s-say that you ca-can—!” he then pushed himself up and deep, earning a sudden yelp from your lips, “y’know it-it’s better wh-when we cum together! i-increases the c-chances!”

you cried out then, telling your brother that you can’t. begging him to stop as you started to feel something weird start to churn from within.

but clouded with desperation—with his mind now set on some deluded mission—he continued despite your complaints. slamming inside while he continued to rub your clit.

all the while, now seated on the couch, was your two handlers.

all too pleased to watch their pups breed.

and without warning, as you tried to pull yourself off from his stupid cock, you peed.

squirts of clear liquid leaving your cute messy hole while dennis realigned himself and slammed back inside. wasting no time to finish inside while you milked him dry.

his seed spilling into the entrance of your battered womb, joining both your handler’s own spend.

and with a grin that reach from ear to ear, dennis then moved inside. still grinding, still thrusting his now limp cock as he whispered,

“third times the charm. gotta make sure they have my eyes.”

taglist !

@howlingco , @katyainthesheets , @str4wbsstuff , @angel113431 , @squeakymxsterbationcrocks (that’s a fucking hilarious name, wth did i just type) , @immoralreblogs , @xinyaya , @skullz4soulz , @imnolongerasullengirl , @horror-movie--fan

so now here you are, in jack abbot's house, your bosses house. being eaten out against the door. your dress is hitched up to your hips, purse thrown on the floor while he's on his knees—which is definitely not good on his knee—with his nose and mouth deep in your pussy.

he just couldn't wait till you guys got to his room, he's been needing to have a taste of you. and you didn't disappoint at all. as sweet and tasty as he's imagined every night in his bed with his cock in his hand. he really can't believe he's finally tasting you.

“jackkk!” you mewl, hips bucking against his face as your hands tug on his curls. “so good..so fuckin' good baby.” you can hear and feel him say against you. the vibrations almost sending you over the edge. and when he finally pulls away? you whine, chest heaving as you watch him straighten up. “come on lets go to bed..” he grabs your waist, guiding you around his house to his bedroom. internally cussing himself out for not being able to carry you, but he doesn't exactly trust his prosthetic, not after putting a strain on it.

once inside his room, he presses his lips against you. allowing you to taste yourself in his tongue. your hands go up and down his chest, feeling his hard muscles and his tummy. “jack...” you moan out, being awfully needy.

but how you could you not? the same guy that you been fantasizing about since you joined the pitt. “i know sweetheart i know...” he coos into your mouth, gently placing you down on the bed, his thick fingers working on your back to take your zipper down.

you shiver, hands clenching around his biceps. he works slowly, painstakingly so to take your dress off, his eyes trailing up and down your body. once the dress is on the floor, he pulls away to take his shirt and pants off.

you can feel yourself getting wetter by the second. he's so big, thick. you can see his print in his grey boxers. it makes you so weak. he crawls over you, his broad frame covering you almost completely as you wrap your arms around his neck. “ill show you a good night.” he whispers, smirking while placing wet kisses on your jaw and down to your chest.

he doesn't really bother getting you prepared, he did that minutes ago against the door. he simply takes his cock out of his boxers, slapping his tip against your clit. the rush of pride he feels when hearing your tiny gasps is a bit pathetic. but he continues, prodding your entrance with his tip.

“jackieee please please-” you whine, tugging at his hair again. god, you're making him discover new things about himself with the way he gets harder each time u tug at his hair. “stop being such a fuckin' tease..”

he smirks even more, one hand next to your head, gripping the bed sheets. “you dont have to beg me to fuck you,” he slams into you, burying his face into your neck. “im going to.” you gasp against his shoulder, nails clawing at his back. his pace is relentless from the start, working his mouth against your neck while pounding into you.

if you werent already dumb down by his cock, you would think you're in heaven with the way he's moaning, whimpering and groaning into your ear. it doesn't help that he's incredibly warm, so you're actively going limp in his arms while he fucks you.

“god sweetheart im so–” he lifts his head up, rough hand wrapping around your neck. you moan louder, eyes rolling back. a breathless laugh escapes his lips, dropping his head back beside your head. “you're so fucking tight baby. i can feel you squeezing me.”

you moan in response, hands leaving his back to wrap around his wrist. “you want my cock that bad, baby? tell me how bad you want it.” he's talking so filthy, he's never talked like that. not with his wife (may she rest in peace) or with the random girls he hooked up with after his wife's passing.

you babble, you fucking babble because you're so fucked out. “dirty girl...” he breathes against your cheek, face smooshed against yours. he's sloppy now, chasing your and his orgasm while trying to keep his composure enough to keep talking to you. “squeezing my cock like a good girl. such a good girl, my girl.”

he groans, unwrapping his hand around your neck to pull you closer into his arms. your face smooshing against his chest for him to be able to hold you as he pleases. "i can feel you squeezing me. you're close, arent you baby?”

you nod helplessly against his chest, nails digging into his sides as your moans turn muffled against his chest. “come with me, together.” with one final, sloppy thrust, you both come. the room is filled with whimpers from both of you, the bed stops creaking as he peppers kisses against yours forehead.

“you did so good, so good sweetheart.” he whispers against your forehead, slowly pulling out of you. his seed spills out of you, his fingers scooping it up to put it back inside. “you took me so well.” he continues praising you, causing you to smile. although very weakly.

you're both lucky you're on the pill, with how much he released into you you're sure you could've gotten pregnant immediately. he raises his head, rough, clammy hand brushing your hair out of your face. “dont get soft on me, old man.” you let out weakly, trying to regain energy.

“soft on you?” he says roughly, spreading your legs again, hooking them over his shoulders. “i told you ill show you a fun night, didnt i?” he leans down, causing you to whimper.

sometimes you and dennis liked sneaking off to the fields when your respective families were peacefully in dreamland, not having a clue of what you two were up to. dennis would push his dads pick-up truck far enough from his house so nobody could here the engine rumble. he’d park outside of your house and watch you with hearts eyes as you slipped out the front door. he always thought you looked beautiful no matter what; he didn’t care if your curls were messy, if your clothes were lazy, if you were barefaced. only beauty in his eyes. you were out the house in a oversized jacket and a pair of old shorts—he knows that you hate those shorts, but they must’ve been the only thing you could find as a replacement for your pjs. but he didn’t care. he loved all of your clothes.

when you met eyes, the smile on your faces was uncontrollable. you put a pep in your step and dashed to the truck, swung the door open and hopped inside. “hi, denny,” you murmured softly, looking over to the round-eyed boy with a matching sense of adoration coursing in your energy. “h-hi.” he stammered. of course, he did. even after knowing you for most of his life, he still got nervous. “c’mon, let’s go. we have to be fast or they’ll notice,” you said, placing your hand on his thigh and giving it a light squeeze. the pressure, your touch, and the sweetness of your voice makes dennis’ dick twitch in his sweatpants. he nodded and says “you’re right. can’t be out for too long.”

the short trip is mostly quiet. it never seemed like dennis and you had much to talk about when you were alone with each other. just the comfortable silence of the shared company. it was like you ran out things to talk about…or the things you had to say were to embarrassing to speak out loud. you would’ve talked about how good he made you feel the other day, but the words only get caught in your throat. dennis would bring up how badly he wanted to touch you and have all of you as his, but he’d just smile at you instead, letting the blush completely overpower the paleness of his cheeks. when you got to your destination, it’s like a sense of relief washed over you both. the tension was soon to be released and let out into the night sky.

like the gentleman he is, dennis hopped out the truck first and opens the door for you. your hand clasped into his as you stepped out into the grass. you dragged him behind you, walking to a spot to settle down for the evening. dennis could hear his heart beat in his ears. it’s not like you’ve never done this before, but the excitement was always overwhelming. he never knew how your moments would end. the newness was one of his favorite things about being with you. living in the lively town of broken bow was predictable. he had the same tasks of the farm, the same shit from his brothers at the same time everyday, he went to church at the same time on the same sunday—his weeks felt like groundhogs day. a never ending repetitive cycle. but you made life different. a staple that he wasn’t losing his damn mind. your lives together was spontaneous and thrilling. knowing that you guys could get in trouble at any minute was scary, but it was part of the fun. and at least he could get in trouble with you.

the grass was plush underneath your body. natures cushion kept you comfortable for the time being. you looked up at the starry sky, pretending like you haven’t snuck away for one reason. dennis looks at you like you’re the stars themselves, lashes fluttering at the way you glow. “you’re the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen…” he whispered, lifting a hand to stroke your cheekbone. his physical sentiment is slightly hesitant, but your hand cradles his as an act of encouragement. “you don’t be mean that,” you huff out a soft laugh, still not looking him in the eyes. dennis hates that. “look at me,” he ordered, but it comes out as a gentle ask. you give in, letting out a sigh as you turn your head toward him. “i mean it more than anything in the world. i swear.”

getting between you legs, he kissed you passionately. he got better at kissing every time you guys committed the act—at least you think so. dennis was the first boy you’ve ever kissed, touched, loved. all of him was normal to you. how it was supposed to be. dennis panted into your mouth, mumbling your name every time he pulled away and joined again. your fingers had a life of their own, traveling up and down his broad shoulders, up his shirt and raking his soft tummy. he whimpers at the sensation. “th-that—feels nice,” he said between the kisses, gripping onto your thighs and wrapping them around his torso so you’re slotted together. “i-it does? you want more?” you asked with excitement. you were always ready to make him feel good however you could.

“let’s..lets do this first, okay? c-can take off your shorts?” he always asked despite you telling him he didn’t have to. you nodded softly, lifting your hips so he could remove your bottoms. you winced when the cool night air hit the wet patch of arousal. “you okay?” dennis asked, big hands going up and down your thighs to sooth whatever was wrong. “yea, just a little cold.”

“don’t worry, this’ll warm you up,” he smiled, bordering along a sense of confidence. unfortunately, he hadn’t savored it before he needed to awkwardly shimmey out of his pants, but at least he got to hear your giggle.

finally, the two of you were bottomless out in the open. it would’ve been a lie if you said you weren’t terrified of being caught, but denny kissed the thoughts away. he was back between your legs, kissing you breathless as he grinds slowly against your clothed-cunt. the contact made you both gasp in unison, holding onto each other for dear life before dennis hardly got started. then, he rolled his hips again. he was already wet, sticky pre-cum seeping through his boxers and making it easier for him to work. dennis whimpered softly with you, head falling into the crook of your neck as he built up a rhythm that had you both making loud noises of pure pleasure. dennis tried his hardest to not swear, but he can’t think of any other words that’ll express how good he feels between your legs. against your sex. “shit—oh, g-god!” he gasped into your neck, hips rolling against your rapidly. he was going too fast, but it was the perfect speed for the pent up desire you and dennis have kept in for a time too long for comfortability. you had a problem with forming coherent words when you and dennis had your moments together. all you did was whimper and moan. you were slight jealous of den’s ability of expressing himself during it, even if he was using forbidden words.

you were close, he was close. dennis had been holding back for you. he hated coming too early. it felt mean. why would dennis want to be mean to you? so he kept it to himself for as long as he could before moaning out a loud, “m’close—fuck—so close.” you wrapped your arms around his neck and pull his impossibly close, mumbling words of agreement. maybe they were word, but dennis understood and that’s all that mattered. you both came together, sounds of love being let out for anyone to here, but no one else heard as far as you guys are concerned. they were just for each other to hear.

his attention then returned to your ass, cupping the fat as he massaged the reddening swell.

“he-he was hard! i-i just wanted to help..” you squeaked without thinking, soon realizing that you were now in deeper shit than before.

because dogs don’t speak unless spoken to. and abbot wasn’t talking to you. wasn’t even looking to you.

and when his gaze settled on your now worried face, the man smirked.

because prior to this, dennis had been placed in that horrible cage—a punishment for an earlier crime—wearing nothing but that same pair of briefs and a shirt. and the poor boy had been whimpering for hours, his cock weeping through the slit of his underwear, horny like a mutt in heat.

and you were the kind little pup who wanted to help their big brother, wanted to offer your cunt so his cum won’t have to be spilled on the cage floor.

cause that would be such a waste, and it’s never good to put such things to waste.

“really?” abbot chuckled, the sound rumbling from his throat as his roughened palm squeezed your now sensitive ass, “so you thought it was fine to let your brother out from his cage? so what? so his stupid cock won’t be lonely?”

clicking his tongue, his hand then cracked on your ass once more—harder this time—as the pain made your lungs swell and expand. the sound now echoing through the living room walls.

“expected more from you, sweetie. you’re supposed to be the smart one.” he said as he grasped at your jaw, making you meet his gaze.

tears were now streaming down your cheeks, skin as red as your now abused ass,

“t-thought i-i was helping, sir… he-he—“

SMACK!

and you cried out once more, body now shaking from both the pain and the impact—throat becoming more sore,

“i-i’m so-sorry, sir.. pl-please..”

but the older man had no mercy in his gaze, even as he watched those tears trickle from your cheeks. watched as your bottom lip quivered and your breath hiccup.

“dennis.”

abbot called, earning your brother’s immediate attention—back straightening in hopes that he could relieve you from his wrath.

“briefs off. now.”

and without hesitation, the other man stripped himself until he was bare, his hardened cock standing at full mast—your own gaze attached to the swollen tip.

he stood there for a moment, waiting for abbot to tell him to sit. and when he was given the command, he then went back on his knees, sitting on the heels of his feet. obedient as ever.

but before abbot could continue his discipline, the door to the house opened, with robby walking in from his shift.

the man was in his usual mood, somewhat cheerful since he was home, but that immediately shifted when he saw what was happening in front of him.

his cute little girl laying across his husband’s lap, ass beaten red and his boy kneeling on the floor naked.

it seems that abbot didn’t even bother to tell him about their most recent act of disobedience.

“hey…” michael greeted, tone cautious as he set aside his bag on the kitchen counter, noticing the clothes strewn across the floor.

your camisole laying near the counter, your skirt near the refrigerator door, and dennis’s t-shirt atop of your discarded socks.

“ahh..” the older man said, looking back to abbot’s expectant gaze.

“guess someone decided to let their brother out of the cage, huh? got lonely or something, sweetie?”

robby then approached the couch where you and abbot have been this entire time, arms now resting on the back cushions as his gaze traveled across your curved spine and your ruined rear.

“n-no, daddy! j-just wanted to help de-denny… was whimpering so much throughout the afternoon and..”

biting down your bottom lip, your tear stained eyes flickered between your handlers.

but robby was quiet. assessing. and letting you continue.

“—and i, uhm… told him that he could… cum inside so he doesn’t have to be so hard..”

at that admission, jack scoffed and shook his head.

and without warning, he then lifted you off his lap and tossed you to the floor beside dennis—the carpet cushioning your fall as the man stood at his full height.

“if you wanna be a little cum bucket so bad, sweetie.” slowly, he undid the buckle to his belt, “then i’ll fill that fucking needy cunt myself.”

glancing over to his husband, jack then cocked his head to the side.

a silent invitation.

and who was robby to decline?

…might write a second parter to this, still unsure.

Jack didn’t expect anything, except for your sleepwarm body, soaking softness and your sweetened scent into his sheets. He was excited — as he is every shift — to shuck off his prosthesis, slip into your embrace, until the exhaustion showered over his every tendon, muscle, and bone.

Day commenced itself on his drive home when the sky birthed the sunrise. Its clouds steeped over in rich strokes of crisp orange and hot-pink blush, and Jack thought of you. Well. He nearly always mused about his sweet girl. You’re a constant visage, veiling over most things that thread through his mind. In particular, Jack wondered what would be covering your skin when he’d arrived home — would it be the shimmering satin pajamas he’d dressed you in before his shift? Or had you shed bare before getting some shut eye? He doesn’t have to ponder long; his truck eats at the concrete, and his commute comes to a close all too soon.

Everything is average when Jack pulls into the driveway. The curtains are drawn taut, barricaded up for the brutal beams of sun. The lawn is coated in a thick blanket of fresh greenery, from when he’d spread grass seeds to sprout earlier in the spring. Jack smiles fondly at the simplicity of his front yard. Because it is simple, and it shouldn’t make him grin so hard, but it does. It was only just weeks ago that you’d sheared up and desecrated the earth around his house. Things were wilted and perished from neglect and previous tragedy. Untamed, until you’d cloven away the barren, upheaved dirt and old weeds, roots and pebbles, and with effort, you’d planted a garden. And those floralities embraced Jack now, each time he returned from a shift — honeyed petals of lillium, swirling within a sea of pink and purple blooms, and a testament of his house becoming yours, too. A house turned home once more.

Jack passes by the full flourish, in full anticipation that you’d be asleep. Deep in slumber, in his sheets. But when the front door is unlocked, the scent of breakfast bacon, maple, immediately imbues through his nose. You’re awake. You’re up. And you’re cooking. At this godforsaken hour, when you should be asleep, not adrenalized when the birds are just beginning to coo and sing, when the dew is just now bubbling on blades of grass, and when he’s just walking through the door from another grueling work shift. You should be beneath the covers, in silk-like pajamas, and soothed by the white-noise ambience you can't sleep without. But you’re conscious and bright-eyed, gracelessly sprinting from the kitchen to greet him as soon as you hear the door unlatch and open. Jack is encased in your hug before he can even speak. Your arms cradle the back of his neck, coiling the silver and auburn curls at the base of his head, still dampened from the shower he took at the hospital post-shift. He sighs, pressing broad palms over the soft satin that shrouds your back. He thinks it’s silly, how much you ground him. Root him in presence and moment, and absolve distress. It’s silly how easy you manage to serenade him, subdue his apprehension, and provide him with something of sate and soothe. He can feel your smile, and his nerves react in a mirrored response.

“hi, dad!” You beam, delved into his chest, and breathing in deep aspirations of his scent.

Jack chuckles at your puerility – it never gets old, how you burrow and seam into his side, as soon as he arrives. “Hey, kiddo… why are you up?”

You don’t respond with the obvious – the one of holiday and the celebratory – you just kiss him on the cheek and grin, gripping his freckled arm to steer him to the kitchen. “i made you breakfast!” You state, in that plaintive folderol manner Jack is all too accustomed to.

“Yeah, I know.” Jack chuckles, the sound all play and sweetness. “Could smell it before I walked through the door.”

He stops walking when he enters the scene. There’s coffee freshly brewing, from a bag you’d caught him inspecting at the grocery store last month – the ‘fancy’ one, with notes of black currant and jasmine, and an exorbitant price tag that he couldn’t justify purchasing. So you did. There are pancakes and bacon, heated maple syrup and scrambled eggs to accompany the cup being made. There’s a bouquet of flowers, because, naturally, a partner as attentive and adoring as Jack deserves fresh blooms gifted to him in appreciation. Beside it is a gift box, tied up in a cerulean ribbon bow, sparkling in the fresh morning light.

Something thrashes in his chest then. Something smothering and thick, that crawls up his throat and into a conspiring, throttling lump that settles itself in a sinus-pulse.

“Baby… wh– what’s all this?” He half chokes on the words, watching you spring up to pour the dark, hot brew into a #1 Dad mug. “You’re supposed to be asleep, not spoiling your old man at dawn.”

“it’s father’s day,” you sweetly say, tossing a smile back to him. “need to celebrate my dad.”

Jack scrubs a hand over his face in an attempt to stifle the emotion that bubbles and boils in his tear ducts. The way you still slough away his defenses and make him bleed such sensitivities. “Oh, kid… You didn’t need to do all this, you know?”

“course i did – you do everything for me. it’s your day.” You shuffle back to him, passing the mug into his palm — black with no sugar, just how he likes.

Your words are like a syringe of the purest sincerity, sugared and sentiment and truth. Because he does do everything, in tutelage and adulation. Jack tranquilizes your tears, from tantrums to anxieties; he’s trialing in restoration and consolation. He’s a caretaker, fundamentally, coaxing your habits for the better. Ones of nutrition and hydration, of proper rest and play. He bears both roles, of the parental and the romantic, of re-raising you in the delicate, dedicated ideal of your partnership. Jack loves you, he wants what’s best for his baby, and he knows precisely how to tend to any plight.

He swallows down the ball in his throat, but it remains fused and furling up more vehemence, even as he feigns complacency.

“Yeah, yeah.” He smiles with slight acquiescence. “I do, kiddo. I know.”

Jack lets you drag him to the dining table, sipping on his extravagant coffee as you serve him his plate with a smile and a kiss.

“You know, Daddy’s supposed to be caring for you. Don’t need my little girl coddling me.”

“don’t give me that – we care for each other." You insist, and Jack sighs with a chuckle. He has no counterpoint there; It's true, you do. There’s no lack or imbalance; you provide for Jack in all the ways he never asks for out loud. And, on this syrup-scented, early Sunday morning, he’s subjugated to face your immense care for him, completely head-on.

“Yeah. Guess you got me there.” He concedes, allowing a smile to tug at his tired lips before gesturing for you to curl up on his spread thighs. “C’mere. Need my baby with me.”

You gleam, tucking yourself into his lap as Jack kisses the crown of your head. “Thank you, little one. Really.” Jack smiles with graciousness, rubbing your back with one hand while the other pokes and feeds a bite of pancake into his mouth.

“of course.. s’it good, daddy?” You inquire, reaching up to kiss and nuzzle into his neck.

“Mm. Delicious. My kid’s gonna get best daughter of the year award at this rate.” You giggle, and Jack squeezes your side. The morning is pursued in all its vicious sweetness – Jack chews, eats, and swallows, and you trace the lines in his face, finger-comb his salt and pepper locks, and purl out the devoted praise and joy you have for him. His heart trusses up and throbs harder in such soft, gentle conversation. Nothing feels warmer or kinder than you in his lap, closest and cradled against him. Where you belong, and where he does, too.

Honeyed sunbeams only just begin to thread through the blinds when you usher Jack into the bedroom for undressing. Your hands tangle beneath his waistband, prising off pants, before lowering to his prosthesis. A kiss is planted on his knee, and you release the pin and the pressure within the device. Your hands gently slip off the socket with intentional and adept ease, and you grab the vitamin-infused lotion to massage the sore muscles and seam of his scar. Jack groans as your fingers tend to the sore, slightly irritated tissue. Your touch and care for his residual limb nearly always elicits a less-than-pure reaction. He can’t help it, not with your hands rubbing below his joint, and creeping up to his thigh to mend where the muscles compressed in stress.

Your sweetness at dawn surely didn’t aid him, either. Neither did your commencing squirms as he finished up breakfast. Jack has been sensitive since, and it’s now suffused itself up through his nerves, residing in sharp spikes of heat to his inner thighs. You don’t notice the hips shifting in attempts to alleviate ache, nor his breaths, growing slightly quicker. You just rub with affection, before flourishing to the pastel gift package he’s still yet to open. The ribbon almost glares back at him in mockery – the only thing he wants to unbox, press fingers in, and spread is you.

“Mm.. That for me?” Jack mutters through half-lidded eyes, glancing down at the gift. The man is currently much more enthralled with the sensuous press of your hands instead.

“mhmm. “s’your father’s day present.” You innocently smile once more, massaging your thumb into a particularly stressed tendon that makes him grunt in pleasure. “wanna open it?” You plead up at him with wide, happy eyes. Jack’s own contrast entirely. The hazel is heated, darker than normal, pooled thick with something more than courtesy or sleepiness.

“Later, baby. I want to just enjoy you for now.” His hand already is curving itself around your smaller wrist, wrapping it up and away from where you’d attempted to quell tension; Apparently, you incidentally just spurred it elsewhere. Jack tugs you gently across the linen sheets, his hands sloping under your satin pajama top to graze your waist. His lips meet yours, gentle and slow. His silvered stubble prickles into your chin when he prods for your lips to part. Obediently, you do, allowing your Dad access as his palms cradle your body firmly. When he pulls away with puffy lips, it’s to mutter between his kisses.

“Want to appreciate my little girl.”

“o– oh..” Your cheeks react in a fierce tint, flustered suddenly from his pronounced desire. You shift, and you find yourself burying your head into his shoulder, shielding yourself from his stare.

“Uh oh..” Jack laughs soft, although his tone is still rasped with arousal. “What are we doing over there?”

“i dunno… just– you're workin’ me up, dada.” You admit, pressing yourself harder against the expanse of his pec.

“Oh, yeah, kid? I’m working you up, huh? How do you think your old man’s felt for the last half hour?”

You don’t respond, flushing worse to such an admission. You weren’t entirely aware of his arousal, of being hard nearly this whole time due to your loving affection. Your Dad’s adverse reaction makes something pulse and swivel down, deep into your little pussy. Jack receives a whine in response.

“No. Words, baby. I taught you better than that.” Jack says, slightly stern, but his voice is dimmed by the rubs along the bare flesh of your back. A means to comfort, because he knows his shy girl needs it.

“you– you want me, dad?” You whimper, lifting your face from his chest.

“Want you?” He reverberates. “Jesus, kid.” His fingers depart from your shirt, gripping your tangibly smaller hand to descend it to his groin. He’s undeniably hard, pulsing through navy blue boxers, bulged and thickened, and you inwardly scold yourself for persistent innocence and your lapse of even noticing. Your fingers press into his cock, eyes drawn and stilled to how filled out and stiff he is through fabric. “Course I want you.”

You exhale a forced huff, shedding off slight reluctance. You start to arch your digits, to dig slightly deeper into his sensitive dick, just to feel his hips twitch. “you want your daughter?” You ask in faux naivety and provocation.

Jack groans through his teeth, clasping your palm harder against where he’s throbbing. He can feel his tip nudge, reacting to the heat and pressure, and the lust for more.

“Fuck. Yeah. I want my daughter. It’s Father’s Day. Like you said.”

Jack doesn’t spare a moment more; he’s pressing himself against you, baring your body undressed and supple against his. Hands tease the peaks of your nipples as he kisses you, heavy and slightly rough. His tongue glides into your mouth, tangling with yours as his lips work in persistent presses to swallow up your whimpers. A praise is offered on his lips when he departs.

“Such a good girl – going all out for your Dad.” You nod, raising hips for your naked, dripping little cunt to make contact with his still-clothed erection.

“Ohhh, look at that.” Jack muses fondly at your all-too-familiar ruts. “Someone’s eager.” His fingers still your hips, pushing you down as you whine, before swathing over to where you’re slickened and reddened.

“Want Daddy inside that sweet little pussy?” Jack grins, rubbing over your wet, weeping slit, feeling your flesh pulse under his touch.

When you nod with whines, and then correct with a verbal “yes, please,” Jack provides. His thumb frictions itself over your eager bundle of nerves, feeling it swell with need during each grind. Two fingers slowly enter your heat — although, your bucking hips make it hard for the plunge to remain seamless and steady.

“There we go. Attagirl, just let me stretch you out. Need to make room for your Dad to fit in.”

His digits curl, pressing into where you’re sticky and throbbing, deep against your walls. Jack knows exactly where to pivot his wrist to get you white-visioned and drooling. You’re nearly there already with each pass he makes, stroking up into your gooey warmth, gentle and coarse all at the same time. Your hole is already fluttering, fervent with want for something more, something filling to frot and pump itself in your sweet, puffy cunt. Right now, it’s prep, so you won’t be so sore or shuddering with pain after, but it’s also too much. For the both of you. Jack realizes too late that his sweet baby is about to cum — he’s been harsh and rushed with his fingers, attempting to stretch you out and slicken you down to your puckered ass. But when your thighs begin their shake, and you start to thrash, he still doesn’t stop. Over and over, up to his knuckles, he drills his finger pads into plush, sensitive muscles, feeling your poor, swollen pussy clench and clasp, molding to his fingers in each expertising press. Your whines pitch louder, shrill and incessant. His thumb welds to your clit, curling in and massaging the bud between each rough fuck of his fingers. “Shh. S’okay, kiddo. Know you’re there. Let me see my daughter cum for me.”

The depravity gets you there entirely. His words are white-hot and bloom into your belly. They spark down your spine and spiral into heat, through to your cunt for your nerves to alight further. With your Dad’s fingers, injected up into your sticky, pulsating pussy, you orgasm, writhing and shaking, looking up at him, hazy-eyed and docile.

“Ohh, there’s my baby.” Jack chuckles. “Bet that felt real good, huh?”

When you nod, he smiles, starting to slip his hand away from your needy hole. Your swelled, sloppy cunt clenches in attempts to keep him deep, but gently, Jack twists his digits free, groaning as he views your wet cream, coated in rivulets on his digits and trickling down his palm.

They pop into his mouth, and he laps at them while pulling off his boxers. His cock twitches in the cold air of the bedroom, reacting and risen with throbs against his lower belly. He’s so hard it hurts. So desperate to drive into his little one’s hot, sloppy pussy. The pressure beats at his base, cascading down to his inner thighs, and stirs at the base of his spine. His balls are weighed with the need to cum already, precum shamelessly slickening down and beading at his trussed and greying pubic hairs. His hands grip your thighs, pressing them up and against your belly, folding you in half to dip his thick dick in as deep as possible.

Jack’s wet, fat tip makes contact with your slit, stretching around where you’re already shivering for more. You’re slippery and warm, and it makes Jack moan with the sensation, your sweet babycunt already attempting to suckle him in. He lets it. In a languid plunge, he impales his cock into his daughter’s pleading hole. You’re still a little too tight, slowly adjusting, but teary-eyed with his thick girth and the unrelenting pressure of him slotting in your sloppy pussy. “That’s it — fuck — That’s Dad’s good baby.”

You’re whining, choking out moans as Jack rubs your bulb of nerves to stifle some of the ache away. It burns all throughout your nerves, puddling in rapid palpitations inside you. Jack thrusts once, without clemency, helpless and eager, and his hand fists in your hair roughly before he forces himself to relax.

“Fuck, kiddo — tight.” Jack prattles out with a hiss, as if he’s fucked dumb from the compress your soft pussy delivers. “So tight.”

He can hear how wet your sodden hole is, sticky and squelching, even with his slow, measured grinds and his hold beneath your thighs. He can feel it too, a rush and glob of arousal, slipping from where you’re connected. Hot and sticky, and he knows it would taste sweet and musked like you, too.

“Love this dribbly little cunt— love it. Love you, baby.” Jack babbles through rasped bursts of breath. His hips roll against yours, tummy to tummy, pressing his forehead to your shoulder as his body shivers. It’s intimate and close, and in an abnegating attempt to not rut into his kid like an animal. His eyes remain closed, clutching you tight, flesh on flesh, until his orgasm forms too fast, from too little time inside you. Jack can't take it; his baby just feels like heaven. He thinks maybe it is. Maybe his salvation is on top of you, under you, any way he can receive what you so blessedly offer him. He’s too close, and he’s going to cum.

He angles his length for his cockhead to pummel into that spongy, sensitive place inside you, rubbing your bulbed clit just to get you to feel as much pleasure as he is. “Feel it? Feel it, baby? Ngnnh— Dad pressin’ on your special little spot?” Jack moans, panting on your shoulder as his pelvis turns unrelenting, feeling the sheath of your pussy pulsate, tighten, and tense for an orgasm.

“Need— need my little girl,” he nearly whines, and the desperation in his voice surrenders you to cum in quivering bucks against your Dad. He coats your insides plentifully, in propulsions of his thick, hot cum, streaming from his slit and stuffed deep into the wet heat of your cunt. It trickles out between your hole and his dick, forced out each time Jack rams into you in aftershock. It’s breathless, defenseless and devoted, and it’s all him. He doesn’t stop until his cock begins to soften, until your eyes peek open with daze. Only then is he able to swallow a proper breath and press a long, hard press of his lips to yours.

“I love you, my daughter.” He says softly, looking into the blank stare of your eyes and parted mouth. You hiccup under him, and he sighs, watching you gather enough sense to talk again in time.

“i— love you too, dad,” you manage in a stammer after a few shudders and gasps. Jack smiles, cradling you to him, kissing your forehead, before delicately prying his soaked, sticky, and flushed cock out from your pussy. He groans with the clasping swallow of your cunt, trying to keep him in, despite knowing he’ll be deep inside once more, in just a few hours, and grunts with exhaustion when the absence of pleasure bleeds into fatigue.

Jack pulls up your limpet, damp and debauched bare form over his chest. Close and secure, encased against him. He rubs over the swells of your spine and bottom cheeks, consoling with comfort, his palms petting lightly into tired flesh. You remain stilled, pressing kisses into the skin you can reach.

Eventually, when you’re ripe to talk again, it’s exuded first in a warm giggle. From where you’re swaddled against his sternum, you reach over for the gift box — still awaiting on the sheets, as if you both weren’t shaking the bedpost minutes ago.

You place it beside you, pressed onto Jack’s chest as a facile, single word, is slipped from your lips, “present!”

Jack sighs, his mouth upturned as a hand departs from your back to open the pastel and ribboned package.

“Really did not have to get me anything. Getting to spend time with my little one is more than enough.”

Nevertheless, he peels open the cover, pulling his bottom lip taut between his teeth when he lifts a practical, silver-banded watch from tissue paper. It’s smooth and cool in his palm, nothing overly sophisticated, but also too extravagant to be inexpensive. It’s more than an upgrade to the faulty black band he’d purchased at Walmart many years ago. The finish reflects, sparkling in the white light of a rising sun behind curtains.

“Kid, this is–” Jack’s eyes meet yours, commiserating and soft, his expression tied between surprise and endearment. The weight of it stills in his hand as he thumbs over the metal. “This is way too nice for an old guy like me. You really shouldn’t have spent so much.”

You smile, shifting up higher against his sticky chest, your hands curling against his sparse, silvering hair. “look on the inside, dada.”

And he does. And against the inner band is a small engraving, cut deep enough for him to gauge without his readers: ‘with love, forever, your little one.’ It’s simplistic, and yet, still achingly sweet. And it’ll always be there, carved into silver, just like you cleaved your way into him. You both are silent except for small breaths, and carefully, you clasp the shimmering band over his wrist, turning the clock-head to watch it properly tick against flesh. Jack just stares at it, and then at you.

“You have no idea how much this means to me, sweetie. Really. It’s perfect.” He smiles, cheek to cheek, his mouth and eyes creasing in those deep, rich lines you adore so much. His freckle-burst biceps curve around you, tucking you closer to his chest. “My perfect girl. Thank you.”

“you like it, daddy?”

“More than like, little girl. Love it. Jesus, I— I didn’t expect all this for Father’s Day, you know?”

“i know but.. if anyone deserves it, it's you.”

Once more, Jack doesn’t have words for you. His softhearted, selfless daughter. Is there a word for being too touched, too enamoured?

“Baby. You’re too sweet to me.” He laughs lightly; the vibration oscillates through your own muscles in the skin-to-skin contact. “I must be raising you right.”

“you are.” You assent, all smiles, planting a kiss on his pink lips once more.

And Jack knows that to be true. You’re his faith, and in the swirling of his heart, in the heat of your hand in his, he knows that this is his heaven. That although unsaid, it’s sacred, warm, and true. It’s endless and bound – preaching, in his gentle paternity, teaching, and providing to you – as a lover, as a father, and a partner.

you hurriedly nodded your head, your throat suddenly felt dry.

"doesn't sound like it, babygirl. you've been begging me for so long," jack shook his head as if he's disappointed in you. "do you want your dad to touch you or not?" his voice firm and commanding, his expression hard and cold — like he was scolding a child.

you licked your lips and cleared your throat to give yourself some time to calm down, "y–yes." you whispered quietly. then you tried again with more confidence, "yes, dad. please, touch me."

the last thing you wanted was to upset jack even further. so when he hummed in approval, something in your chest lifted.

his expression softened, still gently caressing the smoothness of your legs. "is she crying again for me, sweetheart?" his voice was so sweet and his eyes are so kind, you could cry too.

you whined out a, "yes." while jack coos at you, "yeah? poor baby. can i make her feel better? tell me how."

"mhm, she needs your dadcock."

jack froze. oh, that did something to him. he gripped the meat of your thighs, his breathing came out harsh and ragged. fuck.

"we gotta do something about that mouth of yours next time."

he released his hold on you, continuing his ascent as he bunched up the hem of your dress. it revealed your very modest panties to him — lace-trimmed, floral, and a little bow on the front. like a present waiting to be opened.

jack smiled at your choice of garment, fingers tracing the bow, "these are very cute, baby."

"thank you, daddy," you giggled. "you're very welcome."

he was getting ready to pull down your panties when you placed your hand over his to stop him. "wait." jack halted immediately.

concern took over his face. "what? what's the matter?" panic arose in his voice as he looked for signs of anything that he might have done to hurt you in some way.

you worried your lip, looking away from him in embarrassment.

"hey, sweetheart." he cupped your cheek, coaxing you to look at him. "tell me."

you took a few deep breaths before finally coming clean. "i'm not— i haven't—" you slapped both hands to your face, unable to bring yourself to say it.

jack was absolutely floored by the sudden change in your behaviour. he thought real hard about what could have caused it — then it clicked. "are you a virgin?"

silence.

"you are, aren't you?" he scoffed. "all that fuss, huh? trying to be big, but you're not. you're still just a little girl."

your whimpers were muffled beneath your palms. shame overtaking your body. yes, you are a virgin, but jack didn't have to be so mean about it.

"what am i gonna do with you? you've soaked through your panties." he clicked his tongue, then paused. "look at me." despite his harsh words, his grip on your wrists was gentle. you opened your eyes to see him looking at you with understanding, and guilt for how he'd spoken to you.

"i'm sorry, babygirl. dad's being mean, huh?"

"you were." you sniffled with a pout on your lips. "i mean, i liked it when you're being sexy but you were teasing me."

jack let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "alright, i'll keep that in mind. but i'm being serious now, baby. if you wanna stop right now, we'll stop."

"no!" you quickly wrapped your limbs around jack's hips, caging him in place. "been waiting for this, daddy. i wanna feel you already!"

"alright, alright." he soothed you with a gentle hush. "i'm sure we'll figure something out."

jack's cock slid up and down against your cotton-covered slit.

"daaad, please put it in me. oh my god—" it felt fucking good to see his thick, hefty cock and feel it against you, at last. but you needed more.

"behave. this is all you're gonna get for now. you're still too little." he panted as he sped up his movements. he wanted nothing more than to be inside you — he knew you'd be so fucking tight around him, now that you'd revealed you're still a virgin. "just introducing my dadcock to your virgin pussy, hm? get 'em familiar with each other."

jack wanted to pull out his phone and film the way how big his cock looked on you so bad.

he took the next step to thrust his tip into where your opening would be, the gusset acting as a barrier. the action made you moan loudly, the sound echoing around the house. he's so big.

he repeated the same movements, in and out — like he's fucking you.

"that's how it's gonna be, babygirl. gonna have to buy you a toy to play with so you get enough practise — before you get the real thing." he groaned above you, you feel infinite times better than your mother.

the thought of him being the one to take your virginity made him come all over your tummy and panties. it's a lot that it started to drip down onto the sheets. he'd been secretly saving all of his cum for you, he always declined your mother whenever she initiated sex.

he'd have to do laundry before his wife comes home or else he'd be getting an earful about the suspicious stain on her very expensive egyptian cotton sheets. ♡

“You gonna make sure I’m quiet? Make me.” You tease before looping your fingers through his belt loops and falling backwards onto his bed, pulling him down with you. His cheeks were flushed from the sudden attention you gave him upon entering his and Santos’ apartment. His mouth clashed against yours in a playful yet needy way. Like he was fighting back a smile but craving your taste.

You push him away and quickly pull off his shirt letting it fall beside the bed. His lips were back on yours the moment the piece of clothing was gone. Your lips trail down leaving dark marks along his collarbone and chest. His hands move up your shirt leaving a trail of goosebumps where his fingers grazed.

“I want you so bad Denny, need you.” You mutter against his lips making his hips grind down against yours. A quiet whimper leaves his lips as his hand peel off your clothes. His hand dives beneath your panties letting his fingers run through your wet folds. He groans at the feeling of his fingers gliding easily along your cunt.

“God.. you’re so wet..” He whispers to himself as if he is in awe that he can make you this way. His sloppy kisses move down your jaw before reaching your neck. Lightly sucking certain areas feeling how you squirm beneath him with each suck. His fingers run up and down your folds before his middle and ring finger plunge into you. A moan rips from your lips which he quickly muffles with his own. Another messy kiss starts as his fingers slowly thrust into you.

“You’re squeezing my fingers so well.. so perfect.” He praises you between kisses. You notice the way his hips grind into the mattress with each pitiful noise you make. He moves down so his face is settled between your thighs. He looks up at you as if asking for permission to taste you. “Please Dennis..”

He pulls aside your panties and begins lapping up the juices his fingers created. Your moans gradually get louder the more his mouth works on you. His hand reaches up to cover your mouth but his finger end up on your lips. You let his index and middle finger fall into your mouth and begin sucking on them to help distract yourself from being too noisy. His hips stutter against the mattress. He ruts his hips continuously into the bed trying to relieve some tension in his pants.

Dennis moans into your heat feeling the way your tongue swirls around his fingers. He feels the way your moans vibrate against his fingers and it drives him mad. He notices the way your hips begin twitching signaling that you’re close. His free hand moves to your clit where his thumb presses quick circles against it. His tongue works meticulously to drive you over the edge practically moaning as you squeeze your thighs against either side of his head.

You wanted to speak but with his fingers in your mouth all you could do was let out pitiful moans as you release onto his chin. The sight in front of you has your eyes rolling back. His chin was glistening as he pulls away from your cunt with a satisfied grin.

He wipes off your juices before moving to kick off his pants and boxers. He pulls off your panties completely leaving both of you bare. “Please Dennis. I need you inside of me..” Your body squirms still feeling the after effects of your previous orgasm.

“Gonna make you feel good, just gotta stay quiet for me.. can you do that for me?” You nod eagerly just wanting him to be inside of you already. He lines himself up before slowly sinking down. His lips capture yours making your moans go straight into his mouth. He gives a few shallow thrusts before sinking in completely. You pull away breathlessly as you adjust to him.

“You’re so perfect.. so pretty taking me so well.” He presses kisses against your temple as he reassures you. “I’m going to move, is that alright?” He asks as you close your eyes and nod. Slowly enough he begins to set a steady pace which takes your breath away. “Oh fuck Dennis.. mm so deep.. feel so good.” Your words slur together as his cock brings you pure bliss.

“So.. tight shit I’m not going to last long with you squeezing me like this..” He huffs out as his pace increases. His hands palm at your breast needing to feel more of you. Each thrust pulls quiet squeaks and moans from your throat. He can feel it when you start to get close with how you squeeze him.

“Shit I’m going to cum.. fuck..” he curses feeling your legs wrap around him to pull him closer. He moves his hand down drawing tight circles against you flit sending you reeling. “Inside please.. I wanna feel you fill me up Denny.. please.” You beg making him whimper as he speeds up before finally shooting his load into you. The feeling drives you over the edge as your climax reaches at the same time.

He gives you sloppy kisses as the two of your work through your orgasms. Heavy breathing and faint whimpers fills the room as you both come down from your highs. “Holy shit.. god I love you so much.” He stays there for a moment still buried inside of you. Slowly he pulls himself out of you drawing a quiet and unsatisfied moan from you. “I love you too.. let’s get you cleaned up.. I think today’s shift is catching up to me”

3:24 AM

You felt yourself awake before your eyes and mind could even process anything. A low groan sounds from your throat as you shift around feeling a heavy weight around your waist.

You look down and see your boyfriend’s arms wrapped tightly around your body as his soft snores reach your ears. You would’ve taken the time to admire him but the dry feeling in your throat quickly grabbed your attention.

“Hey Denny.. Dennis..” Your hand reaches out to shake the sleeping man but your attempts prove useless as he shifts around and falls right back asleep. You look at his door that taunted you. You knew it was risky going out there alone but you couldn’t stand the scratchy feeling in your throat any longer.

You slide yourself out of bed and grab the nearest article of clothing which happened to be Dennis shirt that was disgarded a couple hours ago. You rummage through his drawers before finding a pair of shorts to slide on. Slowly you make your way out of his room to hopefully find some water.

You tiptoe to the kitchen trying to be as stealthy as possible. Once in the kitchen you rummage through some cabinets to grab a cup when the light comes on startling you into dropping the cup with a loud clatter.

“What the hell are you doing here L/n?” You quickly spin around and see Dr Garcia standing in the entryway. “Garcia? I uh.. just um..” You stand there awkwardly as she examines your clothing and the fact that none of it was your own.

“It was late and Den- Whitaker offered to let me stay here for the night.. I didn’t really have a change of clothes so he gave me this.” You quickly lie and for a moment she looked as if she believed you.

That was until a shirtless Dennis Whitaker walked out of his room with two hickeys very clearly present on his chest. He was still clearly not fully awake as he rubbed his eyes. “Y/n.. why are you up so early I-” He stops talking upon seeing Garcia “Oh shit.” He quickly retreats back to his room. His comes back out pulling a dirty shirt on his body that was clearly inside out.

“What is going on out here?” Suddenly Santos was walking out of her room into the mess that was occurring. Garcia looks at the two of you now picking up what was going on. “You’re sleeping with Whitaker?” She asks making Santos’ eyes widen as a smile reaches her lips.

She sees your flustered look and the way Dennis’ hair was unruly, his face was bright red, and he was down to an inside out shirt and boxer shorts. “It’s not what it looks like!” He quickly defends but Santos just laughs. “Really because I can see those hickies peaking out from your collar and not a single article of clothing on Y/n is theirs.”

You and Dennis share a look knowing you were officially caught. “How long has this been going on?” Garcia questioned making you avoid eye contact. “7 months ago.. we have been dating for 6..” Her and Santos share a look of disbelief.

“Does Robby know? Does Dana?” Santos immediately starts interrogating before you shut her down. “No nobody knows. Technically you two weren’t supposed to know either but I couldn’t wake him up and my throat felt like the Sahara desert… it’s a secret..”

Santos and Garcia share another look that you can’t even begin to decipher. “So you’re saying we are the only ones that know about your top tier secret that you and Huckleberry are sleeping with eachother?” You slowly nod. “Please just promise me that this stays between us?”

Santos and Garcia eventually agreed to keep the secret to the grave. However your next shift proved that someone didn’t keep that promise. Perlah and Princess interrogated you as Frank and Dana teased Dennis. Ultimately Robby had you fill out some forms to make sure that you two would remain professional if anything regarding your relationship happened on shift. Whether that be a breakup or one of the two of you getting hurt. The reaction wasn’t as bad as you had thought it would be but now you knew never to tell Santos or Garcia any secret that you didn’t want the entire day shift knowing.