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lokischocolatefountain · 1 year

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Second Thoughts

Series Masterlist

Fandom: Narcos

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Rating: 18+

Word count: 4.2k words

Summary: Weeks before their wedding, one of them might have second thoughts.

A/N: For days, I have been haunted by this picture of Pedro wearing gold chains and I needed to write this to keep myself from exploding. It’s Pedro’s fault. And I chose Javi for the fic because that slut always has like the first 3 buttons of his shirts undone (like a whore, jezebel, harlot) and it drives me mad to see his neck. Anyway, enjoy 😉

“What’s this?” He took the cigarette back between his fingers to ask. It was his customary post-sex smoke. Something he couldn’t give up on, much like his customary workplace smoke, road rage smoke, morning smoke, post-lunch smoke— you got the idea.

“A dildo.”

Javi looked up at her, eyebrows raised and lips pressed into a thin line. He wasn’t as impressed by her attempt at a joke as she was. But then again, the man was known for his eternal grumpy face. He could be offered a lifetime supply of free whiskey and he would still look like someone ran his dog over.

She rolled her eyes at him. For a man employed by the US government to go after Pablo Escobar, he sure was dumb.

“What does it look like, Pendejo? It’s a gold chain. For you. Happy birthday,” she snapped, pushing the present into his hands.

His brown eyes softened as he took her hand and rubbed circles on her wrist with his thumb. “Querida…you shouldn’t be spending all this money on me. I don’t even wear jewelry.”

“It’s a gift, Javier. And I know you don’t wear jewelry. I just think you should be.”

“Oh?” He asked, head tilted and eyebrows knitting together in curiosity.

“Mhmm. Let me explain to you in terms that your male brain would understand,” she said, getting on her knees on their bed and setting them on either side of his thighs. He looked incredibly beautiful in the dim lighting of their bedroom, golden skin made more gold by the warm streetlights. His hand that was not holding his present came up to her back, his touch gentle despite the rough calluses he’d earned with his years on the force.

She brought her index finger to his chest and traced his collarbones. He had beautiful skin, no matter the scars and the sunspots from all his days running around in the Medellin streets under the sun.

“Seeing you wearing a gold chain would do to me what seeing me in lingerie does to you. It’s like a little sneak peek of what’s inside, you know? Especially because you are a slut who forgets that the top three buttons of your shirts exist and I can see your chest all the goddamn time. It’s a little tease of what lies underneath.”

“Ahh…”

“Finally. He gets it.”

“‘s like seeing your lace bra and a bit of cleavage. I like the cleavage more, but the lace adds to it,” he said, hand lazily grazing the curve of her ass. There was nothing sexual about it or their nudity. They’d already gone at it like rabbits and were done for the night. But it was good to stay bare with him, her lack of urge to cover up adding to the easy intimacy they slipped into post sex.

“Exactly,” she said, taking the gold chain from him. She straddled his lap and looped the gift around his neck before clasping the ends together. He watched quietly, his stoic expression cracking through to reveal a smile when she pulled him towards herself by the chain.

Through lazy pecks of her lips, he said, “So it’s a leash, I see?”

“Maybe,” she smiled as she pulled away. She licked her lips as she took in the sight of him, congratulating herself mentally. It looked better on him than she thought it would. His body was already fucking perfect, well-toned, but the chain made it sexier somehow. The way it sat around his neck and bent when it touched his clavicle, the light hitting it beautifully to highlight it against the pink flush of his skin.

“Looks good,” she added, fingering the cold metal.

“If you say so, Jefa,” he said before taking a drag of the cigarette.

“Well I do say so,” she said, reaching to the back and pulling the pendant to the front to rest on his chest. He looked down at the pendant, eyebrows raised as though surprised to find it there. He took it between his fingers and squinted at the letters engraved on it. Her initials.

“Marking me, I see?”

“Sure… You gave me a diamond ring and I felt bad I didn’t give you anything, so…”

“It’s not traditional for women to give their fiancé something. You didn’t have to feel bad.”

“I know,” she said, tracing her initials.

“Hmm, can’t wait until the wedding to let everyone know I’m taken?”

“Suuure,” she said, rolling her eyes before getting off his lap and sitting next to him. “If that makes you feel better about being tied down to one woman forever, Javier.”

“It’s a woman who lets me tie her down to my bed, so…” he trailed, brushing his mustache with him thumb and giving her a once over.

“You sound worried…” he said, turning to get a better view of her. She kept her eyes on her lap, afraid that looking at him would be confirmation in his eyes if this worry he’d caught so easily.

She wasn’t worried. Or so she liked to think. When he got on one knee, she was a little surprised. One, they’d only been dating for a year. Two, she didn’t think he was the marrying kind. The first words out of her mouth weren’t Oh my God or a resounding Yes. It was a hesitant Are you sure?

When she visited his hometown Laredo with him to meet his Papa and his extended family and friends, she had more reason for unease. A neighbor just not so casually dropped the secret that he’d once been engaged to someone else, someone he left at the altar before moving to Colombia.

“You’re so brave, giving our Javi a chance after what he did to poor Lorraine.”

“What did he do to…? Who is Lorraine?”

“Oh, he didn’t tell you? Figures. She was his fiancée. Left her at the altar. The poor girl.”

Lorraine had reassured her that everything was alright, even implying that she was glad she didn’t have the bad luck of ending up with Javier. It was an immature Javier from many years ago, she’d said as much. He wouldn’t do that again. He made mistakes, but never made the same mistake twice. Or that is what she told herself. It didn’t stop her from thinking of the worst case scenarios— Javi leaving her at the altar, a future divorce, Javi getting bored with her and cheating. He wasn’t the cheating kind despite his reputation as a manwhore. But rational thought never stopped anxieties.

“You sure you want to get married?” She asked, letting her insecurity shine through. It was better than the alternative.

“Hmm, let me think about it,” he said, a playful smile dancing on his lips. “It’s good you asked me because I didn’t even think about that when I took a good chunk of my savings and spent it on a diamond ring that lost half its value once I left the store. I just bought it on a whim and had no choice but to get on one knee, profess my undying love for you in the restaurant we met and ask you to marry me.”

You asked Lorraine too!

She swallowed her words, crossing her arms over her chest defensively.

“Are you sure? Because this isn’t the first time you’re asking me that,” he said, the sarcastic tone finally leaving for a more serious one. She nodded and when he looked unconvinced, she said, “Yeah. I’m sure.”

“I know I haven’t given much time into planning a proper wedding. It’s not that I don’t want one,” he said, taking her left hand and playing with her engagement ring. “It’d be nice, with both our families there. But it’ll take time and I just can’t wait. It’s a dangerous job, you know that. And you decided to be with me anyway.”

His other hand cupped her cheek, his brown eyes revealing the depth of his heart for once. There was always a softness to them with their deep color and the downward turn of their outer corners.

“If I’m going to keep you in danger by virtue of being attached to me, I figured I should take the plunge, commit fully. If… I know it’s not great to hear it, but…” he sighed before rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand. “If something were to happen to me, I want you to be my next of kin. For any medical decisions, visitation rights, survivor benefits if…You wouldn’t have those rights over me if I was just your boyfriend.”

“If that’s the only reason you’re marrying me…”

“Of course not. I’m marrying you because I know I want to spend my life with you. But if this isn’t the life you want…the danger, the anxiety, the missed anniversaries and birthdays,” he said pausing before he continued, “potential of widowhood.”

Her hand closed around his and he held her back, his hold tight and reassuring in its firmness. She pulled her trembling bottom lip between her teeth and leaned into his chest. “If you have any doubts, there is still time.” She heard him swallow before he spoke again. “I’m willing to make more time if you need it. We could push the wedding, you can take as long as you need. It’s a big ask— marriage. So if you want to say…if you want to change your mind, you have every right. I won’t… no hard feelings.”

“Pobrecito…” she cooed before placing a kiss on his forehead. “I don’t have doubts. And I’m not going to change my mind.”

She felt him exhale. His eyes closed and he nodded. “Okay.”

“It would be too late anyway. Had I thought of it before we started dating, when it was just sex…maybe I would’ve left you,” she chuckled, fidgeting with the loose threats coming off their thin blanket. “But I’m in too deep now. The damage to my soul in leaving you would be far greater than anything that could happen if we stayed together. We hit a point of no return long back and now I just can’t be without you.”

Something like gratitude crossed his deep brown eyes. His eyebrows raised and his tight expressions softened. His large hand came up to cradle her face. “I can’t be without you,” he echoed, voice rich with emotion. His thumb traced her bottom lip before he leaned in. She kissed him eagerly, gentle yet passionate as they poured their anxieties and fears into the kiss. Slow and languid pecks decorated her lips and then her face.

“I was lying…”

“Hmm?”

“When I said there would be no hard feelings if you changed your mind. I was lying.”

She chuckled against his lips, placing one last kiss before pulling away. “Oh yeah?” She asked and he nodded. He held her close, not allowing her to leave his embrace.

“I would be so upset.”

“Good to know,” she said, curling a finger around his gold chain and pulling him close. His lips stretched into a grin and he gladly went where she took him. He leaned in, hoping for a kiss, but she dropped his chain and pushed him off by his chest. He raised an eyebrow at her and she simply smiled.

“You look so handsome when you smile,” she said, bringing her thumb up to his mustache, caressing the prickly hairs.

“Mhmm?” He asked, his smile morphing into a smirk. She slapped his cheek lightly and he laughed before he flipped it to a frown. “Not like that. Don’t look smug.”

“My naked wife is on my bed telling me I’m handsome and I’m not supposed to look smug?”

“Wife?” She squinted at him. “I’m not your wife yet. Keep that smug smile up and I might change my mind.”

“Oh? Didn’t you just say you weren’t changing your mind? That you were in too deep for that.”

“Yeah, that was before I realized I was marrying a liar. You kiss your fiancée with that lying mouth, Javier?”

“Oh I do more than kiss her with my lying mouth,” he quipped before getting off the bed and pulling her down the bed by her ankles. She squealed at the sudden movement, lifting her head up to find him on his knees on the floor by her legs.

The smug smile she asked him to get rid of was present and glowing more than ever. He spread her legs wider than necessary. His eyes narrowed at where her thighs met and he licked his lips, sending a shiver through her. It was maddening, the effect he had on her. She’d had him multiple times in several different positions that night. She’d put on lingerie and taken him over and over until he couldn’t anymore, until her body was covered in evidence of his presence and satisfaction settled in her heart. But here she was, a mere half hour later, desiring him again.

Spread out obscenely for him, his wide chest in between her legs, she wondered how she looked to him. If it really was such a sight that it made his eyes glaze over with lust.

“Mi esposa… Estás tan guapa así,” he praised, peppering kisses up her thigh. Her heart beat for him, faster and faster with each kiss that brought his lips closer to where she needed him most. She brought a hand to his messy curls, caressing the strands she’d pulled at just a little while back.

She groaned as he moved to her other thigh, skipping her pussy that was dripping anew with her arousal, blending with both their cum from when they last made love. He dipped a finger in, coating the tip white before bringing it between his lips.

“We taste so fucking good together, baby,” he said, pushing his finger in, deeper this time. Her pussy squelched from its wetness as he pushed in and out, the white liquid flowing out of her. He bent his head down between her legs, licking up her excess, not wasting a drop of it. He gave her a few pumps before he withdrew, making her whine.

Hovering over her, he smeared the liquid on her swollen lips. His birthday present hung from his neck, gravity bringing the cold metal into contact with her own neck. God, this was what she was hoping for when she bought it for him.

Before she could lick her lips, he brought his pretty pink ones to hers. She moaned, both from the sensation of his lips on hers and the realization of how dirty it was to be kissing with their cum from between her legs coating her lips. The man was certainly creative in the plans he cooked up to defile her. There were men who refused to even kiss her after she sucked their cock and there was Javi, tasting his own release on her lips.

She parted her lips for him, allowing his tongue to glide in. She moaned into his mouth as she tasted their combined release on his lips and his tongue. She played with his hair, untangling the knots she’d left there from tugging at it. The smell of sex filled her senses as he pulled back and breathed out of his mouth. One hand played with her breast, covered in bite marks and hickeys from his greed, while the other reached back between her legs and fucked her with two fingers instead of one, his large digits stretching her out in preparation for him.

“So fucking gorgeous, fuuuck!” He cursed, taking in her expressions as he circled her clit. “Thought I’d just taste you again. But you got me hard again. What’s this, round four for the night? Look what you do to me,” he said, taking her hand and wrapping it around his cock. He guided her hand up and down his hardening cock, making her stroke his length in his hand.

“Have me fuckin’ addicted to this cunt, baby. You can’t have second thoughts now. You’re not allowed, not even if I say you can rethink this. You think I’ll let go of pussy this good? Hmm?” He asked, withdrawing from her pussy and bringing his fingers up to his lips. He plunged them between his lips and licked it up with a moan. “Don’t be fooled by how good I take care of you. I’m a selfish man. You can’t give me aaaall this,” he said, hands roaming her body and stopping to knead her breasts. “and think I’ll be all selfless and give it up.”

She shivered from his words and arched into his touch, pushing her tits into his hands. “I was being kind and fucking stupid ‘cause I thought you might want to reconsider marriage. But I’ve got you, don’t I?” He taunted, collecting what was left of them from between her legs before bringing his fingers up to her line of sight.

“I’ve got you, all for myself. No woman who comes like this for her man will think of settling for anything else,” he said before smearing it on her face. She stroked his cock faster, relishing in how he screwed his eyes shut from her touches. She brought her thumb up to the tip of his cock, swiping up the bead of precum. She brought it to her lips and tasted him, maintaining eye-contact with the man hovering over him.

“All mine… Look at you, so fucking filthy with cum on your face. You do that for your boyfriends?” He mocked, putting down all the other men she’d let touch her before him. She shook her head, speechless as she devoured what was in front of her. She lined him up with her cunt, allowing him to push in. The fervor of his words sunk into her with his cock and she wrapped around him, warm, wet and greedy.

He was fucking beautiful— messy ink black hair falling over his forehead, soft brown eyes, neatly trimmed mustache, pretty pink lips and her initials in a gold rectangle swinging from his neck. She reached up and pushed his hair back and placed a kiss on his forehead. He didn’t always understand words, was stunned by her confessions of love, of the need to spend eternity in his arms. She knew he struggled with words, saw how much courage it took him to say I love you the first few times he did. Te quiero came easy to him, having grown up saying the words to his parents, but te amo was like moving a boulder uphill.

He spoke words of love with much more ease now, he told her he couldn’t wait the duration it took to plan a wedding to finally be her husband, told her he wanted her to be his next of kin, that she could change her mind even though he didn’t want her to. He made himself better with words. For her. Because he knew when she smiled at her book it was because of a ‘You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope...I have loved none but you’. When she read to him ‘If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more’, his breath hitched as he asked her to read the sentence once again before he confessed it was how he felt about her.

While he’d gotten so much better with his words, she liked to meet him in the middle, speak his language- touch. He understood touch— her gentle hand pushing his hair back and her lips on his forehead. He understood her hips rising up to meet his slow thrusts.

“‘Y’know, fiancée pussy is good. Better than girlfriend pussy. Bet married pussy will be miles better,” he said, making her tighten around him. “You like thinking about that? When you’re all mine to do with as I wish…”

“You need a piece of—” she stopped to hiss from how his body made contact with her clit. “Y-you need papers from the fucking government to make me all yours? Thought you didn’t go by the books, Agent Peña. You are already mine, husband or not. You’ve been mine since I— hnnng!” Her words devolved into muddled sounds as he forced himself in her harder.

“Can’t talk? I shut that mouth up, huh? Try to say you might not marry me and I’ll shut you up just like this,” he scolded, pinching her nipple between his fingers and letting go to knead her breast in his large hand. “Pissed me off so bad, I wanna drag you to the fucking embassy right now and make you my fucking wife.”

His thrusts grew harder and his dangling necklace swung back and forth, grazing her chin before swinging away only to hit right back. Exactly what she pictured. It was a pretty sight, forehead covered in sweat, errant locks of hair sticking to it and eyes glazed with lust, all for her. She wrapped her legs around him, heels digging into his back and pulling him closer to herself as she struggled to meet the vigor of his thrusts. As much as she wanted him, she wasn’t as fit as a man who hunted other men for a living.

His physical prowess thrilled her, made her writhe underneath him. She ran her nails down his back, preparing him for how she would sink them into his back once again when he brought her to her peak. His muscles felt glorious under her fingers. She visualized each bulge and dip, pictured them with the scars she’d already left on his back and the scars she would give him. She moved her hand to his shoulder and then down his arm, licking her lips as it registered how fucking muscular he was, how he could crush her with them but chose instead to hold her, to love her.

As his thrusts grew more erratic and his breathing uneven, she knew he was getting close. His chain went from swinging against her to resting on her as he lied atop her and his thrusts got short. She moaned at the weight of him, aroused by how bulky he was. So beautiful and so goddamn muscular and all hers. He buried his face in her neck and filled her up with his cum, moaning her name before crumbling on top of her.

She felt him softening inside her. He slowly came to, kissing her neck before sliding down her body.

“What’re you doing?” She mumbled, fatigue settling into her worn out body. He looked up from where he slithered down, eyes still ferocious with hunger. How the fuck was this man still horny?

“Still haven’t shown you what else I do with my lying mouth,” he said, kissing down her belly and stopping at her cunt to give it a lick. She shuddered.

“Baby, ‘m sleepy…”

“‘s okay, you sleep. I’ll just get a taste here. Need to make you come.”

“You’ve made me cum many times already. I’m perfectly content.”

“I’m not. I need this pussy again,” he begged, flattening his tongue against her cunt. She hissed, sensitive from their night of passion, but grabbed him by his hair and pushed herself up into his face. “Thank you, ma’am,” he groaned into her, making her giggle.

“You’re such a whore, Javier,” she teased, still laughing. He gave her one more lick before he looked up at her with a shit-eating grin.

“You know what they say- you can take a man out of a whore but you can never take whore out of a man.”

“What does that even mean?” She asked, chest rising and falling from laughter.

“It means…” he trailed before licking his cum dripping out of her. He moved to her clit and sucked it between his lips, the pressure having her whining. Her hips jutted up instinctively, but he pushed her back down to the bed with a firm yet gentle hand on her belly. A minute of licking and sucking from his expert mouth and she came undone for him, thighs shaking and back arching before she fell back on the bed. He placed one final kiss on her mound before he lied back neck to her.

Javier and their blanket wrapped around her, she sighed in contentment.

“I’ll be gone before you wake up.”

“Oh…” she said, trying to not let her frown show. She’d planned a fun day out for him because he was supposed to have this Sunday off. Sightseeing, birthday cake and more birthday sex. But their plans were always written in water.

“I’m expecting intel from Helena tomorrow,” he said, caressing her arm. “If I’m right, if what she says matches my suspicions, the guys and I will join Carillo in Medellin. If things go well, I won’t be home until right before the wedding.”

“Well, then I better not see your ass in Bogota before our wedding day,” she said, earning herself a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll miss you.”

“Thank you…umm, for the gift. I… it’s nice,” he membled awkwardly. His arms pulled her in tighter and his lips pressed on her temple before she gave in to sleep. When she woke up, there was no evidence of the passions of her night other than the rumpled sheets and the soreness between her legs.

Series Masterlist

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier pena fic #javier peña fluff #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena imagine #javier peña x ofc #javier peña x you #javier peña fic #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña x y/n #narcos fic #narcos fanfiction #domestic javier peña #javier pena narcos #narcos smut #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal #all that i've inflicted on the world

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dilfsfordinner · 5 months

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a/n- yeah, i’m still not over the leaks

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“-it funny. Just the idea of Annabeth trying to sit quietly and draw all day,” you spoke into the quiet atmosphere of your bedroom, a queasy Megumi nuzzled into the valley of your chest, little sniffles coming from him as you read a chapter from one of his favorite books.

A heavy comforter was thrown atop your bodies, his body supplying more than enough heat on its own, but the doctor said warmer was better anyway, especially when cold sweats would pelt his form simultaneously. “Athena expects her children to create things, not just tear them dow-”

“I thought Athena was the war one,” came a scratchy voice to your right, the usual teasing tone Gojo used with you gone from his arsenal, replaced by the signature rasps of a sore throat. Looking up from your book, you turned to look upon your very sick lover, his blue eyes red and shot from fatigue, slow blinks indicating he was genuinely awaiting your answer.

A sympathetic smile pulled at your lips as you just nodded and pulled him closer, his soft hair tickling the skin of your neck as he rested the back of his head against your shoulder, his long form sinking down the bed, hip just below your hip, side to your side.

“Then why would she like architects,” he mumbled, eyes closing to get his much-needed rest, relaxation melting his limbs before a jab was dealt to his side, ribs aching from a tiny elbow, its little bone just sharp enough to knock a cough out of him.

“Listen,” came Megumi’s irritated response, the boy clearly too tired to put up with your lover’s antics, huffing as he nestled back into the comfort of your arms, which used his back as a makeshift table, holding the book up once more to continue reading.

Stifling a laugh at the scowl you knew was gracing Gojo’s features at the moment, you read to your makeshift patients, trying your best to mediate between them and keep the peace whenever a petty argument rose.

…

“… I am Thalia,’ the girl said, ‘Daughter of Zeus’”.

Closing the book with a contented sigh, you peeked down to find Megumi sleeping soundly, his pale face finally gaining a flush of color after days of palidity. Combing his hair away from his forehead, you tested his temperature with the back of your hand, your hope for his recovery short-lived as his skin felt as scalding as ever.

“Fuck,” you whispered, worry for the little boy lying on top of you building as you imagined how bad he must feel and the fact that you couldn’t cure him on your own.

“He’ll be okay,” came that scratchy voice again, a warm hand rubbing smooth circles on your thigh, Gojo sensing your racing thoughts of desperation, could tell from your shift in mood alone that you were scared Megumi’s sickness could possibly get even worse.

“I promise,” he added, his own fingers carding through Megumi’s silky hair this time, the two of you watching the young boy, his uneven inhales slightly evening out at the feeling of his “father’s” touch.

The sight had the worry sitting in your chest dissipating, if only for a moment, and you relaxed back against the headboard, nodding to acknowledge that you trusted him, trusted that he wouldn’t let anything happen to Megumi.

“Besides, we’re unkillable, love” he somehow purred, rough voice aside. An incredulous scoff bubbled out of you at his comment, shaking your head in disbelief at Gojo’s pure nonchalance, his own laugh slipping from his lips. Once again, Satoru Gojo knew exactly what to say to push buttons, the only difference being that it was an adult elbow jamming into his side this time.

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#can you guess what my favorite series was when i was little #gojo satoru fluff #gojo x female reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #dad gojo #baby megumi #megumi fluff #jjk x fem!reader #jjk fluff #gojo x reader

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haddonfieldwhore · 1 year

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cold mornings - leon kennedy

leon kennedy x reader

warnings: none i think, just fluff💕🧸 (short)

as you slowly woke up from your sleeping state, your hand instinctively reached over the to space next to you, only to find it empty. the sheets were still warm where your boyfriend, leon, usually slept, meaning he hadn’t left the bed that long ago. you rolled over onto your stomach, burying your face in the pillow that still smelt of leon’s shampoo. you sighed happily, even as the chilly morning air tried to touch your bare legs. having slept in just an old t-shirt of leon’s, your wrapped your arms around yourself as you sat up, shivering as your feet touched the cold hardwood floor.

the sun was just beginning to rise as you walked out of leon’s bedroom and down the hallway, looking for the blond agent. you found him in the kitchen, his hair tousled and messy from sleep, wearing a faded R.P.D hoodie, so worn that the logo was almost invisible. even with the slight bags under his eyes, you couldn’t imagine leon looking any cuter than he did right now, as he fiddled with the coffee maker that he never could seem to get working right.

“why don’t you just by a new one?” you asked, and leon jumped slightly, seemingly not having heard you walk up behind him. “sorry baby, i didn’t mean to scare you.”

“it’s okay,” he sighed, pulling you into his arms, and you happily accepted the warmth he gave off. “i’ll figure this thing out eventually.” you smiled to yourself as with no more than two presses of a button, you got the machine working. “huh, i guess that’s why i keep you around,” leon teased, pulling back to kiss you on the forehead, his arms still around you resting on your lower back. you tugged at the fabric of the old hoodie, pulling his lips down to meet yours in a soft kiss. he was smiling when you pulled back.

“i hope that’s not the only reason,” you replied playfully, and he laughed lightly.

“no, i also love you a little bit.”

“a little bit?” you asked. raising an eyebrow.

“ok.. a lot,” he smiled, kissing you again. the coffee finished dripping into the pot and leon passed you your favourite mug. you poured the coffee in before adding some creamer, and pulled leon by his hand towards the couch once he had gotten his coffee as well. leon sat down and let you crawl into his lap, your legs over his as your back rested against the armrest. he pulled a plush blanket over both of you, quickly warming you up and protecting you from the cold air.

“thanks,” you hummed, snuggling into him, carefully as not to spill the coffee cup that you held in your lap.

“i wish every morning could be like this,” leon mumbled, thinking out loud. you smiled in agreement.

“that means i’d have to spend the night more often,” you replied.

“my apartment is closer to your work anyway, it’s more practical for you to stay here.” he enthused; he was right, his apartment was 15 minutes closer to your work than yours was. “plus the added bonus of i get to spend more time with you like this,” he beamed, kissing your neck innocently. you had to admit, you enjoyed falling asleep next to leon. considering his line of work, the two of you didn’t always get to spend time just relaxing and enjoying each others company. you had to cherish these moments, and any excuse to have more of them was welcome in both your opinions.

“that definitely is a bonus. and i sleep better knowing i have you to protect me,” you admitted. you could see something- maybe guilt- flash in leon’s eyes, before he forced a smile.

“are you kidding? you’re here to protect me,” he chuckled, and you hit his chest gently. nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck, leon held you tighter, tracing little shapes on your bare leg under the blanket.

you could definitely get used to more mornings like this.

#leon kennedy fic #leon kennedy #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy fanfiction #leon kennedy fluff #fluff #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #resident evil #re4 remake #re4 #re2 #re2make #re4make

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restlesswritings · 11 months

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NCT REACTIONS:

NCT 127 Reaction to you wearing their clothes for the first time

A/N: Requests are open Jagi- Honey; used as a nickname in some of the reactions Genre: Fluff Warnings: Suggestive, Cursing Masterlists : JPOP & KPOP

Taeyong

After a shower you quietly make your way into the room to see Taeyong sitting on the edge of the bed, already in his pajamas, scrolling through his phone. "Hi baby.” You say, making your way to the bed and getting under the covers. He doesn't notice you at first when he looks up to shoot you a smile but as soon as he registers your attire his head flies back up, shock evident on his gorgeous features as he looks at you with wide eyes. "Wha! Y/N.. you're wearing my shirt?" He asks shocked, stumbling over his words as he takes in how his clothes make you look more delicate than normal. "I hope you don't mind.. I forgot to grab my pjs.." You say sheepishly, he shakes his head with a smile on his lips. "I love it.. damn you look so good jagi, I can't stand it." He says, letting out a laugh with a flushed face as he lays down next to you before pulling you onto him, crashing his lips onto yours.

Taeil

You're standing in the kitchen, making dinner when Taeil walks in. "Hey Y/N, have you seen my hood-" He starts to say, stopping in his tracks when he sees the hoodie in question on you. Heat rushing to your face as you were caught red handed stealing his clothes, "Oops sorry baby.. I got cold! Here you g-" You say sheepishly as you start to take the hoodie off before his hand comes up and gently grabs your wrist. "No don't! Uh haha I mean.." He says, scratching the back of his neck before adding. "You should keep it, it looks better on you." He says with a bright smile, face slightly flushed. "Besides, I can't have you cold now can I?" He asks, wrapping his arms around you, placing a kiss to the top of your head causing you to smile at your sweet boyfriend. "Thank you baby." You tell him, slightly catching him off guard when you place a kiss on his lips.

Johnny

Johnny’s eyes light up when he notices you walking towards him but his eyebrows soon furrow when he realizes what shirt you are wearing. “Y/N, I didn’t think you’d look this good in my clothes, you little t-shirt thief!” He says with a loud laugh and snort as he runs to you, the other members now looking in your direction causing you to blush. “Yah! It looked so comfy I couldn’t not wear it!” You defend yourself while crossing your arms over your chest with a fake pout causing your giant boyfriend to smile down at you, “Damn babe.. you look actually so adorable like that” He says before pulling you into his arms, squishing you in the process. “I ca-can’t br-breath you big goof!” You say through giggles. “Well that’s what you get for stealing my clothes!” He says with a laugh before adding. "All jokes aside, I really like seeing you in my clothes." He says before placing a kiss on your forehead.

Yuta

“Come on Y/N! I’m getting antsy out here!” Yuta yells dramatically from the other side of the bathroom door causing you to roll your eyes as you finish pulling his t-shirt over your head. “I’m coming!” You tell your boyfriend as you walk out of the bathroom causing him to immediately burst out in giggles as he takes in how adorable you look. “Damn jagi! You look so cute !” He says with a big smile, squeezing the pillow in his hands. "You like it?" You ask with a giggle before he gets up, catching you by surprise when he pulls you into a quick kiss before you can say anything, booping your nose with his finger. “I really, really do.. Oh! You should try one of my button ups next! I like seeing you in my clothes.." He says before a mischievous smirk graces his lips. "And without them..” He says with a wink and a big toothy grin before finding his previous spot on the bed, leaving you blushing.

Doyoung

Doyoung walks through the door whistling, he comes to a stop in his spot as he takes in your attire before taking a deep breath. With red ears he walks over to the couch causing you to look over at him with a warm smile. "Hi baby, how was rehearsal?" You ask, sending a smile towards him, completely unaware of his stare. "Uh it was good..” He says, continuing looking at you causing you to look up at him and shift in your seat. “What's wrong?” You ask, sending a look of concern to your boyfriend. “Uh.. is that my shirt?" He asks while scratching the back of his neck. "Oh yeah! I got my shirt messy and didn't have an extra change of clothes here, is that okay?" You ask, scooting closer to him causing him to let out a stream of giggles. "Y-yes! It looks good on you." He reassures with a flushed face causing you to shake your head and pull him into a hug. "Thank you goof!"

Jaehyun

"Okay I got you the dumplings because they didn't hav-" Your words cut off by your Jaehyun. “Wow babe, you look..” He says with a smirk, pulling you into his arms. "Wha- what are you doing?" You ask, confusion evident on your features. "You look so good in my t-shirt Y/N.." He says, kissing your neck, causing a giggle to escape your lips. "Yah! The food is getting cold!” You say, a blush creeping up your cheeks as you playfully push him away. “And as much as I want to continue this we aren't doing anything in your studio big boy." You say, poking a finger into his hard chest, a laugh bubbling out of his throat as he puts his hands up in defense, giving you a big smile. "Okay, okay.. fair enough but can you maybe wear my clothes around the house next time so I can do something about it?" He asks with a wink, quickly kissing your cheek and snatching the bag of food from you, leaving you with a flushed face.

Jungwoo

You can't help the big smile plastered on your face as you make your way down the hallway to see your boyfriend, excited to show Jungwoo your outfit. You look around, smile widening when you see him running over to you, his eyes immediately widen when he sees the outfit you put together, noticing how well his cropped t-shirt suits you. "Y/N! I love it, you look.. incredible!" He exclaims, pulling you into his arms, spinning you around causing a giggle to escape your lips before he puts you back down. "I didn't think it would look good-" You start with a big smile, looking up at him as he cuts off your words. "Seriously jagi.. I can't take my eyes off you.." He says, pulling you closer to him, kissing the top of your head. You smile at his sweet affection as you wrap your arms around his waist, "I love you." You say, earning a toothy smile from your boyfriend. "I love you too." He says before his lips meet yours.

Mark

"Can I wear your hoodie, Mark?" You ask your boyfriend as you make your way into the living room, already wearing said hoodie. "Wha- hahaha you already have it on!" He says through laughter, clutching his stomach as you shoot him a smile. "Of course you can!" He adds, patting the seat next to him on the couch. "Thank you baby" You say as you plop down next to him, raising an eyebrow when you notice his eyes on you. "Wait hold on, you actually look so cute in my clothes Y/N.." He says with a giggle, turning to look down at your body in his hoodie, a small grin forms on his face. You shoot a smile at him in return before he looks up at you with a different expression. "Stop looking at me like that!" You whine, playfully hitting his shoulder, which only causes him to burst out into laughter. "I can't help it! Jagi you look so cute" He defends, pulling you closer. "Thank youuu" You coo, snuggling into his warm body.

Haechan

"Yah jagi, Johnny just invit-" Haechan says out of breath as he bursts through the bedroom door, going silent as his eyes land on you, wearing his sweater. "What?" You ask, a little confused by your boyfriend's sudden silence, “Hello?? Earth to Haechan?" You say with a giggle, looking at him, eyebrows pulled together as you wait for his response. "You're wearing my sweater?" He asks with a smirk now dancing on his lips, as he pulls the band of the pants playfully. "I didn't think this was something I needed to see.. until now.." He adds, causing a laugh to escape your lips. "So you’re not mad that I stole it??" You say, adding a wink in his direction. "No, it is completely okay" He responds with a serious expression on his face as his eyes trail your body again causing you to laugh as he pulls you into his embrace. "Wait, what about Johnn-" Your words cut off by his lips capturing yours.

A/N: Wow.. my thoughts are everywhere after that 💭

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goforth-ladymidnight · 30 days

Text

Dirty Limericks

Tamlin Week 2024, Day 2: Poet

@tamlinweek

Rating: Teen and up (with mature themes)

Warnings: None (unless you don't like poetry, I guess)

Word Count: 900

Summary: Tamlin reads aloud the five limericks that he wrote to make Feyre laugh. (If you've ever wondered what the other four were, as referenced in ch. 19 of ACOTAR, this is my take on them.)

Read on AO3, or read on below:

“Feeling better today?” Tamlin asked, mirth dancing in his eyes and at the corners of his full mouth.

Feyre blushed as she caught herself staring, then tucked a stray hair behind her ear as she glanced away and mumbled something incoherent, even to her own ears.

“Good,” he said lightly, unbuttoning the first three buttons on his tunic as she pretended not to notice. “But, just in case, I wanted to give you… these,” he added, pulling some rumpled papers from his tunic and offering them to her.

Doing her best to ignore the glimpse of sun-kissed skin visible through his unbuttoned collar, she bit the inside of her cheek as she smoothed the three papers in her hands. One for each button, she thought, then shook her head as she tried to concentrate instead on what was written on them. Poems, she realized, grimacing as she scanned each page in turn. Five poems in all, with five lines each. Her heart sunk down to the pit of her stomach as she stared at the first, trying to sound out the unfamiliar words in her head. Bee… Bee-ah… Bee-ah-you…

“Before you bolt, or start yelling,” he began, as if he knew what she was thinking, “allow me.” He stepped closer to peer over her shoulder, and touched one corner of the page to hold it steady.

She hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until she felt his on her neck, warming the shell of her ear. If she had dared, she could have leaned back into his chest, and he might have put his arms around her as he read… But she didn’t dare.

In a clear, steady voice, he read the first poem:

“There once was a lady most beautiful

Spirited, if a little unusual

Of friends, she had few

But the men did queue

Yet to all she gave a refusal.”

Her eyebrows rose. Is this about me, she wanted to ask, but before she could, he took the pages from her and stepped away to keep reading:

“Her refusals were rather dismaying

So they thought they should try dragon slaying

To their devastation

The mass conflagration

Burnt their pants, so they would not be staying.”

She let out a surprised chuckle when he finished. “What is this… Are you writing riddles?”

“Not riddles,” he said with a coy smile. “Limericks.”

Before she could ask him why, he shuffled to the second page and began reading another one.

“It wasn’t until later that night

That the young lady heard of their plight

She said: ‘What a pity

That no man in this city

Can cause my own pants to ignite!’”

Feyre’s face flushed, and she smothered a snort with her hand. “That’s a limerick?” she asked him, her voice muffled.

His eyes twinkled. “Indeed,” he said wryly, then shook out the papers and kept going.

By this lady’s own admonition

She is in an awkward position

Though she wishes to marry

Of these men, she is wary

For they cannot fuck in their condition.

Her brows shot up when he finished.

“You’re terrible!” she exclaimed, blushing madly.

He looked at her askance. “Am I?” he said, smirking slightly. “I thought I was rather good.”

“I mean, you are, but…” When she met his twinkling, green-eyed gaze, she bit her lip and glanced away. “How did you come up with these, anyway?”

He kept the final page but handed the rest to her. “Look at the last word in the second and fourth lines of each poem,” he said, nodding at the papers in her hands.

She did as he said, then frowned. Unusual. Queue. She glanced at the second poem, then her mouth fell open as she gasped, “These are my—”

“I couldn’t resist,” he said, smiling. “Your list of words was far too interesting to pass up,” he said, fluttering the last page in the breeze. “And not good for love poems at all.”

Slaying. Conflagration. Plight. Position.

Feyre felt her face flush anew. “Love poems?” she repeated doubtfully.

He chuckled. “Well… Not love poems, exactly,” he admitted with a shy smile. “You see… We had, ah, contests to see who could write the dirtiest limericks while I was living with my father’s war-band on the border.” He sauntered closer. “I don’t particularly enjoy losing, so… I took it upon myself to become good at them.”

As he came to stand before her, his warmth washed over her like the sun coming out after a storm. As warm as his eyes, flecked with amber… She bashfully bit back a smile and dropped her gaze to the pages in her hands.

How long had it taken him to write such bawdy lines for her amusement? And it was for her amusement, she realized, not his, or he would have read them to Lucien over dinner.

“Well, uh…” She cleared her throat, then fanned her face with the pages as she smiled shyly up at him. “If this was a contest, I’d say you won.”

His smile broadened, and her heart thumped strangely. “I saved the best for last, you know.”

“Is that so?”

He nodded and made a show of smoothing out the last page, then cleared his throat.

“She packed up her bags and forthwith-ian

Crossed over the Wall into Prythian

When she found what she sought

She was no longer distraught

For orgasms were no longer a myth-ian.”

Feyre burst out laughing, and when Tamlin joined in, the sound reminded her of ice shattering after a long winter.

#figuring out these limericks was oh so satisfying #tamlin #feyre archeron #i loved their romance in book 1 #i miss them #feylin #pro tamlin #acotar fanfiction #my writing

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darklydeliciousdesires · 10 months

Text

The Dream - Chapter Twenty Eight.

Huge thanks for your engagement on this, besties. I appreciate those of you who are still taking the time to read and offer feedback hugely :) Just one more chapter and an epilogue left after this one. Thanks for sticking with me to those of you who have!

Previous chapters - Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty Twenty One Twenty Two Twenty Three Twenty Four Twenty Five Twenty Six Twenty Seven

Tag list - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed (note: those not engaging will be automatically removed from the tag list, FYI)

Words - 2,948

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

“Angel just got here, I’m gonna go out and meet him, babe.”

Meryl nodded, but her eyes didn’t leave her daughter for a second, lying there in the hospital bed, clinging to life, wires poking out from her arms and hands, a machine breathing for her. David placed a kiss on her head before departing, the weight of the situation heavy upon his broad shoulders. Nurses smiled kindly at him as he passed, him nodding in acknowledgement, his chest tight with the tension.

She might not have been his by biology, but that was his kid in there. His little. She had to be okay, because losing her at just twenty-three wasn’t an option. No parent should ever have to bury their child, and no young woman deserved to have her life cut short so cruelly when she was only at the very beginning of going out there to live it.

A gentle nudge from a woman he’d been standing next to waiting for the elevator roused him, David shaking himself, stepping in and pressing the button for the ground floor. When he arrived outside, Angel was pacing with a cigarette, pale, eyes wide. As he expected.

“What happened? Is she alright?”

David steadied him with a hand to his shoulder, shaking his head. “She’s in a bad way, Angel. The Uber she was in got hit by a truck on the freeway, the driver was killed instantly, and it took the fire department a half hour to cut her from the wreckage, after which she’d lost a dangerous amount of blood.

“Her injuries are severe, and she was taken for emergency surgery as soon as she arrived. I want you to brace yourself when you see her, because she don’t look like Keri right now. They had to shave half her hair to operate on her brain, relieve the pressure from the swelling, which they did, but her injuries are so extensive that the next twenty-four hours remain critical. We’ve been told to prepare ourselves for the worst.”

It was as if someone had injected ice into his veins, his entire body trembling in chill, the fear swelling within him as he nodded dumbly, David putting his arm around his shoulders and guiding him into the building. His whole body felt rigid, his feet shuffling him forward without conscious thought, disbelief hanging over him like a fog.

This couldn’t be happening.

Not to her, not to them. Not his Keri.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispered in the elevator, rubbing his face with his hand. “I just...”

David nodded, gripping his shoulder firmly. “I know. Don’t matter how bleak it all is, we gotta keep faith, hold hope that she’ll recover. She needs us to.”

He nodded, a lump rising in his throat, one that he managed to hang onto, until he actually saw her.

“Fuck,” he winced, having to turn away and take a deep breath, seeing here lying there like that, walking to her side and leaning to gently kiss her head. “I’m here, baby. I love you so fucking much. We’re all here, and we ain’t going anywhere, not until you wake up. Please wake up soon, Keri.” Reaching across the bed, he grasped Meryl’s hand, her tear-streaked face brightening into a smile for him.

“I’m so glad you’re here, love.”

“Ain’t no other place I’d be.” He let go after a few seconds, his fingers finding Keri’s, her hand a mess of tubes and cuts, her beautiful face blackened by bruising. It didn’t feel real, how in the space of a few hours his entire world had been capsized. Why was this happening to her?

“I’m gonna go to the machine and get a coffee,” David stated, looking between them. “You guys want anything?”

They shook their heads, Meryl thanking him anyway, the door closing with a soft click behind him.

“How did it all happen? David didn’t go into detail.”

She took a deep breath, tremored, the story she’d heard from Sunni still crashing against her insides like a tornado. She felt fortunate at least, that someone who loved Keri so much had been there to attend to her as soon as she’d arrived, although her heart went out to him, having to remain professional while he treated his niece, all the emotion he must have had to push deep down. “A truck had a tire blow out, hit the Uber side on, propelling it into the path of another truck and sending the vehicle into a roll.

“The guy in the second truck managed to break sharply, more cars hit the back of him, too. It was a huge pile up. He got out and went straight to their aid, saw the driver was dead, but Keri was apparently still conscious. He called for the emergency services, crawled partly into the wreck of the car and pressed his shirt against her shoulder wound, where part of the windscreen had pierced through. He stayed with her, too, and gave his account of what happened to the paramedics.

“She was taken to the OR, where they operated to repair her shoulder and the damage to her chest cavity, also to stop the swelling and bleeding on her brain. We’ll only know how bad it is once she's stable enough to be scanned, but at this point, they’re only giving her a twenty percent chance of surviving through the night, her injuries are so huge.”

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed, fingers tightening on hers as much as he dared, reaching to gently stroke her face. “She’s a fighter. She’ll get through it, and I ain’t leaving until she does.”

“She’d better,” Meryl choked, sobbing, “because I can’t fucking lose her, too. Not my little girl as well.” Angel moved to her side in an instant, crouching to wrap her in a hug, Meryl falling apart into floods of tears as she held onto him tightly. “Oh god, Angel. I just... I can’t. What if we lose her?”

He was soft, yet staunch in his reply. “We aren’t going to. She’s hurt badly, but she’s gonna be fine. She has to be. It ain’t her time yet.” Unravelling from her, he touched a hand to her cheek, raising his eyebrows. “All this is, is the biggest Calamity Joe stunt she’s ever pulled, and we’re gonna tell her that when she wakes up, ain’t we?”

He wondered for a second if his words were poorly timed, his effort to try and give Meryl a little lightness. When she laughed softly through her nose and kissed his forehead, he saw it was perhaps just what she needed. “Yes, that’s exactly what it is. And we will.”

The hours that followed showed her stats stabilising, but by no means was she out of the woods. Her friends arrived one by one, Frankie and Jaime first, the former literally collapsing in tears, Angel having to pick her up off the floor after her legs had given way from under her. He sat her on his lap, holding her tight as she held Keri’s hand, talking to her, telling her how much she loved her.

“This kid has a damned tough skull. She’s made it through alive this far when in all honesty, she could have died right there in the wreckage. That’s what it is, her tough skull,” Meryl spoke, reaching to squeeze Frankie’s arm. “Remember when you guys were nine, and you decided to use a refuse bag to go sliding down the stairs, and Keri’s head smacking into the front door was your brakes?”

She laughed through her tears, drying her eyes on the back of her hand. “Or when you were having the wall built in the backyard, when she tried to climb up onto the pile of bricks waiting to be used, and one came straight down on her head? ‘I’m fine, I’m okay!’ and she had blood everywhere, looking like something out of a horror movie from a tiny half inch cut on her forehead?”

“Or when she got so drunk, she didn’t get the pull out secured properly and ended up sandwiched in it, with her head wedged?” Jaime offered, Frankie collapsing into giggles as she remembered them having to rescue her.

“She tripped over at the clubhouse one night, ended up headbutting Gilly, and that guy has a skull like concrete,” Angel added, laughing at the memory of Gilly roaring whether her head was made of rocks, from how sharply her skull had pounded off his as he’d caught her. “Baby you better wake up and shush me, or imma start telling your friends and your mom some of your really embarrassing fuck ups.”

Sadly, their precious Calamity Joe remained unmoving, her chest rising and falling steadily as the machine breathed air into her lungs, all four of them trying to keep their spirits up in the face of such a bleak prognosis. Jaime and Frankie stayed as late as they could, before it was just Angel and Meryl, the staff allowing them both to stay with her overnight, given the circumstances, nurses coming in every hour or so to check on her. Every check yielded no change in her condition.

“I booked the vacation,” he began to tell her, reaching to stroke her cheek. “Fourteen nights in Ocho Rios in December. I know you showed me that hotel, but the bungalow I found was way nicer, even though it cost a fucking shit tonne more, you’re worth every cent. I can’t wait to show you, you're gonna love it. You’ll scream when you see the coastline, everything you can photograph. If you’re still unsteady after all of this, we can push it back, but if not then it’ll be the perfect place to take you so you can chill out and rest. I’ll do everything, you don’t gotta worry about a thing.”

It hurt his heart, having to speak about a future he didn’t yet know he’d get to share with her, but he had to hold hope that he would. She’d survived the night, which was something, at least. There was hope she would continue to make slow progress, even if the hours that followed still offered no change.

Running on no sleep, Angel felt his eyes beginning to grow heavy at around half past five the following afternoon.

“You should try and get a little sleep,” Frankie advised, after arriving straight from visiting her grandparents, Angel shaking his head.

“I can’t. Not until she wakes up.”

She nodded, stroking his hair lovingly. “Alright, big guy. I’m going to go grab a coffee, see you in a little while.” He watched her leave the room, resisting the urge for sleep that continued to tug at him all he could, putting his head down beside her hip on the bed, his hand still holding hers tightly.

The sounds of the sea drifted into his ears, opening his eyes to familiar surroundings, everything so brilliant white and beautiful. Nothing was a beautiful as the face that greeted him, though.

“Ahh, he finally sleeps.”

He felt a sob well his throat, pulling her into his arms, not able to voice the emotions stirred in him properly. “Baby, I... and you’re...”

“Shhh, calm down,” she advised, stroking his hair. “You have to stay asleep, so I can actually spend some time with you. We need this moment.”

Looking up at her, he stroked her face, loving kisses finding her lips, holding her to him tightly. “And you gotta fight it, what happened to you, come back to us, to me. I know that you can.”

“Just lie here with me, listen to the ocean. It’s so beautiful here, so peaceful. This is our place, where we always found each other through the absolute madness of everything. Let’s just enjoy it. All is well here. I love you,” she spoke, her hands loving in their glide, laying kisses to his forehead. It all made sense to her now, the white room, how they always found themselves back there. Finally, she got it, what it meant, although she wished she didn’t.

“I love you too, baby. More than you could ever know.”

Her nails scratched at his beard, her smile widening. “Trust me, my beautiful man. I know.” He sank into the peace of the moment, his heart hurting that it wasn’t real, the bittersweetness of it hitting him hard. It was how they’d begun. It felt so real, her skin against his, her smell, her, just her, there in his arms, in the safe sanctuary of the white room. “No man has ever meant more to me than you do, and I want you to know that, Angel. I want you to remember it. Never, ever forget it.”

Looking down at her, he felt sadness swell in his heart. “That obelisk, it was never about me, was it?”

She shook her head.

“I ain’t ready, Keri. This can’t be the end. I can’t say goodbye to you yet.”

Kissing his tears as they fell, she shed a few of her own, too, at the unfairness of it all, her heart throbbing with waves of sadness as she clung onto him. Her entire being wanted to keep fighting to be with him, but she knew. It was her time to depart. “Neither am I, but it doesn’t hurt here, baby.”

Those words broke him completely, Keri holding him tightly. “Shhhh, honey. It’ll be okay.”

“No, it won’t. It won’t be okay, not without you.”

“Yes, it will. I mean, not for a while, but eventually.” Pausing, she kissed him, her hands gliding over his chest, drinking him in, her love burning ever brighter with every precious moment that passed. “It isn’t fair, and I know this. But at least we have right now, this moment, so I can tell you how endlessly I love you.”

“Please don’t go,” he begged softly, willing her to stay with him with everything he had. The devil could have offered up a contract for his soul in that moment, and he’d sign his name to it instantly if it would give him his love back, make it not so that he had to lose her, and she had to lose everything. “I need to make it up to you, still. I gotta show you that I’m capable of being better for you, please, Keri. Please don’t leave me.”

“Hey, you don’t have to make up for anything. I know, Angel, I know. I want you to know that I don’t want to go, either. I don’t. But I can’t hold on, no matter how much I want to. I’ll always be with you, though. I promise.” Kissing his head, she looked at him with a smile, her beauty burning into his retinas, the moment one he knew he’d remember forever. “You look after yourself, you hear me? I love you, Angel. I love you so much.”

He felt something tug as his insides, the dream beginning to slip, protesting, trying to hang onto her. “No, please don’t go, Keri. Please stay with me.”

“I love you, Angel.”

“No... no... I love you too, baby. Hold on, please. I love you.”

The sounds of the sea swelled in his ears, his consciousness coming back to him, the feel of someone grasping his shoulders and hauling him away from the bed as a long, droning noise sounded from one of the machines, the room suddenly full of medical personnel, someone pulling him to his feet, Meryl being asked to leave the room as well, her screams sharp in his ears as his eyes watched it all happen.

They worked rapidly, but it played by slowly to him, every movement he knew was futile, his tears falling as he watched from the open door, knowing it was too late, Meryl hysterical in David’s arms. They tried and tried, but it was no good.

As he watched her fade away, every moment of her replayed in his head, the dreams they’d found one another in, the reality that followed, everything that was their incredible story, now cut short entirely too soon.

“Time of death, five fifty-one pm.”

Meryl’s wail was of primal agony, collapsing, David lifting her into his arms, clutching her tightly as Angel felt the bottom of his world crash out from under him. She was gone. As he staggered back to fall down into a seat across from her room, he felt the sharp-toothed jaws of grief close in around him, goring at where he was soft, his head meeting his hands as he cried for her, his insides churned and ripped to shreds by the shards of his broken heart.

He had no concept of time as he sat there, replaying those last moments with her in their dream, the last time he’d ever seen her alive and well in the airport, the first dream, the first everything, the future he’d never have with her, robbed so cruelly from them both. He’d found and lost her in dreams. They’d come full circle.

“I’m always coming back.”

Except now she wasn’t, and it was through no fault of her own that she would never again return to him. The cruel, biting irony of the situation was not lost on him as the grief of losing her swallowed him whole, drowning in the darkness of it, feeling someone crouch before him, two hands stroking his arms.

Looking up into Frankie’s tear-filled eyes, he didn’t have a clue what to say to her, both resting their foreheads together before embracing tightly, crying on one another, their worlds absolutely shattered for no longer having their precious Keri within them.

A/N - I’m so sorry to do this to you all :( I think a few of you might’ve worked it out already though, that this was where we were always heading, picked up on the clues from the dreams. Well done if you did! But yes, this was always set to go in a very different direction to how I usually take my stories, and it was a challenge, but one I hope I managed to do justice to.

#angel reyes #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes smut #angel reyes x ofc #angel reyes fanfic #angel reyes fic #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fic

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sequinsmile-x · 2 years

Text

Made of Ashes

Emily knows exactly what drives her to do it, what makes her speak up in a way that she knows Aaron will reprimand her for later if they both made it. Emily could survive a lot of things, she had survived a lot of things, but watching the man she loves getting killed in front of her was not one of them.

“It’s me.”

A Minimal Loss AU

-x-

Words: 4.8k

Warnings: Canon typical violence/injury

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily groans as she wakes up, the shrill of the alarm cutting through her dreams, tearing her back into reality.

“Turn it off,” she complains, even though the alarm is closer to her, and she buries her face further into her pillow.

Aaron chuckles as he removes the arm he had slung over her waist, reaching over to the nightstand on her side of the bed, turning off the alarm before he settles back down behind her, pulling her back into his embrace.

“Morning sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep, the timber of it vibrating through her body. He kisses her shoulder and she groans again, turning in his arms, she smiles up at him with her eyes half open, briefly pressing her lips to his before she snuggles into his chest.

“Morning,” she replies, shifting impossibly closer to him, “it’s early.”

He kisses the top of her head and runs his hand up and down her back, “We’ve got to get going, the social worker is meeting us in an hour.”

“Five more minutes,” she grumbles, smiling against his chest when he holds her a little tighter.

“Ok, five more minutes.” He replies, his hand wandering up and down her back, almost lulling her back to sleep as they lay in comfortable silence. He kisses the top of her head, his touch becoming more insistent when five minutes had passed. “We really do need to get up, Em.”

She groans as she sits up, “Trust me to fall for the guy who follows the rules.”

Aaron laughs as she stretches, and he leans in to kiss her, “Love you.”

Emily can’t help her smile, kissing him quickly again before he stands. “Love you too,” she stands and looks around the hotel room, “This was nice, I’m glad you switched with Reid at the last minute, he would have been a terrible big spoon.”

Aaron glares at her as he pulls on his pants, a glint in his eyes that she loved, something she treasured. A part of him that she hadn’t seen before they got together.

“Well, we’ve barely spent any time together lately outside of work, with no one else here we could share a room without question.”

She smiles tightly as she starts to pull on her own clothes, focusing on the buttons of her blue shirt.

It had been nearly a year since they’d got together, Penelope’s shooting the catalyst that had pushed them towards each other. Haley knew about them, and so did Jack, the little boy spent most weekends they weren’t on a case with the both of them, but the team didn’t know. Their relationship a secret to the people they spent most of their time with, the people Emily had started to think of as her family.

At first, it had been fun, the secrecy adding to the intrigue, the excitement. Now, she hated it. She wanted nothing more than to tell her friends about her boyfriend, the man she loved in a way she once hadn’t been sure was possible. She wants to be able to reach out for him when appropriate, a comforting hand over his on the jet when a case impacted him more than he’d ever say. To seek comfort from him when she needed it, without having to wait until they got back to one of their apartments.

Aaron was still hesitant, citing the issues she knew it would cause at work to keep it secret for now, and it was starting to wear her down. She wanted to live with him, for the conversations about moving in together to move from hypotheticals to reality, but she knew they couldn’t yet. That it would have to wait until everything was out in the open. It left them in this stalemate, her feelings about being stuck pushed haphazardly into a box they kept escaping from, the lid never quite fitting properly.

They’d spoken about it last night over dinner once they arrived in Colorado. Things became tense before he said they’d talk about it when they got home, that he didn’t want to spend their free time together arguing. She’d agreed, holding back her comment that they couldn’t put off talking about it forever. She kissed him, putting everything into it. He had pulled back, immediately asking for the bill before they stumbled up to their room, all thoughts of anything except falling apart together lost into the night.

“Em.”

She looks up to find him looking at her, now wearing his suit, his tie over his shoulders but not yet done up. His expression tells her he knows exactly where her thoughts had drifted, and it makes her chest tight, her jaw clench. Irritation she didn’t want to feel towards him climbing up her throat.

“It’s fine, Aaron.” She says, straightening up as she pulls on her pants, brushing past him towards the ensuite. “You’ve made it clear you don’t want to talk about it.”

He grabs her arm, his hold gentle as he stops her going any further. “Sweetheart, I love you, it’s just…not as simple as we want it to be.”

Emily blows out a breath, shaking her head at him. The worst thing was, that she knew he was right. That, when Strauss and other higher-ups in the bureau found out, there would be repercussions of some sort. That he wanted to be careful, to do it right, so they could move forward with their work and their life together.

It didn’t make it any easier.

“I know,” she says, pulling her arm out of his hold, “doesn’t mean I have to like it though,” she looks him up and down, sighing before she walks away, “you should lose the tie, you look nothing like a social worker, you’ll give us away immediately.”

___

Things go south, fast.

The shootout with the state police and the death of the social worker leaves them both on edge, the interviews suspended as they are held in the church with all of the sect members. Emily watches from the back of the room, the members gathering as Cyrus stood at the front, the air thick with tension. She feels Aaron appear beside her, his mere presence calming her, the scent of his cologne washing over her.

“The others will already be on the way, if they aren’t here already,” he says, his voice low so only she can hear him. She looks up at him, her eyes meeting his, and she has to clench her fists at her sides to stop herself from reaching out for him. To provide and take comfort in equal measure, the situation they were in was precarious at best, “It’s likely to turn into a minimal loss scenario.”

She nods briefly, flashing him a tight smile. “I bet you wish you’d let Reid come along now.”

Aaron frowns, her attempt at humour failing, and his hand fleetingly ghosts over her back, his skin warming her through her shirt, her jacket long since abandoned due to the Colorado heat.

“It’s best for everyone that I’m here with you.” He says it so sternly, so sure, that it makes her frown at him, her eyebrows creasing. He looks at her softly, the way he only ever looked at her and Jack. “If I was out there and you were in here, I doubt there would be anything that would stop me from storming this place.”

It makes warmth spread throughout her entire body, love and affection for him threatening to make her forget where they were, her hands twitching at her side as she fights the instinct to reach out for him.

“You wouldn’t risk everyone else,” she replies, her eyes drifting towards the front of the room, watching carefully as Cyrus instructs for glasses of wine to be handed out.

“I’d risk everything for you.” Aaron says, his voice certain, a serious look on his face when she snaps back to look at him. An unkind thought crosses her mind, that if that was true why wouldn’t he tell the team about them, but she snaps out of it, knowing this truly wasn’t the time.

He had never lied to her before, she knew that, so it was unlikely he would start now.

Their conversation is cut short by Cyrus’s announcement that everyone had just drunk poison, revealed quickly to have just been a test of loyalty.

Emily feels her anxiety heighten, Aaron’s too if the way his shoulders tense even further is anything to go by, and she just hopes the team can get as many people out of the compound before it’s too late.

___

They are forced down a hallway and into a storage room, each thrown onto seats opposite each other. Emily does a quick look around the room, and she sees the supplies the team had sent in, and she knows there will be listening devices in there, that whatever happens next the others will overhear.

Cyrus walks into the room with his gun in his hand. There was silent fury on his face, controlled, and it made it all the more terrifying. She’s grateful for her ability to keep a straight face, for Aaron’s too, because it might just be the only thing that gets them through this alive.

“Which one of you is it?” Cyrus asks, looking back and forth between the two of them. The question makes her heart twist, her stomach lurching along with it because she knows what he’s somehow discovered.

Aaron looks at Emily briefly before turning to Cyrus, a look in her boyfriend's eyes that tells her to leave it to him.

“Which one of us is what?” Aaron asks, feigning ignorance as if he hadn’t figured out the exact same thing she had.

“The news is saying there’s an undercover agent in here,” Cyrus says, his temper clearly flaring, his grip on his gun tightening, “so which one of you is it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Aaron replies, “we’re just social workers.”

Cyrus laughs wryly, his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek as he shakes his head. He raises his gun and points it directly at Aaron’s head. Aaron doesn’t flinch, his eyes staring straight into Cyrus’s. Emily feels her heart beating wildly in her chest, and puts all of her focus into staying neutral, into not reacting.

“Is it you?” Cyrus asks Aaron, his grip on his gun tightening, his finger too close to the trigger for Emily’s liking. “I’ve got to say, I’ve met a lot of social workers in my time, and none of them looked like you.” He pauses, his jaw clenching as he waits for an answer Aaron wasn’t going to give him. “Is it you?” Cyrus repeats, his voice raising for the first time since he entered the store room.

“It’s me.” She says grateful her voice remains even. It takes a second for the two men to react, both of them turning to look at her with varying looks of surprise on their faces.

Cyrus nods, chuckling humourlessly as he takes a step towards her, his gun lowering but still pointing at Aaron. He gets close to her, close enough she can smell him, grime and dirt and something she’d call evil flowing off of him. He smirks at her before he hits her hard, his fist connecting with her cheek in a way she knows will leave her with a black eye. She expects another blow, but it doesn’t come, instead, Cyrus turns back to Aaron, who was still sitting down, his fists clenched at his sides the only outward sign of the fury he felt at seeing her hurt.

Cyrus doesn’t say a thing, he simply points his gun towards Aaron’s left arm and pulls the trigger. It happens in slow motion, every second an eternity as it plays out in front of her, her eyes widening as Aaron is hit. He screams out in pain, his right hand automatically reaching for where he’d been shot.

“Aaron,” She breathes out, her voice shaking as she stands without thinking. Concern for him outweighs everything else. She almost makes it to his side, her fingers grazing his arm, before she’s pulled back roughly by her hair, yelling out at the pain in her scalp. Cyrus throws her against the wall, a mirror shattering as she hits it, the glass sharp against her skin.

“I knew you two were fucking the second you stepped onto my property,” Cyrus all but spits at her, “you both stink of it.”

Emily looks back at Aaron over Cyrus’s shoulder, see’s the blood coming out of his wound, and her breath catches in her throat. She knows the team will be listening to this, that they’ll have heard the gunshot, the fact she’s been hurt. She knows it could get so much worse if they stormed the compound now.

“Leave him alone, he’s hurt but if you wanted him dead you’d have killed him,” Emily says, swallowing thickly against the lump in her throat, “I can take it.”

“Emily-” Aaron protests, his facade breaking for a second, his love for her clear on his face in a way she knows Cyrus will use against them later.

“I can take it,” she repeats, cutting him off, and she hopes the team understands her message, that they stay away for now.

Cyrus smirks at her before turning and getting the attention of one of his guards. He has her dragged from the room, and she looks back at Aaron, her eyes lingering on him until she is pulled completely out of view.

___

She’s barely able to keep still, pacing the room she’s being kept in, hoping she’d interpreted the message from the team correctly.

One way or the other, this would be over soon.

Jessica’s mother had come in and tended to her, wrapping the cut on her arm from the mirror in such a maternal way it made Emily’s heart ache for her, a brief interlude from the pain she could feel in her own chest. Emily asked her if Aaron was ok, hoping that she’d done the same for him, at least wrapped his arm to try and stop the bleeding, but she told her she was forbidden from telling her anything.

Emily can’t bare to keep still the second she’s alone, her thumbnails picked apart as she waits. All she can think about is Aaron, how he’s doing somewhere else in the compound. The tie she’d made him leave behind in their hotel room that morning, something he could have used as a makeshift tourniquet, plaguing her thoughts.

The door swings open, and she turns sharply to face it, unsurprised to find Cyrus there. Her head throbs with what she assumes is a mix of dehydration and the hit she’d taken, her face radiating with pain from where his fist had connected with her cheek.

“Where is he?” She asks, taking a step backwards as he steps into the room, wanting as much distance between them as possible.

“That's for me to know, and for you to find out,” he replies, clearly enjoying the situation, “and I don’t think you’re in a position to be the one asking the questions.”

She clenches her teeth tight together, her jaw tense, as she forces herself to keep her mouth shut, not wanting to make it worse for her, Aaron or any of the people in the compound.

It would be over soon.

“Good girl,” he sneers, stepping closer to her again. She doesn’t move this time, stands her ground as he smirks at her, not flinching when he trails his knuckles down the skin he had damaged. “If I told you I’d let you go, you and that boyfriend of yours, would you leave me and my people alone?”

The question surprises her, but she doesn’t show it. She clears her throat before she answers, the truth seeming like the only thing she had right now, the answer she knows Aaron would want her to give.

“No, I wouldn’t.”

He smiles, as if he had anticipated her answer. He takes a step back from her, his smile widening in a way that makes her feel sick.

“That's probably for the best,” he says as he turns, heading back towards the door, “seeing as he’s already dead.”

The door is slammed shut before she can react, her calls after him ignored. Her heart falls into her stomach, nausea threatening to overwhelm her. Preemptive grief fills her lungs, her legs shaking as she sits down on the bed, her arms wrapping around herself.

It was a lie, she was sure of it. Cyrus was lying to her to mess with her, to draw out a reaction from her that he wanted to see. She keeps repeating it to herself, again and again, in a vain attempt to believe it. Fear that it’s true, that she knows she won’t be able to shake off until she sees Aaron again, feels the warmth of his skin.

She sighs as she hears a noise outside, unsettling her even further.

It would be over soon.

___

Her ears ring after the explosion, her steps unsteady as she turns to look at it, Derek gripping at her arm, as if he knew she would set off running any second.

“Aaron,” she says quietly, and she tries to move forwards, but Derek holds her even harder. “Aaron.” She yells this time, desperately looking around, watching the few people still walking away from the building and towards them, hope fading with every passing second that she doesn’t see him. The team are spread out, helping the survivors, taking those with injuries towards the ambulances that were arriving.

“Em,” Derek says, trying to soothe her but she hears the fear in his voice that he can’t hide from her, “it’s Hotch, he’ll be fine.”

“Cyrus told me he was dead,” She chokes out, turning to look at Derek, her eyes filling with tears, “I thought he was lying but…”

She drifts off, her voice catching on a sob in her throat, the trauma of the last few days, the constant fear, catching up with her now it was over. It isn’t lost on her that this conversation is the first she’s ever had with her friend that alludes to her relationship with their boss.

The people walking out from the compound stop coming, no one left to walk out, and she still can’t see him. She feels cold despite the raging fire near them, and she thinks she could walk into it, turn to ash, and she’d feel nothing.

“I love him, Derek,” she says, her tears falling from her lashline, her lower lip trembling, “I can’t-”

She breaks, her words lost as her knees buckle, Derek holding her up, turning her so her face is pressed against his chest.

“You’re ok, Princess,” he says, his hand buried in her hair, “we’re here no matter what, ok?”

She sobs, sucking in a breath that shakes, making her chest ache. She wants to tell him that it wasn’t ok, that it couldn’t be, not when Aaron was gone.

“Emily?”

She turns sharply at the sound of his voice, her eyes meeting his as he yells her name over the roar of the fire behind him.

“Aaron,” she breathes out, relief almost flooring her, her legs shaking as she detaches herself from Derek, stumbling towards Aaron as he does the same, moving towards her on unsteady feet.

Any control she has over her emotions disappears the second she is in his arms. The way she’d held herself together since the social worker was killed in front of them shattering into pieces around them. She holds him tightly, her hands fisting in his grime and blood covered shirt, the smell of smoke overwhelming her, the scent of him poking through from underneath.

He holds her tightly, his lips pressed to her forehead before he buries his face in her hair. He pulls back from her his hand cupping her face, leaning in to kiss her. His breath is awful, days of having to forgo basic personal hygiene leaving a lot to be desired, and she knows hers is the same, but she never wants it to end, breathless when she pulls away from him.

“I love you.” He says, his voice croaking with exhaustion and pain. “I’m so glad you’re ok.” He strokes his thumb over her damaged skin, and she places her hand over his on her cheek.

“I love you too,” she replies, her words thick with tears, “I was so worried…I thought-” she cuts herself off, suddenly remembering that she’d seen him get shot, realising that his left arm was hanging by his side. She pulls back completely, her hand tangling with his good one as she looks at him properly. There was a dirty bandage wrapped around his arm, he looked tired, his skin pale and drawn, “We need to get you looked at.”

“You too,” he replies, and she rolls her eyes at him, a protest that she was fine on the tip of her tongue before he continues, “Sweetheart, you’re hurt, and probably just as dehydrated as I am, we’ll go together ok?”

Emily sighs but she nods at him, leaning in to kiss him once more before they walk towards the ambulances together, their hands linked together.

She feels the team staring at them, can almost feel the questions they’ll have to inevitably answer, but she can’t bring herself to care. ___

Aaron needs surgery, the bullet Cyrus had fired at him still lodged in his arm. Emily is seen by a nurse, the cut on her arm stitched up as she’s put on an IV, her mind clearing slightly as she’s rehydrated.

By the time she’s discharged, vaguely listening to the instructions to rest and how to look after her arm, Aaron is out of surgery and she’s shown to his room. She sits on the edge of his bed, one of her hands wrapped in his, the other fussing with his hair, floppy and unmanageable over his forehead after their days being held hostage. She had caught sight of herself in the mirror when she went to the bathroom, and she knew she looked just as bad as he did.

She smiles as he wakes, groaning as he opens his eyes. It feels like a lifetime ago since they woke up together in their hotel room, her worries about where their relationship was going, his hesitance to tell the team about them, now seeming insignificant.

“Hey honey,” she says quietly, smiling as his eyes meet hers, “how are you feeling?”

“I’m ok,” he replies, his voice rough, “how are you?”

She huffs out a laugh, leaning down to kiss him quickly. “You’re the one who was shot and you’re asking how I am.”

“He hit you Em, he…” he drifts off, clearing his throat before he continues, “he told me had carried on, that he’d beaten you until you were unconscious.” He tries to look stern, to frown at her like he used to before they were together, but it fails, exhaustion and the medication in his system making it lose its edge. “You shouldn’t have sacrificed yourself for me.”

“It’s not like it worked,” She says as she heaves in a shaky breath, and it comes back out sounding like a mix of a sob and a laugh, her hand tightening around his. “He still shot you, and don’t act like you wouldn’t have done it, I beat you to it by a few seconds.”

He can’t argue with that, so he doesn’t, simply squeezing her hand a little tighter. “Did he hurt you more?”

“He didn’t,” she assures him, trying and failing to smile encouragingly, “just the black eye, fractured cheekbone and cut on my arm.”

“Em.”

She winces at the tone in his voice, his disproval at the way she was playing down her injuries.

“Sorry,” she says, pushing his hair off of his forehead, “he told me you were dead,” she tells him, her tears returning, falling onto her cheeks immediately.

“Oh Em,” he replies, encouraging her down to kiss her again, “I’m sorry, that can’t have been easy.”

She laughs humourlessly, “It wasn’t, and I kept telling myself it wasn’t true, that you weren’t and that he was messing with me,” she wipes a stray tear from her cheek, “but when I didn’t see you after the explosion…”

He looks at her, all the love he doesn’t have to express, that she can feel whenever they are together, clear on his face.

“Come here.” He pulls at her hand, a clear attempt to get her to lay down with him, and she raises an eyebrow at him.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, honey. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You never could,” he says, and she rolls her eyes at him in response. “Come on baby, I’ve spent the last few days wanting nothing more than to hold you.”

She chokes out a sob, wiping her tears with her spare hand, shaking her head at him.

“Well, I can’t exactly say no to that, can I?” She replies, her smile letting him know she’d wanted the exact same thing.

She carefully climbs into bed, successfully not jolting his injured arm, curling up into his right side, her head against his neck. She feels a sense of calm, of peace, that she hadn’t felt in days when he wraps his arm around her. He turns his head to kiss her forehead, the cannula delivering him oxygen post-surgery scratching against her skin.

“The others know,” she says carefully, feeling able to say it now she wasn’t looking directly at him, sure she wouldn’t be able to take anything close to disappointment on his face, “I spoke to them before I came to see you, filled in the basic details.”

His hand runs gently up and down her arm, “Well, it’s not the ideal way for them to find out, but I’m glad they know.”

She pulls back to look at him, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “Wait, what?”

“It’s not that I didn’t want to tell them, Em, it’s just it will complicate things. I was so focused on how it would be at work that I stopped thinking about how it was hurting you.”

“Aaron-”

“And when I was in the room he kept me in, all I could think was that if I died there I never would have been able to tell the world how much I love you,” he says sincerely, making more tears gather in her eyes, “and that would have been my biggest regret.”

She scoffs, the sound lost in a sob as she shakes her head at him, wiping tears from her cheeks.

“Damn it, Aaron. Please at least wait until I’ve had some sleep before you start saying sweet shit like that.”

“Sorry, baby,” he replies, leaning down to kiss her. She breaks away and rests her head back on his shoulder, “when we get back we should work on finding somewhere new to live,” he says, kissing the side of her head, “I don’t want to waste any more time.”

“That sounds perfect,” she replies, pressing her lips into his neck, “We’ve really got to stop doing this you know?” She says, yawning as she speaks, the hand trailing up and down her arm lulling her to sleep.

“Stop doing what?”

“Making big life decisions after someone from the team is shot,” she replies, blinking her eyes open to look at him, smiling sleepily when he looks confused, “I kissed you after Pen was shot, you asked me to move in with you after you’ve been shot,” she scrunches her nose up slightly, “what the hell is going to have to happen to get you to propose?”

He laughs at her, shaking his head as he kisses her forehead. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.”

She hums, already halfway there, finally finding the sleep she’d been denied since they woke up wrapped around each other in the hotel room.

Weeks later, when Aaron’s arm has healed and is back at work, the team present them with a ‘moving in’ gift for the house they are still yet to buy. She unwraps it to find a photo of the two of them in his hospital bed, fast asleep and holding each other.

It takes pride of place on their mantel the day they move in.

-x-

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lady-morrigen · 2 years

Text

Tango in the Night (Repost)

Let Me Follow: Chapter One | Chapter Two

Pairing: Santi “Pope” Garcia x Frankie “Catfish” Morales x female reader

Words: 11k +

Warnings: this fic is absolutely filthy, I’m not going to lie to you. Reader is going to Paris, which is why you’re here. There’s cursing, dirty talk, oral, reader gives a fantastic bj, fingering, vaginal sex, anal sex, DP. There’s some angst at the end and minor character death. brief alcohol use.

A/N: This was written as a collab between myself and my soulmate, @acrossthesestars 🖤 It was originally posted to her account in May '21 and the link to the original ao3 post can be found here. Since she is moving all of her fic exclusively to ao3, we agreed that re-posting from my account would be a good way to keep it available for those of you who enjoyed reading it when it was posted. I will also be posting the update that we wrote as part of last year's kinktober a little bit later. This does not mean I'm coming back to the fandom. For all of you that gave this story love when it was originally posted, we thank you. This story is the first fic that Alex ever posted and to see how she's flourished since just makes my heart so happy! Go check out her fics on ao3 and leave her lots of love!

masterlist | taglist

Smoke filled the dimly lit bar, curling around your face and covering everything in a dingy haze. Sweat dripped down your neck and between the valley of your breasts; your already hypersensitive skin tingling with every drop that slid down your body. The tequila had kicked in, giving you some liquid courage and adding an extra sway in your hips as you danced to the music coming out of the old jukebox.

You felt their eyes on you before you actually saw them. Running your hands down your body and up into your hair, you turned around and were pinned in place by two sets of dark eyes.

One pair belonged to a shorter man, almost stocky but certainly well built. His jaw looked like it was carved from marble and his hair was greying at the temples. He wore a short sleeved black shirt over a simple grey tee that hugged his defined chest, leaning against the bench with his arms draped against the back and his legs spread wide; a playful smirk on his handsome face. The other set of eyes belonged to someone slightly taller and obviously more reserved. He wore a short-sleeved button-up shirt that hung off of his broad shoulders in a way that accentuated just enough of his frame to let you know that he was as well built as his friend. The grey shirt was patterned with white cranes and looked silky; the kind of shirt you would wear around the house in nothing but your underwear. His dark jeans were tight around his thighs and you couldn’t help but notice how the muscles of his forearms rippled as he crossed them over his chest. His eyes hadn’t left your frame for more than two seconds since the moment he spotted you.

The shorter one nodded in your direction and his friend leaned in to whisper something in his ear, making his smile spread farther. You blushed under their attention and continued to sway under the lights of the bar, turning your back to them and lifting your hair off of your neck for some small relief from the oppressive heat. You threw what you hoped was a sultry glance over your shoulder back towards their table but to your surprise and disappointment the booth was empty. You pouted as you spun back towards the bar but before you could take a step strong hands wound their way around your waist, touching your stomach far more intimately than you would typically allow from a stranger. Those same hands pulled you back against a taut stomach and a muscular chest. You stumbled but he caught you, his breath warm against the shell of your ear.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you, gorgeous,” he said just above the din of the music. His voice was warm like honey and you relaxed instantly in his arms. The smile you heard in his tone led you to believe this was the shorter one with the wicked grin. You looked over your shoulder and confirmed your suspicion. His face was open and handsome, his jaw covered in five o clock shadow that made you weak in the knees. You reached a hand back and ran your fingers over that stubble as you tossed him a smirk.

“And what’s your name?” you asked as you began to sway along to the beat with him.

“Santiago, but my friends get to call me Santi. And you?” You gave him your name and he repeated it back, the sound of it on his lips was almost sinful. His hands continued to travel your body as you allowed yourself to grind against him in earnest. He let out a rough groan and you giggled at the sound, loving that you were getting a reaction out of such a cocky man.

“And your friend? Does he have a name?”

“Catfish? Well, he’d probably want you to call him Frankie,” he said with a chuckle as he nuzzled against your neck with his nose. You reached around and lifted your hair out of the way, reveling in the feeling of Santi behind you. He pressed a hot, open mouth kiss against the nape of your neck and the feeling sent shivers down your spine and electricity sparking across your skin. When you could finally focus, you looked forward and right into the soft brown eyes of Frankie. A smile tugged at your lips when you saw him trying to keep a straight face. His arms were crossed across his broad chest and he was leaning against the wall by the jukebox.

A nibble on your earlobe drew a small moan from you and brought your attention back to Santi. When you turned your head to look over your shoulder you saw him holding eye contact with his friend. You watched as a wolfish grin spread across his face as he gently tugged your hair and pulled your head to the side, exposing your neck to Frankie.

A handsome blonde man appeared across the room, sidling up to Frankie. He gave you a once over as he took a swig from his beer before leaning in and saying something with a smirk. You sensed more than you heard the growl from Frankie before Santi pulled you tighter against his body and you felt the hard length of him against your ass. You gasped and closed your eyes for a split second, to revel in that feeling of being so openly desired, but when you opened them again Frankie was gone, leaving just the blonde man with a shocked expression slapped across his face. You swallowed your disappointment and closed your eyes again, allowing yourself to get lost in the music; the only thing keeping you grounded was the firm touches of the man holding you against his chest.

You were shocked to feel a calloused hand cup gently cup your face. As you blinked your eyes open, you found that you were face-to-face with the stranger in the grey shirt. Frankie. That’s what Santi said you should call him. His warm brown eyes searched your own to make sure that it was ok that he joined you. Your mischievous smile was enough for him. He took a step forward, slotting his knee between your legs and placing both hands on your hips as he guided you against his leg in time with the music.

His hips moved with you, making sure that you never lost contact with his muscular thigh as he tilted his head forward and pressed his forehead to yours. For all his obvious shyness, Frankie sure could dance. Santi’s hands slipped down your thighs and he began to gather your dress in his fists, pulling it up slowly until you were all but exposed. You had on a flimsy lace thong, but you might as well have been naked between them. One song melted into the next and soon the three of you were a sweating, writhing mess on the dance floor. You’re not sure when it happened, but you and Frankie had stopped with the playful, teasing nose bumps and progressed into open-mouthed kisses as you grabbed at fistfuls of his curly brown hair. Your tongues were exploring each other in a frenzy, exchanging heavy breaths with the rise and fall of the music; your teeth clashing together in messy desperation. You were sure that people were staring, but you didn’t care. As far as you were concerned, there was no one else in the club other than you and the two men you’d found yourself tangled up in.

You dropped your head back on Santi’s shoulder and saw the two of them share a glance. Santi took a step back and pulled you away from Frankie, who threw you a wink and a smile when he heard your noise of protest.

“Don’t worry, he’ll be back,” Santi said with a laugh as he dragged you back to the booth the two of them had shared earlier in the evening. He stood back as you slid in, the faded leather sticking slightly to your sweaty thighs. Once again he leaned back and spread his arms wide across the back of the seat, his eyes slightly glazed from the alcohol and the feeling of your hands on his body. He reached over and brushed a strand of hair out of your eyes and dragged his calloused fingertips down your neck, causing your skin to erupt in goose bumps.

Everywhere he had touched you felt as if it was on fire and you found yourself beginning to resent how unaffected he seemed when you felt as if you were burning to ash. You cocked your head at him and rested your hand high on his thigh, biting your lip when you saw him swallow hard; his grin becoming brittle as you scooted closer and pressed your breasts against his side. You nuzzled your nose against his jaw again and pressed a kiss behind his ear when you felt him shudder under your renewed attention. He turned his face towards you, his sinful mouth just a breath from yours.

“Where did your friend run off to?” you asked casually as you peeled yourself off of Santi. His eyes had gone unfocused while you had kissed his neck and he shook his head to clear it of the fog that had fallen over him.

“Well, what do you know? Here he comes. But I don’t know how Frankie feels about sharing,” Santi said loud enough for his friend to hear, his smirk back in full force and his confidence regained. “You might have to convince him.”

Frankie had approached the table holding a tray filled with more shots of tequila and a few glasses of water, condensation beading on the glass. He set it on the table gently before sliding into the booth on your other side and clearing his throat. The look in his eyes was unsure, almost innocent but for the fire that sparked and smoldered when he looked you up and down, taking in how the sweat from dancing had plastered the thin fabric of your dress to your body. You leaned towards Frankie and reached for a glass of water, sipping slowly and never breaking eye contact, letting out a little shiver when you felt Santi tracing designs on the skin of your back. You had just been kissing him on the dance floor, but something about the raw vulnerability in Frankie’s eyes made you feel shy and eager to please. You reached down and lightly ran your hand up his thigh, reveling in the shudder that coursed through him at your touch. His eyes were all over you, flicking from your teasing hand to your flushed chest to your bottom lip that you’d coyly pulled between your teeth. He shifted in his seat, doing a poor job of covertly adjusting the bulge forming under his jeans. You used his sudden motion as an excuse to “accidentally” brush your palm against his growing cock. His eyes snapped to yours and when you gave him a lazy smile he lifted his hips again, this time with purpose, and you flexed your fingers against his considerable length. He dropped his head back and groaned and Santi leaned forward and pressed a kiss against your shoulder, scraping his teeth lightly against your salty skin.

Santi was the first to pull away, leaning back against the booth and bumping your thigh with his own to get your attention.

“So what’s a pretty American like you doing down here?” he asked as he reached for one of the water glasses. You turned to look at him over your shoulder, your eyes catching on the way his throat flexed as he swallowed.

“Peace corps,” you replied as you flicked your eyes up to meet his gaze. His brow furrowed, like he thought your answer was quaint.

“Peace corps?” he asked with a grin.

“Yes,” you said, tartly; annoyed with being mocked. “After college I wanted to travel, do something meaningful with my time. Maybe try and undo some of the damage that’s been done to places like this. In my own small way.”

Santi’s eyes widened at your explanation, still smiling but far less incredulous now. He raised his hands in mock surrender at the conviction in your answer. Behind you Frankie chuckled and you whipped around to face him, ready to lash out, but the look on his face was proud and he simply reached up and gently caught your chin between his fingers.

“That’s good work you’re doing,” he said in a gravelly tone and you preened under his sweet attention, nuzzling your cheek against his hand.

You heard the clink of glasses and looked down at the table to see a shot set in front of you as Santi pushed another towards Frankie, who was rolling his eyes at his friend. He opened his mouth to turn down the booze but you just laughed and rose to the challenge, not looking away from him you downed the shot. He shook his head at the way you grimaced and groaned, the alcohol burning down your throat until it settled in your chest. A hearty laugh behind you brought your attention back to Santi and you turned to face him with a dark look. He just smirked and downed his own shot.

That one shot turned into a few more and soon the three of you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other; laughing and joking and telling stories but always touching, hands wandering beneath the table. While you were sure this bar was no stranger to scenes like this, you felt it was time to see if these boys would put up or shut up. You knew that if you invited them back to your apartment, and they actually accepted, you would be in for an unforgettable experience.

You shuffled in your seat, sweeping your gaze from one man to the other, and leaned against Frankie. Your eyes fell shut as the warmth from his broad chest seeped through the fabric of your dress. You sighed in contentment and let out a soft, snorting laugh. As you settled your back against Frankie’s chest, his own laugh vibrated low and gravely through his chest, jostling you slightly. You reached out and tangled your fingers in the collar of Santi’s t-shirt, his eyes going wide at the dominant gesture, and tugged him towards you. You stopped him just short of meeting your lips and as your breaths tangled together you found your courage.

“I live about two blocks away. Can I convince you boys to join me?”

The words were barely out of your mouth before Frankie stiffened behind you, his hands clenching around your hips, and Santi let out a whooping laugh and began to push at your thighs.

“Lead the way, woman,” he said in a rush and you couldn’t help but chuckle at his excitement. Frankie slid from the booth and reached down to help you out, pulling you close to his chest on your way up. The look in his eyes had gone from soft to smoldering and you shivered under his gaze.

Santi pushed open the door to the alley and held it with a mock bow as you stumbled out, giggling and clutching at Frankie’s hand; more drunk on their attention than the tequila. Frankie had started to loosen up, his smile wider and coming more easily than it had on the dancefloor. He spun you in a graceless circle, laughing softly when you tripped over your own feet. Santi caught you before you could do any damage, chuckling at your antics. As he pulled you upright you clutched at his chest, your hands bunching in the sweat soaked fabric of his shirt and short nails raking across the skin of his pecs. His eyes went dark at the new sensation, pupils blown wide, and he tightened his grip on your hips. He stalked forward until your back was flush against Frankie’s chest and then he was on you, all teeth and tongue. Suddenly it was Frankie’s hands on your hips, holding you steady as Santi threaded his hands through your hair, growling into your mouth as he deepened the kiss. There was a groan behind you and you felt Frankie start to grow hard against your ass as he ground into you, trapping you between his body and Santi’s.

Frankie nuzzled against your neck, peppering it with open mouthed kisses, as Santi pulled your bottom lip between his teeth and you moaned into his mouth. Frankie’s hand had travelled down your leg, bunching your skirt and pulling it up your thigh. You reached behind you to tug at the curls at the nape of his neck, coaxing a broken groan from him that shot straight through you. His hands continued their journey up your thigh until he met the soaking fabric of your panties. You dropped your weight back on him at the feeling, held up only by Santi’s hands in your hair as he sucked a bruise on your neck.

“Fuck, Frankie. Please,” you begged raggedly, not even sure what you were asking for but knowing that you needed more. Frankie growled in your ear at the sound of his name, the noise making you even weaker in the knees. Santi, not wanting to be outdone, ground against you as he claimed your lips in another soul searing kiss. You gasped at the feel of him, hard against you and tugged him closer by his waistband, drawing a snarl from him as you fought with the button on his jeans. Frankie’s thick fingers had slipped under the fabric of your underwear and spread you open. He wasted no time in finding your clit, making your eyes cross at the sensation of his rough skin against you. He slipped one finger inside of you, immediately following with a second and pumping in and out of you slowly. You cried out at the feeling of stretching around him but before the sound had escaped Santi had slipped two fingers into your mouth to muffle the noise. Your eyes flew open to find him looking down his nose at you, demanding and almost arrogant. You moaned around his fingers before twisting your tongue around them and sucking hard. He bit his plush bottom lip and hissed at the feeling of your hot mouth.

Santi reached down and helped you with the button on his pants and you immediately dove in, gasping when you got a hold on him. He was thick and hot in your hand, jumping when you gave a firm stroke. Frankie bit down on your earlobe, demanding your attention and you reached back to tangle your free hand in his hair. You pulled him down for a kiss and opened your mouth for him, sucking gently on his tongue and making him moan. He sped his fingers up, pushing you closer to that edge you’d felt yourself teetering on since you met them. Your knees gave out and the only thing holding you up was Frankie’s fingers inside of you and your grip on Santi’s cock. Frankie sensed what you needed and added another finger, making you moan and swallowing the sound with a particularly aggressive kiss.

“Look at you, all spread open on his fingers where anyone could see,” Santi said with a growl, his eyes focused on the spot where Frankie’s fingers disappeared inside of you. You flushed, half with shame at the truth of the statement and half with excitement that you could be caught out here with them, and continued to stroke Santi’s cock. He hissed again as you twisted your grip and pressed his forehead against yours. You shook as Frankie brushed his thumb against your clit, scissoring his fingers inside of you and making you see stars.

“You’re such a dirty girl, aren’t you? You wouldn’t stop us if we wanted to fuck you out here in the open. You’d love it if we split you open on our cocks right here in this alley,” Santi said darkly as he thrust up into your hand, shaking with the effort to not rip you out of your dress. Frankie growled in agreement as your head dropped back on his shoulder.

Santi crowded into your space and whispered against your neck.

“You’re soaking wet right now, dripping down his hand. He could make you cum right now if he wanted to. I bet if you asked real nice Frankie would make you cum so hard you see stars."

“Frankie please…please…I need,” you babbled as you struggled to stay upright.

“Tell him what you need, little girl.”

“Frankie please, I need to cum. I need to come for you,” you cried out as Frankie ground his cock against your ass and pushed even deeper inside of you, curling his fingers to hit that spot your own were never quite long enough to find yourself. Your vision went white behind your eyelids and you made to shout but were cut off by an almost painful kiss from Santi. With one more brush against your clit starlight exploded in your veins and you came hard around Frankie’s fingers, crying out against Santi’s lips.

After a moment Santi pulled away and began to stuff himself, still rock hard, back into his jeans. Frankie pulled his hands from your soaked underwear and pressed a kiss to your temple before pulling your dress back down to cover your thighs. You still leaned against him, basking in the afterglow of such a powerful orgasm. He made to wipe your juices on his pants but you caught his hand before he could and held it out in front of you, catching Santi’s eyes with a grin and a raised eyebrow. He cocked his head, unsure if you were seriously challenging him but unwilling to back down and slowly leaned in. He threw a look at his friend and whatever he saw in his eyes made him confident enough to bend down slightly and pull Frankie’s glistening fingers between his lips to gently suck your juices off, savoring the taste with a hum. Frankie brushed against your ass with a groan, still hard and trying to find some friction, the feeling of Santi’s mouth and you pressed against his cock becoming overwhelming. You moaned at the sight and never broke eye contact as he moved from digit to digit. When he finished he pulled you in for a kiss so you could taste yourself on him and you melted into his arms.

“So where can we take this party that won’t get us arrested?” he asked with a smirk as he broke the kiss. You stuck your tongue out at him and shoved at his chest weakly before turning around and pushing Frankie a few steps in front of you, rolling your eyes at his brazen friend. He just let out a laugh and fell into step beside you. Santi surprised you by reaching for your hand. You looked into his eyes, shocked to find some insecurity there. You tugged him close, tucking him into your side as you wrapped your fingers around Frankie’s bicep and led them to your apartment.

You shut the door quietly behind you, the lock catching with a strange finality. You were grateful for the radio you had left playing before you had headed to the bar, knowing that if it was silent in the apartment you might have lost your nerve. Your anxiety was soothed by the familiar notes of Tango in the Night floating across the studio from the speaker on your nightstand.

All you had time for was one steadying breath before Santi was on you, his hands firm on either side of your jaw as he pressed you back and against the door. You could feel how tightly he was wound as you ran your hands up his muscled back, scratching against him on your way back down. He moaned into your mouth and it spurred you on. You lifted a leg and wrapped it around his hip. He reached down and gripped your thigh hard, grinding his now obvious erection against your center, giving you the delicious friction you’d been craving. He broke away from your mouth to place love bites along the column of your neck while you pushed the undone button up off of his shoulders, his teeth scraping hard and his tongue licking the salt from your skin. The noise he pulled from you was loud and long and you barely recognized it as your own voice.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so pretty like this,” he moaned against your throat and the feeling was almost overwhelming. A groan from farther in the room caught your attention and you turned your head.

Frankie was standing to the left of the door, glued in place as he watched the two of you with lust-blown eyes. You hadn’t had time to turn on the lights and he was back lit by the warm glow of the streetlamp outside your window, the effect dizzying. He had one hand slicked back through his hair and the other was busy palming himself over his jeans. The look on his face was one of pure desperation, but you could tell that he wasn’t going to get in on the action unless he was given permission. Santi was still kissing his way down your throat and the pure bliss had left you speechless. All you could manage to get out was a pitiful squeak of Frankie’s name as you reached for him weakly. Santi noticed this and pulled away from you for a moment, ignoring your whimpering protest, and walked over to where Frankie was standing. He placed a strong hand at the back of Frankie’s neck, pulling him over to where you were writhing against the wall.

He took a step back to allow Frankie to stand in front of you as you gazed up at him with doe eyes. His large hands ghosted over your frame as he took you in, trying to decide which part of you to touch first. To help him with his decision, you wrapped one arm around his neck and hitched the opposite leg over his hip. You pulled him down for a bruising kiss as his hand found your thigh, holding it in place as he began grinding his bulge against you. His other hand found the base of your neck, tangling his thick fingers in your hair as he pulled you in to deepen the kiss. His hand on your thigh crept upwards slowly, under the skirt of your dress, and splaying across the bare skin of your ass. You let out a small yelp as his fingers dug into the soft flesh. Frankie let out a low growl as he bit down on your lower lip.

In one smooth motion, you swung the other leg up onto his hip, hooking your feet behind his back so that he was now holding you up against the wall. Grunting from the effort, Frankie shifted you up a bit and spun you around towards the couch. As he carried you over, both hands slid under your skirt. With one, he was desperately kneading at one of your ass cheeks as the other slipped down to your slick center, pushing the lace aside so he could run his fingers over your entrance. He let out a loud groan when he felt how wet you still were for him.

Frankie turned and took a seat on the couch, adjusting you so that you were straddling him. You began to slowly circle your hips on his lap, finally finding the friction you’d been so desperate for. You tossed your head back in pleasure, surprised to feel something solid behind you. Santi had appeared behind the two of you and positioned himself between Frankie’s open legs to cage you in from behind. His hands slid around your waist and up your stomach, stopping when he reached your breasts. He gave them a few gentle squeezes, testing their soft weight in his palms. Quicker than you could follow, one of his hands was in your hair and he tugged your head back. You moaned at the feeling, almost painful but full of a burning pleasure, as he leaned down and swallowed the sound. His tongue was in your mouth, tender compared to his hand holding your head to the side and exposing your neck. He dropped to his knees and pressed kisses against your throat. You felt him grasp the zipper on the back of your dress and pull down, tortuously slow. He kissed and nipped at every inch of skin that was revealed.

Frankie’s hips bucked up against you and your eyes flew open at the feeling of him. His gaze was hooded as he reached up and gently slid the thin straps of your dress off of your shoulders. You reached back for him, going for the buttons on his shirt; unfastening them with trembling hands and making sure to lightly scrape your nails against the skin of his chest. He sucked in a shaky breath and you stored the information away in the back of your mind, knowing it would be useful later. Santi reached up and twisted the straps all the way off your arms and you felt the humid breeze from the ceiling fan brush across your naked chest before he caressed you reverently. Goosebumps erupted over your skin and you let out a small whimper. Frankie sat forward suddenly, pushing you out of the cradle of his lap and towards his knees.

“Stand up for me, baby,” he murmured and you marveled at the husky quality of his voice as you stood. In a way that felt surprisingly gentle Santi began to pull the dress down your body, Frankie’s hands ghosting along the same path, before the fabric pooled at your feet and you stood before them in nothing but your barely there underwear. Instead of feeling vulnerable you felt powerful. Santi’s hands were on your shoulders and he turned you to face him, his eyes dark and his chest heaving with deep breaths. The shadows across his face made him appear almost predatory and your breath caught in your chest, an ache settling deeper in your lower belly as you reached for him. He wound his arms around you, hooking a finger beneath the waistband of your underwear and pulling them down; gazing at you from under his lashes as you stepped out of them. His kiss was aggressive as he walked you a few steps backwards. You buckled when the back of your knees hit Frankie and you lowered yourself onto his lap. Santi dropped back to his knees, his hands going to your thighs and pushing them apart.

He started at your right knee; his stubble setting your sensitive skin on fire as he kissed his way towards your inner thigh. His strong hands held your hips in place as you writhed on Frankie’s lap, desperate to feel his mouth where you needed it the most. He looked up at you, cocking his eyebrow and giving you a devilish grin before ghosting his hot breath over your center and starting over at your left knee. Frankie’s hands cupped your breasts and he pinched your pebbled nipples between his calloused fingers. Your back arched off of him, exposing the sweat slicked skin of your neck to his mouth. He placed a kiss to your jawline at the same time Santi’s kisses had made their way up to your inner thigh. You groaned loudly when he stopped just short.

“You gotta ask nicely, baby,” he said with a smirk.

“Santi…” you whined, “Please.” You were breathless and desperate; a sweaty mess begging for him to put his mouth on you. Your hands found his thick curls and you gave them a sharp tug.

“Please,” you repeated. There was a little more of a commanding edge to your tone now.

“Yes ma’am,” he nodded, exchanging a glance with Frankie. He shifted a little and spread your legs further apart so that he could get a good look at you. He drew in a sharp breath as his eyebrows knit together and his face contorted in pleasure.

“Holy shit,” he breathed. “Look at you. So fucking beautiful.”

With that, his mouth was on you. He found your clit immediately and latched on, the pleasure from the suction causing your hips to buck against him. His hand landed on your stomach, holding you in place as he continued. He brought one finger up to tease at your entrance before expertly circling his tongue around your clit. You bit down on the back of your hand to stifle the moan that threatened to escape your throat. Frankie gently pulled your hand away and laced his fingers with yours by his side.

“Let us hear you, baby,” he whispered against the shell of your ear. You whimpered as he pinched your nipple, drawing another moan from the back of your throat. “That’s it… We wanna know how good we’re making you feel.”

Santi hummed against you in agreement and the vibration sent a shock wave through your body as he slid one thick finger inside of you and curled it upwards. You arched your back and cried out, the sound broken. His laugh was low and dark and he pushed another finger inside of you and latched onto your clit. You bucked at the sensation of fullness and Frankie’s hand came down hard against your middle to hold you in place, his hand gripping the fingers that Santi had splayed across your stomach earlier to hold you down. You began to ride his fingers in earnest as Frankie bit down on your neck with more force than you’d experienced from him so far. You moaned as you watched Santi’s grip on Frankie’s hand tighten but then you were lost to the sight of his other hand disappearing inside of you. You writhed against Frankie, grinding against his cock and savoring the groan it pulled from him. You reached down for the back of Santi’s shirt and yanked, tugging it over his head gracelessly. Your mouth went dry at the sight of his naked chest. His pecs were defined and shadows danced across his abs before falling over the sharp vee that disappeared under the low slung waistband of his jeans. He smirked at the appreciative look in your eyes before diving back in and devouring your pussy like a starving man.

“God, baby. You’re doing so good,” Frankie groaned as his hands explored any part of your body he could reach from beneath you. He was peppering your neck and shoulder with kisses in between tender praises. You had reached one hand back to tangle your fingers in his hair and the other had Santi’s curls in a vice grip as you guided him against you. You were soaked with sweat, but the chill from the fan and the overwhelming sensation of Santi’s tongue working you had your skin covered in goosebumps. He sucked hard on your clit, grazing it lightly with his teeth, and added a third finger. The combination was overwhelming and had you gasping for breath. He twisted his fingers and light exploded behind your eyes, your orgasm ripping through you and making your back arch. Frankie’s hand came to rest over your heart, holding you against him as you came down from your high.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Frankie said with reverence as he brushed the hair out of your face. You were sure that you were just a sweaty mess at this point but the look in his eyes made you feel incredible.

“So beautiful,” Santi agreed as he lifted himself from the floor with a small grunt of effort. He reached down and rubbed at his knees, his face scrunched between concentration and pain. You looked back at Frankie with a question in your eyes as he leaned forward to press a kiss against your temple.

“He’s got bad knees. The military wrecked ‘em,” he said in a low voice, as not to alert Santi, who was still massaging his kneecaps. The sight made your chest clench and you slid to the floor in front of him, his eyes going wide. You lightly ran your hands over his legs, gently applying pressure to the spots that seemed to be bothering him. He groaned in relief and let his head fall back against his shoulders. You felt Frankie’s fingers tangle in your hair and you took it as encouragement to continue, massaging higher up on his thighs than strictly necessary. You felt Santi’s eyes on you as you began to unfasten the button on his jeans. His mouth fell open as you tugged on the material, letting his black boxer briefs fall along with them. His cock sprang free, hard and thick and glistening at the tip. You leaned forward and licked from base to tip, drawing a choked moan from deep in his chest. Suddenly his hands were under your arms and he jerked you to standing.

“Bed,” he growled and the sound went straight to your core. You jerked your chin towards your bed and he swatted your ass and ground out a command to go. You obeyed but held out a hand to Frankie. He wrapped his fingers in yours and rose off the couch, pulling you back against his chest and making the walk to the other side of the studio more difficult but lovely. You laughed as he fake growled against your neck, feeling his smile spread wide against your skin. Santi prowled after you and the sight killed the laughter in your throat, replacing it with something that felt a little dangerous. He met the two of you at the foot of the bed but before he could grab for you, you stepped out of his reach and behind him. You stood on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his neck, nibbling lightly at the skin behind his ear. His hand found your thigh and squeezed as you sucked a bruise on his skin.

“I think Frankie needs some help out of those jeans,” you whispered against the skin of his neck. His head whipped back to look at you but whatever he saw in your eyes must have convinced him that you were serious. He squared his shoulders and crossed the small space separating him from his friend and looked up to meet his gaze. Frankie hadn’t taken his eyes off you but Santi caught his nod and pushed the shirt from his shoulders. You shivered as it fluttered to the floor and Santi reached for the button on Frankie’s jeans, undoing it with practiced ease and pushing the material down his trim hips.

When he stood in nothing but his boxers Santi reached for the waistband, tucking his fingers under the elastic and pulling Frankie closer before pushing them down his legs to puddle on the floor. Frankie stepped out of the pile of clothes but before he strode towards you he paused and approached Santi, leaning in and gently nuzzling his cheek with his nose. The sight knocked the air from your lungs, simultaneously domestic and the most erotic thing you’d ever seen. At the same time they turned to face you, twin looks of hunger on their handsome faces.

You sauntered over and appraised them both for a moment, making note of the way the dim light played across their faces. Cupping one hand around the back of Frankie’s neck, you pulled him down for a kiss. With the other hand, you reached over and grabbed Santi’s, pulling him to stand behind you so that you could grind yourself against him. Frankie’s knees were against the edge of the bed already, so you gently guided him down and told him to lie back. He did as he was instructed, propping his head up on his arms so that he could watch as you wrapped both hands around his cock and gave him a few pumps. With a playful wiggle of your ass, you tossed a mischievous look over your shoulder to Santi. Getting the message, he stepped up and grabbed your hips before using one hand to line himself up with your entrance and rubbing soothing circles at the base of your spine with the other.

You turned your attention back to Frankie and gave him a wink before taking him as far into your mouth as you could. A sinful moan erupted from his chest as he tossed his head back against the bed in pleasure, his back arching softly. You held him there until tears formed at your eyes and you gagged, pulling off of him as a trail of saliva connected your lips to his dick. Frankie dared to look back down at you just as you swirled your tongue over the tip and hollowed your cheeks, taking him in a few more inches. Santi had begun to slide the head of his cock through your wet folds and slapped it once against your clit for good measure, making you yelp. As he teased himself at your entrance, you gripped the base of Frankie’s dick in your hand and licked the underside before you took just the head between your lips again.

“You ready for me, baby?” you heard Santi ask from behind you. You gave a nod of agreement as Frankie’s hand came up to gently grip your hair. He held you still, his eyes flicking back and forth between your face and Santi’s intently as Santi lined himself up and slowly pressed into you. Your eyes went wide from the pleasure before closing as you felt Frankie begin to slowly lower your mouth back down onto his cock. You moaned when you realized that he was trying to time it perfectly with Santi sheathing himself inside of you. Slowly, you began to stretch around Santi’s thick cock and had taken as much of Frankie’s as possible. When Santi bottomed out inside of you, he hit that sweet spot that made you see stars and you couldn’t stop the cry that bubbled up from your throat. The vibration of your throat around his dick nearly sent Frankie into a tailspin and it was all he could do to stop himself from fucking up into your mouth.

As Santi began to slowly pull out of you, Frankie gently used your hair to pull you off inch-by-inch. The two of them set a rhythm; Santi was slowly pumping in and out of you as Frankie helped you bob up and down on his dick. Their movements were slow and deliberate, wanting to drag this pleasure out as long as they could while making sure that you were still enjoying yourself. Santi gathered a little bit of the slick running down your thigh onto his thumb and brought it up to your exposed ass. As he gently swirled it around the sensitive puckered area, you began to buck against his hand. He took that as a sign to keep it up and applied gentle pressure before fully inserting the tip of his finger inside. He let out a strained groan as he felt your walls clench around him at this new sensation of fullness.

You gasped both for pleasure and for air as you lifted your face off of Frankie’s dick. Gripping the base with one hand, you used the other to spread your saliva and pump him rhythmically. You were full-on fucking yourself back against Santi; meeting him thrust for thrust as you felt another orgasm building in your belly. The indecent squelching sounds of your hands on Frankie’s cock, the slapping of your skin against Santi’s hips, and a trio of moans were filling the room and drowning out Clapton’s melodic guitar coming from the radio.

“Santi, baby,” you gasped, tossing your head back in ecstasy. “That feels so fucking good.”

“Santiago,” you heard him growl from behind you. “Christ… call me Santiago.”

“ Santiago… ” You moaned his name, loving the way it felt in your mouth and looked back over your shoulder to catch his gaze as he pounded into you. As soon as his full name fell from your lips, a broken moan escaped through his and his face contorted in pleasure. His pace quickened and his trusts became sloppy, hitting the sensitive spot inside of you every time he bottomed out. Just as you were sure you were about to crash over the edge, Santi pulled himself out of you completely, gripping hard at the base of his cock as he took a step backward.

“Sorry, baby. Fuck… I was too close and I’m not finished with you yet,” he panted through heaving breaths. You cried out in frustration, letting your head fall limp, only to be pulled up onto the bed by Frankie’s strong arms.

He captured your lips in a desperate kiss as his hips bucked up into nothing underneath you. When he broke the kiss, you met his warm brown eyes with your own. He smiled up at you as he brushed a piece of hair back behind your ear and he tugged down on your hips so that your soaked center was pressed up against him.

“I think,” he said as he pressed another kiss to your lips. “That it might be my turn now.”

You grinned down at him, placing both hands on his shoulders and lifting your torso so that you were positioned over the tip of his cock. You felt it pulse against you as you began to slowly rock your hips into his. You bent down slightly to place a sweet kiss to the bump of his nose and brush away a few tendrils of hair that had stuck to the sweat on his forehead.

“You know what I think?” you asked as you quickened the pace of your hips. “I think that you were such a good boy waiting your turn while Santi had his fun, that you deserve to be rewarded. Don’t you agree, Santi?”

“Mhmm,” he groaned as he bent over to press a kiss to your cheek, nipping softly at your skin. He walked over to the other side of the bed and laid back against the pillows as he began to lazily stroke himself. “I think you should show my boy Fish here a good time while I enjoy the view.”

You beamed down at Frankie who was staring up at you with wide eyes, trying to anticipate your next move. You gently lifted your hips, reaching a hand down to grip the base of his cock and slide it through your folds. You felt Frankie’s breath hitch in his chest as his eyes fluttered closed and his fingers dug into the flesh of your hips. You teased him like that for a few more moments before softly getting his attention.

“Frankie,” you cooed. “Look at me.”

Reluctantly, his eyes opened and found yours. You pressed the tip of his cock against your slick entrance and pushed back slightly, causing him to gasp and close his eyes once more.

“Frankie,” you said with a bit more bite. “I said, keep your eyes on me.”

A whine escaped his lips, but he obeyed. This time, his eyes never left yours as you slowly sank down onto him; mouth agape as every glorious inch of him stretched you further than anyone ever had before. When you were fully seated on him, you leaned down to meet his lips in a brief kiss. You closed your eyes and pressed your forehead against his, the two of you passing the same moan back and forth through open mouths as you slowly began to rock your hips. You could hear Santi panting as he took all of this in, his hand now stroking his cock at a quicker pace. Frankie’s hands were still tightly gripping your hips as he guided them back and forth, loving the way you stretched around his width.

When the feeling of Frankie filling you was no longer painful, you sat yourself back up; your hands reclaiming their spot on either of his shoulders. This new angle pushed Frankie further inside of you and the tip of his dick immediately found your g-spot. Desperate for the internal friction, you began to circle your hips in place and savored how absolutely wrecked Frankie looked beneath you. Soft expletives escaped his lips as he tipped his head back in bliss. There was a loud crack as Frankie’s hand came down on your left ass cheek. You cried out in pleasure, but Frankie couldn’t tell the difference yet between that and a sound of pain. His eyes immediately found yours as his hand soothed the growing red spot.

“I’m sorry. Was that ok?” he asked, his concern genuine.

“Fuck yes, Frankie. That was-” you couldn’t even get the sentence out before his left hand cracked against your right ass cheek, causing you to yelp. Just as he had with the other side, his hand immediately began to soothe the sting out of the mark. “God! You feel so good.”

A strangled noise came from the head of the bed and you looked up to find that Santi was once again tightly gripping the base of his cock to stop his impending release. His head was tilted back against the headboard and his bottom lip was pulled tight over his teeth. Your mouth watered at the sight of the muscles in his neck flexing with the effort to not cum while he watched you ride his best friend senseless. Your breathless panting of his name was enough to bring his attention back to where you were riding Frankie.

“I’m trying real hard to hold out for you, baby,” he chuckled. “But I’m gonna need Fish to hurry up and make you cum so I can fuck that tight little ass of yours.”

As if he had been waiting for Santi’s permission, Frankie’s hand quickly found the space where your bodies were joined and began to rub tight circles around your clit. You leaned back, bracing your hands against the tops of his thighs so that he could have a better angle on it. He began to quickly fuck himself up into you as your moans pitched higher, signaling that you were close. When you knew you were there, you suddenly pulled yourself off of his dick and his fingers followed, never losing contact with your clit as he pressed harder. Your whole body wracked with pleasure as you gushed onto Frankie’s throbbing cock, soaking him and the sheets as your thighs shook from the strain of holding you up through your release. Frankie pulled you down into a kiss, gently rolling you over so that he was on top of you and staring down into your eyes.

When he pulled away, he placed a kiss to the tip of your nose and brushed the hair back from your forehead before placing another gentle kiss there. You held on to him as the aftershocks of your second release shook through your body and you felt yourself start to giggle. You couldn’t believe you had just made a mess all over your new sheets, but you’d be damned if that wasn’t one of the most mind-blowing orgasms you’d ever had. No man had ever successfully made you do that before, though many had tried.

“Damn, baby. You sure did make a mess,” Frankie chuckled as he stared down at you, a mixture of awe and lust on his face. There was a hint of concern in his eyes still, as if he was worried he had been too rough with you. “Are you alright? Do you need us to give you a minute? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You smiled as you bit down on your lower lip, shaking your head at him. You tangled your hands in his hair and brought his lips down to yours for a brief moment before guiding him down your neck and between the swell of your breasts. Your breath caught in your chest as his soft beard tickled against the skin of your stomach and he made his way to the top of your mound.

“Is it ok if I-?” he looked up at you with yearning eyes and you felt your stomach twist in adoration. “I just want to taste you.”

“It’s ok, Frankie” you said gently, your hands still tangled in the curls on top of his head. You scooted yourself back a little so that your head was propped on Santi’s chest and you could have a better view. You untangled one hand from his hair and reached beside you to wrap it around Santi’s painfully hard cock. You began to pump it lazily as Frankie licked a stripe from your entrance to your clit, gathering your slick on his tongue and audibly groaning in pleasure at the taste of you. You turned your head towards Santi whose eyes were glued to where Frankie’s face was buried between your thighs and licked your lips at the look of concentration on his face. You released your grip on his cock and reached up to soothe the lines on his brow, smiling when he finally met your eyes.

“Kiss me, Santiago” you murmured and your eyes fluttered closed. Frankie sucked hard on your clit as Santi leaned down to meet your mouth, gently biting your lower lip and swallowing your moan as he demanded access. His touch was less frenzied now, more gentle than you thought him capable of as his hand cupped your face and held you still against him. You were overwhelmed in the moment, tears threatening to spill, as you realized the three of you were a complete circuit; Frankie making you tremble with his surprisingly aggressive tongue and hands still latched to your cunt and Santi rubbing his thumbs sweetly across your cheeks while he kissed you senseless.

A snarl from Frankie caught your attention, the sound out of character for him, and you clenched around his fingers. Your back arched off the bed, and you felt his hand crash down on your stomach to hold you in place. The pace his fingers set was almost brutal and you felt your juices sliding down your thighs; combined with his spit you were absolutely soaked. His fingers moved away from your entrance, replaced by his tongue, and you felt him probe against your ass. You spread your legs father, bending at the knees, at the sensation and moaned into Santi’s mouth. Slowly, Frankie pushed one thick finger inside you. Part of you wanted to crawl away from the invasion but the rest of you shuddered at the idea of being able to have both of them inside you at the same time.

Frankie’s face lifted from your folds and he placed a kiss against your inner thigh, nuzzling your skin there.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said even as the look in eyes told you he wanted to tear you apart. You smiled down at him and ran a hand through his sweaty curls. You tapped Santi’s chest with your other hand to get his attention and pointed at the small bedside table. He caught your drift and opened the drawer, plucking out a small bottle of lube and handed it down to Frankie who immediately spread over both of your holes. His eyes never left yours as he pressed back into your ass, groaning when your mouth dropped open in a silent scream. He stretched you slowly and you could see the effort it took to not just fuck you with his fingers. You were grateful that he took the time to prepare you for what came next.

Minutes felt as if they stretched on forever and suddenly Santi’s hands were under your arms, pulling you on top of him; your back flush against his chest. His breathing was harsh in your ear as he shifted his hips to line up with your ass. Frankie leaned over you, caging you in with his strong arms as he leaned down to push his tongue in your mouth. You could taste yourself, tangy and sweet, on his lips and you reached up to pull him closer. Santi growled, low and long behind you. You realized Frankie had reached down between your legs and gripped his friend’s cock, his hands shiny with lube to make his entrance easier, and lined him up against you. Santi nudged you with the head of his cock and your body’s natural reaction was to buck up and off of him but Frankie held you fast as Santi slid home inch by divine inch. You shouted at the new feeling of fullness.

“You’re so beautiful,” Frankie rasped and his eyes devoured you.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Santi ground out from behind you as he began to thrust in earnest, dragging a short scream from you as he bottomed out. “I can’t believe I get to fuck this tight little ass.”

He had one hand tangled in your hair, pulling your head to the side so he could bite and suckle at the skin of your neck, the other grasping at your breast as he desperately snapped his hips against you. You were making no effort to quiet your moans as you writhed against Santi, loving how full he made you feel.

Frankie’s thumb had been rubbing tight circles on your clit as he slowly pumped himself in his free hand. He tapped Santi on the hip gently, signalling for him to slow his pace so he could line himself up with your entrance. An animalistic groan escaped his chest as he sheathed himself inside of you slowly, overcome with the feeling of your tight walls surrounding him. You cried out as you clenched around him, nearly toppling over the edge at the sensation of being stretched to your limit by the both of them. Frankie was in heaven; you had felt fantastic around him before, but this was pure bliss. Santi was still thrusting in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace and Frankie could feel every glorious inch of his friend filling you up. It was almost too much for him to take as he looked down at the wrecked face of his best friend.

You looked up at him, noticing how he wasn’t looking at you but rather, how he couldn’t take his eyes off of Santi. You saw how his eyes flicked down to Santi’s mouth as he licked his own lips. You knew what he wanted, but you didn’t think he’d have the guts to do it on his own. With a whisper of his name, you pulled him down into a soft kiss. As he began to moan against your lips, you turned your head slightly making sure he knew to follow you. With a steady hand at the nape of his neck, you pushed his face towards Santi’s. They paused, staring at each other with a million questions in their eyes as they tentatively bumped noses. You clenched around them and that was all it took.

Their mouths were on each other in an instant, all clashing teeth and soft moans as they both began pumping in and out of you again. As Frankie tangled a hand in Santi’s hair, you wrapped your arms around his back, digging your nails into his shoulders and sucking bruises along the length of his neck. Their moans getting more desperate by the second, they began to set a bruising pace and each of them had managed to hit spots inside of you that sent white-hot bolts of electricity through your body.

You knew you would have bruises on your hips where Santi was gripping you. His hips snapped against your ass, the feeling of his cock dragging against Frankie’s made you see stars. You felt stretched to your limit, completely stuffed, and nothing had ever compared to this feeling of absolute fullness. Frankie had thrown your legs over his shoulders and quickened his pace as Santi’s thrusts began to go erratic. You knew he was about to fall over the edge and you clenched purposefully around them.

“Fuck!” Santi shouted as one hand came up to wrap around your throat and hold you in place.

“Cum for me, Santiago,” you murmured as you turned your face towards him for a kiss. He captured your lips with his as he growled and stiffened, becoming impossibly hard inside of your ass. On a whim Frankie reached down between you and cupped his hand around Santi’s balls, giving a gentle squeeze and coaxing his orgasm from him. Heat bloomed through your core and Santi came, shouting your name and biting down hard on your neck; filling you with his cum. He stilled inside of you; his breath coming in hot puffs against your skin as he struggled to come down. His tongue laved over the mark he’d left on your skin before gently kissing it with a smile. His eyes traveled over your body, flushed and beginning to show the bruises of their hands all over you, and up to Frankie’s face as he reached down and began to rub lazy circles over your clit. He pulled your ear lobe between his teeth and bit down gently.

“Call him Francisco,” he whispered, for you only, as he pinched your clit and made you cry out, your orgasm creeping closer and threatening to wash over you

Frankie’s face screwed up in concentration as he watched Santi rub against you, the feeling of you clenching on his cock was almost too much. He reached one hand down to rest gently against your throat, squeezing slightly as he tried to gauge your reaction. When he saw a flash of excitement in your eyes, he continued thrusting into you as he felt you growing tighter around him. His free hand laced his fingers with one of yours as he brought your knuckles to his lips.

“Let go, baby,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”

A few more brushes of his cock against your g-spot was all it took and, as he relaxed his hand around your neck, you crashed over the edge with a gasp. All of the blood rushed back to your head and your muscles tensed as you clenched down onto the both of them. Frankie groaned as your walls fluttered around him; the clench of your ass making Santi cry out from the overstimulation. You held onto Frankie’s shoulders for dear life as the aftershocks coursed through you and he gently fucked you through them. When you had finally caught your breath you pushed him back slightly so that you could look into his eyes.

“You’ve been such a patient boy… I think it’s time that we let you cum. How does that sound?” you asked as you lightly dragged your nails along his back. Frankie choked back a broken sob as he thrust into you; bottoming out and holding himself inside of you for a second. Your hands found his ass and you began to slowly circle your hips as you dug your nails into the soft flesh. You guided Frankie in and out of you gently as he began to stiffen, something you took as a sign that he was close. Heeding Santi’s advice, you began to hum beneath him.

“That’s right, baby,” you panted against his open mouth. “Cum for me, Francisco.”

The sound of his full name on your lips was enough to push him over the edge. With a feral growl, Frankie began to snap his hips into yours ferociously as he chased his own release. Your nails were digging into his ass now, surely leaving red, half-moon shaped indentations behind as you moved your arms up his back to brace against his shoulders. You stifled a cry as you bit down onto his shoulder, dragging your nails across his back as you clung to him in desperation. You clenched yourself around him as he stilled inside of you, crying out your name as he painted your walls with his release. You tangled your fingers in his hair, swallowing his cries with a kiss as his breathing returned to normal. Frankie eventually pulled away to lay his head on your chest as you played with his hair.

The three of you laid like that for a few minutes, none of you willing to break contact with each other while both men began to soften inside of you. Frankie’s right thumb was drawing circles on the sensitive skin of your side as Santi’s left hand absentmindedly stroked the hair at your temple. Your hand that wasn’t currently lost in Frankie’s dark curls was tucked back over your head gently scratching at Santi’s beard. You couldn’t see it, but Frankie’s fingers were laced with Santi’s by your right side, their calloused thumbs stroking over each other’s knuckles in a tender gesture. You let out a contented sigh as you stared up at the ceiling; shaking your head in disbelief as the events of the night began to replay themselves in the darkness. You weren’t sure you’d believe it had really happened once the bruises the boys had left behind began to fade. There was no guarantee you would ever see them again. The idea made your heart clench and you shoved it violently from your mind, instead focusing on their breathing and the slowing of your heart rate.

You eventually extracted yourselves from each other’s embrace to begin the cleanup process. After you returned from the bathroom the boys made you stay in the bed as they shuffled around your apartment, returning moments later with warm washcloths. Frankie cleaned you up first, then turned his attention to himself. Santi brought you his t-shirt to sleep, gently tugging it over your head and smiling when it settled over your frame. Frankie had pulled on his boxers and crawled back into bed, pulling back the covers and inviting you to lie down with him. The three of you settled back into your bed, reveling in the comfort of each other’s arms before you drifted off into sleep.

You awoke long before the sun, warm and boneless. You were pressed against Santi, your head resting on his chest and your arm wrapped around him. His face was relaxed in sleep, easing away those hard lines that added an edge to his handsome features. Frankie was pressed flush against your back, his breath warm on your neck and his arm draped over your middle. You looked down to find his fingers still intertwined with Santi’s and the sight was so sweet it made you ache.

“Go ‘sleep,” you heard Frankie slur from behind you and you chuckled before wiggling against him and settling back into a doze.

When you awoke again about an hour later, you stretched and found yourself with too much room in the bed. The sheets were still warm from their bodies but Frankie and Santi were nowhere to be found. You moaned and made to sit up when a large hand pressed against your shoulder and pushed you back into the nest of pillows.

“You go back to sleep, baby. We have to go to work,” Frankie whispered as he leaned in and pressed his warm mouth to yours. You whimpered as he lightly brushed his tongue against your lips. It seemed to physically pain him to pull away from you but then Santi was there, filling the empty space. His eyes seemed to bore into you, looking into your soul, and you were trapped there. He put his hand behind your head and pulled you in for a kiss, pushing his tongue into your mouth and dominating you before your sleep addled brain could even catch up. You were breathless when he pulled away.

“Be good,” was all he said before got up and followed Frankie from the room, closing the door with a soft click. You fell back against the pillows with a sigh, your muscles sore and weak and your heart fluttering, when you heard something crinkle under your hand.

You rolled and reached for the pillow next to you and found a folded slip of paper.

Now that I know what it’s like to hold you, I don’t wanna let you go. We’ll be gone for three days, but can be reached at this number if there’s an emergency. See you soon, baby. - Francisco

You clutched the paper to your chest and pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, praying that last night was not just a one off. You pulled the collar of Santi’s t-shirt to your nose, inhaling his scent and committing it to memory. You didn’t know how you would manage it but you refused to let either of them go.

Seven days later:

The wind whipped around them and it was a marvel that Will was able to sleep through it. Benny had run off to scope out the situation at the beach. Santi’s eyes were glued to the shape of Tom’s body, wrapped in cloth and laying a few feet away from the group. He began clenching and unclenching his fists as he stared sightlessly. Frankie sat next to him, their shoulders pressed together, as much for comfort as for escape from the elements.

“I…” Santi started before his words died in his throat. Frankie leaned away just far enough to wrap an arm around his shoulders and pull him close.

“I know,” he said with a grimace, his eyes roving over Santi’s haunted face before landing on Tom’s still form. He reached up and cupped Santi’s face in his hand, tucking him into the space between his neck and shoulder and stoically ignoring the shaking of his friend’s shoulders. He began to run his fingers through his hair, hoping to bring him any measure of comfort.

“Do you think…” Santi started to ask before stopping himself and looking towards Will, asleep against the rocks.

“Do I think what, Pope?” Frankie asked softly.

“Will we ever see her again?” he asked, voice catching on the last word. He wrapped his arms around Frankie’s waist, pulling him closer and settling his face into his friend’s strong chest.

The uncertainty and pain in his voice made Frankie pause before he answered. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Santi’s hair.

“I’m gonna do everything in my power to make sure we get out of here alive,” he said with a firm tone, his conviction wrapping around Santi and settling in his chest.

“Yeah, I know you will, Fish.” Santi responded with a small nod and a sniff. Bringing his lips back to Santi’s hairline, Frankie continued.

“As soon as we do, we’ll find her.”

#frankie morales #santiago garcia #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #frankie morales x reader #santiago garcia x reader #santi x reader x frankie #ot3 #repost #let me follow #tango in the night #the fic that really put us on the map tbh #that's my best friend #collab #our writing #my writing

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