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heyhilana · 2 years

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Say Yes (Javier Peña and Horacio Carrillo)

Summary: Carrillo and Peña work closely with you during the takedown of Escobar. With tension rising between you three and you inviting them in to your apartment, a drink turns into everything you fantasized about and more.

A/N: Ha, remember when I posted this accidentally? Welp, that's what happens when you don't check your queue for a few months LMAO. But at last, it's here after many months of writing this on and off since this was a new challenge for me as I've never written a threesome before. I'm 90% sure this is right because I'm running off of low sleep and I will come back to edit this if I need to but I hope you enjoy! As always, drink water and stay beautiful 💚

Pairing: Javier Peña and Horacio Carrillo x !f reader (I believe that's how you do it pls correct me if I'm wrong)

Warnings: (A list whew and I was even thinking about dp but another time) Light spanking, hair pulling, cunt spanking, f and m receiving oral, p in v penetration (don't be silly wrap it up like candy) cumshot on stomach, cumshot on tongue. I think that's it but I will add more if I need to :)

Tagged: @squidlywiddly87 (uh now you can read this LMAO but I hope you enjoy!)

Word count: 7.7k (I promise this was supposed to be shorter)

“Care to come up for a drink?” An innocent question led to a night that was unforgettable if it could be put into words. It sparked something that the three of you were oblivious to. There was tension between the three of you, a sexual tension to be exact, but it was unspoken due to work. Murphy would make note of it, seeing how Carrillo and Peña would look at you when it was ridiculously hot out, you having to strip off a layer or two to keep yourself cool. Your shirt would cling to your body due to the sweat, outline your breasts more than the shirt would do when you weren’t sweating.

He would also make note of how you would take notice of how their shirts would cling to their muscles, seeing how sculpted their bodies were. Carrillo’s arms were…intimidating for some people. But for you, they were what led to a pool of arousal to form in your underwear. Those pants that Javi would wear, that would shape the lower half of his body, mainly his butt, well, you always wondered what it looked like without his clothes on. The three of you thought that you were discreet about the lust that you had for each other, but Steve always took note of it, just to see the annoyed expressions on either one of your faces.

Was he wrong? Not exactly. It was obvious that there was something between the three of you, a carnal desire that was mistaken for something so little, almost nothing in your lives. Sure, there was flirting exchanged from the three of you. One-liners coming from both Carrillo and Peña that would leave you blushing. You playing with their stuff like taking Peña’s aviators or taking Carrillo’s walkie talkie, forcing them to chase after you and grab you, making you all feel slightly aroused by the close proximity that you all shared. It was friendly on the surface, but it was bordering a line of no return. You all were determined to keep it as nothing more, nothing less.

But the lines were getting closer to being blurred by touching each other. It was more frequent, and it was getting harder to never let it drift down to where it was actually needed. You longed for a touch on the arm to go to them grabbing your breasts, just like they longed for you to go to palming them in their pants. And maybe it had to go further with them going under your shirt, getting a chance to let their rough, calloused hands touch your soft skin. Maybe it was necessary for you to reach down, going to their underwear to feel the thin material only making their erections more prominent. Maybe it was necessary to just strip everything off, to act on impulse and do what felt right in that moment. After all, protocol could be broken in desperate measures.

Needless to say, it wasn’t hard to let your mind go down a road of endless possibilities of having just one of them take you, perhaps letting both of them take you. Late nights alone in your apartment could be filled with you moaning their names, one hand down your cotton shorts and the other palming your breast, letting profanities slip out as you drew yourself closer to an orgasm. You thought of having one fucking you senseless and the other fucking your face, neither one of them taking any action in slowing down their actions. How they could edge you closer to an orgasm, but deny it in the last second, seeing you whine at the loss of their touch that was a drug to you. You thought of how they would love to see you beg for more, to fuck you harder, to let you cum, to make you forget the day’s events until you were seeing white.

You just wished that they would take you one day so that you wouldn’t have to wonder how big they actually were in those pants that would occasionally outline their cocks. The image of them right before you, their cocks painfully hard and waiting to fill your mouth up and reach the back of your throat. To feel those soft, delicate hands of yours wrap around it, pumping it slowly and making eye contact with them as you did it, batting those eyelashes at them before taking them in your mouth again was what brought you on the brink of an orgasm. The image of them waiting to take you so they could ruin everything about you, leave you with your makeup running down your face and a hoarse voice from all the screaming of their names would be imprinted in your brain.

And in their respective homes your name could be escaping their lips, their hand down their boxers, pumping slowly and letting a finger circle around the tip, wishing it was your tongue on their cock. They wanted to look down to see that mouth of yours stretched wide open, trying to fit their cock in your mouth so it could reach new depths. They wanted to thrust into your mouth, grab your hair so they could take control while you took it all like the good girl that you were. They wanted to hear and feel you gag on their cocks, making them grunt and whisper sweet nothings to you about how you were doing a good job of taking them with no complaints.

Sweat would be dripping down their face as they thought of taking you in the office after seeing you in a tight blouse and equally tight pants, just wanting to rip the blouse open and hear the buttons fall on the floor as they took a breast out of your bra to suck on them, hearing soft moans come out one by one from you before they just took you on the fucking desk. Out in the open to relieve some stress and try to see who could make the other cum first before going home to finish the activities. Or even after a night of going out and going back to each other’s homes like this one, maybe acting on impulse to kiss you instead of watching you walk in, seeing the way your pants cuffed your ass the way they would cuff it with their hands.

The fantasy was alive in your minds, but you guys wouldn’t act on it. Escobar was what mattered, not having Pena and Carrillo strip you naked and take you until you just couldn’t take it anymore, your sensitivity making it impossible to take it from either one of them. Them fucking you until your juices are just coating their fucking cocks, screaming so fucking loud that the cars that drive by are barely audible. Them getting off on seeing you in a state of euphoria, the high of cumming multiple times would have you see white as your eyes rolled back. But Escobar was the top priority, and impulsive decisions were never good. They were unnecessary risks that led to consequences that the faint hearted couldn’t handle.

“One drink won’t hurt, right?” Peña looked at you, and then Carrillo. Carrillo was hesitant, not knowing what one drink would do. One drink was the fatality of all morally right decisions. It could be the drink that led to answers of questions that a sober person would normally omit. It could be a detriment to a friendship, a relationship even. It could change the dynamics of how you would all look at each other, knowing how you all were in a different environment without the looming pressure of catching Escobar on your minds. To let all the stress, whether it would be mental, emotional, or physical just escape for once. That was what one drink could do, but was it worth it?

“Just say yes. That’s all you gotta do.” You bit your lip as you said it, your fingers twirling your keys as you waited for his answer. Were you trying to entice Carrillo by biting your lip? Yes, but what would a little lip bite do to someone? It wouldn’t hurt anyone. What would hurt would be how they would take you objectively, just as you imagined they would. A pain that would be worth feeling as it drew you closer to climaxing and fulfilling a fantasy that was created in the depths of your mind the moment you transferred down to Columbia and laid your eyes on the two of them.

“Yes,” With the way that he said it, it was almost as if he was trying to familiarize himself with that word. After all, it was used in a context of agreeing to go upstairs to a woman’s apartment that he’s been waiting to fuck for as long as he could remember. A smile tugged at your lips from his response and you went to open the door, feeling both of their eyes on your ass. You decided to make it interesting for you by dropping your keys, bending down to reach them, putting your ass out on the forefront for them to look at and long to touch, as were you longing to have them touch you in the most intimate of places.

You finally opened the door, turning on the light and placing your keys on the table, moving out of the way so they could walk in. You took notice of their outfits, Carrillo in that dark green outfit that was a tad bit too tight around his arms, highlighting how strong he was on top. You looked over to Pena, seeing that his shirt was unbuttoned, sweating near his neck which only made it harder to ignore how his neck was a turn on for you. It was just so strong, and it only looked hotter when he was angry. The way his neck would be flexed, the tension reminding you of how his arms would be flexed when he would be man-handling a suspect. You forced yourself to peel your eyes away from them and walked over to the kitchen, going to the refrigerator. Knowing that beer was the “safer” option for three of you, you pulled out three bottles, feeling that wine would be a bit too formal for a night like this.

You handed them the beer after opening it up for them, letting your fingers brush past theirs. You wondered how they would feel on the rest of your body, caressing it or making it a point to feel pain that was more so pleasure for you. You walked back over to the kitchen to get your beer, taking a small sip, letting the alcohol enter your body after a day of no success in catching Escobar. It was disappointing, to say the least. You guys were putting your lives on the line, with no avail. Escobar was always two, three, maybe even four steps ahead of you guys and there was no one to turn to except each other.

The police? Not a chance with the way they were all on a payroll for Escobar and every other drug lord that could pay them off. The Columbian Government? They were just as bad as the police, maybe even worse as they were the ones setting the example for the police to follow. Your government? They were no help to you guys as their actions were the complete opposite of what they said they were doing on television. All they wanted was to ensure that they could get some money out of this and to have the chance to play captain on a boat that was sinking. The president could lie all he wanted to on television, to say that they were making progress in something that was only going to go down in flames in the end. But the fact of the matter was you were the ones that were out there that could see the lies. The government only wanted the glory of saying that they helped with the war on drugs, if you could even it call it that.

Were you guys perfect? No, not in the slightest bit. You got your hands dirty in the line of war, even when you wanted to stay dry for just one day. Blood covered your hands no matter how hard you scrubbed it off. It was still there, in memory. No number of promotions, awards, or congratulations from those that knew or didn’t know the situation at hand could make you guys feel relieved in what it was that you guys did every single day. It changed you guys, whether you believed it or not. You were not the same as you guys were before the wild goose chase of finding and capturing Escobar was set into motion. You saw things you wished to forget, did things that haunted your dreams, and wondered if everything that you guys were doing was for a noble cause.

In theory it was, saving the people from drugs that destroyed families, homes, and could bring down anyone that was against it. But in reality? It was just politics, something that you hated for as long as you could remember. Politics that only worked in your favor when it was something that could suit the ones in power. It was bullshit, but so was everything about this war on drugs and capturing Escobar. You needed a break from the bullshit that surrounded your life as a person trying to capture someone so far out, and so did they.

So, one drink was what brought things to a haze of some sorts, to where you said things that you would normally keep to yourself. You made a few flirtatious comments, letting the alcohol do the talking that you wouldn’t dare say with a sober mind. You guys all went over to your couch, and you were in between the two of them, Peña to your left and Carrillo to your right. The tv was on, playing a black-and-white Columbian movie that none of you guys were paying attention to.

Your beers were slowly dwindling away with each sip and the conversation started to take a turn from light to heavy. You felt yourself relax a tad bit, seeing them relax too and look more alive. You got another drink for the three of you, and the more the alcohol entered your bodies, the closer you got to making rash decisions. You would touch them in places that you only thought of when you would touch yourself, needing a release of some sort without taking it too far. Maybe the lack of eating made it easier to have the alcohol take over quickly, or maybe you were just done waiting for something that needed to happen. They did the same but were more subtle as they wanted to tread carefully, not wanting to blur the lines of friendship over a misunderstanding.

By the fifth round, it was decided that they would crash at your place for the night, seeing as though they couldn’t even call a cab for themselves without slurring their words. You felt yourself become wet at the thought of them staying over, knowing that they would only be in the next room over instead of being a drive away. You weren’t sure if your drunk self could keep your fantasies hidden away with that in mind, and they weren’t sure if they could last knowing that you were in the other room, in skimpy clothing that barely kept you cool with how hot it was down in Colombia.

Suddenly there was less space between the three of you, your arms brushing against one another and they leaned in closer to you, to where you could smell the hints of cologne that sent you on a frenzy. Maybe sometime in between they both made the accusation that you moaned when you got a whiff of their scent, but you only laughed, knowing that they had no clue as to how you really moaned when you were being pleasured. You playfully hit them, letting your touch linger a bit longer than it should’ve. You felt the goosebumps rise on their skin with your touch. The hair on their necks would stand tall as you leaned on either one of their shoulders, and you could feel goosebumps on your skin rise as they would casually place a hand on your thighs, to just grab something that was across from them. Their hands were strong and were interesting to look at, seeing that they held stories that you didn’t know about.

Their eyes would be a tell-tale sign that they had seen the horrors of trying to dismantle a drug cartel. But their hands were the proof of them trying to make a difference. They would move your hair out of your face, taking their time in studying your features. You were all treading on uncharted territory that was dangerous, but danger was what was needed in life. Danger was the fire that would keep you alive. To burn brighter and higher as you took chance after chance to live a life that was only shown in the movies.

Deciding to stop drinking after the fifth round, you got up, placing both of your hands on one of their thighs to balance yourself. You could feel them tense up from your hands gripping their thighs, but they didn’t say anything about it. You took their beers as they were done, and you brought them over to the kitchen to throw them out. You were getting ready to get some water when you heard them whispering. You couldn’t make out what they were saying but you figured it was nothing serious. Suddenly, they got up and went into the kitchen. You turned around and saw them eyeing you, making you feel hot. Their stare made you question whether or not you could last until you went to bed. You went to go to another part of the kitchen, but they got closer to you. You took a sip of your water, needing something to cool you off as you felt hotter with them being so close to you.

As you went to turn, Horacio came up behind you, placing his hands on your hips and dipping his head to bring it closer to your neck, his breath fanning it. Javier was in the front, looking down as he took his fingers and brought them to your chin, lifting it up ever so softly. You stared into those deep but gentle eyes where his irises had bloomed from the arousal that was building from the time he walked into your apartment.

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks and you bit your lip, seeing that had a reaction on Peña as he let out a slight groan at the sight of your teasing. Horacio let his hands drift down to get closer to your clothed core, something that you longed for. While Horacio went south, Javier ventured away from the northern area and went to grab your breasts, lightly squeezing them. It felt so fucking good to be touched after such a long time of being denied of that desire.

“Bonita, don’t fight it. Let go.” Javier could sense that you were trying to hold back, not wanting to give in just yet. Horacio hummed in agreement as he continued to kiss your neck, wanting to make it easier on their end to get you to stop holding back. You let out a soft moan, barely audible once Javi got to your shirt, opening the buttons and letting his fingers touch your breasts. Horacio let his hands unbutton your pants, not needing to see what he was doing. Perhaps he had a lot of experience like his partner did.

“Just say yes. That’s all you gotta do.” Horacio mimicked your words from earlier as he let his hand go into your underwear, feeling how your arousal has been building for the both of them. Javier unbuttoned your shirt entirely, letting your lacy blue bra be exposed. You knew that you couldn’t fight it anymore. You managed to catch your breath and open your eyes, still seeing Javi’s eyes transfixed on to you, waiting for your answer.

“Yes,” You breathed out, feeling Horacio’s fingers go down where they needed to be at. Javi wasted no time in capturing your lips, and you moaned in his mouth as his lips were the perfect blend of beer and cigarettes and Horacio had gotten down to putting his fingers in between your lips, gathering your slick to then rub your clit.

“How long have you been like this for? Were you just going to go in your room and get yourself off without a little help?” Horacio whispered in the shell of your ear, rubbing nice and slow, making your hips roll with him. You continued to kiss Javi but Horacio’s words made your face burn with heat, moaning slightly in the other’s mouth as Javi touched you all over.

“Let’s take this to the bedroom,” Javi said in between kisses. You all separated but it wasn’t until Horacio carried you bridal style to the room where it finally hit you that this was happening. This was not a fantasy no longer. No, the two men that you were torn between choosing wanted you just as much as you wanted them. If that was not enough to send you over the moon, the way you were placed on the bed and both of them staring down at you, waiting to ravish you was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Javi turned to Carrillo, and the grins they both shared before moving over to you made your stomach drop. Before you knew it, your clothes were being discarded, shirt thrown to the side, your bra unclasped, pants shimmying down with your panties and you were helping them without a second thought, now with you completely naked and them still fully clothed.

“Let’s see how pent up you are,” Carrillo murmured, him trailing up to you to kiss you and Javi traveling down to your exposed sex, his fingers drumming in between your thighs to get them open.

“Open up for me, cielo.” Javi commanded as you were slowly getting lost in Carrillo’s kiss, his much rougher and hasty than Javi’s. You opened up and soon you felt that fluffy hair nuzzling between your thighs before he used his plump lips to suck on your clit. You moaned into Carrillo’s mouth as his hand traveled to your breasts to pinch and tease your raised nipples, the added sensation making you lose focus. You were biting Carrillo’s lip here and there as your hand was moving down to his pants, rubbing his prominent bulge that you were pleasantly surprised about. Before you could do much more, he moved his hands away to undo his belt, pulling down his pants in one swift move after.

Immediately you were clawing at Horacio’s shirt, trying to get the buttons undone so you could feel him, pull him closer to you so that when your peak reached you could fall apart with him all over you. He laughed in between feverish kisses over your neediness, pulling off his shirt too as he pulled away from you, your mouth falling agape as you realized that everything you thought about him was right and then some.

“How does she taste?” Horacio asked as he was stroking himself in his briefs.

“Like heaven,” Javi pulled his head up to speak and dove right back down without a second thought, making you whine more. Horacio captured your lips once more as he was moving his hand between both of your breasts, nipples become overly sensitive from it all. You didn’t know what to focus on more, but with the way Javi sucked on your clit and licked with the perfect balance, not letting up as if it was his last meal unlocked something in you. There was no guy that was more enthusiastic about eating you out the away Javi was. He put his all into it, occasionally licking from bottom to top, top to bottom to get every drop in your slit, giving you a minute to catch your breath before he went back to your bundle of nerves which made you arch your back. But when the deft fingers that you always found yourself getting lost into looking at slipped into your sex, the band of control snapped.

You moved your hand back down to tease Horacio, slipping your hand under the waistband of his briefs to touch him, semi hard already which put a smile on your face. But that smile soon went away as you felt Javi curling his fingers as he pushed them in and out, lightly grazing your spot as he sucked on your clit a little faster, matching the same pace as when he pushed in. You were a mess, sweat beading down your body, hands trying to find someone to grip to hold yourself together, and you were willing to lose yourself because of their ministrations for a lifetime. And so you did, the way Carrillo’s tongue slipped into your mouth, the twist of your nipple, the curl of Javi’s fingers, the way your bundle of nerves were sent over the edge, you were a goner. Blinding pleasure took up your body, mind, and soul as you stilled in stroking Carrillo’s cock and your legs tightened around Javi’s head. But neither of them stopped working you through it, only continuing and slowing little by little until you were done. With that, they moved away from and marveled at how you looked, the smirks on their face making you want more.

“You sure you’re ready for more?” Javi cooed, and you frantically nodded your head as you got up. Horacio was only in his briefs but Javi was still clothed, making you pout. He realized what you wanted so he undressed so he did as you moved to the edge of your bed. Horacio decided it would be more fun if he kissed your neck while you watched, and the show was more than you expected. You knew that Javi’s golden skin was meant to be worshipped, but to see him half naked as his white shirt was pulled off, undoing his belt as he took off his pants, briefs coming down with them as his cock hard, precum leaking when you didn’t even get the chance to touch him as much as you wanted to.

“Someone likes what they see,” Carrillo whispered in your ear, making chills run through you. He came back around and you realized he took off his briefs as well, leaving them naked right in front of you. Without much thought, you got on your knees, getting close to them. If this was how they were now, you wondered how they kept it together being around you so much. You took both of them in your hands, pumping slowly and looking up at them, seeing Javi gripping the bed and Carrillo trying to hold it together by biting his lip, blood threating to seep out if he bit down any harder.

“Who should I start with?” You batted your eyelashes at them, looking down at their cocks and seeing the precum leaking out over your finger.

“Do what feels right,” Javi encouraged, so you took his, still pumping Carrillo with a little more speed and kitten licking the tip to catch the precum, the salty taste making you smirk. You began to suck the tip, looking up at him with the innocent eyes you always teased him with, you both knowing that there was just a glint hidden in between your stare that meant something else, something beyond professionalism. Seeing that he was straining himself to not thread his other hand in your hair, you went ahead and began to take him all, no more teasing after dreaming of this for so long.

“That’s it, take it all,” Javi praised, grip on the bed getting tighter, his knuckles turning snow white. You flattened your tongue and began to take more of him with ease, and the guttural groans escaping his mouth you were in pure ecstasy. You kept bobbing your head, matching the pace of stroking Carrillo’s cock, your fingers swiping over his tip or you gagging on Javi’s cock. You didn’t care about how used you were for the moment, just that your biggest fantasy was coming true.

“Go please him now, pretty girl.” Javi pulled you off of his cock, and you shifted over to Carrillo, wetness dripping to your thighs with the way he looked at you. Instantly, he wrapped his hand around your hair and spat on his cock, getting it nice and ready before you were beginning to take him in your mouth, the stark contrast between the two driving you insane as you loved the gentle nature of Javi but Horacio’s roughness was just enough to make you want more.

“That’s it, let me fuck that pretty face,” He was thrusting into your mouth and you were taking it, Javi deciding to move your hand away to stroke himself and watch you in the act. You could feel yourself gagging here and there, his sheer size making your work overtime to take him, but when he would hold your head in place to fuck your mouth, you couldn’t help but moan. When you slapped his thigh to let you up, he did, bending down to kiss you afterwards.

“I knew with how much you talk I could put that mouth to good use,” He whispered in your ear as they both help you back up to your feet. Your jaw was a little sore, but it made you excited as you wondered what the stretch would be for you where you needed them most. Hell, if you knew this was going to happen you would’ve trained your other hole to take them both at the same time, feeling them both thrust in and out, the fullness that you craved from them finally being achieved. You pictured laying on Javi’s soft body, back flushed against his chest, his cock halfway in your hole, and Carrillo holding your legs up as he pushed in and out, the stretch making you cry from so much overstimulation as you would rub your clit to match his thrusts. You needed that to happen if this would happen again between you three, but you settled for laying back down on the bed and Carrillo and Javi joining you.

“Who do you want to go first?” Javi asked, hand rubbing in between your legs.

“Depends on what position you both want me in.”

“I want to see you. All of you,” Javi moved his hand down further, index finger swiping over your clit to make you buck your hips. “And considering how much this one looks at your ass, I think he’ll want you from the back. Am I wrong?” You both looked at him, and the amused smile confirmed it all.

“He’s right. Now choose cariño.”

“I want Javi to go first.”

“Say no more, bonita.” He kissed your cheek and moved down, putting his hand sin between your legs to open you up. Carrillo got up and started to stroke himself right above your mouth.

“I’m happy I get to use your pretty mouth once more,” You were smiling as he looked down at you, the way the moon was highlight the sharpness of his body, trailing its way up from his stomach to his chest, to the strong neck that you could see yourself leaving marks on. Your eyes shot back down to his cock however, still glistening and the tip leaking more with precum. You sat up and he tapped his cock against your lips, making you take him in your mouth to stop the teasing. You moved your head as best as you could but when he took control and fucked your mouth again, his cock hitting your throat repeatedly, you were moaning as you enjoyed how he used you, and how you could feel Javi gathering up slick from between your lips to smear on his cock.

“Such a good slut for him,” He murmured as he climbed on top of you and was rubbing the tip of his cock in between your folds, tip hitting your clit especially and rubbing around to make you jump. He pushed in without warning, the stretch making you moan loudly and Carrillo stilling inside your mouth. Your walls fluttered around him as he pushed in more, nice and slow to feel you, take his time with you. You could see from your peripheral the way he was biting his lip, holding it together as he softly sweared under his breath.

“So fucking wet, all for us,” He bent down to whisper it in your ear, making you clench more around his cock. He rutted inside of you, making sure every ridge and curve would be felt. It was a slower pace, but you figured he was slow as you were a little preoccupied with how Carrillo was still using you until he pulled you off, letting you rest your head back down on the bed.

“I want to watch. Give me a show,” Carrillo kissed your forehead and moved off to the side, leaving you to focus completely on Javi. He thrusted with more consistency, skin slapping as you could feel the curve brushing against your walls. You clawed at his back, trying to hold it together as you didn’t think in a million years that he would feel this good in just a few thrusts.

“Javi, fuck, you feel so good,” You were whining more, legs wrapping around him.

“That’s it baby, let it all out.” He cooed in your ear as he went a little faster, the speed finally giving you what you needed. It was as though you two were rocking a little, both wanting the other to pull out but the fullness you had and how your velvety walls clung around his size made it impossible to want to pull out fully. All you knew was that in this moment, you would go into any position for them just so that you could feel both of them fill you up in different angles. Tips pressing up near your spot, the stretch, the way your walls would cling to them out of desperation, everything you could want was happening as you moaned while sucking Carrillo’s cock and Javi was realizing how no matter how much he would tighten his hand it never matched to how you felt.

Javi’s hand snuck down in between you and the flick of his finger on your clit made you jolt, a sharp moan coming out of you and going right to Carrillo as he thrusted into your mouth a little more. Toying with you, he would match his thrusts and slap your clit a little making you whimper before rubbing it to soothe you. Before you could pull him out of your mouth to say anything, you came with a force so heavy it blinded you, the moan coming from deep inside you that vibrated through Carrillo as you moaned. Javi rode you through it while Carrillo continued to use you.

“You loved being used like this don’t you? A little slut for the two of us.” You hummed in agreement which made Carrillo buck his hips into your mouth more.

“Do that again and I might have to fuck your pretty face again,” Carrillo half warned, half made a promise on it. You contemplated on it, but the idea of testing your luck with the man that scared and also turned you on got the best of you. So you did, and the way he took hold of your hair and thrusted relentlessly made you tighten around Javi’s cock.

“Keep tightening around me, hermosa,” The strain in his voice, knowing that he was fucking into you harder, faster, all too consuming while you were testing the limits with your throat, jaw-slacked and looking up at him with the doe eyes that both of them loved once you regained control of yourself. How you managed to breathe through your nose and take it even when he barely pulled out of your mouth to let you breathe was beyond your understanding, but to have both of them was worth it.

“Gonna make him cum, little one?” You hummed in response as Javi’s death grip on your hips loosened and you unwrapped your legs, him pulling out and painting a nice cum shot on your stomach, thick ropes of cum that made you tighten around nothing. He was out of breath, perspiration lining his skin, biting his lip even. He squeezed the tip more to get some more out, and Carrillo pulled out of your mouth. You brought your hand down to get some on your fingers, swiping it up and tasting it. You could see Javi shutter and Carrillo transfixed by the way you lapped it up with each venture down to your stomach and back to your mouth.

“Cleaning up your mess like I knew you would,” Javi moved down to kiss the top of your head as you tasted the last bit of it, enjoying the saltiness of it all. “But how are you feeling?”

“I feel fine. Little tired but I can go on.” You were still catching your breath but the haze that was clouding your mind made you want to go on for more.

“You sure? I don’t want to push you.” Carrillo, surprisingly soft, pushed your hair back.

“If I can’t go anymore, I’ll stop.” You smiled at him and he held back a groan. How could you look so pretty below him?

“You think you can take me?” He countered, and the thought of being stretched out further excited you more than it should’ve. Oh, how did you last this long without having them?

“Doesn’t hurt to try now does it?” The glint in your eyes stoked the fire inside of him that he thought was already burning red hot the moment he entered your apartment.

“That’s a good girl. Turn around for me.” You turned around and got on all fours, facing your mirror and the window which let the moonlight shine on all three of you. He got behind you, hands settled right near your love handles and pulled you towards him, just when you could feel the curve of his dick pressed against your slit, rubbing right in between.

“Look at you coating my fucking dick, baby,” Slapping your ass, you jolted as he pressed the tip near your hole. “And now I get to feel you.” And he pushed in a little roughly, the stretch almost unbearable as you didn’t think you could take either one of them. But you did, the slow yet strong pumps to test you out was eliciting the wanton moans that could be heard out the window. Javi reached down to you and kissed your temple, tilting your head so you could look at him.

“Such a good girl. Don’t stop, bonita.” He pushed the stray hairs out of your face as you took the slow increase in speed from Carrillo, the tip brushing your walls with each thrust. Javi grabbed one of your breasts and teased your nipple, pinching lightly. You bit your lip as the pain and pleasure mixed together, building with each second that passed. You couldn’t see much but both Javi and Carrillo were looking in the mirror, watching you with intensity. Although Javi was through, he felt a jolt go through him as he helped you get off. Carrillo took glances at your ass and your reflection in the mirror, getting harder at the site of you arched down, taking it him whole.

“Ay, ella se siente increíble,” Carrillo threw his head back a little as you started to meet him halfway, your breath hard to catch as you were beginning to get overstimulated. Javi met you down to your face and kissed your temple, mumbling sweet nothings in Spanish that if you could translate you would probably flutter around Carrillo.

“Baby, take a look at yourself in the mirror.” He whispered as his hand moved from your breasts up to your head and grabbed a fistful of your hair. His grip on your hair as he lifted your head up to look in the mirror made you whine, but your walls only tightened when you saw all three of you in the mirror. Javi’s face so close to yours, lips grazing your temple, you bent over in obscene ways, Carrillo taking you where you could see the way his arms were flexed based on the grip he had on your hips. You watched as he fucked you harder, seeing that he was looking down at how he was going in and out of you. You reveled in how soft Javi’s lips were against your skin, how he worshipped you and Carrillo took you in ways you never would speak about in broad daylight. Javi pulled away to move up and face Carrillo.

“Doesn’t she look so pretty like this?”

“She does. Should’ve done this sooner,” Carrillo was throwing his head back as you were beginning to meet his thrusts to get ever inch. Your third orgasm of the night was gaining traction and you were beginning to move a hand down to rub your sensitive clit but Javi stopped you, swatting your hand away and moving his other hand there.

“You’ll cum on our command. Got it?” Javi was looking at you through the mirror. You nodded but then you felt Carrillo and Javi stop. “Use your words.” They were both staring at you and you tried to gasp for some air to speak properly.

“Yes. I’ll cum on your command, I promise.” You darted your eyes between the two and they resumed, much to your pleasure. Deft fingers toying with your sensitive clit, curved and thick cock exploring your walls, and you were in your world of desire that seemed to be taking new heights the more you continued this. But now, with your climax getting closer and closer to blooming, you were beginning to feel your body shake.

“Not yet. Hold it.” Carrillo stayed steady with his thrusts and the tight circles that Javi was rubbing was making you grip the sheets.

“Please! Please, please let me cum!” You were begging, so close to the thread snapping and you cumming undone. You saw that the two of them looked at each other and nodded.

“Cum.” That was all that you needed to hear before you cried out, collapsing your upper half but the lower half being held up by Carrillo as he fucked you through your orgasm and Javi slowed his circles. You soon heard the grunts and felt the slow and sloppy thrusts coming as Carrillo pulled out and Javi moved away. You turned around to face him, on your knees in the bed looking up at him with your mouth open. He came with a grunt, the cum landing right on your tongue and a little on your lip. You swallowed it all and cleaned up, giving him a smile and it made more shot out on his hand. You took his hand and licked it up too, winking at him.

“So proud of you, princesa.” He grabbed your jaw gently and kissed your forehead. You were a mess, albeit a happy mess as you were trying to catch your breath with all the pleasure washing over you. Soon it slowed, Javi’s hand moving away to rub your back and Carrillo helping you lay down. Javi gave you one of the pillows as you lifted your head up to lay on it as Carrillo got up to go to the bathroom. Javi laid next to you and caressed your face, making you blush.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“I am. I don’t know how I’m going to get to work tomorrow though,” You joke, knowing that your legs were jelly at this point.

“We’ll drive you, but you better be walking since we can’t carry you around all day.” He kissed your forehead right when Carrillo came back with the towels from your bathroom. Javi took his towel and Carrillo tossed his to the side, tending to you. He got on the bed and was on top of you, wiping you off as you hummed in relief. Javi finished wiping himself off just as Carrillo got done with you. Still unable to move you were amused when Carrillo tossed your legs a little to get the sheet from underneath them. He then draped it over your lower body and then wiped himself off. Javi got under the sheet with you as Carrillo tossed the three towels in your hamper haphazardly.

“Someone’s gotta do their laundry now,” Carrillo teased.

“I’ll get to it eventually. Gotta find the feeling in my legs again to move.” Both laughed at your new state, used to you running around and now you were bed ridden for the night.

“By the morning you’ll be fine. But sleep.” Carrillo was getting ready to get dressed again as well as Javi, but you got up.

“Can you both stay with me?” You shifted your eyes between them, the little pleading as you moved to the middle of your bed igniting something in them.

They obliged after some thought, you in the middle with Carrillo on your back and Javi near your front. Carrillo’s hand rested on your ass and Javi’s was right near your shoulder. A little awkward, but both of them were softly snoring within minutes with all the energy you took out of them. Maybe you would end up not talking about it until the time came round again or even in passing, but for now you let the calm call of sleep lull you away.

366 notes · View notes

bobafetts-princess · 28 days

Text

Good Luck Charms

Months 7-12

Summary: After things have become a touch less frosty between you and Detective Magalon, you find that you actually like the man quite a bit. Maybe more than you bargained for.

Pairings: Benny ‘Borracho’ Magalon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7.5K

Warnings: cursing, canon-typical sexism, mentions of substance issues (pain meds), someone gets shot.

A/N: This is slow burnnnnnnnnnnn

Months 1-6 can be found here!

MONTH 7

Month 7 is when things change.

It’s a raid. You’ve all been on one before but never together and the guys have never seen you this dressed down. They’ve only ever seen you in work clothes; pencil skirts and jackets, power suits, wrap dresses, slacks and silk blouses. You never have a hair out of place, it’s always styled with the perfect work makeup.

But today your hair is braided, you’ve got on jeans and a pink button down and brown boots, with a bulletproof vest over the top. Not an ounce of makeup. It’s a different side of you and the guys don’t know what to make of it.

“Fed? Is that you?”

“What’ve you done with the chick that comes to the office every day?”

“Well damn I didn’t know you owned a pair of jeans!”

You roll your eyes at all of them, flipping them the bird which makes them cackle. Detective Magalon doesn’t say anything, but it doesn’t bother you.

Really. It doesn’t.

But the raid goes sideways, only a little. One of the ATF guys doesn’t clear a room completely and you get shot.

Well, not really shot. More like grazed. It rips a hole in arm of your shirt and slices you deep enough that you think you’ll need stitches, but you’re alive and that’s the important part. You’re just lucky it was your non-dominant arm so you can still pull the trigger.

Detective Magalon takes the guy down and checks on you, but you wave him off. It’s not the first time you’ve been shot and in your line of work? It won’t be the last either.

“I’m fine. Finish the raid. Suspect is in the center,” you yell over the sound of gunfire. Big Nick finds him and tackles him down, wrestling with the gun and managing to get it away from him. You’re next in, jumping on the suspects back and getting cuffs on him before he has a chance to get away.

You’re running on pure adrenaline and haul the suspect up, it’s the head of cocaine sect of the organization. Catching him alive was the number 1 priority of this mission and you and Detective Magalon (with the help of his team) have succeeded. You shove him out, handing him off to Mike to be booked and turn, looking to the team. They’re exchanging high fives and cheers and Detective Magalon smiles at you. Henderson comes to high five you and you raise your arm to give him one back. You’re smiling and relieved until a shot of pain goes through your arm and you have to drop it.

Benny knows you got shot. He was there when you jerked, grabbed the spot and yelled at him to keep going. He knows you got shot even though you cuffed the suspect and marched him out. He really knows you got shot though when you move to give Henderson a high five and gasp in pain. Medical doesn’t arrive quick enough (in his opinion, at least) but they end up patching you up. They’ve gotta strip you out of that pretty pink button up, leaving you in a white undershirt and jeans as they give you stitches in the back of an ambulance. Benny notices a tattoo along your collarbone that he hadn’t seen before and he wants to get a closer look.

“You good?” He asks, stepping over after being checked himself. You glance up at him and Benny is surprised to see a light dancing in your eyes, the after-effects of an adrenaline rush no doubt. The guys are behind him, checking in on you at the same time he is. He catches some words and a date, something he definitely can’t see when you wear your buttoned up power suits and those fucking pencil skirts.

“I’m good, Detective,” your eyes are flicking between them all and you turn your body, wincing slightly as the needle punctures skin and he reads what the ink says. ‘How lucky am I to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard’. Benny wonders if it’s about an ex but shakes the thought away before it can take root. Why would you get a tattoo about an ex anyways? Stupid thought. But then you’re speaking again, drawing Benny’s attention. “It’s not the first time I’ve been shot. At least this one didn’t require surgery.” You quip and Benny’s eyebrows raise at the insinuation. He knows the group chat is gonna blow up about this little insight into your life in a while and Benny already wants to put his phone on mute.

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

MONTH 8

With month 8 comes…..coffee? You’ve found this little hole in the wall place by your government issued apartment that serves fantastic coffee. They open at 5:30 in the morning, so when you get there at 5:45, the coffee is hot and fresh. They know you by first name at this point and know what time you come by in the morning. It’s easier than making drip coffee and it tastes better too.

Well one morning your alarm doesn’t go off. Or you shut it off. Or you sleep through it. You’re not really sure what happens. But you do know when you open your eyes and check the clock and see 7:30, you’re flying out of bed. You dress and clean up in record time and are out the door by 8:15, to your coffee shop by 8:20 and ordered before 8:25.

It’s 8:45 before you get a coffee in hand.

“I’m so sorry honey!” Shouts the owner, a stunning woman in her late 60’s. “One of my girls has the flu and one of our coffee machines broke!”

“It’s okay Mrs. Akron,” you assure her but god you are so late. You’re never late. Ever.

“Here darling,” she says, out of breath and frazzled. “Take a large black coffee, on me!” She thrusts your caramel macchiato at you as well as the large black. You start to protest but she won’t let you. “I insist! You’re running late and probably overslept, so you might need an afternoon boost. Take it,” she says, closing your hand around the cup. You nod at her, stopping to stuff a $50 in the tip jar before you make it to work. You roll in at 9:00, three hours late. The entire office whips their heads up and watches you walk in but you refuse to let it bother you.

“You good?” Detective Magalon asks and doesn’t press when you nod.

“Do you drink black coffee?” You ask before you lose the nerve. He’s bought you so much food, the least you can do is give him your extra coffee. “My coffee shop gave me an extra and….” You trail off, setting the coffee on his desk and taking a seat without an answer.

“Thanks.”

You simply nod but a couple times a week you bring him a large black coffee.

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

MONTHS 9&10

Months nine and ten brings a trial and it’s a long trial. The examination and cross examination and evidence and witnesses take nearly 6 weeks. You and Detective Magalon spend nearly every waking hour together, working with the district attorney to make sure all goes the way it should.

You’re both emotionally, mentally, and physically drained and by the time the jury is sent off to make their own decision, you feel like you can nap for hours.

In fact, you do.

The couch in the district attorney’s office is so dammed comfortable and you’re sitting next to Detective Magalon, whose body is just radiating heat. You’d both just finished testifying, his took 3 hours and yours took 4. You’re silent next to each other, too drained from all the information you had to recall and all the talking.

The next thing you know, you wake up. Your head is resting against Detective Magalon’s shoulder and you might (you’ll deny if anyone asks) have drooled on his shoulder. You push off him and get some distance between your bodies.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry. This case has taken it out of me. How long did I sleep?”

“Three hours.” He says, clicking his phone shut and looking at you.

“Oh my fucking god, you’re kidding? I’m so sorry,” you tell him but he waves you off.

“It’s been a long trial. I don’t blame you for being tired,” he says, standing. You hear his knees crack when he does and see a wince of pain cross his face as he makes his way to the restroom.

Oh my god, he let you sleep even though he had to piss? There’s no way you’re unpacking that right now.

Benny never tells you that he fell asleep too.

When the verdict comes back a few weeks later and the suspect is found guilty as sin, you celebrate. It’s only one person, only one head of the hydra you’re dealing with, but it’s something.

The guys get a couple packs of beer and one Friday after work, you drink together.

“Fed! You have to hang with us for a little while. You just had your first successful trial with us,” Connors insists and you agree to stay.

“One beer!” You tell them and they laugh and wave you off. It’s the first time you’ve ever drank with them and you’re so damn careful not to overdo it. They shoot the shit, swapping stories and peppering you with questions you refuse to answer.

“Still no boyfriend?”

“Is it hard working around such attractive dudes all the time?”

“Ever smoked weed? Does smoking disqualify you from being a fed?”

“You seem like the type to own a cat”

“Got a hot sister?”

Benny notices the last one makes you wince and he wonders why. Then he tells himself that it’s none of his business. But then he thinks of your tattoo and he can’t help but try to put the pieces together.

“Even if I did I wouldn’t tell you.”

“I wouldn’t know, all y’all are ugly.”

“No it doesn’t disqualify you.”

“That’s a weird statement.”

You swallow hard before you answer the last one.

“Doesn’t matter if I do, none of you are meeting her.”

Benny can see you’re uncomfortable and he doesn’t want the guys to latch on. So he takes the reins of the conversation, asking Big Nick about his latest divorce. Of course he launches into a huge speech about how it’s not his fault that he likes pussy so much and blah blah blah.

Benny shoots you a glance and notices you looking at him. You give him a small nod and raise your bottle in thanks.

At least, Benny thinks it’s in thanks.

********

MONTH 11

Month 11 earns you a nickname.

It’s another raid. Another head of the hydra that you’re looking for. You wear basically the same outfit, only this time the button down is army green instead of soft pink.

“You ready?” Magalon asks you, standing next to you and you wonder if he’s thinking of the last raid where you got shot. He’s wearing a long-sleeved black shirt with a grey LASD beanie over his hair. He hasn’t shaved in a few days and you see the strong salt-and-pepper there. It makes you twitch, low in your belly and wonder if he has-Jesus. A raid. You’re wearing a goddamned bulletproof vest and are getting ready to charge into a building where you might potentially get shot. Tamp that shit down.

“Yeah. I don’t think anyone is ever fully ready but I’m as ready as I can be,” you tell him, twisting your neck to look up at him.

“Try not to get shot this time,” he chuckles, looking at you. You nod, smiling as well and promising to do your best.

You get shot.

You actually get fucking shot.

It happens in a flash, one second the LAPD is declaring the room and by extension the building clear. The next second, you’re on the ground absolutely gasping for air.

“What the fuck?” Connors yells, pointing his gun that direction as Magalon covers your body with his own.

“You’re like a fucking magnet for bullets,” Magalon grumbles at you, grabbing you by the shoulder straps and moving to haul you out.

“Stop,” you gasp. “I’m fine, got the wind knocked out of me,” you tell him, pushing him off. The last thing you need is him getting shot in the back because he’s worried about you. “Get the suspect,” you tell him, pushing him off and finding cover behind a couple barrels off to your left. There’s a few more shots and a small shout of pain, hopefully from someone that isn’t on your side, before everything stops.

The barrels are moved out of the way and your gun flies up before you see who it is. Magalon. You never thought you’d be so happy to see him. “He’s cuffed. Connors shot him in the shoulder too but he’ll be fine. Unfortunately. Come on, you need a hospital,”

“No. No hospital. I’m fine,” you insist.

“Bullshit. Can you walk or do I need to carry you?”

“I’m fine. Seriously.”

“I guess I’m carrying you,” he says, handing his gun to Big Nick and moving to take off his own bulletproof vest.

“Damnit, I can walk,” you say, moving to stand.

“Good. Walk yourself to the ambulance so we can go to the hospital,” his jaw is set and you know that you’re going to end up at the hospital whether you like it or not.

“Fucking stubborn ass,” you snipe at him as you pass your own gun off to Connors.

“I’m going to get you a four leaf clover for luck, maybe then you’ll stop getting shot,” he shoots back and you can hear the frustration laced in his tone. As well as something else? Fear? Surely not.

“Ha!” Big Nick laughs and everyone turns to look at him. “That’s the perfect nickname for our fed. Clover,” and you groan because you know it’s going to stick. There’s no way it’s not going to stick. You don’t even get a chance to think about them calling you ‘our’ fed until you’re in the waiting room of the hospital.

—————————

“It’s two broken ribs and a nasty bruise,” says the ER doctor, sticking your x-rays up. “Desk duty for the next two months,” she tells you and you groan. Magalon hasn’t left your side yet, the others have, reports to write and debriefs to be held. “I’m going to give you some pain meds, I think the adrenaline hasn’t worn off yet and that’s the reason you aren’t feeling much pain.” You have been feeling pain but downplaying it in the hopes of fooling the doctor. Unfortunately for you, x-rays can’t fool a doctor. “I’m also going to insist that you take the next four days off, bed rest.”

She stares you down and you have no choice but to nod and agree. She turns to Magalon and says “as her partner, I fully expect you to keep her from over-exerting. And absolutely no sex until those ribs are healed,” she wags her finger at the two of you and you both splutter at the same time.

“We’re no-“

“It’s not like-“

The poor woman is confused and you can see why because Magalon introduced himself as your partner when they brought you back to the waiting room.

“I’m FBI,” you explain.

“I’m LA County Sheriffs Department. We’re partners on a case,” Magalon finishes the explanation.

“Ah, well. Regardless,” she points her fingers at you, “you’re on bed rest for four days.” She turns to Magalon, “I don’t know if you can make that happen but I expect you should try.” He nods and she moves to leave the room. “And I know you’re not being truthful about how much pain you’re in,” she points at you again and your face heats. Her finger swings to Magalon, “make sure she takes a pain medication. Take it with food. It’ll probably put you to sleep,” she warns before she heads out.

She must decide that either you aren’t going to take one or Magalon isn’t going to be able to convince you to take one because a nurse makes you take one before you’re allowed to leave.

“She’ll need another one in four hours,” she warns before she takes off. And of course, it takes almost 45 minutes to get out. Between filling the script and getting discharged, by the time you make it to the parking lot you’re a zombie. It’s been a long day and you’re sore, exhausted, and grouchy.

“I had the guys bring your car,” he tells you and you nod. “What’s your address? I need it to get you home,” he says. His voice is soft, like one you would use around a skittish dog as he helps you into the passenger seat but your tongue is thick and heavy and you can’t form words.

By the time Benny makes it back to the drivers seat, you’re asleep. Passed out against the center console and Benny can’t help but smile. You look so soft and peaceful and not at all like a woman who just got shot.

Benny decides to take you to his place since he doesn’t know how to get to yours. He bridal carries you up the stairs to his apartment and manages to get you inside without waking you. Benny settles you down in his bed, unsure of whether to leave your clothes the way they are or try to change you into something comfortable and decides to go with the latter.

He removes your shirt, hoping you’ve got a tank underneath it like last time and is relieved to find one. He slips one of his t shirts over your head, pulling it down across your body before reaching under to pull down the tank. He refuses to look at the tattoo, knowing it’ll kick his brain into overdrive if he does. When he removes the undershirt, Benny must brush against your bruise because you groan in pain but he manages to get it off without waking you. Remembering an old trick from a previous lifetime, he unsnaps your bra and pulls it out the arm holes of the shirt, tossing it with the tank. Jeans are last and he makes sure to keep the shirt pulled all the way down as he blindly unbuttons and strips you. Finally, he tucks you under the covers and grabs a pillow to take to the couch. He sets an alarm and passes the fuck out.

The thing that wakes you is the aching pain in your ribs. You groan, doing your best to sit up but god, they hurt so bad. Glancing around the room you expect to see your collection of plants and pink sheets, but are surprised by bare walls and black sheets.

“Where the fuck-“ you start but then Magalon appears in the doorway. It’s that moment that you realize you’ve been changed into clothes that aren’t yours and you narrow your eyes at him.

“I didn’t see anything. I closed my eyes,” he tells you, crossing the room. “I had to take you to my place because you fell asleep before you could give me your address,” he explains. He’s got a protein bar in one hand and a cup in the other and he hands the cup to you first. “It’s time for your next pain med,” he drops the little pill in your hand, “I know your ribs hurt,” he gives you a pointed look. Grimacing you take the pill and chase it with the water.

“Thank you,” you say when he hands you the protein bar. Scarfing it down, you glance up at him as he nods. “I’m sorry I fell asleep. God, you probably had to carry me inside, didn’t you?” Magalon chuckles and nods.

“I need to tell you that I’m not leaving your side until you can go back to work,” and you open your mouth to protest. “Nope. No arguments. I’m more than happy to take you back to your own place if that would make you more comfortable, but you are stuck with me,” he says and you can tell he isn’t going to argue with you about it and you don’t have the energy to try either.

“Fine. How did you get me changed without ‘seeing anything’?” You smile as he explains, careful not to laugh because you know that it’s going to hurt. “I need to shower. Do you think I’ve got enough time before this kicks in?”

“Not sure, but I think it might be safer to wait until you’ve rested a little more,” you can’t help but agree because as he leaves the bedroom again you feel the deep weight of exhaustion overtake you again and before you know it, you’re out.

—————————

The next time you wake, Benny is already there and waiting for you.

“No, I want to try to shower first,” shaking your head at him and trying to sit up. Goddamn, your ribs hurt. He gives you a hand and leads you to the bathroom.

“I’m sure I don’t have the right…anything. But feel free to use anything in my shower,” he says. “But leave the door unlocked just in case you need me. Do you want me to try to make you something to eat?” Your stomach gives an aggressive grumble at that exact moment and he laughs. “Fried egg sandwich? Coffee?” Nodding at both he takes off to his kitchen. Heading into the bathroom, you flip on the lights and take a look at yourself in the mirror. You look like absolute shit. Red eyes, dark circles, your hair is a mess and a half. You haven’t washed your face recently and you know that the shower is going to dry your skin out. Of course Magalon doesn’t have any body lotion either.

Stripping off the tshirt, one of Magalon’s no doubt, you inspect the large bruise on your right side. It takes up almost your entire ribcage, stretching from under your breasts to almost touching your hipbone and it’s a nasty deep purple. It’ll only worsen over the next couple days too, turning brown to green to yellow. When you turn on the shower, you realize you don’t have a clean towel.

“Magalon?” You call out and hear his answering response. “I don’t have a towel, can you bring me one?” There’s silence, then he calls back that he’ll do it in just a second. Locating a brush, you step into the shower and groan at the hot water on your skin. Magalon has a nice shower, a cool grey tile with glass doors. And he has several body washes to choose from. And an actual shampoo and conditioner, not a 4-in-1 combo. You wash your hair with one hand because it hurts to raise the other and skip washing your feet cause you can’t bend over to reach them, but damn do you feel better.

The towel and a pair of sweats is right outside the bathroom door when you get out. You try to rip a brush through your hair, but the exertion makes your ribs hurt too much. So instead, you dress and head to the kitchen. Magalon is in there, plating a sandwich and setting it next to a cup of coffee. Your damn ribs are absolutely aching but right now? You’re more hungry than you are anything else.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“I know. But you’re my partner and I’ve got your back.” Swoon. No-wait. No swoon. Swooning is bad.

“Can I ask you for a small favor?” He nods and you hold out the brush. “It hurts too much to try and brush it.” He takes the brush and looks at it a little funny before he moves to stand behind you. He’s so gentle with it, afraid to put any tension on your head and hurt you. He gets through it as you sip on the coffee, (black, gross) and it doesn’t take him much time and you feel so much better when he’s done.

“Do you want to take your pill now or after you eat?” You opt for now and he hands it to you with a cup of water. “Still tired? Did showering hurt? Do you need to nap?”

“A little but not like I was. No, I feel a lot better being clean. I guess we’ll have to see.”

“Do you want to head back to yours or stay here for now?”

“I’d like to go back to my place, but maybe food first,” Magalon nods and you suppose you should be calling him Benny now. “Clover is gonna stick, isn’t it?” He looses a chuckle and grabs his phone, pulling up a text thread.

Big Nick: How’s Clover?

Benny: Fine. She’s resting. Pain pills took her out.

A couple hours later.

Z: Clover still out?

Benny: Ya. Long day for her. She’s at mine.

Big Nick: Damn Borracho, how did you get that to happen?

Z: OooOOooooHHhhhhh

Connors: Apparently only drugged women go home with you.

Henderson: Y’all are obnoxious

Benny: Fell asleep before I could get her address.

A couple hours later.

Connors: Clover good? Still out?

Benny: Ya. And ya.

Henderson: You know Borracho, my favorite thing about you is how conversational you are.

You snort a laugh and immediately regret it, grabbing at your ribs.

“Are they always like that?”

“As long as I’ve known them. They’ve taken to you though, more than any other person we’ve worked with. Man or woman.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“They’re used to other departments being straight-laced and talking shit about us. You haven’t done that. You call the guys out when they need it and let shit slide that doesn’t. They respect that,” he says, shrugging.

“Is that what happened with the other female agents that worked with you guys?” And he nods.

“By now you know how they are and if they think they’ve found something that’ll bother you, they dig in. And they don’t know when to quit.”

Nodding you ask, “is that how you got the nickname Borracho?” It’s a far cry from how you made fun of his nickname all those months ago. He sighs heavily and you know it’s a story that irritates him a little.

“One time, back when it was Big Nick, Henderson and me, we had a work event. It was fancy and an open bar, so I naturally got shit-faced. Nick and his first wife had to help me out and make sure I didn’t vomit all over myself. Nick started calling me Borracho and I never got rid of it, especially once they realized I hate it.” Your sandwich is gone by now and you move to go put the plate in the sink but Benny stops you. He takes the plate and puts it in the dishwasher before coming to sit next to you again.

“That’s a horrible way to get a nickname,” you smile at him and he smiles back.

“Tell me about it.” A pause. “Getting shot is a much cooler way to get a nickname,” and you shoot him a small glare. “Do you want to try and nap again or are you alright?” Between the shower and the conversation, you’re exhausted again so you opt for another nap. “While you sleep I’m gonna run to the office and grab some files so I can get some work done while I’m out,” he tells you and you nod, drifting back down the hallway to his room. Pulling back the sheets and sliding in, you don’t even hear the front door shut before you’re asleep again.

—————————

You’ve forgotten how much you hate being on bed rest. It’s been years since you last were but good god it is awful. At least there’s company. Once Benny got back from the office with a box in the SUV and some get-wells from the boys, you’d finally felt rested. You got Benny to take you back to your own apartment and he chuckles when he walks in.

“This is the girliest place I’ve ever been in.”

“Leave my decoration choices alone,” but he’s not wrong. Everything is soft and feminine, a grey couch with pink and grey pillows. A baby pink sheets and comforter set and plants everywhere. “Thanks. Seriously. I appreciate you staying with me to make sure I’m okay.”

“No coffee machine?” He asks in lieu of a response.

“I only get coffee from that one place,” you remind him. “It’s easier and it tastes better than drip coffee from a pot.” He laughs and says whatever before he sets the files on your counter.

“Two more days, then you can go back to work,” he reminds you and you stick your tongue out at him when his back is turned. Your ribs still ache but you can at least take a pain pill and not pass out within 20 minutes, so that’s an improvement. “Do you want to sift through these files with me?” He asks and you groan. You don’t, you’re too foggy. “Okay okay, we don’t have to,” he chuckles and turns to you. “What do you feel like doing?”

Truth be told, you want to watch a show. Your favorite romantic show just released a new season last week and you want to get caught up. But it’s steamy and not a show to be watched with a coworker so you say, “is there a game on?” Benny quirks a brow at you and you sigh. You like sports but you just aren’t in the mood for them.

“What do you actually want to watch?” When you give him the name of the show he belly laughs and says “let’s watch it. Cmon. I want to see what it’s like.”

Two hours and several spicy scenes later, Benny is deeply invested in this show. He keeps asking questions and insisting things don’t make sense, but that’s only because he hasn’t seen the first couple seasons. If it didn’t hurt so much to laugh, you would be in absolute tears by now because who knew that Detective Magalon from the LASD would be into regency romances?

“Who is that man?”

“They’re in the garden alone. Don’t they have to get married now?”

“He touched her tit, they definitely have to get married now.

“Who is this entire family?”

Finally you get tired of answering his questions and suggest that you start the whole series over, so he can be caught up. He gives you a side eye, but you ignore it, starting from Season 1 Episode 1 and let it play. The two of you get through the first four episodes before it’s time for another pain med, you’re trying to stretch out the time you need them so you can wean. After you take it you curl into the couch, Benny at one end and you at the other. It doesn’t take long for this one to knock you out and eventually you’re stretched out, your head in Benny’s lap as he finishes the season by himself.

He picks you up as gently as he can, walking you down the hall to settle you into your own bed. He takes the time to examine the pictures hung up in the hallway when he heads back to the couch. He notices a girl in your pictures, one so similar in a way that’s more than just a sibling. You both look about the same age and share the exact same smile, often the both of you holding matching Winnie the Pooh plushies. The pictures of the two of you stop when you reach late teens, Benny guesses somewhere between 17-19. It’s just you now, you and your parents, you and another sibling, a brother. Benny starts taking the pieces and putting them together. A memorial tattoo, a refusal to talk about your family. A decided sensitive spot about your sister, or lack of? Benny doesn’t want to make assumptions, he knows what they say about assuming. But he’s a cop, a long time cop, and he knows how to make an educated guess.

You wake in your own bed, surrounded by your fluffy pink comforter and a deep ache in your ribs. It’s not time for more pain meds, so you decide to ice them down instead. Sneaking past a sleeping Benny and you take the time to study his profile. Strong nose and jaw, salt and pepper in his beard, eyes that have a capability to be soft. He really is an attractive man, if you were being honest with yourself, which you try not to be. He looks so peaceful when he’s sleeping, so much different without the deep furrow between his eyebrows. You try to be as quiet as possible as you make a bag of ice, but it doesn’t take him long to follow you into the kitchen.

“In pain?” He asks, leaning up against the counter. His beefy arms cross his chest and you have to avert your eyes quickly.

“Yeah. The sharp pains are gone but the aching pains won’t budge.” He nods before glancing at the clock.

“It’s early,” you glance at the clock yourself and notice it’s only 6 am. Old habits die hard. “Want to get out of the apartment for a while? We can go grab breakfast?” He offers. “Does that coffee shop you like serve a full breakfast?”

“Actually it does. I’ve never eaten breakfast there before though.”

“Are you willing to try it?”

“Anything to get out for a bit. Just let me finish icing my ribs first. It should take about 30 minutes. Do you need to go home and shower?”

Benny shakes his head, “nah, I took one in the guest room while you were sleeping. Want to watch your show while we wait?” Obviously the answer is yes and you can’t stop watching mid-episode so it’s after 7 by the time you leave the house. Benny orders literally only a cup of coffee and you side eye him a you order blueberry pancakes, bacon, and hashbrowns with a French vanilla cappuccino.

“Aren’t you gonna eat?” He shakes his head at you.

“Nah, not much of a breakfast eater,” he says, taking a deep drink.

“Breakfast is the best meal of the day,” and it sends the two of you into an argument about which meal actually is the best meal. (Benny says they’re all the same, which leads you to believe he doesn’t eat much outside of work.)

This silly argument lasts nearly the entire time you wait for food and when it does arrive, you dig in. You’re so hungry that you almost don’t notice that Benny steals a piece of bacon off your plate. “Hey! Get your own food!” You cry, moving to stab him with your fork, but he manages to dodge. He laughs, a full belly laugh, and the sound is delicious. “You should’ve ordered something,” you warn, covering your food with your arms. “I don’t share food.”

He laughs again and flags down the waitress, ordering a side of bacon and some toast. You glare at him until it arrives, and the waitress chuckles as she fills his coffee. “I don’t share food with my boyfriend either,” and before you can argue that Benito Magalon is NOT your boyfriend, she’s gone.

————————-

Benny stays with you the next day and a half, until Monday and you’re allowed to return back to work. He offers to drive you but you refuse, telling him you go in much earlier than he does. “I can stay on your couch again. I’ll wake up when you wake up,” he says and you finally relent. So the next morning, at 6:30 you head into the kitchen, only to find Benny showered and holding coffee. “Hey. I grabbed coffee,” he lifts said coffee. “Want me to drive your car?”

It’s so bright in the office, much more bright than the low lights of your home, and it makes you wince.

“Clover!” Comes the cry from your office mates as they see you. You can’t help but smile and then it widens when you see what’s on your desk. A tiny pot with something green in it, which upon further inspection turns out to be…..clover.

“You guys have to be fucking kidding me,” you laugh, gently so not to upset your ribs. There’s a loud ruckus of laughter from them, as if it’s the funniest practical joke they’ve ever pulled. “You know this won’t live, right?” Examining it, you notice that it looks like they literally dug it up from the front lawn and stuck it in a pot. “It needs a lot more light than it’s gonna get sitting on my desk,” you explain before thanking them for doing something so thoughtful.

Big Nick steps out of his office to welcome you back, reaching over to slap a hand on your shoulder. You brace, waiting for the impact to jar your ribs but a sharp ‘don’t’ from Benny stops the hand before it connects. “Those ribs are still broke, Nick,” he says, barely lifting his eyes from his files to acknowledge Nick. Nick grunts, turns, tells you how good it is for you to be back, then disappears.

Lifting your eyes, you notice the same stunned expression on everyone else’s face and exchange of glances with one another. And glances with you.

That Monday is one of the longest of your career. you barely get anything done and all you want to do is go home and rest, but you can’t. It’s nearly midday when your patience snaps because Henderson looks at you funny when you grunt in pain.

“Got something to say, Henderson?” You snap and he gives you a wide, nervous glance before his eyes snap to Benny. “No. Don’t look at him, look at me. Do you have something to say?” Benny, you see him out of the corner of your eye, checks his watch and then pulls his phone out.

You’re so annoyed because you know they’re texting their little group chat. And you know they’re texting about you. Especially when four phones go off at the same time, more than once.

Borracho: it’s her first day off pain meds. Cut her some slack.

Nick: been there.

Henderson: same.

Z: does she need anything?

Borracho: food. And a coffee.

Z: what does she like?

Borracho: get her General Tso’s and house fried rice. And a caramel macchiato.

Z nods, getting up from his chair and heading out the door.

“Y’all texting about me?” You snap, eyes sharp as they bore holes in Benny’s head. He gives you this soft, pitying look that absolutely makes you rage and stand up suddenly before you double over in pain. Stupid fucking ribs. Stupid fucking perp that shot you. Stupid fucking pain meds. Wait-pain meds. Oh goddamnit. That’s why you’re so grouchy, you haven’t had any today and you’re sore and shaky.

“Are you alright?” Benny asks, standing. You wave him off, heading to the back of the bullpen where there aren’t any eyes and take a couple deep breaths. After four days of basically living together, you recognize the sound of Benny’s feet as they come up behind you. “Hurtin’?” He asks and you nod your head. “Want to head home?” You shake your head, but you really like the way he uses home like it’s somewhere the both of you are going.

“Nah, I just need a little bit of food and probably some coffee,” and you’re confused when Benny smiles.

“That’s where Z went. He’s grabbing Chinese and a caramel macchiato.” And you know that it was 100% Benny’s idea.

“Thanks Ben,” you smile at him, placing a soft hand on his forearm. There’s a moment there, in the back of the bullpen, between the two of you. You’ve been toeing that line all weekend, really for the last two months and this might be the turning point in your relationship. Benny feels safe. Benny feels like comfort. Someone you can trust. Someone you can count on.

Which is amazing to you because it’s such a far cry from where you started, nearly a year ago. Which makes you think, then makes you apologize.

“I’m sorry for how I acted when I first got here.”

“It’s fine. I think you had the right to be, these guys are a tough nut to crack,” he says, gesturing to the bullpen behind them. “They don’t take very well to others, especially fed. The ones we usually deal with are snarky and uptight. They make fun of us or judge us.” You understand, really you do. It makes sense, how defensive they are and how they treat new people. “Are you sure that you don’t want to head home? I can work from there,” he offers and it makes your chest tight. But his phone dings and it’s Z, letting him know that he’s back and that makes your chest tight again. These men care about you, your physical and mental well-being, and they want to make sure you’re okay. So, you shake your head at Benny and head back to your desk, lobbing an apology to everyone for your behavior, and sit down. Grabbing a file, you start to flip through it, but before you even have a chance to look at it, a bag and a coffee are set in front of you. You glance up and smile at Z, thanking him and apologizing to him in the same breath. He waves you off and sits down, but you can’t quite let it go.

“Z, what’s your cashapp. Or your Venmo? Let me pay for this, you didn’t have to go get it for me,” you tell him but he waves you off again.

“Nahh, Borracho already paid for it. Don’t worry about it,” and when you look at Benny, he refuses to look at you.

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

Month 12

Month 12, you’re added into the group chat. Your phone buzzes one morning with one text from Big Nick and you notice that there’s a bunch of numbers there that you don’t recognize. Benny’s you do, but no one else. After about a week he stopped sleeping on your couch but he still gets to the office early and the two of you spend your mornings in companionable silence, sharing breakfast.

Big Nick: Anyone up for grabbing donuts this morning?

Big Nick: Also, drop your names so Clover knows who’s who.

Clover: Isn’t being a bunch of donut loving cops a little cliche?

Big Nick: Rude. No donuts for you.

You laugh a little out loud, noticing the ache in your ribs has almost completely disappeared, nearly two months after you got shot. You know Nick well enough now to know that he’s joking and he’s not being the rude, brash, asshole you initially thought that he was.

Zapata: It’s Z. Can’t this morning, gonna do a witness call.

Connors: This is Connors. I’m already at a crime scene, so I can’t. Save me some though!

Henderson: This is Henderson. I’m gonna be late as it is, I don’t have time.

Benny: Borracho can grab some from the usual place.

Clover: Don’t get any jelly filled ones, they’re the worst.

Zapata: Uh oh.

Clover: What?

Connors: NO JELLY FILLED? THAT’S UN-AMERICAN. I’M GOING BACK TO THE OTHER GROUP CHAT.

You laugh out loud again, the idea of Connors taking jelly-filled donuts so seriously honestly tracks for who he is as a person.

Clover: I’m sorry! Get all the jelly filled that you want, but get me long chocolate donut. No jelly, please.

Connors: Borracho, get a dozen jelly-filled just to spite Clover.

Clover: Awe, Connors. You’re hurting my feelings.

Big Nick: It’s too early to be reading this many messages.

Clover: You texted us first.

Benny: Chill or I won’t get donuts.

Henderson: You started the group chat.

Connors: You text first?!

Zapata: Speaking of, what should I name the chat?

Big Nick: Why does the group chat need a name?

Zapata: Our other chat is called The Regulators. We need to name this one too.

Connors: How about the FEDulators? It sounds the same!!

Clover: That’s the worst name I’ve ever heard, Connors.

Clover: How about Clover and the Four Leaf’s?

Zapata: OoOoOoOhHhHhH!!!!! I like that!!!!

Zapata changed the group name to 🍀Clover and the Four Leaf’s 🍀

Big Nick: Y’all are fuckin’ idiots.

You’re already in the office and lift your head at the sound of someone coming into the bullpen. It’s Benny, carrying two dozen donuts. He smiles at you and it makes something go slippery in your chest and Jesus you’re an adult.

“Welcome to the group chat. It’s hell here,” he laughs, holding out an open box for you to grab one. The two of you sit in silence, eating donuts and sharing files.

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