To Paris and Back
THE MUSKETEERS X GN! READER WORDS: 2.3K SUMMARY: Cornered by two men in the dark streets of Paris, attempting to fight them off only to be saved by three familiar faces of the men you ran with all across Europe years ago. WARNINGS/TAGS: Dark Alley, Kidnapped, Fighting off Men, Reader Cornered, Murder, Reunion, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Smut, Hand Jobs, Oral Sex A/N: This one is for the very lovely @jess2026 I hope I made them just as charming as they are in the movie!
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
Walking the dimly lit street, counting each stone illuminated by those who left lanterns burning in their windows, hearing every step you take echo through the hushed Paris night. Sobering up by the minute, having left the bar down the road a little tipsy, needing the edge of your day taken off.
Hugging yourself, attempting to fight off the early winter weather, leaving the skin of your cheeks and nose to be nipped by the cold and the smell of the unclean back alleys. Turning into one, the smell making its way from your nostrils to the dry palate of your tongue. Cringing at the phantom taste, covering your nose with a gloved hand, helping only a little.
Hurrying your pace, ears overwhelmed by the thumps of your walk, unable to hear the drunken cheers coming from ahead. Only once, seeing motion underneath a street light candle, could you see the two men, beer bottles in hand, finishing their laughter with a glance toward you.
"Hello, there," one says, sitting up while the other remains seated. "Beautiful night, isn't it?" he asks, at which you don't answer, too frozen in your feet.
Mind turning on what to do, allowing only for you to take one step back, eyes unwavering from the closer man. Witnessing his shoulders drop, frowning, looking back to the other man, who gives him a chuckle. Looking back at you, seeing as he changes back to a more chipper attitude.
"No need to be afraid, look, I'll help you through. Promise me and my mate don't bite," he says, holding out a hand, smiling. Attention flickering to the other man, seeing him sit up, smirking, taking one last swig of his beer before setting it down.
"No, thank you," you manage to speak, quickly stepping, rushing around and past the man, only to be caught by his friend.
Hand ripping your forearm away from your body, tugging you close, wrapping you in his tight hold. Thrashing, back pinned to the man's chest, forcing the thick scent of beer and bad breath upon your nose, causing the alarm in your mind to grow louder.
"Aww, mate, you shouldn't have," the man before praises, walking back over, smile twisting into a sick grin.
"Let me go!" you shout, making the two laugh. Panic rises in your throat as the man stops in front of you, standing far enough from your kicking legs.
"Hard to believe this gem had just been walking all alone," he says, words not meant for you, but the man whose hot breath lands disgustingly upon the surface of your neck. Hearing the man hum in agreement, bringing the standing man in.
"Fuck off!" you shout, kicking the man, only for him to catch both of your fumbling feet. "Let me go!" you yell again, to no avail.
Struggling against the man's hold as he approaches, face inches from yours, breath just as unbearable. Groaning with every attempt to push out of both men's holds, turning more and more into straining wails for freedom, tears burning in your eyes. Looking into the man's eyes, rage burning a curse into him and his smirk that quickly fades, watching as his eyes weaken, collapsing limply onto your shoulder.
Face wet with a warm splat, feeling your other captor wiggle out from behind you, only to meet the same fate, hearing the man gargle. Neck covered in the unmistakable liquid of blood, nose burning with the thick scent of warm iron, oddly bringing back nostalgic memories.
Looking up at your saviour, seeing more than one. Three, all too familiar faces, causing the tears in your eyes to continue to flow. Shoulders relaxing at the faces of your dear friends from long ago, pushing the body still slumped onto yours, hearing as he falls, allowing you to stumble into one of their arms.
"D'artagnan," you whimper, feeling his arms reciprocate, holding you tightly. Softly shushing your cries, a gloved hand cupping the side of your face, shielding you from the view.
"You're safe now, Athos and Aramis will move their bodies," he comforts, informing you of the aftermath. Moving with him down the street, head pressed to his chest, inhaling D'artagnan's much more comforting scent, drowning in it rather than the emotions rattling within your nerves.
Stumbling over a few protruding stones, causing D'artagnan to catch you, holding you even tighter until stopping. Relaxing his hold, hand leaving your face, seeing the dark steed in front of you. Holding out a hand, you take, gripping the saddle, body remembering the motions before your mind does.
Sitting atop the leather, not needing to hold out a hand for D'artagnan, lifting himself before you could look to him. Settling behind you, chest pressing into your back to grab the reins, glancing toward the crime scene, seeing Aramis look toward your direction as the horses' hooves clack against stone.
Riding off, leaving two men and two horses behind, melting into D'artagnan's chest, inciting a fury of memories to play behind your eyelids. Having once lain together, clothes long forgotten upon the floor, bodies shared until the dawn rose. Head resting atop his bare chest, gazing wonderfully into each other's eyes, quietly whispering sweet nothings, hoping Athos wouldn't yet come up announcing breakfast.
One hand leaving the rein, arm again, wrapping around you. Smiling at the sensation of his nose touching the crown of your scalp, inhaling, remembering you just the same.
Eyes opening as the horse slows to a stop, scanning the dark street, finding nothing in particular. Getting down before you, helping once again, hand grabbing your hips until the floor meets each foot. Leaving only one hand, feeling it travel to your lower back, guiding you toward a door tucked away in the shadows.
Stopping in front, looking around as D'artagnan unlocks the door, hearing as it clicks. Quickly pulling you with him, closing the door by pushing you against it. Hovering over, face inches from one another, lips tingling with familiarity. Staring into his blue eyes, dimly lit by an oil lamp he forgot to snuff out.
"I've missed you dearly," he confesses, brows lightly furrowing, weakening your fragile state of mind further.
"And I you," you whisper back, reaching out to the man's collar, tugging him forward.
Lips meeting, humming delightfully in the kiss, hands flying up, cupping each other's faces. Finger threading through his soft hair, passion burning within you, skin flushing warm, mind too clouded to feel the push against your back. Only when hearing three knocks does nirvana no longer exist, kiss breaking, cold nipping at your wet lips.
Moving away from the wooden door, watching as it opens, Athos and Aramis greet you with shy smiles. Caught by the rest of your boys, laughing off the light embarrassment, flinging your arms around both of them.
"How I've missed all of you," you say, feeling them hug you just as tightly, muttering their longing back. Pulling away, both hands cupping their cheeks, smiling lovingly at one another. "Why hadn't you told me you were back in Paris?" you ask, causing Athos to melt and Aramis' smile to grow.
"We just arrived in the city today," Athos answers, at which you nod understandingly, hands moving to the flats of your chests.
"Before the sun fully set," Aramis clarifies, holding your extended arm, thumb softly caressing the side of its clothed surface. "How are you feeling? Any injuries?" Aramis asks, moving closer, scanning your face and body.
"No, I'm alright, just startled is all," you reply, still allowing the man to look over you, doing the same.
Noticing not one uniform in sight, beginning to miss the feathery hats and worn coats you'd many times patched or scrubbed the blood out of.
"Your uniform. I'm mistaken. Are you not back together?" you ask, causing the three men to look toward each other, only for D'artagnan to answer.
"No, all of our lives have grown too far from the past," he states, just as your eyes fall onto Aramis' priest collar.
"I see," you breathe, looking away from the white collar.
"I'll make some tea," Athos says, moving across the room, disappearing behind a wall.
Hand still in Aramis' hold, allowing him to lead you to the couch, had D'artagnan already sat himself on. Looking to him as Aramis moves to the fireplace, quickly lighting it, then sitting next to you. Resting both of your hands atop their knees, feeling D'artagnan relax while the other man tenses, smiling to yourself, knowing nothing has changed.
Leaning toward Aramis, head resting upon his shoulder, hearing the man's breath shudder. Gradually melting in your touch, even as your head turns, planting a kiss onto his jaw. Gazing up at the man, seeing as he steals a glance into your eyes, quickly looking away, caught.
Grinning as he takes a deep breath, no doubt silently praying to whatever god he worships for mercy. Feeling a hand rest upon your thigh, disrupting your torment of the priest, looking to D'artagnan, who also smiles, waiting for him to say the words, but he stays quiet. Moving off Aramis, leaning toward the other man, head resting against his chest.
"You keep going like that, Aramis will run out of prayers to save his soul," he says, making you laugh.
"Then he'll have to start praying to me," you whisper, close to the man's ear, sending his head back, eyes glancing toward him, checking if he had heard.
"You haven't changed one bit," he whispers, eyes finding their way back to you. Not allowing a second more to go by between you, kissing the smirk on his lips, only to again be pulled apart by a sound.
Turning to see Athos, setting a teacup upon the coffee table, eyes and mouth in awe. Offering a hand to one of your most passionate lovers, satisfied at the eagerness he takes it with, not needing to be tugged along. Stepping around the low table, stopping in front, quickly lifting your hand to his lips, planting a soft trail of kisses up your arm, eyes never leaving you.
Finally reaching your lips, hand letting go, allowing both of Athos' hands to fly to your cheeks, cupping them as his kiss grows hungrier. Moans slipping from your throat, driving the man's body, leaning in, knee resting between your legs.
Kisses trail once again, head tilting to the side, granting them access to their old territory. Finding another set of lips to love, soaking in D'artagnan and Athos' unchanging desire, as if picking up the last time you all were in Paris together.
Feeling as Athos' hands travel down your body, squeezing at each inch before kneeling, lips leaving your neck, making D'artagnan take his place. Head turning to watch Athos between your legs, quickly working at the hem of your clothing, helping by lifting your hips, allowing the man to slide off every piece of clothing below them.
Diving in, looking at the sight of his face, though gaining the bursting bloom of pleasure coursing through your veins. Moans sing from your lips again, prompting a groan to sound from your right, looking to Aramis, finding the man in utter shambles. Eyes unable to look away from Athos, reading the wish in his eyes, wanting to be him, softly eating at you.
Reaching out to the yearning man, cupping his chin, leading his lips to yours. Kissing the priest gently, knowing your hand won't give him the same treatment, snaking to the hem of his pants. Teasing at their work, slipping underneath, causing him to moan delectably against your mouth.
Hand wrapping around his hardening cock, earning a gasp, pulling air from your mouth. Stroking up its length, stopping at the head, pulling it from the confines of his pants. Shivering at the freedom, gazing into your eyes, melting in your divine touch.
Looking away, head rolling along the back couch cushion, seeing D'artagnan utterly starved, envious of the other men's pleasure. Quelling his big emotions, palming the hard lump of his clothed cock. Hissing at your quick movement, pulling his cock in the open, churning as your stroke upward, just how he liked.
All three of your heads tilt back, gasps, moans, and groaning pleas fill the warm air around you. Pleasure causing numbness to wash throughout your legs as Athos' finger finds your wet insides, tongue and mouth working to pull your soul out.
Body clueless on what to do, legs attempting to close, stopped by Athos' head. Restlessness powering your hands to stroke the two cocks faster, hearing D'artagnan cursing your name while Aramis mutters an illegible prayer.
Eyes unable to keep open as your jaw melts, allowing your vocal cords to sing a beautiful melody of moans, your boys following seconds later. Heat bursting up your body, heart pumping, head digging into the couch's cushion, gasping Athos, D'artagnan, and Aramis' names in different breaths.
Riding out your climax onto Athos' fingers and perfectly working mouth as the other two fuck your unmoving hand, whimpering your name. Slowly coming back as the white spots within your vision dissipate, head rising to the view of D'artagnan's and Athos' cum covering both of your hands.
Squeezing, giving their length one last stroke before leaving their twitching cocks, hearing them gasp, then letting out a sigh. Licking your dry lips, whining as Athos parts with the sensitive space between your legs. Staring at the man, who too licks his lips, tasting something much different.
All of the mess and audible breaths bring you back to the many years running with the three, loving, fucking, and fighting through Europe, but somehow always ending up back in Paris. Knowing even as they left your side, the three would always love you to Paris and back.
Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!
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