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legendary-pink-dot · 1 month
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HOW THE FUCKING FUCK DID I MISS THIS?!?!?!?!
Paging @for-a-longlongtime with the utmost urgency and prejudice.
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Threesome - Santiago Garcia + Frankie Morales
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Against a wall || Suspension || Threesome
Santiago Garcia x wife!reader x Frankie Morales
Words: 1k
Warnings: smut. anal. bondage. blindfolds. dirty talk. PiV. off screen consent.
Kinktober Masterlist
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Keep reading
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legendary-pink-dot · 1 month
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Jesus. 🥵
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Taurus
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Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI
Pairing: Joel Miller x f reader
Word count: 532
Summary: you and Joel by the pool.
Warnings: Smut. Smoking. Shoulders. Hands. PWP. No y/n, no physical description of reader, but she has trimmed pubic hair.
A word from the author: just a quick thot about Joel/Javi smoking and wearing a speedo and making you work for it.
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Joel is sitting in the sun with his golden tan legs in the cool water of the pool. He’s taken his shirt off and lit a cigarette. One of the ones he swears he’s quitting. He props himself up on one palm, broad chest toasted by thesun. You took your time admiring him as you walked toward him, letting your hips sway.
He looks up as you cast a shadow over him, squinting into the sunlight around you and exhaling a cloud of smoke around the filtered tip.
You hated that he smoked, but you couldn’t help but feel a thrum low in your belly when you watched him. The way he held the cigarette between his thick fingers, the smoldering look he had as he exhaled. He knew you didn’t like it, but he knew your pussy would be dripping into your swimsuit from the way you watched him.
He doesn’t speak, just squeezes your calf before slowly rubbing up the back of your thigh, over the curve of your ass until he got to the string that held your bikini bottom on. He toyed with the little bow, took another indulgent drag from his cig, and glanced at you, daring you to stop him before tugging the end of the string, unraveling the pretty knot.
Your suit fell, letting him see how you trimmed the soft curls he loved to bury his nose in into a neat little stripe. He nodded shallowly, smirking, still balancing that cigarette between his plush lips.
His hand dragged over your lower belly, dipping low enough for his thumb to brush over your mound, but not low enough to reach your already wet slit. You put your hand over his, pressing it firmer, urging him to indulge you, but he pulled it away. He wasn’t going to give into you today.
Dripping and determined, you stepped closer. You crowded nearer until you straddled his strong, bare shoulder and began to rub your puffy pussy against the firm muscle. The curve between his shoulder and neck was the perfect fit for your pulsing clit, the
When you ran your hand through his damp curls, pushing them back from his forehead, he turned his head to nuzzle your belly, kissing it, licking it. One of his big paddle hands reached up to you tit, squeezing and lifting it, impatiently jerking the triangle of fabric that covered it aside so he could pinch your nipple, teasing it to a point.
With the arm trapped between your legs, he holds your hip, guiding your shameless rutting. Your eyes are unfocused as you near your climax, and you fix your eyes on his body.
His delicious thighs, his soft belly, the trail of dark hair leading under his speedo, directly to where his thick cock strains hard and wanting under the tight fabric.
Your bikini bottom has slipped down your thigh and you’re soaking his shoulder with your arousal, your senses falter when you come, crying his name, watching a puff of smoke dissipate around him.
When you still, he looks at you, crushes the glowing stub into the wet concrete at his side, and taps your hip. “C’mere.”
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legendary-pink-dot · 1 month
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@for-a-longlongtime and @lotusbxtch I am equally excited for both of your WIPs! 🙌🏼 They're gonna be deeeelicious.
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Last line tag game
Thank you for tagging me @perotovar @magpiepills @legendary-pink-dot @nerdieforpedro! 💜
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It's three weeks later and I'm still on the same Frankie x Santiago one shot that I shared a WIP snippet of last month. Except for how everything about the first part has now been fully rewritten and changed about ten times 🤦‍♂️The whole thing also changed from Frankie's POV to Santi's POV, because these boys are determined to break my brain or something.
It feels like an out-of-body experience when the taunting words slip from his lips, as he knows perfectly well how to wield them for maximum damage. “Yeah, but then who is gonna suck your pretty little cock, Fish? That’s why you really came here, right?” Frankie’s punch is so goddamn fast.
NPT to @qveerthe0ry @lotusbxtch @alltheglitterandtheroar @prolix-yuy @whatsnewalycat @virtie333 @ghostofaboy @writefightandflightclub @lady-bess @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @rhoorl @maggiemayhemnj @avastrasposts @trulybetty @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @ohforficsake @senorabond @romanarose @idolatrybarbie @marisferasiop @penvisions @musings-of-a-rose @covetyou @chronically-ghosted @morallyinept
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legendary-pink-dot · 1 month
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I love these two idiots. 💜
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OSCAR ISAAC and PEDRO PASCAL TRIPLE FRONTIER (2019)
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legendary-pink-dot · 1 month
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Last Line Tag Game
Thank you my sweet @magpiepills for the tag! 😘
Years of being each other's shadow in the field dissolves any necessity for words. Frankie can't count how many times they'd had to anticipate each other's thoughts, actions, and motivations deep in a pressure situation. And nine times out of ten, they were right.
Yes, you guessed it, another Frankie / Santi snippet because I continue to be feral for those two idiots.
But - surprise surprise - no sandwich this time!
Tagging @arcanefox207 and @for-a-longlongtime 💜
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legendary-pink-dot · 1 month
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legendary-pink-dot · 1 month
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Oh, Santi. Sorry not sorry about your knees.
Tell us more about your dick sucking, please?
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Maybe Santiago’s knees wouldn’t hurt so much if he didn’t suck so much dick
YOU ARE 100% RIGHT. THIS IS 100% FACTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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legendary-pink-dot · 1 month
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His voice could melt glaciers.
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Come in, Atled Air, come in.
A Pilot!Frankie x fem!reader one shot
This is all fluff, just a little brain worm I had a few months ago and today it decided it wanted to be written.
Happy Morales Monday!
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You still vividly remember the first time you “met” him, how a routine Thursday shift in the control tower lodged itself in your brain as a bright memory of when you first heard his voice. 
Thursday
“Saltaire Airfield tower to Atled Air flight 117, do you copy?” 
You release the switch on the microphone and scan the monitor in front of you. The small commercial flight coming in to land is still too far away to see in the sky, but the radar at the top of the air traffic control tower at the small Saltaire Airfield sees it clearly. You track their progress as you wait for the pilot to respond. 
“Atled Air flight 117 here, I can hear you loud and clear, Saltaire tower.” 
His voice comes through with a crackle in your headphones and even as you flick the switch to transmit at your end, you’re losing yourself in the way he sounds. The low, smooth gravel of his voice lingers in your ears and slips down your spine, and you know you want to hear him speak again. 
“Atled Air 117, we have some sharp side wind gusts coming in off the ocean on runway one so I’m moving you to runway two. I repeat; you are clear for landing on runway two.” 
“Copy that, Saltaire tower. Atled Air 117 adjusting course and coming in to land on runway two.” 
His voice wraps itself around your brain and you want to push your headphones tighter against your ears to have that warm voice even closer. When he clicks off, you take a second to respond, your finger fumbling on the switch. 
“Roger, Atled Air 117. Welcome to the island,” you say, cringing at yourself, you never welcome flights to the island, so unprofessional. This may be a tiny regional airport but correct air traffic protocol is as important here as at any of the large mainland airports. But from Atled Air comes the crackled response. 
“Thank you, tower, I look forward to exploring.” The smile in the pilot’s voice is clear, a small chuckle at the end just as he flicks off his microphone. You grin at the runway below the tower, your sharp eyes spotting the small aircraft as it circles and approaches runway two. 
There’s no need for you to guide the flight in to land, it’s the only flight landing, the next one isn’t due for another half an hour. Instead you just watch the pilot smoothly set his aircraft down, not even a wobble on the landing gear. 
“Atled Air 117, please proceed to gate one,” you say into the microphone as the small passenger aircraft begins to taxi down the runway. 
“Copy that, tower,” comes the reply, sending another little delightful shiver down your spine. You only hope you’re on duty when he flies out. 
Saturday
Frankie adjusts the aviators on his nose and consults the instruments in front of him before he looks up and out through the windshield. The green smudge of the island is visible below him, a blip in the blindingly blue ocean. It’s only his second flight out here, a new destination for Atled Air, but he’s been looking forward to it since his first trip on Thursday. The voice of the female air traffic controller had lingered in his ears long after he’d brought the aircraft to a stand still by the gate. And unfortunately she hadn’t been on duty when he flew out a couple of hours later. Now he was crossing his proverbial fingers that her sweet voice would hail him as the flight reached the island’s air space. 
He hesitates for a few seconds before he flicks the microphone to transmit. 
“Saltaire Airfield tower, this is Atled Air 243 approaching your airspace. I’m seeing some turbulence on the radar, but we should be ready to land shortly.” 
He flicks off and grimaces, that message wasn’t strictly necessary, he just couldn’t wait any longer to find out if it was the same woman in the tower. But when his headphones crackle to life and her soft voice flows into his ears, he can’t stop the grin that spreads across his face. 
“Atled Air 243, Saltaire tower here. You’re a little bit early, I need you to hold your altitude and circle at the outer marker. We have an aircraft with broken landing gear on the tarmac that needs to be towed out of the way.” 
“Copy that, Saltaire tower. Atled Air 243 holding at current altitude and circling at the outer marker,” he replies, chastising himself for not keeping the smile out of his voice. 
The tone of her voice is slightly veiled and has a lilt, a hint of an accent he can’t place, and it makes his skin tingle to hear the way she rolls the r’s around her tongue. Before he can stop his mind, he wonders what it would sound like to have her say his name, how Frankie would sound whispered into his ear, a warm breath against his neck. 
He adjusts his aviators again as he shifts in his seat, thumb hovering over the microphone switch. He shouldn’t really… 
“What happened to the landing gear? All ok on the ground there, Saltaire?” 
“The pilot missed the edge of the tarmac as he was taxing out and hit a rock,” her voice comes back through his headphones, and sends a pleasant shiver down his spine, “No injuries, just a bruised ego.” The smile is clear in her voice and Frankie smiles at his end. 
“Well, at least I know it wasn’t one of our pilots,” he chuckles, “I’m the only Atled flight out here today.” 
“I know,” she replies a bit too quickly and then stutters, “I-I mean, I keep track of all our flights. Of course.” 
“Of course,” Frankie replies, “You’re a very good air traffic control tower, always on top of things.” He winces at his own line, why the fuck did he say that? Who compliments an air traffic control tower? 
“You’ve only flown in here once before,” comes her reply with a small giggle, “but thanks, we do our best even though we’re a small airfield.” 
He checks his instruments, looking for a reason to hail the tower again, her bright laughter still ringing in his ears. The island is spread out underneath him as he corrects his course, holding at the outer marker, and his headphones come to life again. 
“Atled Air 243, you’re clear to land on runway one, over.” 
“Copy that, tower. Atled Air 243 approaching runway one.” 
“Welcome to the island,” she smiles through the airwaves and Frankie feels the tips of his ears go warm as he begins the pre-landing checklist. 
“Thanks, Saltaire, looking forward to getting on the ground,” he smiles back. 
Tuesday
You scan the list of incoming flights as you clock on for the shift and feel your stomach do a little summersault when the Atled Air flight is at the end of the list. Last flight of the day. And so far both flights have been piloted by the same pilot with the low, warm voice. You cross her fingers and send up a quick prayer that it’ll be him again. 
The shift flies past, pun intended, as the afternoon slides into evening, and before you know it, Atlead Air 584 is approaching, the final flight. The weather has deteriorated during the day and heavy fog has settled over the island, not unusual, but it does mean flights need extra attention when coming in to land. Your hands shake a little with excitement as you flip the microphone switch and hail the incoming flight. 
“Atled Air 584, Saltaire Airfield tower here. I can see you on the radar but the fog is thick on the ground, I’ll guide you in as you approach the outer marker.” 
“Copy that, Saltaire tower,” comes his voice through your headphones and you do a little happy shuffle before quickling glancing behind you to make sure noone is watching. The smile in his voice makes butterflies tumble in the pit of your belly, and you quickly take a deep breath, focusing again. 
“Atled Air 584, runway one is waiting for you, approach the outer marker.” 
“Copy that,” he says, and you hear him inhale and curse in a low tone under his breath, “Damn, it’s thick down there, Saltaire. I’ve got zero visibility of the runway.” 
“Just take it nice and slow, Atled, I’ve got you on radar, guiding you in.” 
Frankie leaves his microphone open and grips the yoke with both hands, glancing over his instruments, hearing the beep of the outer marker as the aircraft slowly descends towards the fog-covered island. 
“Looking good, Atlead,” your voice comes through into his ears, soft and calm, almost intimate in the way your tone guides him, “Keep on that course, middle marker coming up.” 
“Copy that, Saltaire,” he replies, releasing a slow breath through his nose, you can hear it woosh gently through the microphone at his end and then he inhales again.
“Inner marker,” you say, “looking good, Atled.” 
With a low thud, the landing gear hits the tarmac and the aircraft jolts. Frankie gently reduces the speed and sighs into the still open microphone. As far as landings go, he’s had much, much worse, but next to zero visibility always adds an extra layer of tension to any landing. 
“Thanks, tower, great guiding,” he huffs, “Atled Air safely on the ground.” 
“It was great flying, captain,” your voice smiles at him through the headphones, “You’re clear to taxi to gate number one.” 
Your microphone clicks off and he rubs the back of his neck with his free hand, the other one on the yoke. He drops his hand to his thigh, tapping the outside with his fingers a few times before his thumb is back, hovering over the microphone switch. 
“Atled Air to Saltaire tower, you copy?” 
“Saltaire tower here, is there a problem, captain?” 
“Uh, no…This is very unprofessional but…when do you finish your shift in the tower? Can I maybe buy you a drink?” 
“I'm off in thirty minutes. And a drink sounds nice.” You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from giggling, your cheeks aching from the smile stretching your face. 
“Is that bar across the road from the airport any good? Can we meet there?” he asks, smiling like a fool at his end, eagerly rubbing his hand over his thigh as he glances up at the tower. 
“Sure, see you there, captain”. 
Forty minutes later
You glance towards the door again as you hear it swing open, and this time it’s him, the Atled Air uniform giving him away straight away. He scans the bar as you scan him, tall, dark haired and broad, wide shoulders stretching the seams of the uniform shirt tight. As he spots you, the only woman at the bar, he smiles, a dimple appearing on his cheek as he walks towards you. His captain's hat is under his arm, and he runs his free hand through his hair, the chocolate brown curls creating an unruly halo under the dim bar lights. 
“Hi,” he says, his low, warm voice wrapping itself around you as he leans forward and brushes his lips over your cheek, “I’m Frankie.” 
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legendary-pink-dot · 1 month
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.......and there's even a gorgeous moody moodboard to go with this literary deliciousness!
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Just gonna put this down right here.
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There’s your moodboard for The Margay, Chapter 8.
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legendary-pink-dot · 1 month
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Look at me, finally catching up on tumblr and reading fic again! 🙌🏼
Actually I haven't read this chapter yet because I'm still catching up on this series, but I'm gonna go ahead and rec it unseen because I just know it's going to be fantastic.
Seriously, everyone needs to read this series. Top notch writing and Frankie is just so perfectly Frankie in the way he talks, thinks, and acts.
Did I also mention the sex in this series is hot? 🥵
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The Margay: Chapter 8
Benadryl
prev / series masterlist / main masterlist
Summary: Santiago recruits Frankie to contract for a covert agency that pairs them with danger in more ways than one. A series of one-shot snippets taking place during and around missions.
Pairing: Frankie Morales x Sniper!OFC
Word Count: ~ 13.2K words (I made y'all wait, but you get all of this and two spicy scenes)
Rating: Explicit 18+ / fingering, car sex, dirty talk, unprotected piv, creampie, oral (f receiving), comeshot, come eating / language / mentions of past drug use / hostage extraction / canon-consistent violence / Minors DNI
A/N: I know nothing about fixing cars. I know nothing about helicopters. I know that these two love each other. Special guest appearance this chapter by Ben Miller. Benny fans, your boy is a menace and he's wonderful.
Thank you, thank you, thank you all for your lovely comments, for recommending this story, and for screaming with me about these two.
chapter moodboard if you're interested
Divider by @cafekitsune!
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MONDAY
AN UNDISCLOSED LOCATION IN HONDURAS.
“MOOSE,” Santiago barks at where Audrey’s bent double over the hood of a Land Rover as he slams their truck door. 
She doesn’t bother to drop what she’s doing, perimeter alarms two miles down the hill had already alerted her to their arrival.
One of them thwaks her on the ass and she knows it's Santi.
Frankie doesn’t do it like that.
“Whatcha got, what’s going on here?” He peers down at wires and tubes. 
“Auxiliary belt’s fucked, where’s my…”
“Catfish get over here, she’s talkin’ your shit, I’ve got no idea.” Pope calls over his shoulder, not realizing that “Frankie” and not the name of some obscure tool is actually the intended end of her sentence. “This thing armored?” He kicks a tire.
“Yep.”
A massive palm spreads over her back, the shadow of his body a cooling balm.
She looks up now.
“Hi,” Frankie smiles.
“Hi,” she grins over her shoulder, craning her neck back for a kiss, and Frankie briefly slips her his tongue because he’s never been able to resist a girl who’s good with her hands. 
“Serpentine belt?” He asks when she breaks away.
‘Yeah, it’s cracked to shit. Gonna swap the tensioner too. Let me get the breaker bar?”
“Like a different fucking language,” Pope quips as he opens the driver’s side door and slips inside.
And Frankie’s torn between letting her continue and wanting desperately to take over the job, lest a speck of grease mar her lovely skin. She’s clearly capable of doing this herself, but chivalry wins out and he grabs the long metal rod from the toolbox on the ground.
“Top or bottom?” Meaning which tensioner.
“Bottom, it’s got too much play in it,” she answers, pressing on the bearing to show him.
“Oh shit yeah, that’s loose.”
“God, get a room,” Santi quips from where he’s reclining in the driver’s seat, brim of his cap pulled low over his eyes against the sun.
“Why don’t you do something useful like unload the truck?” Frankie calls as he slots the breaker bar into place. “Hold on let me get a picture of how it’s sitting,” and he reaches in his back pocket as she slides her left arm in front of his face. She’s drawn the belt’s path on the inside of her forearm in pen to help with re-threading the new strip of rubber.
Frankie’s cock twitches.
She knows what she’s doing. 
She always does.
She would have done this without him.
And she lets him in anyway.
He applies pressure to the bar, forcing the tensioner away from the belt and Audrey reaches over him to slip the old rubber strap from the pulleys, her chest grazing his arm as she does.
God if Santiago wasn’t fucking here right now flits across his mind. 
If this isn’t all of his teenage fantasies come to life…
She has the belt off in seconds and disappears as he hits the inside of the breaker bar with his palm to unlatch it. Audrey returns with a wrench, new belt slung diagonally across her torso.
“Crack that nut off for me, baby?” She doesn’t need to tell him, but she enjoys needling Pope, who scoffs from his leather cradle.
Fish’s broad shoulders briefly strain under the cotton of his t-shirt as he gets it loose, winding it off the bolt with deft fingers. He slots the nut into his back pocket out of habit and the mechanism comes away in his hands. 
“Don’t need that, it came with one,” and Audrey dives in with the new tensioner, lining the lugs of the new part up before screwing the new nut part-way on. She slips the new belt off of where she’s wearing it and Frankie helps her line it up, pausing occasionally to check her arm for the positioning, landing a kiss on her shoulder here, dragging his nose up her tricep there. 
Once they have the belt back in place, Frankie tightens the nut on the new tensioner and they both step back.
“Oi,” Frankie pounds on the headlight to get Santiago’s attention. 
“Start her up?” Audrey rests one hand on her hip and shields her eyes with the other.
Santi gropes around for the keys before starting the truck and Audrey and Frankie let it run for a second before stepping forward to inspect their work. 
“Yeah, looks good.” 
“Sounds better than it did,” Audrey adds. 
Fish raises his voice to be heard over the engine, “shut her off, Pope.”
Frankie fiddles around, checking the tightness on all of the bolts within his reach before they work together to replace the fanbelt shroud and reconnect the air filter pipes.
“Where in the hell did you learn to do that?” Fish rubs the heels of his palms together when it’s through, squinting against the sun.
Audrey slams the hood closed. “Friend with a Messerschmitt has a thing for old cars too.” 
Frankie’s gotta meet this guy.
But right now he has a more–pressing–problem and he excuses himself with a “gotta hit the head.” He figures cool water on the back of his neck will unwind him enough that he can face them again.
_____
Hours later the three of them are hunched over the dining table, staring daggers at a site plan that’s dotted with an array of plastic army figurines.
There’s a poker chip in the center. A four-year-old hostage that needs extracting. The daughter of a diplomat being held for political leverage.
None of them are happy about it.
But they’re also among the handful of people in the world who can get her out alive. 
Each of them feels that obligation acutely.
“We need another man,” Audrey crosses her arms over her chest.
“The compound is just too big. Too many fucking people,” Santi scratches at his beard. “If we need Fish in the bird ready to run, that’s already too sparse. And if we need you up here,” he points to tight concentric circles on the plan that signify high ground, “keeping the path to the bird clear, I can get in quietly, no problem, but I can’t get out with a hostage in tow.”
“What if I go with you?” Frankie pipes up, “it takes less than 90 seconds to get this in the air,” he points at a toy helicopter with an index finger.
“90 seconds could be too long. And god forbid something happens to you in there and you can’t fly that bird,” she taps inside the building. “Then we have two sets of dead weight and a hornet’s nest on high alert. I wouldn’t be able to get there in time to fly everyone  out.”
Pope twirls a pen between his fingers and Frankie places and replaces the helicopter at different points around the map before returning it to its original position at the private airstrip.
“That’s the only spot that works. Anywhere else draws attention and/or goes against the intel on their route,” he concludes, rubbing at his eyes with his thumb and middle fingers. 
“How do we know that’s not drawing attention anyway?” Santi bites the inside of his cheek as he gestures at the helicopter.
“There’s been a nature documentary crew in and out of that airstrip for weeks. The bird Davis’ guys lined up is  the same make and model with all the same markings,” Frankie answers. “It’s just bulletproof.”
Santi turns to Audrey, “can he get someone else out here?” Meaning their boss.
“Getting someone out here isn’t the problem, getting someone out here that I trust is. Everyone I knew in there is long gone.”
“You still got any friends?” Santi’s brow knits.
“Not ones who do this kind of shit anymore.”
“Pope,” Frankie pipes up after a beat. “Ben?”
“Yeah,” Santiago lights up, “yeah, you think he’d be up for it?”
Frankie shrugs, “worth a shot. Benny’s down for anything.”
“Ben is…Miller?” Her brain reaches back and spits out what she can remember of the Lorea briefing and bits of the stories they’ve told about a “Benny.”
“Yeah.” They both look at her expectantly. 
They need the final party’s buy-in.
“Tell me more.”
“He’s solid. Ready to do whatever it takes to get a job done,” Santi starts.
“A bit brash at times, maybe,” Frankie tempers Pope’s enthusiasm. “A little wild when he drinks, a little hot under the collar,” he scratches at this beard. “But not in the way that disobeys orders.”
“He runs clean during a mission, Aud. Doesn’t like an operation that doesn’t go to plan. Doesn’t leave messes. Puts his own life on the line when it matters.” Santi says firmly. “Might be a bit of an adjustment period though.” 
“Might be.” Francisco apparently agrees.
“In what way.” She stares them both down.
“He, uh…might have a little bit of a hard time taking your orders at first.” Santi runs a hand through his hair.
“He’ll push you a bit,” Frankie again scratches at his chin. “Not because he wants to run it.”
“Just because he doesn’t know you,” Santi finishes, arms crossed, hip resting against the edge of the table. “But he’ll fall in line.”
“Anything else I should know?”
“He uh,” Santi takes his eyes over her form, “might come on a bit strong,” Santi says.
“He’s gonna want to fuck you, Aud.” Frankie translates.
“That I can handle. All of this I can handle. Do you trust him?” Her green gaze slides between the two men.
“I do.” Pope answers with conviction. 
Frankie responds, “with my life.”
She stares hard at Frankie before drumming her fingers on the table. “Okay. I’d like not to lose time and waste the intel on this. Davis can have a screen run on him tonight if he’s game. Can he get on a plane tomorrow?”
“I’ll ask,” Frankie sits up and reaches for his phone. 
It dings in response thirty seconds later. 
“He’s in.”
And she immediately slips her cell phone out of her back pocket, stepping into the other room to make arrangements with Davis. 
_____
“Nothing more to do tonight. We’re gonna take this thing out on a test run,” Frankie tips the brim of his cap up far enough to swipe curls off of his forehead as he makes his way through the kitchen.
“It’s 9pm, it’s dark,” and no sooner is it out of Santiago’s mouth than he catches Frankie’s drift.
“Mind your business, Pope.”
“Roger,” Santi turns back to his beer and the baseball game he’s watching on his phone. “If you aren’t back by midnight I’m calling in a BOLO for two idiots fucking in the back seat of a Land Rover.”
“I was actually in the mood to do it on the hood,” Audrey quips as she appears at the foot of the stairs.
“Fine, just don’t leave come stains that I have to look at when I’m driving it tomorrow.”
“No promises,” Audrey winks and Pope scoffs.
Frankie slaps him on the shoulder on his way out the door.
“Lucky fuckin’ bastard,” Pope murmurs under his breath and takes a swig of beer.
_____
Half an hour later, Frankie has her naked in the sea, legs wrapped around his waist, lips at her throat before the brim of his cap knocks her in the chin.
“Francisco, what is the deal with this thing, you shower with it on?” She reaches to spin it around backwards.
“Just my favorite hat,” he returns to sucking on her collarbone, tongue accepting the bitter burn of salt water so long as it’s laced with the taste of her skin.
“What is Standard Heating Oil?”
“No clue. Found it in the dollar bin at Goodwill one day.”
“Fascinating.” He has no tie to this hat save for the fact that it’s his and it goes everywhere with him.
“Used to get made fun of as a kid. For having curly hair,” he tucks his chin into the juncture of her shoulder.
The brush of his beard tickles her skin as he continues.
“Just always preferred to cover it up, I guess.”
Audrey takes the hat off and slips it backwards onto her own head. 
Her fingers wind in his curls.
And she holds him without prying.
“Used to get made fun of a lot as a kid. My hair. My nose. Wasn’t really into sports either.”
“You’ve just named some of the things I like most about you,” Audrey kisses at his jaw. “What were you into, Frankie?” She whispers.
“Liked to read, I suppose,” he muses.
And she hums, nuzzling her face into Frankie’s shoulder. “I like that about you too.”
He’s warm and open like this as they listen to the soft lap of waves against the shore. She holds him as if it could seep into her bones.
After a moment Frankie whispers, “I, um. I used to—not—be good at handling all of this. My past and my present.”
And she pulls back a fraction to gaze softly into dark eyes.
“I used to use.”
And her hand in his hair strokes gently over the nape of his neck as un-shed tears set brown eyes swimming.
“Coke. I just kind of fell off the wagon,” he nods like he needs her to agree that this doesn’t change him. 
Audrey holds his face in her palms, thumbs gently skimming over the apples of his cheeks.
“Got hit with a license suspension a few years ago. Then Pope came through with the Lorea job and that—that didn’t—” he trails off.
“Ended up getting the license back but—”
Frankie stares over her right shoulder out into the horizon.
“Everything else fell ap—”
And Audrey presses her lips to his because she doesn’t know what more to do than allow her body to speak where the prospect of words seems trite in comparison. She presses her lips to his cheek and wraps her arms tight to his neck until he returns her hold, tighter than before.
“I haven’t, though,” he murmurs against her skin, nodding his head again.
“In two years. I haven’t used.”
And she knows what lives in the spaces between those words.
I haven’t used since you.
And it terrifies her.
I can’t save you.
I can’t fix you.
I can’t be that for you, Frankie.
And yet.
She is. 
He’s quiet for a long while in her arms. Body slowly giving up its tension to the water before he murmurs, “you float, baby.”
And her brow furrows in the moonlight.
“I sink. In the ocean,” he muses as he pulls back to look at her. “You’re like a life vest.”
And Audrey chances a joke, looking down at her full chest and muttering, “well…”
Frankie’s tongue darts out to lick at his bottom lip. “Nuh uh this too,” his hands slip down to grip hard at her ass.
And whatever that was before has passed.
Audrey welcomes it with a laugh and a kiss at his jaw. 
“I missed you,” he whispers and again fits his chin into the curve of her shoulder.
“Oh, Francisco,” she sighs and presses her nose to his wet hair, inhaling the salted smell of him.
“I know it’s only been three weeks,” he starts to apologize. 
For his attachment.
“I missed you too,” she preempts and arches into him, gripping his neck tighter.
“Can I tell you something?” Frankie pulls back, whispering against her chin.
“Of course,” is her answer, but she stiffens ever so slightly.
Because he’s said it far too intimately.
And mercifully more than three words tumble out of his mouth.
“I saw you fixing that truck today,” he noses at her jaw to whisper against her lips. “I could have fucked you right there on the hood.”
“Oh yeah?” Audrey whispers with the beginnings of a smirk playing on her lips.
“I was so fucking hard.” 
“Is that why you ran away?” She laughs. “You know Pope was half asleep.”
“Yeah, but you’re loud, baby,” he lets out a sly murmur. “Would have been a hell of a wakeup call.”
“Ah, and you’re quiet as a church mouse.”
Frankiee grins with guilty teeth in his bottom lip. 
“Could have taken me with you,” she presses her lips to his, opening just a fraction to allow his tongue into her mouth, “to wherever you absconded to.”
“The lady deserves better.”
“Mm, like the hood of a car?”
“Done.”
She lets him go and starts racing towards the shore.
Frankie follows after her, catching her around the waist and hoisting her onto the hood of the Rover, massive hand hooked around the nape of her neck with a grin splitting his face.
Audrey reaches for him, hand wrapping around the girth of his half-hard cock, working him as his forehead briefly thumps against hers. 
“Oh, fuckk—,” Frankie hisses. “Baby. Baby, baby, baby—” he rumbles through the lowest registers of his voice as the fingers of one hand trail up the back of her calf. Frankie’s palm settles on one knee before he roughly pushes her thighs open wider. 
“Look at me,” he whispers.
Audrey slants her gaze down at him as he stares back from under hazy half-closed lids.
Frankie slips his middle and ring fingers into his mouth, sucking the salt from them as her jaw drops open, brows knitted with want. His fingers slip between her folds in time with his tongue between her teeth to deliver the taste of salt to her the moment his fingers slip inside.
“Wet already? Ohh baby,” Frankie purrs into her mouth. “My pretty, dirty baby,” he pants, hips thrusting his cock into her fist now.
She moans into his mouth and arches, pressing her breasts against his chest before she freezes.
“Frankie, get in the car.”
“I want you right here,” he skates his nose up her neck.
“Frankie, there’s a truck coming, get the fuck inside.”
And no sooner does she say it than his ears catch the distant whine of a diesel engine winding up the coastal highway.
“Oh, fuck,” he chuckles, corseting her waist in his generous hands and picking her up off the hood, making sure she has her feet before grabbing the pile of their clothes from off the hood. 
They dive into the backseat of the truck, Audrey first and Frankie close behind such that they end up a tangle of limbs, leather squeaking under wet skin. 
Frankie drapes himself over her, a wet curl falling into his eyes as he peeks up out of the window, tracking the truck’s path.
“Fifty meters,” he reports before mumbling “fuck, I’m sorry baby,” as Audrey shifts under him where knees and elbows fell at painful angles.
“‘S okay, how are we doing?” She glances up at the thick column of his neck above her.
“Ten meters,” Frankie counts it down, “five,” he ducks down out of view momentarily before tracking the truck the other way. 
“I think we’re clear, baby.” 
And the moonlight streaming through the sunroof catches in her eyes, turning them a shade of seafoam. 
Illuminating something that he can’t quite unpack right now through the haze of lust.
Frankie fits his mouth to hers again, suddenly possessed with the need to feel. His palm slides down to cup one breast, pinching her nipple before spreading wide over her ribcage. 
He runs greedy fingertips over her skin as he moves, kissing at her stomach and biting at her inner thigh.
She props herself up on her elbows and takes his cap from her head, tossing it onto the driver’s seat before raking a hand through her curls and reaching for his cheek.
He turns his face to kiss her palm.
And Frankie almost lets something slip on a sigh.
“I—”
“Need you,” he swallows hard. “I need you, Aud,” Frankie’s voice is a cracked whisper when he pauses to look up at her. 
“Have me, Frankie.”
And he again kisses her palm before sucking her thumb into his mouth, crawling back up her body. His right hand snakes down to pump his cock, the other fitting into the crease of her thigh. 
“Are you—?” He murmurs against her lips.
“Frankie—” she chokes on a desperate breath and he thrusts inside of her such that they both cry out, Audrey’s nails sinking into his tricep, Frankie’s mouth open, teeth catching at her jawline. 
“Oh God,” he rests his forehead against hers as she tangles her fingers in his wet curls, tipping her face to suck on his bottom lip.
“Frankie, move,” she urges and he does, slowly at first. Long, deep strokes before he sits up, hands settling on her hips as his speed builds. 
He’s not slow about chasing his own release. 
One knee on the floorboards, the other foot hiked up on the seat with her leg over his hip, fingers digging into the curve of her waist, yanking her against him to meet his every thrust. Audrey braces one hand against the door, and the other on the back of the seat.
Frankie’s a man in a trance. 
Breath hissing through clenched teeth, gaze fixed on where he sinks inside of her. A curl falls loose across a forehead growing damp with sweat. 
Audrey arches in his hold, “you feel so good Frankie.”
“You’re so tight, baby.” 
When he reaches up to grip one shoulder he pulls her ass clear off the seat.
But even in this one-track haze Frankie is quick to protect her, arm looping around the small of her back, and the other coming to the crown of her head, guarding it against the roof as he twists to sit on the seat with her on top of him. 
He pauses a moment with wide, panicked eyes, as though he’s surprised even himself. 
“Smooth, Morales,” she grabs his face between her hands and slips her tongue into his mouth. “Very. Fucking. Smooth.”
And she’s in control now. 
Audrey leans back to brace her hands on his thighs, rolling her hips, allowing them both to feel every inch of each other. Frankie’s head falls back into the space between the headrests, hands roaming her skin, squeezing at her breasts, fingers fitting into the spaces between her ribs, thumbs running down over her abs before settling below her navel, feeling how his cock fills her from the outside. 
“Oh shit,” Frankie’s head snaps back, lip curled as he watches in lurid fascination. Audrey indulges him for a moment before she shifts forward, one hand on the seat, the other on his chin. 
“Look at me.”
And he angles big brown eyes up at her before she kisses him with an open mouth. 
Frankie licks warm and wet down her neck, sucking at the salt of her skin mixed with seawater. He buries his nose between her breasts as he meets her hips halfway, palms skating over her back, one hand tangling in the curls at the base of her neck.
It’s too much when she meets his gaze again.
The way that lust has blown her green eyes dark. The way that plush lips hang open and wet from his tongue. The humid heat of bodies and the smack of flesh.
The way she looks at him with something he can’t name.
And Frankie can’t hold back anymore. He’s rough with her now. Building with frantic speed that has her bracing one palm against sunroof glass with her head thrown back, the sound of skin-on-skin echoing around the truck.
“Fuck, you’re so deep,” she keens.
“Yeah?”
He knows.
One hand moves to cup the base of her skull and roughly pulls her face back to his. 
“You like that?” Frankie presses his forehead to hers, grabbing her hard by the hips, and thrusts up hard into her cunt.
“Fuck,” she whispers.
“Yeahh you do,” he smirks, tipping his face to kiss her. “I know what my girl likes.”
He holds her hips, fully inside of her, the head of his cock pressed deep, guiding her back and forth to grind against him. Putting pressure on her clit. 
“Frankie, Frankie, Fr—ohh,” she breathes.
She can feel him smile against her mouth. 
“You gonna come for me, baby?”
She moans and tries to roll her hips but Frankie’s fingers dig in. 
“My pace, baby.”
And she groans in frustration.
“No, none of that,” he chuckles darkly, one hand sliding along the crease of her hip to rub circles against her clit.
Audrey digs the nails of one hand into the seat and wraps the other hand around the back of Frankie’s neck.
His tongue slips back into her mouth and he rolls his hips without pulling out, just barely teasing at that spot deep inside of her that makes her fall apart. 
“Jesus, Frankie,” she throws her head back. He watches her chest heave. The way the curves of her breasts catch the moonlight shining through the sunroof. He latches his mouth to one, tongue laving over sensitive skin.
The hand on the back of his neck grips hard at his hair and Frankie slips the flat of his teeth over her nipple before she tugs, bringing his mouth back to hers.
Frankie’s arm wraps around the small of her back as his thumb and his hips speed up, growling now. She reaches down, skating her hand over where his rests. Her fingers replace his thumb on her clit and Frankie squeezes the globes of her ass.
“Frankie, I don’t think…”
“Turn around,” he commands.
And she arches an eyebrow, slowly climbing off of him, both moaning at the loss of contact. Frankie urges her around, a palm skating between her shoulder blades, pressing her forward to lean against the back of the passenger’s seat. She languidly drapes her arms over either side of the headrest. 
Frankie shifts on the seat and slowly sinks inside of her again.
“Ohh fuck,” she sighs, forehead thumping against leather. 
Frankie spreads his thighs wider.
“Sit, baby,” but he doesn’t allow her time to react before yanking her down onto his lap, fully sheathed inside of her. He moves slowly at first testing this new angle before leaning forward, dropping kisses down her spine.
“That better?”
And she hums a laugh, glancing back over her shoulder. Frankie’s eyes flick up to her and he grins, nipping at her skin. 
He hooks a hand over her shoulder as he fucks her with the other on her waist, building in pace until his hips lift off the seat with every thrust as she bucks her hips back against him. Audrey reaches between her legs to rub her clit and Frankie growls.
“Yeah, baby.”
And the angle is perfect now and Audrey starts to cry out from the depths of her chest. “Frankie, that’s it, that’s it, that’s it, that’s—OH.” She braces her free hand on the back of the seat and Frankie feels his balls tighten when she pushes back against him as pleasure sears through her.  
Frankie slows his thrusts, moaning as her walls milk his cock.
Audrey finally exhales on a ragged cry and Frankie wraps an arm around her waist to pull her against his skin as hips pick up speed, chasing his own release. 
She arches in his hold, head falling back against his shoulder. Frankie hips snap hard with a shout as his cock pulses, his body shuddering with it. 
Nose smashing against her cheekbone. 
Teeth softly nipping at her jaw.
Audrey reaches up to cup his cheek, lips pressing softly to the corner of his mouth. Frankie kisses her properly, slow and wet as palms rub across her stomach, up her ribs and over her breasts as his tongue slips into her mouth.
The windows of the Rover have gone foggy with heat.
He wraps his arms around her waist and holds her to him, softening cock still inside of her, chest heaving as she moans softly through ragged breaths, still tingling.
Frankie kisses at her cheek and up to her temple before whispering, “was that…?”
“So good.” She shifts and Frankie holds her tighter, head thumping against hers.
“Don’t. Don’t leave me yet,” he pants.
“Frankie,” she scratches lovingly at his scalp. “Baby. I really have to pee.”
And he laughs a self-satisfied laugh against her hairline.
“Okay,” he shifts her, pulling out of her heat with a moan. “Wait,” he holds her with an iron arm around her waist, swiping a hand through the fog on the window, checking that it’s clear before he cracks the door. 
He shifts her onto the seat as he steps out first.
“I’m a big girl, Frankie, I can…”
He holds both hands out to her, corseting her waist, intending to half lift her down onto the beach. “You’re gonna fall, Bambi Legs.”
And she can’t help the hearty laugh that it pulls from her.
True to form, her legs falter the moment her feet hit the sand, but Frankie holds her to his chest, staring down at her through warm brown eyes, tucking her hair behind her ear with a wink. 
Frankie kisses her on the forehead and spins her around towards a small outcropping of rocks. “Go on, Bambi,” he swats her on the ass.
“Can I have my underwear at least?”
“No,” Frankie screws up his face and scoffs, reaching into the tangle of clothes in the backseat to fish out her thong. He has it crushed to his nose when he turns around.
“Perv,” she quips with a grin, swatting him on the arm with them after he hands them over.
She returns to find Frankie leaning against a tire, back door open, barefoot and clad in his jeans and cap, one of her cigarettes dangling between his lips. 
“Excuse me, sir, you can’t smoke there,” she quips as she molds her body against his, slipping her hands into his back pockets. Frankie lights the cigarette and blows the first puff out of the corner of his mouth before holding it to her lips. She inhales before Frankie follows suit.
Audrey pulls away from him, reaching for her sports bra and linen pants. Frankie presses his chest to her back after she pulls them both on, reaching for his t-shirt.
“Leave it,” she spins around and Frankie pops the cigarette between her lips as she runs her hand over his bare stomach.
“Yes, ma’am.” Frankie smiles before his eyes fall on the backseat. 
“We gotta clean this.”
Audrey slips around him, cigarette dangling from her lips, and pops the trunk open, rummaging around for a moment before tossing a packet of Clorox wipes in his direction.
Frankie cleans the seats as she starts the truck and rolls the windows down.
They drive back to the safehouse along the coastal road in companionable silence, wind whipping around the cabin, carrying wisps of cigarette smoke on salted breeze. 
Audrey drives with one hand, fingers of the other laced with Frankie’s.
_____
TUESDAY
When Santiago slips into the driver’s seat the next day for their early morning recon run, the first thing he does is briefly peer over the top of his sunglasses.
“Goddard, I can see your ass-print on the hood.”
“How do you know that’s not Morales,” she quips from the backseat.
“Morales has no ass.”
“Well, you said no come stains.” She pops her gum in the backseat as she loads another magazine into her rifle. “Nothing about ass prints.”  
Frankie pulls the brim of his cap down against Pope’s searing stare and bites the inside of his cheek to hide his smirk.
“Unbelievable,” Santi starts the ignition. “You two are unbelievable.”
“Unbelievably good at fixing that belt.” Frankie quips, banging one palm on the dashboard as they pull out of the drive.
“Fuck you, Fish.”
“She did that already.”
Audrey cackles from the backseat.
_____
Six hours later, Benny shows up on the doorstep of their safehouse.
Audrey greets him in leggings and a worn green t-shirt. 
“Well hell-o,” Benny peers down at her over the frames of his aviators.
“Miller?”
“Yup, yeah. Ben Miller,” he holds out his hand. 
“Audrey Goddard,” she offers a sturdy shake. “Come in, come in. The boys are just through in the back here,” she gestures through to the backyard.
Fish and Pope are locked in a sparring match, Frankie’s arm around Pope’s throat, wooden knife pulled out, ready to jab between Santi’s ribs before Pope taps him twice on the arm.
“Boys?’ Audrey calls.
Both of their heads turn in her direction and immediately they erupt in camaraderie. 
Hugs and claps on the back, big smiles all around. 
Audrey slips back inside, allowing them a moment to catch up.
After they’ve said their hellos Benny nods towards the house, “so uh, who’s that? She come with the place?”
“Moose? Nah. She’s running this thing.” Santi grins. 
“Like the coordinator?”
“No, like the Mission Commander, Benny.” Frankie scoffs. 
“No shit,” Benny perches his hands on his hips.
“Well. She technically outranks you,” Santi whacks Benny’s chest with the back of his hand. “Don’t overstep.”
And overstep is the first thing that Benny does.
“So you’re the Mission Commander?” Benny barks when she returns.
“Yes,” Audrey sets a fresh pitcher of water on the patio table.
“What’s your background?”
“I’ll have Davis email you my full roster,” she slips dark shades over her eyes against the sharp afternoon sun.
“Can’t tell me yourself?”
“We don’t have that much time.”
“What branch?”
“Never served under a branch.”
“So you never served.”
“I’ve been serving for almost 25 years, Miller.”
“Benny, did you not get—” Santi starts.
“I did. Didn’t read it.” Benny’s eyes are still locked on hers from behind mirrored aviators. “Alright,” he nods toward the lawn. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Frankie lets out a low whistle. “You’re about to be humbled, Benjamin.”
“Maybe,” he calls, not believing it for a second. “You’re tiny, though,” he says to Audrey, who slips off her shades and tosses them to Frankie.
Audrey’s no waif, but Benny is nine inches taller and has fifty pounds on her. 
And Benny fights guys bigger than he is down at the gym all the time. And wins. 
There’s no way in his mind that she can best him. 
“Take those off, pretty boy,” she points at his shades.
“‘S fine.”
“Alrigh,” she toes at the dirt, “not on me if they break.”
“Alright, keep it clean you two. No punches, no kicks, nothing permanent,” Santi calls. “Aud, you got knives on you?”
She reaches into her boots and pulls two out to hand over.
“Benny?”
“Nah, I just got off a plane, man.”
“Alright, set it up.”
 Benny jumps a few times before holding his fists up to his cheeks in a guard.
Audrey drops her right foot back and crouches.
And Santi gives the cue.
Immediately Benny closes the distance between the two of them, scooping her up and throwing her over his shoulder like a ragdoll. She’s quick to react, twisting to hook the inside of her elbow around the back of her knee, pulling tight such that the crease of her hip and the top of her thigh apply pressure on Benny’s neck, choking off his carotid artery.
He has no choice but to tap out, aviators hanging awkwardly off of the end of his nose.
“Okay,” he finally hands them off to Santi, raking his hair out of his eyes, “two out of three.”
Santi gives the signal again and Benny goes for her knees this time, immediately dropping her to the ground. They tussle for a moment before Audrey locks Benny in a triangle choke that he can’t find his way out of.
He taps out against her collarbone.
“Okay, three tries,” Benny grunts, blue shirt starting to darken with sweat.
“Benny, that’s—” Fish tries to intervene.
“It’s fine, Frankie,” Audrey’s chest is heaving as she holds up a hand in his direction. “Let him have it.”
They get back into position and when Santi gives the signal Benny is immediately behind her, trapping her neck in a chokehold between his arms, huge palm applying pressure to the back of her skull.
Frankie twitches but Santi holds out a hand.
Audrey jumps with her legs in the air, using their weight to swing Benny forward, turning as she lands and slipping her head from between his arms. Benny braces himself on his palms and immediately constricts, balling himself in an effort to cut off her ability to hook any of his limbs. In a flash she leans on his back, wrapping an arm over one shoulder and the other under the opposite armpit, prying one elbow away from his torso with a jab of her knee. Her leg hooks it and kicks back, taking Benny’s arm with it to its full span. She locks the top of her foot over her calf with his outstretched limb between her legs and spreads her knees, the pressure from her hips bending Benny’s arm the wrong way until he frantically slaps at a patch of dirt.
She instantly unfolds from him and rolls away into the grass.
“Alright,” he pants, holding out a fist, still face-down on his stomach. “You win.”
Audrey taps it with her own knuckles, fighting for breath. “You alright?”
“Yeah,” Benny swallows hard through his panting, “Yeah I’m good.”
He sits up and stretches his arm for good measure.
“Can we be done here?” Frankie asks, unsure that his heart can handle seeing her in danger, and positive that his dick is going to act up seeing her get herself out of it. “It’s fuckin’ hot.”
They take turns with showers between the safehouse’s two bathrooms, until Frankie slips in with Audrey.
“Thoughts?” He asks quietly, wetting his hair under the spray.
“He made good choices out there,” she hands him the bottle of shampoo. “Smart in a fight.”
“Yeah, Benny fights down at the local gym. Kind of a small-town celebrity.” He sneaks a kiss at the nape of her neck as he scrubs at his scalp before rinsing. “I didn’t know you could do that, though.” 
“Getting too old for much hand-to-hand these days,” she winks over her shoulder at him as he grabs the conditioner bottle from her, raking cream through her curls before slicking the excess through his own hair.
“He got you good back here,” Frankie delicately runs thick fingers over the bruises blossoming on the wings of her hip bones from when Benny took her knees out from under her. 
Frankie wraps his arms around her waist, holding her to his chest a moment.
“Don’t like seeing you like that.”
“This is what we do, Frankie,” she soothes a palm over his forearm.
“Yeah.”
And he gently turns her head to slip his tongue into her mouth, enjoying this moment to themselves.
Frankie warmed by the water. 
Audrey warmed by Frankie.
_____
They rejoin the boys in the kitchen where Santi has started on steaks and Benny has thrown in to whip up roasted vegetables. 
Frankie cracks open beers and passes them around.
Afternoon flows into evening. Beer flows into liquor. 
Camaraderie abounds.
Somewhere around 10pm, when Audrey excuses herself to the restroom, the whiskey in Benny’s veins springs a question loose.
“Alright, boys,” his voice is low. “Which one of you is hittin’ that because if you’re not, I’m gonna.”
“That’s pretty bold of you to assume she’d have you, Benny,” Pope reaches for his glass.
“It’s that white boy confidence,” Frankie quips from where he’s leaned back in his chair and Santi snorts, nearly spitting out his drink.
“I mean—” and Benny makes a show of running his hand through his hair. “But seriously, is she single?”
“She’s not gonna fuck you, Benny.” Santi grins.
“Alright, okay. I see you, Pope,” Benny smacks the back of his hand against Santi’s arm.
“I think I have to turn in, boys,” Audrey sighs when she returns, reaching for her glass without sitting and tossing back the last of her gin. “We’ll run it through top to bottom tomorrow and get you geared up,” she nods at Benny. “I have Davis’ guys refreshing the intel. Provided everything still checks out, we’ll execute on Thursday as originally planned.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Benny nods. Bourbon eyes starting to fall heavy on the sway of her hips. 
She places her glass in the sink before moving to gently grab Frankie’s chin one hand, thumb and middle fingers fitting in the bare patches in his beard, and bends to give him a quick, chaste kiss.
He hooks an arm around her waist when she moves away, hauling her against him again, “I’ll be there in a sec,” he assures her before craning his head up for her lips again.
“No rush,” she soothes a hand over the span of his chest, “I might be back down for water, but you boys enjoy. G’night.”
When she’s upstairs and out of earshot, Benny erupts in hushed tones.
“CATFISH, YOU DOG.”
Frankie grins and blushes in that order.
“Damn,” Benny muses to himself as he takes another sip of whiskey. “I would not have guessed.”
“Ah c’mon you should know better, Benny.” Santi jabs a thumb in Frankie’s direction. “Big Dick Morales, remember?”
“BIG. DICK. MORALES.” And Benny holds his hand up for a high-five that Frankie rolls his eyes at, crossing his arms against his chest instead. “Damn.”
“Bastard finally found his glass slipper,” Santi quips.
“Jesus Christ, Pope,” an agitated Frankie rubs at his eyes. “Okay can we—” Frankie winds his hand forward through the air, wanting desperately to move away from this line of conversation. 
Benny leans in across the table, finger pointed at the ceiling in reference to the woman upstairs, “the whole thing? Fuuuck.”
“Dude, you can hear the two of them like three rooms over,” Santi snarks.
“Oh well you gotta enlighten us, Catfish,” Benny spreads his arms and leans back in his chair.
“I ain’t tellin’ you shit, Benjamin.” Frankie quips, swallowing a mouthful of whiskey.
“Ah, c’mon, Fish. You know me and this one are painfully single.” Benny smacks Pope on the arm again. Like literally, my balls ache.”
“That’s not a real thing,” Frankie shakes his head.
“It is!”
“Then get acquainted with your hand, Benny, I dunno what to tell you.”
“She is smokin’ hot, Catfish. Can I at least get some material here…”
Frankie shakes his head and starts, “I’d suggest you try www dot p-o-r…”
And there’s a snort from the stairwell
Audrey in black sleep shorts and a Nine Inch Nails t-shirt, metal waterbottle in hand.
And she watches the tips of Benny’s ears start to burn.
Even Santiago sits up a bit straighter.
Frankie covers the smirk on his face with the heel of his palm.
Because he knows Audrey’s about to put Benny back in line for the second time today.
“Don’t let me stop you, boys,” she pads over to the sink on bare feet to fill her bottle.
Fraught silence hangs in the air until Benny pipes up.
“We uh, we were just asking Big Dick Morales over here to tell us his secret.” Bourbon has made Benny’s tongue loose. “Seems like you could have anyone and yet you chose this guy. Must know something we don’t.”
Audrey has a measured tolerance for many things. 
Slandering her lover is not one of them. 
“Benny,” she places her water bottle on the table. “Benjamin?” And she drapes her arm across Benny’s shoulders in a move that sends him rigid in his chair from the slouch he was in.
“You really want to know his secret?”
Benny swallows hard. 
“He’s sweet. He’s smart. He’s funny. There’s no peacocking with him. It’s that easy, Benny.”
Benny snorts like he doesn't believe her. 
Sober Ben Miller would never steal a friend’s girl. Drunk Ben Miller is a 6’3” blue-eyed, dirty dishwater blonde who’s never been told ‘no.’
And Audrey needs to disavow him of whatever little fantasy he has that distracts him from the task at hand and makes him think she’ll end up in his bed after the celebratory round of drinks when this is all through.
She cranes low to whisper near Benny’s ear, eyes glinting where they’re locked on Frankie’s mischievous, half-lidded ones. “Okay, here’s a secret, Benny. You ever found that spot that’s so deep it makes your lady see stars? Not the one up front, any idiot can find that. It’s way back in there, tucked away because it’s the most precious place you’ll ever go. That one spot that sets her whole body reeling for minutes afterward. You ever found that?”
And she waits until Benny answers, “no.”
“No? Santi, you ever done that?” She doesn’t move, and doesn’t break Frankie’s stare as she asks it.
“Once or twice,” it’s the truth, but Santiago smirks because he knows what she’s doing and agrees that it needs done. “It’s been years though.”
“Wild. Frankie hits that every. time.”
She claps him on the back, “you should try it, Benny. Good communication is key, but you’ll get there.”
And she hooks a finger into the cap of her water bottle and heads for the stairs.
Frankie throws them a salute with two fingers and follows right behind her.
“Was that too harsh?” She whispers when Frankie turns the lock on the bedroom door, brown eyes wide.
“Baby,” he grabs her around the waist, peppering her face with the softness of his lips and the scrape of his scruff. “That was so. fucking. sexy.” He trails his nose down her neck, licking and sucking at her skin.
“I only told the truth, Francisco,” she throws her arms around his neck.
And Frankie presses her to him, palm accidentally catching on her bruises and she winces.
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he apologizes with lips on her neck.
“‘S okay,” a kiss, “get in bed, Frankie.”
Frankie hums, tongue licking behind her teeth. 
And she crawls under the duvet, settling on her side as Frankie quietly strips down to his boxer briefs, placing his cap on the nightstand.
Frankie hums as his lips find her ear and his hand cups her breast, making her arch back against him with a moan.
“Shhh baby,” Frankie soothes. “Not sure how thin these walls are.”
“Pope doesn’t give a shit.”
“Benny might. Wouldn’t want to scare the kid.”
“That’s a grown man, Francisco,” she whispers as she twists in his hold, hand cupping his jaw. “And I don’t really care what Benny hears,” her fingers slip down his stomach, nails catching on the trail of hair leading under his waistband.
She smirks against his lips, “how did that conversation even start?”
“Mhmm,” Frankie squeezes her thigh and pulls her closer to him, nose skimming her cheek. “Benny wanted to know if you’re single.”
“Am I not?”
“No. You’re mine.”
And he moves before Audrey can process Frankie having laid their situation that bare in front of her. He rolls and pulls her with him to lie on his chest, hand cradling her skull as his lips find hers.
But he senses her hesitation.
“Do—do you want to fuck Benny?” His eyes are suddenly soft. Unsure of himself.
“No, Frankie, I don’t want to fuck Benny.” She adjusts to straddle his hips and sits up, raking her hair out of her eyes.
“Then wh—”
“Shhh, Frankie, please,” she soothes both hands over the slight swell of his belly. “Tonight, I’m yours,” she cranes down to kiss him, “and for the rest of this trip, I’m yours.”
But it all sounds so temporary.
And he wants so desperately to push back. To ask what happens in the after. 
What happens when she goes home? Does she lay in bed alone, sleeping like a baby, or is her bed warmed by someone else? 
Does she wish for his company when she goes to the movies, does she need someone to hold her shopping bags at the mall, who packs her groceries in her fridge, or does she do it all alone?
Does she make herself come and wish it was him?
Is he some secret she keeps stashed away?
Is there another?
Does she think of him at all?
“But—”
“Francisco. Leave it.” Her gaze is granite. “Please. Please let us just have this. Right here. Right now.”
And the thing in her eyes is back again. The thing he can’t quite name.
But there’s want there too.
And it’s only the whiskey with a side of beer that allows him to acquiesce.
“Okay,” he whispers, kissing her deeply before sitting up, palms skating up the panes of her back before flipping her over, parting her legs with his shoulders.
And he means okay out of desperation. The visceral need to prove his worth to a woman that could slip through his fingers and into another man’s bed on a whim.
There would be a taker downstairs.
And okay he’s going to do his best.
Okay, he’ll pour want—need—through his fingertips.
Okay.
He’ll crack granite.
And Frankie has all the right moves. The skillful flick of his tongue, the hollowing of his cheeks, and the pump of his fingers.
But Audrey’s brain won’t let her come.
“Baby,” he looks up from between her thighs, rubbing a palm down her stomach, “where are you?”
She takes a deep breath as he rakes his hair off of his forehead and runs his tongue over a bottom lip wet with her slick.
“Fuck, I’m sorry, baby.” She props herself up on her elbows and Frankie gently lets her legs fall open to climb up her body, the tip of his nose brushing hers.
“What’s wrong, gatita?” He whispers.
And that word feels a world away from where they are now.
“Think I’m just distracted, Frankie.”
“It’s okay. It’s okay, that’s okay, baby,” he tucks a stray curl behind her ear before shifting around to lay next to her. He settles on his side, pulling the duvet up enough to take the tent in his boxer briefs out of the equation.
She stares into the middle distance while Frankie sits with her in the silence. 
Palm still rubbing her stomach under her t-shirt.
Trying to soothe himself with her skin.
He’s losing her.
She settles down next to him, his hand settling on her ribcage, thumb rubbing soft circles into her skin.
Big green eyes settling on brown ones that are doing their best to hide panic.
When she reaches for his cheek his lids flutter closed, her cold hand a balm to his burn.
Audrey maps the contours of his face with reverent fingers. Palm curving over the roundness of his cheeks. Nails catching on his beard. Thumb tracing echoes of the joy that accumulates in the corners of tired eyes. 
She runs her index finger lightly over the scar on the bridge of his nose.
She presses a kiss to his lips.
And he offers a soft smile when he opens his eyes again.
“Frankie,” she whispers, running her thumb feather-light over his bottom lip, “do you remember what I told you. That second night?”
“You told me a lot of things that second night,” he runs his fingertips down her spine.
“But what I always come back to is—”
“You’re beautiful.”
They both whisper it at the same time.
The corner of Frankie’s lips quirk in a gentle smile that dimples one cheek.
“You’re beautiful Frankie,” she kisses his chin. “I need you to know. You’re beautiful.”
And it soothes him in the moment. Enough that his eyes start to slip closed, pulled at first by the weight in his chest. The need to shut out this reality. 
She turns in his arms to press her back to his chest and he pulls her in to him, tucking his nose against her neck.
Settling into each other like they do every night they share a borrowed bed.
And Frankie slips off, warm breath skating over her skin.
But Audrey’s heart still pounds in her ears.
_____
They shift around each other in the night.
Frankie’s legs tangling with hers.
Her fist clenching in the cotton of his shirt.
His palm cupping her warm breast. Staying there.
Audrey’s tongue slipping into his mouth.
Frankie pulling at her waist urging her on top of him.
“Baby, I need you—” he swallows hard. Unable, through the haze of sleep, to stave off the seep of apprehension into his viscera. 
Desperation.
It bleeds into the haze of his dreams and back out into reality when her weight blankets him.
He skates his nose up the side of her neck, hot puffs of breath dampening her skin before he nips at her ear, “now. Right now baby.”
Take this feeling from me.
Let me prove that you’re mine.
She sits up from where she straddles his hips, pulling her t-shirt off as Frankie rights himself to lave his tongue over one tight nipple.
Audrey wraps her arms around his neck and his hands settle over her shoulder blades before he lays her backwards, kissing a path down her form as her fingers tangle in his hair.
He feasts until her body goes taught with pleasure, every throb of her walls around his fingers a beat of reassurance to his buzzing mind.
She keens his name when she breathes again.
“I’m here, baby. I’m here,” he hurriedly tugs his boxer briefs down, pumping his thick, weeping cock.
He rubs the head of his cock through her folds before sinking in slowly, mouth dropping open a fraction with each inch that he gives her. 
Audrey’s back arches off the bed, hand flying to cover her mouth.
Frankie weights her form with his, kissing at her knuckles, begging for the moans trapped behind them.
She allows it.
Allows Frankie’s tongue into the wet of her mouth, still tasting of her.
Allows him to sit up and bring both of her legs together, holding her ankles with one massive hand as she reaches back to grip the edge of the bed. He guides one to each shoulder, fingers digging into the meat of her thighs. 
Knocking against something sacred.
And she’s trying. 
Trying not to scream for him.
Not to let slip how she needs him.
Here. Like this.
All ways. Always.
But Frankie settles one palm low on her stomach and applies pressure with the heel of it. Feeling the bulge of his cock as he fucks into her. 
A bit more pressure and the crown of his cock catches her g-spot. Over and over.
Sending sparks across her vision.
And Audrey loses it.
Composure.
Sanity.
The scream choked in the back of her throat.
The tenuous hold she had on the tide of pleasure that breaks over her now, causing frantic hands to reach for his wrist and nails to sink into his thigh.
Walls throbbing around his cock.
She’s probably woken the whole house.
Good.
Frankie’s jaw clenches through the pulsing of her cunt, thumb slipping through the slick he pulls from her core to wind against her clit.
He can’t keep the moans in now.
And so he gives them to her.
Leaning forward with one leg still over his shoulder to bite at her bottom lip.
“You’ve got one more in you,” he inhales through his teeth, “don’t you, baby? One more, come on baby.”
“Frankie,” she sobs, swallowing hard, “you know better,” she grips at the sweaty roots of his hair. “You know better than that, baby.”
And he growls from somewhere deep in his chest, sitting up enough to let her leg down.
But he lets it down across his body, slipping his cock from her heat and flipping her over onto her stomach with the momentum of it.
Audrey immediately braces herself on her forearms as Frankie thrusts back inside of her, the weight of his body falling against her not a moment after.
“I do know better,” he mashes his nose to her temple. “I know my baby likes it like this, doesn’t she?”
And it’s so sordid. The speed with which Frankie’s hips move now, skin slapping against hers. The way his tongue licks a stripe over her ear. The wet squelch of his cock through her slick.
The grunts he can’t help when he’s this close. 
Audrey grins with teeth in her bottom lip from under a cascade of black curls.
“I can feel it, you know,” Frankie purrs, beard scraping against her cheek before his nose follows suit. “Feel when I’m in that spot.” He sucks on her neck before sliding the flat of his teeth against her skin.
She lets out a sultry hum.
“Like it was made for me. So fucking tight around my cock.”
And all she can do is moan in response because he’s slowed his pace. There’s the slightest circle to his hips with every thrust.
Grinding deep—hard—as if to prove his point.
He’s doing it spectacularly.
“Jesus, Frankie,” she moans, head dropping into the space between her forearms. 
She’s warm gold in his hands, pliable and glistening. Bending with his attention. Made malleable with his want.
Something precious.
He props himself up with one arm and runs a reverent palm down her spine before fitting fingers to the curve of her waist and slipping under her hips.
She keens the moment he starts toying with her clit.
“Harder, Frankie,” she gasps with the breath that he hasn’t stolen from her ribcage.
He moans, a deep, cracked thing as he buries his face between her shoulder blades.
The snap of his hips jostles her against the mattress, slowly at first before Frankie’s rational brain shuts off.
He slips his fingers from her, reaching for her thigh and pulling it up towards her waist, fitting his knee behind it.
Hips grinding her clit against the bed.
His pace builds until his moans drown out her fractured sobs of pleasure, teeth scraping at her shoulder, her body blanketed by the breadth of his form. 
She slips one hand down to work her clit. “Frankie, yes, yes, ye—”
“C’mon, baby. Yeahhh—”
“Oh fuck. Frankie. Frankie, Frankie, Fr—” Her body bows, back colliding with his chest the moment he moves to kiss her with a open, uncoordinated mouth as her walls clench hard around him.
“‘M gonna fucking come,” he hisses in her ear. “Gonna come. Gonna—fucking—cover you with it.”
And she keens between the aftershocks and Frankie’s promise, burying her face in the tangle of sheets.
“You—yeahh—you want that? Want my come? Fuck, baby—” he chokes out.
And it takes everything he has to pull out of the grip of her cunt at the last minute, wrapping his fist around his heavy length, pumping his cock twice before thick ropes of come streak across her spine.
Frankie roars, rushing to slam his cock back inside of her, still throbbing with his release, body twitching and trembling with pleasure before he stills.
Audrey’s soft moans call him back to her. 
Fragile, wrecked things, tangled with heaving breath.
Frankie pulls out with a groan from them both as Audrey protests the loss of his heat at her back.
Until the hot wet of Frankie’s tongue slides over her skin.
He cleans her of his come with a greedy mouth, lips sucking up her spine as he does.
“Fuck,” she whispers.
Finally he returns his full weight to her, one hand splaying against her jaw and bringing her face back towards his.
He tastes of himself. 
Bitter salt and insatiable lips.
Audrey’s face drops back into the sheets when he lets her go, arching up against him with the need to feel his solid weight.
His warmth.
Frankie gently gathers her hair in one hand, peppering her neck and back with kisses before he rests his chin into the curve of one shoulder.
She’s molten now.
“W’s that okay?” He whispers.
And she’s incapable of doing anything more than letting out a throaty, satisfied hum and pressing a kiss to the scruff of his cheek.
Frankie musters enough strength to pull her with him back up to the head of the bed, tucking her against his chest, palm soothing over her back as she nuzzles her nose against his neck.
Audrey’s hazy, murmured, “you’re beautiful,” is the last thing either of them hear before sleep takes them again.
_____
THURSDAY
“Boys, we have a slight wrinkle. They’ve got three more jeeps out here than they did yesterday,” Audrey reports as she stares through a pair of binoculars from where she’s parked a mile away from the compound.
“Benny and I could slash those tires before heading in,” Santiago’s voice crackles over comms.
“Too risky and you wouldn’t have time. They’re on the opposite side of the compound from your entry point.”
“Problem is, more trucks means more men,” Benny chimes in.
“It also means unfamiliar faces. Might actually make it easier to slip in,” Frankie muses.
“I have a distraction in my back pocket, but report back when you’re in position,” Audrey radios.
“I bet you do.”
Frankie growls, “she means an RPG, Benny.”
They suffer through fifteen minutes of silence before Santi reports back. “You were right, Fish.”
“Let us walk right in,” Benny murmurs.
“Consensus seems to be they’re prepping to move the hostage in about an hour. We’ll ingratiate ourselves until then.”
“This’ll be easier than we thought, boys.”
Frankie hisses, Audrey shushes, and Santi shoots him a pointed stare.
“Don’t fuckin’ say that Benjamin.” Fish growls.
“It’s not done yet,” Audrey murmurs.
Ten minutes later, Benny asks, “Moose, did those Jeeps look armored?”
“Unfortunately for you, no.”
“Okay, we have a slight hiccup,” Benny’s voice is low. “Their planned extraction route has changed. They’re heading in the opposite direction from the airstrip.”
“Great,” Frankie mutters.
“So, my way,” Audrey chimes in.
“The planned route runs right past you, Moose,” Santiago adds.
“We could still take the risk. Break at the last minute?” Benny suggests.
“Too dangerous if those Jeeps aren’t armored. Aud can start knocking them off but they’ve got more men than we accounted for and we dunno how many vehicles they’re going to mobilize,” Fish scratches at his chin and reaches for a map.
“Moose, that Rover have a turbo on it?”
“It’s got two, Benny. But we still can’t make that run to the safehouse. The jungle’s too dense and they’ll be too hot on our tail the minute they get wise. We have to get the hostage into the chopper and Frankie’s gotta make the final run.”
And it’s like she and Frankie have the same idea at the same time.
“So, this is risky—” Fish starts.
“The beach.” Audrey says.
“Think that would give you enough space?”
“If you can be there the minute we break through.”
“I can.”
Audrey’s quiet for a moment, running through contingencies. “Okay boys, we’re gonna do a live handoff.”
“You’re not gonna stop, Aud?” Santi asks, voice jumping half an octave.
“I don’t think we’ll have time. Think you and Benny can handle that switch?”
“You hop in the bird and I can hand her up,” Benny mumbles to Santi.
“Yeah,” Pope nods with bright eyes. “Yeah, that’ll work.”
“We’re good if you both are,” Benny reports.
“Frankie, you good?” Audrey asks.
“I’m good. Give me a five minute warning before hostage extraction, I’ll get this up and hold the area.”
“Okay. Santi and Benny, you come straight to me. No sense in taking men out if they’re headed this direction anyway, it’ll just tip them off. But that means you boys are gonna have to floor it. Give me as much lead time as you can.”
“Done.” Benny answers.
“I’ll drive. You get in the back with the girl,” Pope nods.
“Yeah.”
“Anyone have any questions?” Audrey asks.
She gets three ‘no’s.’
“Everyone clear on their role?”
She gets three ‘yes’s.’
“If anyone has any doubts, speak up now. If not, everyone confirm, individually, that this plan is a go.”
Without hesitation, everyone answers ‘confirmed.’
“Alright boys. Benny and Pope, are you both in position to start the clock?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. I’m officially marking five minutes until extraction. Frankie, get her up.”
“Roger.”
Ninety seconds later Frankie confirms he’s in the air and has cleared the airstrip.
“Benny and Pope, you’re cleared to move in accordance with the timeframe.”
They’re out and in the back of the Jeep in another seven minutes. An unknown man slips into the passenger seat thinking he’ll hitch a ride with the boys, and Benny covers the girl’s eyes and ears with two massive hands as Pope fires a silenced shot at the man’s temple before he floors the truck.
They catch up to Audrey in another two minutes.
“They’re sixty seconds behind us,” Benny blurts out as he opens the door, immediately grabbing the girl out of the backseat. “Sorry about this, sweetheart,” he mumbles as he picks her up and hurriedly transfers her into the Rover, sliding in behind her and slamming the door.
She’s quiet and pliant, but there’s panic in her eyes. 
“Santi, there’s two minutes on that,” Audrey simultaneously tosses a live charge to Santi who slaps it onto the Jeep, right over the gas tank, before he slips into the passenger seat, slamming his door as Audrey hits the accelerator.
“Frankie, we’re on the move. ETA to the beach is seven minutes.” Santiago reports.
Audrey catches the little girl’s wide brown eyes in the mirror.
“Hey Diana,” she says with far more calm in her voice than she has any right to have. “I’m Moose. This is Pope,” she gestures to Santi who turns around and offers the girl a winning smile, “and that’s Ben next to you.”
“I know all of this is a lot. But we’re here to get you home.” Santi assures her.
“You ever been on a helicopter, Diana?” Audrey asks again and the boys pick up on where she’s going with it.
“One time,” the girl answers in a soft voice.
“That’s awesome!” Benny chimes in. “Did you like it?”
She nods.
“Well, there’s a helicopter coming around just for you that’s going to fly you to your parents.”
“Okay.”
“We’re gonna help get you inside, but we’re gonna need you to be really brave, okay?” Santi says. “The guy flying the helicopter is called Catfish, he’s my best friend. And I’m going to be with you the whole time.”
She nods, eyes still wide with fear.
“We’re gonna have to move pretty fast once we get down to the beach okay?” Benny says as they hear the charge Santi set go off in the background.
“We’re gonna crawl out through there,” Pope points at the sunroof.
And she starts shaking her head ‘no.’
“Hey, Diana?”
This from Audrey.
“I just wanted to tell you that I think you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.”
“Really?”
“I really do!”
She brightens a bit at that.
“I know you can do this. And these boys are going to keep you safe, that’s what they do best. Keep people safe. And then in less than an hour, you’ll be with your parents.” She meets the girl’s eyes in the mirror again. “I promise.”
“You pinky swear?”
Audrey laughs and reaches one gloved hand behind her.
“I pinky swear.”
And she feels a small tug at her hand.
Benny holds his pinky out and Diana wraps her small finger around it before doing the same with Santi.
“Frankie, beach in one,” Audrey reports.
“Roger,” he returns over coms and thirty seconds later they hear the thump of rotor blades. “They’re about two minutes behind you.”
“That’s your ride, Diana,” Santi flips the switch to open the sunroof as he crouches on the passenger seat.
“Diana?” Audrey asks.
“Yeah?”
“Keep your eyes shut real tight for me until Pope tells you to open them again, okay?”
And the little girl shuts her eyes and covers her ears as Audrey wrenches the wheel to the right and hits sand.
“Frankie, I’m going to aim for 60 mph, or I’ll run out of beach too quickly,” she reports.
“Roger.”
And Audrey lines the Rover up on firm sand as the thump of rotor blades grows louder. Wind and sand whip around the cabin as Santiago climbs out of the sunroof.
When Frankie gets the bird close enough, the downdraft from the rotor blades keeps sand in the cabin to a minimum, but creates a wake around the Rover.
Audrey’s only able to see about a hundred feet in front of her at any given time.
“Frankie, my vis is shit, callout if we’re gonna hit anything.”
“You’re clear for at least two miles if you hold it straight. Rock outcrop that would take some maneuvering just short of mile three.”
Two minutes. They have two minutes.
Santiago grips the roof rack in a crouch until Fish brings the helicopter skids within two feet of the truck. 
He easily launches himself onto the skids, Frankie expertly accounting for the impact. 
The bird doesn’t even rock.
Audrey chances a glance up at the chopper.
This is gonna work.
She gestures for Benny to get into position. 
He urges Diana onto the front seat, and mercifully she doesn’t put up a fight.
Benny climbs onto the center console, but the moment he sticks his head out of the sunroof, bullets start flying.
Santiago instantly reacts, laying down suppressive fire as Benny hoists himself up, hooking one foot under a bar of the roof rack, knee on sunroof glass to straddle the open space before he reaches down into the cabin, hoisting Diana up off of her seat with a hand under each arm, his back to the gunfire, shielding her.
Immediately she clings to his neck.
It’s a small blessing when bullets pause.
They don’t want to hit the girl, and Audrey mutters “thank fuck,” under her breath.
Benny assesses their angle and makes eye contact with Santiago who lays his rifle down. 
“Close the sunroof!” Benny yells over rotor blades and wind, and immediately Audrey reaches up to comply, giving Benny more space for solid footing.
It takes less than three seconds for the motor to slide glass closed, but Audrey swears it takes at least a year off of her life.
Benny’s dialed in and readjusts in an instant, standing to his full height.
Frankie and Audrey hold the vehicles dead even with each other, hurtling across the beach at highway speed.
Benny doesn’t hesitate, putting one foot on the skid of the chopper before gently loosening Diana’s hold on him. Santi puts a foot on the skid next to Benny’s and gets well within arms reach. 
Benny still holds Diana close to his body, Pope instead reaching for her.
“On three!” Benny yells, blonde hair whipping around his face.
“ONE.”
Santiago places his hands under Benny’s, making sure he has a firm grip on the girl.
“TWO.”
Benny holds her out just a little farther.
They lock eyes and both nod.
“THREE.”
Benny’s hands drop away and Santiago pulls her in tight to his chest, falling backward into the helicopter as Benny takes his foot off the skid.
“FISH, WE’RE CLEAR GET OUTTA HERE,” Benny crouches down on the roof, screaming into comms as Audrey flips the switch to open the sunroof again.
Benny drops back into the Rover as Frankie pulls hard to the right, peeling out over the ocean and out of range of the bullets that have once again started flying.
Benny reaches through the cabin to grab his rifle off of the back seat and immediately starts firing out of the sunroof as Audrey slows down enough to turn around without rolling the Rover, bringing the truck to a stop.
There’s half a mile between them and the rocks.
Thirty seconds.
She scrambles into the back seat and reaches into the trunk before slowly poking her head up in front of Benny.
Audrey shuffles to the right for clearance, stands on the back seat, and slings a metal tube up over her shoulder.
Half a second later she launches off an RPG.
Anything that remains when the smoke clears is easy work.
Benny takes out three men and Audrey picks off the tires of the one Jeep that made it through.
Everything finally falls silent, save for the muted sounds of the ocean and the crackling of fire—dulled by their ringing ears. 
Audrey reaches for the transmit button on her comms.
“Beach is clear.”
She glances back at where Benny is standing on the passenger seat behind her.
Audrey reaches out a hand.
And Benny shakes it with a laugh.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here, Benjamin.”
“Roger that, Moose. Roger. That.”
_____
Benny tries to hail Pope and Fish over comms periodically on their way back to their safehouse, but between the distance and the terrain, he doesn’t get anything back.
He tries calling and texting, but nothing gets through.
“They’ll have ditched the bird, and it’s probably four hours by car,” Audrey muses as she pulls into the safehouse drive.
“So maybe 6:30? 7?”
“Probably about that.”
“‘Kay.”
But the pauses between their words are thick with worry despite everything still going according to plan. 
They both shower and change into comfortable clothes, Audrey calling in a status report and cleanup while Benny makes hotdogs for their late lunch. 
They fall into conversation that’s far more comfortable now.
He pours Audrey a gin and soda around 5 pm when he can tell she’s still on edge. 
He fixes one for himself too and suggests they sit on the front porch.
6:30 pm comes and goes and Audrey parks herself on the hood of the Rover to light up a smoke.
Benny sits down next to her, propping sandaled feet up on the bullbar.
“Want one?” She angles her packet of Parliaments in his direction.
“Nah,” he politely shakes his head. “Don’t smoke. But you’re good, I don’t mind.”
And she huffs a laugh because Benny’s the one who followed her over here.
He tells her fight night stories to pass the time as she chain smokes, hoping to distract her enough to soothe her buzzing nerves. 
And his.
Audrey pulls a sweatshirt on to guard against the chill.
When 7:30 rolls around, Benny slips a cigarette out of the box and asks if she can give him a light.
Audrey smirks and acquiesces. 
At 8:15pm, Audrey’s phone lights up, notifying her that something has tripped the perimeter alarm.
She quickly unlocks it and holds it up between her and Benny as she presses play on the video.
It’s a car they don’t expect, and in the fading light, it’s too dark to make out who’s inside. 
Benny calmly slides off the hood and opens the Rover, tossing Audrey a rifle and grabbing a pistol for himself before quietly shutting the door. They move in silence to meet behind the truck, staring through the cabin out through the front windscreen, waiting for the car to appear.
It slips calmly into the drive as they both hold guns at the ready. 
Santiago steps out first with a smile on his face. The moment Frankie appears from behind the driver’s seat, Audrey drops her rifle and takes off running.
“Audrey,” Frankie sighs as she collides with his chest, knocking the air from his lungs. He wraps one arm around her back and cups the base of her skull, pressing her tight to him.
“The FUCK took you so long?” Benny booms as he lays his pistol on the hood.
“Stopped for coffee,” Santiago quips, giving Benny a hug and a pat on the back. “Nah, their security detail had car trouble, so we swapped them out so they could move. Frankie fixed this piece of shit up, but it took some time.”
“Gave Benny and I some time to bond,” Audrey moves to give Santi a quick hug now as Benny wraps Frankie in his arms and thumps him on the back.
“That was some real Fast and Furious shit, boys!” Benny whoops.
“Yeah it was,” Frankie returns to Audrey’s side, arm draped around her shoulders.
A smile of pride playing on his mouth.
“Y’all hungry? We’ve got hot dogs,” Benny throws a thumb over his shoulder at the house.
“Fucking starving.” Frankie laughs.
_____
Mirth and liquor flow freely for the rest of the night.
“Okay, so wait, wait. Y’all gave me shit, but Benny doesn’t have a callsign—” Audrey points at the man in question..
“Benny’s callsign is ‘Benny’,” Santi swallows a mouthful of whiskey.
“Sorry, what?”
“Well,” Frankie braces both hands on his thighs with a grin. “This one—this one ti—” but he can’t get it out without dissolving into a fit of laughter. “Benny is ‘Benny’—like Benadryl.”
“Yeah, walk me through that,” she rakes a hand through her curls.
“He got stung by a bee one day, took two Benadryl and slept through an entire training exercise.” Santi is grinning so hard that his face hurts.
“Benadryl can do that, yeah.”
“No. Babe,” Frankie laughs, resting a hand on her shoulder, “he slept through the training exercise WHILE he was out in the field.”
Benny is blushing now.
“He would come to enough to get into a helo, but then he’d fall asleep. Strapped into the seat,” Santiago gestures at his chest through howls of laughter.
“He got out of the bird, got into position on the ground with his rifle like he was about to line up a shot and fell the fuck asleep again,” Frankie wheezes, bracing his hand on Santi’s shoulder as he folds forward in his chair.
And she can’t help but laugh at the sight of Frankie having lost all composure.
“Fucking blanks flying everywhere,” Pope makes a cutting motion with his hand, “my man is OUT COLD.”
“There are pictures,” Frankie wipes at his eyes.
“Yeah, yeah, fuck you,” Benny grumbles, but there’s a smile hiding just behind his lips. “I assume you know about these two idiots.” This to Audrey.
“I do, yeah,” she smiles as she takes a sip of gin.
“You gotta tell me how you got Moose now.”
“Oh,” Santiago reaches into the pocket of his sweatpants for his phone, finding the picture before sliding it over to Benny. “She saved our asses by nailing that shot.”
“Oh, cool.”
Benny isn’t quite impressed.
“Through night vision from a mile away, Benny.” Frankie adds.
His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline now and he holds Santiago’s phone closer to his face.
“Damn, Moose. That’s sick,” he slides the phone back to Santi, “thought it was because of your tattoo.”
“YOU’VE SEEN IT?” Santiago screams.
Benny holds his hands up in front of his chest, “she had a tank top on earlier, I didn’t know it was some kind of secret.”
“It’s not, Benny. Santi just thinks it is,” she winks as one hand idly winds in Frankie’s curls.
“Unbelievable,” Santiago shakes his head.
“I like you, Moose.” Benny holds his glass up in her direction.
She taps the side of hers to his, “I like you too, Benny.”
“You do excellent work,” he swallows a sip, “clean, precise, efficient. Think on your feet. Hell of a shot. You wind this one up,” he points to Santi, “and this one is in love with you,” he gestures towards Frankie. 
And Audrey hides it in the moment, pulling her hand away from Frankie’s hair under the guise of reaching for her glass.
The truth is.
Benny’s just said the last thing she wants to hear.
next
Taglist: @harriedandharassed @missladym1981 @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat @toomanytookas
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Old chapters are hosted on the OFFS Library page. New chapters will be posted here at Ohforficsake.
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legendary-pink-dot · 1 month
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I'm slowly catching up on my TBR!
Javi, Javi, Javi. My favorite office slut. He's the best and we all know it.
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Aquarius
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Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI
Pairing: Javier Pena x new (f) secretary at the embassy
Word count: 1.3 k
Summary: Javi is an unrepentant whore and fucks the secretary on his lunch break.
Warnings: gosh. Sort of mean/careless Javi- he has no idea what her name is. PWP. Unprotected PIV, use Of sex toy, oral (f receiving) deep throating, panty hose, mentions of m receiving oral, mention of anal, mention of masturbation, big dick Javi, probably more, I can’t recall now. Third person pov, oc I guess but minimal physical description of female partner. She is wearing a skirt and panty hose, and is shorter than Javi. Use your imagination and make this you if you want. It’s totally you. Javi wouldn’t be able to resist you, you minx.
A word from the author: sorry, I was horny. I read a blind item that gave me thots and now here we are. He’s a whore, father. Short and dirty!
My Masterlist
Javi doesn’t know why the last secretary left. They went through a few a year. They were always young and pretty and he didn’t mind the fresh scenery while he did his paperwork in the office.
Who was this one? Emily? Heather? Allyson? He couldn’t remember. He knew she had a skirt on and he knew he owed her a pair of panty hose after he had ripped through the pair she had on. He was delighted to find she didn’t also wear panties. He wanted to devour her. He didn’t even buy her dinner or take her out properly. He walked her straight from her desk to his Jeep, then ushered her into his apartment.
He bent her over the kitchen counter so her feet barely touched the floor. Fucked her hard and fast with one hand on her hip and the other pulling her hair back so he can see her face and how wrecked she is by his cock. She didn’t even ask him to wear a condom and he didn’t offer. He pulled out slow then thrust in hard and deep, making her cry out. He tapped her cheek when she closed them. “Uh uh. Eyes on me, querida.” The pet name was the only tenderness he offered.
Javi’s cock was big. It was no secret. If you didn’t know from the office gossip whispered by every woman in the embassy that he had taken in the file room, his back seat, or in his apartment, you could see it well enough through the tight fabric of the pants he wore. He was long and thick, always on his left. He had a knack for knowing when anyone looked at it and he enjoyed how they blushed when he caught them, winking and giving them a salacious little grin.
He easily turned her over without pulling out. A fun little party trick that he liked hearing about second or third hand back in the office. Stripped of everything but the ruined panty hose, he pushed her knees up and cupped one bouncing tit in his hand while the other trailed down to rubbed expertly at her throbbing clit as he drove his turgid member to the hilt.
He knew if he could get the angle just right he make her squirt on the kitchen counter. He wondered if it would be her first time and if she would get shy about it.
He didn’t have time to make her soak his belly and counter, she came anyway, thrusting her hips right up into his own, taking him easily the way she was dripping slick, but gripping him tight in her little pussy. He watched intently at the way he entered her, stretching her little cunt. He loved ruining pretty little pussies. No matter how many dicks she took after this, she’d remember his best. The rhythmic spasm of her orgasm triggered his own. Javi gritted his teeth, pounding into her and unloading deep inside, a warm, abundant mess of cum to drip out of her the rest of the day.
She whimpered when he pulled out, followed by a trickle of milky white that slid down the letting her ass.
Normally Javi would give her a cigarette and take her back to work. He was on the clock and his lunch hour didn’t last forever,after all. The way she was so delirious, so cock drunk for him, though? He couldn’t resist.
He pulled a chair away from his kitchen table and made room for himself between her legs. Licking slow, deliberate stripes along her puffy lips, he used his thumb to push the leaking cum back into her. “Javi…” she breathed, and clenched at his shallow intrusion.
When he sucked her swollen clit into his mouth, she gasped, winding her hips up for more.
“What’s wrong? You didn’t get enough? Fucked out little pussy need more?” He teased in faux incredulity. Whining, she reached for his hair, trying in vain to pull him back to her aching clit. She knew better than to expect him to be ready to go again so soon. “Please, Javier. Make me come again.”
To hell with work. He kissed up over her mound, over the soft skin of her belly, and to the stiff point of each nipple, licking and sucking at each one before smacking her thigh. “Don’t move. I’m gonna call Steve, tell him we got stuck in traffic.” He went to his bedroom and quickly called his partner and told him not to look for him the rest of the day, that he was going to be inside the new secretary. He forgot to ask Steve her name. He hung up quickly and opened his nightstand to retrieve just what the little slut on his counter needed.
Back between her spread thighs, he smacks the thick dildo against her pussy, making her jolt. “Listen to how wet you are.” He positioned the fat head of the toy cock at her entrance and twisted it as he pressed, teasing her. He worked slowly, gently opening her once again, and admiring how it was covered in his cum each time he pulled it back out. He fucked her with the dildo, listening to the squelch of her pussy and her panting and moaning. He loved to pull it all the way out and circle her entrance with his thumb, delighted in the way her little hole clenched desperately around nothing. He licked her firmly from where she dripped up to her clit. The sounds she made grew louder and shriller, bound to draw the attention whis neighbors, but bringing the blood rushing back to his cock.
Fully hard and needing a warm wet hole to fuck, he pulled the dildo from her and brought it to her lips. “Clean it up for me. You’re so messy, querida.” He tsked. He held it while she licked the heady mix of their fluids, and began to stroke his cock while she sucked it. He pushed it deeper, curious to see how much cock she could swallow before she gagged. Her eyes water and she whined around the wet toy, but she took it deep. Javi considered pulling her down to her knees and feeding her his cock instead.
His cock throbbed and he lined himself back up, pushing in with less resistance this time, he set a vigorous pace, his eyes flitting from her flushed, mascara smeared face to her bouncing tits, to where he rammed into her. “Rub your clit. Make yourself come. Come on. Show me what you’re gonna do when you’re thinking about this cock later.” It was his turn to fall apart. “Fuck, Javi. Never going to stop thinking about your big cock. Gonna think about you every night. Gonna think about you fucking me at work. Feels so good, Javi. So fucking big.” Her last orgasm was every bit as intense as the others, crashing over her like a wave, with Javi not far behind, filling her once again with his spend.
As they caught their breath, she didn’t bother getting off the counter. Too boneless to stand yet, she sipped the glass of water he gave her. Javi sat back down in the chair he had pulled over and lit a cigarette. They passed it back and forth in silence, he wondered if she would last long at the embassy, how many more chances he might get to fuck her.
As he though,t he mindlessly stroked her thigh, running his big, warm hand over the smooth Lycra of her ruined nylons. He liked the contrast of how the darker material looked and felt next to where it was ripped open and exposed the silky skin of her thighs. He let his hand roam down to her mound, stroking the soft curls there, then lower, ghosting over her slick and swollen folds, and dared to explore further, pressing the pad of his thumb against the taut ring of her cum-slick asshole. He wondered if she’d let him…
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legendary-pink-dot · 1 month
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Hooooooooottttttttt!
Gruff, terse and dominant.... exactly how I like my Joel. 🥵 I'm gonna pretend you wrote this just for me.
Congrats on your first fic and can't wait to read the next chapter!!! 😘❤️����
The Wolf You Feed (Part 1)
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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Rating: Explicit, 18+ MDNI
Word Count: 8k
Part 1 / ? (Ongoing Series)
Summary: Set in fictional New England town, you fall for your handsome, intense and outdoorsy neighbor while renting out your parent's vacant summer home during a brutal winter.
Warnings: No Outbreak, AU but with TLoU characters, Large age gap (Reader is 29. Joel is 50). This chapter includes smut with fingering and cum eating. Dominant Joel. Eventual Angst. Drinking Alcohol. Pet names but no use of Y/N. Reader is smaller than Joel and has hair he can grab. 
Chapter Excerpt: He presses a gentle kiss behind your ear and another one drags to your jawline and to the soft meat of your neck. His coarse beard scrapes against your skin and makes you shudder. You press your ass into him and feel him hard against your lower back. He responds by pressing into you firmly and brings his mouth to your ear. 
“You feel what you do to me, beautiful girl?” He asks with his low, gravely voice and presses another kiss into you. His heat is searing into you.
A/N: Please hang in there. This chapter has a lot of setup and is a bit of a slow burn. Its also my first fic and I am pouring my heart and soul into it.
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“Remember, if you need anything you can ask Joel. He knows his way around the house” your mother reminds you. 
“Thanks, I will be fine but I’ll keep that in mind.” You appease her but have no intention of bothering her neighbor.
“Love you, honey. Talk later!”
“Bye mom. Love you.” You end the call and slump back against the couch. This was going to be your home for the next few months. Your parents had gone south to avoid the brutal New England winter and had offered their summer vacation home in Kineo to you in the interim. No rent and plenty of free time to figure out what to do with your life next. All you had to do was pay the utilities and keep an eye on things.
The offer was genuine but also came from a place of concern. You had spent the last few years living a more-or-less nomadic life and poorly indulging your dreams of adventure. Your bachelors degree in Liberal Arts proving to be as useless as everyone told you it would be. It got you jobs easy enough but nothing that felt like a long term career. It all felt directionless but you also had been hell bent on proving everyone else wrong and keeping up the appearance that you were doing just fine. 
Your past relationships were nothing too exciting either. Months of casually dating someone and it not really going anywhere or random hookups that you regretted the next day. One or two guys you were getting serious with but ultimately scared you off when they started talking about a family in their big picture. You were starting to get cynical about any compatible prospects.
You are only 29 and wonder if a midlife crisis before your 30’s is normal. At least, that is what it felt like was happening. You had been treading water for too long and felt like you were too tired to keep swimming.
Your mother finally wore you down enough when your lease was up at your Boston apartment and you had no real obligations. You hated your current job, your roommates were little more than acquaintances and the busy city life scene was starting to lose its charm especially when it was astronomically expensive to live there. It was getting harder to say no so you agreed to her offer. 
You had to admit living in the country sounded like a nice change. You had a few months to figure stuff out and the thought of something new was exciting to you. Even if it meant continuing to endure the bitter winter, you had a chance to start fresh somewhere new. Something different. 
You didn’t grow up here and spent most of your life living in suburban homes with slightly warmer climates. Your parents had bought a small one bedroom vacation home in a sleepy New England town that they mostly only enjoyed in the prime summer months. The home sat mostly vacant otherwise. They would rent it out for weeks at a time but in the winter months no one from away wanted to go there. Too far from ski resorts and civilization to be of interest to a casual vacationer. It had a lake that drew much attention from outsiders only when it wasn’t frozen. The town was reduced to just the year-round locals in the coldest months.
Your new residence was outside the main populous of Kineo and nearby the lake. In fact, you could see the lake peeking through the thick pine trees out the front window if you looked hard enough. 
The closest and only neighbor in sight was the handyman your parents raved about across the street. He kept an eye on the place while they were away. You had never interacted with him on your occasional summer visits, but knew he had been kind to your folks and heard about him often enough. You occasionally saw him out in his yard from afar and he would give a lazy wave to your parents in passing. You never really got a good look at him up close but from what you could see he looked rugged and fit and always wore jeans and work boots. He had a modest waterfront cabin across the street and seemed to keep to himself.
You had arrived just a few days ago and already had a job lined up at the local coffee shop, Grind. You were getting your caffeine fix and saw a help wanted sign in their window and you had no trouble securing the job when you chatted with the owner. She hired you on the spot and seemed desperate but grateful that you actually had enthusiasm for coffee and knew your Americanos from your Lattes. Grind Coffee House was on the main drag along with some other quaint shops. It was charming enough and an easy 10 minute drive from your house. The pay was pitiful but would be enough to get by. Things seemed to be lining up perfectly.
You went to bed early that night and felt optimistic that this was going to be good for you. This was going to be the reset that you craved. A new adventure. It was like nothing you had experienced before and maybe that was exactly what you needed.
Shit. Your first day working at Grind and you can’t even get the car to start. 
It was freezing cold. The kind of cold that hurts when it touches your exposed skin. You turn the key in the ignition again and the engine makes a pathetic attempt to turn over. Nothing. Fuck. 
You turn the key again. Nothing. Fuck fuck fuck. You pull out your phone and realize you have no idea what to do other than call your new boss and make a horrible first impression. No, that wasn’t going to do. You look in the rearview mirror and see across the street that lights are on at your neighbors house, despite the early hour. As quickly as the thought crosses your mind you push it away. No. No way were you going to bother him at this hour. You hadn’t even officially met the guy yet.
You pull up Google on your phone and scan the first few results for “car won’t start” and narrow it down to engine troubles or dead battery. Either outcome is something you are not equipped to handle. 
A few moments pass and you reluctantly weigh the options. Would a garage even be open this early? How long would that take to get someone out there? You were wasting time and had to do something. You curse to yourself and go back inside the house.
You walk over to the fridge where a note is hanging front and center “Joel Miller” with a phone number neatly printed. Your mothers careful handwriting to contact the poor neighbor that she probably harasses all the time. You sigh and open your phone to dial the number.
It rings a few times, and then you hear a gravelly voice that catches you off guard. 
“Hello?” A deep and thick, unfamiliar accent answers. Not what you were expecting. 
“Hi, Mr. Miller.” a long pause and you stumble over your words. “I uh, I’m sorry to call you so early. I'm Rick and Linda’s daughter.” and mumble your name. Another pause. 
“Ah, right. Whatcha need, kid?” He asks with little expression in his tone. You can’t tell if he is annoyed or just sounded that way. 
“My car won’t start and I–” you pause, not too sure how to ask for help from a stranger. “I don’t know what to do...” Your voice trails off with uncertainty on how to ask for help or what you are even expecting. 
You hear a long exhale on the other end, like he is letting all the air out of his lungs while he is thinking on it. 
“Dead battery most likely… on a day like this. I’ll be right over.” He hangs up the phone before you can say another word and instead say thank you out loud to yourself and let your voice trail off. You instantly regret making the call.
You zip up your coat, pull your knit hat snug over your ears and head back outside when you see a black Ford pickup truck ease into your driveway. A tall man wearing a brown suede jacket approaches. The morning light is faint but you can make out that he is much older and has some silver streaking his hair and beard. He looks weathered and rugged but also has a warmness about him that is hard to reconcile with his rough exterior.     
“Joel Miller, I presume?” you nervously laugh and awkwardly introduce yourself for the second time. You attempt to be extra friendly and maybe penetrate his bristly wall. It seems to help when he notices you are a young woman and not some bratty teenager that your parents probably made you out to be. He takes a step forward and reaches a hand out towards you, nodding. He firmly shakes your hand and you are taken aback by how his grasp seems to engulf you.
“Pleasure to meet you, darling.” His voice is smooth and polite and has the tiniest hint of playfulness in his tone. You can’t place his accent, but you know it isn’t from around here and only someone from away would say ‘Darling’ so casually to a stranger. 
His dark brown eyes hold your gaze for a moment and he has the faintest smirk as he subtly scans your body. It sends goosebumps down your spine. You are grateful that you made an extra effort to look cute for your first day of work. You realize your hands are still embraced and nervously laugh as you pull away. He gets right down to business, but not before stealing another peek of your body when he thinks you aren’t looking.  
“Lets see what we got here.'' He climbs into the driver's seat and in no time confirms it's the battery when he hears your car's engine protest. He walks over to his tailgate and brings back some jumper cables. 
You stand there with your arms wrapped around your body trying to hold in as much warmth as possible. Your bare hands clenched in a fist and tucked in as far as they could in your jacket sleeve to shelter from the cold. Your teeth chattering as you try to stand out of the way but want to be nearby too. At least give the illusion you can be helpful if he needs something. You regret your first meeting being a clueless damsel in distress, but maybe he liked that sort of thing. His tune did seem to change once he saw you. 
Joel returns and leans over the edge of the seat leaving the door wide open, his large palm dragging up slowly from the floor to the steering column, searching for the hood release. His finger catches on the button and he pops the hood. It’s hard not to stare at him while he slides his expert hands with reckless abandon.
His eyes find yours and the corner of his mouth raises slightly. You question if you are mistaking his caught you watching me look for more than what it was. He seems to enjoy you watching him work. He steps away from the seat and pulls a pair of work gloves from his back pocket as he works to connect your car to his truck with the jumper cables. He starts his truck back up and approaches you. Your breath and his making little frozen clouds as you exhale. 
“You can sit in my truck if you want, it’s plenty warm in there.” He gestures with his thumb over his shoulder. “This will just be a minute.” You thank him and take him up on his offer and climb into his passenger seat. He has a classical rock station playing on the radio. A thermos sitting in the center console. You glance in the back seat and see some neatly organized tools and miscellaneous junk on the floor. It smells metallic and leathery. 
You outstretch your hands to the vents that are pouring warm air into the cabin and relish the heat.  
A few moments pass and you don’t see much of what’s going on with the hood of the truck blocking your view. You doom scroll on Instagram to keep yourself busy but your mind keeps thinking about Joel. You were in no way prepared for your neighbor to be so fucking handsome. It felt absurd to be so turned on by him.
He’s too old. You tell yourself. Don’t even think about it. 
Your thoughts are interrupted as the hood slams shut and Joel opens the driver's door. He reaches his arm out to grab his thermos while he climbs into the seat with a groan. The door shuts hard behind him and a blast of cold air invades your space briefly.  
“Damn cold one today” He says it with a huff as more of an observation than a complaint. He takes a sip of his coffee and looks over to you. You nod in agreement and find yourself caught up in what to say to him. He pulls off his gloves and tosses them in his backseat. He rests his arm along the back of the seat and it is nearly touching your shoulder. The way his body takes up the space makes you feel small and helpless. Then, you remember you are small and helpless compared to him. He doesn’t feel threatening towards you but you certainly does give off the aura that he could be intense in the right circumstance. You find that undeniably attractive.
“Your folks called me last week. Told me you were gonna be staying here a while.” His eyes are back focused on you. “Meant to come over this weekend and introduce myself.” he seems a little nervous and takes another sip of his coffee. “Didn’t wanna bother you, though.” 
You feel a small smile start to grow on your face. The thought that he shared the same reservations brought comfort. Joel rests his thermos between his legs while still holding it with one hand. He looks like he is hesitating to say something but does it anyway. He looks over at you with tender eyes, 
“Didn’t expect.. You know...” He makes an unreadable expression as he is searching for the words and scans your body up and down. “Someone like you.” You were not entirely sure what he meant by that, but his smoldered stare on your body made you feel hot inside and your cheeks flush. He looked at you with intrigue and it made you feel good. It made you feel wanted. It had been too long since you felt that way.  
In fact, it has been too long since you had any sort of relationship. Even a casual lay.  
“You really saved my ass this morning. Thank you.” You pause and feel yourself giving a sultry gaze back at him. “I owe you one.” Joel makes a no big deal gesture with his hand and a cocky smile as he chews the inside of his cheek. In that brief moment you feel something between the two of you. The desire to flirt; tempt a man with at least 20 years on you. An unexpected but undeniable magnetic pull. A curiosity to learn what lies beneath. A forbidden fruit that is ripe and beckoning for you to take a bite. Something different. Something exciting. Something you know you should stifle before it even begins.  
His eyes reflect the same sentiment but also harbor concern and restraint. It’s a bad idea. The brief silence between you looms loudly. The elephant in the room. 
“Where ya’ off to so early anyways?” he asks, eager to change the subject. He takes another sip of his coffee while you reply.
“Oh, first day working at Grind. You know it?” Joel's demeanor changes in a subtle way that you may not have seen if you weren’t so focused on trying to read him.  
“Oh. Yeah..” he chides and looks down, pensive in thought as he brings his hand to the back of his neck and rakes it through his hair. “I know the place.” He glances back up and avoids eye contact. The bite in his voice does not go unnoticed, but you don’t pry. 
An uncomfortable subject; noted.   
“Better coffee than this I reckon” he says as he places his thermos back in the center console. He attempts to lighten the tone and then glances at his watch.
“I gotta get to work, sweetheart. Keep your car runnin’ for a bit and you should be all set. Probably get that battery replaced.” His tone is more serious now, more business-like. You realize you had been waiting in his truck longer than necessary. You really have to get to work anyways. 
You thank him again and return to your car. He waits for you to get in and raises his fingers off his steering wheel in a lazy wave to signal he was leaving. He backs out of your driveway and heads down the road towards town.
You take a deep breath and adjust the knobs in your car. Joel had put everything on high heat and full blast for you and your car was now unbearably toasty. You tune your radio and ease into the road and on your way to work. 
All the while your mind can’t stop thinking about your charming, handyman neighbor. 
So that's Joel Miller. You smile to yourself and faintly feel butterflies in your stomach. Anxious thoughts that excite and frighten you.  
It took Marlene all of five minutes to become your new work bestie. She was efficient and smart and knew her way around the place. She was the only one working when you arrived and despite the line of customers she was friendly and teased you for arriving late on your first day. 
Marlene had great rapport with everyone. It was apparent that the customers were all regulars and she wasted no time introducing you to them. She had a somewhat forward style but it was well received because she knew exactly what she was doing and didn’t waste time being flowery and over the top. It reminded you of the brashness of Boston.
After the morning rush things were relatively calm. You had time to chat and get to know her a little more while she was showing you the ropes. It wasn’t complicated and you were a quick study.
By mid afternoon it was time to close up shop. The hours were a perk. You were scheduled to work weekdays from open till close and would have to occasionally help out on Saturdays. Marlene worked the same shift and the weekends were mostly covered by high schoolers. 
It was just after 2 o’clock when the owner, Tess, stopped by. 
“How did it go?” she asks you both as she takes a seat and rests her bag on the counter. Marlene had no intention of telling her you were late and talked you up, pleased with your presence. Tess had a few other properties she owned so her time at the coffee shop was only as needed and Marlene you learnt was more or less the one who ran things day to day. 
You recap the day and thank her again for the job. You did genuinely enjoy the work. It was easy. Simple and straightforward. You got to know lots of town folk and everyone was curious and interested in meeting the new girl in town.
Tess seemed pleased enough and was quick to head out. She was friendly but brief and gave the impression she had other responsibilities that demanded her attention. She joins you behind the counter briefly and pours herself a black hot coffee in a to-go cup. Another perk of the job was indulging in all the free coffee. 
“Let me know if you guys need anything!” She says energetically as she collects her bag and heads out the door. She flips the sign to “closed” as she leaves. 
“Tess is cool. She doesn’t interfere too much and we only see her a few times a week, if that.” You nod to acknowledge Marlene. “Lets finish cleaning up and get out of here.”
It was nice leaving with the sun bright and warm. Winter meant shorter days, so getting out of work with a few hours of daylight felt luxurious. The bitter cold from the morning had made its departure. 
You had been so focused with work it wasn’t until you got back to your car that you allowed yourself to think about Joel again. You know you shouldn’t but can’t help feeling turned on at the thought of him. He was handsome in that brooding, mysterious way and he emanated competence. It was refreshing and welcomed. 
You decided to send him a text message. You had his number in your recent contacts after all and you were curious if he would play along. You were certain that there was something sparked between the two of you, but unsure if he would act on it. Unsure if there were too many obstacles between you.
You keep it simple and friendly.   
You: Thanks again for your help! 
Your car starts up with no issue and you head home. When you arrive you glance down to your phone to see a simple reply. 
Joel: Anytime
It was brief but you couldn’t help but read it with that low, southern drawl. His voice was so distinct. Polite but stern. You add him as a contact in your phone and wonder if he did the same. 
You take a shower, make some dinner and get comfortable in your bed. It’s early and you watch some TV when you hear your phone chime. You glance at your phone and see Joel Miller has you on his mind as he revives the conversation with you. 
Joel: So how did it go? 
You smile and recount this feeling like you were a teenager talking to your crush. You want to gush about your first day but you play it cool and brief. 
You: Went good, I think I’ll like it there
A few minutes pass. Against your better judgment you start to go into details but delete it before you hit send. You recalled his strange reaction earlier when you brought up Grind. This man has you second guessing yourself and you don’t want to blow it before it even begins. He replies instead before you elaborate.
Joel: Glad to hear. Thought you would. 
You: I’m exhausted though, getting to bed
You decide to be playful and see how he reacts. 
You: Goodnight, Mr. Miller.  
Joel: Just Joel. 
Joel: Goodnight darling
Darling. Even if it was just a typical Southern phrase it made you wild. It was uncommon to hear in the north and felt so endearing and warm. The knots in your stomach return as you struggle to fall asleep. Your mind is too excited to see where things go from here. You knew he was interested in you enough to keep talking. It would have been easy for him to end the conversation there and keep things formal and neighborly. 
Your mind wanders thinking about how truly handsome he is. How badly you want his manly, rough hands on your body. How his voice makes you melt. How his domineering  presence makes you tingle in your core. You feel yourself starting to get wet just at the thought of his body and what you wanted to do to it. What you wanted him to do to you. Sinful thoughts.
You slide your hand between your legs and feel yourself already wet and wanting. Your delicate fingers tease circles over your clit and it doesn’t take long before you get off. You feel ashamed to be lusting over an old man you barely know, but nevertheless wish it was Joel’s rough hands on you.   
You wonder if he is doing the same thing and sharing the same thoughts about you.
A few uneventful days go by and now it’s Friday. You haven’t seen much of Joel other than his truck occasionally driving off, but he had been stuck on your mind all week. Lonely nights accompanied by dirty thoughts of Joel that only fueled your yearning to get closer to him. Your inhibitions regarding age and disapproval of your parents were blinded by your building desire. It still weighed on you though. Your parents would be appalled and probably disown you if they knew. It would just be another tick on the disappointment list.   
Work is busy and the day flies by. Just a few hours to go. You are taking a break, sitting at one of the tables by the front window and snacking on a blueberry scone. You reason with yourself that tonight is as good as any to try to make something happen. 
You: You doing anything tonight?
An agonizing hour passes and no reply. Your message is on read. Marlene takes notice of your change in demeanor. When things finally slow down and its just the two of you waiting around to close up she presses you.
“So.. whats going on? You look distant.” 
“Just trying to… make friends here.” You pause. “A friend in particular.” Your voice trails off. Marlene catches on quick and she had suspected you were starting to fall for someone. 
“Anyone I know?” Marlene knows everyone. You don’t want her judgment on the matter so you keep it vague.
“My neighbor. He doesn’t seem the type to come to a place like this though.” Your phone chimes and you try to play down your excitement as you look down and see it’s from Joel. You can barely contain a smile. 
Joel: Just got done a job. No plans
Marlene searches your face and rolls her eyes.  
“Just go over then. Easy enough.” she was right. 
“Yeah, I think I will.” 
The rest of the shift goes by quickly and you are both out the door by 3 o’clock.
You sit in your car and decide to just call him already. You were craving to hear his voice again and you wanted to put him on the spot. He answers quickly.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Joel. I still owe you, you know for helping me out earlier.” Joel sighs in defeat. 
“I see you aint lettin’ that go. What did ya have in mind?” 
“Can I come over tonight? I’ll bring over drinks.” Your offer was more forward than you intended, but you went with it.
“Yeah, ok. Sounds good.” He pauses and has a counter offer for you. “Come over for dinner first?” You melt at the thought and realize you haven’t responded and there is a silence while you are getting lost in your thoughts. “Grilling steaks. Nothin’ fancy.”
“Yeah. Sounds good.” You can feel your smile spilling into the phone. That sounds more than good. It sounds really fucking good.  
“Alright. Come over ‘round 7.” 
“Ok. See you tonight.” You end the call and take a deep breath. Your heart is beating out of your chest in excitement. 
Getting ready for the night you attempted a relaxed look. You wanted to look nice, but approachable. You had some worn jeans that tucked neatly into your Bean boots. A button down flannel that you left undone over an intentionally low cut, fitted shirt. It accented your chest just right. You wore your hair down and went light on the makeup. You threw on a light leather jacket and grabbed the six pack of beer as you head across the street. 
Joel opens the door and leans in the doorframe with a casual figure, taking you in while he bites his lip,
“Evening' sweetheart” He steps back and holds the door open for you and gestures to come in. He was definitely a gentleman. You normally are not a fan of the pet names, but he worked them into his vocabulary so smoothly it was welcomed. 
You step inside and turn around, holding up the six pack of beer.
“Sam Adams. That ok?” He shuts the door and nods in approval. “Figured I’d bring some Boston culture over.” You step further inside. His kitchen is just off the main entrance and has an island with some bar stools at it. You make your way over and take a seat and rest the case on the countertop. 
Your eyes scan the room. His kitchen is tidy, save the spot where he prepped the steaks. You see an empty whiskey glass. Evidence that he had at least one stiff drink before you came over. You panic a little and regret not doing the same.  
“That where you lived before this?” He interrupts your thought as he stands across you at the island. His crossed forearms holding him up as he leans towards you with intrigue. He is dressed plainly in a pair of worn jeans and a plain navy blue t-shirt that hugs his arms just right. His biceps bulge as he is leaning forward and your mind is now preoccupied with just how broad his shoulders are. You almost forgot he asked you a question.
“Yeah, for a few years anyways.” You briefly recount, distracted when Joel takes a beer bottle from the case and effortlessly pops the cap with his large, calloused hands. A satisfying hiss escapes the bottle followed by a clink as the cap falls to the countertop. He slides it over to you and repeats the motion again for himself.
“Oh, wow.” you say out loud, without realizing it. Joel has that cocky side smirk again, well aware of his impressive party trick. He holds the bottle up and towards you and you do the same, clanking bottle necks together and taking a sip. Your eyes are locked on each other for a moment; trying to read each other's intentions.  
“Make yourself comfortable. I’m gonna put the steaks on.” he gestures his head to the back door that leads onto the deck. He grabs his suede jacket off the back of a chair and walks towards the back entrance. You trail behind and this was the first time you really noticed just how beautiful his home was. 
His open living room and kitchen had a vaulted ceiling with massive windows lining the whole back side of the cabin. It faced the lake and you could imagine how serene it would be to watch the sunrise. The cedar walls and flooring made it feel cozy and inviting. There was a large wood stove in the center of the living room and an open loft above the back of the living room. The deck seemed to wrap along a good part of the home. 
“Your home is beautiful.” It had looked so much more discrete from the road; tucked behind some pines and a long driveway. The backyard was a short distance to the lake and sloped slightly down to a dock. Joel probably had a boat parked there in the summer. The cabin was perched perfectly with a breathtaking view; isolated and private from the world.
“Thank you. I built it myself. Me and my brother Tommy.” 
“Thats… impressive.” 
“Eh, just comes with being a contractor. Made more sense to build my own place the way I wanted.” There it was again, that feeling in your core that excites you. Joel likes to be in control, and he has the skill set to back it up making it all the more alluring. 
Its a cool night, but not uncomfortably cold to be outside for a few minutes with a jacket. In fact, you are grateful to have the crisp air to help ground you and calm you down. It was embarrassing how easily Joel could work you up. You lean over the railing and gaze out over the lake while he tends to the grill for a moment and then joins you at the railing.
“I spent a few years there myself. Boston.” This was news to you, but you were still curious about his Southern accent. 
“And… before?” 
“Texas.” He takes a sip of his beer. “Most my life.” You smile and give a slight laugh. 
“Well, that certainly explains things. You don’t exactly sound like a New Englander” you tease him. Joel laughs and looks a little distant. Something you have come to realize about Joel is that he has a lot on his mind he doesn’t say out loud. His mysterious demeanor was something you found as attractive as it was frustrating. 
“You like it here so far?” He asks.
“I do. Its simple and peaceful. Life is easy here.” you realize while saying this out loud that you mean it. You really are enjoying your time in Kineo more than you ever had expected. “And… my neighbor isn’t so bad.” You tease. Joel rolls his eyes and returns to the grill, pulling the steaks off.
“Mine is a pain in the ass.” He jokes as he closes the grill. He wasn’t wrong. You were persistent if anything. 
Dinner is laid back and enjoyable. He has a small dining room table but you choose to sit next to each other at the island drinking your Sam Adams and enjoying your ribeye steaks. Joel cooked them to perfection. You stay seated long after you are done eating, getting carried away with conversation. Your bodies are facing each other and knees knocking into his as you get animated with your storytelling. 
Joel mostly listens while you ramble on. The more you drink the lower your inhibitions get. You are a lightweight to begin with and it doesn’t take much. You don’t even notice that he isn’t really listening to you anymore. His focus has left your well intended words and shifted to your body. He’s looking at your low-cut shirt teasing him. The way you brush your hair out of your face when you laugh. How your neck looks so inviting when you tilt your head back to take a sip of beer, You don’t register that he is eyeing you crudely like you are a piece of meat. That he is fighting every urge inside him to just lose himself with you. 
He inches his hand along the countertop closer to yours until he is grazing your wrist with a light touch and dragging his fingers back across yours. It sends a shiver through your body as you become aware how he is looking at you and how painfully reserved his touch is. It is polite but intrusive. He watches how it makes you feel. How you start to come undone. 
Your pent up feelings are starting to overwhelm you and you excuse yourself reluctantly. Your heart starts to race and you wonder if he can hear it beating. 
You get up and bring your plate over to the sink to wash it. It is a distraction more than anything while you gather yourself. Joel watches you from behind for a moment. You can feel his gaze burning into you and brace yourself against the counter. You like the way it feels. The way he makes you feel wanted. 
That loud silence returns. The air in the room feels heavy. He joins you at the sink and you can feel his heat envelop you as he approaches you from behind. His broad body boxes you in and makes you feel small and vulnerable. 
Joel takes his hands and dances his fingers down your arms lightly. His touch starts a fire inside you and you crave a heavier hold. You need him like you need air in your lungs. He presses a gentle kiss behind your ear and another one drags to your jawline and to the soft meat of your neck. His coarse beard scrapes against your skin and makes you shudder. You press your ass into him and feel him hard against your lower back. He responds by pressing into you firmly and brings his mouth to your ear. 
“You feel what you do to me, beautiful girl?” He asks with his low, gravely voice and presses another kiss into you. His heat is searing into you. 
He agonizingly slides his hands down to your hips and turns you to face him. He pushes your body gently against the countertop and moves one of his hands up to caress your face. He presses his hips into you and holds your chin gently between his thumb and finger. He stares down at you with a thirst in his eyes. He narrows his focus to try to get a reading on you. Your mouths are just inches apart. There is a hunger he is resisting but the wolf inside is slowly starting to win over reason. 
“I want this, Joel.” You stare up at him and make sure he can see the desire in your eyes and that you are serious. You want to remove any hesitations he has on your account. You try to rock your hips into him but he has you pinned. He can feel your needy attempt.  
“We shouldn’t…” Joel pleads, but his words are empty and not speaking the same language as his body. 
Your age, your parents, your unfamiliarity with one another all should be reason enough to quelch this flame, but it just makes you want it that much more. He has wanted you since he first laid eyes on you that morning he came to your rescue. He wants to be respectful but fails, instead teasing you with how much he wants you. The hesitance is an illusion that he has kept up until that moment. Your body is trapped against his and he is looking at you like you are prey in his clutches. You had suspected and even hoped that Joel was a dominant lover with how confident he carried himself.   
You seize the opportunity to show him just what he is doing to you. 
You push your tongue into him and taste him; sweet and malty. His warm and wet mouth is inviting and intense. All reluctancy fades away as he gives in to you and takes control with his tongue. You can feel his cock is hard and straining against his jeans as he rocks into you. Your arms hang around his neck and tangle into his hair as you grind against each other. The friction of both your bodies sending each other into a frenzy.
He drags his mouth away, biting at your lower lip as he moves along your jawline to the soft skin at your neck. You stretch your head back giving him full access to your bare neck as he nips at you hungrily. His scruffy beard rubs roughly against your supple skin and feels so good. One hand roams up your shirt while his mouth traces lower and lower down to your collarbone. He thumbs and circles over your nipple. He can feel it harden through your bra and engulfs your breast with his large hand. His touch is brazen but you welcome it. You can feel just how badly he wants to devour you and it makes you moan.   
He slides his expert hand from your breast and drags it down to your jeans. He unbuttons them hastily with force and works his hand slowly inside. Your underwear is already wet from your arousal. He pulls his mouth away from you and has a devilish grin as he grabs at your pussy and narrows his eyes on you.
“You’re so wet for me.” He says breathlessly with anticipation while he has you in his grasp. 
He slides his hand inside your waistband and teases your clit as his hand slides against you. You want to reply to him but your words are trapped beneath the moans caught in your throat. He brings a finger to your opening and slowly pushes the tip inside you. The pressure from his large, calloused fingers makes you buck into him. He rubs his thumb over your clit as he slowly teases your entrance with his finger. He takes it slow and when he thinks you are ready he slips another one inside.
You can feel your walls clench around his obscenely thick fingers and he pushes deeper. Twisting and playing at your entrance and thrusting in. Your hips writhe in his grasp. While one hand is busy with your cunt the other has an iron grip on the back of your neck. His mouth messily returns to the soft skin above your collarbone and into the crook of your neck. You are completely at his mercy and can’t imagine any other place you’d want to be. 
You are so tight but he stretches you open artfully. Moans escape your lips as you gasp when his fingers dip further into you, reaching that perfect part deep inside. 
“Come for me.” He pants into you with a snarl as you convulse on him.  
He doesn’t let up and fucks you relentlessly with his fingers until you are coming and moaning his name. Incoherent expletives escape you while you soak him.   
You ride the wave of pleasure for as long as you can. It has been too long since you had fucked around with someone. However, no one had ever so masterfully gotten you off with just their fingers. The way he handled your body and worshiped you with his mouth was intoxicating. 
As you come down from your high he slides his wet fingers from inside you and pulls his mouth away with a final ravenous kiss on your swollen lips. He places a kiss on top of your head and pulls you in close for an embrace. The hard protrusion against your body makes itself painfully known.   
Joel presses his forehead against yours as he works to unzip his jeans and free himself. His fingers are wet with your slick. He smirks at you as his hand glides over his swollen cock and rubs your wetness all over his length. His breathing shallows as he strokes himself with one hand and braces his body on the countertop with the other. His swollen head grazes your belly with each thrust into his fist. 
You watch him wantonly as he palms himself with more vigor. Joel’s cock is thick and intimidating, but you crave it in the worst way. It is by far the largest you have ever seen. It glistens in your slick and the precum that was beading at the head. A desire builds inside you and you yearn for more of Joel. Want him in your hands, your mouth, your cunt.  
“Let me, please?” your voice comes out barely above a whisper. His hand slows and comes to a stop. He stretches out his arms to hold him up against the counter as he hovers above you and lets you take over. 
You reach out and grab on to him. You marvel at its size and how weighty it feels in your hands as you start to rub them up and down. His skin is hot and velvety smooth and pulled tightly. Your pace is much slower but more precise. You feel the veins bulge under your grasp as your fingers glide up and down his length.  
A moan hitches in his throat as you rub your thumb over his sensitive tip. You do it again and again. Teasing Joel Miller feels dangerous. You can feel how ragged he is and how close he is to coming. You want to make him come undone.  
“God, damn it.” Joel grunts under his breath. He peels back your hand and painfully pulls it off of him. His cock twitches at the loss of your touch. He stands up straight and towers over you as you shrink back.  
“Get on your knees.” He commands with his hand firmly on your wrist as he pulls your face closer to his. It sends a shiver through your body and you oblige. Any warmth in his eyes has been lost and he is staring at you; dark and menacing. He throws your wrist away and grips his hand along the side of your neck. His touch is rough and urgent. His fingers snake around to the back of your neck as he pulls you closer to him while you drop down. They twist into your hair and he has a hold on the back of your head. It doesn’t hurt, but his grasp is firm and might if you tried to fight it.  
He takes his cock back in his grasp with his other hand and pumps it. His movements are jerky and his breathing is labored. You can tell he is so close. He roughly pulls your head back by your hair to look up at him.
“You gonna’ finish what you started?” he asks with darkened eyes. “Then open up.” He commands you through clenched teeth. 
You respond with an uncontainable smirk. You part your mouth slowly and let your tongue hang out, never taking your eyes off his. You sit back onto your knees so that you are slightly under him and wait patiently. He widens his stance. His hand slides to the top of your head and tangles in your hair. You can feel him slowly starting to lose control and come undone before you while he strokes himself. You brace yourself, hooking your fingers into the back of his thighs and clawing at his jeans. You can smell his sex and feel his heat but he holds you just out of reach and makes you wait while your thirst grows. 
Finally he taps the head of his weighty cock against your tongue and you lick at his slit, sending him over the edge. He groans as his thick spend coats your tongue and drips messily onto your chin. You close your mouth around him as he begins to stall out and swallow, pulling the final drops of cum from him while you choke his cock with your mouth. 
“Good girl.” He rasps at you. “So fucking good.” His grip on you loosens and he tenderly drags his hand along your jawline. You relax your mouth and let him slide himself out. He groans when your tongue licks the underside of him as he pulls out. 
He thumbs over some of his mess that falls out of your mouth and curls his thumb over your bottom lip. You lick him clean and he moves to hold your face in his hands while you look up at him.
“My good girl.” His words shoot straight to your core and make you weak. He brushes your hair behind your ear and helps you up. He places another kiss on your head and wraps his arms around you. His hot and heavy body feels so good against yours. You tilt your head up and press your mouth into him one more time.
“Are we even now?” you joke. Joel smiles. Everything about him feels warmer. He peels himself away from you and steps back, leaning against the island. You adjust your clothes and zip yourself back up while he does the same.
“Actually… think I might owe you now.” Joel says with a playful tone. He crosses his arms in front of his chest and shakes his head at you like he can’t believe his predicament. You like the idea of Joel owing you. 
You don’t spend the night. He offers to walk you home but you opt to go alone. It felt good to get some fresh air, to clear your head and recap the night. You also wanted to leave him wanting more.
You weren’t sure what would come from this situation with Joel, but you knew you barely scratched the surface with him. He was rough around the edges but you liked that about him. You liked that a lot. 
END CHAPTER
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A/N: More to come! Undecided how many chapters but I have quite a bit mapped out. Please be kind. This is my first fic and it is nerve wrecking to post! If you loved it, PLEASE let me know. I'd love to know your thoughts so far! What did you like? What do you want more of? How much angst can your heart take? I aim to test it in future chapters. Comments/Reblogs are appreciated so much. Thank you all
Also special thanks to @magpiepills for the lovely cover photo (and her mood board inspirations she helped with along the way!) and to both her and @legendary-pink-dot for reading my first draft and giving their feedback AND courage to post this.
If you wish to know when I post the next chapter, please follow @ArcaneFoxFics and turn on notifications!
If you are here for my gifs only and are like WTF I dont want to see this mature content... you can follow me over at @ArcaneFoxGifs which will ONLY be reposts of my gif sets.
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Love to my friends who give me the courage and support to do all the things @magpiepillsjunior @legendary-pink-dot @exquisiteserotonin @youandmeand5bucks @redhotkitchen @sparklefarts38 @pink-whiskey-woman @for-a-longlongtime @secretelephanttattoo
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legendary-pink-dot · 2 months
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Jumping in to the lovely ending to this story. I'm so invested in these 2 characters (3 if you count Dieter's short spiky curls). It's been a ride, and congrats Jess on your completed series! 💜
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Working Title | Chapter 21: The End
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Pairing: Dieter Bravo x OFC Belle
Series Rating: Mature, 18+
Word Count: 4.3k
Series Masterlist | AO3 Chapter 21
Chapter Summary: We conclude our story.
Chapter Warnings: Angst and fluff. This one is pretty tame.
A/N: And just like that, we've reached the final chapter of this story. I'll share more at the end but I just have to say thank you. Thank you for being here and reading along. Dieter and Belle have been with me for the last seven months. When I started, I didn't think I'd write a 21-chapter fic topping nearly 120k words as my first foray into fanfic writing but here we are. I always had a version of this ending planned but actually getting to this point was harder than I thought.
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Because of the secrecy surrounding the movie and its casting, you had to surrender your phones at the front desk when you arrived. That was almost three hours ago, three hours where you’ve been effectively off the grid, ushered around to meet with various departments in person and via Zoom.
Meet and greet after meet and greet, trying to retain the names of people who probably quickly forgot yours. Despite feeling like all eyes were scrutinizing your every move, it felt like things were going well. Talking about your craft was where you shined and it was a very welcome distraction. Everyone seemed impressed with your portfolio, several acknowledging the fact that Meredith had nothing but glowing things to say about you and your work. 
You hadn’t seen or heard from Indy since she got whisked away for her rounds of screen tests and meetings. Rhys popped into the waiting room to tell you Indy was moving over to costuming for a fitting, which you took as a very positive sign that things were going well for her. Unfortunately, you were still unable to get your phone back. You sat with your fingernails digging into the meat of your thigh to try and stop your leg from bouncing while your mind drifted to Dieter. By this point in the day, he had probably woken up with Liz filling him in on the welcome you received at the airport and the subsequent online chatter. 
“Oh hey,” you heard a familiar voice, but couldn’t place it. When you looked up you saw Rob, the photographer from Dieter’s photoshoot who gave you the ick.
“Oh hey,” you responded with a tight smile, reaching for the nearest magazine. 
“You’re making quite the splash online,” he waggled his eyebrows, sitting down with his arm resting behind you on the couch.
“Can’t see. Don’t have my phone.” Your lips twitched as you shifted to move away from him.
“Ah…right. Made you lock it up?” He cocked his head to the side as you nodded. “Well, nothing bad. I mean…people are kinda being assholes but you know…it’s the internet.”
“Ha yeah.” You swallowed hard, trying to figure out an excuse to get up and leave.
“Talked with Dee? He must be a mess.”
You furrowed your brows, “why’d you say that?”
“Dee gets really protective about people he ah…cares for…” he gave you a quick up and down. “Must be tearing him up to see people talking shit about you. He doesn’t really do well with that kinda stuff.”
“What do you mean?” You tried to steady your breathing as your heart pounded.
“Well, it’s the reason he doesn’t really “do” relationships…things always end up getting messy with someone like Dee.”
This smarmy asshole was really starting to test your nerves, especially since he was supposed to be a “friend” of Dieter's. Fed up with his innuendos you looked him squarely in the eyes. “If you have something to say, say it.”
He chuckled a bit, seemingly amused by your sudden protective streak. “Look you seem like a nice girl…but Dieter’s past…it may be too mu-”
“Hey!” Rhys stepped in, cutting Rob off and regarding him with a disgusted look. “B, Indy’s all done you can come with me.”
Rhys hadn’t even gotten it all out before you bolted up from the couch, grabbed your bag, and scurried over to him. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, leading you out while looking back at Rob.
“Sorry about that…that guy’s a real piece of work.” He squeezed your shoulder. “You doin’ ok hon?”
You took a deep breath and wrapped your arm around his waist as you both walked. “I’m ok, this has all been a lot,” you laughed nervously.
“I know. You’re handling it great, sweetheart, he’ll be so proud of you.” He looked down and smiled as he led you into another room.
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“You heard from Belle?” Meredith asked as she touched up Dieter’s spiky but soft curls between takes. “Dee?”
Dieter was spaced out, the lack of sleep catching up to him. “Hmm? Oh, ah no. Not yet. But they should be wrapping up, their flight leaves soon,” he checked his phone.
“Well, I’m sure things are going well. If you haven’t heard from them it means they’re still in meetings and didn’t get turned away huh?” She squeezed his shoulder which brought the smallest glimmer of a smile to his tired face. “I like seeing you smile Dee, it’s a good look on you. And you’ve been doing it a lot more on this shoot,” she smoothed the sleeve of his white dress shirt. “You two are just what the other needs.”
Dieter gave a lopsided grin, taking a deep breath to center himself for the next take.
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Indy practically tackled you when you walked into her holding room, throwing her arms around you and squeezing you tight. “We got it, B! We did it!”
To say you felt proud would be severely underselling it. All of those nights Indy cried on your shoulder when she didn’t get a part or wasn’t able to cover rent, it all brought you both to this moment. It hadn't quite hit you that you were also getting a tremendous opportunity as well.
“I’m so proud of my girls,” Rhys came over, enveloping you both in a bear hug. Even he was getting misty-eyed seeing your reactions. “Look all of this took a bit longer than planned…which is a good thing, don’t get me wrong! So, we’re gonna have to rush to get back to the airport ok? On the way, though I need you both to focus, we have to make some arrangements to get things in motion before we get on the plane.”
“I cannot wait to tell everyone!” Indy squeaked. 
“Ah...look, you can’t say anything yet, ok? The studio is going to announce it in a few hours, so by the time we land you can go crazy and tell everyone but for right now, please don’t say anything?” He looked between you both as you reluctantly nodded in agreement. 
“Can we get our phones back?” You asked as Indy rushed to collect her things.
“Yup…yeah, they have them, we’ll grab them. C’mon, we have to go! We’re going to be cutting it close.” Rhys ushered you both quickly out of the room and down the hall.
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“Ok and cut! We’ll wrap for lunch. Good work everybody.” 
The director barely had the words out before Dieter made a beeline to his trailer, frustrated by his performance. Being in front of the camera, getting to portray a different person, was normally so freeing for him; it gave him a chance to escape his world and tuck into an alternate reality. But this morning, he didn’t want to be another person. He wanted another person. And not hearing from Belle was starting to take its toll on his nerves and it was spilling over into his work. He'd forgotten lines and just couldn't convey his character like he wanted…too much of Dieter was bleeding through the performance.
“Hey Dee, wait up man!” Sam jogged after him, unbuckling the tac vest he donned in the last scene. 
Dieter slowed down slightly, looking over his shoulder as Sam caught up to him. “You haven’t heard anything have you?” He motioned down to Sam’s phone with his chin.
“Nah, nothing. But…that’s a good sign though right? I mean…that they’re still in meetings or whatever?”
“Yeah,” the corner of Dieter’s mouth curled up as he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, but his face dropped when he saw it was Liz. “Hey, Lizzie.”
“Dee, hey. Rhys just texted and said they’re headed back to the airport. Are you around anyone right now?”
“Uh um...” he cleared his throat, “yeah.”
“Ok, well don’t react, but…between us, they got it.”
Dieter stopped in his tracks, feeling his chest contract. “Oh…ah…ok,” he swallowed despite feeling like his throat was suddenly full of cotton balls. “I mean. Good, that’s good. I should probably try and call …um…her…then,” he tried to avoid Sam’s hopeful eyes.
“She probably won’t answer. They’re all on a conference call in the car sorting things out with people there and in Toronto. I know you’ll hear from her though. Give her a moment to process. It’s a big deal for both of them.”
“Yeah ok. I’ll um… I’ll talk to you later Liz. Thanks for the call.” He hung up and walked to his trailer, not bothering to look back at Sam. 
Sam hesitated for a moment but decided to jog after Dieter, stopping him just as he got to his trailer. “Is everything ok? Did they not get it?” Sam’s piercing blue eyes searched Dieter’s face. 
“You know I can’t tell you,” he shook his head. “We'll find out soon though.” And with that, he walked up the steps and slammed his trailer door shut.
In the confines of his trailer, Dieter let out a shaky breath. Things were starting to get more real now and the girls’ departure was imminent. He knew there were still a ton of details to sort out, especially on a production on the scale of the one they booked. It was a task to try and silence his thoughts and not get ahead of things, but a little voice poked through questioning the radio silence from Belle. He figured she’d at least send him some type of text, even if it was cryptic. 
Walking over to the sink, his mind raced through a bunch of scenarios for why she did or didn’t reach out to him yet. He splashed some water on his face, the droplets falling into the sink as he braced himself with both hands and looked at himself in the tiny mirror.
We doing this Bravo?
What lay ahead was not going to be easy — long distance and time zones until he was able to get out to Toronto. And then what? Was renting a house too much? Too bold? Too clingy? He’d always been told he did too much, loved too hard, and it never worked out for him in the end. That little voice was telling him to stop while he was ahead, avoid the inevitable heartbreak. He always did this, retreating or finding a way to silence his feelings.
But in this case, a life where he goes back to LA alone felt empty, unfulfilled. This decision was solidified weeks ago and he didn’t even realize it. He was fully onboard and it wasn’t until she was gone that he realized how much of an impact she’d made. Waking up without her, smelling her shampoo on the pillow, seeing her empty station as Meredith got him ready – she was always there and would continue to be.
He heard his phone buzzing, sighing when he saw Liz’s name on the screen instead of the one he yearned for.
“What?”
“Hello sunshine,” she responded flatly. “Listen, that house you sent over. They want an offer today otherwise it’s going back on the market. What do you want to do?”
Dieter took a deep breath and looked at himself in the mirror.
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The drive to the airport was full of phone calls as Rhys sorted out the logistics for getting Indy wrapped up on the show and off to Toronto. You called Meredith and confidentially filled her in on the news so you two could start to plan the transition. Before you knew it, the SUV pulled up to departures. 
Once through security, you had to make a mad dash to the plane, still talking to Meredith and now Brianna. During the call, you glanced at your phone to see if you’d gotten a text or call from Dieter. The longer you’d gone without hearing from him the more the anxiety churned in your stomach wondering if he’d heard the news and how he had taken it. 
As you boarded the plane, you hung up with Meredith and tried unsuccessfully to call Dieter. It went to voicemail twice. Sighing you sat in your seat, head in your hands as you took a deep breath.
“Hey,” Indy put her arm around your shoulder. “Wanna talk about it?”
You shook your head, composing yourself before peeking over to her, “I haven’t heard from Dieter.”
Indy’s mouth twitched and she looked down, a telltale sign that she had something to say but was trying to figure out how best to address it.
“What is it? Spit it out.” Your voice barely a whisper.
“It’s just…Sam said that when they wrapped for lunch Dieter got a call and then stormed off to his trailer. No one has been able to talk to him since,” she looked across the row at Rhys who was juggling his phone, laptop, and tablet. “Hey, you know anything about Dieter? I'm assuming Liz is in the loop?”
“Hmm?” Rhys tucked the laptop into the seat back in front of him. “Oh ah…yeah Liz knows, I told her because she’s been lighting my ass up about an update. She said Dieter was losing his mind wanting to know. Apparently, he's been a pretty grumpy asshole on set today.” 
You weren’t quite sure how to read Rhys’ tone and you feared the worst. 
“Try him again,” Indy nudged your shoulder. “Quick before they yell at us to put our phones away.”
The flight attendants made an announcement but you tried again, getting his voicemail one more time. Frustrated, you decided to fire off a text before turning your phone to airplane mode. You leaned your head against Indy’s shoulder as you both sat quietly for a moment. She eventually reached for her backpack, pulling out her wireless earbuds and handing you one. 
You laughed and she furrowed her eyebrows. “Sorry, it’s just that Dee hates these wireless ones. Ugh…” you shook your head. “He’s everywhere. What if we get there and he decides this isn’t worth it anymore? Like let's stop before this gets more serious.” The tears that had been teetering on the brink finally started falling down your cheeks as the stress of the day manifested itself.
“I still have a good feeling…you’ll see,” she hugged you as you softly cried into her shoulder. “Shh… it’s ok. Hey. Wanna watch a movie? I have Jurassic Park on my iPad.” She waggled her eyebrows.
That mention drove you to even more tears, remembering the perfect date Dieter organized for you. It made you miss him even more, craving for another moment to comb your fingers through his curls, to scratch the stubble on his cheeks, to feel his lips on your neck, and his weight on top of you. It was going to be a long flight, but you tried to stay positive.
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“Psst, hey, time to wake up,” Indy cooed, rubbing your arm.
Your eyes fluttered open as you tried to place where you were. “How long was I asleep?” 
“You zonked out after the chaos theory speech,” she smirked. 
“Damn,” you sat up and stretched. 
“We should be landing soon, I filled out your ag declaration form by the way.”
“Thanks. Did you sleep?”
“A little, I’m honestly on a bit of a high, it’s been hard to calm down,” she softly chuckled. 
“I’m so fucking excited for you. You’re going to kick ass.”
“You know what the best part is? You’re going with me…we get to do this together,” she patted your knee as a flight attendant made one last pass through the cabin. 
“Well, he’s out cold isn’t he,” you nodded towards Rhys who was fast asleep with his mouth open.
Indy giggled, “You should have heard him snoring.”
On the descent, you chatted about random things, clear that Indy was trying to keep your spirits up. You reached down to your bag and grabbed your phone, itching for the moment you could turn it back on, hoping you had enough battery left. 
“You think we’re going to have people waiting for us at the airport?” You raised your eyebrows.
“Nah, people here are so chill,” Indy chuckled. “Nice thing about the small airport, we’ll be out and to the car in like five minutes…I cannot wait to sleep in my comfy bed tonight. These airplane seats are the worst.”
“Tell me about it,” you rubbed your neck. “You ah…going to be sleeping alone tonight,” you smirked.
“Not if I can help it,” she winked as you both burst into quiet giggles.
You glanced down at your phone, curious what would be waiting for you when you turned it on. 
“Hey, it’s going to be ok,” she smiled.
Within a few moments, you saw the island quickly come into view, with the wheels touching down shortly after. You switched on your phone, tapping your fingertips along your thigh as you waited for it to connect to the network. 
Notifications started coming through and you held your breath. Texts from Meredith, Brianna, Ari…even Sam came in as the news about Indy’s casting finally hit. 
Sam: Hey Doll. Heard the news, congratulations! I’m so happy for you
You smiled at his text, looking over at Indy who was grinning ear to ear with her face buried in her phone. 
Once the flurry of notifications calmed down, you sifted through things, clearing out the unimportant stuff. There was one name you hadn’t seen yet. You swallowed hard, trying to nudge that lump in your throat further down to no avail. The little voice you’d pushed into the recesses of your mind was bolder now, telling you that Dieter decided this was all too much. It was inevitable, all too good to be true.
A smaller airport meant less time taxing to your gate and before long you were walking off the plane, carry-on in hand and a phone buzzing with notifications you didn’t want to see. You couldn’t bring yourself to open up your text thread with him, afraid that seeing your message marked as read with no response would push you to your breaking point. 
As you walked out of the sliding doors to arrivals you heard Indy gasp. You looked up and stopped in your tracks with a stunned silence. Dieter was standing tall among the crowd, eyes searching wildly at everyone passing by. He didn’t see you which gave you a second to take him in. A slate gray T-shirt stretched taut across his broad shoulders. His eyes looked tired behind his black-rimmed glasses as he ran a hand through his wild curls before rubbing the back of his neck.
A break in the crowd revealed the rest of him – a smart pair of white shorts with striped crew socks paired with sneakers completed his outfit. But what made the air leave your lungs was the beautiful bouquet he nervously passed between his hands. You’d recognize this arrangement from anywhere - it was the same assortment he had delivered to the makeup trailer when production first started: Birds of Paradise, anthurium, hibiscus, and gardenias. 
The butterflies in your stomach felt like they were going to explode out of your body. Suddenly, the stress and anxiety of the last day were gone. Time stopped, everything was still and you couldn’t hear or see anything else but Dieter. Finally, he noticed you, his eyes crinkling as he sported the biggest smile. You could practically see the stress and worry melt away from him.
You didn’t run to him like the long-lost lovers do in the movies, but you certainly walked briskly. He did the same, dodging the wayward oblivious tourists in his path. Soon you felt his strong arms wrap you in a warm embrace and you finally exhaled, like really exhaled, relaxing as you nuzzled into him. Ear pressed to his chest you could feel his heart racing so you squeezed him tight, letting him know it was ok.
You pulled back and looked at his puppy dog eyes, which looked equal parts nervous, scared, and relieved. “Hey.”
“Hey, I…I…these are for you,” he offered the flowers. 
“They’re beautiful Dieter. Thank you,” you closed your eyes, savoring the delicious floral aroma of the arrangement. 
Your eyes fluttered open to see Dieter studying your face like he was trying to commit you to memory, which made your stomach drop a bit.
“I hadn’t heard from you…I…did you hear the news?” Your voice was shaky, nervous that it had all come to this. He nodded, rubbing up and down your arm. “All of it?”
He smiled, “Yeah, all of it. I…I hadn’t heard from you, and I…” he rubbed the back of his neck, shaking his head. “Fuck, I…can I kiss you?”
Rather than respond with words, you pushed up onto the balls of your feet, cupping the back of his head and pressing your lips to his. He brought a hand to your waist and gripped you tightly, pulling you flush against his body. A slight moan escaped as he deepened the kiss.
You pulled away to catch your breath, feeling him smile against your forehead. “When you didn't respond to my text, I…”
“Wait, what?” He scrunched his face. “You didn’t text me. I…I just have the missed calls, which I’m sorry I missed I…” he looked down as you grabbed your phone from your back pocket and unlocked it. “What?”
“It…it never sent, look,” you turned the screen around to show an undelivered message in your text thread, something you would have seen had you looked.
He shook his head, chuckling. “I thought you …”
“Shh…hey,” you smiled, feeling the scratch of his stubble against the pad of your thumb. “You're here now, that's all that matters.”
“I could say the same thing,” he brought you in for another hug. “This last day has sucked without you,” he murmured against your hairline.
“It really has…I missed you.”
“You don’t even know the half of it, baby.” His large hands cupped your face, his thumbs moving back and forth on your cheeks. “I um…I got you something,” he reached into his pocket and your breath caught in your throat as he gave you a little black box.
“W-what? I…” you swallowed hard, confused at the item in his hand. 
“If I had more time, I was planning on doing this differently but uh,” he motioned down to the box in your shaky palm. “Open it.”
You swallowed, your heart pounding so hard in your ears you could barely think. As you flipped the lid open you let out a laugh. “What is this?” You pulled out a small piece of paper. As you unfolded it you saw it was a drawing of a key.
“I’m renting a house in Toronto for the next few months and…I ah, I wondered if you may want to stay with me? I just signed the papers a couple of hours ago so I obviously don’t have a key to give you, hell I don’t have a key for myself yet,” he chuckled. “So I…um…I drew this, figured if I couldn’t give you the real thing yet this may be a good substitute,” his face scrunched as he wiped a tear from your cheek. “Are you ok?”
You nodded, placing your hand on top of his and kissing his palm. “Yeah...I never thought I’d cry at a drawing of a key but here we are.”
He swallowed hard, bringing his forehead to yours, rubbing the back of your neck. “Is…is that a yes?”
You nodded, pushing yourself back so you could look him in the eyes. “It’s a fuck yes,” you smirked. Giddy, he wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you so tight. “Wait…how’d you just rent a house with like hours' notice?”
His demeanor shifted a bit, the swagger of the Dieter Bravo shining through as he looked at you, still caressing your cheek. “Well, I’ve been kinda looking around at places, and then today when Liz told me the news. I knew I needed to make a decision. And that decision is you. Us. I can’t be away from you….I don’t want to be away from you and I don’t have to be.”
“I … I can’t believe you did that,” you kissed him, parting your lips and feeling his tongue against yours. It was intoxicating. 
“Believe it,” he smiled against your lips. “I’d do anything…everything for you. Always.”
“Ooookay love birds. TSA is gonna kick us out here soon. We’re starting to draw a crowd,” Indy whispered.
You buried your head in Dieter’s chest as you all laughed. 
“So, I’ll leave you two then, see you back at the resort,” Indy started to back away with a smirk. 
“Actually wait,” Dieter stopped her. “Um…can I ride back with you guys? I…uh…kinda don’t have a ride,” he ruffled his hair.
“How’d you get here?”
“I had Danny drop me off. Can’t draw and drive at the same time…”
You cut him off and kissed him again as Indy giggled at the sight of you two so in love. Eventually, you pulled back and looked at Dieter with a twinkle in your eyes. “C’mon let’s go. We have a movie to watch.” 
With a lopsided grin, he grabbed your carry-on and threaded his fingers through your hand as you followed Indy and Rhys to the waiting SUV. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and before you reached the car he leaned down and whispered in your ear, “Just so you know, I want to do a lot more than just watch a movie.”
The End.
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A/N: Hi, me again. I have a lot of emotions as I post this final chapter. Whether you've been here since the beginning (and dealt with my inconsistent posting in real-time, sorry about that!) or you just found this story and made it through, thank you. Every comment, reblog, like, ask, or DM has truly meant more than you know. I have learned so much over the last seven months writing this and I met so many amazing people I've grown to call friends. 💕
This ending is intentionally left a bit open and it isn't the last you'll see of these two. I'm not exactly sure yet how they'll come back (whether it's through one shots, drabbles, or a *much shorter* series), but this isn't a goodbye forever. I'm planning on doing a behind-the-scenes type post soon to talk through some of the references in the story, show off some of my own Hawaii photos, and talk through plot points from my original outline that never made it in. But until then, thanks for being here and helping me send these two off into the Hawaiian sunset.
Tag list: @musings-of-a-rose / @legendary-pink-dot / @bitchwitch1981 / @mysterious-moonstruck-musings / @gracie7209 / @amneris21 / @pastelnap / @maryfanson / @sunnywithachanceofjavi / @sin-djarin / @winchestergypsy90 / @for-a-longlongtime /@harriedandharassed / @titlee78 / @midnightraain / @poodlebae / @partyofone3413 / @guelyury / @weho2kcmo / @missladym1981 / @soapjay / @darkheartgatita
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legendary-pink-dot · 2 months
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Ahhhhh thank you so much, very very glad you enjoyed this! 😘😘😘
To Be Explored Later
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Pairing: Francisco "Catfish" Morales x Santiago "Pope" Garcia x female reader
Rating: Explicit (18+)
Warnings: Swearing, dirty talk, rough-ish sex, hair pulling, oral sex (m receiving), a couple of spanks, edging if you squint, also yearning m/m if you squint, unprotected PIV, snowballing, threesome, dom!Santi.
WC: 1.7K
Notes: Not beta'ed, sorry. First time publishing. PWP, this was just not the time for a setup or plot. Rest assured that boundaries were talked about and consent freely given by all parties before any action happens, even though that discussion isn't included in the story. We love a Consent King here. Hope you enjoy, and thank you to my dear cheerleaders and fellow Pedro Pascal sluts @basicoccult @sweettoothsugarfix @lifewithoutcosette 🥰
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Getting railed from behind by Santiago as you sucked his best friend and teammate’s cock? Not where you thought you’d be on a Friday night, especially not when they’re about to leave for a mission. What a sweet goodbye present you were being given.
What had started as an exploratory licking of Frankie’s cock had devolved, expanded, evolved into a full-on face fucking. Delicious but fast and deep, much too deep. You pull your mouth off him, gasping for air, and he whines. Fucking whines. A battle-hardened Delta Force pilot whose calm never breaks, even when crashing a helicopter, and you made him whimper like a kitten begging for milk. This is the kind of power you crave, and Santi knows exactly how to give it to you.
Santi doesn’t stop his thrusts. He snakes an arm under yours to crush his full weight against you, shoving you into the mattress and taking what little bit of breath you’d managed to suck in. "What’s the matter, hermosa? Been begging me for weeks to let you suck Fish’s cock.” He bites the sweet swan curve of your neck.
You glance up with the one eye not completely smushed into the pillow and see Frankie leaning back against the headboard, breath heaving, watching you with a hungry stare that doesn’t waver an inch. The intensity would scare you if you didn’t know how much of a softie he actually was. Too kind for this cruel world, and all that.
“So desperate for it that I finally caved and said okay. Now you’re gonna show some gratitude and fucking take it, cariño,” Santi rasps, punctuating with sweet hot thrusts into your cunt that’s somehow still getting even wetter. “Fucking. All. Of. It.”
Frankie smirks lecherously and swipes his thumb slowly over his bottom lip, eyes still fixed on yours, in promise you hope.
One extra deep stab of Santi’s cock inside you to make you cry out before he sits back and pulls you up to sit in his lap, crooking a finger at Frankie in invitation. No second invitation needed.
Frankie moves back to you, his hard cock swinging. You know he wants to slap it against your face, bob it on your tongue. Feed it to you while he holds your jaw open with a firm hand. Or maybe that’s only what you want. His eyes still fixed on you so solidly that you wonder if he’s even blinked once since this started. 
“Be a good girl for him,” Santi hums, gently swiping your hair out of your face and into a loose bunch. “I’ll help you. Here.”
He fists your bunched hair and pulls your head back, hard. Straight rail line of nerves travelling from your scalp to your cunt, and he knows every stop on the route. Santi’s calloused hand spans the entire back of your skull and settles fingers into the grooves as he pushes your head forward, forcing your mouth to slide down Frankie’s cock, inch by torturously slow inch. Frankie hisses, cool droplets of spit raining on your forehead, soothing the fire.
True to his word, Santi doesn’t stop until you’ve taken all of it, right down to the base until you’re almost choking. “That’s it. Look how pretty. Doesn’t her mouth feel sweet, Fish? Fucking told you it would.”
Frankie groans loudly and stills himself, dangerously close, wrapping a hand around Santiago’s to keep your head right where it is. Santi stops moving inside you and you feel their fingers intertwine in your hair. Strangely sweet, probably an unconscious gesture. Something worth exploring. Later.
Frankie’s other hand snakes around Santi’s bicep for balance as he lets Santi pull your head back, all the way off until only the tip is left resting on your tongue. It’s delicious and just when you think you finally have a moment to appreciate it, Santi shoves your head down roughly again and quickly back up, forcibly driving your mouth up and down Frankie’s length, setting a brutal pace. “Yeah, that’s it,” he croons. “Fuck. Swallow it. Take it. Take him.”
You cry out. Or it would have been a cry, if your mouth hadn’t been stuffed so full of cock. Tears start to form in your eyes, you gag, but you keep going, because Santi told you to and he wants you to. You want to. And you’ll take Frankie any way you can get him. Santi has never entertained the possibility of sharing you, ever. This is special.
A hard smack on your ass brings you back. Santi starts driving back into you, in and out, wrecking your cunt from behind, one hand still gripping your skull and the other now around the front of your neck, one finger stroking under your jaw as Frankie holds him up and braces him with all his strength.
“I can feel him fucking your throat, cariño,” Santi gasps. “He’s so fucking big. You’re such a good girl, such a good filthy fucking sweet girl, taking him like this.” You squeal around Frankie’s cock at the praise and he twitches in your mouth with a loud groan. Oh, you are a good girl. So good. You know it.
“Who do you want to come in you first, Fish or me? Nod once for him, twice for me."
Santi shifts his angle to hit that sweetest of spots inside you and you don’t know, don’t care, can’t move, just don’t stop. Sliding into that blissed-out zone where time stands still, where you lose all connection with everyone and everything. Haze and stars.
Smack. “Answer me when I’m fucking you. Him or me?”
Strong fingers press bruises into your shoulder and you don’t know whose they are, don’t care, give me all the bruises please, mark me as a reminder of you for when you’re gone. You’re so close to coming that you almost bite down on Frankie’s cock. That just makes him moan lounder, thrust harder, you feel the heat of his stare on your face even if you can’t see it. You nod once.
Frankie finally pipes up, breathless and heaving. You like how he only speaks when he has something to say. “Both. She wants both, don’t you, honey?” Is this the way he talks during a mission, voice so deep and intentional? Shit. Gimme more of that. Your shaking legs and throbbing clit can wait.
You pull your mouth off him with a wet, pornographically loud slurp and meet his whining stare. Fuck that intense gaze, going straight to your cunt like that, especially when it’s on fire. Special indeed.
“I’m not sure,” you murmur shyly in your most fake innocent-virgin voice as Santi grinds to a halt inside you with a yelp and a squeeze. You know he hates edging himself, he’s not a man of great patience. “That sounds a little… dirty. How do you two know when the other is about to come?”
Frankie’s eyes dart for a second towards Santi and back to you, flecks of panicked black pepper in a chocolate gaze. Gotcha. They’ve definitely done stuff before. Another thing for the Explore Later file, yes please, fuck yes if I ever get this chance again.
Santi’s breath is warm against your neck. "Don’t worry about that, hermosa. Worry about me being fucking jealous of how desperate you are for our guest. I’ll make you pay for it tomorrow.”
You wriggle your ass against his crotch and wink at Frankie, who still stares at you, the tip of his cock painted bemused scarlet and resting a millimeter from your swollen mouth. “Oh no,” you whine in the highest fakery, licking your lips and holding his gaze. Eye fucking never looked so good. Bad pun.
Rough hands on your hips, hitching you up into position. “Maleducado. I told you to show some fucking gratitude. Be nice or I won’t let you come tonight.” Empty promises. Santi’s already reaching for your clit. “We’re gonna fill you up now. Eyes on him." They already are.
Santi slams back inside you, lurching you forward, and you swallow Frankie’s cock in one gulp. Both slides sweet as honey, both men slotting home, perfect match. No more words.
Frankie has no sentences now. No intention, only sound that makes perfect sense and none. Eyes still on you.
Santi’s hand is doing its work on your clit and nerves start to fire in your core, burst on your tongue, the roof of your mouth, even down to the roots of your teeth and melting into your bones. Santi always knows. "That's it, I've got you. We've got you. You’ve been so good to us, you deserve this, come for us, cariño." Good words, breathlessly spoken just for you, or maybe for all of you.
You come first. Your moans vibrate around the velvet hardness of Frankie’s cock and he’s next to shatter, his voice deeper than you’ve ever heard it, some kind of neediness mixed with liquid heat splashing on your tastebuds and slipping down your throat. You reserve some, keep it close, willing it to rest in the mouth that you no longer have control over, as he holds himself in you as long as he can.
It all tips Santiago over the edge as he gushes more praise for you, his good girl, his good fucking girl, and you take it, all of it, like he said you would.
You twist your head around to give Santi a kiss. He also deserves a goodbye present. You swallow his moans as you feed him Frankie’s come, still hot and thick in your mouth, letting him suck it off your tongue until he’s full and sated.
He reaches out a tired arm and pulls Frankie towards him, giving him a taste of himself, being sure to let you watch how their stubbly faces scratch against each other as their tongues whirl and slide. Frankie doesn’t seem surprised at this, at all, and you watch his throat bob as he swallows what’s left. His eyes aren’t on you anymore. They’re on Santi’s.
You have so many notes now for your Explore Later file. Just come back from the mission please, boys.
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legendary-pink-dot · 2 months
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I can barely get past the first gif because of that goddamn single eyebrow raise. He knows exactly what it does to people.
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Ok but the first one... I can't do this anymore. It isn't humane. I'm sorry. Please forgive <3
CONGRATULATIONS, PEDRO!
Pedro after his much deserved SAG Award! Part 1/?
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Love to my ladies that keep me going @magpiepills @redhotkitchen @sparklefarts38 @exquisiteserotonin @pink-whiskey-woman @youandmeand5bucks @legendary-pink-dot @for-a-longlongtime @secretelephanttattoo
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legendary-pink-dot · 2 months
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Pros of being a Fandom Old: - never have to worry about my mom finding out about my porn fic - have seen it all before and give few if any fucks
Cons of being a Fandom Old: - forced to work at actual job instead of writing fic all day - have seen it all before and get regular “ugh not again” moments
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legendary-pink-dot · 2 months
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@tinytinymenace
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Much love to all the fellow Olds in this fandom who share their talents and appreciation for Pedro through writing, giffing, artwork or just plain showing up to support others and uplift like the cool aunties they are.
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❤️
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