#will miller

I said I was introduced to his works through the three films he did with Oscar Isaac. Garrett interjected and asked if I was a pretty big fan of Oscar, I said “huge” and he said “Oscar’s a good person to be a fan of”

I said Triple Frontier means a lot to some very queer people online and he smiled

I said I knew a few years ago Charlie Hunnam said he had and idea for TF2 and I asked if he knew if it had gone anywhere or was still potential to happen.

I joked “might be kinda hard to get Pedro Pascal now” but Garrett said not to count him out and seemed to think he’d do it

he said there was a full script, but that it had never gotten “polished” enough and said he hasn’t heard anything else.

Garrett did say that he had a great time filming, said him and Charlie had been “best buds” for 15 years by that point and that it was his third movie with Oscar and so getting to do the movie with friend was great

he also said “if Charlie does make that m movie, his baby brothers gonna be there”

he was super thoughtful in his answer and answering everyone’s questions I love him 🙏🏻

JAX TELLER

One Shots

The Reunion 🔥

After seven months apart, Jax is finally back home from prison, and even though you and he would never get that time back, he was determined to make you forget all about it.

Just Another Girl 💋

You’ve known Jax your whole life, and not once had he ever made you feel inferior or unimportant - just the exact opposite. You were on cloud 9 when you discover that your feelings for him were very much mutual, until you overhear a conversation with Clay that has you questioning every minute you’ve ever spent with him. Where You Left Me 💕💋 When you suddenly start to distance yourself from Jax, he’s left wondering what he could’ve possibly done wrong that would make you not want to be around him. But after a party, Ope tells him something that has alarm bells going off in his head, and he finally starts to connect the dots.| Part 2 of JAG.

Thigh’s the Limit 🔥

After a pretty serious accident, Jax is left bedridden at home, where he is given excellent care from his wife. But when weeks go by and he still can’t give you the pounding you deserve for putting up with him, he gives you the next best thing.

Night With A Showgirl 🔥

Halloween was just another day to the guys of SAMCRO, though it meant the girls who frequent the clubhouse could dress up in the most revealing outfits and no one would question it. Luckily for Jax, you go all out, and luckily for you, Jax had never been able to keep his hands off you, especially when you dress up for him.

The Married Life 🔥

Jax never thought he could ever be a one woman kind of guy, much rather preferring to spend the night with girls that didn’t expect anything else from him. He never thought he’d get married, but then he met you, and his entire perspective changed almost instantly, and all he wanted to do now was be with his wife all the time.

Changed Like Midnight 💋🔥

Jax had been chasing after you for years, wanting nothing more than to be with you since the day he met you, and when you finally give him a chance to prove himself, someone from his past threatens to destroy it completely.

Life of The Party 🔥

During one of the clubhouse’s many parties, you and Jax sneak away after you can’t keep your hands off each other, and end up in the cramped bathroom. Despite the limited space, Jax still knows your body better than anything else, and he knows exactly what to do to make you fall apart.

Saved By The Biker 💕💋

After a very boring and lackluster date, you swallow your pride and call Jax, your ex, and ask him to pick you up. Instead of being obnoxious and mean about it, he surprises you by not only coming through and helping you out, but also revealing a few things that have you questioning how you and he ended up where you were before tonight.

At The Table 🔥

Not only is Jax your new husband, but he is also the new President of SAMCRO. Even though he’s busier now than ever before, he’d never deny his wife the thing he promised is yours forever, nor would he deny giving you a ride on the President’s chair.

It Won’t Break Us 💕💋

Jax has been so busy with the club lately, you feel like you hardly see your husband at all. When he comes home and barely says a word to you, the stress both of you had been feeling comes out in the form of a nasty fight that leaves you both sleeping alone. But, despite the harsh words you exchanged with each other, neither of you liked being too far away, especially in your own home.

The Kitchen Table 🔥

Your morning in bed with Jax gets interrupted by club business, and after a long day spent barely staying in control of himself, he finally gets to pick up where you and he left off, this time on the kitchen table.

Series/Multi-Parts

King Teller Series 💕💋🔥

Jax is the King of Charming, and you’re his Queen.

12 Days of Jaxmas 💕💋🔥

A collection of (mostly) Christmas themed fics.

Just Give Me A Reason Series 💕💋🔥

You and Jax are high school sweethearts and are given a second chance at love after spending the last eight years apart, but a lot can happen in eight years, and even though it’s clear you and he are meant to be together, it’s hard to let go of the past.

RAYMOND SMITH

Middle of the Night 💋🔥

Yours and Ray’s relationship has always been complicated, right up from the moment you met, to each time you and he briefly see each other throughout the years. Though he wants more, yours and his lives are too different right now, but when you confide in him about your troubles, he suddenly doesn’t care about the very real consequences of having a more permanent place in each other’s lives.

WILLIAM MILLER

The Space Between a Rock and a Hard Place 💕💋

The viral “foot pursuit challenge” piqued your interest as soon as you saw it going around, and when you asked Will to participate, he was more than game.

Benny and his wife were there too, having driven out to a back road with plenty of space, both brothers talking complete shit at how easy it would be for them to chase you girls down, their years of intense military training bringing out their confidence.

Hearing Will’s thundering footsteps approach quickly behind you sparked something you didn’t know thrilled you, and even though you didn’t dare look back at him, you knew he was on you in seconds without barely breaking a sweat.

He had grabbed you around your waist and hoisted you off the ground, spinning you into his arms where you kicked and laughed beyond your control, but what he said when he caught you made it turn into something you wanted to explore further and made your giggles die out quickly.

“You’re lucky we’re not alone right now or you’d be getting it.”

His breath was hot on your skin, tickling your ear so that goosebumps exploded all over your body from head to toe, your throat feeling dry and tight.

Will’s large hand had a grip on your breast while his other smacked you on the ass, a low grunt sounding from his heaving chest as he looked at you with a darkness in his eyes.

He pulled his bottom lip in his teeth and glared at you, and you swore your heart stopped when you felt his erection rub on you as he hovered against you, barely releasing you from his hold.

And that’s how you found yourself here.

It was usually quiet this time of day, the hiking trails that wove through a wooded area the perfect spot for it, both of you relieved and excited when you had pulled in the parking area and saw no other vehicles there.

“You sure you wanna do this?” he confirmed again, but the way he slapped the velcro strap on his tac vest with his long hand to secure it in place was all the convincing you needed had you not already been one hundred percent on board with your game.

“I’m sure,” you nodded, feeling your arousal build and your pussy already aching.

He cocked his head to the side slightly and raised his eyebrows as if giving you one last opportunity to reconsider, and when he slammed the tailgate of his truck shut, you jumped.

“Okay then,” he sang, glancing at his watch. “I’m giving you a thirty second head start once we get in there.”

You bit your cheek to stop yourself from grinning, and when he looked at you and shook his head with a smirk on his face you squirmed, already feeling your heart pounding in your chest from the excitement of it.

“Alright, let’s do it,” he chuckled, pressing off his feet in the dirt trail and into a slow jog.

Passing no one on the trail so far after about ten minutes of a light warm-up, Will eased to a stop and looked around, happy that you were seemingly alone.

His veins were already bulging in his neck and his forearms, his blood pumping through him without even exerting himself yet, and your mouth watered knowing how good the taste of his sweat was and how gorgeous his face looked when it got all blushed whenever he ran.

“Ready, sweetheart?”

A nervous laugh blew out of your lips, your skin feeling tingly from a rush you knew hadn’t even begun yet, and you nodded enthusiastically.

“Run fast,” he warned, his tone even, and the expression on his face told you you didn’t have a chance in hell.

Unable to say anything, you swallowed hard and took off, sprinting as fast as you could in order to try to give yourself more of an advantage and make the most of the fleeting thirty seconds.

You were a good runner, but after a bit you knew you would be slowing down, and regardless, Will would be catching up to you in no time.

Blood was pounding in your ears, the ringing drowning out the sound of your own panting breaths as you pushed yourself as hard as you could. You prayed a tree root or even just your own feet wouldn’t trip you up, knowing by now that your head start was up, and suddenly you felt like you were in a horror movie.

Even though you knew it was your husband on the other end of this chase, you couldn’t get the sickening pit in your stomach to go away, realizing with grave terror the reality that you likely wouldn’t be able to outrun someone in a worse scenario.

Your lungs burned and your limbs felt heavy, your false fear feeling all too real as you kept going as fast as you could move, doing your best to focus on the path in front of you and not on the man who pursued you from behind.

You could sense him gaining on you, your excitement mixing with nerves that had your fight or flight response in overdrive, the anticipation of him catching you almost too much to handle.

Well into the trail now, you decided to take a chance and deek off the path, still managing to keep your pace despite the branches and small brush growing thicker there, surprising yourself with your agility.

The harsh snap of a stick made a gasp come out of your mouth as you worked to keep your breathing at an even tempo, and the rustling of leaves and thumping of heavy feet on the forest floor increased faster than you could stand to hear.

It was exhilarating and completely frightening all at once, waiting to feel his hands grab at you as the crack of branches grew louder, wondering when the moment would come that his body would finally take yours down.

And then he did.

Feeling his fingertips graze at your back, you gave one last push with everything you had left in an effort to evade him, only to feel his arm snake around your waist, his weight barreling into you so forcefully it pushed you off your feet.

The momentum made both of you crash to the ground, his tackle knocking the wind out of your lungs despite his care to not actually hurt you, the thud of your body hitting the dirt echoing in your ears.

You squirmed beneath him, a pitiful attempt to wiggle your way out of his hold, only to feel the heavy mass of him keep you firmly stuck where you were, and you smiled hearing him grunt with his efforts.

He felt like he was on fire, his heat pouring through both your clothes and onto your back, his breaths heaving and laboured on your sweat-coated skin.

Dirt smeared across your cheek as you turned your face to the side to try to catch a glimpse of him, seeing a look of satisfaction and something totally primal twisting his gorgeous features.

His cheeks were red, his skin gleaming with drops of sweat that traveled downward until they dripped off the tip of his nose, his blond hair saturated and dark.

The muscles in his face flinched as he clenched his teeth tightly together, working to get his hands in the waist of your pants where he ripped them down in one go along with your panties, his rough treatment of you making you close your eyes as you waited for what was going to come next.

More feral, guttural noises came out of his mouth and you knew he saw how wet you were, making you lift your hips as much as possible in order to put yourself more on display for him.

The sinful sound of his belt opening rang with that familiar clank that made your cunt ache even more, and your mouth watered when you heard the zipper peel down followed by the shift of material as he freed himself.

There was no mercy as he buried his thick cock in you in one go, this not the time to ease you into taking his size and rather an example of the control your Captain could have over you no matter how hard you might try.

You cried out, digging your fingers into the soft soil as he began pounding into you relentlessly, the power behind his thrusts already making you feel dumb from pleasure.

One hand was planted firmly in the center of your back to keep you down while the other grabbed at the flesh on your hip like a vice, his fingers biting into your skin like teeth.

“Fuck,” he hissed, seemingly in need of more of you as he tore your pants further down your legs before using his thigh to nudge the back of your knee, forcing your right leg up so he could drive deeper in your cunt.

A drawn out moan spilled from your mouth at the change, the bitter taste of earth tainting your tongue as your face smeared back and forth on the ground from a rhythm that had you seeing stars.

Will laid himself fully on top of you, covering your form completely as he continued to plow into you, your body jolting when his hand found space between you and the ground and started rubbing your clit.

Being smothered by him made you dizzy, feeling constrained and claimed all at once, protected and retained, your heart swelling knowing no matter the situation, Will always carried a sense of possessiveness toward you.

You moved as much as you could, attempting to grind against his fingers to chase down your quickly building climax, but everything he was doing had you right there anyway.

The sensation of his thick cock dragging in and out of your drenched cunt was almost too much to bear, every detail of his shaft that was now completely soaked by you memorized by your tight hole, the sounds of profane squelching and his heavy breathing finally sending you over the edge.

His hand quickly came out from under you and grabbed your face, covering your mouth to muffle your screams as you tensed beneath him, his wet fingers careless to their grip and placement as they clawed at your lips and fumbled against your teeth.

The taste of yourself made your mouth water more, feeling spit seep out around his fingers while he pounded furiously deep inside your constricting walls, his teeth raking over the side of your neck where your pulse thrummed viciously as he came undone in the wake of your orgasm.

A sharp hiss passed through his gritted teeth as the first of his spurts of hot cum filled you, his hips stuttering against your ass as his rhythm fell apart into something even more erratic, his breath blowing cruelly on your sweaty skin.

He remained on top of you for a minute, his lips pressing all over your neck and cheek, his hand that had been covering your mouth gently trailing down the side of your waist.

A stupid, exhausted smile dressed your lips as you came down, the sounds of the forest and chirping of birds able to be heard again now that your mind and body were beginning to quiet the electricity that had deafened your senses.

Will eventually pulled out of you and sat back on his heels, a deranged laugh puffing out of him as he admired the view in front of him.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he huffed, watching you lay there dirty, sweaty and disheveled, his cum leaking out of your stretched hole. “That's a game we might have to play more often.”

You giggled as you rolled over onto your back, smiling at Will who's own spread wide on his face and made all the lines around his eyes and mouth scrunch up.

He took another second to scan over you, the sight of you still half-naked and crudely exposed keeping him hard and wanting more, the temptation to ram himself back in your cunt and fuck you again, but harder, almost unbearable.

Recognizing the look in his eyes, you smirked as you teasingly shifted your hips to tug your panties back up, watching his chest inflate slowly in a way to try to calm himself as he made note of how his load would barely be contained by the tiny bit of material.

You sat up, leaning forward to press your lips against his slowly and teasingly, feeling his long, drawn out moan pass into your mouth as he relaxed into your kiss.

You couldn’t stifle your giggle when you took hold of his cock, still sticky and hot from you, and stroked it, feeling him buck closer to your touch and growl before you carefully tucked him back in his boxers.

“We’re gonna get caught if we keep this up,” you smiled, biting your lip when you parted from his.

“We’re lucky we didn't already,” he chuckled, his eyebrows high on his forehead as he nodded his head once.

Will stood and brought his pants back over his ass before fastening them and his belt, and extended his hand down to help you off the ground after you had pulled your tight spandex leggings back into place.

He was on you the moment you turned from him and started walking, pressing himself against your back while his mouth brushed the shell of your ear, his tone raspy and loaded with want when he spoke.

“Let's get home, sweetheart, we’re gonna need a shower.”

---

Taglist:

@dailydragon08 @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls @littlenosoul

@maggotzombie @rmwarn90 @paintlavillered @casa-boiardi @stealfromthedevil

@kmc1989 @justreblogginfics @spaghettificationandpretzels @whatever-lmaoo @steviebbboi

“I’m serious,” he teases, grinning, “my face hurts. You’ve got me smiling in my dreams, woman.”

You squish his cheeks between your palms. “Poor baby,” you pout, giggling as you press a kiss to his nose. “Should we call the VA and tell them it’s chronic?”

Will snorts, eyes crinkling at the corners as laughter spills between you, and you swear it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

Humming, you plant soft kisses across his cheeks, his chin, and the corners of his smile. His beard is scratchy under your mouth, a little wild and softer at the jaw, but you love the way it feels against your lips. “Big strong soldier taken down by his own happiness. Tragic, really.”

He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you with a look. That look. Like you hung the damn moon. The seriousness of it catches you off guard, the way his gaze lingers like this moment matters more than he knows how to say.

Will’s hands slide up your thighs before they rest on your hips, fingers brushing bare skin beneath your shirt. His smile only widens.

Leaning down, you kiss him slow and sweet, lingering because you love the taste of him on your tongue and the familiar press of his mouth against yours. You barely pull back, whispering against his lips, “You’re trouble.”

“Mmm,” he breathes, his hands giving you a gentle squeeze. “You love it.”

You pretend to consider, tilting your head, lips pursed like you’re actually thinking it over. “I don’t hate it.”

That earns you a playful growl and a teasing roll of his hips, making you squeal. A giggle escapes you as you swat at his chest and push yourself upright again. You can still feel the heat radiating from him, the solid press of muscle meeting you everywhere you touch.

“Don’t start something you’re not ready to finish, sweetheart,” he warns, mock-serious, though the glint in his blue eyes gives him away.

You lean back down, close enough to feel his breath on your mouth, letting your nose brush his. “I didn’t start anything,” you murmur. “You did. Smiling at me like that. Like some golden retriever with biceps.”

Will chuckles, shaking his head before his hands come up and pull you in. His arms wrap tight around your back, solid and sure, and you sink against him, your face tucked into the curve of his neck. He smells like sleep and skin and something that’s just him.

When he speaks, you feel it in his chest before you hear it. “I don’t even care if I look stupid, y’know?” he confesses, barely above a whisper. “I’ve never been this happy. You make me…” He trails off, breath shifting, lips pressing to your hair. “…I don’t know. Like maybe I was always meant to be yours.”

Your eyes sting, holding him tighter, your cheek pressed to his chest, counting each steady beat of his heart.

You hold him close, voice tender and unwavering. “You are mine, Will.”

He hums like that’s the only truth he’s ever needed.

The room goes quiet except for the rhythm of your breathing while you both settle in, tangled together. You feel his hand spread over your back, thumb rubbing slowly at the base of your spine, sending a shiver down your legs.

You shift slightly, fitting yourself into the curve of his body. His stubble grazes your forehead when he turns his face into your hair, his breath warm against your skin, the steady press of his chest making everything feel safe in the hush.

Your lips find the spot just beneath his jaw, right over the steady thrum of his pulse. You press a lingering kiss there, feeling the warmth of his skin, the faint slick of sweat, the way his stubble scratches at your face. His breath hitches, sharp and involuntary, a sound you feel all the way down your spine.

Will can feel your smile spread against his neck, lips trailing another kiss along the line of his throat. He answers with a low, helpless growl, the sound rumbling against your mouth, his hand flexing at your waist as if to pull you even closer.

You pepper his skin with one more kiss, letting your teeth graze the spot just above his collarbone before giving him a gentle bite, just enough to claim him for yourself. He groans, tilting his head back, baring his throat to you, the trust in that gesture as intimate as any word.

Your cunt presses right up against the hard line of him, separated only by the straining fabric of his boxers. Will’s hands slip beneath your shirt, his rough palms gliding up your sides, thumbs tracing lazy circles just under the swell of your breasts. Goosebumps bloom all over your skin, your body moving instinctively, needy and unashamed, grinding down on him so you can feel every inch.

His cock is already so hard, the shape of it obvious whenever you grind against him. He groans, hands squeezing your waist, eyes fixed on you like he’s barely hanging on. “Jesus, woman,” he grits out, “you keep doing that, and I’m not gonna last.”

You grin, dragging your nails lightly down his broad chest. You can’t help it, you want him to feel how much you ache for him, how wet you are, how badly you want to be filled. And the way he looks up at you—head tipped back, pupils blown wide, mouth parted—makes you feel drunk on him.

A quick tug and your sleep shirt is gone, tossed aside. Will’s eyes go wide, pure awe written across his face while he drinks you in.

“Look at you,” he praises, voice hoarse, hands moving to cup your tits, thumbs circling your nipples until they pebble under his touch. “You’re unreal.”

You lean in, teasing your nipples against his mouth, and he takes full advantage, sucking and biting until you’re arching into him. His hands drop lower, gripping your ass, squeezing and kneading, pulling you flush against him so you can feel how badly he wants you.

You grind down harder, chasing friction, making him groan into your chest. You reach between you, slipping your hand into his boxers. Will sucks in a shaky breath when you wrap your fingers around him, thick and already leaking. It makes your mouth water.

“Don’t tease me,” he rasps, breath hot against your skin. “Or do. Fuck, I don’t care... just need you.”

You don’t make him wait, pushing his boxers down, guiding him with your hand, and then you’re sinking onto him. It’s achingly gradual, tight, and so fucking good you forget how to breathe. His hands clamp down, gripping your waist hard, holding you in place while you take him all the way in.

“Jesus Christ,” he groans, eyes rolling back, head pressing into the pillow as he fills you. “That’s it, baby.”

There’s a pause, just to feel it—the stretch, the burn, the way his whole body tenses under you, barely holding it together. His eyes crawl all over you, lingering on your breasts, your mouth, the place where you’re joined.

Hips roll in a sinuous, decadent rhythm, sinking down to envelop him completely, grinding on the thick, aching length of his cock. Every movement is pure indulgence, slick and gliding, shooting sparks up your spine. The feeling of him stretching you just right makes your lashes flutter shut, a shameless moan slipping from your lips.

Will watches you through heavy-lidded eyes, utterly transfixed by the way you move for him. Hunger blooms in his expression, a flush creeping up his throat while you take him deeper, lost in the sight of you above him.

“Fuck, you look good riding me,” he pants. “Look at these tits. Fucking perfect.”

His hands move between your ass and your hips, fingers digging in, guiding you into a quicker, needier tempo. You can feel the strength in his grip, the way he uses his hands to coax more out of you, wanting you wild and greedy for him.

You drag it out anyway, savoring the power—the way he groans and curses when you slow down to tease him, the way his hands urge you faster again, desperate for you.

The pressure mounts, every thrust pushing you closer until your body starts to tremble. You feel it coming and cling to him, thighs tightening around him, grinding down, chasing your release.

“Will— ” His name breaks out of you, breathless.

He sits up in a rush, hauling you tight against him, his breath hot against your jaw. One big hand slides up, fingers settling at the base of your neck, holding you there. The other spreads across your lower back, pulling you down, and soon he’s thrusting up into you, hard and unyielding, setting a pace that knocks the breath straight out of you.

“Yes—Will!” You gasp, clinging to his shoulders while he ruts into you.

He groans into your neck. “Fuck, baby. Feel you squeezing me. You take my cock so good.” His hands slide lower, digging into your thighs, driving up into you with every urgent movement.

You rock against him, chasing it, the stretch and friction pulling a broken sound from your throat. Your body tightens, trembles, and Will knows—he always knows.

Your climax crashes over you, pleasure tearing through every nerve, your cunt clenching tight around him as you cry out against his shoulder. You pull him closer, arms locked around his neck, moving against him, desperate to keep him as deep as possible.

He pulls your forehead to his, searching your eyes, thumb stroking your throat, “I love you. Christ, I love you—”

Will’s voice breaks on a guttural groan. He thrusts up, hard and unyielding, lost in the slippery heat of you. He stills, pushing as far inside as your body will take, when you feel him come—hot, thick pulses spilling inside you. The sensation makes you gasp, your cunt fluttering around him, desperate for every drop, aching to keep him as close as he can possibly be.

“Fuck, fuck,” he pants, arms locked around you as his chest heaves, cock still twitching inside you with the aftershocks. “Jesus, baby…”

You don’t loosen your hold, desperate to keep him right where he is, luxuriating in the afterglow. You love how he stays nestled inside you, how perfectly your bodies fit, your heart settling into its favorite place.

Will stays there, breathing hard, arms secure around you, forehead pressed to yours. Your skin is slick where it meets his, both of you damp from the effort. When his breath finally evens out, he kisses your cheek, your temple, then your mouth—unhurried and worshipful.

“Never get enough of you. Of this,” he admits, voice wrecked.

You smile against his lips, a quiet, satisfied hum escaping you, still full of him, holding him close as the world gently settles back in around you.

“Are we all in?” Santi asks, glancing around at his brothers. Brothers in arms, brothers in life, brothers in every way but blood.

“I’m down,” Benny says, jumping at the chance to be in before Will.

“I’m in,” Will shrugs, “so long as Fish is in.” The eyes around the room glance at Fish as he contemplates.

“I’m trying to get clean, man,” he says, palms up.

“No drugs. None for us. Recon and get the fuck out,” Santi says, trying to keep the pleading out of his voice. They can’t do this without Fish. Their pilot. Their way out. Fish nods before dropping his head. It’s silent for several minutes as he thinks, Pope’s breath caught in his throat. He’s about to try to plead again when Fish glances up and nods.

“I’m in.”

Santiago lets out a heavy breath. He’s got three of his four on board but his toughest test has yet to come. You.

“We can’t do this without her,” Will muses, hand on his stubbled jaw. “We need her,” and Santiago knows. He fucking knows okay?

Will is their leader, their planner. Benny is their cheerleader, he’s got their backs no matter what. Frankie is their escape. Their way out, always. Santiago is the glue that holds them all together. But you? You’re their anchor. When shit goes south and Jesus it always goes south, you hold them together. Figuratively and literally. You’re their medic, you’ve saved their lives more times than they can count. You’re also their sharp shooter. You’ve taken as many lives, if not more, than the rest of them.

Honeybee, sometimes known as Honey. Sometimes known as Bee, depending on the situation. When you’re patching up their bullet wounds or knife cuts, you’re Honey. When you’re 500 feet away and sniping an enemy, you’re Bee. When you’re sugar sweet and smiling at them as you do a shot of tequila, you’re Honey. When you’re spitting mad and cussing because they’ve done something stupid, you’re Bee. That time Benny lit your truck on fire because he ‘was curious about whether metal burned’, he got Bee and boy did Bee sting. But when Frankie needed someone to bail him out of jail because he got busted, Honey showed up without a second thought.

Santiago can’t do anything but think about that awful mission 2 years ago when everything went sideways. When they almost lost you and because of that they did end up losing you. It’s a long drive to the farm where you live now and Santi can’t stop his racing thoughts. He told the other three to follow a half hour behind him, give him time to apologize and soften up their Honeybee before they descend and ask the unthinkable.

——————

You know who it is the second you see a truck turn down your driveway. Who it is and why he’s here. Not the specifics, of course, but you know why he would show up on your doorstep nearly 2 years to the day after he last spoke to you. He steps out of the truck, as disarmingly handsome as he smiles at you.

“Hey, Honeybee,” he greets you like he last saw you a week ago and it pisses you off.

“Pope,” he used your call sign, you’ll use his. He can’t see all of you, only your shoulders and head because you’re hidden in your garden.

“How are you?” He asks like he doesn’t know. Like he hasn’t been keeping tabs on you. Of course, you have connections too and they tell you when Santiago checks up on you. When you step out from behind the tomato plants and stalks of corn, he’s almost knocked over at the sight of you. You’re as stunning as ever and Santi gulps down the sight of you.

“Fine,” you’re short with him. And he knows you have every right to be.

“I’m sorry,” he says, stepping towards you and stopping when you move your basket from your hip to in front of you. A clear sign for him not to get closer.

“For what, Garcia?” You prod. You both know what he’s apologizing for but he’s the one that needs to admit the wrongdoing.

“For that mission,” his head drops in shame and your eyes narrow at him.

************

2 years ago, you’d been on your final mission as Delta Force. Redfly was set to retire and be followed by Ironhead and Catfish. Benny followed his brother into everything and wanted to start his boxing career. The level of respect that was given to you by these five was hard to come by, so you retired too. Pope was the only one who couldn’t give it up. Couldn’t stop. ‘One more mission’, he’d say, every time. But this one really was the last mission as a team, a unit. One that had spent nearly every waking hour together for 10 years. (Not really, but it felt like it some days) Some, like Redfly and Ironhead, had been together longer than that.

Pope had been charged with watching your weak side, your job was to snipe their sharpshooter, make him disappear while the others take the operation down from the inside out. But Pope got distracted, eyeing something and went to investigate. While he was gone, the enemy had managed to get someone behind your lines, intending to stop you. Their footsteps were quiet and you had your eye through the sights, drowning out everything else. By the time you heard them it was too late for you to do anything except roll. The knife intended for your neck embedded in your ribs instead.

“Honeybee down,” you remembered saying through your comm, right after putting one bullet through the skull of your attacker. There was so much activity over the comms, shouts from Ironhead and curses from Redfly and Benny. Fish, unknown to you, was already on his was to your location and Pope, Pope was frozen with fear and shame and guilt. You heard his voice over the comms, taking responsibility for the situation as you tried to remember your medical training.

Keep pressure on the wound. Don’t remove the knife. Fuck. Where’s my med pack. Jesus this hurts. Damn, I missed my target. This is going to blow the entire mission.

Catfish found you first, gently removing your bloodied hand as he pulled supplies out of your med pack and bandaged you up as best as he could. Ironhead was next, whispering gentle words in your ear as you bobbed in and out of consciousness. Benny and Redfly came together, Benny cussing up a storm and demanding you stay awake as he gently cradled your face. The wound was deep and you were bleeding like a stuck pig. Which, to be fair, you kind of were. It took all of them to get you and your shit out of there without you dying, but it was close. By the time Pope arrived, you were out, your body protecting itself from the pain and blood loss.

But the thing was, you weren’t even mad at Pope because he abandoned his position. They’d all made mistakes and they’d all gotten injured before, it was part of the job. But what pissed you off was the fact that he never called. Never checked up on you himself. He did it all through the others or through your doctors when they got you to a hospital. You’d scraped by, the wound nothing but an ugly puckered scar now. The true pain lay somewhere in your chest when you thought of them. Thought of all you’d given them and they’d given you. And the fact that none of them called anymore, none of them stopped by or checked up. Even Redfly, who was always the most unattainable of the group but also the most reliable, quit contacting. And that shit hurt. You’d given them 10 years and they’d given you nothing in return. You knew life was hard, they were all learning to live without the army.

Shaking your head of the memory, you focused on the man in front of you, the one hanging his head in shame and finally speaking to you.

“I mean, what the fuck Pope?” You snapped, taking a step towards him.

“I made a mistake, I left my position,” he said and you sighed out loud.

“You’re a fucking idiot, do you honestly think that’s what I’m mad about? You’ve got a thick skull,” and his head lifts to look at you.

“You’re not mad you got hurt?”

“Fuck no, I’m not mad I got hurt!” You explode, 2 years of hurt and anger flying to the surface. “I’m pissed because you never checked up on me. When I got medically discharged, everyone but you was there. No letters no phone calls, no get-well flowers, just silence,” the rage in your bones is making the scar on your ribs twinge and you subconsciously rub the skin there. Santi winces as he watches you, taking the tongue lashing he deserves. “Don’t you remember that time I missed a shot and alerted an enemy to Fish? He almost died because I fucked up and Fish forgave me without a second thought. I didn’t even have to forgive you for making a mistake, Santi, because it happens to the best of us. I’m not ready to forgive you for choosing to shut me out the next 2 years.”

“I’m sorry,” he says once there’s been several beats of silence between you. “I was so embarrassed and ashamed. Redfly ripped me apart for making that mistake and I couldn’t handle the guilt of knowing I was the reason that you nearly died. I-,” he falters for words, his palms up in defeat. “I just couldn’t handle feeling so responsible,” he nearly chokes on his words as he remembers that day, in a different light than you do.

**************

He saw a shadow, he would swear by it to this day and in fact he did when the army investigated the situation. You were so damned capable, so smart and aware, there’s no way you could get hurt if he checked it out, right? He gets there and there’s nothing but another shadow, a little further off. He follows again, gun at the ready and his senses in overdrive. He hears a pop and the shadow darts into an opening and it’s just a fucking alley cat and he thinks ‘Bee got her shot’.

But then your voice comes over the comms and its scratchy and breathy and not at all like the rich one he’s used to hearing. “Honeybee down,” and his brain explodes and his body freezes. He’s supposed to be watching your six, your back, keeping you safe. The comms explode with noise, all five men dropping their individual missions to make their way to you. He hears Redfly come over the comms demanding to know who fucked up and Santi’s hands shake as he takes responsibility. He’s closest, he should get there first but he can’t fucking make his feet move. Fish is the only one not speaking and Santi knows that he’s already on his way. Ironhead is shouting, demanding to know what the fuck happened and Benny is cussing up one side and down the other. Santi knows how he feels about you but in that moment he knows how the others feel about you too. Well, except for Redfly. He’s married and sees you like his baby sister, but the other four? They see you as something more.

Catfish comes over the comms and confirms that he’s got you but you’re in a bad way. Your attacker got you with a knife and didn’t hold back. You’ve done a damn good job of keeping pressure on and Santi feels a rush of pride that you’re so good at your job that you’re saving your own life. A feeling that is immediately followed by guilt as he remembers that it’s his fault. Ironhead is next in and Santi would never tell him this but when he leans over you, he presses your comm and broadcasts what he’s saying.

“Come on my sweet girl, stay with me. Let me see those beautiful eyes, that’s it. Look at me. Stay with me. Please,” he’s pleading and then here comes Benny’s voice.

“Honeybee, you’d better fucking be awake. You’d better fucking stay with me, goddamnit. We’ve done too much for this to be the thing that takes you out. You’re fucking tougher than that knife,” and the longer Benny talks, the more desperate his voice gets and that’s finally what gets Pope’s feet moving. He gets there as they’re putting you on a makeshift stretcher and his gut twists as he looks at you, unconscious with your breath rattling in your chest. They told him later that you had a punctured lung that nearly collapsed and you’d lost a significant amount of blood and he donated so much he almost passed out. Santi shakes the memory away, bringing himself back to the present as he looks at you.

“I’m so sorry,” he says and this time he uses your name. The way his tongue curls around it makes something go hot in your bones and you nod at him. He’s not truly forgiven but you also know Santi and know how responsible he feels. Anything that will make him feel something that deeply needs to be pushed down or it might overtake him.

“Your apology isn’t quite accepted but you’re moving in the right direction,” you smile at him and it’s disarming. He hasn’t see that smile in too long and it nearly knocks him over. He takes a step toward you but then a noise distracts him. Before he can get to you, wrap you up in a hug, run his fingers over the softness of your thighs, he hears the rumble of a truck. It’s the guys, his half hour must be up.

“I knew you were up to some shit, Garcia,” but your tone isn’t one of anger, in fact, you sound almost amused. The guys get out of Frankies truck, heading to you but Benny, sweet fucking Benny, can’t contain it and he breaks out into a full run to get to you. He’s wrapping you up and you’re laughing, Benny’s hands clasped under your ass as he spins you in a circle. Will is next, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug before he cups your jaw and takes a moment just to look at you. Frankie is next, burying his face in your neck as he inhales your scent, holding on just a beat longer than the others. You look at them, your boys, and catalog how they look.

Santiago has more gray in his hair than you’ve ever seen, his beard speckled with grey as well. He got his call sign early in his time with DF when one of his informants told Redfly that he fucked so good she saw God every time he came around. He’s got wrinkles by his eyes and he’s so undeniably handsome.

Catfish, who got his call sign because he refused to shave and Redfly said that he looked like he had catfish whiskers under his nose, has put on weight. It looks good on him, the way his shirt stretches just a little bit around his midsection. His hair has gotten long, curling around the edges of his hat as he smiles at you and it makes your heart thump.

Will, who got his name Ironhead from actually getting shot in the head. A bullet ricocheted off a piece of metal and lodged itself in the back of his skull and if he gets really drunk he’ll let you touch it. He’s still fucking stacked, you can see his muscles under that little polo he’s wearing. He’s golden, the golden boy of Delta Force, their face if they needed one. His facial hair is longer than he used to keep it and it makes your chest ache.

Then there’s Benny, who followed his big brother into everything in life. He’s grinning at you like you hung the sun and maybe for Benny, you did. Benny had a call sign once upon a time, he was Baby Miller until he got hammered once and admitted to you that he hates it. You made everyone stop using it after that, sticking with only Benny and even though he’s never thanked you outright, you know he appreciated it. His hair has gotten long too, you can see it when he moves his cap to run his fingers through it.

They’re all so devastatingly handsome and you have to do something to distract yourself. “No Redfly?” Tom got his call sign because he was like a fly on the wall. He seemed to always know what the enemy was doing and how to handle it.

“Nah,” Will says, scratching a hand across his jaw in a way that’s so familiar that it makes your chest ache. “He had that back surgery last year to repair a disk and it didn’t fix the problem. He has to have another one in a few weeks. He sends his best though.” Tom was the only one you’d kept up with, until the last six months or so, he was a good man who has had some bad breaks. A soft silence settles over the five of you and while you don’t mind it, there’s an elephant in the room.

“Why are all of you on my farm?” You ask, eyes flicking between them. Benny and Will share a glance and Frankie’s eyes narrow at Santi. “What are you not telling me? I know y’all didn’t show up after all this time just to look at me like I’m a ghost.”

Santi swallows, “there’s a mission…” you knew that, you just wanted him to admit it. So you cut him off with a raise of your hand and start dishing directions. You may not lead them into a mission, but this is your home and you give the orders here.

“Pope, grab my basket please. I’ve got some steaks we can grill tonight. I made fresh bread this morning and I just picked tomatoes and basil, so I’ll make the bruschetta if someone can cook the steaks,” you tell them and almost laugh at the way they jump into action. “You can tell me about this mission over cocktails,” you say, heading up to your house, “which I’m not making.”

It’s so easy, you notice, to fall into a rhythm with them. Will grills and Santi tells him everything he’s doing wrong. Frankie washes all the vegetables you harvested and Benny makes sure that everyone’s drink is always full. You eat on your patio, everything but the steaks from your farm, and the boys are sure to compliment you on it. You spend the evening catching up on everything you’ve missed as a group and once everyone has a full stomach, you give Santi a pointed look. He explains everything and you listen intently, throwing a leg over the arm of your chair and letting your red toes dangle. “Can we do this without Redfly?” You ask and Santi nods.

“We don’t have a choice. He wouldn’t miss this unless he absolutely had to,” Will says and the group nods at you.

“Who runs point?”

“Ironhead,” Santi confirms what you already knew. It makes sense, he was Tom’s second hand and watched the way he worked more closely than the rest of you.

“And you’re all in?” You ask, looking each man in the face and wait for them to confirm. A soft hand lands on your ankle before it moves up and wraps around your calf. It’s Will’s and you breakout in goosebumps at the feeling of his warmth on your skin.

“We can’t do this without you, Honeybee,” He says and the other three murmur their agreement.

“I’m in,” you say and Santiago breathes a sigh of relief. “I’m also not cleaning up,” you tell them, gesturing to the food on the table. I’m going to sit here and watch you four do it,” and as you watch them, you can’t help the thoughts that sprint through your mind. Wondering what it would be like to have them all here with you, in this house. How fucking soft and domestic it would be. An image flashes in your brain at them in your bed and you quickly shake it away. You’re heading out on a mission where there’s a real chance you won’t all come back, you cannot get distracted.

The five of you chat and hang out, drinking until well-past dark and you’re the first to call it quits and head to bed. You’ve barely gotten to sleep when your bed dips and you know who it is without opening your eyes.

“Benny,” you whisper as he curls around you, just like old times. Benny runs warm and the two of you always ended up together on nights you had to cold camp.

“Couldn’t be in the same place without some tactile cuddles,” he says and you open your eyes just to roll them.

“We don’t need to snuggle for warmth in my house, Ben,” you say and he shrugs.

“I’m already here, might as well stay.”

You both drift off, Benny snoring softly in your ear, but before you get into a deep sleep the bed dips again. “Can I join?” Frankie’s voice rasps, his hot breath fanning across your face and you nod, keeping your eyes closed. He kisses your cheek and then flops down, making Benny grunt and hold you tighter. You reach out to Frankie and he takes your hand, curling your fingers in between his and he’s out in seconds.

A little while later you hear the door open but you’re so damned tired that you don’t even look up. A pair of soft lips press against your temple, Will’s, and he whispers a ‘good night, Princess’ before you hear the couch in your bedroom strain as he drops his weight on it. Another pair of lips press against your cheek moments later, the stubble rubbing gently against your skin and Pope is the only one it could be. The rocking chair that sits beside the couch creaks gently when he sits in it. You wait until you hear the soft breathing of all four of them then you relax completely and drift back off into your own sleep.

——————-

Pope, leave it to fucking Pope, lied about this mission. It was initially recon, like he said, but it quickly morphed into something else. Instead of passing intel over to the national government, Santi said to just use the intel yourselves and kill the bastard in charge. “We would never have to work again,” he pleaded. “Lorea is ruining this country and no one will question why he’s dead. We can have money and this country can have freedom.”

So, here you are, strapped down with guns and your med pack, stalking through the house looking for this guy. He wasn’t where Santi thought he should be, so you offered to sweep the house while they loaded the money. You’re the quickest shot anyways. Turning a corner you see movement, and slow your steps, lifting your gun. You and Lorea catch sight of each other at the same time, but you already have your weapon ready while he has to reach for his. It takes one shot and you communicate that over the comms. You move towards him, grabbing the plastic ball on the table next to where he was and inspect it. It’s not a bomb, too flimsy, but there’s definitely something inside it. When you gently squeeze it, it explodes in your face and you scream.

Santi’s stomach drops when he hears that scream, it’s one he’s never heard from you before. Not when you’ve been shot or stabbed. Not that time Benny threw you in the pool fully clothed or that time Fish scared you so bad you peed yourself. It’s gut-wrenching and they all drop what they’re doing to run to you. Benny reaches you first, skidding across the floor on his knees as he grabs your face and you can see the panic in his eyes. You’re covered in white powder that smells sickly sweet, like the scent of dying lilies. “Fuck, Honey, talk to me. Are you okay?” The powder burns your sinuses and makes you go cross-eyed as you try to spit and snort it out. The extra hangs in the air and settles on the skin and in hair as Benny tries to wipe everything off your face.

“Load up, time to go,” Will says, sniffing the air and Benny is already on it. He’s got you hauled over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift and Frankie is so worried, his brain so focused on you, that he doesn’t notice another ball on the floor. He steps on it and it explodes, launching more of whatever it is into the air. It settles in the air as they load up, leaving a sick scent and haze in the air.

They’ve all got white powder in their hair, on their clothes, tracked in the treads of their boots. They don’t know what it is or how anyone is going to react to it and all Santi can think about is how they’re probably going to have to burn their clothes. Will can’t stop checking behind him, Benny’s face wrenched up as he tries to cough it out of his lungs. You’re choking on it, trying to get it out of your mouth and your nose and your eyes and you can’t concentrate on anything except the fucking scent.

“Safe house, we have to get to the safe house,” Santi is saying as they get to the van and Will and Benny are tending to you. Frankie is driving, trying to remain calm and rational as Santi gives directions and not glance back at you every two minutes to make sure you’re okay. A burn starts low in your belly as you try to focus on Will, his blue eyes and golden hair filling your vision. You get a flash of what you think those blue eyes would look like in between your thighs and have to shake it away. He hands you a water bottle and you dump it over your head, keeping your eyes open so you can wash the substance out. You feel better, but the substance fucking reeks. Benny is there next to Will, raking fingers through his long hair as he panics. He’s rambling, he tends to do that when he’s scared or nervous and it takes everything in Santi not to tell him to shut the fuck up.

“That’s why you’re not the team medic, Ben,” you say with a laugh and it seems to calm them all down. “No good under the pressure of a medical emergency,” you tell him, smiling, and Benny exhales deeply. It can’t be that bad if you’re cracking jokes and poking fun at him. “How long to the safe house, I want to wash this all off,” you say but as you finish you get a hot flash. Without thinking you start to strip yourself of all your tac gear and get some air. The burn starts to take over your body, the flush creeping up your neck and when Frankie calls your name from the drivers seat all you can think about is how husky it might sound when he cums.

“What’s going on?” Will asks, taking your vest as you get it undone. Your sweatshirt is next, followed by your long-sleeve.

“I’m so hot,” you tell him, that burn intensifying as you take a deep breath. Everyone begins their descent into panic again with every layer you strip off. You’re down to tac pants and a tank and Will can see your pebbled nipples through the material.

“Pope, any idea what the fuck that powder was?” Will asks, fear lacing his voice. He’s never seen you like this, you’re always in control. But Santi shakes his head.

“Nothing I’ve seen before. How do you feel, Bee?” But you can’t answer. You’re looking at all of them and contemplating the repercussions of your next action. You’re slowly losing your grip so you need to make your mind up and quick. You want them, all of them, and damn everyone who might not understand.

“William,” you purr in a voice that sounds so unlike your natural that Ironhead whips his head back to you.

“Pope,” his voice is full of worry as he watches your pupils dilate and your face flush. “I need some answers,” but then you’re pressing up against him and his voice falters. You settle over his lap, rubbing your face against his neck like a cat. You call his name again, your voice husky and needy and he’s really panicking now. His hands are in the air, away from you and god he wishes they weren’t. He wants to settle them on your hips, press you down on himself but he doesn’t think that’s the right choice.

“Captain,” you purr again, and he’s so scared but he gets a hard flash of lust too. But he’s scared about what will happen if he gives into desire, scared about what that powder was. Scared for you. But he’s taken too long to make his decision and you’re off and moving to your next target.

“Benjamin,” you say in that same sultry tone and his eyes are wide and nervous. You straddle him and his hands come up instinctively around your back, cradling your head as you run your tongue along the column of his throat.

“Fuck-“ he stutters, jerking his hips upwards. “Pope, what the fuck is happening?”

“I-goddamnit. It’s a rumor down here! I didn’t think it was real!” He shouts, and Frankie is driving faster now, unable to keep his eyes off the scene in the back of the truck but needing to keep them on the road. “There were rumors that some of the drug lords were making an aphrodisiac powder, you could snort it like cocaine. I didn’t think it was real! We’ve never encountered anything like it!”

“Fuck,” Will says, they’ve been hit with an aphrodisiac powder? Who comes up with this shit? You took a face full of it so god knows how you’re going to react. He glances over and you’ve got your tongue shoved down Benny’s throat, making these hot little whines as you grind down on him. “We have to get to the safe house, now.” Benny took a good bit of it too as he attempted to clean you up, and Frankie stepped on the other one and shot more in the air.

“We’re here,” Frankie says two minutes later, his eyes starting to dilate as he pulls the truck into an underground garage. All three of them are hard as glass listening to you and Benny rut against each other. Santi and Will manage to get the truck covered up as Frankie wrestles you and Benny inside, limbs so tangled up in one another that he can’t tell who’s who but he knows he needs his hands on you. Will starts to feel the heat you were talking about and tries to tamp down the jealousy as he watches Fish and Benny sandwich you in, Benny’s hands on your ass and Fish’s on your tits. Santi takes a look at Will, in all his movie-star handsomeness, and knows this is going to change all their lives.

You feel like you’re under water and Benny’s mouth is the only thing keeping you afloat. You’re drowning in the need, the desire. But then Frankie is behind you, his soft lips on your shoulder as he tugs at your tank. You gasp as his hands find your tits, pulling and pinching and twisting at your nipples.

“Frankie, baby,” you cry out, breaking your kiss with Benny as you twist to shove your tongue down Frankie’s throat. Frankie growls, shoving at Benny, trying to make him back up and Benny snarls. “No, no fighting,” you plead and the desire starts to make your stomach cramp. “I need someone, anyone, everyone. Fuck, please,” and Benny sets you down so he can yank down your tac pants. He can’t get your shoes off, doesn’t have the concentration for that, so he spins you instead. He enters you in one thrust and you both sigh in heavy relief. Benny’s hand is on your hip and his head drops between your shoulder blades as he breaths you in. “Benny,” you plead, “Move. Please,” and he gives you exactly what you ask for, he can never refuse you. His pace is quick and you’re clenching hard around him, savoring the relief his cock is providing.

His pants in your ear sound pained as he moves inside you and his hand cups your tit, thumb and index finger pulling at your nipples. He’s speaking to you but you’re drowning in the feel of him and you don’t know what he’s saying. His hand slides up to your jaw, cupping it and twisting your head so he can shove his tongue in your mouth. Your combined breaths are heavy as your tongues tangle and you can feel Benny’s hands flexing as he reaches his end. His mouth is all over yours, his teeth nipping at your jaw and earlobe with his fingers digging slightly into your skin and you’re so close.

Just as you are about to hit your peak, a soft tongue pokes its way through your pussy and you cry out. You look down to see Frankie looking up at you, his mouth glued to your pussy, his tongue flicking your clit and timing up with Benny’s thrusts and you come. You come so hard that Benny stutters before he shoves all the way in, coating you with his come.

His head drops between your shoulder blades again and he whispers into your skin, “I love you, I love you. Loved you first, before the others,” but you can’t concentrate on that right now because Frankie has pushed him back and replaced Benny’s cock with his fingers and you can’t stand. You collapse and Frankie rolls you, slides into the opening of your thighs, catching your tac pants with his elbow and pushing them down to your ankles. There’s a ripping sound and a rational part of your brain hopes they’re still wearable after this but the non-rational part of your brain is focusing on Frankie. Then his mouth is on you and he’s got two fingers shoved inside you and you can’t think of anything else.

“Frankie!” You cry out and here’s Will, strong dependable Will, and he shoves his tongue down your throat to swallow your cries. You’re all in it now, so deep in the throes that you don’t know how you’ll find your way out but you don’t care. “Will,” you say and he looks down at you with love and adoration partnering with the lust in his eyes and you open your mouth and stick out your tongue out to convey what you want.

“You sure?” And you can’t answer, you can only nod as Frankie pushes another finger inside you and you cry out his name, spasming around his fingers. Will places his cock on your tongue and you suck him down, relishing in the sound of his groan. The cramps worsen in your belly and you can’t think, can’t speak but Will notices. “Fish. Fuck her, she needs it.” Frankie pushes up, lining himself up with you and pushes in. Even though Benny already fucked you, Frankie is a tight fit and you relish the burn as he splits you open. His mouth sucks marks on every part of your body that he can reach and you can’t concentrate on Will anymore. Which is good because he’s gone anyways but then someone is untying your boots, stripping you of your pants and you know it’s Will. Your rock. The one you can always count on. You almost smile but then Frankie sinks his teeth into the soft outer flesh of your breast and it almost sends you over the edge. Your hand comes up to twist in his hair, knocking his hat off as he pounds into you and he growls your name. Santi appears and shoves his hands between your bodies, gathering the slick from you and Benny and Frankie and rubs circles on your clit, his cock pressing up against your cheek as he shoves his tongue down Frankie’s throat. That part sends you spiraling and you cry out, coming as Frankie fucks you stupid. Santi breaks from him, bending to shove his tongue in your mouth instead. Frankie watches you both so intensely that Will worries about him, but then his brow furrows and he groans your name as he cums inside you, dropping his head to rest in the crook of your neck as he whispers in your ear. “I’ve wanted you for so long,” he tells you and god, you really cannot unpack this right now.

Will replaces Frankie between your thighs, his beautiful blue eyes full of concern as he presses in. You sob and Will is there, “what do you need?”

“God, harder. It’s starting to hurt,” you tell him and are so thankful when he obliges. Will ruts into you, even in his lust-filled haze he’s calculated, and he brushes up against that patch of nerves with each stroke. You drag his mouth to yours, hearing the sounds of the others as they try to fuck the powder out of their system.

“Benny isn’t the only one who’s loved you,” Will breathes into the hot cup of your mouth. “He loved you first, but he’s not the only one,” and his admission makes you clench around him. God, you love them too, more than just brothers in arms. More than should be legal. “Fuck your pussy is so wet,” he groans, moving you so that you’re on your knees for him. He slides back inside you, groaning about how fucking hot and tight you are for him and you bear down. The feeling of drowning only seems to intensify the longer and harder they fuck you and fuck each other, but all you can concentrate on is Will. Will, with his lists and tallies and need to keep track of everything. Will, who is making you see stars with every punch of his cock into you. Will, who is asking so sweetly if he can stick a thumb in your ass and there’s no way on this Earth that you’re going to tell him no. He does and you’re so full of William fucking Miller that you collapse to your chest, hips held up only by the hand on your waist and that fucker has the audacity to chuckle. You’re close, so close and when Frankie crawls back to you, his lips wet and swollen as he shoves a hand between your thighs to pinch your clit, you’re gone again. Will fucks you through it, Frankie talks you through it.

“That’s it baby,” he says, “come all over Ironhead’s cock. Soak him, princesa. Let him feel how good that pussy is.” Frankies words have an effect on more than just you and Will finishes, gritting his teeth and saying your name. He takes gentle fingers and runs them down your spine but his hand is knocked away by Pope’s, coming to take his turn.

“God, I’m so horny,” you whine, pressing back against the length of Pope.

“It’s the powder, sweet girl,” Will says, still hard as he presses up next to you.

“Poison, more like,” you groan as Santi presses the head of his cock against your clit. You can’t think, can’t breathe, unless someone’s, everyone’s hands are on you. Benny’s come to slide across your ass and Fish’s fingers toy with your tits. Will’s fingers slide in your puffy cunt, fucking you open while Santiago rubs his cock across your clit. You’re so overwhelmed by them, so entranced, that you don’t even realize you’re speaking to them.

“I love you. All of you. Have for years. God, I’ve dreamed of this,” you say, the head of Santi’s cock catching at your hole. You press back onto him and he hisses, his hands working around Benny’s and digging into your skin. You start your own rhythm, fucking back on Pope’s cock and from the sound of his moans, he likes it. Words drop from his lips, his fingernails digging into the soft skin of your hips.

“That’s it, princesa,” he snarls, his voice thick and husky with lust and need. “Fuck yourself on my cock, show me how bad you want it,” and god do you want it bad. They’re overwhelming you, hands and mouths everywhere as you fuck Santi. It still hurts so much, makes your nerve endings catch fire and your pussy so slick and when you say that out loud, Pope takes over. He’s so strong and he beats your pussy up with long, hard strokes. You come once with two of Benny’s fingers in your ass and then another time when Fish manages to get his face in between your thighs and lick your swollen clit. Will never leaves your side, his cock red and weeping. You try to suck at him once or twice but you can’t seem to concentrate enough to get him off. Pope has stamina and it feels like it’ll never end and right now you’re glad for it.

After what feels like hours, Pope pushes everyone back and flips you over, hitching a leg over his shoulder as he bends down to kiss you. His lips are soft but insistent against yours, his tongue dipping into your mouth as he fucks you. His hands come to rest on your ribs and his fingers touch the scar there. “I’m sorry, for everything,” he tells you, bending to kiss the spot. It’s such a touching moment in the heat and sweat and slick of the powder that it cracks your heart open. Then Pope is back at it again, moving quicker and all softness is forgotten. Santi still hasn’t come and the feel of him pounding into you sends little shocks of relief into your nervous system.

You briefly think about what that informant said and snort a laugh, which makes everyone stop. It’s the only lucid moment you’ll all have for several hours.

“The fuck are you laughing at?” Benny says, pulling his mouth off Frankie’s cock.

“Thinking about that informant. That one that told Redfly that Pope made her see God every time. I see what she’s talking about,” Santi huffs a laugh in your ear and you know you’ve inflated his ego but the longer he pounds into you, the more it makes sense.

“You’re going to make him insufferable, sweet girl,” Will says in your ear, pulling at your nipples. You gasp and clench, which makes Santi groan.

“I’m going to cum, fill up this pretty pussy with all our cum and then fuck it back out of you,” he grunts and you like the sound of that. Santi screws up his face and buries his head in your neck as he cums, pressing as deep into you as he can get. He kisses you as he comes down and then all four of them are there, taking turns capturing your lips. “I love you.” You don’t know who says it and who doesn’t, you only know that you say it a thousand times but it still doesn’t feel like enough.

It goes like this for hours, them taking turns fucking you until slowly you all come back to yourselves. Santi and Will are first, making sure to ply the rest of you with water and protein bars and MRE’s after they shower. Frankie is next and he joins their little party in the communal space, letting you and Benny work out the last of the poison. You two had it the worst, the effects are lasting. They don’t speak but they can hear the grunts and moans coming from the only bedroom in the place. Eventually, the noises stop and they wait patiently to see if they’ll start back up again.

Finally, it’s Will that speaks. “Do you think we ought to check on them?” Santi nods, getting up and grabbing water and a couple MRE’s from his pack. He comes back shortly, wrappers in his hand.

“They’re both out. Or they were, until I woke them up. They had a full bottle each and some food. I’d be shocked if they didn’t fall back asleep.”

“When she wakes up, are we going to talk about this?” Will asks.

“I don’t know,” Santi says, his face in his hands.

“I think we all told her we loved her. Fuck, she even said it back,” Frankie says. He’s not sure he said the exact words but you knew what he meant, right?

“Yeah but this is unconventional. Normal people don’t do this.”

“Since when are we normal, Ironhead?” Pope snaps, but Will isn’t offended. He knows that lashing out is Santi’s way of showing fear. “We killed people for a living. That was our job,” and Will nods. He knows. He was there. But then there’s motion down the hallway, a soft shuffling sound and you appear, Benny hot on your heels.

Will catalogues you as you come in, you look exhausted but also content. You managed to get dressed back in your tac pants and tank but you’re barefoot and braless as you pad into the room. He counts 6, no 7, hickeys on your neck and chest and he knows Fish left at least a three more on your breasts. And when you turn to grab a chair and sit he sees a bite mark on your shoulder blade that’s already purpling. He’s pretty sure that one was Santi.

“Hey,” you say softly to them, sitting in a chair backwards, your legs spread around the back of it. Benny grabs a chair and shoves it up behind you, keeping his body as close to yours as he can get. Will searches for the jealousy in his bones from earlier and is surprised but relieved when he doesn’t find any.

“Hey,” Pope replies, his hair mussed from shoving his fingers through it. “Are you okay? I’m sorry I didn’t know what it was,” and Will hears the helplessness in his voice, that feeling of being out of control. None of them are accustomed to that but at least they’ve been out of the life long enough to adjust, Santi hasn’t.

Frankie watches as Benny drags his lips across your shoulder, his hat backwards, and Frankie feels a hot shot of arousal through his spine. How the fuck is he horny right now? They just fucked for literal hours and you and Benny fucked for at least another hour after that. But he watches Benny watch all of them with hooded eyes, his arm wrapped around your waist, and Frankie wants to press you between them again. He wants to see if you make the same pretty noises that you did earlier before they lost track of everything. But then you’re speaking and he’s got to focus on your words.

“So,” you start and everyone leans forward, anticipating your next words. “That was……interesting,” Benny barks a short laugh from behind you, nosing your hairline.

“That’s a good word for it, Honeybee.”

Frankie clears his throat and four pairs of eyes slide to him. “Did anyone say….anything….they didn’t mean?” He asks, choosing his words carefully. He knows Benny and Will and Santiago all told you they loved you and he said something close, or at least he tried to. He looks pointedly at you because this whole thing hinges on you and how you feel about this. There is no them without you.

“You don’t have to give us an answer right now, sweet girl,” Will tells you, dragging a hand over his jaw. “But I don’t care how strange it may seem to other people, I’m in.”

“Me too,” Frankie says.

“I am as well,” Benny says, nosing up against your jaw, whispering an ‘I love you’ in your ear that no one else can hear.

Four pairs of eyes slide to Santiago and he drops his face in his hands and you move to go to him but Benny’s arm keeps you caged. “Let him figure it out on his own,” he whispers.

“I’m going to fuck something up,” Santi finally says after several moments of silence.

“To be fair, Garcia, I think we’re all going to fuck this up,” you say as you snort a laugh. “This won’t exactly be easy.” Santi lifts his head to look at you. “We’ve known each other so long. We’ve been through so much together. This, all of us, feels…natural?”

“Yeah, there’s so many things that could go wrong. So much we could fuck up,” Benny says. “But we all love our girl here, right?” Three other heads nod at him. “And our girl loves us, right?” And you nod your head, which is a little difficult because Benny has his cheek pressed up against yours. “Then fuck it, I don’t care what society or other people think. Let’s make this shit work.”

It makes sense, Benny’s little speech, and everyone is nodding and agreeing and you only have one thought and you huff a laugh when you think it.

“What are you laughing at this time, princesa?” Frankie asks.