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harryleatherfit · 1 year ago

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Upper East Side: AU: Frankie Morales

Chapter 6: The Box

word count: 6600

warning: MATURE, dni if not 18+, smut, fingering, oral f! receiving, over stimulation, sex club, heavy petting 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 probably more so let me know if anything is missing

this is not revised or looked over (sorry) and kinda my first time writing smut… so… but i tried 🫶

🪩Main Master List🪩 Series Master List🪩

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Frankie POV

The professors decided to stay late for the last day of auditions, finalizing the cast list that would be put up the next day.

It was difficult for them to pick the roles, so many talented students and to only give 15 characters. They all had to weigh the highs and lows. They couldn’t give the role to the obvious person, they had to think of who would take it seriously for a college broadway production.

The 2 Macbeths would be the face of Broadway, and they would have to be able to keep up with the early stardom. These 2 would have to keep up with their studies but put the production as their number one priority. They couldn’t think of seniority but pure talent before their eyes.

Papers were spread over conference tables, coffee was brought on the dot every hour, videotaped monologues were rerun a thousand times. Balls of paper were thrown all over the floor.

“Ok team, it’s nearing midnight what are we thinking about the Macbeths?” Ms. Roylance asks.

There were a few groans from around the room, everyone has been casted except for the duo.

“Starting with Macbeth,” She writes on a board.

“I feel Davis had emotion in his stance, his reactions to what Lady M would say were on the dot, but I feel like something was missing.” Benny says.

“Yeah he’s a great choice, but I feel like he wouldn't be Broadway ready, I mean every magazine will write about this play, so we do have to pick the best we have.” Fish chimes in.

“Ok Davis, ⅔ points.” Ms. Roylance writes on the board.

“What about Mattias, that boy is a star.” Ironhead says. “He has the passion, he has the pretty boy look, he can act.”

“And he’s got the body, he's a good dancer!” Cheot adds.

“I mean Roylance, he’s our Macbeth. He can work with anyone, he’s calm and controlled and his monologue hits every spot we’re looking for. All you have to do is say yes.” Ironhead twirls his fingers together in excitement.

“Ok fine, Mattias is our star.” She puts his name in red on the board, it’s final. “And for our lovely ladies, Lady Mac, there's quite a handful. There's McKayla, Kelsey, Sarah, Emma, our North Carolina transfer, Nina-”

Fish heard Pope bring up you and he immediately felt engaged in the conversation again.

“About Nina, ma’am.” Pope interrupts. “I didn’t think to say anything about it now since it was before her audition, but I was walking up to the theater doors to go to the bathroom and I overheard Nina talking to our new student… and it wasn’t the most humane conversation.” He sank into his chair.

Fish felt the heat in his face rise, the room felt insufferable. He wanted to claw away from his chair and find you, but he couldn’t.

“Why didn’t you tell me immediately?” Ms. Roylance asks.

“I didn’t think of it much because this is always how Nina has been since her freshman year, her dad paying her way through this school and scaring away fresh talent because, honestly we let her but this time she crossed a line. She was calling her names, saying she needed plastic surgery, and that she would get her kicked out if she got the part over Nina.”

That’s funny, that bitch genuinely looks like a catfish with all that plastic in her face, worse than a kardashian- Frankie thought to himself.

“But the worst part was she didn’t even respond, she just stood there in front of Nina taking everything in. She looked petrified and I’m glad I intervened when I did. Personally I think she shouldn’t even be offered another role again for the rest of her senior year, but I understand with her father, the legality of that would be extremely tough.”

She didn’t speak up to Nina? Why not?

Fish felt his heart drop. Nina had the audacity to belittle you? Nina thinks she can use her dad and his power to hurt you, replace you?

He would do anything in his power, in his position and with his connections to get that girl kicked the fuck out. He didn’t care, he would use his power in this damned school and city to make sure she suffered for what she did to you.

“Pope why didn’t you say anything, man?” Benny says.

“I really didn’t think anything of it and I remembered, I’m sorry but to what I heard I think it’s serious. What does everyone else think?”

Fish rattles up his hoarse voice, “We kick the girl out for all I care, I can deal with her dad. We should’ve kicked her out since day one and taken our chances.”

Roylance and Cheot give him a look, they both know they couldn’t have done that.

“I say we give the roll to our new girl.” Redfly speaks up. “Listen, we wouldn’t have to kick Nina out because we know the hellhole her dad would put NYU through, but I mean that scream c’mon, the tears, her performance. The message she gave to us. She’s a talented performer and we all know this from last spring. We saw a new Hollywood star on some random stage. So we give it to her solely because she has proved herself that she has what it takes.” He goes on. “Roylance we know Mattias will work well with her, they already have stage chemistry, this will work.”

“And Nina couldn’t even cry, she was shaking violently like a little dog. Do we collectively want to give this role to that?” Ironhead asks.

“I agree with you, we are giving her the role, but how do we ease the cast list? What is our game plan for Nina’s dad? How will we protect our new Hollywood? We’re aware of what Nina can do and what her father can hide.”

“You can make sure Nina will never talk to her in your classes, for sure as hell I will make sure in my voice class Nina will not lay her eyes on her.” Benny states.

“And for sure as hell I’ll tell her friend Laylah, who is our Head of Makeup, to keep an eye on her and be with her 24/7.” Redfly puts. “And Cheot can ask Laylah how she is in her dance classes.”

I know for damn fucking sure that evil little bitch will not go near my girl.

Roylance moves her head side to side thinking, “Okay with our work as human beings, and as teachers..” She circles your name on the board next to Mattias’s,”We have the house of Macbeth then!”

The teachers get up from their seats and claps are heard all around the room.

--------------

“Wake up!” Laylah is shaking you awake. “Wake up! The cast list is out. It’s on the school bulletin board, we need to hurry!’

“Oh jesus.” Laylah, Rose and Hannah all get their shoes on and you don’t even bother, grabbing the nearest pair of slides.

Laylah is near hauling you across the campus, you need fucking coffee.

In the distance you see a horde of people crowded around the arts bulletin board. It's a cold Saturday morning and it's too early to even care what you look like.

As you get closer your heart starts to race again, but with excitement. No matter what you’ll be happy with the results.

You can see all the arts professors standing in a line not far from the crowd but just observing. Most likely there to condole people or to answer questions about rehearsals.

He wasn’t there.

Everyone around the paper is now starting to open an entrance, just staring at you. What for?

You read the tiny little script, Mattias is Macbeth and you look one level down…

“OH MY GOD, YOU FUCKING GOD LADY MAC I KNEW YOU WOULD.” Laylah screams.

Hannah, Rose and Laylah all bombard you with a group hug and you don’t even know what to say. You give your thank yous, and everyone around you congratulates you.

“I don’t even believe it, I can’t believe I have a lead here.” You exclaim.

Your heart fills with a swarm of liquid joy, even in the cold you feel like the sun. You immediately feel every worry go away in your body, you’re happy. You can pocket this moment forever.

You immediately think of the rehearsals, the makeup and costumes. Getting to perform on broadway. Your face on a New York CIty billboard. Every moment in your life has built up for this, and you stop to really think about everything you have done to get you here.

You think of Frankie and how he even helped you with your monologue. He taught you to not hold back for anything.

And instantaneously, you feel hands shove you to the side. It’s Nina.

The group of people move behind her as she looks at the bulletin board. She didn’t even make it. Not as an ensemble member, a small featured character. Nothing.

She shrieks and stomps and immediately turns to you. Behind her, you see a guy behind her trying to console her, probably her rich boyfriend that couldn’t give a shit less if she got in or not. He’s probably with her for her father.

“I will fucking end-” She starts to yell in front of everyone.

“Sorry to interrupt but can I steal her for a second?” Ms. Roylance asks.

Thank god. You could not have another episode of Nina telling you how horrible you are. You couldn’t take it.

“No problem, Ms. Roylance take your sweet time, I’m gonna wait here with my boyfriend over there after you talk with her, if I may talk to you afterward?” She asks in a sweet slithering tone. She’s a fucking snake.

“Actually Nina, if we could, can we talk in class on Monday? I have a lot of planning to do this weekend for the rest of this semester. It'll be a lengthy meeting with all the arts teachers, as I hope you will understand the time constraint we are all under.” Roylance responds.

“Of course ma’am have a great weekend.” She walks away haltered and distraught. You felt like at that moment Nina would have done anything in her power to hurt you. You couldn’t have been more grateful for the teachers being there.

You walk with Ms. Roylance and to the professor circle near the arts hallway and they all congratulate you.

“How do you feel?” Mr. Miller asks.

“Shocked I guess? I can’t describe this feeling. I have absolutely no words.” You put your hands over your heart, “This is truly the best welcoming present I could’ve asked for.” Now you feel like you can fully express your win on getting Lady Macbeth.

“I genuinely don’t understand how this is even possible, and Mattias getting Macbeth feels perfect, but I can’t thank you enough, I don’t know how you can see me being on broadway in just some short months but-”

“No buts.” Mr Garcia smiles, “You are Lady Macbeth because you’re spectacular. You captured us in your audition, and we all know you have what it takes to be Lady Macbeth.”

“Picking Lady Macbeth was obvious, from the moment you stepped on that stage, we knew it would be you. You’re meticulous about your acting, and this is what the world needs to see. You’re a perfectionist and you won’t take anything less as an answer. You are the definition of Broadway ready.” Mr. Davis says.

You felt sick with the praises, you couldn’t stop smiling and putting your hands to your face. You could hear your friends in the distance giggling as they’re waiting for you- agreeing with the teachers.

“It wasn’t obvious it must have been so hard with all this talent here, I’m nervous for everything, I’m scared I won’t be as good as you all put me out to be.” You shy away from their eye contact.

“We know you’re good, trust me.” Ms.Cheot pipes up, “Even though you don’t dance, I saw some stuff of yours, and I only know the spring musical is waiting to have your name all over it.”

“But he really should've been here to tell you himself, but Mr. Morales really dug out for you. He said he saw you practice your monologue before your audition and said you improved when you didn’t have to. He kept going on about how he hasn’t seen your kind of talent in years. So purely we all agree you are one of a kind and you deserve this. Soak it in for today.” Mr. Miller 2.0 says.

And once again, he did something for you. You had chills on your arms just from that sentence alone. He has full control over you.

You laugh, “I promise I will soak it all in. If I may ask, when do rehearsals start?”

“Unfortunately we need to do a table read tomorrow at 10am, I’ll post the rehearsal calendar tonight for everyone. We’ll all be there to help work with everyone along with stage chemistry, but it won’t be too hard.”

Would you get to see Frankie?

“Thank you, I’ll see you all tomorrow. ” You start to walk off back to your friends, and Ms. Roylance grabs your shoulder, “I played Lady Macbeth when I was younger and I see you in me. You have this thing, I can’t explain it now but someday I will. Go home and sleep and come tomorrow with a fresh mind. And don’t pay any attention to that Nina girl, I’ll make sure she doesn’t bother you for the rest of this year.”

You smile at her and thank her all over again, appreciative of her actions with Nina.

You meet up with your friends again and they bombard you with questions as you walk back to your dorm.

------

“Ok so in celebration of our win tonight what do you think we should do tonight?” Rose asks.

“We could go to a nice restaurant, maybe a club?” Hannah replies.

“We could do a library and some coffee and come back here to watch movies, if anyone wants a mellow night.” Rose says.

“I don’t want a mellow night, I want a night to remember.” You unconsciously say, you did have your first rehearsal tomorrow, but nothing you can’t sober enough for. You’ve got your natural remedy for a mad hangover, it’s what a college student does.

“Oh my god, we have to check out The Box then!” Hannah rejoices.

“What's the box?” You and Laylah both ask.

“Calm your tits for this one, you're in for a wild ride,” Hannah gets up, “It's this super exclusive club, you can go there with a reservation or in the hope that they’ll just let you in but here’s the catch, it’s sex burlesque club. It’s fucking crazy and really damn expensive.”

“If it’s expensive, then we shouldn’t go.” You say.

“No, I’ll just use the credit card my dad gave me for college, I never use it so tonight we will treat ourselves.” Hannah insists. Oh yeah just your sweet daddies credit card for a sex club okay. “But be prepared, there's sometimes like orgies on stage.”

“Orgys on stage?” Laylah questions.

“I know it may sound weird but it’s a once in a lifetime experience. It’s an all exclusive club and so many celebrities go their for a night away and theres crazy fucking shit that happens there. People pee on eachother, people fuck eachother, you see people doing coke, people take acid, you see attendees strip, you sing and dance your face off, you go to the bathroom and fuck someone you see really hot. I once went in my freshman year here with a fake ID and on the stage these girls were like, making eachother squirt. It was the craziest fucking thing I saw with my eyes. I promise it’ll be a night we all will never forget.”

“I mean it’s the box guys, everyone has to go at least once before they leave New York, and we’ll get you home before you need to go to your rehearsal.” Rose prods at you.

This was your chance to take the night off, to be free. Fuck it.

“Oh fuck yeah we’re going.” You plead. You’re night, so make it yours.

“YES THAT’S MY GIRL.” Hannah hugs you, “ A warning though we all need to dress really nice but semi-slutty. The bouncers let you in on your vibe and your party size, luckily they let in parties of 4 often and we have the money and real ID’s to show. Plus we’re all pretty fucking hot.”

The perfect dress you own for this night, a sheer shimmer slip on dress that only covers your nipples and a slit of fabric to cover your pussy. For a burlesque show you’re going match that fucking vibe. Underneath you put on a set of lingerie that would keep any odors from lingering but was still covered in crystals and made your whole body shine.

You felt like a performer yourself, who fucking knows. Maybe you would be on that damn stage tonight. You needed to feel something after Frankie.

You hadn’t thought about him all day. You were going to see him tomorrow, but things would be awkward again, and when were you going to be alone again with him. In the off chance to ask him what that almost kiss was? Not to gain anything for yourself, but to just have an explanation.

Tonight would be your fill in from him.

“Hey you want to smoke before? Just to heighten the experience? You don’t have to though.” Laylah asks.

You turn to her, “Fuck you look amazing Lay, I mean breathtaking.” She was wearing a mesh golden short dress, and she had the same idea of you wearing lingerie underneath, showing off all your tattoos. “Pack the fucking bowl at this point, it’ll send me somewhere else this night that I want to relive forever.”

--------------

You get to the front of the line before the club with you, and notice how funny the bouncer looks. He’s trying to look scary to the common public, but to you he looks like a little fluffy unicorn.

He takes one look at you and your friends asks for ID and to look at a credit card. Hannah pulls it out and you drum roll in your head.

“Alright I suppose.” He says.

You kiss the big baldy unicorn and wish him the best night. You walk through the entrance and feel this storm of a new identity tacking onto you.

This is my night.

A hostess finds you and seats you in a private corner on the top floor near the stage, the ceilings are so high and the intimate room is illuminated in such a warm tone, you feel like you could pass out you're so happy.

“I have to hand you guys these stickers for your phone camera. We don’t allow any photography. If a staff member sees you taking a picture or taking off your sticker, we have to escort you out.” The hostess explains.

“So this is the nightclub where the celebs unleash their inner dirty?” What you asked felt so childish but it was a funny question, and you could barely think you were so high.

The hostess laughs and just walks away with your credit card.

“Girls were in for a long night.” Laylah roars out.

The music was already loud, a plate of dick shaped chocolate strawberries were ordered, and rounds of shots were taken. You didn’t take any, being crossed was not the night you wanted before your first rehearsal. A ginger ale would do just fine.

The middle of the bottom floor becomes a place for people to mosh as the music plays and you immediately feel drawn. Dancing is what your body craves. You head down the stairs and Laylah follows you.

A singer comes out onto the stage along with dancers, they are all barely dressed but their makeup is flawless. They are all spitting images of Roman gods. You couldn’t look away.

“Hi everyone I’m Eartheater and tonight we have a special song for you tonight.” She herself looked like Bella Hadid but on steroids. Her body was carved with the hands of the sun. “This is a shiny crowd tonight I see.” She says looking down at you and your friends. You cheer her on.

Every corner of the club was full. Everywhere you looked someone was moaning, people were touching each other, kissing. You weren’t bothered, people were giving affection to one another and it made you happy. If you were sober maybe it would’ve grossed you out but you looked up and saw 4 naked bodies, 2 hanging on the railing for dear life, oragasming the night away. You laughed so loud people smiled at you. The whole room felt like it was slow motion.

-----play Solid Liquid Gas, by Eartheater

“This song I actually thought of in this very room, and listening to it high makes my body tingle, so I hope you share that same experience with me tonight.”

She starts singing and immediately you’re taken away. This song alone could make you orgasm. It was sparkles speaking in your head and the base was felt in the core of your body. You were moving around in the crowd along Laylah, feeling the sweat accumulate all over you.

Your smile couldnt go away and your body rolled with the beat drops. Music high, makes your body go to outer space.

The dancers were all over and the room was so dimly lit, Eartheater dropped into the crowd and pulled you two up, “Give the crowd a show, pretty girls.” She smiled.

So you both continued to dance together, with the singer and the dancers. Never stopping, embracing the sensuality of the room, realizing this is a once in a lifetime experience. You could hear Rose and Hannah cheering for you both so loud.

Nobody knew you in this room, there were no phones. The disconnect turns you on, but you scan the crowd and see a group of men in the back, one that looks familiar to your heart.

It’s fucking Frankie.

He’s looking at you, taking a sip of his beer. He’s never seen you like this. He was with his friends that were also your teachers, but you didn't care. You couldn’t give less of a fuck if they all saw you at this club right now. Tomorrow you would most likey hate yourself for your fuck it mindset, but you could deny that was you on the stage.

Frankie was practically fucking you with his eyes, and you almost lost it. Right then and there if he walked up to the stage and fucked the life out of you, you wouldn’t have cared. No matter how high or not, you wanted him, you desired his touch. You would give this whole room a show if that meant you could be with him.

Your nipples hardened as he swept down your body. His expression turned into that downturned smile of his. He knew he was fucking with you. Laylah kept dancing around you, spraying a bottle of wine all over the stage and dancers. The room was moving at two frames per second but you told Laylah you were going to go to the bathroom.

“You’re sure I don’t need to come?”

“I’m sure, I just really need to piss.” You yell over the music.

You walk off the stage and keep your eyes on him, you just smile and look down. You wanted him to follow you, but would he take the ruse? Would he take that risk for you?

You get inside the bathroom and it's a bigger single stall and every wall is a mirror. You were surprised it was clean for a sex club. You check yourself in the mirror, all your makeup was off and your lingerie was still intact with your sheer dress. You felt lucky your makeup was sweat off and not smudged.

The door opens. You don’t look to the side of the mirror, and he’s standing in the doorway.

“That door opening is music to my ears.” You turn to him, “What are you doing at a sex club?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” He’s wearing all leather and his usual trucker hat, his strong arms showing in his jacket. That itself makes your knees go weak.

His hair is ruffled as always and his scruff makes him look so hot. His presence made the tension rise. His rich husky scent was going to send you over board.

“I thought I was so high I was imagining you.” You laugh.

“You’re high?” He moves closer to you.

He’s so much taller than you, you feel so small compared to him.

“Sorta, I wanted to take my mind off of everything.” You admit turning back around. He was the reason.

“You can tell me to leave, if you want.” He stops mid room, in his husky tone.

“Stay, please. I want you with me.”

You wanted him with you all the time, and this was the first time you were going to be honest.

He gets closer to you and you analyze his face, his wrinkles, his dimples, his nose. Everything about him turned you on. You were both different people tonight.

You brought your hand to hold his face and you smiled.

He leans his forehead on yours, and you both breathe heavily looking at each other, his nose touching yours. He brought his hands to your face and you closed your eyes. You felt so safe right now.

His expression softened due to your touch.

“You always have this stagnant expression on your face for everyone, but when I’m with you, you immediately change-”

He closed the gap between you both so fast, you thought his lips on yours were fake. Everything was so heighted right now. His lips were so soft on yours and. It felt like an orange sunset. You both melded against each other. You couldn’t breathe, he was all over you. You braced your hands on the sink.

He gasps for air, “You’re so fucking beautiful pretty girl, I’ve wanted to kiss you since day one.”

That makes you whine. “And if you make that sound again it’s gonna make me do things I want to save for when we're actually alone.”

“So then fucking do them, use me. I don’t care.”

He slides his tongue across his teeth and shakes his head, “I could never use you, sweetheart. I don’t fuck the first night, let alone the first date which I havent been given the privledge to ask for.” He pauses to kiss you again, “In due time my needy pretty girl.” He puts a piece of hair behind your ear.

You were his pretty girl. If you weren’t already melting into his body, your brain felt like mashed potatoes, you couldn't think of one thing to say.

“Wrap your legs around me.” He orders. As you do he hoists you on the bathroom sink, standing in between your legs. He runs his hands up and down your overlay dress, moving closer and closer to your nipples, making you lean against the mirror. Whimpering when he finally touches the lightly covered skin. The weight of his fingers makes you shudder.

“When I saw you walking into the club, I almost lost my shit. I wanted to walk up to you, but I saw your friends and didn’t know what to do. And then I look up at the stage 10 minutes later and there's this beautiful girl lady dancing with a bunch of naked people and I couldn’t control myself following her into the bathroom.” He pinches the fabric over your nipple and you wince with a smile.

“You dirty perv, I could scream right now.” You warn.

“The only screaming you make right won’t be quite from that.” And he immediately dips down and latches onto your throat.

He groans into you, and you bring your hands to his unruly hair. You close your eyes and moan as he hits the spot. All your dreams are coming true right now.

“Are you giving me hickies Mr. Morales?” You ask.

He looks up to you and takes your lips again. His tongue on your felt like the world was right. No matter how wrong this could have looked to the common public, you felt like the world's happiest person right now, “Maybe.”

“I bet you liked that. Me calling you Mr. and I bet you loved Sir, huh?

“Don’t be a tease, you’ll fucking kill me.”

“Then give me more.” You taunt.

He was a rabid beast, his hands were moving lower and lower down your back, and your legs were moving wider and wider, inviting him in. You were wiggling against him, trying to feel any sense of relief. If he took one swipe to your clit, you’d explode.

“Do you want to be touched tonight, pretty girl?” He asks.

You’re so drunk on him you can barely answer, “Give me your words or I’ll just keep kissing you and keep my hands off.”

“Give me a second to conjure up a sentence around you, fuck.” You slur out. Being high and him being between your legs almost made you ascend right there. “Let me touch you first, please.” You plead trying to get off the counter.

“Oh no no, sweetheart. Tonight is about you, we can explore more another night.” He places his hand over your pussy and your jaw drops open. The weight of his hand alone was too much. He pushes harder, “Now use those words of yours and tell me what to do to you.”

“Frankie please make me cum, please. I’ll be so good, I’ll do anything to earn it.” You plead.

“You’re being a good girl by using your words, that’s all I needed to know.” He immediately pushes your mesh dress up to your hips on the sink, and places his hands back to the fabric of your silver underwear. Slowly pulling the fabric to the side.

Normally you would be scared for this to happen, you were so self conscious about what men would think about what you looked like down there, how you womenscaped and you hadn’t shaved in a few weeks. But nonetheless, your body was care-free.

He took in his breath, “Look at this beautiful pussy, how wet you are for me. Were you this wet for me when you saw me up on that stage the first time.” He asks in a low baritone. His voice drop gave you a hint he liked what he saw.

“I’m always wet when I see you, you should know that by now.” You were, he constantly turned you on.

“I do know now, you’re a fucking mess for me. You’re dripping all over the sink.” He fingers crowd at your entrance, collecting the liquid. The air of the bathroom meeting center made you shiver. He looks down at where his hand meets your cunt and brings his fingers to his mouth.

Time feels so slow you don’t even know what to think, this is the most erotic thing that has ever happened to you.

He licks his fingers clean of your juices and all you could do is stare at him in shock. Your consciousness kicks in and you’re scared he might think you taste gross.

He finishes and places his fingers against your opening again, rubbing your clit softly. Slightly opening his mouth to yours in a soft gaze, “Your pussy- is dangerously sweet. If we were not in public, I’d be eating you out for hours. So we need to be careful. ” He kisses you again, rubbing circles on your clit, changing direction and speed, he knew he was driving you bat shit. “I can feel your clit fluttering, that perfect little bud begging for relief, huh?”

You shake your head.

“Good, now faster.” He frantically pushes his fingers inside you. You’re moaning louder than you thought you could ever sing. His thick fingers feel like heaven.

“Fuck, Frankie.. You’re gonna make me cum, fuck fuckfufufuck.” He’s moving at a prompt speed, stretching you out, not pausing once. You hold your back up against the mirror and move your hands to his hand that is holding his weight on your stomach.

“Yeah that’s it. Hold onto me, hold me as I finger fuck you. You’re doing so good, sweet girl.” His words make your walls tighten around his fingers. The squelching of your pussy and your moans fill his head. He was looking at you the entire time, your face contorting because you couldn’t handle the pleasure.

You look into his eyes and he meets yours, his pupils almost fully dilated. He’s so focused on moving his fingers inside you, you can’t help but screech when your orgasm builds up.

“Oh my god, frankie.” You catch your breath, “It feels so good, I’m so close.”

He makes you release your hold on him and he moves his other hand to your clit and traces his thumb over your pussy, The stimulation giving you a final send off. He grunts and pushes his fingers inside you faster.

“Cmon now sweetheart, make that perfect pussy cum all over my fingers, give me more to suck off. Soak me.” He commands.

The bubble inside you pops and his fingers continuously hit the perfect spot inside your pussy, “Shit shit shit, Frankie, I’m cumming, Im cumming.” You scream for the whole club to hear. Your legs start to close together, you need the pressure to withstand that much force goring through your body.

“Look at you, you’re so pretty when you cum. So fucking perfect.”

Both of you catch your breath and feel the aftershocks of your orgasm when his fingers slide out of you.

He drops to his knees, his head right in front of your sopping cunt.

“You’re gonna learn that I always get my fill. As long as I’m on my knees, these legs will stay fucking open for me.” He utters.

After your little recovery he dips his head to your cunt and latches on, sucking the life out of your pussy. Moving his tongue from your clit, diving into your hole.

“That’s it, taking it so well for me, who’s my beautiful girl? ” He gasps up, “I would die for this pussy. So warm and tight.” He zips down again and his new pace makes your eyes cross.

You looked ahead in the mirror and looked at Frankies figure, in full leather, you were barely wearing anything, and his head bopping to fulfill the pleasure of your pussy made you whimper like a maniac. His hands against your inner thighs felt too natural. His skin against yours was so radiant, you couldn’t wait to have your time with him.

He takes one of his hands off your thigh and shifts it to your chest, going up your dress and through your bra. He manages to squeeze your tit. His large hand holding your body made your hands latch into his hair and push his head closer to your pussy. His large nose going into your dripping hole was killing you.

“Frankie I’ve never come like that before, that was life changing.” You admit, arching your back.

He looks up, “Then watch this.” He takes his hand on your chest and shoves it back into your sopping cunt. He’s sucking your clit and fucking you with his digits. He already knew your body so well, you couldn't comprehend how he knew how to undo you completely.

His fingers were reaching your g-spot a million miles an hour, finding the curve of your vagina so naturally. His lips felt like a magnet to your clit.

No person has ever done this to you before, so passionately and so vulgarly. It was all so overpowering, your stomach started to convulse, “Frankie, I can’t do it, I can’t. It’s too much. I'm gonna come again.” You mewl.

“Please baby, come for me. I need you to come for me, I know it’s a lot but you can do it.”

And that, you see pure white. Your mouth stays open and you feel his eyes on you again but you couldn’t bother looking at him. It felt like your two souls were being bound together. Something was tying you to him as you finished.You saw what he did to your body. You had just met him only weeks ago, and he was with you here. Now.

Your heart was breaking and repairing all over again. The orgasms were fucking with your head and body, and you thought you saw the universe. Being high and having an orgasm was another check off of the list.

He was your sun right now, he was all you needed.

You ran your hand over your heart to calm yourself.

“Baby, come back to me.” He pulls you out.

He’s whipping you down with a watered paper towel, cleaning your underwear as best he can and putting your dress back in place. You are in awe at how beautiful he is. You couldn't believe he was doing this for you.

“Guess what.” He asks.

“What?” You laugh. Of course he would ask a question after you took the life out of you.

“Well good and bad news. Good, ’m addicted to you, have been since day one. You’re beautiful inside and out. Bad, I will never get enough of you.” He states unapologetically.

That makes your heart drop.

“No man has ever said that to me.” You look down.

“I don’t know how. You’re perfect and I’ll say it a million times over for you to believe it. I would have fucking sit on my face for hours, just so I can inhale you and make cum over and over again.” He grabs your ass, “Those sounds you make, are my music and I would listen to that for the rest of my life.” He helps you off the sink, “ And I could imagine the sounds you’d make once we finally fuck.”

That made you groan.

He whispers in your ear, “We have a lot to do together angel. And I hope you know part of that will involve your pussy squirting.”

That made your stomach drop to your feet. All he does is keep fucking with your heart. You bring your fingers to your lips reminiscing the feeling of his lips on yours. Already missing him and his touch.

“Cmon baby, let’s walk out together and dance. We can just blend in the crowd and live through the night together. Then you can go back to your friends and we can see each other again tomorrow, yeah?”

You nod, and leave the bathroom with him. Part of you is still there. Wishing for your privacy again, but still excited for the awaited future together.

—-

previous || next

Authors Note: writing Santiago dialogue is so much fun. I can imagine oscar isaac just being the sweetest and calming to the reader LIKE CMON. but uh, yeah kinda first time writing smut SO PLEASEEE don’t be mean. But if this was good also lmk. I planned more of the story!! I want like 20-30ish chapters.

comment your thoughts ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

this is the song at the club and it’s fucking amazing.

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604to647 · 8 months ago

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Ok… I definitely shouldn’t be cracking any more eggs/thinking up WIP ideas but…

Soulmates AU with Marcus Moreno, but where a powered person’s soulmate neutralizes their powers 🫣

GIF by @tankredbarton

#nope not doing it #too many wips #but for real soulmate aus are my fave #Marcus moreno #marcus moreno fanfiction #Marcus moreno fic #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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tanzthompson · 1 year ago

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Well this is awesome!

Death and an Angel Masterpost

Death and an Angel (Din Djarin x Female Reader) Index

A fic about Din as Death who asks You, a Cupid, to help him find his soulmate. A mixture of Mandalorian canon and my own immortal AU. I hope you enjoy the journey 💖

Warnings are listed for each chapter when you click on link, but please note smut does not exist in this story at any point.

Photo credit: @yoursisanemptyhope 🥰

Part 1 - 1,100. Death requests your presence at a train station.

Part 2 - 1,000. Din describes his potential soulmate to you.

Part 3 - 1,500. Din and you discuss what it means to be Death and a Cupid.

Part 4 - 3,300. Din and you learn the universe is full of surprises.

Part 5 - 2,075. One of your bosses threatens to split you and Din apart.

Part 6 - 2,114. You open up about your past to Din.

Part 7 - 2,297. You experience a flashback before waking up in an unfamiliar home.

Part 8 - 2,002. You bond with Kuiil while waiting for Din’s return.

Part 9 - 2,976. A promise is made before you leave to face your superiors.

Part 10 - 3,978. Neither you nor Din handle your capture well.

Part 11 - 3,511. Still imprisoned, you send a message to Din.

Part 12 - 4,704. You struggle to figure out Gideon’s goal.

Part 13 - 5,958. Ahsoka takes Din on a journey through the past.

Part 14 - 6,139. Escaping Gideon’s lair is no easy task.

Part 14.5 - 3,701. Din faces off against Gideon. And his own darkness.

Part 15 - 3,430. Your soul connects with Din’s in an unexpected way.

Part 16 - 3,321. You challenge Gideon to a fight, determined to be the victor.

Part 17 - 2,604. In which there are two special reunions.

Part 18 - 2,957. You and Ahsoka discuss past, current, and future events.

Part 19 - 980. Endings are hard.

Part 20 - Epilogue.

Fanart For Series: #1, #2, #3, #4, #5

My Edits: #1

#Mandalorian #Din Djarin #din x you #din x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin soulmate #soulmate au #my fic #my writing #mandalorian fanfic #din djarin fanfiction #death and an angel #immortal au #fic masterpost #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedrostories

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wardenparker · 4 months ago

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Bones Full of Words, ch 1

Javier Peña x plus size reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

“He pleaded so much that he lost his voice. His bones began to fill with words.” ― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

Javier Peña had no way of knowing for certain the American journalist he sometimes sees sniffing around the embassy for her stories is also getting information about the narcos from the same girls that he is. After Helena is brutalized by sicarios, it is that same journalist who comes to take her away and look after her -- giving Javi reason to pause and reconsider his opinion of the woman he had previously not considered as anything more than eye candy.

He has no idea that once she has walked fully into his life, he will be battling with himself over whether or not he should stop her from walking out it of again.

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 8.8k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: sex work, time period appropriate sexism, alcohol, food/eating, talk of weight or size, fatphobia (sometimes internalized and sometimes not)* Nudity, body positivity, talk of oral sex, discussion of/evidence of abuse from a sexual partner, physical abuse of sex workers, groping, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex. Summary: Two Americans are both regular customers of the local brothels in Bogotá, which is a tie that will bring their fates together in ways they could never expect. Notes: For this series, please note that reader is American and speaks fluent Spanish! There is no indication of how she knows the language, whether or not it relates to her background, or anything specific like that. In order to make the story flow as best as humanly possible, it is written entirely in English (the writers' first language) but most of the time the characters are speaking in Spanish with each other. That is simply the nature of the beast with this exciting story to come, and we hope you enjoy!

Bogotá, Colombia 1987

Prostitution is the oldest profession in the world. Removed from the skills that took the cavemen beyond the hunter/gatherer roles that had prevailed during the ends of the last Ice Age and had allowed less nomadic lifestyles. Farming and growing crops had become possible and their limited technology had slowly advanced from rocks and sticks to weapons and electricity. Still, selling sex was the same. Except instead of food or hides in exchange for a warm cunt, it was cash and sometimes information.

Who knows if things are any more or less complicated now than they used to be. Or if things haven't basically stayed the same on an emotional level as the whole world has changed around its oldest profession. Whether the women and men who make their hard-earned living providing pleasure, solace, and distraction even waste their time thinking about how things used to be. It isn't what you talk about with them, anyway. Coming to Medellín's brothels isn't something you do for philosophy or soul searching. You, like so many other customers, are here because you need something. And, like so many others, it seems like the thing you came for is not what the workers here know you actually need. Coming to these women for information had turned into some very real friendships over the course of the few months you have been in Colombia, though that was never your intention for coming to see Freckles and Vanessa in the beginning.

Vanessa stands in front of the mirror, her back to you, long black hair cascading down her back to her bare ass. Plumping her lips, she reapplies the dark pink lipstick that compliments her tawny skin. Dark eyes flickering over to you as you lay in the bed, just as naked. She smirks slightly and goes back to her task. “You never try out any of the men here.” She observes. “Why?”

"Women are better at eating pussy," you reply through a haze of smoke, enjoying the ritual of a post-orgasm cigarette. It's a pithy reply, but telling her the truth feels too vulnerable. Or maybe it's too vulnerable and too dirty. It's probably both.

She snorts. “Then you haven’t met the right kind of men.” She turns around, her nudity something that she’s completely unashamed of, especially with someone that she had just fucked. “One of my favorite pussy eaters will be here later.”

"I hope I'm on that list, too." The grin you flash her is playful, not serious in the least, although you do hope she doesn't dread seeing you come through the door as a customer. Just because you like to chat afterward and have occasionally spent time together outside of these walls doesn't mean you're at the top of her client list.

“Favorite male pussy eater.” She clarifies, walking over to you and leaning down to press her newly colored lips to yours and steal a puff of your cigarette. “Surprisingly attentive. But you are my favorite customer overall.”

"You flatter me." Careful not to smudge her lipstick, you shift slightly on the bed to offer her a place to lounge if she wants to. Vanessa is one of the only people you don't mind laying around entirely naked with – she's been upfront with you about her love of plump women and made you feel very beautiful along with it.

She lays down and passes the filtered Marlboro back to you. It’s nice to have the American cigarettes when you are here. She sighs softly. “La Quica was here a few days ago.” She tells you quietly, her fingers finding the meat of your thigh and she caresses it gently.

"In a mood, or feeling cocky?" You ask, running the fingers of your free hand through her hair. She likes the soothing motion and it helps you think. Whenever La Quica comes by he either crows like a cartoon bird or he broods and ends up scaring the shit out of some of the girls.

“Freckles is…recovering.” She admits, her jaw tense and teeth clenched together. “Which is going to put Javier in a mood when he finds out.”

"Javier's your other pussy eater?" The gentle question comes with filing away the information that you should go and check on Freckles before you leave today.

She hums in agreement and sighs, flipping onto her side and watching her fingers as they move over your skin. “He’s another American. DEA.”

The way you have to put decided effort into not tensing or physically reacting to this information in any way leaves your blood feeling like ice. While you might not spend the majority of your day-to-day at the American Embassy, you surely spend enough time there gathering quotes and following leads to know who Javier the American DEA agent is. Swallowing down the information and filing it away for later, you stub out the butt of your cigarette and bend your leg to give Vanessa something to lean against. "Oh yeah? Another American?" You force some amusement into your voice and smirk at her teasingly. "I think you might have a type, Nessa."

“You pay more.” She teases back, smirking as she slides her hand up to cup your cunt. “Of course I like Americans.”

"Clever," you tease, rolling your eyes at her like she's told a joke instead of making an incredibly practical decision.

Laughing, her hand drifts up to your breast. “Don’t be offended.” She huffs. “I like you a lot more than most of the people who pay for my time.”

"I'm not offended," you tell her honestly. "It's good decision making if nothing else." The threat of an incoming casual acquaintance does make you think twice about hanging around though, and you glance at your watch on the nightstand before leaning over to kiss her again. "You're more than just my favorite fuck, Nessa," you assure her with a wink. "You're also my friend, and I'm not going to begrudge you the chance to make as much money as you can off whoever walks through that door."

She can tell you are ready to get dressed. There’s an impatience to most Americans when they are restless. An undercurrent to their tone, even in Spanish. You and Javier are very much alike in that way, which is ironic.

Sitting up, you pause for a moment before leaning back again to look her in the eyes. “Is Freckles okay? Really?” La Quica can be…well, violent is being generous. And the sicarios tend to view working girls as punching bags as much as anything else.

“She will be.” Vanessa promises, sitting up and climbing off the bed again. “Helena is looking after her. The girls are all pitching in to pay for anything she needs.”

That makes you frown, and you reach for your purse. Pulling out double the money you would usually pay and handing it to Vanessa, you shake your head when she sighs softly in reticence. "Take it," you insist, still holding out the bills. "The least I can do is contribute to the funds."

“You don’t need to do that.” She reluctantly takes it after you refuse to take half of it back. “I’ll give it to Freckles.” She promises.

“If I knew a doctor or a nurse I could trust, I’d bring them in and foot the bill myself.” Not having that resource when they clearly need it needles at you, but there is quite nothing you can do about it in this moment. “If she ends up needing more, or needing a doctor, will you promise to tell me?” Even if Vanessa promises there is only a fifty or so percent chance she’ll actually do it, but your concern stands.

“I will.” Vanessa sighs as she puts the cash away in a drawer. It’s dangerous to leave money out when another client could come in. Especially American dollars. “We took her to the clinic the nuns run. They need nurses but it was better than no one.”

“Good.” You’re swift to dress — a basic personal uniform of panties, bra, jeans, and a blouse never needing much fuss. It does get you a few odd looks when you go around the embassy in denim but to most of the employees there you’re that journalist already anyway. “Is it okay if I come around again in a few days to check on my favorite girls?” If La Quica got physical there was a reason for his anger. Some of the other girls might be next, and if that happens you want to know.

“You never need to ask if you can come by.” Vanessa turns and sends you a sultry smirk and a wink. Even though the sex is nothing more than a business transaction, she enjoys spending time with you. Plus there were interesting conversations with the girls about the two Americans that visit this brothel.

"I don't want you guys to start dreading my appearance." It's easy to brush it off with a wink and a smile. You both do it. Freckles does it. Helena does it. You've met a million men in your life who do it. A wink and a smile lets everything slide off your back – until the middle of the night when every awful though comes back to haunt you. But for now you grab your purse and lean over to give Vanessa one more kiss before she lights another cigarette. "See you later, Nessa."

“Later, love.” Her relationship with you is complicated and easy. You fuck, you talk, you go about your day. The fact that she knows more about you than you know about yourself is a non-issue right now. “You should go on a date.” She calls out with a laugh. “You’re too pretty to pay all the time.”

"Easier said than done, gorgeous!" You call back, and wave once before turning down the hallway that leads to the front door.

Taking a drag off her cigarette, she smiles as she blows out the smoke at the ceiling. If you only knew how alike you were to your soulmate, you would hate it.

******

The sun has set while you've been inside. Going to see Vanessa was a spur of the moment decision after a lead on a story didn't pan out and you had decided that fucking away your frustration was the way to go. Now, as you slip out the front door of the brothel and out of the gate to where you parked your junker of a car up the street, Bogotá is starting to take on its second life. There will be plenty of noise and people dancing the night away at the restaurant two floors under your apartment, and the white noise of an active city will lull you to sleep tonight just like it has for your whole life.

Javier Peña steps out of his Jeep, pulling at his belt slightly from where the jeans don’t sit quite right and shakes his hand as he walks towards the brothel. Feeling jittery and slightly needy as he steps in the familiar path. Helena couldn’t come to him for some reason, busy with her kid or something, so he had decided to take her up on her suggestion to visit Vanessa. She is a good time as well and normally had information to sell. The woman walking towards him looks familiar, but he can’t place where he’s seen her, striding by confidently with her purse firmly in hand. She doesn’t even spare him a glance but he can’t help but twist his head around and watch the curvy ass bounce past him tauntingly, making his cock twitch in his jeans as he imagines what it would be like to push inside her. Fuck. He needs to get laid.

"Hey, Javi." One of the newer girls is milling around in the front room when he comes in, but new or otherwise, all the girls have heard about the American DEA agent with deep pockets and a taste for their company. They're also always told that he has favorites, but every one of the new girls thinks they could be his new favorite if they just try.

“Hey…” he scrounges for her name. “Rita.” He sends her an easy smile and looks around to see if he can spot Vanessa. Rita is pretty, but he’s certain that Helena pointed him towards Vanessa for a reason. “‘Nessa with a client or she available?” He asks, looking back at the other girl with an assessing look. She’s a little young for him, but she’s pretty.

Rita's smile droops instantly, and she huffs as she turns to move behind the bar that they keep stocked in the front room. "Her last customer just left," she tells Javi, and points toward Vanessa's room.

“Thanks.” He nods at her, aware that she’s pouty that he’s not letting her take him to her room, but he doesn’t dwell on it as he walks down the hall towards the brightly painted door. This brothel is nicer than some, almost elegant. Shuffling slightly, he wishes he had a cigarette as he knocks.

"Come in!" Vanessa hasn't bothered to get dressed since you left, just thrown on a thin robe and tidied up the bed to sprawl out on it for a while until Javi comes by.

Javi quickly opens the door, eyes immediately drinking in the casual pose and skimpy clothing and hums in approval. “Vanessa.”

"Javier." She purrs his name happily, shifting on the bed to turn subtly in his direction but also so she can watch his eyes drag down to her cunt as she spreads her legs. He looks hungry today. "Come all the way in, handsome."

The door is kicked closed behind him and he’s not wearing a jacket, so it’s one less thing to shuck as he starts to undress. Obviously Vanessa knows why he’s here, but her cunt is slick with arousal and he wonders if she was playing with herself before he showed up.

Hungry. She was right. Vanessa pushes up onto her knees on the mattress and tangles her fingers in Javi's shirt. It pulls him closer but also helps him undress faster, which is something he clearly needs tonight. "Did you miss me that much, baby?" She hums, running her other palm along his chest as soon as his skin is bared.

He almost rolls his eyes at the endearment, but he doesn’t. He knows some men like their egos stroked, but he would rather she pay attention to his cock. Leaning forward, he answers her with a kiss, hot and urgent as his hands peel the robe off her lithe body. Suddenly thinking about the rounded curves on the woman he had passed coming in.

Alright. No need for verbal foreplay this time. Vanessa checks that effort off the list and haul Javi into her bed. He'll fuck first and talk later if he even needs to talk at all, so she pushes him down on his back and works open his jeans to have his cock in her hands as fast as he needs it.

The girls here always give him what he needs and he breaks away from her lips to start kissing down her chest to take a nipple into his mouth. He loves sex, losing himself in it and finding that it blocks out the doubt, the worry. The guilt. It’s forgotten as he chases that bliss that settles into his bones after an orgasm.

His jeans go, tossed on the floor without a second thought just like his shirt, and Vanessa doesn’t care about it either. Javi never wears underwear so it’s always directly to the point — his cock in her mouth and down her throat, fingers wrapped around the base until he grunts and twitches on her tongue. That’s when he pulls her off and gets her on her hands and knees instead, fucking the life and sense out of her as he tries to block out whatever demons follow so closely at his heels that he has been running from them every day for years without gaining any ground. In other moods, he’ll take his time or have her different ways. But when he’s hungry like this it’s always animalistic and needy. With Javi, she and Freckles and Helena don’t have to fake their noises. Or their orgasms. But they do have to fake nonchalance about his life. They know far more than he realizes.

His fingers slide between the folds of her sex and he groans. “So wet.” He quickly coats them in the slick and pushes two thick fingers deep inside her, loving way her breath catches in her throat. “I know it’s not for me.” He hums, flicking his tongue over her nipple. “But I’m going to use it.”

“She always gets wet for you, Javi.” Vanessa promises him, and that isn’t bluster. Some of their clients require more than a fair share of lube just to make things palatable. Javi? Not at all. He might be paying but he’s still giving pleasure while he takes it.

He snorts, smirking slightly at the curve of her breast as he pumps his fingers in and out of her. “Have you cum today?” He wants to know so he can make sure that if she’s hadn’t, he would make her cum more than once.

“T—twice.” His long fingers reach deeper inside her than yours had and Vanessa’s head tips back on a moan so he can hear her loud and clear.

“Hmmmm.” Javier isn’t jealous, he has no reason or right to be. She isn’t his. “Good, sweetheart. Then you can cum for me and then I won’t feel bad about putting your legs up on my shoulders and making you soak your bed.”

She doesn’t doubt that he could do it. He’s made Freckles cum so hard her vision whited out, and Helena had told them the story of a time she had gone to his place for a marathon session when he was particularly frustrated about something to do with work. She doesn’t doubt him, but she’s also not asking for any miracles. “Whatever you want to do,” she reminds him, voice strained just a touch from the angle her head is tipped back at.

He knows that’s how the game is played, but he doesn’t particularly like when his partners don’t enjoy themselves. “Good girl.” He murmurs, taking advantage of her head being pressed back into the pillow as he works her cunt on his fingers. His kisses have a little bit of teeth to them. Not enough to mark, but scrapes to hear her moan when he drags his teeth over her pulse. “Your cunt feels so good around my fingers, beautiful.”

“It’ll feel even better around your cock,” she reminds him, sighing happily with the next thrust of his hand and wrapping her own back around his hard on.

“I know it will.” He growls, working her on his fingers as he feels the need start to build in his body. Waiting will make it even more relaxing when he finally cums. Pouring out his frustrations and fears into the willing body of this beautiful woman and quieting the doubts that rattle around in his head.

Javier Peña fucks, and paid or otherwise, everyone who had ever gone to bed with him know this. The only emotions he is consciously pouring out areas the frustrations of the day and a desperate need to feel, so the woman in his arms is always going to feel him just as deeply as he feels his frustrations. Vanessa’s hips jerk against his palm, writhing with the tempo of his ministrations, until she gladly throws her head back to keen his name for at least the first time tonight.

He loves women. Their smell, their sounds, the way they tremble under a touch that is making them quiver in pleasure. “Cum for me.” He still thinks about that other woman, the thicker woman from the street. Wondering if she had been here. He pushes that thought away when Vanessa clenches down around his fingers again. “That’s it.”

"Fuck, Javi." She'll give him the satisfaction of seeing her all sprawled out and panting for him for a few seconds before she moves again. It isn't hard, after all. The two clients she's had today are her favorites for a reason.

His wet fingers caress her hip before he’s turning her onto her stomach and pulling her to her knees. “Beautiful.” He groans, bending down to kiss along her back.

"And now you've got this pretty pussy dripping all over again," she purrs, looking back at him over her shoulder.

His cock lines up easily and he snaps his hips forward to buried himself deep, knowing she can take it. “Fuck.” He hisses, loving how her cunt squeezes him tight. “Fuck.”

Not so long as to be painful, but long enough and thick enough to make her feel incredibly feel, Vanessa rolls her hips back to him and lowers herself onto her elbows to brace herself against whatever pace he decides to set. "Feels so fucking good, baby." She loves not having to lie or perform, the time she spends with Javi is much more desirable for it.

He gives her a moment, knowing that he is girthy enough to need to adjust to him. It doesn’t matter how many men she fucks daily. He groans and twitches inside her. “So good, sweetheart.” He hums. “So good.”

Vanessa lets him set the pace once she's adjusted to the feel of him inside her, rocking back into his hips and letting out an encouraging moan. If Javi needs to relieve his stress, she will happily help him with that. He doesn’t start out full tilt. Letting the pace build until the slap of his hips against her ass is just as loud as his grunts, her muffled cries. Every thrust a release for him and making him pull back quicker. Losing himself in her body.

The rhythm of their bodies and creak of the shaking bed weave a kind of hypnotic trance for both of them, letting them dissolve into animalistic sounds of greed and need without any need for traditional vocabulary. It's the perfect escape from thought – something everyone needs at least once in a while. Only the smell of sex and sweat and the sound of fucking fills their senses as Javi and Vanessa work to fuck each other breathless.

His fingers dig into her hips, holding her steady as he plows into her. Watching her ass bounce and shake from the force of his thrusts. It’s not going to last too much longer from the way his body is start to prime itself and he hunches over her, sliding fingers to her clit to rub that sensitive little nub.

Vanessa's panting picks up, her back bowed and her cheek against the crumpled blankets while he moves over her at an increasingly frantic pace. He's close and she wants him to take everything he needs on the way.

“Fuck.” Javi hisses, gritting his teeth to hold back. “Come on, Vanessa, give me one more.” He begs. “Cum for me.”

She's close enough that his next thrust pushes a groan out of her along with a whimper of assent, and if he were the kind of man who was into that she would be calling him Papí and begging him to let her cum. Javi has never been much for permissions or honorifics, though. There's an honesty to the fierocity that he fucks with that Vanessa appreciates.

“Fuck, that’s it, cum. Cum!” He growls, pulling her upright and holding her against his body as his thrusts sharply into her.

The force of his thrusts and the change in angle pushes her over the edge with a rapturous cry, and Vanessa clings to his arm to make sure she doesn't fall over as he chases his own orgasm with unyielding thrusts. The gush of her cunt makes him moan in her ear. Eyes closing in bliss as he gives in to the needs of his body and thrusts deep a final time. Pouring hot waves of himself into her body as he wrings himself dry.

"Fuck, Jav." Vanessa laughs, her legs wobbling as he hangs onto her and keeps them both upright. It just a minute they'll tip over and end up sharing a cigarette sprawled out on her bed, which makes it the second time today that she'll have done that with a client.

“You’ll have to give me a minute if you want to go again.” Javier pants in her ear, smirking and kissing her lobe gently to make up for the marks of his teeth that were made while he was cumming. He tends to bite unconsciously but always soothes it away.

"Take your time." She chuckles, stretching luxuriously as they both plop down on the mattress to catch their breath.

He chuckles and pats her hip as he eases out of her. Sighing in satisfaction and staring up at the ceiling.

There is enough routine here – enough knowledge of each other – that Vanessa reaches over to the nightstand and pulls out a cigarette and her lighter, savoring the first drag herself before handing it over to Javi. If he wants to talk he will, and he almost always does. But sometimes he enjoys a few minutes to just think of nothing, so she won't take that from him.

The cigarette is gladly accepted, breathed into his lungs and he lets the nicotine spreads through his system and mellows him even more. “I didn’t see Freckles or Helena.” He observes quietly.

"Freckles is...resting." Enigmatic replies don't go far with Javi, Vanessa knows that, but since she knows he's going to be angry she hopes that he'll just accept it for once. Highly unlikely, of course, but a girl can hope.

He catches the hesitation and he braces himself for the answer to the question that he will ask. “Who?” He asks simply, knowing she will understand what he means.

Vanessa sighs, pinching her eyes shut and wishing she hadn't said anything. "La Quica."

Javier tenses, his hand that had been stroking her thigh freezes. “Bad?”

"She'll be okay." She will. At least that isn't a lie or simply wishful thinking. Freckles will be fine. But right now she doesn't look it.

Javi turns his head and his eyes bore into hers, gauging the truth in them. “What set him off?” He asks, sitting up and reaching for his pants.

"He was too drunk to keep it up and he blamed it on her." It's not as though he was the first client to have that problem by any means, or the first to be angry about it, or the first to take it out on the girl he had hired. La Quica just has a particular ability to always take things too far. "It's not like it's a new problem around here."

He knows that. The girls have a dangerous job and some of the unfortunate ones had paid the highest price when their client got too angry, or vicious. He clenches his jaw as he pulls out his wallet and pulls out several folded hundred-dollar bills. “Give this to her.” He tells Vanessa, twisting around to hand her the money.

"Javi..." She shakes her head, it being the second time today that she's been offered far too much money to help Freckles by someone who technically owes the girls nothing.

“Take it.” He waves it towards her again. It will all be expensed out anyway. Why not let some of Uncle Sam’s money go where it can actually help for once? She reluctantly takes it and Javi relaxes slightly. “My partner’s wife is a nurse.” He offers. “I could bring Freckles to her.” From what he’s seen from Steve Murphy, he would never let his pretty little wife near a brothel, but he could have her come to his apartment.

"Between you and–" Vanessa shuts her mouth and shakes her head again, but tucks the bills away in the same drawer where she put your donation to Freckles' well being. "We have enough to pay." She tells him, grateful that he would offer regardless. "It doesn't have to be a charity case."

“It’s not charity.” Javier steps into his jeans and pulls them up over his hips, tucking his cock away. The idea of another round was killed by the grim realities of the professions they work in. He wonders who she had been about to say, but figures it might be another regular. “You also need to put some away for when this isn’t an option.”

"What do Americans call it?" She looks up at him as he dresses and wishes the relaxed bubble of post-orgasm relaxation hadn't been popped so abruptly. "A rainy day fund?"

“Slush fund.” Javi huffs in amusement, turning towards her and deciding to sit back down and leans in to kiss her.

"That's it." The returned kiss is soothing. Appreciative. And slightly amused. "I knew I had heard something like that." From her other American regular customer. And what an irony that is.

“You should relax the rest of the night.” Javi murmurs, stealing one last kiss before he pulls away again. Needing to get dressed and see Carillo.

"I'll try." It's nice of him to suggest it, but she does have to work if someone shows up for her. That's how the job works.

Once he’s dressed, gun reattached to his hip, Javi reaches out and pinches her chin softly. “Be good.” He murmurs, winking at her before he turns around to walk out of her room.

"Never." Vanessa calls back, shaking her head a little as he strolls out into the hall and settling back on her bed. She'll clean up and then go and check on Freckles, but she's going to allow herself a second to breathe first.

Javi’s easy smile slips into a frown as he steps out of the brothel. The dim lap light makes him look even more forbidding as he pulls out a cigarette and lights it up. Taking a drag as he looks around the deserted street and then marches towards his jeep with the determined gait of a man on a mission.

******

A bare five minute later, Vanessa taps lightly on Freckles' door, the four rhythmic knocks letting the girls inside know it's one of them and not a customer. Helena opens the door a crack with worry in her eyes, but relaxes the second she sees Vanessa in her robe. "You've had a busy day," she observes, stepping back to let the other woman in and shutting the door tight behind her.

“Both of our favorite customers.” She snorts and walks towards the bed. Freckles looks horrible, her face still swollen and the bruises garish on her normally beautiful features. She sits down and takes her friend’s hand. “They both are upset you are ‘ill’.” She tells the other girl.

"Javi must be pissed if you told him the truth," Freckles observes, resting amongst her pillows and grateful for the respite of a few days to heal. Yesterday even talking was excruciating.

“I think that’s an understatement.” Vanessa murmurs, pulling the money out of her pocket and pressing it into Freckles’ hand. “Both of them were angry, but Javier left before round two.”

"That's furious in Javi terms." Helena leans over, inspecting the bills, and bites her lips when she looks back at Vanessa. "Both of them?" She asks, seeing the amount there.

She nods, shaking her head with a small chuckle. “So goddamn alike it’s almost comical.”

"Have they ever even met?" They haven't that Helena can remember, but it's not as though she keeps close tabs on either of them.

“Not that I know of.” She shrugs. “I honestly don’t know if they want to meet.” All three women have heard their views on soulmates.

"What if we want them to meet?" Freckles sips a glass of water and laughs at the very thought of it. "Can you imagine? Running into each other here of all places?"

The other two women laugh, knowing that each of you would be defensive for different reasons. “They might have seen each other on the street.” Vanessa admits. “She left right before Javi got here.”

"Does she even like men?" It had astonished Helena the first time she'd seen the matching marks for herself, but the fact of soulmates is pretty undeniable when it's right in front of her nose. "She always sees one of the three of us. I don't think I've ever even heard her talk about a man."

“She said that women are better pussy eaters, so I assume she has some male reference.” Vanessa laughs. “I don’t know for sure though.”

"And she's absolutely not wrong." Helena steals a drink of Freckles' water and lays back with Vanessa on her other side. "At least she won't be disappointed in her soulmate if they ever end up in bed together."

“I love the days Javi wants to go down on me.” Vanessa agrees. “Normally he wants me to ride after too.”

"You've got a thumbprint bruise blooming on your hip, baby." Helena observes with a tilt of her head. "Was he already worked up when he came in? He normally doesn't get rough otherwise."

“A little.” She admits with a grin. “It was more of a work up to that fast and furious pace that makes you squeal.”

"I almost hope that man never leaves the country." As much as she is trying to work things out and get away herself, Helena still has her doubts that it will pan out. In the meantime? She is very much appreciative of the few clients like Javi they have in their lives.

“I know, he has you come over to his apartment.” Vanessa nudges the other woman’s foot playfully. “Is it messy?”

“No messier than he is here.” Helena shrugs. Once, on a night that has become a very fun story that she keeps for just herself and her closest friends, Javi had actually made her squirt. That was messy.

“So….a little rough around the edges but mostly contained.” Freckles hums. “He’s probably the one man I could see falling for. As stupid as that is.”

“We’d all be in a hell of a lot of trouble if we let ourselves think like that,” Helena points out, despite having had the same thought more times than she cares to admit.

“I know, which is why I don’t let myself think like that unless things are really bad.” Right now, things are bad for her, so it’s a nice little escape.

“You dream all you want right now, honey.” Vanessa urges, soothing one hand over Freckles’ thigh in gentle strokes. “While I’m thinking of it…” she looks between the other girls. “Javi’s partner’s wife is a nurse. Said we can bring you to her to get you checked out. I honestly don’t think it’s a bad idea.”

“Is it that bad?” Freckles ask, having been afraid to look in the mirror at the damage.

“I think you’ll heal just fine, sweetheart,” Vanessa assures her, her soothing hand doubling down on gentle gestures. “But she might be able to help with pain. Or getting it to settle down and heal faster. And…nicer.” They work in a job where their beauty is an asset, and it would not be the first time that a customer’s brutality left one of the girls without that particular asset, making it harder for her to work.

“Hopefully she’s not a bitch.” Freckles sigh, resigned to the fact that it would be a good idea. “Or think we are fucking her husband.”

“I don’t think he would have suggested it if he thought she would be a bitch to us,” Helena points out, though it might be wishful thinking.

“He doesn’t tolerate much shit.” Vanessa adds, wishing she had some alcohol to help them relax.

Helena nods, knowing that’s true, and adds: “And if she turns out to be a cunt? We’ll leave.”

“I will call him.” Helena offers, shooting them both a smile. “And maybe he will want me to stay after.” She jokes.

“Maybe.” Vanessa smiles, knowing that Helena is attached and that some of the girls suspect Javi might even be a little attached to her. Mostly the whispers are jealous, but Vanessa tries not to be.

Freckles hums and when she twists to get comfortable, she groans in pain. “I— if you think it’s alright.” She concedes softly.

“You should rest, honey.” Vanessa coos softly. “Helena will call Javi and find out when we can take you to the nurse. We’ll get you better in no time.”

Nodding, the injured woman closes her eyes and sighs softly, trying to relax.

******

It's past dark when you get home, the nightlife of Bogotá coming alive around you as the city pours out onto the streets to celebrate the night of another day. The club on the ground floor of your building has just opened for the night, and you slip past the bouncer with a friendly wave to have a drink and say hello before heading upstairs to solitude for the night. You do have work to do, but it's nice to at least see Inez and soak up a little of the atmosphere before it gets too busy. The crowds won't be out in earnest for another few hours.

Before you even sit down at the bar, there is a drink in front of you. Inez smiling at you as she leans back to grab her rag and wipe up a little of the condensation from another patron’s beer bottle. “Surprised to see you here.” She hums.

“I was feeling social.” Is your excuse, but it’s more like you know you’re probably going to be hunched over your typewriter for a while and you wanted something nice before resigning yourself to that fate. “Besides. You make the best Coco Loco in Bogotá, why would I miss out on that?”

“You shouldn’t.” She snorts, watching as you pick up the glass and take a sip. She likes the hum of approval you give and when your drink is already halfway down, she pours the rest of the drink from the mixer into the glass. “What have you been up to today?”

“Work. Mostly.” Even your stop to see Vanessa could technically be considered work since you learned a bit about the tone of what’s going on with the sicarios lately. “I have to write something up to send to my editor.”

“They can’t expect you to come down, spend a week and have the story of the year, can they?” Inez snorts, not sure why Americans are so interested in Colombia. She enjoys you being here, but it’s strange to think of how involved they are with her country.

“I need at least a few inches to prove it’s worth the expense of bankrolling me down here.” After about a month in the country you’ve only managed to send back copies of your notes and drafts of actual article inches. You’re working at it, but the story down here is so much larger than you thought that it’s taking time to get all the puzzle pieces together.

“Have you given any thought to my idea?” She asks, certain you have already dismissed it.

“Actually, I did.” Inez had been the one to suggest that the working girls of the city might have far more information than some others because of braggarts with wagging tongues. And she was very right. “They’ve been my best source so far, so thank you for that. Most of my running around the past few days has been following up on things they told me.” You’ve also been a paying customer since the suggestion was put to you, but your neighbor doesn’t necessarily need to know that. Inez has been a good friend but if you didn’t live across the hall from her she probably wouldn’t have given you a second thought, which is fine.

“Good.” She smirks slightly and shrugs. “They are a good group of girls. Just have some shitty luck.”

“Everybody has shitty luck sometimes. Nobody deserves to get judged for it.” You shrug a little, enjoying the alcoholic bite of the coconut cocktail. “Or judged for what their job is. And those girls get plenty of bullshit. I promise you, they’re not getting any grief from me.”

Another customer comes up to the bar, so Inez quickly shifts over to them, a bright smile and quick smatter of small talk to hopefully get better tips.

There isn’t much business yet, which is normal, but you take a few minutes to survey the early arrivals. There is a group of women that comes twice every week without fail — coworkers, a group between three or even six of them who come to each dinner and stay until the party picks up. You’ve figured out from eavesdropping and the types of clothes they arrive in that their office closes just as the club opens. A pair of men that you’ve seen before files in after them. They’ve been here twice before but tonight they look far more excited than the previous visits. Good for them, you think, smiling to yourself when you see their hands brush and fingers twine momentarily as they sit down in a booth.

The man who just sat two stools down from you at the bar is new. Or at least new to you. Inez bats her eyelashes and flirts, making an art of mixing his drink and gets a large bill handed to her in return. She winks as she walks away, back in your direction.

Sliding to a stop in front of you, she turns her head to make sure the man is occupied with the mirror over the bar that gives him a sweeping view of the place. “CIA.” She murmurs quietly, motioning over to him.

“Seriously?” You’ve seen them around the embassy but not often enough or close up enough that you would recognize one of them out in the wild. Clearly.

“Mmmmhmmmm.” She glances over at him again. “Maybe I should introduce you? Or you think you can manage that yourself?”

Glancing to your side again, you consider what better or worse end might come from that kind of thing and hum to yourself quietly. "If nobody shows up for him before his next round," you murmur to Inez, swirling the watery remains of your own drink. "Put the next one on my tab and tell him I sent it. We'll see if that gets him talking."

She smirks and nods. “You are a smart girl.” She promises before looking past you to take the ticket from on of the waitresses that work the booths.

"I do my best," you sigh as she walks away, but sometimes it really feels like your best just isn't enough.

The club starts to fill up, the music gradually increasing until it’s a thumping rhythm showcasing the hottest dance music. Bodies start to move, but the man next to you just watches the mirror.

“Waiting for someone?” It’s a risk. Chatting someone up at a bar is always a risk. But considering you know what he does, you’re going to switch to English and how he feels infatuated to talk to you just by virtue of being a compatriot.

It’s always intriguing to hear English, so he turns to look at you. Knowing that he recognizes you from somewhere around the Embassy. “Not really.” He admits, taking another sip of his drink and glancing at your left hand. “You?”

“Not really.” It’s a crap shoot with men, you’ve found. Whether they’re bothered by the fact that you’re not a stick or willing to go for any old cunt they think they can fuck. Women tend to have more appreciation for a plush figure. Thankfully this CIA agent only seems concerned with the lack of ring on your left hand. Well, that’s fine. “Have I seen you around somewhere?” You ask, turning a little on your stool to be facing him. The fact that you know the answer already doesn’t matter.

“Don’t know, where have you been hanging out?” He asks, catching the cute bartender’s eye and motioning for another round of drinks for you and him.

“I went by the American embassy last week.” Trying to make it seem like nothing so he doesn’t put his walls up in front of a journalist, you shrug and just say, “Paper work” as an excuse.

“Gotcha.” He doesn’t offer up what he does, despite some throwing it around like a badge of honor, he prefers to be low key. “Are you visiting?”

"Trying to find myself," is your enigmatic answer, though it is technically about ninety percent a lie. That wistful, dreamy part of you that read Gabriel García Márquez novels and fantasized about finding love with exotic sunsets in the background in still hoping you might be able to scrounge some truth about yourself out of this assignment. But really? It's work. "You?"

“Work.” He answers simply, nodding towards Inez as she sets two new glasses down in front of you both and grins. “Decided to see what the night life is like here.”

"This place stays busy until all hours of the night. Party music and people dancing, shouting, all of it." Still not quite sure what might get this stalwart CIA agent to crack even a little, to give you anything, you mentally shrug and decide to go for the old standby. The expression on his face wonders how you could know what this place is like – if you're a regular maybe, or just like to haunt the bar here. So you offer, "I rent an apartment upstairs."

“Really?” His interest perks, like a dog that’s caught a scent. He reaches for his drink and sends you a smile. “What’s that like? I bet it’s…noisy.”

"It can be." Bingo. Hooked the fish, you think, prouder of yourself than you probably ought to be. "But sometimes I like to make just as much noise."

“Doubt anyone down here could hear that.” He glances back up at the mirror. “Can you see the bar from up there?”

"You can see the street." It's an odd question, but you don't fight it. "From my living room windows, I mean. The door to get upstairs...and my bedroom...those don't face the street." He's sniffing around for something from you, too. You can feel it. But you're just not sure what.

He nods and leans back to look at you. Assessing you. “So no one can really see you come and go.” He hums. “That’s smart. Safe. A pretty woman like you needs to take precautions.”

Something in his tone doesn't sound entirely sincere, but since you're not either, you're not going to hold it against him. "I'm a city girl," you assure him with a demure smile, pretending like you're hiding being flustered behind your drink as you take a sip. "I know how to look out for myself."

“That’s good.” He sends you a confident smirk. “I’m Alex.” He offers, leaning close. “What’s your name?”

You tell him, though he’ll probably end up calling a condescending ‘sweetheart’ if anything at all, and decide to lean a little closer just to put an edge in the flirtation. He isn’t bad looking, after all, or rude. He hasn’t been misogynistic to you tonight or haughty. He just seems quite bland overall, which isn’t a sin even if it does make something in the back of your mind dread the idea of seeing your soulmate’s scars on him when his shirt comes off later. The tattoo on his thigh. Your own scars marking memories that your soulmate would have felt but never shared.

Nope. Stop thinking about shit like that. Soulmates are for saps.

“That’s a beautiful name.” He admits, taking another sip of his drink and repeats it. “Do you want to talk somewhere a little quieter?” He asks suggestively.

“I think I know a place.” Pointedly looking up to the ceiling, you slip the strap of your purse onto your shoulder and slide gracefully off of your stool. Inez has been keeping one eye on you, and you give her a subtle nod to promise her that everything is okay as your new friend Alex shifts onto his own feet.

Alex pulls out his wallet and puts down the money for the drinks and a hearty tip. Wanting to make sure that the bartender stays warm to him. This club is important and he needs to be welcomed.

"Have a good night." Inez calls you by name, wanting there to be no mistake that if anything even vaguely out of the ordinary happens to you or around you, she will know and she will know who is responsible.

"Night," you call back, allowing yourself to be lead out of the club, though you know you'll have to lead the way from there.

“Have you been here long?” Alex asks as you lead him towards the stairs to your apartment. It’s ingenious to say the least and he’s glad he had sat at the bar tonight rather than a booth.

"About a month." The charming smile on your lips as you head up the stairs around the tight corner of the club's back hall is girlish. Smitten. And a put on. You're still wondering if he's going to spill the fac that he's CIA or if you're going to have to hope he talks in his sleep. "It's not a lot of space, but I'm just one girl." One girl who typically has all of her work spread out on nearly every surface in the apartment. Thank god you went on frustration-induced cleaning bender yesterday.

“I don’t like having a lot of space if it’s just me.” Alex admits, looking around the small little hallways for any type of security. “More to clean.”

“That’s true, I guess. Smaller is easier.” As you lead the way up the stairs, a large caramel-colored lump on the top of the stairs starts to growl menacingly and lift its sizable head. Teeth bare at the sight of a man behind you, but you hustle up the stairs and coo gently to the enormous mastiff in a sweet voice. “Hey Chi-Chi. How’s my girl?” Immediately the dog stands, bumping her head into the hand you’ve reached out toward her and snuggling into you for pets. She is a living security system that really loves snuggles.

“Yours?” Alex stopped at the first growl, watching warily as the size of the dog is revealed. She’s obviously a big breed and doesn’t take kindly to strangers.

“My landlady,” you explain, still coping at the enormous dog in a mix of English and Spanish that she is obviously used to and enjoys. “There are a few single women in this building, so she taught her dog to sleep on the stairs and guard us. Didn’t she, Chi-Chi baby?” It’s a good system, and you smother the dog’s large head in kisses one more time before coming back down a few stairs and bringing Alex forward by the hand. “She hates men.” Is your casual addition to the thought as you lead him down a short hallway.

“All the time?” He asks, looking behind him at the dog as he expects her to attack him. “Or just those she doesn’t know?”

“If you come around more than once, I’ll teach her to like you.” Something tells you to very much doubt it, but you just try to toss him a semi-charming smile while you dig in your purse for the key to your apartment.

“Well I guess it all depends on how tonight goes, hmm?” He asks, stepping closer and grabbing hold of your thick hips. “If you invite me back.”

“I guess you better impress me.” When your fingers close around your keys at the same time his find your hips, you look back over your shoulder and find a little smirk curling in the corner of your mouth. “Good start.”

He chuckles as you open the door, shuffling in behind you and he nudges it closed with his foot. “Then let’s see where we go from here.”

Inside the door, you drop your purse and keys on the side table, flip the lock on the door so you won’t be disturbed, and finally turn around in Alex’s arms to let your fingers trail through the hair on the back of his neck. “Let’s see,” you agree, already feeling his shoulders drop as he bends down to press his lips to yours. No pre-destined bullshit or obligation in sight, the fact that he isn’t your soulmate speaks to you. Your life. Your choice. And tonight the choice is him.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

BFoW: @haileymorelikestupid @theorganasolo

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Javier Peña #Javier Peña x reader #Javier Peña x you #Javier Peña x female reader #Javier Peña x f!reader #Javier Peña x plus size reader #plus size reader #Narcos #Narcos fanfic #soulmate au

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pimosworld · 5 months ago

Text

The ties that bind

Pairing-Dave York x f!reader x Frankie Morales

Series Summary-Dave is a private investigator who tracks down soulmates. He's tasked to find Frankie's, but what happens when he finds you and wants you all to himself?

CW-18+,NSFW,MDNI, Fluff, teasing, shower sex,Dom Dave, MMF dynamics, voyeurism, Unprotected piv,Protective best friend.

WC-3.6K

A/N- Happy Frankie Friday. I know it’s been awhile but I have not abandoned these three. New chapters will be slow going because life happens but I still have a lot in store for them.

[Main Masterlist][Series Masterlist]

Not beta read

Chapter VII

You don’t remember the last time you woke up this peacefully. It almost feels like you’re dreaming being squished between these two bodies under a mountain of Egyptian cotton comforters. All you can see in a cloud of fluffy white is two distinct brown mops of hair. You want to run your fingers through it, the way you did last night. You think better of yourself and decide not to wake them for your own personal reasons.

Speaking of not waking them. You’re in a precarious position, you try to sit up against the headboard to extract yourself from the covers but a large hand pins you down. Frankie huffs a little and slides even closer to you. He seems to be still in dream land as does Dave so you quickly drape his arm across you. It buys you a moment to slide up just as he gravitates towards the other man. It makes you laugh how desperate he is for a warm body to snuggle up to. It’s a little bit more of acrobatics to climb over them as you land softly on the carpeted floor.

The only clothing item of yours in reach is your tight black dress from the night before so you opt for Dave’s dress shirt. You glance down at your phone tossed aside on the loveseat and curse yourself when you see a litany of notifications. You definitely need to call your best friend and fill her in on the details. Maybe not all the details but at least let her know you’re okay.

Alicia

So?

Call me

Missed call

Are you alive?

You better have got dicked down by one of them

I’m just kidding

Missed call

Only slightly kidding babe

I’m gonna come down there and bang on your door

Incoming call

“Hello.”

“Oh my god, why do you even have a phone?” You feel slightly bad at the panicked tone.

“Sorry.” You say in a hushed voice.

“Why are you whispering?”

“Just…let me step outside.” You glance around and see the two men still sound asleep and head out into the balcony.

“Outside? Outside where?” Her shrill voice cuts in as the morning sun blasts you.

“The balcony Alicia.” You glance down hoping no one can see you but it seems way too high for anyone to notice.

“Those rooms don’t have balconies.” She says.

“The penthouse does.” All mischief in your tone as you hear her sharp intake of breath.

“The fucking penthouse!” She shrieks and you instinctively turn around as if they can hear her through the phone.

Your laugh sets hers off as you bounce giddily on your feet. “Yes, that’s what I said.”

She takes a deep breath and you prepare yourself for the influx. “So what was it like? I mean did you even do anything or did you guys just talk?…Who am I even kidding of course you didn’t just talk. Did you fuck both of them?” She’s completely spiraling now and you can’t even remember her first question. “Holy shit did they fuck each other? I’ve always wanted to be with two guys, you just checked something off my bucket list.”

“Okay, okay, breathe.” Your stomach hurts from laughter as you fidget with the hem of Dave’s shirt. “I’m not sure how me doing something checks it off your bucket list.”

“So you’re saying?” You shake your head at the slight lilt in her tone.

“I’m saying….I had an amazing night and I’d like to talk to you about it in person.” She groans but concedes. Much like your friendship you always understood each other.

“You know? It’s a beautiful day to hit the beach.”

You sigh as you look out onto the horizon. The aquamarine shore gives way to the dark blues as the water grows deeper. “Ya it is, we should go.”

“Yes…all of us should go.” Her insistence leaves no room for argument and you wouldn’t dare pass up an opportunity to let her blow off a little steam. You may have forgiven them but you know your best friend had some words for them since that night at the bar.

“Okay babe, I’ll talk to them when they wake up and come up with a plan.”

“When they wake up!? Your pussy must be molded from the gods if you fucked them to sleep.”

You groan as the balcony door opens and you nearly drop your phone. “Text you the deets, gotta go.”

You hear the tail end of a sentence as you hang up the phone. Dave is smirking at you as he leans in the doorway, dressed in his black boxers and nothing else.In the daylight he’s a marvel. His thick thighs that bracketed you between him. His defined waist and the small tuft of hair just below his belly button, his toned chest and that smirk he’s giving you because you realize you’re staring.

“See something you like?” His morning voice drops with want and you bite your lip as you nod your head.

He crosses his arms over his chest as he dips his chin. “Well I see something that belongs to me.”

“Oh sorry.” You gesture down at the shirt and your exposed thighs. “It was the first thing I saw.”

“I wasn’t talking about the shirt hummingbird.” He stalks toward you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pins you against the window. You’re too high up for anyone to see anything but his body shields you as he runs his hands along your thighs, dragging his shirt up with them. He dips his head as you wrap your arms around his neck bringing him into you. It’s so much better than that first kiss, it’s uninhibited as you moan into his mouth. The cool contrast of his hot hands and your body against the cool window is exhilarating. Frankie would be getting quite the show if he was awake.

You snake your hand down his chest to palm his cock through his boxers and he whimpers. The sound almost brings you to your knees.

You push him back gently as you glance over your shoulder…it would be selfish to wake Frankie and you certainly can’t fuck on this balcony, at least not the first time with him. Sensing your thoughts he pulls your chin to face him. “You want to take a shower?” Your words are still caught in your throat so you nod as he releases your chin. He takes your hand in his as you glance down at your phone. You blink twice seeing the time still counting down on the call. I thought I hung up?

You raise the phone to your ear and give him an apologetic smile. “Hello?”

“So you’ll give me the details after the shower.” You give her a hushed yes as she laughs on the other end. “Molded from the gods.”

“Okay bye.”

****

You’re leaning against the bathroom wall admiring the way his back flexes as he turns on the water. Holding his hand under the stream until it’s the right temperature. In your haste last night you didn’t really get a chance to look around the room. The large ceiling to floor windows and the marble tiles. The crushed velvet couches and the large work desk. It’s the most expensive room you’ve ever been in. The large dual shower with the rain water setting makes it look so luxurious. You may be getting ahead of yourself but you could get used to this.

“As much as I love the way you look in my clothes, I need this off.” He steps in front of you, his large hands work the small buttons of his shirt as he pushes it down your shoulders. His hands are cold from the water and he sees you shiver as his fingers graze your exposed breast. His lips find your shoulder as the shirt falls to your feet. He leaves little open mouth kisses down your arm and across your chest as he backs you up into the shower, helping you over the small ledge so you don’t trip.

“Well I need those off if you’re going to join me.” You gesture at his boxers and he slowly drags them down his thighs as he holds your eye contact. It’s hard to concentrate on one thing as your eyes flit down to his cock settled heavy between his thighs. His hooded gaze as he stares you down, challenging you to stay focused.

He steps into your space, the steam rolling off him as he steps under the water. His hands find your waist as he pulls you into him, dipping his head to your neck as he breathes in your scent. The water cascading off his body onto yours as he holds you close. It’s pure torture as he teases you, his cock between your thighs as he grinds your hips into him, the tip just barely brushing against your clit makes you gasp and he catches it with his mouth over yours.

“Dave please.” You whimper as he uses your body and he chuckles against your mouth.

“Patience hummingbird…we’re supposed to be getting clean.” He’s enjoying this, the slow build of anticipation as he turns you to face the water.

He squeezes some of the fancy hotel soap in his palms that smells like tea tree and vanilla. His lathered hands work their way over your shoulders and across your rib cage as you lean back into his broad chest. You can feel him achingly hard against your back but he has all the patience in the world apparently. He cups your breast in one hand as he rolls your nipple between his fingers, reveling in the way you hiss through your teeth.

He’s got you so keyed up you forget that you have cards to play as well.

You reach back, stroking his length as he thrusts into your hand. You chuckle as he curses under his breath while you steadily work him over. “You want to play this game sweetheart?” He grits out as his hand travels south, one arm snaking around to trap you against him.

You’re pinned but you can still manage to move your wrist as he dips his fingers between your folds, rubbing your clit with his thumb. An inaudible sound escapes you and you clamp your hand over your mouth.

“Don’t be quiet now hummingbird.” He growls in your ear as he pumps his fingers in and out. He pulls your hand away from your mouth as you pant out his name.

“I don’t want to wake…fuck.” You try to gather yourself as he curls his fingers. “Frankie.”

“Oh honey you fucked Frankie already.” He taunts you as he takes you apart. His words and his actions have you on the precipice of your climax.

“Fuck I’m so close..” The wet sounds of your bodies rubbing against each other and the cascade of the shower have thoroughly disguised your eager onlooker.

“Come for him.” You gasp at the sound of Frankie’s voice as Dave chuckles in your ear. Your hand grips his wrist as you try to cling to the last bit of sanity you have left. He swallows your cries with his lips as your head falls back to his shoulder. Relishing in the way he has you wrapped up so tight against him. If not for his strong arms holding you up you’d be in a puddle on the tile floor.

The sound of the other shower springing to life registers as Dave whispers praises in your ear. These men are seemingly already in some kind of easy morning routine where they can peel all your layers back. It’s almost not fair how comfortable they are sharing you when you wanted them to squirm a little. But you asked for this.

Dave’s hands haven’t left your body as the steam builds clouding your vision. His fingers grip and pull at your waist as you feel the faint evidence of their hands on you from the night before. It’s like he’s burning his memory into you, not wanting to let you go for fear that this is all some dream. He spins you around and presses you against the cool tile wall. You gasp and he chuckles as he flashes those pearly white teeth at you. The stark differences between him and Frankie have you reeling. You can tell he’s having too much fun playing with you as he stares at you with those deep brown eyes. The water drips off his dark hair as it rolls down the slope of his nose. He’s fucking beautiful.

You don’t know which way is up as you brace your hands against his chest when he dives down to kiss your neck. You can hear a groan from across the room as he wraps your leg around his hip, angling it just so that he can continue his torturous teasing. The slick sound of Frankie working himself over as Dave glances back and bites down hard on his lip to keep from coming at the sight.

“How rude of me.” He pants out as he turns your body slightly, nearly lifting your other foot off the floor. “I’m blocking the view.”

You let out a soft moan as Frankie’s eyes bore into you while Dave stretches you open. Notching your thigh higher up on his waist as he rolls his hips into you. You just might pass out from the sensations as shivers rack your body.

“Dave…fuck, it’s so…” He takes the words out of your mouth as he picks up the pace, practically working in tandem as Frankie feverishly fists his cock. You struggle to keep your toes on the ground as the lewd sounds of your moans echo off the walls.

Dave slows his pace as he glances over his shoulder. “I bet he’s thinking about how fucking tight this pussy is.”

Fuck. Frankie thinks he might have died and gone to heaven or he’s getting dangerously close to passing out from the steam and exertion. He doesn’t want to come before you but the way Dave is whispering in your ear and pushing you against the wall, he’s not sure how much longer he’s gonna last. The ripples in his back as he flexes his muscles. The way he grips your thigh and the way your toes curl when he hits that spot deep inside. It’s better than any porn he’s ever watched. He knows what it feels like to be inside you, to know what it sounds like when you’re close to the edge.

Your mouth hangs agape against Dave’s arm as your eyes rove up and down Frankie’s body like it’s a work of art. You look like a similar figure as the water rolls off the both of you and you cling to him for dear life desperately trying to keep your eyes from rolling in the back of your head.

Dave’s lips meet yours in a soft and sweet kiss. A complete juxtaposition to the way he’s dismantling you before you’ve even had your morning coffee.

“I think he wants us to come first hummingbird.” He smirks at you as he leans in whispering in your ear. “Maybe next time you’ll let us fuck you together.”

Frankie doesn’t hear the last part, but he can hear you as you come apart for the second time. Dave’s strong arms holding you against the wall as he works you through it. He can see the brief stutter as he fills you up and that sends Frankie over the edge as he lets out a loud groan and spills onto the tile below.

You’re floating as a blast of cold water washes over you and you faintly hear Dave curse, or Frankie you’re not entirely sure at this point. Your nerves frayed and your body spent from the overstimulation.

****

Two sets of the saddest brown eyes are looking down at you when you come to. You’re wrapped in the fluffiest white robe you’ve ever seen in your life and seem to have been deposited back in the bed. The looks of horror turn to utter confusion when you start laughing at their still slightly damp appearance with matching white towels wrapped around their waist.

It’s like the beginning of a wet dream you’re sure you’ve had before, two gorgeous men, half naked standing before you and all you can do is manage a small smile to let them know you’re okay.

“Jesus Christ hermosa…you scared the shit out of me.” Dave quickly shoots him a look of disapproval and Frankie corrects his previous statement to “us.” He’ll have to get used to that of course.

“I’m so sorry, I got a little carried away.” The bed dips as Dave sits down next to you, cradling your head in his large palm.

You place your hand on the outside of his gently brushing your fingers along his knuckles. Hopefully reassuring him you’re perfectly alright. Better than alright in fact. “Don’t be sorry honey, that was amazing.”

He’s slightly more taken aback at the pet name. Perhaps the first time you’ve used one with him. He wants to relish in it but maybe you’re just delirious from nearly getting heat stroke, or maybe it’s just comforting to you. Either way he’ll never correct you.

“Don’t encourage him.” Frankie is still standing above you, looking less than amused. He hands you a glass of water as you sit up against the headboard.

“I seem to recall someone else encouraging as well.” You raise an eyebrow at him and he seems to concede defeat at that. He joins you on the other side and you feel pleasantly cozy, trapped between them.

Dave looks down at you slowly, as you start to close your eyes. “We’re gonna have to set some ground rules, seeing as though we almost killed her.”

Frankie just hums in approval as he glances down at you.

You’re just gonna rest a little more and hope Alicia isn’t too mad that you want to spend a few more moments in your penthouse paradise.

****

You can tell she wants to say something

You could always read your best friend like the back of your hand. It’s almost driving you nuts that she hasn’t said anything. Instead she just smiles at you as you walk hand in hand down to your favorite spot just near the edge of the water. The boys in tow behind you whispering to themselves, yet everytime you turn around they just offer you the same smile as if everything is perfectly normal.

To the outside world everything is. It's just two couples, setting up camp in the white sand on the perfect sunny day. The aquamarine waves gently kiss the shore, calling to you as you take off your swim cover up. Not missing the way Alicia’s eyes dart to a few forming bruises on your exposed body.

You shoot her a look of drop it and she concedes as she takes hers off and lays it out along the sand. She knows you won’t be joining her as you silently fall into your normal beach routine, her laying out in the sun as you walk towards the waters edge.

“So…is Po-I mean Santiago be joining us?” Frankie finally breaks the silence as he nervously adjusts his cap, glancing over to Dave who looks like he’s going to make a break for the water to join you.

“Nope.” She pats the sand on either side of her and you hope for their sake she at least had a goodnight.

You turn your back to them and walk confidently toward the water until the warm sand starts to meet the waves and you dig your feet into the cold dense grit. The sound of the water as it gently kisses your calves and the seagulls above you are all you care about at this very moment.

****

“She looks happy.”

A firm statement Frankie can tell as Alicia keeps her eyes trained on you standing in the water. Dave glances over waiting for her to continue, not wanting to speak until he’s certain he’s supposed to. She has a protective air about her that he respects and also is genuinely terrified of.

They both know how fiercely you love each other and with that comes a lot more at stake. Frankie knows more so than Dave that Santiago and Alicia’s relationship thriving is directly tied to how they proceed. She would never put you through the torture of continuing to date his best friend if things didn’t work out between the three of you.

“I don’t think either of us could come back from another heartbreak.” She picks up a small handful of sand and watches it fall like a slip of an hourglass.

“We don’t intend on breaking her heart.” Dave says as sincerely as he can without letting on his nervousness.

“I’m sure you don’t intend to…but you didn’t intend on lying and you both did a bang up job of that already.” She levels him with a look and he opts to bite his tongue on that one. Frankie has the decency to look embarrassed even though Dave really should have come clean.

“Well consider that our first and last fuck up.”

You turn to them seated on the beach. Shielding the sun from your eyes with one hand and waving them over with the other. The brightest smile on your face as you silently plea for them to join you.

“I’ll consider it if you keep making her smile like that.”

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 1 year ago

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Ready To Hope

1200 Words for 1200 Followers #2

A/N: Hi friends! Welcome to the 12-A-Palooza! This event is my way of saying thank you for sticking with me. Your support and kindness toward me and my writing is out of this world and I’m grateful for every last one of you! Rolling right along with the second piece - which is set in the same AU as Every Color Illuminates. This “color soulmates” trope has been really fun to play with, so it might be pretty easy to convince me to write more for them ;)

Warnings: Talk of past relationships, Teresa makes a tiny cameo

Requested by: @alraedesigns - Song: Shake It Out - Character Choice: Marcus Pike (Thank you so much for sending this, Alex! I know you love this sweet cinnamon roll man, so I hope you enjoy the continuation of this AU! 💚)

Summary: When Marcus contacts a renowned Art Gallery in hopes that a Color Ambassador can help him with some details for a case, he’s reminded of the fact that asking for help to see color hasn’t always worked out for him in the past. This time, though, things will be different.

“This might be a shot in the dark, but-” Marcus clamped his phone between his ear and shoulder so that he had both hands free to pay the coffee vendor. Mouthing a ‘thank you’ to the man, he took his beverage, dropping his change in the tip jar. “You don’t have a Graysight CA who can walk me through the exhibit, do you?”

He held his breath and readjusted the phone, gripping it with his right hand. I hope she says y-

“We do.” Michelle, the director of the National Gallery of Art responded. “Actually, our best Color Ambassador sees in Graysight. And you’re in luck, Agent Pike, because she’s here today.”

Marcus released his held breath in a relieved sigh, lips lifting into a smile. Amazing. “That’s great.”

Admitting that he - the regional head of the FBI’s Art Crimes division - needed a CA always gave Marcus a hint of anxiety. It wasn’t because he was embarrassed that he hadn’t found his match yet. It was because he knew that people made assumptions about him based on his position, and that sometimes when they found out that he couldn’t see in color, their assumptions turned to doubt in his ability to do his job. But here was a fellow professional within the art community telling him that the best person for the task at hand was someone just like him.

Clearing his throat, Marcus tilted his left hand, careful not to spill his coffee, so he could read the time on his wristwatch. It was just after 11. No time like the present, right? “Would it be too much trouble to meet with them this morning? I can be there in half an hour.”

“Of course not, Agent, anything we can do to help. There’s a group tour finishing with that section of the Gallery now, but once they’re done I’ll rope off the wing so that you won’t be disturbed while you’re here.”

She excused herself then, telling him that she needed to go speak with the CA who would be guiding him. Marcus thanked her and hung up the phone, sliding it into his jacket pocket. He let out another sigh, this one heftier and more satisfying as it left his lungs.

Finally, a break in this case that goes my way.

Heading away from the coffee cart and toward where his car was parked, he tried to keep the next thought from materializing. He failed.

It’s not just this case that I haven’t caught a break in. It’s been… everything.

Though it had been nearly eight months since he’d left Texas, the way things ended between him and Teresa still stung when he thought about it. The sting was made worse by the fact that if their roles were swapped, she wouldn’t need a CA to assist on the case, because she had matched and had lived with color for years.

Jane had been the one to let the spectrum into her life. It had given Marcus pause at first, when she told him. But Teresa had insisted that it was simply because they were such good friends - that they connected on a level that was purely platonic. Hers hadn’t been one of those sudden, blinding explosions of color that some people experienced, but a steady glow as she got to know the man. That, along with the fact that Jane had been able to see color before meeting Teresa - his match had been his first wife - had been enough to convince Marcus that a serious relationship with her was possible.

Not everyone matched with their partner. He knew that. It didn’t mean a relationship was doomed.

There were other signs though. He frowned as he sipped his coffee. Other things I ignored.

Like the time he asked Teresa to describe the colors of a sunset they watched together . “I don’t know, Marcus.” She looked at him as if he’d asked her to solve a complex mathematical equation instead of helping him to understand the world around him. “It’s orange.”

“Yeah,” he’d said, one arm wrapped around her to bring her closer to his side, his lips landing near her temple. “But what does that mean? What does it make you feel?”

She’d only stared at him, shaking her head. “Warm, I guess? I don’t know, I can’t explain it. Hopefully someday you’ll be able to see for yourself.”

That had been the end of that conversation. Marcus never tried to get her to describe colors to him again. He told himself that he didn’t want to put her on the spot. But if he was being honest, it was because he didn’t want to think about what it meant that she wasn’t even willing to try.

But I can’t think about that right now. I need to… Need to think about this case. And I need to let go of what happened in Texas if I want to have any hope of finding something real.

Reaching his car, he got in and entered the address of the Gallery into his GPS. The automated voice and the gray arrow on the screen helped him concentrate, and before long he was pulling into the visitor parking lot.

Alright, Pike. He took a long swig of his coffee to drain it, setting the empty cup - one that he was told was brown with green stripes but only saw as light gray with darker gray lines - into the holder in the center console. Time to focus.

As promised, Michelle had roped off the Rothko exhibit, a security guard leading him there after Marcus showed the man his badge. As he waited in the room, he walked around and looked closely at the various color-blocked paintings on display - squares and lines and rectangles that all appeared to be in grayscale.

I can’t even imagine what it would be like to see these. Really see them.

Before he could get too lost in his fantasy, he heard a pair of footsteps getting closer. Turning, he saw you and began closing the distance.

“Agent Marcus Pike,” he introduced himself, holding his hand out to you with a smile.

You returned the smile and the introduction, fingers wrapping around his hand to bring your palms together. The moment you did, the room erupted in hues he didn’t have names for. The paintings that surrounded him seemed to glow, their colors radiating from the frames to shine directly on you. He sucked in a breath, a rush of emotion coursing through his chest.

I… I can see. It’s her.

He hadn’t taken his eyes off of you. Not even to glance around at the heavily saturated works he was there to study.

“Marcus?” Your voice came out as a whisper, and he saw the wonder in your expression, noticed the way that your breath came quickly and unevenly. He noticed the way that he felt relaxed and calm as blue and green shimmered in the corners of his vision and a soft tingle spread along his spine. “I… I don’t think you need me to-”

“No. I do.” He said your name again, smiling around it, letting it roll off his tongue. “I definitely do.”

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be added to or removed from the tag list, please feel free to let me know. You can also fill out the form on my Masterlist! :)

Tags: @something-tofightfor @littlemisspascal @mishasminion360 @nyctophiliiiiaaa @alraedesigns @practicalghost @tanzthompson @amb11 @haylzcyon @harriedandharassed @woodlandmouth @swtaura @thescarletfang @trickstersp8 @princessxkenobi @imtryingmybeskar @wildmoonflower @mswarriorbabe80 @theredwritingwitch @silverstarsandsuns @pedro-pedrito-pascalito @jedi-in-crocs @hannahkatharinee

#12 a palooza!#1200 followers 1200 words #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x female reader #pedrostories #marcus pike x you #soulmate au #marcus pike the mentalist #marcus pike fic #pedro pascal character #ready to hope

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wxckedwxrld · 1 year ago

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headcannons

• harry potter

• law & order: svu

• marvel

• narcos

• narnia

• peaky blinders

• riverdale

• 7ds

• Star Wars

• supernatural

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harryleatherfit · 1 year ago

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Upper East Side || A.U || Frankie Morales

Chapter 10: Hands

Chapter Playlist

Family Tree- Ethel Cain

Novacane- Frank Ocean

Butterscotch Goddamn- Fischerspooner

words: 5481

warnings: alcohol consumption, thigh riding, being held back?? orgasm, mentions of blood (fake tho) mentions of abusive parents, soft!dom frankie

pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader || Slowburn x Teacher Student x Soulmates

authors note: kinda a filler, but smut no worries. leading up to my favorite chapters i promise. had a few requests for one shots so working on those too!

🪩Main Master List🪩 Series Master List🪩

Frankie +POV

It was a night at the bar for him and the boys. One of their last free nights before it was time for the show. They were all exhausted from teaching during the day, to working on the set at night. He stayed with Benny and you for your lesson, to fortunately have a night of his life that he’ll never forget, but he was exhausted. The set for the Broadway theater had to be perfect. So many people were coming, and the school was going to be the talk of many social media outlets, newspaper columns, and this would bring in so much money for the spring musical.

Ultimately, he wanted this to all be over and to spend time with you. He wanted to put everything aside and swish you away for a vacation, or to go away and be around people that wouldn’t know you both. This feeling was eating him alive, he needed to be alone tonight with you, but you had previously told him you were sleeping early tonight to save your energy for the weekend, and the boys wanted to pull him away for a few drinks.

“Hello, Earth to Fish.” Pope waved his hand. “What’s up with you man?”

“Nothing, I’ll take a whiskey on the rocks.” He tells the bartender. It was 10ish, the night life at this specific bar was more older. Jazz was playing, attracting an older crowd. The guys ordered their drinks and food, making small talk about the show.

“Nah I know what this is about, it’s about that girl isn’t it?” Ironhead states. His girl.

He caught Frankie in a daze, “What?” He was already daydreaming about you. Longing for your soft heartfelt touch.

“You know who I’m fucking talking about, don’t play dumb with us man.”

He chuckles, “What can I say, this is different.” He sips his drink.

“You’re happier,” Refly adds.

“I haven’t had these many heart palpitations in a long time. She’s gonna kill me.” Frankie scratches his head, he didn't want to give too much away, but they all already knew about you. They had to pluck it out of him when he was drunk on poker night.

“About damn time dude.” Pope cheers, “Get this man more drinks he’s fuckinnnn pussy whipped! Had to find out the hard way you brought in Timothee for her, and that’s he’s comin tomorrow too? I feel betrayed.” He gasps.

“Calm down, calm down. It’s complicated, we can’t be screamin it to the world.” He hushes Pope down.

“How? You posted her, it's everywhere man.” Ironhead pips.

He’s thought about this a million times, talked it over with you a billion, “I just feel bad, being her teacher. I don’t want her to ever think I have some ulterior motive with her, or her to think I’m usin her. I mean we’ve talked about it before, and we know the risks of doing this. But I won’t lie and say that I’m not scared. She’s scared. If we’re open to the public this could ruin the both of us, and we’ll be looked at differently.” He gulps the last of the drink, “I mean when I told you guys, you all didn’t give me shit which I was surprised you didn’t clown me at first but-.”

“Fish, we saw how you reacted when we went to UNCSA to see her perform. Remember that night, after he hugged her and she didn’t even pay any attention to him? He practically cried like a little baby.” Redfly deadpanned, “I mean we could all see her talent from that stage. You were just the old grump that wanted her to jump your bones.” Abruptly bursting into laughter Ironhead and Pope clapped Redfly on the back.

“Very fucking funny man.” Frankie grumbles. He rips his hand around his glass cup, thinking about what you were doing right now, he hasn’t seen you since your voice lesson.

The first time he saw you was at your last performance of Cabaret. He couldn’t believe your performance, the way you fit Sally so well. Blowing the whole crowd away, the makeup on your face shimmered in the magnetic lighting, the costume flowing with the curve of your legs. Every miniscule facial expression is meticulously made up in your head. He could feel your character soaking in everyone's life, walking out of the show changed. A star. The next night, the whole team was tasked to go to your music recital, and your voice made people cry. Your emotion in singing was mood altering. This night reminded him of his childhood, how badly he wanted to let his creative brain flow but was inevitably allowed to. He had an older brother that would get under his skin, and parents that would eventually throw him out. Events in his life he wouldnt change, but still broke his soul nonetheless. He understood exactly what it was like to be a foreigner to your blood family, and seeing you shake from your mom took him back to when he was a little boy. He craved a love that would devour his body eternally at such a young age, he never thought he would find it. Because of this, he had to get to know you somehow. Once he knew everyone finalized for you and Laylah to come, he vowed to himself that he had to learn to be close to you, and find a way to protect you from evil New York, no matter what happened between you two.

Ultimately, being with you has changed him, and he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to scare you, but he wants more with you, he wants more for you.

“It happens, and that’s okay. We’ll help you figure this out. Benny, have you got any wise words of yours?” Redfly asks.

Frankie knew this wasn’t an easy topic for him, you being his star student. Of course you were the star student, they all fucking knew that. Emails from every agency asking about you, asking when you’d be done with college and ready to have your acting reel done. Ready to come to Hollywood and work with the real dogs. But, Benny was being the quietest of them all, he was happy for Frankie and you, not letting you know he knows, but this was a serious matter. Benny would be the one to help you for the rest of the year to make sure you would get a good part in the musical, as well getting booked after college.

It was his job to make sure the world sees your talent, as well as hears how well you sound. From a teacher's perspective he didn’t fully agree with it all, of course it would be a scandal, a teacher with a student. But as a long time friend with Frankie, he understood. He knew his life, knew what he has gone through and observes that this is the happiest Frankie has ever been.

“Well you flustered her, the entire lesson. She was trying really fucking hard to not be unfocused, but you do something to her that distracts her.”

Frankie frowned, he didn’t want to distract you, he didn’t want to hurt you in any way. He didn't want to be in the way of anything for you.

“I mean they’re practically fucking teenagers, if you all were there you would’ve felt the energy, they couldn’t keep their eyes off of each other.” He laughs, how Benny had no idea what had happened after her voice lesson, and leading up to it, “I’m happy for you Fish, and I support you guys every step of the way, I will always be here to help with Media, or anything that comes out. I will use my power in this fucked world. We all will, right?” Benny gets nods from the guys, “See we’re all here to help you, just be careful with her. Don’t fucking break her. You saw how fragile she is. She’s strong but one wrong kick coming from the wrong person.” Referencing your mom and Nina, “Then she can bring the world down with her. She’s emotional, but she’ll turn that emotion into her craft. We literally saw it in her audition, so this can’t be some one night stand shit.” One night stand enrages Frankie. You were definitely not some one night stand.

“She isn’t some one night stand Benny. Can’t fuckin believe you’d think that.”

“Hey, don’t fuckin talk to me like that. Or you aren’t allowed in her lessons anymore.” He snarls back at Frankie, “All I’m saying, we’ve seen you spiral after being with someone. Okay? This, whatever this is with her, is fucking precious and if you break it, if you fuck it up, and this ruins her career, you have to live with that.”

The air was stagnant with the boys, heavy and thick. Words said in the air to make Frankie overthink, was he in the way of your life? Was he gonna ruin you?

“I think I’m in love with her.” But, he could never truly say this to you, “I am gonna ask her to be my girl after the first show. I think it’s time, I want to take things slow with her.”

“Well congrats Fish, first step to finally settlin down.” Pope assures, ordering another round of drinks.

--------

Last rehearsal before opening night, the longest night of them all. Earlier in the week, it was the first dress rehearsal and there was magic in the air. Getting to work with the full set and props on Broadway, feeling the lights on your skin. Makeup sponged into your pores. Costumes sewed to your body, it was all so surreal.

The sleep you had gotten the night before was rejuvenating enough for your body, at least enough for your head to properly perceive the next few days. You were excited and couldn’t wait to become someone else for a while, you had the opportunity to really wow an audience again.

Techies were called at 5PM, thirty minutes after the last class had ended for the day, and actors were called at 6, but you decided to take today as a rest day, per Ms. Royalce’s order. You hadn’t gotten to see Frankie all day, you hadn’t seen him since your voice lesson, but you decided to go in with Laylah for her call time so you could at least see him even though he was going to be outrageously busy.

After having your ID checked by the outside ushers of the theater, you were met with the authentic air. The air that you could live, breathe, eat and sleep for eternity. Tonight was your last night of freedom, tomorrow can’t be safe.

As you always have seen, Frankie was on a ladder fixing something on the stage, all the other professors/ directors fiddling with papers, making phone calls, and having their assistants book food for the night. Nina is nowhere to be found. A sigh of relief fell from your heart.

You came with Laylah early, always eager to see what each rehearsal has in store.

“Over here! The perfect people, get over here!” Ms Roylance shouts from the apron of the stage.

You and Laylah shake your heads, wondering where that could have come from, she was always a stressed woman but you make way.

Frankie looks down from the light he was fixing and as he immediately lays eyes on you, you see the giddy boy smile on his face as he rushes down the steps. The swell in your heart.

“My perfect star girl, are you excited?”

You chew your cheek, “I would be lying if I said I wasn’t, I mean look at this.” You turn to all the empty seats that will be filled the very next night.

“I am so grateful you guys are here early. Laylah can you get her into her makeup right now, once you’re done coffee would have arrived by then so first dips for you both.”

“Hey I made the call to that company,” Mr. Miller objects, “I should get first dibs over them.” He pouts.

“You’ll drink about anything with caffeine in it man.” Frankie shakes his shoulders.

Their banter makes you happy, all of them being able to work together makes the performing arts world ten times better.

“Ok head off, go get all beautified.” Ms Roylace shoos you both away, “And hey Morales? Go with them to update them for the night.”

His face drops and you laugh under your breath, turning away with Laylah going to the dressing rooms where the makeup would be.

You make your way into the room, admiring all the signatures over the walls, the wigs on the shelves and beautiful products you would never have the money to buy. You sit in the chair and clean your face with a soothing toner, clawing your hair pack for Laylah.

Frankie walks in and you look at him through the mirror, smiling so hard you knew the crinkle from eyes would be permanent all night.

“Evenin ladies, I wanted to let you know that I called some people to watch the show tonight, we’ll have a little audience. Hope that doesn’t frighten you.”

“If I may ask,” Laylah inquires as she starts rubbing your face with moisturizer, “Who will be in this audience.”

“I wanted Timothee to come back with some of his co-stars from the French Dispatch to come.”

You immediately choke on your saliva, remembering why you met Timothee in the first place. You open your eyes to see his smirk.

“Any tips for tonight to impress our impending crowd, Mr Morales?” You tilt your head in his direction.

“Be yourself, you’ll dazzle them all. Don’t worry darlin.” He tangles his arms together, “Hey Laylah, put that gold glitter all over her collar bones, I think we should do that tonight. The blood with the glitter will react with her skin well.”

“I like your thinking,” Laylah rummages through the boxes, “I found it!” They cheer.

“Now grab a bowl, dump a spoon of glitter with liquid highlighter, and after set with hairspray on her chest. That’ll make it stay all night.”

As Laylah flicks the glitter over your collar bones, covering up most of your tattoos and spraying Lady Macbeth over your body, Frankie gazing over you. The glitter makes you a trophy. He was so soft, explaining everything to them.

You noticed how hard he was with his students, he had this front to him that was horrible to break. But once you got to work with him, got to know him and understand his tough love thought process, he was like that to make you work harder. You appreciate him so much. You were surprised how he never had children of his own, he knew parental parameters so well. His delicacy turned you on, in reality he was really touchable to everyone.

“All done.” They spink you towards Frankie, “It’s beautiful on you.”

He caught his breath, “Gorgeous.” And his eyes never leave you.

“I’m gonna continue her makeup if you don’t mind.” They smile at him and you smack yourself in the head, that was definitely awkward for Laylah. He gets up and leaves with no explanation.

They pause, “So you gonna tell me what the fuck that was about?”

“No comment.” You smirk.

“After tonight, you-me, The Bear, and you’re fucking tellin me what’s going on.” They shake their head

“Deal.”

----------

You were given your cue to walk on stage, it was your final dress rehearsal, you were in Lady Macbeth's gown and makeup, your hair was done and you were in more character than ever.

As soon as you were on the stage alone, you could feel the presence of these important people. You could see Timothee’s curly hair in your eyesight. When you walked up to the apron of the stage to deliver your first monologue you could feel the personality of Saoirse Ronan. You could feel the life of Wes Anderson in front of you, you can feel the scarcity of Adrien Brody. This was your only opportunity to impress- you can not fuck it up.

You move through your dialogue, making sure to slow down. As an actor, you have to anticipate, and live through the character vicariously.

Just as you had done during your audition, just like rehearsals, you dig through your mind of every piece of advice you had been given to complete this character. Before the show was set to start, you listened to rain. You listened to women screaming for their lives, shaking from the decibels resonating through your head.

You and Mattias moved through the stage carefully, and when it was time for your death monologue, you felt the strength to scream, you felt your throat viling up to convulse. You thought of your mom’s phone call. You thought of your father, the tone of voice he had with your mother. You felt the syrupy blood that was thrown on you before hand seeping through your clothes, all over your face. Dripping from your fingertips, your character wanted vengeance, she wanted a life. You wanted a life. Your scream filled the entire theater. You wanted it to hurt your throat, you liked the threading dull pain it felt in your throat. This wasn’t acting anymore, this was you purely on the stage. You weren’t mad that you didn’t save your throat, Mr. Miller can take it up with you for another day.

Finishing the end, you sleep walk off stage, ending your final collapse. Gasping, flinching for air. You could contort your body so easily in a character role, it almost freaked you out. Never realizing how inflicting pain on yourself for something, or at least acting like it, was memorable in your heart.

You get pulled off stage by a crew member, walking off to your dressing room to clean yourself up. Applauded on the way from the tech crew, you felt relieved that it was finally over. Your first real performance would be the next day.

You turned the corner and the, already smirking in the mirror. Frankie sitting in your chair.

“That was,” He rubs his chin, “That was different.” Looking at his heavy eyes, you both were tired.

You shrug, “It was.” The fake blood was seeping off your body, “I think I hurt my voice.”

“It felt too real, c’mere, come sit on my lap.” He leans back in the chair, “And lock the door.”

“Frankie, they’ll see the blood on you and what if they need you in the booth?” You shudder.

“They’ll fuckin survive, I wanna be with my girl and I’m wearing black clothes.”

He reaches his arms out, pulling you in close. The dress you were wearing was beyond thick at the bottom.“You never cease to amaze me, they all couldn’t stop talking about you.”

You sit on his thighs, he tucked loose strands of hair behind your ears, heart beating faster than ever, “How do you know?” You ask, head falling underneath his chin.

“I sat with them for your scenes, I left the crew in the booth. They should have it down by now anyway. That Anderson man was shocked how loud you can scream.”

“You’re saying that to make me feel better.” You laugh.

“No beautiful, they all couldn't take their eyes off you. You upstage Mattias a lot in your scenes and they couldn’t stop talking about how beautiful you are.” He hums.

“Liar,” You shut your eyes, inhaling his usual intoxicating scent. The room was small enough that being there for minutes you could only smell him. He starts to kiss your neck, getting the blood all over his face.

“Frankie, we need to go before we get caught,” You start to shove him off, “ or before bows.”He pulls you back down immediately, “We have time, I promise.”

He wraps his arms around you, lacing his hands on the bodice of your dress.

“You look perfect in this, the fabric and beading of it is so intricate.” He traces the middle seam of the bodice, moving up all the way to your chest, loosening the ties to the corset top.

“Frankie, what do you think you’re doing? It took three people to get me into this.”

“Let me make you feel good, I know you’re tired sweet girl, always workin so hard.” You straighten up against him, he always knew how to sugar coat your brain.

“Bring the dress over your head, let me see you.” You do as he says, lifting off his lap, moving the tulle and silk layers away from your legs up to your head. He grabs it over your head throwin it on the floor, leaving you in your basics that practically looked like lingerie. You had on sheer black tights that showed your tattoos, and your basics couldn't leave much to the imagination. You were glad you hadn’t worn rags underneath this, you were lucky that no fake blood got on any of it either.

“Wearin this for me?” He mutters, “Who knew that basics underneath a costume could be so promiscuous, huh?” He kisses your arm, trailing back up to your neck, almost whimpering when he leaves your skin to breathe.

“I have much more to wear for you, Frankie.” You breathe.

His mind goes blank, getting to see you in such delicate clothing that you liked was a world phenomena. “Well, I have a surprise for you after the show tomorrow.” He coos, “Been waiting to show you for a while.”

“You can’t tell me now?” You close your eyes, leaning back behind his head. His hands lingering near your lower stomach. What does a suprise mean to him?

“That would ruin all the fun, sweetheart.” He purrs. He was being so soft with you, taking care of you after such a long week of working. You squirm against him, of course heat was growing beneath you. You could feel the padded fabric enclosing your pussy go damp. If you lifted yourself off of his leg, there would be a pool beneath you. Frankie has this power over you that couldn’t be controlled. You noticed today he was wearing tighter jeans than usual, his bulge being so prominent that nothing could hide it.

“Keep movin darlin, I can feel that soaked pussy pulsating on my leg.”

“You want me to- you want me to keep rubbing-?” You mumble.

“Don’t be embarrassed, pretty girl, use my leg. Move those hips back and forth on my thigh and get yourself off.”

Your brain short circuits and before you can do anything, his fingers pull your nipples, delicately circling them. He watches you tick, back almost giving out.

You start to move up and down, bracing your hands on his knee for stability. You couldn’t get enough friction, the padding of your underwear keeping you away from him. You drag a hand to your clothed cunt, pulling aside your underwear, exposing yourself on his thick muscle. Feeling his body hug you, you clamp down on him. Your clit flutters against the perfect spot on his jeans.

“Dirty girl, pussy out in the open. That’s my girl. Keep rubbin, keep fuckin soakin my leg.”

The bulge of his quad muscle working against your core had you shrieking. He wraps a hand around your mouth.

“You can’t be loud honey, and that voice needs to rest. Think you can be quiet for me?”

“Nh- Frankie- feel’s good. Your leg is so- so thick.” Your gasps are muffled by his hand, your eyes crossing from the pleasure. The weight of his hand on your face makes you crack.

“That’s right pretty girl, rub on my leg like it’s my cock. So beautiful when you’re gettin yourself off on me. I can watch this all my life baby.” He brushes his face into your hair. Sweat was building all over your body, you were beyond flushed, and you were getting goosebumps on how this orgasm felt too different.

It felt slower, but the anticipation of it all was driving you fucking crazy. His hand covering your mouth, and his arm holding you down felt like gold. Your orgasm hitting you so painfully that if he didn’t hold you back, you would’ve screamed your head off, convulsing from the rippling of your muscles intermixing with his.

You could breathe perfectly through your nose, chest heaving but never forgetting how good this felt for you. You fall back into him, laying limp.

“Baby, was that too much? You’re silent-was I holding you down too tight, can you breathe-” He rushes.

“Can I breathe? Frankie that was amazing. Your so fucking strong, I needed you to hold me back, “ You weave your hands through his hair, “So fucking strong, fuck.”

You thought of him, fucking you. You riding him and him pulling you down onto you. You craved that moment. You were beyond blissed out.

“Just tie me down and fuck me already Frankie.” You relish.

“You’d like that, huh?”

You nod seductively, you’re fucking ready to do anything with him.

“Jesus girl, that mouth’s gonna get you in trouble.” He laughs.

"Let it, wanna do everything with you.” You crash your lips with his, you mean every word. Your heart swells when you're around him now.

You get up from his lap, shakily looking for the clothes you came to the theater with. You look into the mirror, the blood smeared all over your neck. Frankie laughs that he has it all over his face from kissing you.

You check your phone, it was 20 minutes after your death scene, bows.

“Frankie, bows are any minute!” You panic

He finds the closest wipes, rubbing the blood off. The only noticeable stain on him now was on his jeans. Nobody could possibly know, right?

You open your door slowly, checking to see if the coast is clear for you both to walk out. You pull his arm with you, quickly rushing out of the dressing area.

You guys get back to the stage, holding hands with him in the dark, leading you off. You hurry to get to your spot in the line, taking bow with your castmates, channeling the biggest smile in your face. Squeezing Mattias’s hand, the perfect duo on stage.

A row of accomplished faces in front of you steer into roars, all your worries run away. Your standing ovation from them was minutes.

The lights go back to normal and everyone's hugging each other. After so long working on this show, everything is paying off.

Timothee runs up the stairs to the stage giddishly, weaving through the cast, to come up and hug you. You gasp, you can’t believe that he remembers who you are.

“I mean I saw you in that monologue, but fuck man,” He prods, “You’re amazing. Frankie was right.”

You smile stupidly, uncanny that he knows you because of Frankie. “None of you had to come, I mean this is too much.” Timothee hugs Mattias and you two feel like children at Disney World.

“Man they wanted to, I said I was going to see a friend of mines show,” He whispers under hsi breath, “That his girl is gonna be on broadway you asshole- on fucking broadway,” He yells, “And they all wanted to tag along after a long day of filming and dealing with busy people.”

You can see all of them talking to Frankie in the corner, bracing yourself as they move closer to you in a group, slightly hiding behind Mattias.

“And this is your Macbeth and Lady Macbeth.” Frankie introduces you.

You all shake hands and exchange names, butterflies killing your stomach.

“I just wanted to say, thank you all for coming to see the show, this is more than I could have ever dreamt of.” You blurt.

Wes not saying much, smiling and partially shy.

“Please, this was a delight to see. Up and coming talent is the most important.” Saoirse hugs you, her Irish accent so thick.

Adrien pats Frankie on the shoulder, “We knew this man made a perfect set, but you actors are gonna put us out of jobs.” He says, such a hot man. You couldn’t breath with all this talent and beautiful people around you.

“Where you both from?” Adrien asks.

“I'm from the Bronx and she’s from North Carolina.” Mattias points at you.

“Ah, the Carolinas. Like it there?” He asks.

“It was alright, treated me well. Not much to do but it’s pretty.” It was such a pretty state.

“We had to go film there for a scene in a museum, it was a scene for Timothee. Have you been to the art museum?” Wes pipes up, surprised that he was even talking to you.

“Yes I have!” You nod, “I think that’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever been.”

“Wait til you go to Europe, your mind will explode.” Timothee adds.

You think about it, “If I may ask, was there anything that you all saw that I, or we both could work on?”

“No, don’t change anything. This is beautiful. Beautifully casted. You both work so well together, and the dialogue is magnificent. And you, I mean that scream blew all our eardrums out.” Saoirse says.

TImothee and Adrien agree.

“I would, “ Wes moves closer to you both, “Shake your legs, and breathe. Look at me.” You and Mattias do as the strange man says, “ How do you feel, exactly every word in your head.”

“Scared and nervous to be around people like you, my hearts gonna burst and my words could slur and strew together.” Mattias spits.

Frankie coughs.

“And you?” Wes turns.

You nod fast, motioning to everything Mattias said.

“That’s the thing. It doesn’t matter if there's people like us in the crowd. We are ordinary people in the crowd. We are nobodies. You two are the stars of the show, so feel like it.” His funky smile shows.

The stress falls off your shoulder in an instant, feeling Mattias’s relief.

“Everythings gonna be okay, you two. Nothing to worry about.” Frankie pulls you and Mattias in for a hug. Hand falling to your lower back.

------

You made it back to your suite, Hannah and Rose already asleep, but Laylah not failing to go through her word with a self care night.

She bombards you when you walk through the door, “What's going on with you and Mr. Morales? Why was he being so awkward? You have to tell me please please please…”

“Get off me.” You giggle, “They can't hear this.”

They settle on their bed, handing you a sheet mask and a cup of lemon tea.

“You pinky swear, I mean Laylah this can end both of us, if I tell you. You can’t tell anyone. No one, not even the boy you were with.”

“I promise with my life, I will never tell anyone.” Crossing their fingers with yours.

“I don’t know just that night at the club, he was there with all the other teachers, and he saw me. I went to the bathroom and things just started to happen..”

“No need for the details,” They shake you, “ But what the actual fuck! So the eyes at the beginning of the year were real!”

“They were real… that picture he posted, the one you guys were talking about in the group chat was me.”

“No fucking way, what the fuck.” She whispers

“Trust me I know, I didn’t know what to say, and he just did it and I had to act dumb in the group chat.”

“You fucking bitch, the whole time it was you and you knew!”

“I know I’m a criminal, I can’t help it,” Sipping on your tea, “But it’s all so new you know. We’ve both been so busy with everything and trying to stay away from the public together and yeah, all so new.”

“Andd…”

“And what?”

“Are you guys dating? Fucking?”

“No, and not yet. I mean we're monogamous, we're only seeing each other right now but it's all so risky and we graduate in less than a year, wherever I go he can’t follow me. I’m happy with where we’re both at right now. And imagine people find out Laylah, I would never be casted again and he’d be fired. It would look like I’m fucking my way to the top when I’m not.” You huff, the whole situation works you up.

“You’re smart, do not let this get in the way of loving him. The way he was staring at you today. They way he said he’d check on you in the booth a couple weeks ago, he’s in it deep.”

“God I’d hope so.” You fucking hope so.

——-

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allwaswell16 · 18 days ago

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I'm so sorry, but for the first time in 5 years, I just don't have it in me to do an episode of Fanfictional this month. If possible, I'll be back with a new episode next month. But I do want to acknowledge the wonderful One Direction fics I read this month as well as some I revisited for comfort. Thank you so much to these amazing fic writers who have entertained me or given me some respite. For more new fics, check out this month's fic roundup here

- Louis / Harry -

🧡 Stand on Holy Ground (series) by @wishingforloushair

(E, 17k, religion kink) Louis comes back to confess again, and Harry has an idea of how Louis can show God his devotion.

🧡 My Spiteful Ballerina by sweetkalachuchi / @neverforpickles

(M, 7k, omegaverse) Four times Harry wanted an explanation of Louis' hatred toward him, and one time Louis gives in, in Louis' fashion.

🧡 Die Without the Taste of You by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28

(E, 6k, part 2 of Vampire Harry/Human Louis One Shots) the one where human Louis might push his vampire boyfriend a little too far, but it works out in the end

🧡 Ain't a Drop of Bad Blood by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28

(E, 4k, part 3 of Vampire Harry/Human Louis One Shots) the one where human Louis is being haunted by a spirit, and he's reluctant to ask his vampire boyfriend for help

🧡 Alone and Back Again by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(T, 4k, omegaverse) what does one do when a feral alpha shows up in town ready to be executed?

🧡 The Shadow by babyhoneyhslt / @babyhoneyheslt

(G, 666 words, dark Louis) Harry should've listened. He should've stayed inside.

- Rare Pairs -

🧡 That's Happiness To Me by @louislittletomlintum

(E, 24k, Zayn/Louis/Liam) Louis’ mind was whirring. He’d wanted to try and get with Liam tonight, but now a new, better idea was forming. Getting Liam with Zayn, if possible, would be something of a dream come true.

🧡 It’s a Craving Not a Crush by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28

(E, 9k, Liam/Louis) the one where Liam and Louis are best bros who end up getting married so that Liam has the insurance he needs to go to rehab. Now that he’s sober, they can get divorced. But do they want to?

🧡 I'm the Big Fish by @lululawrence

(NR, 5k, Louis/Pedro Pascal) After an awkward moment at a party he wasn't actually invited to, Louis keeps running into the incredibly attractive Pedro Pascal. Somehow, it's Pedro who manages to keep making a fool of himself

🧡 Spirits by itsraininginengland / @ilovellama14

(E, 4k, Louis/Oscar Isaac) Edwardian music hall performer Louis Tomlinson meets the newest act in the show, the American magician Oscar Isaac. Romance, smut and a seance ensue.

🧡 Ci Ci Leu by @persephoneflouwers

(M, 3k, Louis & His Band) Written for the prompt «bread van fic reimagined with all the guys in Louis’ band».

🧡 Glitz, Glammer, Top Hats, Cigars and Suits by @rockstarlwt28

(NR, 3k, Louis/Dominic Harrison (Yungblud) When Isla found a love for the melody formed by a strumming of strings, Louis didn't expect to fall equally in love with his daughter’s guitar teacher, Dominic Harrison.

🧡 I regret you all the time by @disgruntledkittenface

(E, 2k, Louis/Prince William) Louis’ friends don’t understand, and they wouldn’t even if he explained. But every time William texts, Louis drops everything to go see him.

- For Comfort -

🧡 You're Not My Type (still I fall) by Imogenlee / @imogenleewriter

(M, 38k, omegaverse) This is just a bit of rain; it'll blow over. Then Harry will just... well, alright, he isn't entirely sure what to do when the rain stops because he'll still be stuck and lost.

🧡 The Journal by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou, RecycledStardust / @wait4ever

(G, 14k, soulmates au) When Harry finds himself purchasing an antique journal in the ancient bookshop of a town he’s never heard of, he doesn’t exactly want to admit that he has no idea how he got there.

🧡 Just Your Jinx by @larryatendoftheday

(T, 10k, witch au) Harry Styles may or may not have accidentally jinxed his extremely fit new neighbor, and it's not so easy to make things right.

🧡 Court Wine by @enchantedlandcoffee , red_panda28 / @red-pandaaa

(T, 7k, omegaverse) after a misunderstanding during a scrabble game, Alpha Louis starts courting Omega Harry without the latter being aware of it.

🧡 Have Me And Hold Me by @letsjustsee

(NR, 5k, established relationship) a wedding day AU in which Louis will let nothing stand in the way of a perfect day - especially a little rain.

🧡 Good-Old Fashioned Lover Boy by not_fitzwilliam / @not-fitzwilliam-darcy

(NR, 5k, omegaverse) When a miscalculated decision leads to an accidental courtship with the sweetest, most gentle alpha, Harry is torn between breaking the alpha's heart and telling the truth.

🧡 Pretty and Preposterous by @brightlyharry

(NR, 5k, neighbors) Harry donates a copy of Pride and Prejudice to his little free library. He never expects what comes next.

🧡 Stealing Flowers by @lululawrence

(NR, 4k, meet cute) the one where Louis pines after the Sexy Stranger on the Subway and almost asks him out. That's when the strange posters start showing up around Brooklyn.

🧡 Choo-Choose Me by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

(G, 3k, Liam/Louis) Liam is a commuter with a crush. Louis is the chirpy ticket inspector who occasionally mans the drinks trolley and sometimes makes announcements, his broad Yorkshire accent fighting the outdated train speakers.

#ficrec #1dsquad #1dficvillage #1dficlibrary #28th appreciation

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wardenparker · 12 days ago

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Bones Full of Words, Epilogue

Javier Peña x plus size reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

“He pleaded so much that he lost his voice. His bones began to fill with words.” ― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

He has no idea that once she has walked fully into his life, he will be battling with himself over whether or not he should stop her from walking out it of again.

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 8.4k Warnings: Cursing, alcohol, food/eating, talk of weight or size, domestic fluff, sass, married flirting, pregnancy, childbirth Summary: Thanksgiving time has come again, but the Peñas are in for more than just a nice meal this year. Notes: It has been such an amazing journey following these two through their love story! We hope you've enjoyed it as much as we have 🧡🧡

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12

There is nothing unusal at all about the dog being the first one to spot the car, but you're still slightly startled by the commotion when the hound in the living room starts howling to sound the alarm. After that it's the two kids who come scrambling out of their room and bounding down the stairs screaming "Daddy's home!" as if he had been gone more than just a few hours.

The whole brigade has sounded the alarm, and you can't help but grin.

Hearing the dog barking and the kids scrambling around in the house before he ever even hits the door, Javi is chuckling as he grabs the deli bag and his bag filled with papers he will need to read sometime over the holiday break. “Shit.” He hisses, turning back to the car to grab the drink carrier, knowing you would be disappointed if you didn’t get your root beer.

"Boys, you have to let your Dad into the house!" You call, coming out from the kitchen with a dishrag in hand. You had been chopping enough onions to sink a ship and washing the smell off your hands was extremely necessary.

“It’s okay!” Javi calls out, although it’s a juggling act to keep the drinks from spilling as the two exuberant kids launch themselves at him.

"You're going to fall over, babe." It is okay, though, and you're both laughing even as you reach forward over two young boys, one ambling basset hound, and a seven-month pregnant belly to grab multiple bags from his hands. "How was class?"

Javi snorts. “Half the class didn’t show up.” He chuckles. “I don’t blame them, I wouldn’t show up either.” He admits, knowing he had wished he was home with you and the boys rather than sitting in his lecture hall. “‘Professor Peña, whhhhyyyy do we have to do reading over the break?’” he pitches his voice up and imitates one of his students. “I really don’t give a shit if they read it or not, but they annoyed me so I assigned it.”

“Your reading list always makes for interesting dinner conversations, I’m sure.” There’s a grin on your face when he leans over to kiss you then head to switch gears immediately to catch your younger son as he launches himself into daddy’s arms. “It’s Steve’s book isn’t it?”

“Of course it is.” He flashes you a grin before he turns his attention back to his youngest child. “Were you good for mama today?” He asks, knowing that he is the mirror copy of a young Javier. So the answer is probably no.

“Yeah!” Your youngest affirms his innocence wholeheartedly, but you roll your eyes playfully.

“Come on boys, Daddy brought home lunch for everybody so let’s wash up.” It earns Javi another grateful kiss from you, since tuna sandwiches from the shop over by UGA campus are your new pregnancy craving. A tuna sandwich on their toasted oat bread, loaded with veggies and American cheese, with an ice cold root beer. He’s brought you home that same lunch every day for a week, and today he brought lunch for him and the boys too.

After the capture of the Rodriguez brothers and the take down of the entire Cali Cartel, Javier had been told his services were no longer needed in the DEA. Which was fine with him because he was going to tell them to go fuck themselves. He had thought about going back to Laredo, and you did for a month or so, but then a teaching position for criminal justice and political science became available at a respectable college and he took it. It only took two year for the University of Georgia to recruit him for their staff.

The blue house on the edge of campus with its white-trim windows and fenced-in yard has been your home ever since he took the job. The boys have started their lives here despite your oldest being born just before you left Colombia, and when they begged for a puppy last year it had been a beautiful basset puppy waiting for them under the tree on Christmas morning that really tied the bow on this being home.

“How are you and my baby girl doing?” After setting Oscar down to run after his brother, Javier pulls you by the waist to him, his hand moving to rub your stomach lovingly. He adores when you are pregnant and it’s especially sweet since you decided this was the last baby, and a little girl.

"We are not big fans of onions today." You grimace, knowing that it could be worse but that it feels like it's the only thing you've done all morning since getting the boys settled in their playroom. "But Marco came up wtih a new name he wanted to add to the list." The notepad on the refrigerator is where you keep the ongoing list of baby name ideas, and every once in a while the boys or another family member will contribute an idea as well. It was Chucho who ended up naming Oscar, and your brothers had pitched the name Marco originally. Names have become something of a family effort.

“Oh?” Javi hums, impressed by his excitement for the little sister due in February. “What did he come up with?”

The smirk on your face says you know Javi won't be as excited for long, considering his son's current favorite movie. "He would like to name his baby sister Donkey."

“That fucking movie” Javi closes his eyes and sighs, hating the fact he had taken Marco to see Shrek. Even though he loves it better than any other movie in the world. “Please tell me you didn’t write it down?”

"Oh no, I didn't." Your grin turns shit-eating as you point to the refrigerator where Marco's large, shaky handwriting clearly spells out the word and takes up four times as much room as any other name. "He asked to write it himself."

“Well I hate to burst his bubble…” Javi snorts at the slanted handwriting and the misspelled Donky written on the board. “We will not be naming our baby girl that.”

"Of course not." And that is where your expression turns fond again, shaking your head at your oldest baby but proud of him for wanting to contribute to a big family decision. "But I love that he's thinking about it."

“God.” He snorts, grinning at the antics of his children, but like you, he’s proud of them. “So no onions today, huh? Made you gassy?”

"The smell made me sick first thing," you admit. After washing your hands with the kids, the four of you can sit down at the table to have your lunch. "But I powered through. I don't even want to think about the chaos tomorrow would be if I couldn't make stuffing because of an onion aversion."

“You should have let me handle it when I got home.” He frowns at you, huffing slightly. “I know I can’t cook like you, but I can follow directions passably well.”

"I know you can, babe." The smell of tuna is like a balm over your senses when you unwrap your sandwich and you sigh happily. "But you have to go to the airport tonight to pick up our parents, remember?"

“I can do both.” He knows you want to have the perfect holiday, it’s just how you are. Even the few times you had thrown dinner parties in Colombia, you had wanted everything to be just so. Of course you want a family holiday to be perfect. “Let me help you. I know you’ve got to be tired.”

"I've got a plan." Having the biggest house out of your siblings after everyone had settled down and being the first one with kids has meant that the Peña residence in Athens, Georgia is now family holiday headquarters. While you love it, it is also a lot of work, so you've been working on creating a system. "Once everybody gets here this afternoon there will be plenty of childcare and Michael's wife insisted they're getting pizza and salad for everybody for dinner tonight. Paper plates and plastic cups so we don't make more work for ourselves. At that point there will be lots of helping hands and the work will go a lot faster."

“Beer is in the back of the car.” He had picked that up on the way to the deli you love. Thanksgiving wouldn’t be Thanksgiving without some Budweiser while watching the football game. Although he makes sure everything is done and you are sitting beside him before he sits down.

"Perfect. Thank you, cariño." Having a partner for a husband feels like it sets you apart from the other faculty wives that you end up spending time with, but not in ways that you're upset about. While the other ladies are rightfully bitching about how their husbands don't help out around the house or don't do their part with the kids, you tend to just keep your mouth shut. Javier is always there to support you and share the workload, helping to raise the boys as their other parent and not as a third, older child you constantly have to prod at. Right now is a prime example of it, as he gets the boys set up with their shared sandwich so that you can dig in to your lunch right away.

Javi moves to pour the kids juice into their cups. Marco has a Shrek cup and Oscar with his favorite Barney cup and then he cracks open a ginger ale for himself. The days of starting to drink right after coming home are long past him and he doesn’t miss it as much as he might have expected.

"So, Papa's flight lands at 3:00 this afternoon and Grammy's lands at 3:15." You managed to work the flight times out for both of your parents to come in at the best possible time. "Joey and his wife want to rent a car so they'll get down here on their own after they land, and Michael decided to road trip from Chattanooga so they'll probably be in last even though they're aiming for the same time as everyone else." Coordinating the families does take a little work as they grow, but it's work that you're all willing to put in. Especially so all the kids can spend time with their cousins a few times every year and really get to know each other.

“Okay.” He nods and smirks. “I would have driven to Atlanta to pick them up, but I’m happy as hell I don’t have to.” Both his father and your mom opted to fly into the smaller, local airports so they can be with their grandchildren faster.

"It worked out, thank god." The boys are currently engrossed in a conversation about something Saturday-morning-cartoon related that you can't quite catch, so with the first few bites of your sandwich you enjoy the relative peace. They'll be up early tomorrow to see every second of the Macy's parade so any peace you get today is wonderful. "And I am not grappling with your dad's addiction to pecan pie this year. I ordered one from the bakery along with the apple. Homemade pie crust is officially my nemesis."

Javi chuckles and nods. “Good choice” He teases. “Do I need to go brave the stores for anything else?”

"At this point, if we don't have it, it's not ending up on the Thanksgiving table." And that's the final word as far as you're concerned. "The last thing is picking up the pies, and my sisters-in-law already offered to make that trip tonight for us." You smirk, knowing your brothers' soulmates fairly well at this point. It's only been a few years but you're a tight knit family. "If they're willing to do the last errand, I'm not going to begrudge them getting out of the noisy house for a half hour later on."

“Damnit, she figured out why I always make the last run.” Javi grumbles, but he winks at you playfully. He actually enjoys when the house is in chaos and noisy. Far different from his own solitude for so many years. He’s less in his own head these days.

"Big time." You grin at him, stifling your laughter by having another bite of lunch. "You're the one who wanted a big house, babe. The price we pay is being the holiday house."

"I don't mind it." He had insisted the kids all be able to have their own rooms and he had wanted you to have a dedicated office as well as him. That required a big house.

As it does so often with him now, your smile softens at the edges. "I don't either. And it's going to be even nicer not having to bundle three kids into the car or onto a plane a couple of times a year to see family."

"Well, we had already agreed that the kids having their holidays at home was the most important thing." He reminds you. "Luckily our parents agreed and are willing to come to us."

"Marco gave us that privilege," you remind him, glancing over at your boys. "My mother would have flown to Timbuktu to see her first grandbaby."

"That's true." Your mother had been upset when you hadn't wanted her to come to Colombia for the last month of your pregnancy and the birth. She had flown to Texas to meet him as soon as the three of you had returned to the States.

“And honestly I’m glad that we’re close enough for your dad to get here without much trouble.” Chucho is still pretty spry for his age but that doesn’t mean you aren’t grateful for the quick flights between Laredo and Athens.

"I think dad enjoys flirting with the flight attendants." Javi jokes, shooting you a smirk.

“Probably,” you agree, smirking even though you shake your head. Chucho isn’t the kind of guy who would make trouble, so it’s harmless as long as the attendants don’t mind. “Gives the waitresses at his bar a break.”

"He's asked about your mother a lot." He waggles his brows suggestively. "We might have to put bells on our parents at night. Make sure they stay in their rooms."

“Nothing could be weirder.” The look of absolute confusion and discomfort in your face is immediate. “Our family tree does not need to tangle that way.”

He laughs at the abject horror in your eyes and reaches over to squeeze your knee under the table. "I'm teasing, sweetheart." He promises. "Pop asks about your mom, but only in a friendly kind of way." He can't be offended at your reaction, he would have the same kind of instinct if he heard something like that.

“Oh thank god.” You huff, trying to recompose yourself. “I know we live in the south. But we don’t need to be a stereotype.”

He huffs again, amused as you continue to shake your head. "Pop has started seeing another widow, someone from that support group you turned him on to." He had never really thought about his dad needing to talk to other widowers who had lost their soulmates, but you had seen it. Another reason he loves how you have folded into his life so perfectly. You softened his rough edges and noticed the unspoken needs of both of the Peña men.

“Oh good!” That seems to wipe the other thought clean from your mind. “I mean I didn’t show him those groups thinking he’d start dating, just that having some friends who went through what he did would be good for him.”

"Mama wouldn't have wanted him to be alone for the rest of his life." That he knows, having discussed it with her when it had become clear she wasn't beating her cancer. She had known that Javier could and would hold a grudge if he had thought it was disrespectful to her memory. So she had made her wishes clear to her only son. "It is good for him. He said he feels like a kid again."

“I wish we had known before.” Having devoted half your sandwich already, you reach for your soda. “I would’ve have invited her, too. Though in sure she has her own family to see.”

"She is visiting her grandchildren." He nods. "Although pop said he might ask us to come out to Texas this summer to meet her?"

“Absolutely.” That sounds just like your father-in-law. Chucho plans for the long term much better than short term in all areas of his life. “By then our little girl should be okay to travel a bit.”

Javi grins. "I think that was his plan. Show off his newest grandbaby."

“Donkey!” Marco supplies cheerily, having heard his mother say the word girl.

Javi rolls his eyes and sighs heavily while you giggle. "I'm glad you think this is funny." He huffs quietly.

“I have final veto naming rights on anything that comes out of my body,” you remind him with a smug grin. “Of course I think it’s funny.”

"Thank God for that." He rolls his eyes again and gets up when he sees your drink is finished to get you a glass of water.

“You won’t be saying that if I name her something ridiculous in a fit of sleepless silliness.”

"I don't think you want to give our daughter a name that will embarrass her." He points out and licks his lips before voicing something that he's been thinking about since finding out that that baby is a girl. "Is it strange or inappropriate that I was thinking about Helena for a middle name?" He asks softly, watching you to gauge your reaction.

“Oh.” That makes you pause, but when he puts the glass of water down in front of you, you reach for his hand rather than the glass. “I—I actually think that’s so nice,” you admit with tears in your eyes. Though your contact with Helena has waned slightly in the years since she moved to America, you still send each other letters a few times a year to keep up. “Someone we both love dearly…I think that’s a very sweet gesture.”

“I—” he flounders slightly. “She is the reason we found each other.” He murmurs. “The reason we have this life, our children.”

"She is." He is completely correct, and you squeeze his hand tightly for just a brief moment. Now that he's suggested it, there is no other possibility in your mind. "Whatever we pick, it has to go with Helena."

Javi sighs softly, smiling at you before he leans down and presses his lips to yours. “I wasn’t sure how you would like the idea.” He admits. After all, both of you had slept with her, so it could have been a horrible idea in your mind.

"I don't think it's a conventional decision, but we aren't very conventional people." Looking around the table, though, and then back up at him, you shrug. "At least, we didn't used to be."

He chuckles at that and shoots you a grin. “We have slipped into domesticity with surprising ease, haven’t we?” He asks you.

"We really have," you agree, leaning up to kiss him again when the phone on the wall rings.

"You stay there." Javi pulls back and points at you, knowing you would try to heft your pregnant belly out of the chair to rush over to the phone. "I’ll get it." He steps over to the phone and picks it up, reminding himself that he needs to get another cordless phone set so you can just carry one around. It would make it easier and the last one had been broken by the movers. "Peña residence." He answers.

“Hey mijo!” Chucho’s voice is cheery through the cracking connection of the cellphone that Javier had bought him to have while he traveled. “I just boarded and that gorgeous wife of yours said to call before I left Texas.”

“Hey pop.” He twists his body around and winks at you. “Yeah, she worries about you.” He tells his father while watching you. “Didn’t want you to get lost in the airport and miss Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Not a chance.” Chucho chuckles at that. “Tell my grandsons I’ll be there soon, okay?”

“They will be looking forward to it.” He promises and then hangs up the phone after Chucho says goodbye.

“Is Papa here?” Oscar asks hopefully, having heard his father refer to Pop and knowing that holidays mean his favorite family member in the whole world will be coming to play Spacemen with him.

“He will be in just a few hours.” Javi lifts a brow. “If you take a nap, he will be here as soon as you wake up and you will have allllllll the energy to play.” He’s not above making a nap sound like a good thing. Not if it lets you get a nap while he’s gone to pick up the parents.

"All done!" Your youngest announces with an enormous amount of ceremony, pushing away his plate – which actually is empty – and throwing up his hands as it was proof of having finished his lunch.

“Good job, buddy.” Fatherhood has taught Javier a patience he never knew he could have, and he’s been rewarded for it. His boys are already far better than he ever was and he knows they will only become better men than he ever could claim to be.

Getting the boys down for a nap is one of Javier’s best Dad chores, but when he comes back down twenty-five minutes later with the baby monitor in hand you both breathe a sigh of relief. “They missed you this morning,” you tell him, smiling softly over the kitchen clean up. “So did I.”

He hums, knowing that he had missed them too. “Too bad I can’t just lecture from my office.” He shrugs, moving over to where you are rinsing the glasses and softly shooing you out of the way. “Go sit sweetheart.” He huffs. “I know your back is hurting.”

"I won't fight you on that." Your back was a bit of an issue with your second pregnancy so you know Javi is being extra watchful this time around. The balance is good, though. Otherwise you would just go-go-go as much as possible.

“I know you didn’t get any writing done between the kids being out of school and prepping for tomorrow.” He talks as he continues the chore and loads the dishwasher beside the sink. “But how’s the chapter coming along?”

“Honestly I’m a little blocked,” you admit, leaning back in your chair and sighing at the slight relief on your back and belly. “I’m hoping that focusing on family this weekend shakes some words loose.”

“They will come.” He knows that. You are too good of an author for words to fail you. “Anything else you need to prep tonight?” He asks.

“I can wait until more people get here and hand out prep jobs. We like sitting around the table and bitching while we work.” It’s practically a family pastime, if you’re honest. Which is why it’s so fun. “There’s a few things to do but we’ll manage okay.”

“Sooooo.” He closes the door to the dishwasher and stands straight, turning around while he wipes his hands in a dishrag. “What about a nap for mama?”

"Could." You agree, folding your hands under your belly to support the bump. "But Mama missed Daddy and wants to actually see him a little."

He smirks and pushes off the counter to move over and lean down for a kiss. “How about I lay down with you until I need to leave for the airport?” He offers. “I’ll even rub your back.”

"You tryin’ to get me into bed, Peña?" You raise one eyebrow at him and smirk, pointing to your belly. "That's what got us this in the first place."

He smirks again. “Oh I know.” He grunts. “I was there for the whole thing.” You are absolutely irresistible to him when you are pregnant, even more than normal. He loves you carrying his babies. Although, right now he’s simply trying to get you to rest. He worries about you taking on too much this late in the pregnancy.

"Okay, okay." It's not difficult to see the worry in this eyes, and you put up one hand in defeat. "Help me up, love? We can snuggle in bed until it's time for you to leave."

“Okay.” You gave in far too easily, telling him that you are more exhausted than he imagined.

“I’m okay.” At the top of the stairs he is practically cradling you and you kiss his cheek in reassurance. “It’s just third trimester, that’s all.”

“I’m going to worry.” He’s good at that, but the worry over his family is far more meaningful than worrying about sicarios and drug dealers

“I know.” And just the fact of it brings a soft smile to your lips. “I love you, too.”

******

“You look amazing.” Your mother beams at you, eager to see her glowing daughter happy in your last months of pregnancy. “You’re carrying low, I’m so surprised it was a little girl on the ultrasound.” She teases. “What are you going to do if she was hiding a little thingy?” She works as she asks, filling the little tartlets that will be the appetizers first thing.

“We’ll be just as happy to have another boy if it turns out that way.” You promise your mother. While she fills the ham and cheese tarts for the appetizer table, you’re making the stuffing for the mushroom caps, and on your other side your oldest brother is making his jalapeño popper dip.

“Oh I know you will.” She assures you. “Javier is a wonderful father and you make me so proud.” Her voice cracks up a little, looking over into the living room where Chucho is keeping the boys entertained and Javier is diligently cleaning up when one of the boys had broken the rule of ‘no drinks in the living room’ and spilled it on the carpet in his excitement to see his family. “You have an amazing little family.”

“It won’t be so little pretty soon.” Michael’s soulmate, your sister-in-law Maria, reminds the table happily. Being in her first trimester with their first baby, she is sharing in the joy of pregnancy very happily. “Five counts as a big family, I think.”

“Not as big as some, but nowadays some couples are only have one child.” Your mother tuts, as if only having one child is an offense.

"Mom..." You shoot her a warning glance, reminding her silently that Javi is an only child. "All we care about is the kids being healthy and happy. One or two or three... it doesn't matter."

She grimaces and glances towards the living room, remembering that detail. She knows from talking to Chucho, they had wanted a big family. “You are right.” She quickly agrees. “Healthy.”

"Especially since this is the last one." Both of your families know that you're planning on a more permanent form of birth control for your family now. It didn't seem kind or reasonable to let your parents keep wondering if more and more grandkids would keep coming. "The only things I'm birthing after this little girl are books."

“How is your next book coming?” Her eyes widen with anticipation. “When I tell you, the book club is salivating over your last one, I mean they have extended the read.”

"I'm pretty sure your book club are my advanced sales every time," you laugh, grateful to your mother for all of her support in keeping your dreams alive and being just as proud of you as she possibly could be. Your family have really been your biggest cheerleaders. "This one is coming on a little more slowly."

"Pregnancy brain?" Your sister-in-law only half jokes. She's already experiencing some of that for herself.

"Absolutely." More laughter is shared at the table. "Pregnancy brain and being tired all the time."

Chucho ignores your protest and makes it a game, the boys competing for who can make mama the most comfortable.

"I was trying to prevent a fuss." Even though you direct the comment at your husband it seems to fall on deaf ears as everyone moves around again, and your other brother takes over making your mushroom recipe so you can go and lay down. Chucho and the boys have moved the pillows around the couch for you and while Marco is ready to give Mama and Baby Sis cuddles, Oscar has offered up his favorite teddy for your comfort as well. It's moments like those -- the most meaningful gestures from your young kids -- that tell you unquestionably that you and Javier are doing a good job. At their ages your boys have gotten past most struggles with sharing and have instead become compassionate kids who want everyone around them to be happy.

Javi grins as he brings you a Shirley Temple in a cup with a lid and straw. “You think a fuss wasn’t going to be made over you this weekend?” He huffs in amusement.

"I'm not the only pregnant woman in the house," you point out, gesturing toward your sister-in-law who is still sitting at the table.

“But I’m not as pregnant as you are.” She snorts, smirking when you huff. “You can cater to me when I’m about to pop, okay?”

"Thiry-two weeks still has a little way to go," you argue, though you sigh measurably when one of the couch throw pillows hits your back just right. It really is hell on the body to be pregnant, that's for damn sure.

“I hoping for a Christmas baby.” Your mother admits and Javi snorts, shaking his head. “Don’t put that on our baby girl.” He huffs playfully. “She would hate her birthday falling on a holiday where her brothers get gifts too.”

“Healthy and happy.” Michael recites your mantra for you, since you’re a little still trying to get comfortable. “But yeah, Ma. Don’t wish a Christmas birth on your grandkid. That’s hard for anybody.”

Your mother sighs softly and shrugs. “You’re right. I was just thinking about how wonderful the birthday pictures would be.” She admits with a laugh.

“What if we made a flower wreath for her, Mom?” You offer, setting it as nondenominational but evoking that beautiful celebration that she imagines. “An oval one big enough to lay her in for pictures?”

“That would be lovely!” Her eyes light up at the possibility. “She would look so beautiful.” The baby isn’t bore, but she already knows she will be the prettiest baby. “I loved your baby pictures.”

"And you'll love your granddaughter's too." Even through another wince, you have no problem promising your mother that. She has loved every picture of each of her grandkids and you know the next will be no exception.

Javi doesn’t notice this next pain since he’s walking back into the kitchen, but Chucho does. Glancing at you and then at his watch discreetly. “Boys, I think it’s time for bed.” He announces after a moment. “Do you want to say goodnight to everyone?”

Marco and Oscar go around giving good night hugs and kisses to everyone individually before Chucho volunteers to bring them upstairs and go through their nighttime routine with them. He always brings a new book of kids stories with him whenever he visits and this is no exception, so doubtless he'll read them a brand new bedtime story tonight as well.

Javi fixes everyone else drinks, another Shirley Temple for your sister-in-law and wine for Michael and your mother. He cracks open a beer for himself, but he doesn’t take a drink yet, waiting for his pop to come back downstairs.

When Chucho does finally reappear in the living room, he wipes his hands off in a show of a job well done. "They needed two stories, but they're out now," he tells you and Javi happily.

“That’s good.” Javi hands his father a beer and motions him into the living room. “Go keep your favorite daughter company.” He tells him. “I’ll help finish up the food.”

"I can make a little room," you offer, starting to shift on the couch.

“No, you stay put.” Chucho insists, taking the recliner next to the couch where Javi would normally sit and watch the news. “You need some rest.”

"I was fine all day." A fact which frustrates you to no end. Only starting to feel exhausted and a little unwell after your nap is a nuisance. "This is just a pain in the ass."

You wince again and Chucho hums, glancing down at his watch again. “Each time is different.” He reminds you. “You were so sick with Oscar the first few weeks.”

"This is Marco's fault," you joke, not meaning a word of it. "My first pregnancy was easy right until the end and it made me think more would be the exact same way."

He chuckles as he sets his beer down. “You were floating on air when you were in Colombia. Even with the stress Javi was under.”

"It was our honeymoon phase." As patently absurd as that might sound to anyone else, it's true. You and Javi were as blissful in your actual relationship at that time as any other pair of soulmates could hope to be.

“He has really changed with you in his life.” Chucho admits. “I used to worry about that phone call, you know the one I mean. Knowing how easily Javi would follow someone to hell to do the right thing - in his mind - it was hard to let him live his life.” He smiles. “When you came back to him, he was determined to do things right. To be the best man he could and I think he’s done it. Not that he was ever bad but his rough edges have been smoothed out by you.”

"We did that for each other, really." Reaching over, you set your hand on Chucho's and give his a gentle squeeze. "I needed him to soften and bolster me just as much as he needed me."

He turns his hand and his smile widens when your little grunt of pain comes again. Almost silent if he wasn’t looking for it. “And soon, your family will be complete.” He murmurs.

"Just a few more weeks." Your other hand soothes over your belly, urging this to just go away. If it's the baby being active, you want her to calm down. If its Braxton Hicks contractions, you're just going to have to wait until they pass. Either way you just want to get past it.

“More like a few hours, mija” He chuckles. “You are in labor.”

"It's probably just Braxton Hicks." Saying it out loud, the thought in your head, makes you firm on the point. The best you can do is just shake your head and press on. You've had two babies, already. You would surely know if you were really in labor.

“Pains are about twelve minutes apart.” He tells you, leaning back and smirking and looking very much like his only son.

"Pops." You groan, throwing him a pout. "You've been timing me?"

He snorts. “That’s your gripe right now?” He shakes his head. “You’re perfect for my son. I will say it again.”

"It's just Braxton Hicks. I'm not going to the hospital." The warning in your voice ends up making it rise and three heads whir in your direction.

“You don’t have to go yet.” He promises, reaching out and patting your hand gently.

"Hospital?" Your mother looks up, finding Javi's eyes with worry.

Javi glances over at you and knows what you’ve been trying to deny. “She’s in labor. Has been for a few hours.” He trusts you to know your body, even if you are denying it right now. You might not want to believe it, but you wouldn’t put your baby in any risk.

It’s like hearing it from your husband cracks the dam, and the near-instant spring of tears to your eyes makes your voice waver too. “I can’t be in labor!” You sniffle, dropping your head back on the couch. “It’s Thanksgiving!”

Javi stifles a chuckle and moves over to you from the kitchen, kneeling down beside you and cupping your cheek. “It just means we will have to be extra Thankful this year, sweetheart.”

“But what if she doesn’t like pumpkin pie?” Is, probably, the silliest worry and most ridiculous sentence to ever come out of your mouth, but it’s clear that the extra emotions and hormones and worries flooding through you are in control of your thoughts at the moment.

Everyone starts to chuckle and Javi grins at you. “There’s always pecan pie.” He reminds you, kissing your hand.

“I know how stupid I sound,” you huff, laughing along with them in spite of yourself, and look back at Javi with concern. “She’s early,” you point out, concern lining your eyes. Marco Was born four days after your due date and your labor with Oscar started in the wee hours of the morning on your due date. Early is a new concept for you.

“It’ll be okay, sweetheart.” Even though that worry is one he shares, right now his job is to keep you calm. “Why don’t we go out to the hospital and make sure?”

“I haven’t even packed my hospital bag yet.” He’s right. You know he is. That especially if the baby is going to come early, you should be at the hospital and not take any chances. But you just haven’t gotten yourself ready yet. “I guess it doesn’t matter now?”

“Tell me what you want.” Your mother is abandoning the food and immediately jumping to her feet. “I’ll go pack you a bag.”

You describe the place in your closet that you keep your most comfortable clothes and are specific about the ones you want packed, also asking her to add your slippers and a few hygiene items to your yoga bag.

The onesie you’ll bring your baby girl home in is the same one her brothers were brought home in too, and having goes to get that from the laundry room once you’re on your feet. “Honey?” You stop him in his tracks, but a smile is peaking through your nerves. “Don’t forget to grab the list from the fridge.”

“I won’t forget.” He doesn’t remind you that he’s done this three times now, but he knows you are starting to panic slightly. “I’ll double check it.

“Thank you.” With a heavy sigh and a hiss of pain, you look around at your brother, sisters-in-law, and your father-in-law and half-laugh. “I guess she just really wants to meet everyone.”

“I’ll stay here with the boys.” Chucho tells you, wanting you to feel good about having to leave tonight.

“And we’ll come back first thing in the morning to keep Chucho and the boys company.” Joey promises. With his own soulmate pregnant they had booked a hotel room this year, but nothing will stop them from being on board to keep their nephews busy while Mama welcomes the newest member of the family. “In fact…” He glances at Michael, who nods. “Mickey and I are going to cook dinner. Everything we planned on and have prepped. So tomorrow when the baby’s here we can bring you Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Sounds like we’ve got everything planned.” Chucho chuckles as Javi starts cursing from upstairs. “Let me go help him with your list, mija.”

“Of course.” It wouldn’t do any good to remind them that you can still waddle upstairs — no one in this house would ever let you.

He disappears upstairs and everyone starts to move, getting things together and murmuring about what you might need at the hospital.

It's an hour before Javi is pulling the car up to the emergency room door, and by this point you're past denying that you're in labor. Your mother opted to drive her rental car behind the two of you to be with you in case a second pair of hands is needed, and you're climbing out of the car with Javi's help when she pops up on the sidewalk next to you.

“Let me get the bags.” She insists. “You get her inside, Javier.” He barely resists rolling his eyes and smirks at you slightly. “Sure thing.”

"Inherited trait." You hum under your breath, knowing that both your boys are stubborn as well.

“Don’t I know it.” He huffs, as if he’s not just as stubborn as you, maybe more so. Love and marriage, having children has taught you both to compromise a little more than you would normally, but the only place Javier will never compromise is yours and the boys’ safety and welfare. “I’ve got you.” He holds tight when another contraction hits you and you have to stop walking to concentrate on breathing.

"I can check you in." The nurse at the desk waves to Javier to get his attention.

He cuts his eyes up, his expression not exactly relieved. “Maybe after my wife finishes her contraction.” He snorts.

She smiles, polite and professional, but already has one hand on the phone to call up to Labor and Delivery as soon as she has a patient name. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Only when you sigh softly, the signal that the pain has passed, does Javier even attempt to urge you forward. “Come on sweetheart.” He chuckles. “The sooner we get to a desk, the sooner you get to ride in the wheelchair.”

“Yes please.” It will be a relief to be whisked around the hospital in a wheelchair instead of hobbling around trying to balance between contractions, and you give Javi’s hand a grateful squeeze before letting go to pull your ID and insurance card out of your purse. The nurse at the counter is sweet enough but you’re rather task oriented at the moment.

“I’ll fill out the paperwork.” Javi tells you, taking the clipboard when it’s offered. “You sit down, sweetheart.” He looks up at the nurse. “She’s six and half weeks early right now.”

“I’ll tell the L&D nurse.” Though the desk nurse betrays no concern the speed at which she picks up the phone says otherwise.

“We’ll get you up in the room, and then the doctor will tell you that everything is fine.” Javi reassures you - and himself. Babies come when they want to, not on your schedule. “Maybe you can even have a glass of wine with Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Maybe.” His demeanor being as calm as it is makes you so grateful you could cry again, but a nurse comes over with a wheelchair to get you situated and soon enough your mother is there beside you again. It is going to be alright; you tell yourself over and over. Because you’re taken care of and your little girl will be, too.

Javi is holding your hand. “You want a drink sweetheart?” He knows that if you are having the baby tonight, soon enough they will limit you to ice chips.

“Might as well, while I still can.” You’re thinking the same thing he is, and gratefully accept the water bottle he hands you. “It’ll be ice chips before too long.”

“Yes it will.” He leans in and presses his lips to your hairline. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you, too.” And that, especially right now, is enough to make the difference.

******

You are definitely in labor. Javi holds your hand and reassures you through the pain. The doctor monitoring your progress for hours until suddenly everything speeds up and you are wheeled into the deliver room, Javier smocked up in a gown and gloves. He’s been present for both of the boys’ births and he’s not missing this.

It’s just after midnight when your little girl makes her squalling entrance into this bright new world, shaking her fists and blinking with wonder at all the new things to see and hear and feel.

Like the boys, Javi cuts the umbilical cord and is the first to hold his daughter when the doctor hands her to him, bringing her up to you. “Our little girl.” He chokes out with tears in his eyes from joy and relief that she seems just perfect.

“She’s perfect.” At five pounds and six ounces she’s a little on the small side, but the doctor seems satisfied that she’s healthy and was just determined to arrive early. “She really is perfect.” You have cried at the arrival of each of your babies and have absolutely no impulse to hide it, open shedding tears of joy as your little girl stares with wide eyes up into your face.

“Just like her mama.” Because of the risk of complications, only he has been allowed in the delivery room, giving you three time together. “She’s our perfect little joy.”

“Joy.” Your eyes turn up to his, barely able to tear them away from your daughter except to smile at your husband. Your soulmate. “Joy is a nice name.” But since you try to infuse their family heritage into each of your children’s names, you end up smiling wider. “Alegría. We could call her Allie for short?”

“Alegría Helena Peña.” He tried out the name and smiles softly, reaching out to caress her still wet hair. “It’s perfect”.

"I love you." Three words murmured to your soulmate when you smile up at him again, and repeated to your baby girl when you can't help but look back down at her again. "And I love you, Alegría. We both love you more than you'll ever know."

It wasn't on the list, but you don't care. The overwhelming happiness of this moment being immortalized by your baby girl's name is a perfect homage to all the unplanned things that have lead you to this point. Sometimes the best laid plans go awry, and sometimes that is exactly what fills you with love and happiness right down to your bones.

After a few more minutes, the nurses take Alegría away to do all the tests and clean her up. Javi holds your hand while other nurses help clean up the afterbirth. “It’s a good thing I got your gift early this year.” He chuckles, kissing your lips again. “I’m so damn proud of you, sweetheart.”

"I'm just glad she's healthy." It was your greatest fear and you know it was his too. Being left alone in that quiet hospital room together is almost deafening in an odd reversal of the sensation after so much commotion during Alegría's birth. "No NICU. No scary uncertainty. Just an eager little preemie who wanted to meet her whole family at once."

“Our Thanksgiving baby.” Javi smiles. “Even though her birthday won’t fall on Thanksgiving every year.”

“November 22.” All you know is that is after midnight, so it’s technically Thanksgiving Day now. “Add that to February 3 for Marco and August 15 for Oscar. Thank God they’re all well spaced out so they never have to share.”

“True.” He flashes you a grin. “Although the boys might be jealous when she gets a special dish on Thanksgiving.” He teases.

“Birthday cake is about to become a Peña Thanksgiving tradition,” you joke, knowing it could well become true.

“Baby, thank you.” His hand is holding yours again and he’s looking at you like you’ve hung the moon. Even though you are tired, sweaty and would probably say you look horrible, you are the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, right after the birth of all three of his children. “This is for you.” He offers, holding out the small velvet box he had shoved in his pocket hours earlier.

"Cariño." He has become a fan of push presents ever since first hearing about them, and while you always insist they aren't necessary when asked, it is a special kind of keepsake to have an item that reminds you of this moment. The first moments are the births of your children have all been special in their own ways, so you don't protest, but accept the box from him with a kiss. "I love you," you murmur against his lips, savoring the sensation before cracking open the box in your hand.

A beautiful three stone diamond ring winks back at you, the three baguette cut stones lying end to end in the beautifully carved band in the same metal as both your engagement band and wedding band. A third piece to complete the set like your complete set of three beautiful children. "It's beautiful."

“I figured it could be worn on the other side of your wedding band.” He explains, playing with the jewelry in question. Luckily your hands had not swollen with pregnancy like they had with Marco. “Your children represented on one side.” He murmurs softly. “And my commitment to you on the other.”

"Happily. Without hesitation." You lean over to kiss him again, wading through this feeling of exhausted euphoria for all that you can.

The doctors finish with Alegría and bring her back over to you, making Javi smile at the image when you greedily pull her close. “Do you want me to go get your mom?” He asks softly.

"Yes, please." Nodding and sniffling happily at having your daughter back in your arms, you tilt your chin up to ask for one more kiss before he goes. The new ring has settled on your finger comfortably but all of your attention is back on your little girl. "She'll text the rest of the family for us. At least the announcement is easy this time."

“No international phone calls.” He snorts, letting his lips linger on yours before he bends down more and kisses his daughter’s head. “I love you, mija.” He whispers softly, just like he had when you were carrying her. His life has been changed completely by you and the kids. For the better in every way. Javier knows joy, knows peace, and he knows that his family is the most important thing he could ever fight for. He had decided that he couldn’t let you walk out of his life a second time, and it was the best decision he had ever made.

------

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