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zablife · 4 months ago

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Runaway with Me

Benny Cross x female reader

Divider credit @firefly-graphics

Summary: You're a nice college girl dating a fellow student and photographer named Danny, but your boring life comes to an end when you meet the man you've previously only lusted after in photos. When you spend a night with Benny, your whole world changes.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, unprotected sex, language, drinking, infidelity (sorry Danny)

A/N: Kathy doesn't exist in this AU. Only my second fic for Benny. Let me know your thoughts! Comments are love 💕 No spoilers here!

Benny Cross Masterlist

“Hey,” a low voice called to you, rumbling like thunder on a warm summer night. His smoldering gaze stopped the click of your heels on the pavement before you could reach the bus stop, your attention stolen by a good looking blonde. You watched intently as the flashing streetlight illuminated his rugged jawline and muscular arms, sending a crackle of electricity down your spine.

“I know you,” he remarked mysteriously, taking a long drag of his cigarette.

Your throat went dry, as you struggled to answer. Readjusting your purse on your arm, you shook your head before you finally heard yourself whisper hoarsely, “I don’t think so.” However, you knew he was right, you’d seen his photos in Danny’s dorm room, though the prints hadn’t done him justice.

“You’re that college girl Danny’s always talking about,” he added, eyes roving your body in obvious appreciation.

Your mouth dropped open at the mention of your boyfriend, heart beat quickening as you thought of the way you’d stared at those images, biting your lip in curious desire for a man you’d never met. It hadn’t occurred to you you might actually meet one day, but now it seemed your fantasy was coming true.

Locking eyes with him in a flirtatious stare, you almost felt guilty as you introduced yourself with a coy smile.

Benny's blue eyes twinkled and a wide grin spread across his face as he realized you weren't frightened of him.

"I'm Benny," he reciprocated without saying more. However, the way he allowed comfortable silence to linger, put you at ease long enough to explain that Danny stood you up, leaving you to take the bus home. You couldn’t help the anger that filled your voice, throat constricting with unshed tears as you wondered when you’d be as important as his silly book.

Seeming to understand your need for distraction, Benny asked, “You wanna get out of here?” He didn’t wait for a reply before flicking his cigarette butt to the ground and throwing one leg over his bike.

As you thought of Danny's calls going unanswered, you picked at the strap of your bag hesitantly. “I don’t know, I should be getting back,” you reasoned quietly with yourself.

Benny held up his hands as though accepting defeat. “You gotta go, you gotta go,” he shrugged before starting up the bike.

You glanced over your shoulder toward the uninviting looking bench under the bus shelter just as the engine roared to life, impulsively grabbing his chiseled bicep. His chin jerked up at you in surprise, that adorable grin returning when you yelled, “I’m coming with you.”

Extending a ringed hand for you, he helped you onto the bike, snuggly fitting your arms around his trim waist with the instruction, “Hold on tight."

You didn’t bother asking where you’d be going, your desire for adventure steadily growing. When he accelerated toward the highway with wind rushing past your hair and colors blurring in your peripheral, you could think of nothing except the adrenaline coursing through your veins and the seductive thoughts multiplying with every new sensation.

Pressing your cheek against his back, you inhaled the intoxicating mixture of pomade and leather, closing your eyes to imagine it mingled with the sweat of exertion. The vibration of the bike beneath your legs, body molded tightly against his made you all the more eager for him.

When he pulled into a local motel and helped you off the bike, your legs had turned to jelly and you couldn’t be sure if it was from the overwhelming experience of the ride or your sudden nerves as you waited to see what might happen next.

Benny didn’t seem to notice, walking toward his door with a slow, but confident strut. “Want a drink?” he asked, holding the door for you.

You fidgeted with your necklace as you peeked your head into the small, yet tidy room where he said he’d been staying for the past month.

He offered you the first bottle of beer, knocking the cap off against the dresser with a sharp crack. He shook the fizz from his hand, sucking a little off his thumb before placing the bottle in your hand.

As your fingertips brushed against each other, it renewed the electricity dancing between you, his eyes darkening to a deeper shade of blue as lust overtook his gaze.

With a shaky breath you took a sip and placed the bottle onto the table, quickly forgetting it as he took hold of your arm and pulled you into a searing kiss.

As the cool metal of his rings touched the burning skin of your cheeks, you moaned against him, allowing him the opportunity to lick into your mouth hungrily. He was gentle, but firm as his tongue fought yours for dominance, hands tangling in your hair as his passion increased.

His calloused hands memorized every inch of you on their way down your body to find the hem of your top and pull it over your head. Nipping softly at your lower lip, he distracted you momentarily to unclip your bra and toss it aside, stopping long enough to suck in a breath at the sight of your breasts.

Ducking his head to take a pert nipple into his mouth he lapped and sucked against the sensitive bud, making you whimper with need.

“Like that, pretty girl?” he asked softly, hand kneading your other breast until you thought you’d cum from that simple touch alone. Hands resting atop his blonde curls, you pushed him away gently to catch your breath and he huffed out a little laugh. “A little too much, huh?”

Taking his lead, you wasted no time removing his jacket and shirt to reveal the taut planes of his chest and abs. Skating your fingers across the lean muscle with a sigh, you leaned in to place scattered kisses along his collarbone. You watched the vein in his neck jump before ghosting your lips over his throbbing pulse and chose a place to suck a bruise.

He hissed as you tongued over it in soothing circles, fingertips clutching at your hip when you blew a stream of cold air across his flesh. Deciding to push him further, you snaked a hand down his front, palm gliding over the coarse material of his jeans. A low rumble of satisfaction came from his chest as you stroked his growing bulge, his hips involuntarily bucking against your hand.

You smirked at his responsiveness and the fact that he was much bigger than you’d imagined. Unable to wait any longer, your fingers fumbled excitedly with his belt buckle, Benny groaning at the promise of release for his aching cock.

Falling to your knees, you helped him out of his pants and watched his cock bounce against his tan stomach. The little gasp that left your throat seemed to amuse him as he tilted his head to savor the sight of you before him.

Hand reaching for him like a prize, you began long slow licks along his shaft before taking the spongy head between your lips, eager to please. No sooner had you begun, he grasped for your shoulder to steady himself from the dizzying pleasure, opposite hand sweeping the hair from your face to watch himself disappear down your throat.

Benny’s moans began to fill the room as you worked, a stuttered breath escaping when you stopped to kitten lick and suck lightly on the tip, holding eye contact with him. The sight of your angelic face staring up at him through your lashes, saliva running down your chin was almost too much for him to bear. He knew he couldn't resist you if you continued much longer.

Within seconds you felt him capture your wrists, pulling you up to your feet as he gulped and shook his head. "Not yet, baby."

Walking you backward until the backs of your knees hit the bed behind you, he pushed you onto the mattress with a bounce. You giggled as his eager fingers hooked into the waist band of your skirt and underwear, tugging them down to reveal all of you to him. "So beautiful," he exclaimed, long fingers tracing over your chest and stomach reverently.

He hovered over you, placing kisses to your neck as his fingers found your slick folds, opening you up slowly until you were practically dripping down his fingers. Adding a thumb to circle over your clit, your back arched off the bed and he hushed you with a deep kiss which only intensified when he felt you clench around his digits.

"Need you, Benny," you whined, clutching at his broad shoulders and urging him to rest his weight over you. He pressed his forehead to yours, nuzzling your nose in a gesture far too sweet for the single, powerful thrust that came next. Tears sprang to your eyes from the exquisite feeling of fullness, the pressure on your g-spot intense and immediate.

Benny stilled the moment he'd seated himself inside you, shuddering slightly to hold himself back as he allowed you time to adjust to his size. His cool blue eyes drank you in before resuming a steady rhythm that had you writing beneath him, head tossed back onto the pillows.

The slow drag of his cock against your sensitive walls sent your nerve endings firing little sparks of heat through your core, somehow amplifying the need for more. Benny sensed it immediately, raising your leg to his hip and sank even deeper with a low rumble of satisfaction, matched only by your lustful mewls.

Spurred on by every sweet sound you made, his hips began snapping against you, a light sheen of sweat coating his chest. Your hands flew to his hair, tugging slightly at the roots as your brain fogged with pleasure. As he fucked you into the mattress, your eyes fluttered closed, only vaguely aware of him slipping his thumb into your mouth. Sucking eagerly against the salty skin, you heard Benny groan loudly as the sensation shot straight to his cock.

Removing his thumb with a pop, he snaked his hand between you to circle the small bundle of nerves at your apex causing your mouth to drop open. He leaned in for a kiss unlike before, messy and demanding. "Gonna cum for me, pretty girl?" he asked breathlessly.

You gave a pathetic nod, biting your lip as you felt the coil in your stomach ready to snap. Staring into the oceans of Benny's endlessly blue eyes, a soft static began buzzing in your ears as you heard him whisper, "Yeah? Let me see." His warm breath hit the shell of your ear just as you tipped over the edge, white heat consuming your body. Wave after wave crashed over you, melting your brain and making your limbs turn gooey.

Benny fucked you through it as he chased his own high, hips stuttering before he pulled out with a quick jerk. Emptying himself onto your stomach in hot, thick ropes, he exhaled a contented sigh and smiled down at you with a lopsided grin.

Hours later, overcome with exhaustion, you curled into Benny's side beneath the covers. Safe and warm in his embrace, you found yourself talking about anything and everything. He listened with rapt attention as you described your boring college, the pressure that came with the classes and your dream to escape, seeing the country the way Danny had.

Mostly, Benny listened, but he talked a little about his own travels too. The life he was leading fascinated you and you found yourself wishing you were part of it. However, your voice began to trail off as you glimpsed the far off look in Benny's eye.

Truthfully, Benny found the excitement in your voice endearing and he couldn't help fantasizing about taking you on the road with him. As he idly traced patterns against your arm, he found himself suddenly saying, "Runaway with me."

Clutching the duvet to your chest you turned to stare at him in disbelief. "What?"

His jaw set determinedly, he nodded to indicate he was serious about what he'd said. "Be my girl," he added, eyeing you carefully to see if you'd accept.

Your heart knocked against your chest as you swiftly agreed, moving to straddle him and take his face between your hands for a celebratory kiss.

As the first rays of sun hit Benny’s eyes, he groaned in protest. The morning had come too quickly despite his best efforts to savor the night with you. Turning over in bed to drag you closer to him, his arm stretched over the cold, empty sheets. Clutching the material in his fist until his knuckles turned white, he wondered if you’d caught a cab, leaving the moment you came to your senses.

Shuffling to the side of the bed to retrieve his jeans, he wondered why he’d been foolish enough to think you’d go anywhere with him when you had so many other opportunities. But he couldn’t think about all that before he’d had a cigarette so he fell out the front door, digging in his pockets for a lighter.

Just as he stumbled off the concrete step, he nearly tripped over the chair you’d placed outside the door, eliciting a cry of surprise from you.

As he quickly apologized, you clutched his Vandals jacket to your shoulders, giggling at his disheveled appearance. He was still effortlessly handsome despite his hair sticking up in all directions, the streaks of golden blonde catching the sunlight and arousing another wave of desire in you. However, you noticed he seemed too distracted to reciprocate.

“I thought you left,” he admitted, graveled voice still full of sleep as he closed the motel door behind him.

You raised the hand that held your cigarette, explaining, "Just came out for a smoke.”

As he retrieved the cigarette he had tucked behind his ear, he considered you warily. "Before you took off with my jacket?"

"I was going to give it back when I came in to wake you up," you explained softly, standing to stub out your cigarette with the toe of your shoe.

He turned his back to you, pretending to survey the parking lot as he nodded in understanding, "You gotta go."

You wrapped your arms around his waist, cheek pressed to his back as you imagined you'd do many more times in the future during long rides together. "We have to go. I thought we were running away together," you reminded him with a playful nudge.

He turned around instantly, pulling you close by the lapels of his jacket for a long kiss. Smirking against your lips he murmured, "Then let's go, baby."

#the bikeriders #the bikeriders fanfiction #the bikeriders imagine #benny cross #benny cross x reader #benny cross x you #benny cross x y/n #benny cross fanfiction #benny cross imagine #Austin butler

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joelscruff · 7 months ago

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one of your girls (frankie morales x triple frontier boys) 18+

a/n it's @swiftiscruff friendship exchange time!!! i'm so beyond excited to share this piece i've been working on, dedicated to my incredible friend han @swiftispunk 🌙 we brainstormed the idea for this fic months ago and it's finally somehow become something tangible - but han, if i've learned anything from writing this fic, it's how much i depend on you when it comes to so many aspects of my writing. whether it be workshopping ideas, input on characterization & dialogue, sharing snippets, etc, you are always there to lend a hand, listen, and advise. not having that this time around (because this fic has been a secret ofc!) just further proved to me what an incredibly patient, giving, caring, kind, & beautiful friend you are. i love you so much & i'm so grateful you slid in my dms one whole year ago today 💕 summary: unpacking some of frankie's old things leads to a revelation about his past. (OR to put it simply: frankie morales x triple frontier boys circle jerk 🙌) rating: 18+ explicit warnings: circle jerk (frankie/benny/santiago/will), sub!frankie, bukkake, facials, cumplay, cum swallowing, frankie is literally a cum dumpster (and loves it), praise kink galore, pet names (good boy, baby boy), dirty talk, oral (m receiving), deepthroating, cock worship, use of restraints, sexy photographs, sharing, mentions of frankie x all the boys individually (this includes tom but he's not involved in the circle jerk - sorry tom), brief mentions of anal sex (m/m), for story purposes you are frankie's current gf but it's not really the main focus...for now anyway, all of this takes place before the events of triple frontier word count: 12.2k ao3 dividers by @saradika-graphics 💙

You've been moving boxes for what feels like forever, arms aching and the sun beating hot against the back of your neck as you swipe sweat from your brow and head back into the aging, disintegrating storage unit. When Frankie had first told you about it you'd been adamant that he move his old things - locked away for almost ten years now - out of the unit and into the new house. "We don't need to be paying for storage when we have a garage", you'd said confidently, "we have a house now, Frankie. What's yours is mine."

If only you'd believed him when he'd told you it wouldn't be that easy.

"I told y-" he begins for the fourth time as you lean down to grab another box, but you snap up immediately with a finger to your lips. "Why don't I just do the rest from here?" He offers fruitlessly, "You take a break, relax in the truck for a little while."

You're already shaking your head before he's finished talking, resuming your retrieval of the large box at your feet, "No, Frankie. We do this together."

You don't have to look at him to know that he's rolling his eyes. All the same, you hear him clamoring after you with another box as he follows you from the unit and back to the truck. The sun hangs high overhead and you squint uncomfortably against it, piling the box alongside the others in the truck bed. Frankie does the same.

"I mean, what's even in all of these?" you ask exasperatedly, shoving one of the many boxes with your hand and leaning backwards against the truck, "How did you accumulate this much shit in the military? I thought minimalism was all the rage over there."

"I told you, it's not just mine," he reaches forward to brush some sweaty tendrils of hair out of your eyes, "It's the whole team's shit. Well, mostly Ben and Pope's, the others were uh-" he winches, "a little more organized, I guess."

"You guess?" you push up on your hands and seat yourself precariously on the edge of the truck bed, catching your breath. Frankie watches as you tear open the nearest box, biting down on his lip to stifle a laugh when he sees your eyes widen at what's inside.

"Paperwork?" you breathe, mouth agape, "Paperwork? That's what in all these? Fucking forms?"

"Something they don't tell you when you first join," he shrugs, "But no, that's not all that's in these. There's souvenirs, journals, photos, mission plans-" he cuts himself off and stops speaking altogether, lips clamping shut. Your brow furrows as you watch him assess the open box beside you, then the others strewn haphazardly here and there inside the truck bed, as if he's only just realized something he hadn't considered before.

"What?"

He seems to shake himself from whatever stopped him, eyes still settled on the open box as he murmurs, "Um, maybe don't open any more right now."

You raise an eyebrow, "Why not?"

"Just, uh... don't."

"Well that's not ominous in the slightest."

He laughs but something about it seems off, almost forced as he reaches forward with both hands to help you down from the truck. You follow his lead, peering up at him curiously and hoping maybe he'll elaborate, explain, but instead he turns on the spot and heads back toward the storage unit, pulling you along in tow.

You decide not to press him about it for the time being. Right now, all you can think about is finishing hauling these ridiculous boxes and devouring an iced coffee on the way home.

A week passes before you even think about the boxes again.

By that time they've been taking up residence in the garage, haphazardly placed along the concrete in unorganized disarray, exactly where you'd both left them the day you unloaded the unit. You'd been too exhausted to start unpacking and had instead collapsed on the couch, laying there with aching limbs as Frankie discarded your empty iced coffee and poured you a tall glass of water.

"Your job is done now, querida," he'd murmured softly, stroking your cheek, "I'll do the rest."

Except he hadn't. He'd pulled your feet into his lap and settled comfortably beside you on the couch, just for a moment - and then it was lights out for the both of you, boxes be damned.

Now you find yourself the following Saturday perched precariously atop your counter, fingers smeared a soft fern green as you paint the walls of your new kitchen. You only moved into this house a month ago - your first real house together; shared, owned, all that jazz. Most of that time has already been entirely dedicated to making it your own space; unpacking, decorating, furnishing, rearranging - you've been more than busy with curating this new step in both your lives.

Which is why it's not surprising that you forget about the storage unit boxes and their scatteredness in the garage, too distracted by your current ongoing tasks. You hum along to the radio as you carefully attend to the smallest crevices and spaces between the cupboards, above the stove, under the window sill. You need it to be perfect, have gone far too long living in a less than adequate apartment without much creative freedom for this house to suffer the same fate.

Of course, just as you acknowledge the desire for perfection, your hand slips. A splash of green suddenly paints the pure white window sill and your heart sinks.

"Frankie!" you call out with a groan, reaching forward to wipe the mess away and only making it worse, "Where's the white paint?"

"Should be in the garage, I think," you hear him call back from the living room, busy with his own task of painting the walls a deep maroon, "Need me to get it for you?"

"No, I got it," you slide off the counter, careful to avoid the can of green paint at your feet as you make your way to the garage. It's only when you pass the threshold off the laundry room that you finally remember the forgotten boxes, faced with them for the first time since you dropped them off.

"Dammit, Francisco," you mutter, "You said you'd take care of it."

You can't really blame him though. It really is an undertaking; you'd known that from the moment he told you about the unit to begin with. He'd wanted to keep them there, would rather continue paying the monthly fee than deal with the enormous amount of unpacking he'd have to do, but you'd pushed. Now, as you grimace at the pile of heavy boxes, you wonder if maybe he'd been right.

For now, you turn your attention to the task at hand - finding white paint. You scan the storage shelves along the walls and spot the can you're looking for on a high shelf, out of reach.

Maybe those boxes can serve a purpose today.

You shove one toward the shelf and heave another one on top, making quick work of it despite the effort. Climbing onto your makeshift stepladder, you reach for the white paint and successfully pull it to your chest, but the added weight causes your feet to dig into the box below, exposing its contents as you carefully pull yourself back down. Your eyes can't help but dart to the crushed opening, spotting what looks like a photo album peeking through.

Setting the paint down, you lower yourself onto the concrete and cross your legs, biting your lip and reaching inside the box to grab the album. It's navy blue, relatively small, lightweight. A little skim couldn't hurt.

As soon as you open the photo album you can't help but smile, met immediately with a photo of Frankie and Santiago with their arms around each other - fifteen years younger. Their eyes are alight with excitement, Frankie's cap askew and Santi's expression caught in a permanent laugh. Before, you think to yourself, this was before shit got real. You flip the page and smile wider when you see a photo of Benny and Will, caught in what must be a playful brawl with Benny's hand grabbing at Will's leg as he tries to get away. Will is grinning from ear to ear, a genuine smile you've only seen a handful of times. Yep, definitely before.

You flip through the rest of the photos with a heaviness in your heart you can't describe. You've known these boys for a handful of years, have only heard fragments of the shit they've been through together, but you know it wasn't easy, know it affected them in ways you'll never even begin to understand. Being able to see them before all that, before they became hardened and molded by pain and trauma, you can't deny the emotions that bubble in your throat.

The last page contains a group photo; Frankie is in the center, surrounded by his friends on all sides, Will and Benny turned towards him with a fond smile and a grin, Santiago with an arm around him again and his head tilted to brush against Frankie's cap, and Tom on the edge - looking a little out of place, you must admit. But then, you suppose, things haven't really changed.

You're about to close the album and return to your painting when you notice a little pocket built into the backing, hidden out of sight with a hint of white poking through. Not wanting to miss out on another good photo, you slip your finger inside and happily tug out what looks to be a polaroid, different than the others. Curiously, you flip it over.

And immediately drop it to the floor.

Suddenly you can hear Frankie's words from last week, thrumming in your mind on repeat: "Um, maybe don't open any more right now."

You hadn't understood. But now you think you do.

With slightly shaky fingers you reach down and pick up the polaroid, taking a breath before slowly flipping it over again. Lips parted, eyes wide, heart pounding, you peer down at the little photograph and try to understand what you're seeing.

A much younger Frankie - naked, save for the cap on his head and the pants around his ankles. On his knees, peering up at the camera with hooded eyes and a fucked-out expression you've become more than familiar with at this point in your relationship. But that's not what made you drop the photo, no.

His face is covered in cum. You know that's what it is, know there's nothing else it could possibly be. Thick trails of it paint his face like abstract art, dripping down his forehead and the bridge of his nose, his cheeks, his lips, his chin. It's all over him, smeared along his neck and chest bloomed red with heat and arousal. His cap is askew, cheeks flushed, and - most notable of all - he's smiling. Looking up at the camera, drenched in cum, smiling.

Frankie is bisexual; you've known this since your first date, remember how shy he'd been as he'd softly murmured, "Just so you know, I like girls and guys." It hadn't bothered you at all to know that he'd been with men in the past - in fact, you'd kind of liked that about him.

So this - this doesn't bother you. You're not bothered. You're... you don't know what you are, can't seem to pinpoint exactly how you're feeling right now as peer down at the polaroid that you were probably never supposed to find. You're not bothered, you're just... surprised. And confused. What is this doing here? Why is it hidden in an album of Frankie and his friends?

....Oh.

"Find it?" you suddenly hear Frankie call from the living room, and your stomach drops. You hastily stand and slip the polaroid into your back pocket, then close the album and toss it back into the box.

"Y-yeah," you call back, "I got it!"

You try not to mention it. Try, being the operative word.

But it's all you can think about. It's all you see when you reunite with Frankie in the kitchen later that afternoon, staring at the flecks of maroon paint scattered across his face and being unable to not see smears of splattered white. It's all you see that evening as you dig into your leftover Chinese food, eyes constantly flickering across the table to watch Frankie bite and chew, lips soft and wet and definitely not leaking cum at the corners.

It's all you see that night when you settle in bed and watch as he comes out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, water dripping down his neck and chest not unlike the thick drops of release in the photo. You watch with hooded eyes, lips parted, heart thrumming, as he tugs the towel off and walks to the dresser with his pert ass on full display. You can't help but wonder if there'd been cum there too, leaking and dripping, hidden away because of the angle of the photo.

"I can feel you staring at me," he suddenly says with a chuckle, "Why don't you take a picture? It'll last longer." He says it in jest but you feel your face bloom with heat, immediately averting your eyes and burying yourself beneath the sheets.

"I was not," you lie, "Get over yourself."

He laughs again and you hear him shut the dresser, probably tugging on a pair of briefs, "You've been looking at me weird all day, it's kind of freaking me out."

You want to point out that "all day" is an exaggeration, but then you'd have to admit that you have been looking at him strangely for at least a portion of it, and you really don't want to do that. Instead, you reach over and turn off the lamp on your bedside table, then nuzzle into your pillow and close your eyes, ignoring him.

"Is something wrong, baby?" you hear him ask, humor slowly dissipating from his voice, "You need to talk about anything?"

"No," you lie, your own voice betraying you immediately, "I'm fine."

You feel the bed dip beside you, feel the warmth of his palm come down to gently caress your upper arm, "You sure? Did I do something to upset you?" You can practically hear him wince as soon as he says the words, "I know, I should already know if I did. But today's been busy and-"

"You didn't do anything, Frankie," you tell him softly, "I promise."

"Then what is it?" you can hear the concern, the gentle worry as he strokes your arm up and down, "Talk to me." He sounds so kind, so tender, as always. It's so damn hard to keep anything from him. You sigh.

"I feel..." you grimace, eyes still closed, "I just feel..."

He waits for you to continue, in the meantime settling into bed beside you and tugging the sheets up over himself. You feel his warmth against your body and it immediately fills you with a sense of calm, comfort. Your heart slows a bit, breaths coming a little easier as he brings his arm down to wrap around you and pull you in close.

"How do you feel, querida?" he murmurs, "Tell me."

"Guilty," you finally breathe, and you're surprised to feel tears pricking in your eyes, "I feel guilty."

You can hear the confusion in his voice, "For what?"

"I...I saw something I shouldn't have," you admit quietly, "In one of your boxes. Something really private that you probably never ever wanted me to see and I'm so sorry." You feel his arm freeze at your side and you take a shaky breath, "And now I can't stop thinking about it even though it's absolutely none of my damn business. And I wanna ask you about it but I really have no right to, not when I wasn't even supposed to know about it in the first place, and-"

"Mierda," he groans - shit.

"I'm so sorry, Frankie" you whisper pathetically, still facing away from him, "It's all my fault and if you need me to just forget about it, I will. I promise that I will."

"Fuck," he murmurs, "No no, baby, it's not your fault, it's mine. I should have unpacked all of it myself. I knew there was shit in there you might not wanna see."

"Y-you're not mad at me?"

He buries his face in your hair, nose nuzzling against your neck, "Of course I'm not mad at you - could never be mad at you for that. What's mine is yours, remember?"

You pull away to turn and face him, expression pensive. He's looking at you with earnest eyes, no anger or betrayal to be seen, and it almost makes it worse. Because does he know? Does he realize what exactly it is that you found?

"You have um..." you bite your lip, "You have pictures, in a photo album."

He stares at you, brow furrowing. "What?"

Fuck.

"There was... there was a photo album in one of the boxes. And I figured I'd just flip through it, just to have a look at you when you were younger, you know? Thought it'd be nice, that there might be something we could frame for the house."

He's looking at you like you're speaking another language, confusion lining his features, "....So?"

"So... so I found..." you wince, the image flashing behind your lids again as you try to figure out how to word it, "I found a picture that I don't think you would have wanted me to see."

He's still staring at you, the cogs turning in his head but seemingly no closer to an answer. You picture him flipping through an invisible rolodex, trying to pinpoint exactly what picture you could be talking about. You're starting to realize that maybe when he'd told you to stop looking in the boxes he'd been talking about something else.

"Honestly baby, I thought you meant you looked at some of my paperwork," he admits. Bingo. "Saw some stuff we did for a mission or something. There's plans in those boxes, strategy stuff, and you know how intense some of those were, some of the..." he takes a beat, biting his lip, "some of the things we had to do."

You shake your head quickly, "It wasn't anything like that. It wasn't...it wasn't something serious, really. It was..." you take a deep breath, still unable to say the words. Instead, you reach over into your nightstand and grab the polaroid, sitting up in bed and waiting for him to join you.

"What is it?" he asks, gentle and kind as he sits up beside you, "You can tell me, baby. We can talk about it."

Your heart races but you figure there's no going back from it now, and you're not sure you'd want to keep it from him anyway. Up until this point you and Frankie have always made communication an important part of your relationship. It's been necessary considering what he's been through, what he still deals with, and it's something that you're proud of. You're just gonna have to grin and bear it.

With a sigh, you shakily hand him the polaroid.

He flips it.

And drops it.

"Oh," he gasps, hand coming up to cover his mouth, "Oh, fuck."

"It's not- I'm not-" you stutter, fumbling over your words, "It's not a big deal, really. Like, it's whatever. I know you're bi, I know you've probably sucked your fair share of dicks-"

"Oh god," Frankie moans, his hands coming up to cover his eyes, "Oh my god."

"Hey, hey, no," you reach up and try to pull his hands away from his face, desperation in your voice, "Do not hide from me, you did nothing wrong. You hear me? There's nothing wrong with this." He groans again, shaking his head, but you just keep on talking, "I'm not mad about it or anything, it'd be pretty fucked up for me to mad about it actually. I'm just- hey," you continue to pry at his fingers, "Francisco, look at me."

Slowly, hesitantly, he finally removes his hands from his eyes to peer at you. You can see the embarrassment there, the humiliation - and not the good kind, not the kind he likes.

"Hey," you whisper, "You don't have to talk about this. We can pretend I never even saw it if that's what you want," you bring his hands down and hold them tightly, squeeze them in your own, "I just... I just wanted you to know that I saw it. And that I was just a little curious about why it was in an album from your military days. That's it. That's all."

His eyes fall back to the flipped polaroid on the bed, the back of it facing the both of you. You watch as he slowly reaches forward to pick it up again with his index and middle finger, pulls it upwards and turns it around to see it again.

Out of respect for him, you don't look at it. You just watch his face, his expression. He looks.... thoughtful.

"Talk to me," you whisper, voice breaking, "Please."

He looks from the polaroid to you, then back to the polaroid. After taking a steadying breath, he places it back down onto the bed between the two of you, face up. Your eyes spot his cum-covered face again, frozen forever in time, and you quickly avert your gaze.

He notices, and gives you a small half smile. You return it tenfold.

"Well, it.." he starts, taking another breath, "It was just something that.. we just started-" he cuts himself off, smile turning to a frown as he formulates his words. "It started..."

"Hey," you breathe, reaching down to squeeze his hands again, "Take your time."

It started as a way to blow off steam - that's it. Simple, easy.

They'd all gotten to know one another during training, spent time shooting the shit and building friendships with each other. There had been such a sense of belonging, of fortified brotherhood, a pull toward one another that none of them could deny. So it was unsurprising when their teamwork and comradery resulted in their placement into a special task force, just the five of them against the world - or, rather, the enemy.

But it was stressful. Going from basic military training to special ops added a new layer of pressure and competence that they hadn't experienced before, and it was no walk in the park. Things got harder, more pressing, more important. And all they had, like always, was each other.

So it made sense one night, for Frankie anyway, to offer Santiago a blowjob.

He'd heard the stiff grunts from the bed beside him, the dry - too dry - slap of skin as Santi worked at himself beneath the thin sheet of his bunk. It wasn't abnormal for Frankie to overhear one of his buddies masturbating; in fact it would have been abnormal to not hear it. He'd gotten used to the different sounds they'd each make as they gripped their cocks, hidden away in the dark, and pumped themselves to completion. He had memorized the sounds of their breathing, the grunts and the whines, the soft moans of their orgasms.

But it was never something that was discussed. It was an unspoken rule, almost: what happens in the bunks stays in the bunks. So Frankie had never even considered crossing that line, especially because he was pretty sure he was the only one in the group who liked dudes - something everyone was only vaguely aware of.

There was something about the desperation in Santi's movements that night, in the sweat on his brow and the pained expression on his face. He'd gotten reprimanded earlier that day for failing a training mission, been yelled at by two commanding officers while the rest of the boys looked on with regret in their hearts. If one of them failed, they all felt as if they'd failed too. Santi hadn't spoken to anyone for the rest of the day, had eaten in silence and then retired to his bunk much too early. And now, hours later here he was, hand around his cock, trying to forget.

And Frankie wanted to help.

"Pope," he'd whispered under his breath, just loud enough for Santiago to hear. Santi had turned his head slightly, eyebrows raising when he realized he'd been caught in the act. He'd been about to say something, defend himself maybe, but Frankie had shook his head and continued, "Need some help?"

A look of confusion. "Help?"

Frankie's eyes had wandered to the shape of Santi's lower half beneath the sheet, then back up to meet his gaze.

"Yeah," he'd murmured earnestly, "Help."

Santi had stared at him for a few seconds, brow furrowed, chest heaving. His hand was frozen under the sheet, gripping firmly to his hard cock as he'd considered Frankie's offer. Someone else might have hurled hurtful words, another might have ignored him completely.

But Santi took a deep breath and leaned back, closed his eyes and breathed, "Go ahead."

Frankie had been under the sheet in minutes.

Tucked away, hidden in case any of the other guys woke up, Frankie sucked slowly on his friend's cock. He wasn't sure how much Santi wanted to see of him, figured maybe he'd have his eyes closed as he pictured someone else, maybe that girl he liked from back home, but it didn't matter to Frankie - what mattered most was helping his friend forget about the shitty day he'd had. He treated Santi's cock like something to be worshipped, swallowing and licking around the big shape of him, warm and thick in his mouth. And when Santi came, it was only moments after Frankie had started.

His hands came down to grip Frankie's curls, tugging and pulling as he'd groaned and spilled down his friend's throat. And Frankie had swallowed every drop.

"Francisco," Santi had murmured when Frankie pulled off his cock with a pop, a drop of cum leaking from the corner of his mouth as he peered up at Santi from beneath the sheet, "You've been holding out on me."

With a smile, Frankie had licked the cum away and placed a gentle, reverent kiss to the wet head of Santi's cock. Santi had watched with hooded eyes, let Frankie kiss him there a few more times, let him trail his nose along his thick shaft and inhale deeply at the base. Hands still carding through his hair, Santi had let him mouth at his cock for a few more minutes before softly telling him he should get back in his bunk.

"Just trying to savor it," Frankie had whispered, voice a little sad, a little broken.

"You'll do it again," Santi had replied, reveling in the way Frankie's eyes widened, a smile lighting up his face.

And he did do it again - the following night. He'd been a little hesitant, unsure if Santiago had really meant what he said. But after the others had fallen asleep and Frankie was still just lying there, waiting, he'd heard a soft pssst sound. He'd looked over to see Santi sitting up in bed with a smirk on his face and one hand already beneath the sheet, tugging at his dick.

He stuffed his mouth with Santi's cock every night that week. It was almost feral the way he drank him down, eyes rolling as his lips kissed Santi's pubic hair and his tongue laved the shaft of his cock up and down, up and down. Drool cascaded from his lips all over his friend's belly, and he whined softly over and over whenever his curls were tugged, his temples stroked. Santi would talk to him softly, murmur the quietest little praises that made Frankie insane with need. That's it, there you go. You take what you need, Francisco. And then he'd come down his throat, fill his stomach with it, and whisper, "Good boy."

It was filthy, but it wasn't wrong. Not one part of it felt wrong. And Santiago never once made him feel like it was a shameful secret they were keeping, like the others finding out would be the end of the world. And it's good that he'd maintained that stance, because soon enough, Benny was in on it too. They should have seen it coming, considering his bunk was directly above Santi's.

"Can you give me one, maybe?" he'd asked Frankie awkwardly one night, voice quiet and slightly nervous as he leaned over the bars of the bunk bed, "I've been... I've been listening to it every night and it's driving me fuckin' crazy that I don't know what it feels like."

"Are you saying you've never had a blowjob, Ben?"

Benny had rolled his eyes, "Of course I've had a fuckin' blowjob, idiot. I've just never had a... a you know..." he'd shrugged, "A Frankie blowjob."

"It's good," Santi had said nonchalantly, tugging off his shirt and climbing into his bunk, "He's fucking incredible, actually."

Frankie had preened at the praise, cheeks reddening. An hour later he'd climbed up into Benny's bunk and deepthroated his cock for a solid fifteen minutes. Benny was breathless, chest blooming with heat as he watched Frankie suck and drool, gagging every so often but immediately resuming his sloppy ministrations as soon as he'd caught his breath.

"Look at that," Benny had marveled softly, "Look at that."

"I told you," they'd both heard Santi whisper from below, "He's a fucking godsend."

"I'm gonna cum down your fuckin' throat, Frankie," Benny had groaned, and no sooner were the words out that he was following through, spurting slow and steady into Frankie's mouth. He gripped the back of his head, watched Frankie swallow, and then whispered, "Good boy". Oh, he really had been listening.

Sated and warm with wet and sticky briefs, Frankie had climbed back into bed with a new appreciation for Benny.

As if two wasn't enough, Will got involved shortly after that. Of course Benny had unsurprisingly spilled the beans to his brother, which lead to Frankie climbing atop his own bunk one night to join Will, who'd been a bit unsure. It was as if he thought a prank was being pulled on him, like it was all bullshit, but he didn't say no.

"Been wonderin' what you three were gettin' up to," he'd muttered, watching Frankie a bit dubiously, brow furrowed, arms crossed, "Ben says you're, uh... good."

"I'm good," Frankie had promised softly, bringing his hands down to tug at Will's boxers, "Promise."

Will had watched as Frankie brought his already hardening cock out of his underwear, kissed the tip gently and then brought it into his mouth. "Oh fuck," he'd heard Will gasp out, immediately reaching up to cup the back of Frankie's head. And then there were three.

But three stayed three. Tom did find out about it, considering every single night somebody seemed to be getting their dick sucked. Any discreetness had gone out the window, especially when two of them would jack themselves off to the sounds of Frankie slurping and sucking, groans and the heavy slap of skin echoing throughout the large room. But despite the knowledge of what his friends were doing, the leader of the group was seemingly disinterested in having a go with Frankie.

There was one disastrous evening wherein the others managed to convince Tom to give it a shot. But Frankie bobbed on his cock for a solid five minutes before realizing he just wasn't getting him hard, and Tom had pushed him away and turned in bed with a low sigh.

"It's just not for me, Fish," he'd muttered, "Pretend it never happened."

"He doesn't know what he's missing," Santi had murmured ten minutes later as he watched Frankie suckle on the leaking tip of his cock, "Huh, Francisco? Doesn't know you've got the mouth of an angel, huh?"

Frankie had continued to suck, eyes closed, breathing deeply in and out as Santi stroked his hair.

Things were easier for a while after that. The training was strenuous, oftentimes near impossible, but there was always pleasure at the end of it, always something to look forward to. Every night Frankie would take up residence in someone's bunk, usually after a quick game of rock paper scissors or a straw draw. Each of his friends were different in their own way, and Frankie took a lot of joy in being able to have those moments with them, be what they needed. It felt like he was floating, dreaming; he'd never realized how badly he wanted to be submissive like this until it actually happened. Being their shared prize, their plaything, it was fucking incredible.

Sometimes he'd have all three in one night. He'd deepthroat Benny's cock and swallow him down, then stagger to Will's bunk and do the same. With his own erection aching in his underwear he'd finally crawl in with Santi and allow his closest friend to pull down his briefs and notch the head of his cock into his ass. Santi was the only one who fucked him, the only one who held him close afterwards and sometimes fell asleep with him.

"You my good boy, Francisco?" he'd murmur in Frankie's ear as he fucked him slow and deep, fingers digging into his hips beneath the sheets, "You like feelin' that cock in your ass?"

And god, did he ever.

The first real mission was brutal.

It was tame compared to the things they'd eventually do, but for what it was, they were stressed out of their minds. They spent weeks planning, training, preparing. They'd find themselves so tired at the end of the day that their nighttime habits became a thing of the past, if not something that only happened once in a blue moon. And in its own way the lack of it had begun to affect everything else, their comradery, their abilities, their drive. The day before the mission was set to begin, Benny stood up at dinner and proclaimed, "We've gotta get our shit together."

"Sit down, our shit is together," Tom grumbled, "We're gonna be fine."

"We are not gonna be fine," Benny argued, expression genuinely fearful, "We're gonna fail the whole fuckin' thing and then we're out on our asses."

"There's truth to that, you know there is," Will pointed out as he pulled Benny back down, "There's somethin' missing here. We're not on our A game."

"What, 'cause Morales isn't getting sucked and fucked?"

Frankie's head had gone up, ears tinging pink as he looked over at Tom along with everybody else. There had been a beat of silence, and then-

"Nobody said that," Santi had stated calmly, "And don't be a dick."

"I'm not being a dick. It's fine what you all get up to in your own time, whatever. But it's not the be-all and end-all of our fucking team," he'd shrugged and looked at Santi with a frown, "I mean, come on, Pope. We're prepared, with or without the extracurriculars."

"We are," Santiago had agreed with a nod, turning to Benny, "It's gonna be fine, man. The nerves are just kicking in now but that's normal. We've trained for this, we're ready."

But Frankie could tell he wasn't being entirely truthful.

That night, despite the tiredness of the last day of training and the anxiety of what was to come - Frankie found a solution. He told Santi first, whispered it to him in his bunk and grinned at the expression on his friend's face, awestruck and aroused all at once.

"You're sure?" Santi asked him quietly.

"I'm sure. I think it'll help us de-stress."

Santi had leaned forward and tilted Frankie's cap up, pressed a firm kiss to his forehead and murmured, "Me sigues sorprendiendo, Francisco." You continue to surprise me.

A moment later he was climbing the ladder of Santi's bunk, coming face to face with Benny. "You wanna do something kinky?"

The younger man's eyebrow raised, "Kinkier than usual?"

"A blowjob is not kinky, Ben."

"Getting one from a guy is."

Frankie rolled his eyes and went to pull himself back down the ladder but Benny stopped him, reaching out to touch his wrist.

"What'd you have in mind?"

And that's how he'd ended up on his knees.

Will and Benny stood on either side of Santiago, all three men looking down at their submissive friend with unbridled arousal in their expressions, dark and anticipatory. There was silence at first, not necessarily awkward but full of a definite tension that was more than palpable.

Until-

"Tie him up," Santi murmured to Benny. Frankie's eyes went hooded almost immediately, lips parting as he peered up at his friends and felt his heart pound at the thought of what Santi was asking.

"How so?"

"His hands," Santi clarified, "There's some string in the first aid kit, tie his hands behind his back so he can't touch himself."

Benny followed his orders without question, heading toward the bathroom to grab the kit while Will gave Santiago a confused look. "Why can't he touch himself?"

Santi smiled, tilting his head a bit and peering down at Frankie's already debauched form. He walked forward and kneeled down in front of him, levelling with him as he reached for his waistband.

"'Cause he likes it," Santi murmured, "Haven't you noticed something about Frankie in all the months we've been doing this?" As he spoke he pulled down Frankie's pants to his knees, exposing his bare thighs to the room. He was already hard, the long shape of his cock protruding from his black briefs. "He doesn't touch himself," he continued softly, stroking his thumb gently against the V of Frankie's hips, "He always comes in his pants when he sucks our dicks."

Hearing the words aloud, stated so matter-of-factly, Frankie realized in that moment how fucking well Santiago had come to know him. Not once had Frankie voiced this, told him anything about what he really liked, what he craved. And yet here he was, having his desires told directly to him, like it was the most casual thing in the world.

"And when he gets fucked," Santi continued, fingers trailing downward to ever so gently cup Frankie's cock, "He only lets me touch it. Ain't that right, Francisco?"

Frankie nodded slowly, a lump forming in his throat.

"Why?" Will asked again - always wanting clarification, an explanation.

"'Cause it feels good, doesn't it, Frankie?" Santi cooed, releasing Frankie's bulge and bringing his hand up to place a finger under his chin, "Feels so good to come untouched, huh? Feels good to let go when you've got a dick in your mouth, to fall asleep with your underwear all wet and your cock all sticky?"

Frankie nodded again, cheeks blooming pink. He felt someone behind him pick up his hands, start tying them together - Benny.

"Come to think of it, I've never seen his cock," Benny admitted, voice already rough with anticipation, "I mean... I guess I had other things on my mind."

"He's got a fucking great cock," Santi murmured, "Why don't you show 'em, Francisco? Let 'em see what you've been hiding under here, huh?" His finger dug into the band of Frankie's briefs, and all Frankie could do was nod again, unable to speak with the way his thoughts had begun to melt away, brain going fuzzy.

Benny finished tying his hands and walked in front of him again to stand alongside Santi, eyebrows going up when he watched Frankie's cock be freed from the confines of his underwear. It stood at attention immediately, long and hard, pink and flushed at the tip. It smacked wetly against his belly, balls hanging heavy and full as Santi pulled his briefs down entirely.

"Now look at that pretty cock," Santi breathed, almost just for Frankie alone, "Look how it's dripping."

And it was dripping, already pulsing and bobbing against his belly button with every rise and fall of his chest. The three men watched in silence for a moment as Frankie took deep breaths, his cock twitching and stuttering in front of them without being touched, simply exposed to the cool air of the room and their interested gazes.

"I kinda wanna...." Benny started to say, but trailed off, blushing a bit as he took a step away from his brother.

"I'll stay between you," Santi offered quickly, "Pull 'em out, it's fine."

There was no more hesitation after that. Frankie watched under his lashes as his three friends reached into their pajama pants and pulled out their cocks. Will was still mostly soft, though you could tell he was starting to harden with the sudden gravity of the situation. Benny was already stiff and leaking as he fisted his own, and Santiago's hung heavy and thick between his legs as he carefully circled the head with his thumb.

"We're gonna come all over your face, Frank," Benny told him quietly as he jerked his cock slowly up and down, "You know that, right? You're sure you're cool with that?"

It was like he was underwater, still unable to speak; he hadn't said one word since he'd gotten on his knees. It was as if the submissive part of him had taken over completely, mind going blank.

"Say yes or no, Fish," Will said, voice strained as he squeezed himself gently, "Wanna hear it."

"Yes," Frankie had finally managed to whimper, knees trembling against the cold floor, "Yes, please."

Santi grinned, "Well boys, I think we got our answer," He tilted his head again to eye Frankie from where he stood, "Let's get a little closer, shall we? I think he wants us up close and personal."

Within a few seconds Frankie was suddenly face to face with three cocks - it was like fucking Christmas morning. His mouth popped open and drool immediately began to collect in the corners of his mouth, eyes trailing back and forth to look at absolutely everything he could. He stared at the weeping tips, the fat heads, the thick shafts where his friends pumped and fisted. Without any thoughts in his brain he opened his mouth and laid his tongue flat against his lower lip, staring at Benny's cock - arguably the biggest - with pleading eyes.

"Yeah, you wanna suck on it, don't you?" Benny asked, a smile in his voice, "You go ahead, Fish. Suck that cock."

He did not need telling twice. His lips wrapped around the pink mushroom head of Benny's cock and his eyes rolled back as he began to suck, tongue lapping at the tip and devouring everything it had to offer. God he loved having his mouth full, loved hearing Benny's groans as he pushed his head forward and enveloped more and more of the cock in front of him, began to slide his lips up and down the shaft and cover it in his saliva.

"So pretty with a cock in your throat, Francisco," Santi told him, voice full of praise as he watched Frankie sink down even further on Benny's cock, 'til his nose was buried in his pubic hair. "Tell him how pretty he is, Benny. He wants to hear it."

Frankie anticipated some hesitance, maybe even a sarcastic comment, but Benny did no such thing. Instead, Benny's hand came up to cup the back of Frankie's head, holding him still on his cock as he breathed, "You're so pretty, Frankie."

A high keen of a whine made it's way from Frankie's throat, vibrated around the cock in his mouth. Benny trembled a bit, tangling his fingers in his hair and helping him bob a few more times before pulling him off completely. Frankie gasped for breath, tears in his eyes as he stared up at his friends.

"Your turn," Santi murmured quietly to Will, "Stuff him full."

"He fuckin' loves being stuffed," Will replied with a low chuckle, yanking Frankie forward by his hair and shoving his now fully hard cock into his mouth. It was the kind of rough Frankie was already well acquainted with when it came to Will, and he welcomed it with gratitude. He closed his eyes and allowed Will's cock to sink into his mouth like Benny's had, then swallowed around it, tightening the walls of his throat and gagging around the large intrusion.

"Yeah, choke on it, baby," Will muttered, gripping both sides of Frankie's head with a groan, "Baby boy."

Baby boy. That was a new one, especially from Will, but Frankie certainly wasn't complaining. He swallowed around him again, feeling his own cock bob against his stomach as he continued to worship Will's dick. There was only so much of the sensation that Will could take, and before long he too was pulling out of Frankie's mouth and resuming his slow strokes, breathing heavily.

"M'your baby boy," Frankie murmured to the three of them, Will's words still echoing in his mind. His voice was already completely shot, rough and scratchy from the two large cocks that had invaded his throat.

"You are," Santiago cooed, leaning forward to gently tap the head of his own cock against Frankie's bottom lip, "You're our baby boy, Frankie. Our good, pretty, perfect boy, huh?"

Yes, Frankie wanted to whisper, it's all I am. It's all I wanna be. But his mouth was already being filled a third time, this time by Santi's cock - the thickest of the three. His vision blurred with tears as it stretched his lips, the masculine taste dripping on the back of his tongue and down his throat. He'd had Santi's cock in his mouth the most out of everyone's; had fallen asleep a few times suckling on the tip of it while Santi murmured praise, like a comfort, a constant.

He knew exactly what Santi liked, what he didn't, how to tease him, how to get him there. Immediately, Frankie curled his tongue around the wide head, dipped the tip of it into Santi's slit and carefully fucked it in and out while suctioning the rest. He kept his eyes open this time even though they burned with tears, allowing himself to meet Santiago's gaze just how he knew he liked it.

"Oh, good boy," Santi praised softly, thumbing Frankie's cheeks and letting the head of his cock sit just inside the wet heat of his mouth, "Suckin' on that cock like it's my thumb, huh? Just how you like it?"

Now that was something unbeknownst to Benny and Will. They knew Santi liked to fuck Frankie sometimes, but they didn't know much about the logistics, the positioning, the way it worked. More often than not, Frankie would suck on Santi's thumb when he was being fucked, liked the feeling of having both his holes full at the same time. It felt complete somehow, safe. God, what would it feel like now if Santi were to fuck him and let Benny or Will fuck his throat? What would it feel like to be truly filled up like that, the way he'd always imagined? His cock twitched against his belly again, still untouched, still pulsing, and he moaned around Santi's cock.

"I think our baby boy needs a little break," Santi murmured softly, "Shh, it's okay, Frankie, it's alright," he slowly pulled his cock from Frankie's lips and allowed him to catch his breath, chest heaving. He felt multiple hands petting his hair, stroking his cheeks, thumbing his temples. Someone brushed one of his nipples, pinched it ever so gently and then did the same to the other one.

"Sweet little things," Will murmured, and that answered that.

"He really is a fucking godsend, Pope," Benny breathed, disbelief and awe playing at the edge of his voice, "Softest mouth I've ever felt."

"His eyes are what get me," Santi replied, and Frankie felt him take his cap off and toss it to the side, then a pair of lips kiss his forehead, "He's got the prettiest brown eyes, look so beautiful when he's got that wet mouth all full."

The way they talked about him, like he wasn't even there, like he was just a toy, something to play with, an object - it was so much. It was too much. He leaned back on his haunches and whimpered, eyes fluttering open as he looked up at his friends, still standing in front of him with their now very wet cocks in their hands.

"Put them on my face," he begged, voice broken and haggard, "All of them, please."

"Fuck," Benny gasped out, and without hesitation he placed the entire length of his cock along Frankie's cheek and forehead, tapping it a few times and hissing, "There you go. There it is, baby boy."

"You go around the other side," Santi told Will, knowing he wouldn't want to touch Benny's cock, "Put yours upside down on his other cheek, I'll go middle."

Benny was still slapping Frankie's face gently with his cock, hissing and groaning out words of praise. Santi slapped his own down across the center of his face, along his nose and lips. His cock settled up against Benny's, and for the shortest of seconds Frankie noted that they rubbed them together without speaking, without looking at each other. Will joined them on the other side, his balls hanging low on Frankie's forehead and his tip jutting out near his chin. Three cocks, side by side, covering their friend's entire face.

"Slap him with them, he likes that," Benny said through gritted teeth, doing it again and again and reveling in the whimpers and whines Frankie was making below them, "Ohhh, he fuckin' loves that."

"I don't think I can last," Will spit, voice more strained than it had been before, "This is too much, I'm gonna blow my whole fuckin' load any minute now."

"No one's stopping you," Santi encouraged, "Doesn't matter when we come, what matters is we do it all over his face. Cover him with it."

"Oh, he's gonna be fuckin' drenched," Benny groaned, eyes closing as he stilled his slapping movements to hold back his own orgasm. His voice was wild now, desperate, "I wanna come in his mouth, I call dibs."

"You hear that, Frankie, baby?" Santi murmured with a sly smile, "Benny called dibs on filling your mouth."

Frankie wouldn't have responded even if he could, just let out another whimpering moan and dropped his jaw, lolled his tongue out so his friends could take turns tapping the heads of their cocks against it. He was covered in precum, felt it dribbling down his chin and forehead, collecting behind his teeth and dripping down the back of his throat.

"Let him suck," Will hissed, "Let him suck mine one more time." At his words, Benny and Santi moved out of the way as best they could, Santi tapping Frankie's eyelid with his cock while Benny smeared more precum into his forehead. They watched as Frankie carefully suckled Will's tip into his mouth, closed his lips around him and hummed.

"Put it in your throat, baby boy," Will told him firmly, "Swallow around it, there you go. Thaaat's a good boy."

Gurgling sounds were coming from Frankie's gag reflex but he didn't stop or pull away, kept doing exactly what he knew Will needed as he swallowed him down. It took barely any time at all for it to be too much for Will to handle, and before any of them knew it he was pulling out and pumping his cock furiously over Frankie's face. Benny and Santi stepped back - they all knew what was coming.

"Don't come in his mouth, I called dibs," Benny warned, and Frankie could have sworn he heard Santiago chuckle.

"Keep your eyes closed, Fish," Will muttered, directly in front of him now as the wet sounds of his fist slipping up and down his cock filled the room, "Gonna paint that pretty little face and those sweet little nipples."

Franke whimpered, keeping his eyes closed as he continued to listen to what was going on around him. He could hear Santi and Benny still jerking themselves a few steps away, but Will's grunts and groans were the most prominent, the most present. And only a few seconds later he felt the first splash of cum hit his face - his left cheek.

"There it is," Santi egged Will on, "There he goes."

Another rope of cum landed on his forehead, dripped down onto his eyebrow. Then another on his chin. He listened as Will let out one more groan, still pumping his cock as he aimed at Frankie's bare chest. He felt two more spurts trickle down both of his nipples, sensitive and hard, and that was it.

"Fuck," Will groaned, satisfaction plain as day in his voice, "Fuck, Frankie."

He opened his eyes and was met with Will's cock, tight in his fist. Without hesitation he leaned forward and brought the tip gently into his mouth, licking off the excess cum as Will brought his hand down to play with Frankie's curls. He sucked for a few seconds, placed a soft kiss to the tip - his favorite spot - and then looked up to meet Will's gaze, a dazed little smile playing on his lips.

"Give it one more little kiss, baby boy," Will murmured, "Just one more." Frankie did as he was told, eyelashes fluttering as he kissed the sticky tip once more, and then Will was backing up to let Santi and Benny back into their spots.

"You're a good boy, Fish," he murmured, tucking himself back into his pants. "Mind if I watch the rest?"

"Please stay," Frankie managed to breathe, and the movement of his face caused some of the cum in his eyebrow to trickle downwards, dipping into the crevice of his nose. Will smiled and nodded, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall to observe.

"Won't be much longer now, Francisco," Santi told him softly, shuffling forward to carefully fill Frankie's mouth again with his dick. He watched with fascination as Frankie slowly bobbed on it, like muscle memory as he breathed evenly through his nose. "M'close. I think Benny's close too."

"You look so fuckin' good with all that cum on your face," Benny told him, voice almost pained, "Gonna look even better with more."

Surprisingly, Frankie pulled off Santi's dick without being told to do so and peered over at Benny with hunger in his eyes, "Can you... can I..." he cut himself off, going bright red as he looked back to Santi for reassurance.

"What is it, baby?" Santi asked softly, brow furrowing, "You good? You need to take a break?"

Frankie shook his head quickly, "N-no, I just...I..." he bit his lip and hoped his sudden idea wasn't about to be shot down, "Can you put them both in at the same time?"

A beat of silence. Then-

"Fuck," Benny groaned, "Fuck, that's hot." There was no doubt in Frankie's mind now that Benny had quite liked having his dick so close to Santi's, so it made him grin when Benny moved forward to stand beside his friend and jut his cock out toward Frankie's mouth.

"Open up, Fish."

Dropping his jaw once again and staring wide eyed up at his teammates, cum still fresh and sticky all over his face, Frankie allowed Benny and Santi to slide both their cocks into his waiting mouth. The feeling was insane. The taste was insane. All masculine and heady and musky and wet, the smell of sweat and raw sex invading his nostrils as they both pushed their dicks further in alongside each other. Frankie felt two hands in his hair, one of Santi's and one of Benny's, holding him still.

"Oh fuck, I need a picture of this," Benny groaned, blinking furiously as he peered down at where he and Santi's dicks jutted out from Frankie's mouth. "Will, grab Pope's camera, I'm serious. I need to remember this."

As Will made his way to the bunks, Frankie continued to blink slowly and languidly, tongue almost lazily swirling along the fat heads of the two big cocks in his mouth. They were dripping everywhere, warm and sticky, layering the back of his tongue with all of their arousal. And he was so fucking overwhelmed.

"Two cocks," Santi breathed, thumbing a bit of Will's cum that had begun to dry on Frankie's cheek, "Two fat cocks for Frankie, huh?"

"Look at how his lips stretch," Benny added, pushing his cock in the tiniest bit further to watch how Frankie's mouth adjusted to the size, "S'like he was made for it."

"He was made for it," Santi agreed softly, pushing some hair out of Frankie's face and tucking it behind his ear, "Huh, Francisco? Were you made for this?"

Another slow blink and an even slower nod, careful not to dislodge the appendages in his mouth. Benny assessed the door Will had left through and then hesitated for a moment before turning to Santi and whispering, "You feel good, Pope," under his breath.

"So do you," Santi replied with a smile, "Y'got a nice dick."

Benny seemed a bit flustered, avoiding Santiago's gaze as he muttered, "Thanks."

Will rejoined them a few seconds later, Santiago's polaroid camera in hand. Frankie watched with pleasure as Will brought the camera over his head and faced it downwards, preparing the shot.

"Chipmunk cheeks," Will murmured fondly, snapping the picture with a smile, "This'll do great for the annual Christmas card, huh boys?" It was a joke of course; they all knew that what was happening right would more than likely never leave the base, but Santi and Benny laughed nonetheless, pushing their cocks just a little bit more into Frankie's mouth.

"He's full," Benny murmured, "All filled up."

"Not entirely," Santi chuckled, "But close enough."

Their teasing words, their smiles and their laughs, it was making Frankie crazy. His untouched cock was still bobbing on its own accord, twitching and dripping as they talked about him like he wasn't even there. He was going to come soon, he just knew it, and the thought alone made him whine around his friend's dicks, his eyes rolling back.

"Shh, it's okay, Francisco," Santi reassured him softly, "Just give us one more minute to enjoy this, okay? Will's gonna take a few more pictures. You just stay still and keep suckin' on those cocks."

"You got this, Fish," Benny murmured, "You can do it, you're a good boy."

I am, Frankie thought to himself as he closed his eyes and heard the snap of another photo, I am a good boy.

Will took two more pictures with the camera so they'd each have one, tugging the polaroids out as they developed and waving them in the air. This was better than any porno magazine they'd ever be able to stow away, something real and raw, perfect spank bank material.

"I want the first one, where his eyes are open," Santi told Will when he was done, "Calling dibs."

"You got it."

Finally, Benny and Santi pulled themselves slowly out of Frankie's mouth, leaving him nothing but a drooling, lightheaded mess on his knees in front of them. He gasped for breath, head going down as he coughed and spluttered. He felt Will's hands patting his back, helping him through it as his chest heaved.

"Gonna come all over that pretty face, Fish," he heard Benny groan, "Open that mouth again, gonna fill it up."

With all the strength he could muster, Frankie tilted his head up and shakily opened his mouth again. His jaw was sore and aching but he knew he could last a little longer, knew he could give his friends what they needed before he collapsed in a heap on the floor. He watched as Benny jerked his cock in front of his face, watched the way his precum bubbled and spilled at the tip before being replaced with ropes and ropes of hot cum. If Benny was known for anything when it came to their little extracurriculars, it was certainly the ridiculous amount of spend he was able to produce.

"Right in the back of his fuckin' throat," he groaned, watching as it spurted into Frankie's open mouth, "Knew I had perfect aim." He redirected the head of his cock to further paint more of Frankie's face, covering him with thick white all over his cheeks and lips. "Don't swallow it, Fish," he managed to moan out, "Keep aaaall of it in there for me like the good boy you are."

A few more spurts along his neck and chest, one more in his mouth, and then Benny was tapping the head of his cock against Frankie's tongue again, watching as the last few drops spilled out onto it. Frankie peered up at him with heavy lids, a low moan emitting from the back of his throat.

"Yeah," Benny breathed, tapping his tongue again, "That's for you, s'all for you." He pulled his cock out and took a step back, nodding toward Santi, "Go ahead, man. I think he's spent."

"He'll be okay," Santi said softly, shuffling in front of Frankie again and pressing the sticky tip of his cock to the corner of his cum-filled mouth, "Huh, baby? Can you last a little longer? Just a few more minutes for me?" Frankie nodded and he smiled, "Open wide, baby boy."

"Come on, I don't want him to swallow it yet," Benny said a little exasperatedly as Santi slipped the head of his cock past Frankie's lips, the tiniest bit of Benny's cum dribbling from the left corner of his mouth.

"He won't swallow," Santi murmured, "He's just gonna get my dick a little wet." He looked up to share a knowing look with Benny, like a little secret between them, and Benny turned bright red.

At his words, Frankie swirled Benny's cum around the head of Santi's cock, coating it in the salty substance. He gazed up into Santi's eyes as he did it, almost like he was silently whispering to him, pleading; I'm ready now, I'm ready for you to give it to me.

"Okay, Francisco," Santi whispered, just for him, "Lo has hecho tan bien." You've done so well.

He pulled out of Frankie with a pornographic squelching sound and began to work Benny's cum and Frankie's saliva up and down the length of his cock, still staring directly into Frankie's deep brown eyes. He bit down on his bottom lip, brows furrowing as he brought himself closer and closer to the edge.

"Ask for it," he said quietly, edged with something unhinged.

"Please," Frankie breathed, voice garbled and muffled by the cum in his mouth and the ache in his throat, "Please come on me, Santi."

And that was enough.

"Mierda," Santi groaned out, stomach tensing as his thick cock twitched in his grasp. Frankie didn't close his eyes this time, kept them locked onto Santi's as cum drenched his face. It splashed along his cheek and nose in short bursts, dripped down his neck and collected in the corners of his mouth. Without being able to help it, he popped his mouth open one final time to allow Santi to add more cum to the cocktail on his tongue.

"Christ," Will muttered a few steps away, "Would ya look at that?"

"This," Benny sighed, a smile in his voice, "This is what we needed. Fuck Redfly, man."

In any other circumstance Santiago probably would have smacked Benny on the back of the head for disrespecting the team leader, but he was a little more than preoccupied at the moment. He was still staring down into Frankie's eyes, lost in a daze as Frankie tugged him back into his mouth with his tongue and sucked the last remaining spurt of cum from the tip of his cock.

"C'mere, watch him swallow," Santi gestured for the others to join him, and they all resumed their positions in front of Frankie with heavy lidded eyes as they watched him suck.

"Show us first," Benny murmured, "Come on, Fish, show us what's in your mouth, huh?"

Releasing Santi's cock with a pop, Frankie carefully opened his mouth to show his friends the pool of cum swirling on his tongue, dripping down into the soft pockets of his cheeks. Practically in awe, they all stared as he played with it, twisted his tongue back and forth and moving the thick globs of cum from one side of his mouth to the other.

"Swallow," Santi whispered, and Frankie obeyed.

It felt like heaven going down his throat, thick and warm. His eyes rolled a little, tongue darting behind his teeth to lick any that he'd missed, swallowing again and then dropping his jaw to show them his clean tongue, mouth empty.

"Good boy."

They stood there in silence for a moment, almost in reverence. Frankie was a mess, covered in three thick loads of spend and still on his knees with his cock bobbing against his stomach. He was so aroused it was almost painful, the head of his cock pulsing along with his heartbeat as he waited for an order, a command. He whined a little, waiting for someone to do something.

"Untie him," Santi finally told Benny with a smirk, "I think he's ready now."

Ready was an understatement. So much of an understatement in fact that Benny had barely brushed against Frankie's hands to untie the string when Frankie was suddenly letting out the loudest moan of the night, high and unbridled and full of pleasured desperation. Benny practically ripped the string from his hands to turn around and get a better look, watching with wide eyes as Frankie started to come with his cock completely untouched.

It was truly a sight to behold. His three friends stood frozen with their eyes glued to Frankie's cock as it bobbed and twitched of it's own accord, slapped repeatedly against his own stomach and dipped into his belly button. They watched as thick ropes of cum began to spill from his weeping tip, painting his stomach and chest, his chin, the floor. His balls shivered and tightened, more spurting out again and again as he writhed and shook on his knees, making the most pathetic little sounds as his eyes rolled.

Four loads now.

They were all in shock. They'd known he could do it, had felt him come in his pants untouched more than enough times at that point to know it was possible for him. But Christ, they'd never seen anything like it.

The room went silent as Frankie caught his breath, as he came down from his untouched orgasm and his loud outburst. They all watched as his cock continued to twitch with aftershocks, Benny letting out a soft groan when a little more cum dribbled from the tip. And then it was over.

More silence, save for Frankie's gasps and whimpers. And then Will took a step forward.

"Thank you, Fish," he told him earnestly, patting him on the shoulder and squeezing it gently, "That was... fuck. Thank you. You're fuckin' incredible."

Frankie looked up at him through fluttering lashes and nodded with a small smile, and then Will disappeared back to the bunks.

Benny was next. He got down on Frankie's level and came face to face with him, a grin on his face, "You're so pretty, Frank," he told him softly, "And you did so good. S'at what you needed?" Frankie nodded and Benny ruffled his hair a little bit, "Thanks, man. Thank you. We're gonna kill it tomorrow."

He followed his brother back to the bunks, leaving just Frankie and Santi alone together. Just like Benny had, Santi kneeled down to meet Frankie at eye level, picking up his cap along the way and carefully placing it on top of Frankie's head with a smile.

"Did I do good?" Frankie asked him softly, voice hoarse.

Santiago smiled even wider, pulled the cap down a bit further and murmured, "Si, Francisco. Perfecto."

A sleepy and sated grin lit up Frankie's cum-coated face. He could still feel everything, the thick layer of spend on his cheeks and chest, his slowly softening cock, the ache in his jaw - and he loved all of it. It felt right. So fucking right.

"Can you take a picture?" he suddenly asked, eyes alight, "Of me? Like this? I wanna... I wanna keep it. To remember it."

Santi's eyes softened even more, hand coming up to gently stroke Frankie's bare shoulder, "I can do that."

Santi grabbed the polaroid camera, held it front of his face and peered down at Frankie with a fond smile as his friend looked up at him softly, tiredly. "Show me those eyes, Francisco," he murmured, and Frankie halted the fluttering of his lashes to give the camera his ultimate fucked-out expression, a smile playing at his lips. The camera flashed and Santi pulled out the developed picture, waving it in the air as he settled back down in front of Frankie.

"Look at all this," he murmured softly, reaching up to gently thumb a bit of the cum on Frankie's face and scoop it carefully into his friend's mouth. Frankie sucked Santi's thumb with ease, sleepy and docile.

"S'yours," Frankie breathed when Santi pulled it back out.

Santi raised an eyebrow, "Mine?"

"What you just put in my mouth," Frankie clarified with a flush to his cheeks, "That was yours."

"You can tell?"

Frankie nodded with a soft chuckle, "Yeah, I can tell you all apart."

And if that wasn't the hottest thing Santiago had ever heard in his life.

Getting up from the floor was a bit of a task, but Santi helped him every step of the way. He lead Frankie to the showers where he let him lean against the wall, let him bask in the warmth of the hot water and the feeling of soap and shampoo as Santi worshipped him in a different way, a new way. Pressed kisses to his temples and his forehead, took his time lathering Frankie's arms and legs, gently cleaned his coated face and spent cock. And when he was done, Santi wrapped him in a towel and brought him back to his bunk, laid beside him and kissed him slow and deep until it felt like all that existed was just the two of them, nobody else.

He'd placed the polaroid in Frankie's bedside table and stroked his hair, murmured those familiar soft and gentle praises as he drifted to sleep.

Needless to say, their first mission was a success.

You're lying down with him now. It's well past midnight, moonlight streaming in through your bare-bones new bedroom as you peer at him quietly from under your lashes. He looks tired - he's been talking for over an hour now.

"There's more," he murmurs, eyes drooping, "More happened after that, a lot more, but I-"

"You've told me more than enough," you whisper, "You've been so honest, Frankie." Your thumb comes up to stroke his cheek, your mouth turning up slightly at the corners when his eyes start to close, "Thank you for telling me about that."

He hums, breathes deeply as sleep slowly starts to find him. You can't help but stare at him, watch his face turn peaceful, the lines in the corners of his eyes smoothing out, his full lips relaxing into a natural frown. He's so beautiful. He's so.... good.

You think of him back then, the way he probably used to be. So unsure, so new to the real world and so close to facing things he'd never anticipated. You picture him lying in his bunk with Will above him, Santi and Benny beside him, Tom somewhere else, somewhere distant - it makes sense now. It all makes sense.

And now he's lying in his own bed, in his own house, years later - with you. You, the only thing you think has really made sense to him for a long time, the only thing that's helped him overcome some of life's worst obstacles, the pain and the trauma from the shit he's dealt with throughout his life.

But despite all of this, despite the past few years you've spent together, you suddenly can't help but wonder where he'd be right now if you hadn't met.

Would he be in Santiago's bed?

You slip out from under the blankets and grab your phone from your nightstand, making sure to turn out the light before heading to the kitchen. Your nostrils are met with the smell of fresh paint and leftover chow mein as you flick on the overhead and settle yourself on one of the stools at the kitchen island.

Unsure exactly why, you unlock your phone and scroll through your contacts, biting your lip as you search for Santiago's name. When you finally find it, you tap on it, feeling something odd sink in your heart when you see the lack of messages. You've never texted him? Not even once? You lean back and try to think of the last time you even had a conversation alone with him without Frankie or the others there, just a one-on-one interaction... and you come up blank.

He'd been such a huge part of Frankie's life. And still is now - still sees him on weekends, goes to games and bars, came over to the old apartment for drinks and dinner pretty regularly. He's been there for Frankie in ways you never could have imagined or guessed, took care of him and comforted him, would probably take a bullet for him - hell, he actually might've for all you know.

You look back down at your phone and stare at the blank space where words should be, feel that guilt from earlier rise in your chest and make a home in the form of a lump in your throat.

You start typing out a message.

#frankie morales fic #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x triple frontier boys #PPCUGiftExchange2024 #frankie morales x reader #*

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jolalibrary · 6 months ago

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14. soft periwinkle

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter fourteen of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 3.8k chapter warnings: dad!frankie, luca appears. frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. brief mention of frankie’s sobriety. an: thank you so much for being patient for this chapter, things are still odd at home but I've missed this pair so much <3

prev chapter | series masterlist

key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics

Limbs stretching out, sheets rustling, your smile grows as your hand remains clasped around the phone as you bring it to your ear—

Good morning, baby.

It’s a sound that's so perfect. Just for you.

It's a sound that's so perfect. Just for you. A treat to enjoy each day—sometimes this way, sometimes in person. Still, it's almost cruel when a day starts so perfectly but doesn't end that way. You whisper your response back, even though there's no one in the house you need to be quiet for.

But it’s instinct, just like loving him is.

I love you, Frankie whispers—deep, a little gruff, voice muddled still with sleep. I love you, you repeat back, eyes staring at the photograph on your bedside table.

The one on his side of the bed. Because you have sides now.

You’d printed it the other week and chose the frame a week before that. Eyes flicking over photo-him, how his chin is raised, eyes closed, little lines in the corners from how much he’s laughing as one arm keeps you close, and he rests his other hand on the top of his abdomen.

You hadn’t taken it, Benny had. Sent it to you thirty minutes after he’d snapped it without the two of you knowing.

When will you be here? Frankie's honeyed voice asks, making you sit up from the pillows, push down the duvet. Once it’s delivered, I’ll head right to yours. I’ll be there soon, you whisper—hearing him groan as he stretches.

But soon hadn't needed to feel this long.

Busying yourself, mug in hand—warm against your palm—you lean in the doorway of the office he's built, noticing the time. How it rudely ticks on, widening the gap from the end of the call to the moment you'd hoped to be with him.

You’ve found yourself lingering in this doorway a lot lately, piecing it together, almost trying to recall what it looked like before he’d gotten his magic touch on it. The final touches are almost ready to be made, with the blinds due to be fitted soon.

And this morning, the sun has been trying to show, ready to drape the space in warm gold—little rays of light trying to break through clouds, show more than just spots of cyan between the fluffiest white.

Phone buzzing, you pull it from your back pocket, finding you’re the next stop. A thing you already knew from tracking it since you’d risen. Glancing at the little dot as it bounced around the streets as you checked your emails, showered, dressed and made coffee.

His coffee. Not able to go back now you’ve tried it.

The bubble of anxiety in your chest flares as you drain your cup. It doubles when you place it in the sink. Wiping your hands on a dishcloth, you linger close to the front window, hoping it’s perfect—knowing it needs to be.

Not that there’s any time to fix it if it isn’t.

Not even a backup plan made, a thing you half-kick yourself for as the truck pulls up outside. As your fingers flex and you dig your nails into your thighs—not wanting to open the door and wait, appear impatient; but also not wanting to spare any seconds from not being able to check it.

Not that you’d even needed to worry.

A thing that made you grin the entire drive over, keys jangling up his drive, pushing open Frankie’s front door, closing it behind you as you shout, “Luca?”

There’s a pause.

Then you hear him.

Excited bare feet slapping against the floor, thrill filling your chest, eroding all earlier worries as you move to the living room, kneel on the rug as the little boy runs to you dressed in a white onesie, various shades of dinosaurs at all angles covering it.

An outfit you remember Frankie telling you about the other week.

“Oh, well don’t you look cool?”

Grinning, spotting the smallest gap in his smile, remembering the panicked conversation Frankie had reenacted when he’d called Sam, as the man himself waves at you from the kitchen.

“You like?”

“Of course, you look so cool, Luca!”

“Cooler than Daddy?”

Flicking your eyes to Frankie, half-smirking. “Don’t tell him, but yes. Anyway, I’ve got something for you.”

Pointing at himself, he grins even wider—if that is at all possible. “For me?”

Crouching down, you slide onto your knees, before pulling open the paper bag that crinkles as you gently take out the white t-shirt inside, unfolding it, showing it to him.

And the look, as you expected, is priceless. His eyes widen, joy exploding in them as his finger gently, all but cautiously, scratches at the drawn image now ink-printed on. All you can do is watch, practically fixated on his little brown eyes tracing every element of the thing the two of you had huddled around your laptop over. How a few weeks ago, he had huddled close, dug his knees into your thigh and let you show him how he could arrange it all. His little finger guided by yours until the drawn image he’d crayoned into paper sat where he wanted on the screen, joined by the photo Frankie had found of Luca and Sam were in position. Wanna add some dinosaurs? you’d asked, aiding him in choosing cartoon dinosaurs and stars until he was happy.

“You made this! Can you believe it?”

Nodding, he continues to stare, finger-stroking at one particular photo on the t-shirt. “Mommy will like I thinks.”

“I think she’s going to love it. I bought some gift wrap—do you want to try and do it with me later?”

Nodding again, but more enthusiastically, his hands interlock in front of him. Doing a little wiggle as he stares, as he moves from the t-shirt to you.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime,” you say. “I’m going to fold this up—just so we don’t get it dirty. And then later, we can wrap all the other things for Mommy before she picks you up.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” you repeat, watching him hesitate.

A beat occurs. The t-shirt slid safely back into its bag before you feel it—little arms, the familiar scent of laundry and the softness of new fleece. A warmth exploding in you that makes you almost well up, a desperation to cling a little tighter when your arms instinctively move around him, hugging him back as little breaths tickle your ear.

“Thank you, Rainy.”

Your face shifts, trying not to choke up at the nickname coming from his mouth as your eyes meet Frankie’s in the doorway—the biggest smirk on his face.

“You’re welcome, Luca,” you whisper, as the two of you release.

It’s not even a second, barely a moment to take in what has happened before Luca shouts (enthusiastically) that he has a new toy—running back off, barely aware of the size or significance of his hug.

Fingers wiping your eyes, giving Frankie a don’t start expression as he offers his hand out to you.

“Coffee?”

Laughing, letting him pull you up, you nod, “Please.”

Sliding your arm around his back, half walking and half being led to the kitchen, unsure how you could ever begin to describe the content feeling pulsing inside of you.

“You okay?”

Nodding, you wipe another tear, staring at him, before you press a kiss to his lips. “Hi.”

“Hi, baby.”

Have I told you how happy it makes me when I get the notification that you've posted and I find you looking so good?

Do I need to know how to build decking in Will's yard? No. Do I suddenly want you to dick me? Yes.

When did you start uploading hour-long videos?

Morales, I don't think you know how hot you look laying planks of wood.

Didn't know laying decking would get you so worked up.

Anything you do gets me worked up, keep up.

How worked up are you?

Worked up enough that I'm wondering if your lunch can be extended or whether I should go for an afternoon nap.

Your code for naps is broken. I know what that means now.

I trust you with my secret. Especially since you love my naps.

I do. But then I love everything about you.

Am I going for a nap alone, Morales?

No, but start without me, but do not finish.

Did you send flowers to my house?

The card saying Frankie didn’t give it away?

I got a card saying Maurice. Are you telling me your name is Maurice Francisco Morales?

Fuck. They must have misheard me when I called them at drop-off.

Well, they’re lovely, Maurice. I’m very excited to be wined and dined by you—are you sure 8pm isn’t too late for you?

Hilarious.

Do you have to be careful of what you eat? In case you’re up all night.

I’m hoping to be up all night anyway.

You mean with me right? Not with indigestion.

Have I told you how funny you are?

Not today. They are really pretty, Frankie.

I can’t wait to pick you up tonight.

I can’t wait to forget to put underwear on.

Fuck.

For the amount of time it’s taken for the two of you to get here, as soon as he holds the door for you, you can see it was worth it.

A thing you feel you should have known before now, when he’d showed up to pick you up with flowers in a nice shirt and a pair of slacks eyes widening at the sight of you—a scratchy, syllable broken fuck, you look beautiful leaving his lips as you try not to drag him into your home.

You only stop yourself from doing so because he’d insisted on treating this like a real date, and not just going out for food. Something you’d reminded him when his mouth slid over yours, when your spine met the front of your door and his knee tried to slot itself between your legs—hitching the fabric further and further up your knees. Chest heaving, already sure that the thin fabric between your legs is damp with want.

“If you do this now, you’ll ruin your surprise,” you say against his parted lips, eyes flicking up, finding pupils almost swallowing brown. “It’s a good surprise too. Lacy. New.”

You were still thinking of the groan he emitted when he told the hostess his name.

Tearing your eyes away from his, you sweep them slowly over the restaurant, the urge to tighten your fingers around his hand almost unbearable as your heart swells with a tender ache.

Because the restaurant is nice, really nice. It’s nothing short of warm, romantic—cosy. Each table is graced with a flickering candle, casting a gentle, golden glow that pirouettes on the walls. Fairy lights drape like delicate garlands over the bar area, the twinkling reflections like constellations in a night sky.

The deep red walls are decorated with local art, each piece telling a story with little tags beneath them highlighting the name and price of the creators as your gaze lingers on a particular painting. It’s a street, one a few blocks from here, Harold’s in the corner, nestled close to the edge, yet it holds its presence with quiet confidence.

By the time you’re seated, the sounds and murmurs of other diners have blended into a soft, melodic hum that mixes with the soft acoustic music. The air is tinged with rosemary with cooked dishes that flutter past on trays with swirling steam.

You can understand why it’s a place he’d wanted to bring you. Why there had been nothing but disappointment in his voice when he’d had to cancel all those months ago.

Your eyes gaze at him as he sits, dropping the stare when you brush your fingers over the leather menu—lips curling into your cheek at the sight of the candle flickering between the two of you.

“Big enough for you?”

Smirking, you bite down a laugh as you unfold your menu. “More than appropriately sized—you undersold yourself.”

Reaching across for you, your hand slides into his—finding itself home as his thumb slides over yours. Staring at the appetisers, the mains, it all sounds far too good, making it far too hard to choose. Eyes scanning over each, unsure what it is that you both want to eat or feel safe to eat—not sure if you’ve packed mints or if there’s a convenient way to brush your teeth between getting back and taking him to bed.

“I think I mentioned it, but you look good.”

“Oh, do I? I… I was not aware. Must have gotten lost in you pressing me against my front door.”

Snorting, he shakes his head, eyes lingering, something there etched and hanging.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

You don’t buy it, gripping his hand a little tighter—tilting your head to ensure your eyes lock onto his. “Frankie,” you say softly. Silently letting tell me to be spoken wordlessly.

“Sometimes I can’t believe that you’re mine.”

Tightening your hold on his hand, ignoring how your neck is warm, your chest and ears, you let a smile broaden out. More so, when his palm twists, interlocking your fingers.

“Believe it, I'm not going anywhere.”

Your lips remain parted, more words wishing to fall, willing themselves to. But you stop, staring at his thumb as it circles over your knuckles.

“Not… even to the bathroom?”

Laughing softly, you squeeze his hand again, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. “Well, maybe for that. But I promise to come straight back.”

Smiling, it sliding into his cheek, he swallows before whispering okay.

“Can’t believe I met you because I decided to be spontaneous and try and dabble at DIY.”

Brushing his thumb over your fingers, he grins—that one which crinkles his eyes and makes his teeth show. “Can’t believe I gave such good service you stalked me a few days later.”

“I did not.”

“I don’t blame you Rainy, I look good in an apron.”

Shaking your head, exhaling loudly you lower your gaze to your menu. “Look better in just your hat, Morales.”

“Glad I’ve got it in the truck then.”

Just finished the project, I’m done. All signed off. No more Mr Grump. So, how’s the second grump in my life?

I’m not grumpy.

It’s okay that you are, your son is on vacation.

I ate chicken nuggets and waffle fries for dinner.

Oh, baby. But was it good?

Ridiculously good. No wonder the kid is mad for them.

Do you want me to come over? I know you have work early and I can bring my laptop, work from yours tomorrow while you’re out.

I’d like that. But only if you want to.

Yeah, of course I do! I get to use my key!

You still at home?

It shouldn’t make you smile, but it does.

Blooms over your face, makes you feel ridiculous, like you want to kick your feet out from under his blanket and shriek with joy. Because it’s simple; you know it’s a slip-up as he likely rushes from thing to thing.

I am. You/we are running low on groceries? Wanna go grocery shopping with me Rainy? Only if you let me push the cart.

He’d already called you on his lunch, told you how Harold had struggled with his breathing again, that he should be done in an hour, maybe two. I’m not going anywhere. Yeah? You’d only realised you’d been nodding when he called out your name and you quickly responded with a year.

In truth, you hadn’t left his home in four days.

A thing you’re beginning to feel increasingly guilty about. Like you’d moved in without as much as asking. Your things had found themselves even more with his, and deep down—later confirmed when you’d called a friend to catch up—you realised you didn’t even really miss your own place.

A thing which should feel odder than it does; a thing you turn over when you lock his door and head out to him as he pulls up to grab you. It turns over and over, almost folding in on itself by the time he’s parked up and exiting, still telling you about how he’d helped a man who knew even less than you—a thing he hadn’t known was possible.

It isn’t until he collects a cart, and wheels it to you with ease, do you realise he’s made you. Known right under your smile and humour that you’ve been thinking something.

“Tell me.”

Smirking, you exhale, walking in with him through the automatic doors as you’re both washed over in air-conditioning. “I’m wondering whether I go back to mine tonight for just underwear and clothes or…?”

Adjusting his curls under this hat, he steps behind you to avoid shoppers leaving the store. “Do you... want to go home?”

You’re thankful his hand doesn’t move from your back, allowing you to root yourself to it, letting him lead you to the fresh produce.

“I don’t want to overstay my welcome, that’s all.” You watch as he grabs a plastic bag, glancing at you. An unreadable expression gliding across his face. “What?”

“Baby, if I could have my way, I’d never let you leave.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“I’m really fuckin' not.”

Swallowing, you feel a flutter. A spread of warmth slides out across your chest and through your lungs—the same one you feel when he looks at you for a little longer than normal. When his smile catches yours when you’re talking to Benny and he’s fetching drinks with Will.

Watching him tie the bag, placing it down carefully, he straightens back up.

“Do you want to go home tonight?”

Biting your lip, you shake your head. “I’m also worried if I stay for another week, like I want to, it’ll be really hard when I do go back.”

Snorting, he ties another bag—an assortment of shades beginning to make a pile in one corner. “So, for your sake—and mine—I should tie you to my bed?”

Glancing around, mouth open and eyes wide, you smirk. “Francisco.”

Shrugging, he grins, grabbing the end of the cart, leading you to another aisle—one quieter, fewer people.

“If I had brought my croissant pajamas, you’d want me to go home.”

Holding up two items to you, you point at one as he nods in agreement, shelving the other where he found it and adding the other to the cart. “Your croissant pajamas?”

Licking your lips, you pretend to be enamoured with some dried sauces. “Well, I have my sexy ones where I aim to be naked, then my cute-but-he-could-still-make-me-naked ones, and then I have my food ones.”

“The fact you’ve not shown me these before now upsets me.”

Laughing, you feel him tug on the cart, as you reluctantly follow. “Because you want to laugh?”

“No, because I think you’ll look hot in them and then I can see how many puns I can do before my mouth is between your thighs.”

He makes sure to look over his shoulder at the last part. A thing you both like and rather loathe all at once, especially here—in a place with people. Where you can smother your little tells, but likely not hide them well enough from him and the way he knows you so well.

“I do really like your cockiness.”

“Oh, Rainy. I know you like the first four letters of that last word.”

Nudging the cart into him, his laugh makes your chest bloom. Almost explode. A sound you’ve had the chance to experience in person more lately—a treat, a thing you’re not sure if you can so easily give back up.

“You fancy something in particular for dinner?”

“Not sure—we should buy dinosaur-shaped nuggies, though.”

Adjusting his hat, he comes to a stop before some frozen doors. “I can grab those before Luca is back—”

“For us, Morales.”

Narrowing his eyes, Frankie slowly tilts his head. “You been eating dinosaur nuggies, Rainy?”

“I cannot confirm or deny. But I will say there’s not an age on dinosaur nuggies.”

“Fuck, you have! You like dinosaur nuggets.”

Shrugging, mirroring him from before, his gooey smile slides up into one cheek—making that dimple appear, making it hard not to reach out and brush it with your finger and then your lips.

“We should buy some granola—maybe fruit? Be adult-like.”

Rocking his head from side to side, he shrugs, nodding,

“Hey,” you say, passing some cakes—large ones, lots of frosting, “It’s your birthday soon, isn’t it?”

Tearing his eyes from a shelf, thinking, he slowly nods.

“And, does that mean it’ll be your sixth year too?”

Fingers sliding over the cart handle, waiting, not pushing, he slowly grabs a box, placing it down with the other things, before moving closer around the cart. “You remembered?”

“Well, I love you, Morales. What’s important to you is important to me.”

Nodding, he scratches at his arm, momentarily looking lost in the cereal aisle. Like he's shrunk, lost. The shadow of his smile having faded, almost flattening to a thin line.

“Frankie?” you ask, watching in real-time as he comes back to you.

Like the world goes from black and white to colour.

“Do you... want to do anything for it?”

“My birthday?”

Smiling, you look down briefly before meeting his gaze. “No, your six years.”

Shrugging, he picks up a box, stares at the back of it, likely pretending to read it. To be in awe of it.

“What if I said I wanted to do something for it? To celebrate you. Would that be too much?” You wait a beat, watching him re-shelve the box, and his Adam's apple bobs in his neck. “It can be small. Just us. I can even just get you a cake, but no candle, of course.”

Snorting, he runs his palm along his chin. “Of course.”

“Think about it. Let me know,” you say, pushing the cart closer, nudging him with the end of it as he flicks his eyes to you.

And then it's slow, cautious.

Begins with a gradual lift of his knuckles under your chin when he's beside you, tipping your mouth up to meet his—and you swear you taste a thank you on your lips as he kisses you. As he places another, and another. Your hand slips to his lower back, feeling yourself want to turn and momentarily forget how public the two of you are, when you feel him ghost his mouth over yours, eyes slowly opening, practically drinking you in.

“Don’t go home just yet,” he says, your lips rolling together, fingers slowly splaying out on his back. “Unless you want to go, that is.”

“I don’t.”

“Then stay.”

“Okay.”

He doesn’t step back, not immediately, whispering an okay himself as his eyes flick from one of yours to the other. “Please bring your food pajamas.”

“You gonna promise me you’ll still love me?”

Pressing a kiss to your forehead, sliding your other hand from the cart as he steals it from under you, he grins. “Forever and ever.”

“I might hold you to that.”

He just grins. A knowing grin.

You find you don't hate the look one bit.

NEXT CHAPTER ->

we're almost to the end of this pair, and that hurts my soul. i'm going to miss them so much. thank you for all the support until now, and going forward. i adore each of you for coming along this ride with me, even if all i gave you was hardware frankie and some texts.

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal character fanfiction #triple frontier x reader #francisco morales fanfiction #frankie morales #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #francisco catfish morales x reader #catfish morales x reader #pedrostories #jo: dmy #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #francisco morales #francisco catfish morales

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afewfantasies · 3 months ago

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Lucky Strike 🎯 🎱 - BIKERIDERS - I

Pairing: Benny Cross (Bikeriders) X Reader

Summary: You come across your olderst friend when you least expect it under the most unexpected set of circumstances.

Word count: 1.1K

Based on

The kettle screams and you balance the task of breakfast alone. A cigarette hangs from your lips as you butter your toast. You scan for an ashtray in the motel and end up settling for a plate before removing the screaming kettle from the hot plate. Your eggs are ready just how you like them. Turning you allow your body to relax into the first bite. You chew with your eyes closed reprieve from a long and stressful travel day. The monotonous sound of the news plays in the background.

“Benjamin Cross” you hear faintly followed by a string of infractions. “The assailant” you hear only for the name to register. Eyes wide you head to the television and turn it up. A photograph, a mugshot of Benjamin Cross is on the screen. Your stomach falls, you don’t believe it. Excitement and distress stir as you bend slowly, now eye to eye with the photograph on the tv you can feel your heart racing. Goosebumps pepper your flesh as you find the eyes you used to know belong to this man. “He is awaiting bail for $2,500”.

The kettle is screaming again and you turn to realize you set it back onto the same already hot coils. You're screaming on the inside too as the screen fades to the much less attractive news anchor. Grabbing a jacket you tear out the door to the cabstand with your purse and half eaten breakfast on toast.

“Taxi!” You call.

“Where to Miss?” the cabby asks.

“Precinct” you smile and the man looks you over skeptically before obliging. The cabby continuously looks back as your smile grows. You’d finally found Benny. For fucksake, what had he done to get in so much trouble? Who had he become? The Benny you knew wasn’t a criminal but the victim of crime, the same as you. Poverty and parents ill equipped for happy marriages or family life were your oppressors. Your father was an abusive drunk incapable of holding down a job. Your mother a battered waitress. Benny’s father was a disabled war-hero who had seen better days and his mother had turned to hooking to pay the bills. Benny was the only person who knew the deep fear and shame you felt and you’d never had to explain the tirades to him. Just like he never explained the bitter arguments between his parents or his mother’s many boyfriends to you. There’d been nothing to say between the ages of six an nine years of age when the poorest side of town became your home. There was only room for survival. But Benny was kind even then offering you some of his lunches when your father drank or gambled away the grocery money. Offering you a safe place to sleep when your father was on a tear. By all accounts of your upbringing during those fundamental years you both should have been angry, bullies or dead from stress and neglect.

The cab comes to a halt and a select few of the Vandals wait outside. “Bunch of lowlives” the cab driver mutters. It’s not your immediate reaction to the colourful characters so you pay the cab driver getting out without comment. Whistling and catcalling erupts from the moment you step out of the car. You focus on the task at hand; freeing Benny and step inside the precinct. There are a few more Vandals inside talking amongst each other when you head to the reception desk.

“Now, how may I help you?” A chubby cob flirts with raised brows.

‘Well handsome, I wanted to know how much bail is for Benjamin Cross?” You flirt back and silence falls on the place. You can hear a pin drop. You notice the grungy looking men to your left side staring curiously, with other cops doing the same.

“Why would you need to know that?” The cop snaps soured. You turn unnerved by his change of tone.

“Never mind” you smile politely stepping back instead of getting into it with him. Looking back at the group of guys you sigh deciding to be brave. Here goes nothing. It takes moments for you to pick out the leader. Your eyes hold his and he steps forward.

“Johnny” he says looking you over skeptically. Suddenly you’re aware of how you might look to them. In your high priced dress with a high priced bag and shoes.

“What do you need to get him out today?” You ask looking up at Johnny.

“$250 is ten percent and we need it in the next hour and a half.” He says. Two hundred dollars is nothing to scoff at but you can’t hide your disappointment when between the gang of them it’s still a struggle. Opening your purse you procure the full payment placing the cash in Johnny’s hand.

“Who are you?” One of the guys asks. Johnny passes the cash to another guy who goes back to the chubby cop. Johnny watches you waiting for an answer and a woman rushes in.

“I’ve got $50 Johnny please tell me you have the rest.” She says, exasperated before turning “who are you?” she asks. Knowing her type well you opt against the truth. Something deep down tells you it’ll only cause complications.

“Johnny called in a favour” You smile using the newly acquired name to your advantage.

“It’s sorted Kathy” Johnny says placing a hand on the small of your back and leading you out of the precinct. His presence is paternal and his scowl demanding. More bikeriders have turned up outside and you wonder what kind of company Benny’s involved in if they can’t come up with $250. Or may be they get in trouble so often they’re stretched thin?

“Are you gonna tell me who you are?” Johnny interrupts and you look up at him.

“Y/N, we grew up together. I just got in town today and saw him on the news” you explain. Johnny relaxes a touch taking your word for it “Don’t tell Benny I paid it, he won’t take the money he’s too proud” your response tells Johnny you know Benny well.

“Darling them guys back there are gonna talk, fancy pants like you comes around in one of those high society dresses, people are gonna talk” Johnny explains.

“Just get Benny yesterday’s paper. Tell him to read the death announcements” you tell Johnny stepping down to find a cab stand.

“Y/N?” Johnny calls and you raise a brow.

“For your ride home, and if you ever need anything you ask for Johnny Vandal” he says giving you Kathy’s fifty and a cordial smile.

“Will do.” You nod taking off.

NEXT CHAPTER

___________

Authors note: The next update will be longer and you and Benny will meet again 🎆

TAGS:

@mrsalwayswrite @ughdontbeboring

#austin butler imagine #austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler x you #feyd rautha #feyd rautha x reader #black authors #benny cross bike riders #the bikeriders x reader #the bikeriders #benny cross imagine #benny cross #benny the bikeriders

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benny-travels · 5 months ago

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Benny visited a real life ostrich dragon! And a handsome one too!!

#benny travels #hlvrai benrey #ren faire #Free Spirit Parrot Sanctuary #Friend of the photographer

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herpsandbirds · 1 month ago

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Do you know about reptiles native to the Netherlands? I feel like we don't have many here because of the cold, wet climate :(

Dutch Reptiles:

Hello yes, there are a few reptiles found in the Netherlands. Here are a few of them...

European Pond Turtle (Emys orbicularis), family Emydidae, found

This species is only found in the border areas of the country and is very uncommon there.

photograph by Bernard DUPONT

Slow Worm (Anguis fragilis), family Anguidae

Also called Blindworm and Hazelworm.

Legless lizard.

photographs by Julien

Sand Lizard (Lacerta agilis), family Lacertidae

T - female, R - male

photographs by George Chernilevsky

Viviparous Lizard (Zootoca vivipara), family Lacertidae, Aamsveen, The Netherlands

photograph by Ocrdu

Smooth Snake (Coronella austriaca), family Colubridae

photograph by Mihai Si Furia Rosie

Grass Snake (Natrix natrix), family Colubridae

aka Ringed Snake or Water Snake

photograph by Mark Ollett

Common European Adder (Vipera berus), family Viperidae

photograph Benny Trapp

#reptile #europe #animals #nature #herpetology #snake #lizard #turtle

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bricktoygrapher · 2 years ago

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Benny's Tuk Tuk 🛺

He drives it like a spaceship. 🚀

This is my entry to the Toy Photographers Bingo 2023 challenge.

Prompt: Transportation ✔️

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storiesfromafan · 3 months ago

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Spark - Benny x Reader

A/N: this isn't apart of the series I'm writing, just a stand alone one-shot. I just have a thing for writing meet cutes with Benny x Reader. Maybe it could be its own series.

I got this idea from another one-shot where the reader is in collage with Danny, but I can't seem to find it so I could link it. But when I do, I will add it.

This is the product of a late night, awake till after 1am finishing lol.

Warning: fluff, a little tooth rot.

Books were great friends. They can always stimulate your mind, telling you classic stories and take you on endless adventures. But they could not completely replace physical, flesh friends. So, while in college you had a handful of friends, ones that understood your love for books. One of those friends being Danny, a student studying photography.

Danny is nice, smart and looking at the world through his camera lens, his photos showing you how he sees the world around you both. Because of this you were close, like siblings. And that was why you decided to visit him. He had told you how he was hanging out with a motorcycle group called The Vandals, he was talking about how he was photographing them for the summer and listening to their stories. You found it all so fascinating.

So, here you were, sitting in a large park in the heart of the town waiting on Danny to meet up with you. You had decided to grab lunch and catch up, before later on hitting up the bar The Vandals hung out at. While waiting you had your nose in a copy of Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte. A controversial novel for its time, even to today, but a guilty pleasure of yours. Who doesn’t love an anti-hero who gets revenge on the people that kept him from his love?

The loud roar of an approaching motorbike caught your attention, lifting your gaze you saw the bike pull up to the curb a few meters from where you sat. Upon the bike sat a man with greasy blonde hair, with matching stubble, dressed in black boots, dirty white jeans and a Vandals jacket. Sitting there with an idling bike, the man looked behind him before back to what was in front of him. He then turned his gaze in your direction, letting you see his gorgeous face.

You felt your breath get stuck in your chest when his eyes landed on you. How could this good-looking man have you in a choke hold? When he realized you were staring at him, a small smile formed on his full lips. Only making you melt more. He really should be illegal, for he could kill with just his looks alone.

You were unsure how long this moment between you and this Vandal lasted. But the arrival of another bike was what broke it. Hearing Danny’s voice brought you back to reality, turning from the man who had captured you, you saw Danny talking to another Vandal. You pieced together that Danny must have gotten a ride from him. You marked the page of your book before putting it away as Danny turned to see you. He smiled brightly as he called your name.

You returned his smile before getting up and hugging him when he made his way to you. Holding you at arm’s length Danny looked you over. Commenting how different you looked, to which you rolled your eyes, saying it hadn’t been that long since you’d seen each other.

A suggestive whistle caught both your attention, turning you saw both bikies watching you. The one who Danny rode with was the one to whistle.

“Is that your girlfriend!?” Called the man with a laugh.

You blushed stepping away from Danny, who didn’t reply to the guy, embarrassed like yourself. You looked to the guy you had shared a look with, only to see a sour look upon his face. Did he think Danny was your boyfriend?

Both riders readied themselves to leave, revving the engine of their bikes. A few words were shared between them before they looked to you both again.

“Have fun kids! See you later!” Called the second guy.

Both men pulled away and proceeded to ride on, leaving you and your friend alone. Danny looked to you and you both laughed in embarrassment.

“Sorry about Cal” apologized Danny. “He’s a wild card”.

You smile nodding your head. “It’s alright. Shall we get lunch?”

Smiling, Danny nodded. You both turned and began to head for a near by diner. The place was cute and cozy. Taking to a booth in the corner you and Danny looked over the menu. When a waitress came over, you both relayed your orders before being left alone. So began your catch up. You filled Danny in about going home and how your parents were doing. You talked about visiting bookshops and finding some first editions. Then how you had been looking forward to this trip, and seeing how his photography of The Vandals was going.

Danny talked about The Vandals and what he had been up to with him. Telling you about their picnics, how they found themselves scrapping with other biker groups only for them to become friends, bonding over the little things. You found it all so fascinating. Some of the stories would be something you could see being in a book you’d read. You even suggested they would make for good stories for a book or books. Which Danny laughed at.

You both ate and talked, the comfortable atmosphere between you both something you missed. After you’d eaten and the table cleared, Danny finally pulled out some of his developed photographs, which excited you. You smiled at the candid photos of various men from The group, along with some portraits.

“You really have a way of capturing people” you commented moving from one photo to another.

Then you saw it, saw him. The man who first pulled up to the curb. In the photo he was standing at a pool table, hands planted on the edge of the table, head hanging down. You looked over his arms, the tattoos you could see while he wore a black muscle t-shirt. The photo oozed sex appeal. You felt your cheeks heat up from the thoughts and feelings this picture brought up.

“That’s Benny. One of my favorite photos” Danny smiled, having watched your reaction to the photo.

You nodded. “Yes, I think mine too”.

You both laughed, moving on to the next photo and so on. All the while that photo of Benny staying front and center in your mind. You hoped the guy would be at the bar later. The banter between you both flowed, it always had with you both. Danny was easy to talk to, and the passion he has for his art is something you could always listen too. Just like when you talk about books, or saying you want to write your own novel. Danny always encouraging you to do it, write a novel that would one day become a classic read. A book that will be mentioned or remembered fifty years from now. Which always made you laugh.

But to write a novel one must have a creative mind, or experiences that could be put to paper. You may have some creativity but lack any experiences worth writing about. You voiced this to Danny, who told you to go out there and have those experiences. You laughed at him, but he was serious.

“What experiences could I have, huh?” You questioned when leaving the diner. It was late afternoon, so you both began to walk to the bar.

Danny shrugged. “Anything! You’re going to a bikie bar, here’s an opportunity!”

You shook your head but couldn’t deny he had a point. This was a good place to start. You told Danny you would do it; you’d observe the bar and see if you could find a story there. He smiled brightly and was glad you were going to start trying to write something.

After leisurely strolling to the bar, it was late afternoon when you both arrived. There were a dozen bikes in front of the place. But as the night went on, Danny said it would be livelier. Stepping up to the doors, Danny opened the door and gestured for you to enter, which you did. Upon entering you were greeted by the smell of smoke and the sound of music coming for a joke box. Danny led you through the room before taking to a table off to the side. You gracefully took a seat, making sure the skirt of your dress wouldn’t wrinkle from sitting down.

Danny sat across from you, pointing out who was in the bar and supplying their names. Not that you would remember them all so easily. By the pool table you saw Benny and Cal. Benny was having a game with another guy, while Cal watched on and talked with another.

“There’s Cal and Benny” Danny comment, having followed your gaze. “Along with Corky, the guy playing Benny, and Wahoo”.

You laughed softly. “Why are there so many funny names?”

Danny smiled. “They are funny, but I’m not sure. They’re just their nicknames”.

You turned your eyes back to the pool game, eyes lingering on Benny. Watching how he would look over the table when it was his turn, thinking about what shot to take. Watching how he would lean over the table, hands holding the pool stick and resting it on. How his arms moved when he took the shot. Benny’s eyes watching the white ball hitting its target and sinking it. A tiny grin crossing his sinful lips with rejoice.

Feeling eyes on him, Benny stepped back from the pool table, eyes looking to the almost empty bar. Finally, he spots the person, it was you. The little bookworm from the park. The same girl who was close to Danny. That left a bad taste in his mouth, you being Danny’s girl. He had nothing against the kid, but you were just a cute little thing that Benny couldn’t take his eyes off. You looked sweet and innocent, the opposite of him. He felt a spark between you as you stared at each other, but he couldn’t do the wrong thing by Danny. He is a good guy.

Seeing that you were distracted, possibly by a muse for your writing, Danny took the moment to slip away to get you both some drinks. When he voiced this was when you turned back to your friend, giving him a nod and smile. When you turned back, Benny was taking his next shot, which he was successful in sinking another ball. The next shot wasn’t so lucky, but no doubt setting something up. You noted that Benny had handed his stick to Cal before heading to the bar. Standing next to Danny, he and Benny exchanged some words before clapping Danny on the back, grabbing a beer and head back to the pool table.

When your friend returned you questioned him and he just smiled, saying it was nothing. But you didn’t buy it, yet let it go. Taking the offered bottle of pop, you sat back and took a sip. Soon more Vandals piled in as the evening came, then the night. Over time you had met more of the Vandals, talking and laughing, having a good time. Yet every so often you could feel yourself being watched, and when you looked back to the pool table, it was always Benny watching you.

He couldn’t help himself. Benny couldn’t stop watching you, making sure you were alright. Even more so when different men joined you and Danny. Benny knew what most of the guys were like, especially when they’ve been drinking. But from the smiles and laughs, he knew you were alright. Yet he wanted your focus on him, for him to be the one to make you smile and laugh.

After some time it was just you and Danny, you mused over the different Vandals that had joined you and their stories. Even if they weren’t that refined, they had their own charms. Danny agreed with you, before asking if you wanted another drink. You nodded and just like that, you were on your own. Which didn’t bother you that much. You turned your gaze back to the pool table to watch Benny, but he was gone. You frowned, not sure where he’d gone.

Suddenly Danny’s seat was grabbed and turned around, a body falling into it, arms resting on the back of the chair. “Looking for me Angel?” Came a gravelly voice.

You turned to the person, about to make a comment of no. But upon seeing Benny, you sat there quietly. Now up close you could see his eyes were a baby blue, that sparkled with amusement. And fully focused on you.

A bright smile graced his lips. “I’m Benny”.

You sat there like a fool, mouth opening and closing before you finally registered what was going on. “Oh, I’m (Y/N)”.

You could kick yourself at how foolish you must look and sound. But this man had left you speechless. From his looks to that voice, you were in trouble. But he was the perfect muse for your writing. The words you could use to describe him, no doubt that would sell books. Imagine if you used one of Danny’s photos, just to really get the point across to the reader.

“That’s a pretty name” Benny replied continuing to grin. He was a charmer.

“T-thank you” you stuttered.

Not once did Benny take his eyes off you, nor did you take yours off him. That spark between you both in full force. Silently communicating with each other. From this man’s gaze and smile, you could tell he was interested in you. Which in turn made you feel shy. You fidgeted in your seat, trying to remain calm.

That was when Danny came back with your pop and two beers. Handing one to Benny, who never took his eyes off you, and took a sip from the bottle. You gulped at how good he made sipping a beer look. Was he actually real? Or was this all in your head?

Danny looked between you both before chuckling to himself, gathering his bag and beer, he decided to leave you both alone. Not that either of you noticed when he left. Shakily you took a sip of your pop, not once looking away from Benny. He was enjoying this. Enjoying that he was your main focus, and no one else.

Putting down the bottle you felt a little less shy. “Can I ask, what did you and Danny talk about at the bar earlier?” But then felt silly to have asked, taking the bottle and having another sip out of embarrassment.

Benny chuckled, a delightful sound to your ears. “Nothin’ much. Just asked if you were his girl” – you choked on your drink – “he assured me you weren’t” he winked at you.

You coughed softly, hand over your mouth.

“You alright Angel? Do I need to come over and pat you on the back?”

You shook your head, which Benny laughed at. He thought you were so adorable. Getting your cough and self under control, you put the bottle on the table and left it there for the time being.

“You good?” Benny asked after a moment.

You nodded. “Y-yes”.

His smile returned. “Good. Couldn’t have you choking on your drink”.

Your stomach flipped at his smile and words. You felt yourself sinking further under his spell. And if those baby blues kept staring into your soul, you would whole heartedly give yourself over to him.

“Say, you wouldn’t want to go for a ride, would ya?” Benny suddenly asked sitting up, arms still resting on the back of the chair.

You blinked a few times at his words. “Ah, well...I don’t know...”

Benny raised his hands. “You can say no if you want, won’t hurt my feelings Angel” he winked once more.

Your heart skipped a beat. You didn’t want to say no to the beautiful man before you. But you were scared to get on the back of a bike. Not just because of the thoughts of crashing. But because of how close you would be to Benny. Yet the thought of being close to him was so appealing, so thrilling.

“I’m wearing a dress, that isn’t ideal...” you mused, not outright refusing him.

“Is that all?” Benny questioned with a chuckle. “I can work something out Angel. So, we going for a ride?”

Experiences, that was what you and Danny had discussed. Here one was presenting itself to you. Accompanied by the ideal muse. Time to throw caution to the wind.

“Sure” you replied with a soft smile.

Benny beamed at your words. He stood from his chair, moving around the table to stand beside you with his hand out. You looked to his face and then his hand, before back to his face. His eyes told you; you could trust him. He’d look after you. So, you placed your hand in his and he helped you from your seat.

Benny led you through the crowd of people, the whole time never letting go of your hand. He feared if he let go you would run away, and he didn’t want that. Numerous Vandals in passing made comments or cheered their brother on, having seen the interaction between you both for a while.

Exiting the bar, Benny held open the door for you, which you smiled at him for. Words hard to form and voice. Still holding your hand, Benny led you across the street and to his bike. Only then did he let go of your hand while he swung his leg over the bike, taking to seating himself for a moment. Like any other time, Benny started his bike, the beast roaring to life. He then proceeded to lift the kickstand before holding out his hand. You stood there looking at him unsure what to do.

“Come on Angel, I’ll hold your hand while you get on” Benny stated calmly, trying not to spook you.

Snapping out of it, you placed a hand in his, enjoying the feel of his rough, calloused hand against your soft skin. Next you did your best to gracefully swing your leg over the bike, which you kind of succeeded at. Once sitting behind Benny, he instructed on how to tuck your dress under your legs.

“Don’t want to flash anyone, or else I will have to make them forget” he commented, making you blush.

Benny then instructed you would have to hold on, when you questioned how, he moved his hands back and brought your hands around his waist, resting them against his firm stomach, which was more abs. Your blush deepened at the touch to his clothes stomach. Again, he repeated for you to hold on tightly, and that he wouldn’t go too fast for your first time. No doubt you were bright red, did that man not get the doubt meaning of what he said? A soft chuckle told you he did, but he said nothing after that.

Benny pulled away from the curb, heading down the street from the bar and heading for the highway. His initial take of had you grasping his t-shirt, and squeezing him, with eyes closed. He smiled to himself at your reaction, enjoying it oh so much. The way you grasped his shirt, how your nails scratched against the fabric, it did something to him. A pleasant something.

Slowly Benny gained speed before finally hitting the high way. You could feel the wind caress your face and moved your hair. Not to mention the sound of the wind was soothing, numbing the thoughts.

“Open your eyes Angel” Benny softly commandeered. “You’ll want to see this”.

Reluctantly you opened your eyes, before you was an open road, street laps lining it. And when you pass it, you can see clearly before darkness closing in again, till the next lamp. You released the breath you had been holding, amazing at what you were seeing and feeling. If this was what it was like to ride, you could get use to it.

You smiled leaning your forehead against Benny's back before laughing. “This is amazing!”

Now it was Benny’s turn to laugh. Your reaction was cute, but he got it. Riding was freedom. Riding was getting to feel and hear the wind. You wouldn’t get this experience in a car. Taking one of his hand, hand placed it over your own, which still clutched his t-shirt.

His leather glove was cool against your skin, or was that from the wind? You didn’t know, but you liked the gesture from the male before you. It was that moment you knew you had definitely found your muse. And from this experience, and possibly more to come, you would have a story worth writing down. A possible love story with a man that was ridiculous good looking and appealing. And you couldn’t wait for it all.

^___^

#benny cross x reader #benny cross x y/n #benny cross x you #the bikeriders x reader

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