sunnysidekit

[sunnysidekit]

Summary: The road to loving Frankie Morales is tough, but you’d do it all again if you had to. And again, and again, and again…

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales x F!Reader (no y/n)

Warnings: Language, major character death but not the permanent kind, (this is literally just a series of au’s in which the reader becomes kind of self-aware), nondescriptive smut (minors, please skip this one!).

Word count: 2.6k

A/N at the end

My masterlist

“Hey,” Frankie shouts, his voice only just carrying over the heavy rain. “Hey, wait up!”

You glance back at him over your shoulder, but you don’t stop running. You can’t stop running. Not after what just happened. Why did you decide to tell him how you felt about him, again? Worst decision of your life.

“Hey!” Frankie shouts again, even louder this time. He’s quickly gaining on you; blame that on his Delta training. You keep running, looking left and right for a spot between the old buildings to shelter from the rain. Something just big enough for one person to hide from their best friend would be great, but you doubt you’ll find a spot like that.

Just when you spot an alcove the size of a small closet you step into a puddle that’s way deeper than it looks, and you smack against the pavement.

You hear Frankie curse from behind you, the splashing of his boots in the puddles getting louder and louder until he stops right next to you and crouches down to help you up. You let out a painful groan when he lifts you off the ground, your arms flailing around unwittingly until you manage to grasp onto his soaked flannel.

“Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not, Frankie,” you say with a sniffle. “Look, I know that just because I feel a certain way, you don’t have to… Why are you laughing?”

“I’m sorry,” Frankie grins. “But you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear those words! I’d given up all hope you’d ever say them, so,” he shifts to hold you closer to his chest, “I was a bit shocked, is all.”

You blink up at him dumbfounded as lightning flashes behind him, bathing the two of you in a heavenly light for just a moment. Before you realize what you’re doing, you grab his face and crash your lips into his with a passion you never knew you were capable of. He hums against your lips and you smile; this kiss is better than whatever you imagined it could be.

The rain washes over you and makes goosebumps pop up all over your skin, though that could also be from the intensity with which Frankie kisses you. His nose bumps against yours as he deepens it and something starts to blossom up in your belly, a tingling spreading from your sides all the way to your fingertips. After what feels like an eternity, he lets you go, the both of you breathing hard and haggard.

“Holy shit,” Frankie chuckles. “We’re both incredibly stupid, aren’t we?”

“Speak for yourself. I’d do it all again if this is what I get for it.”

Frankie laughs breathlessly and you can’t help but join him. All the anxiety in your body has transformed into exhilaration; you throw your head back and let the raindrops splatter onto your face freely when suddenly another flash of lightning strikes, this time so close you can almost feel it burn your skin. Hey, wait… why doesn’t it stop?

The burning sensation digs deeper into your skin and you snap your head back to look at Frankie, but he’s still laughing. You try to reach out and grab his shoulder, but something’s wrong with your hand. It’s- it’s shredding, your fingers flaking off and burning up in the air as you yell out, horrified at the sight.

Frankie doesn’t notice it when you feel yourself losing weight and floating upward, memories flurrying around you in the ash you’re slowly becoming. He doesn’t notice it when you get sucked higher and higher into the air, screaming his name and pleading him to help you. He doesn’t even notice it when you gasp in one last breath before the stinging headache you’ve developed in the last few seconds overwhelms you completely and you feel your consciousness slipping away.

You jerk awake. Holy stars, that wasn’t a normal nightmare. Where in Newton’s name did that even come from? Rain? It never rains here on the SS Endeavour, you’re in space. All the rain you’ve ever seen has all been via holovids. It did feel oddly realistic, though. Kind of like déjà vu. You stretch out your arms above your head and yawn; maybe you did drink a bit too much last night.

But that kiss… why would you ever kiss officer Morales? Sure, you’re friends. You’re his copilot, for Newton’s sake. But he’s far too mission oriented to even consider romantic relationships. At least, that’s what he says. You’d agree with him, if only he wasn’t obviously lying.

“Stars, would you hurry up already?”

You jump out of your bunk at the sound of Ava’s voice and start changing into your overalls, but it’s no use-- she’s already seen you.

“I don’t want to have to skip breakfast again because you can’t be bothered to get up when the alarm goes off.”

“Oh, stop worrying about your breakfast. I’m sure you still have some extra bread rolls in your secret hiding spot.”

“I will neither confirm nor deny that claim,” Ava says, but she’s got a twinkle in her eye. She’s such a bad lair. You step into your shoes, the soft hiss of the self-tying mechanism a nice reassurance of the fact that you’re not dreaming anymore.

“When commander Penn finds out you’ve been using his second wall safe to hide food, you’re getting an instant demotion,” you say. “You do know that, right?”

“It’s so sweet you still think that’s where I hide my stuff. Anyway, I really hope you’ve already picked up your new badge.”

You look up at her from where you’re sitting on the bottom bunk. “…Oh, shit.”

“Really? What kind of gas giant-”

“Don’t start calling me names you’ll regret, Ava,” you grumble as you scramble up and run out of the sleeping pod. This day really is off to an amazing start.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Fish greets you when you climb into the cockpit of your jet with a scowl. “We’ve got zone E today.”

You fasten your seatbelt and heave a sigh. “Yay for us.”

“I thought you liked the asteroid belt.”

“I do, I just…” You chew on your lip as you busy yourself with the control panel. “I had a weird dream, is all. Let’s get going, Fish.”

Because nothing kills a conversation quicker than telling someone about the strange dream you had last night. Now that you think about it, there was something else wrong with it: the stars. They were all in different places, made different constellations…

Usually something like that doesn’t dance around in your head for very long after you wake up, but this somehow keeps popping up whenever you try to navigate manually. It’s like your memories have been copied, but the copy has a whole lot of mistakes. Like there’s been a very, very bad data overhaul.

And then there’s Fish. Despite his casual, relaxed attitude he’s tapping his fingertips against the controls at a rapid pace. It’s a small detail, one you’ve noticed a hundred times before, but it’s taking on a different meaning in your head. You remember him doing it in the dream, too, right after you told him you loved him. Could that maybe-

“Hey!” Fish snaps his fingers in front of you, and everything around you comes back into focus. You’re floating in zone E, engine off, and there’s a bright red jet peeking out from behind a particularly large asteroid.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath. “What’re they doing here? This isn’t Galactican territory.”

“Ambush, maybe?”

“I doubt it. If they were planning an ambush, they wouldn’t pick a fucking asteroid belt. Lord knows those new engines of theirs are about as stable as a peach in a blender.”

“Whatever they’re doing here, I don’t trust it,” Fish says with a frown. You sigh.

“Maybe they haven’t seen us yet. D’you think we can we get out of here in time?”

He shakes his head. “Can’t risk leading them right back to the Endeavour.”

“You… you haven’t radioed this in yet, right?”

“No.���

You lean forward to get a better look of your surroundings - seems you’ve been daydreaming for quite some time - only to see a whole lot of asteroids. “Well, it is just one of them, and it doesn’t look like the engine’s on.”

“It’s not broken,” Fish mutters. “At least, I don’t think.”

“Then what do you suggest we do? If we radio this in and someone’s in there, they can easily trace any signals the Endeavour sends out. If we open fire, we’ll have started a war-- and we really don’t need another one of those.”

“It’s taking too long.”

“Excuse me?”

“Not you,” he says absentmindedly, pointing at the blue spacecraft. “That. It’s moving too slow. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the brakes are on.”

You grab the lens from the wall beside you and take another look. Fish’s right: if the engine’s off, it should be floating around freely, not hanging still. As you stare at it, though, it does seem to move a little bit. No, it glitches. Your breath hitches in your throat. “Holy fuck.”

“Hm?” Fish hums, turning to you. You push the lens in front of his face, and he looks through it as well. No five seconds later, he’s grabbed the controls and started the engine. “We need to get out of here, right now.”

You grab the radio, but Fish snatches it from your hands and throws it across the cockpit. “We’re not gonna radio this in.”

“Are you insane?”

“What do you think base is going to do when they hear tell of a glitching Galactica spacecraft in the last productive tantalum mining fields?”

“Are you seriously suggesting not letting millions of people prepare for-” You’re cut off by the sudden appearance of a dozen more spacecraft, all of their noses pointed in your direction as you and Fish zoom past way faster than you should. “No, no, no!”

“Sunshine, listen to me,” Fish says as he puts his hand over yours. It grounds you, and you’re grateful for it, even if you don’t understand what he’s doing. “If they know we’ve been patrolling the fields, I’m guessing their main plan is to follow us back to the Endeavour.”

“…Which means they don’t know where it’s anchored,” you add, your anxious expression slowly turning into a smirk.

“Now you’re getting it,” he chuckles. “Let’s go take some advantage of that, hm?”

You nod and grab the controls in front of you to start plotting a route that’s just erratic enough not to draw suspicion to the fact that you’re leading the following spacecraft away from the Endeavour. Fish navigates the jet precisely along your route, narrowly avoiding the asteroids while turning a few degrees to the left every few seconds until you’re coasting out of the mining fields and into empty space. It works; behind you, the stream of spacecraft grows steadily, and with it, so does the size of the individual ships.

“They’re still following us,” Fish says after a while. He sounds a lot less sure of his case than he did ten minutes ago. “Hey, we have enough power left for a jump?”

“Depends on where you want to go,” you say, checking the fuel systems. “I reckon we can jump a total of about a thousand light years.”

“The center of the galaxy’s a little less than eight hundred light years away, correct?”

“Yes, but what…” you trail off as realization hits you like a nuclear bomb. “No, don’t even think about it.”

“They’re not backing off, Sunshine.” Fish turns to look you in the eyes, a small, watery smile on his lips. “I don’t think we have a-”

“Of course we have a choice,” you say with as much severity as you can muster, which, to be frank, isn’t a lot right now. “There’s always a choice.”

“Would you rather wipe out their fleet or our own?”

“I don’t-”

“Do it, Sunshine,” he says sternly. “Make the jump.”

You hesitate, your hand hovering over the lever. “Is… is there really no one on the Endeavour you’d turn back for?”

Fish’s smile grows a bit; you can see it’s genuine. “…I’m here with you, aren’t I? That’s enough for me.”

It catches you off guard, the way he says it. Deep down, you already knew what his answer would be. You dreamt about it, after all. Without another word, you push the lever forward, and the jet glides across space-time until it slows down again, finally coming to a halt near the event horizon of the massive black hole at the center of the galaxy.

“Did it work? Are they coming?” Fish almost jumps out of his chair to look outside, while you decide to look at the little radar on the control board. One by one the tiny, blinking dots come streaming in; your evidence of a job well done.

“Fish?” you ask, your voice wavering. There’s something more important than saving the universe on your mind right now. “Am I really enough for you?”

“Oh, stars,” he says, his own happy mood turning into something else as well. He sinks to his knees in front of your chair and looks up at you. “You are more than enough. You’re all I ever think about, you’re the only one that-”

Before he can finish his sentence, you’ve already grabbed his face and crashed your lips into his. You’re about to be swallowed up by a black hole, explanations can wait. The kiss grows more and more fervent as Fish’s hands travel up your thighs to hold your waist, a tingling feeling taking up refuge in your belly. After Newton knows how long, the two of you reluctantly break away from each other to breathe.

Stars, Fish, you whisper, but he shakes his head. Call me Frankie, he says. Please, call me Frankie. You tilt your head and press your lips against his scruff. Frankie, you whisper, please don’t stop. And he doesn’t. He closes his eyes and kisses you, over and over and over until your lips are swollen and all thoughts have left your head.

He zips open your overalls slowly, kissing every inch of newly uncovered skin he can find. His kisses burn lower and lower across your skin, past your clavicles, your chest, your belly, and before you, thousands of stars slowly implode. You don’t know if you’ve ever felt like this before; it’s all so incredibly bittersweet. You get to spend the longest night of your life with the man you love, but it’ll also be the last night you’ll ever experience.

One by one little pinpricks of light fade out in the darkness outside, while others explode in brightly colored clouds-- the same thing happens to your nerves whenever Frankie moves even the slightest bit. It’s a good thing sound doesn’t carry in space, or else you wouldn’t be able to hear the beautiful noises he makes when he closes his eyes in pleasure.

The two of you tumble around in what little space you have, the light of a billion dying stars illuminating every single part of your joint bodies as you splay your hands across his chest. The darkness is taking over more quickly now, enveloping your jet into nothingness, drawing you into the vast emptiness of its core.

We must have done something right, Frankie whispers as you lay, sweaty and tired, awaiting your bittersweet ending, to deserve such an incredible encore.

You close your eyes and curl up into his chest as you whisper back, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

You open your eyes again and smile when you look at Mr. Morales. He’s so gentle like this, with his fingers flying across the piano, not at all the stoic soldier he usually is. It’s nice, even if the others think it’s boring.

He finishes the piece with a shuddering creshendo, and you bite back a smile when he looks at you with those gorgeos eyes of his.

“Why’d you stop singing, my lady?”

“I apologize, sir,” you say as you flip over the music sheet on the little ledge of the piano. “But I simply can’t help it; you play so wonderfully, and I never truly learnt to sing very well. It seems a shame to pollute such beautiful tones with my own.”

“Nonsense,” Mr. Morales says with a kind smile. “Your voice only ever makes me want to play better.”

Your cheeks heat up at that, but the moment is quickly disrupted.

“Encore, encore!” a voice behind you yells; it’s Mr. Garcia, who’s been sitting in his usual post on the third floor. “We’re gonna need more than just the one piece if we’re to have any luck in catching more than a score of those bastards tonight.”

“Why don’t you come down and try singing for a bit, it might help,” Mr. Morales chuckles beside you. When he notices you staring at him, he leans in a little closer and adds, “Are you all right, miss? You seem distracted.”

“I’m perfectly good, sir.” You swallow hard and let out a weary breath. “Your music always seems to carry me away further than I expect.”

And for a moment there, you think to yourself, I thought I saw the stars up close.

A/N: I really threw all my knowledge of space and science out the window for this one and replaced it with nonsense and movie-science. Also, I’ve watched Interstellar, Free Guy, and Groundhog Day way too much for my own good.

The title of this chapter comes from an instrumental by the Grandbrothers which I listened to while writing, so if you want the full experience you can look that up.

If I'm missing any content warnings, do let me know! I'd hate to hurt someone with my writing, but I don't really know how to work those out yet.

PS: If you've got a favorite AU and/or dynamic, I'd love to hear about it! This series is going to explore a bunch of different ones, but I think my own imagination will only get me so far :)

As always, feedback is appreciated and my inbox is open! Have a great day!

[sunnysidekit]

Amaryllis Chapter 5: It’s Been Awhile

Pairing: Frankie x f!Reader

WC: 3.6K

Warnings: Not every chapter is going to be 18+ but the story as a whole IS so minors DNI, lots of pining, Tom, but he’s more in the background…

Summary: I have something I need to run by you - I know you said you had to do this on your own, but I had to try. I need to see you. This has to be discussed in person. — Frankie

A/N: So I think I’m going to try and update every Friday, just to try and keep somewhat of a consistent schedule. This Chapter was done yesterday and Chapter 6 is almost ready to go, but I didn’t want to post too soon lol

What are your thoughts on a posting schedule? Should there be a set time between updates at a minimum, or just roll them out as they’re finished??

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

It has been two months since you kissed Frankie. Two months since you’ve been able to go anywhere by yourself — Tom was exactly how you knew he would be - Loud, arrogant, and controlling to the point that he would accompany you everywhere including Wednesdays with your Mom. No more appointments followed by lunch meetings with Frankie at the diner. No more adult conversations where you could just be with no expectations, no hiding… that was all over.

You played your part well. The scared little girl you had been when you met Tom no longer existed, but she was such a part of your psyche that you could act like her. That day had awakened something within you — The feeling had been there for months, but you could never articulate what it meant due to your situation.

Slowly, Frankie had been breaking down your walls without your knowledge. Giving you a courage you didn’t even know you possessed, which subsequently led to several fights with Tom that in fact preceded your kiss with Frankie.

You felt like you had always known him, when in reality it had only been a few short months. Having him as a staple in your life for that small amount of time and then losing him? Knowing that there was so much better for you out there only solidified your resolve.

You no longer let Tom’s control tear you down… His obsessive nature in general along with recent events led him to install cameras so you were always being watched. He made threats of having eyes everywhere so no matter where you would go, he would know.

You had to figure something out before the baby came.

There were still a few things however, that never changed — Fight Night for instance.

Generally, Benny’s fights were only once or twice a month, but lately Benny gained more popularity in the local circles thus more Fight Nights with Tom and the guys… sans Frankie of course.

You knew Frankie wouldn’t attend and as such, Tom felt like a big shot. He had you safe and sound at home and he could continue doing what he always did like nothing ever happened. The guys were aware that a minor lapse in judgment caused a rift between Tom and Frankie and Tom liked to point out that Frankie just couldn’t let it go.

It was left out to the guys though, that Frankie had come to your rescue after your husband had become physically abusive. The guys didn’t ask for details on the fallout, and Frankie knew it wasn’t his right to talk about it, especially when it was his big mouth that caused Tom to snap to begin with. Not that it was an excuse, but to Frankie, you seemed sure in what you wanted, and that was to figure this out yourself. Frankie, however, made sure that he kept in touch with the guys to keep an eye on your situation and just make sure you were ok.

You only knew that he even kept in touch with them at all after a particular Friday night about a month after you went back to Tom.

It was still the usual scenario… Tom would get shitfaced and one of the guys would bring him home. This time it was Santi, and as per usual, he had to walk Tom’s drunk ass inside and physically put him in bed…

Some nights, Tom just stomped through the front door and ordered you to the room. This time though, you were relieved to see Santi holding him up as he made his way to the bedroom.

You shake your head slightly and Santi gives you a quick nod as he practically drags Tom with him. After a couple of minutes, Santi comes back out and makes eye contact with you across the room.. he doesn’t say a word, but he nods his head toward the front door, asking for you to follow.

Once outside, you walk with Santi back to his truck.

He abruptly turns to you, holding out his hand.. “Here take this.”

“What is it?”

“It’s from Frankie.”

That was all he had to say before you were snatching the small parcel out of his hands.

“Not here,” he whispers quietly, shaking his head slightly.

“Frankie asked me to get this to you, said it was urgent…. so I may have given Tom a few extra drinks, not that he fought me too much…”

You roll your eyes, because of course he didn’t…..

“I still don’t know what’s going on in all of this. I’ve never seen Fish so nervous and he won’t tell me anything, but he said he was worried about you and insisted that I deliver this to you in person.”

You hug Santi with enough force to push him back a little. He’s trying to be wary of your stomach, but rubs your back lightly as your emotions get the better of you and you cry into his jacket.

“Tell him I’m ok. That I’m still trying to figure things out…”

“What things? I still don’t understand. I’ve gotten the gist that your marriage to Tom isn’t very traditional, but—“

You cut him off —“Just tell him for me…. Please…”

“Alright, Alright…” he holds his hands up in defeat, “yes ma’am.” The look he’s giving you lets you know that he’s not sure, but he takes the hint and doesn’t push you further.

“I hope you guys know what you’re doing… but be safe, yeah? I’ll probably see you next week.”

You wave lightly as Santi starts up his truck. You quickly stash the neatly folded piece of paper into the soft lining of one of your warm socks, and make your way back inside.

—

You go about your evening routine as usual. Just in case Tom were to rouse out of his coma, you didn’t want to give him any reason to be curious.

You’re on pins and needles with the feeling of the Frankie’s note burning a hole next to your foot. All you want to do is rip it open and devour its contents, but you know you need to play this right, so you finish tidying up the kitchen and living room, and make your way to the bathroom. You lock yourself in, and start up the shower.

You were anxious to know what Frankie had written… your stomach is doing flip flops as you fight the urge to vomit. Taking a deep breath, you carefully begin to unfold the letter — Your name is written on the outside. You open it slowly, so the crinkle of paper doesn’t wake up Tom. Currently, his snoring is able to be heard even over the shower, but you didn’t want to take any chances—

The writing is very small and you think it matches Frankie’s calm demeanor. It’s dated yesterday..

—

I hope more than anything that you get this. I’ve been so worried about you and the baby, but the guys tell me you’re ok. You’re so much stronger than anyone gives you credit for. Not that the guys really know much about you, but I won’t go into details about what happened with them.

I had to be able to talk to you in some way. Every Wednesday I look for your car, hoping you’ll be at the clinic or at the diner and I KNOW you won’t, but I still go - the same time every week. Even before that day in my truck, you were just so easy to talk to, and I started looking forward to therapy just because I got to see you. I knew it was wrong because you were married to my friend “superior,” but we just talked and you seemed to benefit from it just as much as I did. You even started smiling after a few weeks - I like to think it’s because we developed a relat- friendship that was different from everyone else. It’s probably wishful thinking, but I really hope not. I’m not very good at this kind of stuff so I hope you don’t think I’m being too cheesy saying that… sorry

You smile to yourself as you see several areas where he scribbled something out, or tried fixing a mistake etc

I have something I need to run by you- I know you said you had to do this on your own, but I had to try.

I need to see you. This has to be discussed in person.

I’m going to have Santi help me. He doesn’t know all of the details, but he’s done with Tom’s bullshit in general and he promised to help keep an eye on you guys and the baby.

Now if you aren’t ok with this, we won’t do it. I want you to feel comfortable and I want it to be your choice.

If you agree to meet, it will be in about 4 weeks. Ben’s fight is in the City this time and it’ll give us time to talk if Tom is nowhere near you. Santi already cleared that Tom would be there after some persuasion. Tom didn’t want to leave you alone all night, but Santi can be a little shit, so he eventually agreed.

The plan is that Tom will ride up with Santi and leave his truck. I’ll send more details, but Tom will do as he always does, which would will leave you open to meet with me. When you see Santi, just let him know your answer. I promise I will understand if you say no. It is completely up to you. If you agree, I’ll send Santi with more instructions.

I hope you’re doing ok regardless.

I miss you. Don’t give up hope. I’m still here whenever you need me.

I’ll talk to you soon,

Frankie

—

With tears in your eyes, you refold the paper and carefully put it back in its hiding place - You’re grateful for the small size as it’s really the only place you can hide it. You keep it with to you at all times, until next Friday when you get to see Santi.

–

It’s incredibly embarrassing how predictable Tom is when he thinks he’s in control. When Santi pulls up, you hear the commotion of him trying to get Tom to his feet – The childish way Santi has to talk to him to keep him calm and get him into bed – You try not to let your excitement show on your face until Tom is tucked away and out cold.

You walk to the truck with Santi and you hand him a similarly folded piece of paper to give to Frankie. All you do is nod with a smile and tears in your eyes. Santi takes it, but reaches for something in his coat pocket. He pulls out a small envelope and hands it to you. You weren’t expecting anything back yet, but you take it and put it away safely beside the pounding pulse point in your shoe. You make your way inside, and unfortunately, Tom wasn’t as put out as you had originally thought. You’ll have to wait until later before you get to read what Frankie sent you. You take a breath and open your bedroom door where Tom is already waiting.

–

Frankie has been trying to keep himself occupied - Busy work helps keep his mind from racing, wondering what he’s going to hear on Friday. He goes ahead and writes out the details and gives them to Santi with instructions to give it to you only if you tell him that you're ok with meeting with him. He’s praying that you do…

Flash forward to Friday night and Frankie is exhausted. This week he’s been focused on throwing all of his energy into work and when he’s at home, he’s organizing and cleaning literally every inch of his house until his body drops into bed, only to wake up and do it all again the next day.

Tonight though, he has been so anxious just waiting, waiting, waiting that he can’t help himself and he texts Santi– The fight wouldn’t have even started yet, but he can’t find it in himself to wait. He asks Santi to basically give him a play by play of the night to ease his increasingly rampant thoughts.

—

Just got to the fight. Benny’s up nest 7:34pm

K man. Thanks 7:34pm

Our boy kicked ass as usual. T is already 5 in 8:15pm

Fuck yeah Benjamin! Man I miss going with you guys…. Keep him full 8:16pm

Just met up w/ Miller boys @ Hannah’s 8:54pm

Have fun - Drinks on me!! 8:54pm

[😠] 9:52pm

Fuck T man. I’m ready for this to be over. Not sure how many more

of these I can handle 9:53pm

Keep me in the dark unless she’s

involved. I don’t want to fuck this up. Hopefully only 2 more if all goes to plan 9:56pm

Redfly is taking his last piss. We’re heading her way 11:05pm

K, thanks man - remember only if she agrees - don’t question her. Just get her answer and head out) 11:07pm

{✔👍} 11:08pm

–

Frankie sits down in one of his kitchen chairs and his leg starts bouncing uncontrollably. His anxiety about the entire situation has him completely on edge, so he texts Benny just to give his hands something to do…

Congrats man! Miss you guys 11:10pm

😘 💖💖💖 - miss you too 11:11pm

Well that didn’t take very long…. Frankie was hoping he’d be waiting for a response to kill a little more time…. Not sure what else to do, he scrolls through his phone, just waiting for text back. He wasn’t expecting one back from Benny.

—

She’s going to say yes man. Stop worrying 11:21pm

What the fuck? How in the hell does Benny know? He’s going to kill Pope.

He’s not sure what the fuck to think so he just tries to play it off….

What do you mean? 11:21pm

Pope told me after he snapped at Tom over something he said about his wife. Wouldn’t go into detail, but I made him fill me in a little bit. 11:23pm

Well. Not sure what all he told you but I just want to make sure she’s ok… 11:24pm

You don’t gotta explain yourself to me brother. Just don’t be stupid. 11:24pm

This whole thing is just so fucked. She doesn’t deserve Tom’s shit. 11:25pm

Bro, it’s gonna b ok. She’s tough 💪 11:25pm

Yes she is 11:26pm

🤮 11:26pm

Shut up asshole 🖕11:27pm

I kid, I kid… not sure I even wanna ask at this point… Just talk to Pope and see what she said :) 11:28pm

Yeah, it’s been about 20 min since I talked to him. Thx again man 11:29pm

[✌️💖💖💖] 11:30pm

Frankie wants to wait just a few more minutes for Santi to message back… But a couple of minutes turns to ten, then to twenty…. Frankie’s had enough –

Everything ok?? 11:52pm

Nothing. Not even showing read. Fuck! He probably just left his phone in the car and is dealing with Tom. Fucking bastard. Frankie paces around his living room continuously checking his phone. ‘Why isn’t he messaging back?’

After another agonizing twenty minutes he sends Santi another message–

Pope? Man, I'm losing it. What’s going on? 12:12am

Still not showing read…. What if Tom found it? What if he found your letter from last week? Or the one Santi was holding tonight? Tom wouldn’t lay hands on Santi - Would he? Fuck, fuck, FUCK!!

Frankie tries calling and it goes to voicemail… That’s it…. Frankie decides he’s had enough – He grabs his keys and jacket and pulls on his boots. He’s about to walk out the door when he sees headlights pulling up. He steps out and meets the familiar truck in his driveway.

Santi’s face is like stone – No emotion. No sense of what he’s about to be told….

Santi reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a folded envelope – Frankie’s face falls instantly - She said no… He puts his hands on his hips and kicks his foot against some gravel, paying close attention to how the gravel seeps into the edge of the grass of his yard…

“Here.” Santi holds up the unread letter for Frankie to take. Frankie’s disappointment is written all over his face and Santi hands it to him and goes in for a hug…

“She said yes, Cabron.”

Frankie’s head jerks up instantly.. “What? Why didn’t you give it to her then?”

“I did. This one's for you… from her.”

Santi is smiling and had his heart not been absolutely soaring, Frankie would’ve flipped him off... She said yes.

–

The next three weeks pass by in a blur – you are all nerves, as you count the days until you meet with Frankie to hear his plan. At this point you’re just happy to see him at all. Santi had given you the letter like Frankie advised when you agreed to meet him. Unfortunately, it took until the next day before you had the chance to read it.

Tom had a showing that Saturday morning, so you were left to your own devices for a while. Not that you weren’t being constantly monitored… or at least Tom would have you believing you were. You took the opportunity to wash off the night before. Scrubbing Tom from your skin was a relief, but you were really just wanting to read Frankie’s letter…. It was handwritten again on a simple piece of notebook paper. You smiled, because he could’ve just told Santi the plan and had him tell you, but seeing his handwriting made you feel closer to him.

—

I just want you to know that the last month has been really fucking hard.

I know by sending you these letters that we are taking a huge risk and I’m truly sorry for putting you in that position. But I had to try something. I’m writing this one now knowing that there is a real possibility that you’ll never see it. I meant it when I said that this is your decision.

If you are reading this then I just want to start by saying Hi :)

I wanted to give you the details of the “HOW” we’re going to make fight night work.

The fight is in the City that week, so from now that should be about 2 3 weeks. You don’t have to do nothing anything… Just continue on like normal. On the night of the fight we’ve already figured out how to get Tom to leave his truck.

You’ll go to this address - and I'll be on the 3rd floor in room 328. It will be unlocked so just come in.

I know this is a lot. I know you’ve already said you agree, but you do not have to do this. I won’t be upset and I understand. I don’t know how well I’ll be able to talk communicate until then, but I’ll be there regardless. If it’s too much, I promise you understand.

I do hope to see you. I hope you’re ok and I would do just about anything just to have a coffee with you again.

Talk to you soon,

Frankie

—

Your shower now long forgotten, you devour the letter over and over again. Three more weeks was no time at all, but felt like an eternity. You run your fingers over Frankie’s words before folding the paper again and taking a deep breath. You would be there. Only three more weeks.

–

It’s the night of the fight in the City. Last week you saw Santi, but he didn’t have a letter for you. He said Frankie knew what he was doing and that everything would be ok. He had Tom handled and that was half the battle.

The fight is set to start at 8:00pm and Santi was set to show up right around 6. You hear the knock at the door and inside you’re feeling like you’re going to puke, but on the outside you’re calm and just sitting at the table sipping your coffee. Santi walks in saying “hi” and asks about the baby. Just acting very casual for Tom’s sake.

Tom hurries him out the door, hardly even acknowledging your presence. Santi must’ve promised him something for Tom to be rushing him out the door. You just sit at the table and wait - you watch the clock and after 15 minutes you take a deep breath. It’s time. You try to quell your nerves as you find your shoes - Deep breath in, deep breath out- The fact that this meeting with Frankie was to discuss plans was probably the furthest thing from your mind. You honestly didn’t care about the reason. You just needed to see him.

You read over the address one last time before tucking Frankie’s letter safely away. The two of them having been a physical reminder to get you through the last few weeks. You take a last look in the mirror, take a breath, and you’re on your way out the door.

You’re sure in your decision - You’re sure in Frankie’s plan.

You get in the truck, put the key in the ignition and the sound of the exhaust is almost music to your ears. You check your mirrors, put the truck in reverse and you pull out of your driveway. You're paranoid that somehow Tom is going to pop out of nowhere and stop you. But, so far, so good.

You drive for maybe five minutes before you spot your destination. It is a large professional type building. The floor level rooms inside were usually reserved for businesses to host large company conferences and seminars. There was lodging available for employees and their guests as well.

You park the truck, and try to calm your nerves. You don’t look around you, but enter the building with a confidence that absolutely did not match how you felt. For the first time in almost two months you’ve managed to successfully go somewhere without Tom - The best part is that you know what’s waiting for you.

Frankie. Sweet Frankie. Above all else, he is your only real friend - apart from Santi who has been nothing but kind to you throughout this whole thing. Frankie - Well, he was more than just a friend now wasn’t he? You smile at the memory of his lips – You hadn’t stopped thinking about them for two months. And right now, he was waiting for you.

You make your way to the elevator. Third floor, room 328.

Your palms are sweating and your breathing intensifies as the elevator ascends. When the door opens you step out and look both ways. Finding the signs to point you to the room, you slowly make your way down the hallway.

You’re standing in front of the door. Frankie said it would be open so you don’t waste another moment before you grab the handle, letting yourself in and slowly closing the door behind you.

—

Taglist: @boliv-jenta @just-here-for-the-moment @heythere-mel @wildemaven @something-tofightfor @hnt-escape @bitchwitch1981 @harriedandharassed @readingiskeepingmegoing @queridopascal-main @dashavau @imaswellkid @quica-quica-quica @sunnysidekit @autumnleaves1991-blog @mymo-n @pastelnap @tanzthompson @littlemisspascal @prose-before-hoes

A/N: Chapter 6 brings us to the overall E rating for this story… It’s 9.2K words worth of resolved tension and longing. It was the first full chapter I had finished and my first attempt at smut, but I’m proud of it and I hope it makes up for all the pain these two have gone through so far. Again we’re only approaching the halfway point, so we have a ways to go before we reach the end. Thank you all so much for reading!

[sunnysidekit]

Amaryllis Chapter 4

Pairing: Frankie x f!Reader

WC: 6.4k

A/N: Alrighty, things definitely start to take a turn here so please please read the warnings!!!

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, allusions to dub-con, but nothing actually happens, domestic assault, emotional/physical abuse, Tom - He’s going to come with his own warning, protective Frankie, Reader has emotional trauma, pregnancy stuff - nothing explicit, lots of feelings, infidelity, kissing

Summary: Tom crosses the line. You and Frankie are left wondering what to do next and end up crossing a line of your own. —have I mentioned I’m shit at summaries?

Series Masterlist |

The air outside is cool and crisp. The last little round of snow has melted for the most part, but despite the sunny weather, the chill in the air reminds you that it’s still very much winter.

This time of year, department stores are decked out in reds and pinks. Candies and balloons line every checkout aisle, making sure to capitalize on the day dedicated to Love that comes with each and every passing year. You’ve never really thought much about the holiday yourself. It’s never been a big deal for you and especially not for Tom… He would never reduce himself to flowers and chocolate— the sentiment was something he completely lacked all together.

—

This season in your life has been completely full of changes… some obvious. —Others not so much.

Physically? Everyone can see your very visible bump, the visual reminder of the child you share with your husband. Tom, who you wish more than anything you could just erase from your life - past and present. Knowing that the life you carry inside you is half of him? It makes you more sad than anything else. You take a breath and come back to yourself after having let your mind wander.

Currently, you are sitting in the passenger seat of Frankie’s truck.

You look over and watch him silently. He still hasn’t said a word since you got into the cab.

His hands rub the steering wheel up and down -- a nervous tick you’ve noticed the last few times you’ve ridden with him.

You’re parked outside of his house --your call for help, now a distant memory after only silence during your drive. Frankie is still looking forward — hands still on the wheel.

You wished that being here with him had a different reasoning behind it. The irony of the day not lost on you.

He can’t even look at you.

Your cheeks are still red, although you can’t feel it anymore. It could be passed off as just rosy due to the cold, but both of you know the truth…

You look down in between you and Frankie. The older truck interior is a scratchy tan and red material… No center console, just a single seat that could fit three comfortably. You are on the far passenger side and Frankie on the driver’s side.

“What um… Where do you want me to take you?”

Frankie sounds almost withdrawn.

As if he didn’t just fight for your honor and defend you against your husband who finally seems to have lost his mind….

Images plague your mind as you ponder Frankie’s question…

—

Earlier That Day…..

Tom was a fucking asshole when he was drunk, but he normally reserved drinking for Friday’s on fight nights’ with the guys. So you were very surprised, when you came home on a Wednesday, after spending the day with your Mother, to find him home -- Not at work – but drunk. And extremely pissed off.

Something had been off with him for a long time now, but you never knew why. Something he wasn’t telling you, although that didn’t say a lot. But something else that was wearing on him. He must’ve been feeling it today because as soon as you walked in, he started going off…..

“Any idea how much money we’d save if you didn’t go to the City every Goddamn week?

—When’s she gonna take care of herself?

—I take care of her and I don’t get shit! ...We’re broke…” He chuckles —“always have been.. And you just keep doing everything for her…. Why?”

“Tom, stop. We’re not having this conversation. You’re drunk. We can discuss it later when you’ve had some time to sober up.”

—“Well I want to do it now!” He sounds like a petulant child. “How come you give her all of your attention huh? - Even that baby gets more from you than I do. I put the little fucker there, so you’d think that would count for something?”

“Tom, do you not remember that night? It was anything but romantic.”

“I remember having a good time… Fight Night with the guys and making love to my “wife” (he makes quotations in the air with his fingers.) “Wouldn’t you say the same?”

“Love is not the word I would use, no.” You have no idea where this courage is coming from.. It scares you a bit, but you continue on…

“I recall what always happens on “Fight Night…” it was your turn to use quotations.

“You get black out drunk and one of the guys has to bring you home. This time it was Frankie.”

He scoffs at the sound of Frankie’s name…. “Yeah, great guy our Fish..” He says it with so much disgust then adds… “You know he does a lot worse than just Drinking right? Lost his license and everything ‘cause he couldn’t stop the coke….”

“Tom, he’s your friend. Why are you being that way?”

You of course already knew about Frankie’s past coping mechanisms that he wasn’t proud of. He never tried to make excuses for himself, but wanted to strive to do better moving forward.

“Uh huh, some friend he is... Friend’s don’t do the things he’s done sweetheart. Friends don’t go behind your back yeah? ‘Friends’” (air quotes again) “don’t get little crushes on the wives of their superiors…” His tone gets deeper and more forceful with every word- “Friends don’t stick their nose into business that has nothing to do with them!”

“What are you talking about Tom?”

“Oh, are we just now learning about Frankie’s little obsession with you?”

You’re staring blankly…. You knew things had started to feel different between you and Frankie, for a while now if you’re being honest, but hearing it? Especially from Tom, who did not know how you guys would catch up over coffee every Wednesday for the last few months? You hadn’t even admitted anything to yourself, and you sure as hell weren’t confident in how Frankie felt. But Tom seemed to think he knew.

“Oh, a little birdy overheard him telling Will about how you deserved better than this arrangement you had with me…” —Every word out of his mouth is dripping in venomous condescension… He continues—

“The arrangement that no one was supposed to know about. Care to tell the class how MY friend seems to know, very well I might add, about our situation sweetheart?”

You are speechless. When you had spoken to Frankie about this he knew the implications of others finding out. Why would he tell Will?

Your thoughts are running rampant to the point you miss Tom getting up from the table. You look up at him as he comes to you. You try to calm your breathing as he gently puts his hands on your upper arms, rubbing up and down.

In a low register, he says quietly, “how would Frankie know about this huh?” His grip on your arms tightens slightly as he grinds his teeth and slowly growls, “you fucking told him.” It’s not a question.

You look away then, the shame you felt under his intense stare was more than you could handle. Almost instantly, you hear a crack and feel an intense pain in your left cheek -- then silence -- Maybe two seconds have passed and that’s all before you’re brought back to earth when the pain flares and your head stops ringing…

“You fucking told him about what I do for you -- about what you’re supposed to do for me! The deal that YOU agreed to, that would keep your ‘mommy’ safe and taken care of, unless you’ve forgotten? Or maybe you no longer care? Well guess what?”

--”No!! No Tom listen -- listen to me please!”

--Another crack to the opposite side and you lose your balance and stumble backwards -- your back hits the fridge and Tom is crowding you against it, almost snarling in your face—

“I fucking told you what would happen! I don’t ask for much -- I pay your bills -- I buy you everything! All I ask for is a warm cunt to fuck every once in a while and a wife to take care of me when I’m home…. Is that too damn much to ask??”

You are trying to hide your face to no avail.

“Look at me!!”

He grabs your mouth with his hand and scrunches your lips in an almost pout—

“You are MINE, whether you like it or fucking not. You agreed. You married ME in front of your family and vowed to love, honor, and Cherish….” His eyes are wild. His breathing is coming out in harsh pants across your face. The smell of alcohol, acrid and hot, makes you nauseous on top of the throbbing of your cheeks.

“Unless of course you only want to see her by webcam when she gets shipped back to Cuba?”

The tears are flowing freely and you nod your head slowly side to side…

“That’s a good girl,” as he pats your cheek condescendingly--

“Now sit the fuck down. I gotta piss – don’t you fucking move. I’ll be right back.”

He puts his hands up in a mock surrender as he backs up. “I just wanna talk.”

His laugh as he walks away is almost sadistic and you think he’s finally lost it. You actually fear for yourself and your unborn child.

You sit quietly —You don’t move, but you look at your purse… where you know your flip phone is —where you know the last number you called was Frankie’s, asking him the name of the sandwich he ordered at lunch that afternoon. What was only a few hours ago now seems light years away…

You reach over slowly so as to not alert Tom - You grasp the phone in your hand, putting it under the table. You pray with everything in you that your phone kept the contact info for a redial. You hit send and within two rings a very confused Frankie answers…

He knows the deal with the phone and knows you should be at home -- so why were you calling him?

“Hello?”

—”Shhhhhhh shhhhhhhh….” you say in the softest tone you can manage that’s audible…

“Help…” you whisper…. “Please.”

And you hang up and pray he doesn’t try to call back.

You put your phone back and close your eyes - you hear Tom stomping down the hallway until he’s back in front of you.

“Oh why the long face sweetheart? I’m not mad anymore… I just don’t want to lose you…”

He’s walking towards you slowly, like he’s approaching a wounded animal. His voice is calm and even…. “You know how much I love you right?”

The complete 180 in his demeanor gives you whiplash as you try to make sense of his words.

Tom steps in front of you and kneels down —He looks completely gone. He must’ve thrown down a few more shots just before you got home because he seems worse now than before.

Tom puts his hands on your thighs, rubbing up and down and now he’s staring between your legs —You gulp unconsciously…

“This fucking cunt… God, I just want to bury myself in it and never fucking leave.”

He chuckles again, looking up to you with glazed puppy dog eyes. “Would you like that? Hmmm??? Want me to fill you up baby?”

You swallow your disgust and say nothing.

He chuckles, “Well,” he lowers his eyes to your midsection. “Guess I already did that didn’t I?”

He says it with pride as he eyes your stomach. You do your best to remain calm because you know what happens next.

—Sex with Tom, while not always unenjoyable in general, would border on scary when he was drunk. It had been more recently that it became almost painful. He has always been pretty vulgar with you and sometimes almost seemed to try and rough you up. He wasn’t necessarily being forceful, but he was definitely capable and he seemed to get off on the power trip of that knowledge. Like he knew he could hurt you, but chose not to.

– Lately, it seemed like he would go as hard as he could, like he was trying to run away from something…

He wasn’t gentle and as your bump grew, so did his frustration when you would say things like “don’t hurt the baby” etc.

“Don’t hurt the baby….” Mocking your concern and simply turning you over until you were on all fours. His grip on your hips was always bruising and he’d slap your ass so hard it would leave welts for hours.

The only upside was that he was usually done fairly quickly and would pass out— leaving you to clean up and brace yourself before quietly coming back to bed and trying to sleep.

Your face stings, reminding you that this time he’d actually hit you — not once, but twice.

He had never crossed that line before. He’s never been good to you, but even after all this time, he’d never physically laid hands on you in that way. You knew that this was a much different, much more dangerous version of the man that you realize you’ve hated for a very long time.

You are trying to draw out the time to give Frankie the chance to get here

— If he was even coming at all.

You weren’t even sure where he was, having just seen him for lunch in the City, but you had to hope he was here in town somehow. Otherwise he would be too far and you didn’t trust calling 911 just yet.

You did not want to find out what would happen if you went to bed with Tom in this state, but you were also worried about fighting him now—

He’s grabbing your hand and pulling you to your feet. You pray that it's over with quickly and that he takes pity on you when he looks at your face.

You would rather he just belittle you with his words as opposed to getting more physical.

—You begin to follow him when you’re stopped by the screech of tires and the rough scrape of gravel being spewed behind a halting vehicle. The sound is loud enough to alert Tom so that he goes to the window, only to see a very scared looking Frankie running up the porch steps and banging on the door.

“What the fuck?”

Tom doesn’t let go of your hand as he goes to open the door.

“What are you doing here Fish?” Tom snaps.

You’re positioned behind the door so Frankie can’t see you…

He waits a moment, just listening before he asks where you are.. He sounds scared, worried. You’d never heard that from him before.

You look up quickly at the mention of your name and Tom notices as you still.

“Ha, the fuck you have any reason to ask where MY wife is?!”

He looks to you, then to Frankie and it dawns on him that he left you alone long enough to make a call—

Obviously, the call was to Frankie who wasted no time in coming to your rescue.

“The fuck she tell you? Huh?”

“Tom, man, I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but I just came to make sure she’s ok. That’s all.”

“Oh she’s fine. Isn’t that right sweetheart?”

Tom pulls you out from behind the door and you see the look on Frankie’s face fall, his jaw dropping in concern, then changing to anger the second he takes note of your reddened cheeks. Both are stinging and puffy, but the right side has a tiny knick from the contact with Tom’s wedding ring. It’s hardly bled, but is noticeable enough that without a word, the next thing you know, Tom is on the ground —almost taking you with him.

The second Tom’s hand is out of yours, you run outside into the biting February air.. No shoes, no purse —phone still in your bag on the table. Tom is too dazed to notice right away, but once his vision clears, he’s up and nose to nose with Frankie.

Wasting no time, Frankie knocks him back down, grabbing him by his jacket and slamming him back onto the tile floor. Tom starts to struggle, but Frankie reaches into his back pocket and starts wrapping something around Tom’s wrists, pulling tightly. You think they look like zip ties…

What the fuck was Frankie doing? He couldn’t just leave Tom like this… Could he?

Tom is spewing all kinds of things now… “You just fucking wait….. I taught you everything you fucking know asshole!!”

You look toward the open front door when you hear your name…

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? You just gonna stand there? Get me out of this!!!”

When you make no move to help Tom, he starts laughing maniacally…

”Ohhhh, you fucking… You made a big fucking mistake….. What’s your MOMMY gonna say when she finds out what you’re doing huh?? Leaving me here like this? Are you forgetting what I can do sweetheart???”

At his words, you start to panic. You run back inside, no real plan, just fear propelling you forward.

“Frankie Stop! He’s right, just let him go!”

Tom can’t help himself, but to chime in,

“Yeah Frank, let me go!”

Frankie looks at you again and as he sees the light spot of purple blooming on your right cheek, he grabs Tom by the front of his shirt and spits outs “Fuck you Tom,” headbutting him and pushing him to the floor.

“Get your shit and let’s go! He won’t be out long.”

You run and grab your purse and phone, grabbing your shoes and coat without putting them on as you run to Frankie’s truck.

Frankie takes a little extra time with the zip ties, securing them around Tom’s legs as well just to make it that much harder for him to get out once he comes to.

You’re in the truck when Frankie comes out. He gets in without a word, starts it up and peels out quickly… Leaving Tom behind, tied up and unconscious.

You had no idea what was going to happen. You were terrified to see what Tom would do, but the prospect of finally being free from him? You didn’t know what to do with yourself.

Frankie was gripping the steering wheel harshly —Knuckles white and fingernails digging into the leather. He still hasn’t said anything to you, but you try to enjoy the silence for now. You have no idea where you’re going, but you close your eyes and just listen to the heater blow warm air throughout the cab as Frankie drives you away.

—

“I don’t know.”

An honest answer to his question of where to take you… Because you don’t. Where do you go when you’re six months pregnant, and your husband is a psychopath who is probably going out of his mind trying to find you right now. You were worried about your mother, but you knew Tom would be obsessed with finding you first. You think you will have enough time to alert her to possibly try and stay with a friend until things calm down.

“I don’t have anything in this City. My mother lives here, but Tom knows where she lives —Why did we come here Frankie? He knows I left with you so this will be the first place he checks!”

“Tom won’t find us here. He doesn’t know about this place. It was my Dad’s, but it’s mine now.”

You double take and look again at your surroundings… There are trees surrounding you in pretty much every direction, and in the center is a little cabin that looks like it could use some TLC —like it’s been abandoned for awhile.

“You could, uh, stay here — if you wanted. Just to lay low for a while. We probably need to file an ex-parte against him. Not that they always work, but it’s a good starting point.” Frankie’s voice is subdued… He sounds like he’s simply running on auto-pilot, trying to figure out what to do next.

You look down and see his hand worrying at his thigh— picking at the frayed material on his jeans. You slowly reach over and as you grab his hand, he lifts his head to look at you.

“Thank you Frankie.” You wished you could find the words to express how grateful you truly were. A simple ‘thank you’ would have to do for now.

“You’re welcome,” comes his reply with a stiff nod of his head.

He’s still holding your hand, engulfing it in his palm. His eyes once again land on your face and his grip tightens.

“What the hell happened?”

“Well, you know the conversation we had where I told you about the circumstances of our marriage? Tom and me?”

Frankie tries and fails to hide his annoyance when he answers with a simple flat,

“yes.”

Of course he remembers. He couldn’t NOT remember even when he tells himself he needs to forget. To let it go. That there’s nothing he can do about it.

“Apparently, someone overheard you telling Will about it. And it got back to Tom somehow. He obviously knew that I was the one that told you. No one was supposed to know about it.”

He reaches out and very lightly puts his hand against your right cheek —his thumb barely tracing under your eye.

“Then why did you tell me? Why was I allowed to know?” Frankie blurts it out before he can stop himself as if you were at fault, but he doesn’t actually believe that. He feels as though he knows the reason you shared it with him, but he doesn’t want to speak for you. As much as he wants it to be, Frankie knows that your situation makes it all but impossible.

He lightly moves your chin to the left then to the right to compare. The right side definitely took the brunt of it, he thinks. He looks down and shakes his head.

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I.. I never meant….”

He looks back up to you and his eyes are red rimmed and pleading.

“It’s ok Frankie. It’s ok.”

“No… no it’s not ok. He fucking hurt you, he…. Because I couldn’t handle it and just keep my thoughts to myself! I.. What if you.. what if you hadn’t been able to call me?”

His eyes look panicked and his breathing picks up.

“What would he have done, if I hadn’t shown up??”

“Frankie, it’s ok. I’m ok.”

You try to be reassuring, but the fact is, you don’t know the answer to his question.

Frankie slowly lifts his hand back to your cheek and gently swipes his thumb across your bottom lip. You look up and put your hand on his, rubbing down his forearm and back up a few times in a comforting manner. He scoots closer to you and pulls you into his side. When you look back up at him, his eyes are closed tightly like he’s trying to prevent himself from breaking down.

That feeling between you, the one that you have been trying to ignore for weeks, refuses to be overlooked any longer. How at ease you felt with him —you began looking forward to Wednesdays for more than just the break it gave you from Tom, but you hadn’t ever given voice to those thoughts. You enjoyed having adult conversations with someone other than your mother, even though you were grateful for your time spent with her also. Frankie made you feel a little more alive without you even realizing it.

He talked to you, not down to you or at you. He would ask your opinion on something and seemed to genuinely enjoy your company as much as you enjoyed his.

He was your friend. An actual friend who cared about you and who you cared about as well, much more than you wanted to admit.

You don’t know exactly when it shifted into more, but right now, all you can think about is how close he is to you. How you can smell his light cologne mixed with what you can only describe as the outdoors, that always seems to linger on him. How much warmth his body puts off especially with how chilly it is in the cab. You couldn’t stop looking at him if you tried, but you’re not exactly trying either.

He breathes out through his mouth slowly and opens his eyes, looking down. He sees that you’re already looking up at him and he smiles —just a little half smile that shows off the dimple in his right cheek. The dimple that you’ve caught yourself taking notice of on more than one occasion.

He takes his hand and brushes a stray piece of hair behind your ear, ever mindful of your bruised cheek. You reach up and grab his hand and slowly open his palm and intertwine your fingers…. His other hand moves to the left side of your head and he gently nudges you forward.

His eyes are still on you. You feel completely safe right here with him and you know that you hold the control.

He has always been so delicate with you— the kind you never got with Tom, but it made you feel powerful. Like what you had to say mattered. That you actually mattered. Your thoughts, and your worries— They all mattered to Frankie.

So, you take that control and allow his hand to nudge you just that much further until your forehead touches his. His eyes close immediately and he draws in a shaky breath.

On exhale, his eyes open up and you almost miss his whispered breath of your name.

You cut him off with a quick nod and then, that’s it.

Just like that, the little bit of space between you is closed and you shut your eyes as his lips meet yours for the first time.

Neither of you move, as you both adjust to being this close… instead letting yourselves feel the other this way.

His lips are warm, a soft caress to your sensitive mouth. —Your whole face still stinging from earlier.

Frankie’s lips part, but they don’t leave you… He’s just breathing you in. His facial hair is tickling your nose just so and it makes you giggle lightly.

He smiles and brings his lips back together, pushing more firmly against your own this time. Your mouth opens slightly and it’s like he’s ripped the air straight out of you as you feel his tongue gently peek out to taste your lips. Your tongue responds automatically and meets him there.

The second you get a taste, you lose all sense of everything except this. Your other hand, not currently intertwined with his, grabs his cheek, lightly playing with his scruff there. Your lips slam against his and you drink him in. He responds the same… His tongue is tentatively demanding entry into your mouth and you let him in.

When you feel Frankie’s tongue softly lapping at your own, you think you’re going insane. You want him everywhere. You want to breathe him inside of you and never let him out.

You nip at his bottom lip and Frankie groans. His free hand is resting on your thigh, but is moving up higher, slowly. He brings it up and grasps your side softly and the heat from his hand radiates through your shirt.

And just as quickly, he stops. He pulls back from you, but his hand is still on your side. When you look, you notice his eyes are focused on his hand.

Being this far into your pregnancy, you don’t really think about it anymore when you feel random kicks and pains etc —But Frankie wouldn’t have any idea. He doesn’t have any children of his own and this is the first time he’s touched you like this. By his reaction alone you can only assume that he’s never experienced this before with anyone else. You look back up at him and you can’t determine the look on his face… Is he horrified?

“Frankie?” You ask softly… He looks at you then, his hand never leaving you…

“I just felt something…”

“Have you never felt a baby kick before?”

Frankie shakes his head no with a look of absolute wonderment on his face now. He takes his other hand and lays it on your other side.

You slowly bring both of his hands around until they encompass your entire belly.

—He looks terrified, but he hasn’t said anything. You feel the baby kick again and he lets out a shaky breath.

“I, God, you’re beautiful..” He takes a minute and just looks at your belly while still caressing it tenderly with his hands, his genuine smile endears him to you some even more.

But, then you see the change in his face once everything finally registers with him. His features go from that of adoration to almost anger. He looks up at you…

“Tom. He— That piece of shit laid his hands on you.” He says it with a bite of finality.

It’s a fact that Frankie is realizing now while holding you. Your unborn child at the forefront of his mind when the thought never even crossed Tom’s.

“How could he do this? I know about this thing between you. I get it… You told me. But is there something else I’m missing?” He looks genuinely lost..

“It doesn’t fucking matter regardless because nothing can excuse what he did to you.”

He removes his hands from your waist, pulling his hat up and running a hand through his hair.

“I’m going to make this right.”

“What do you mean Frankie?” You know he means well, but it was fruitless. What could he possibly do to change any of this?

“I mean I’m going to fix this. I’m going to protect you.”

You can’t help the scoff that escapes you at the promise. You’re not trying to be rude in any way, but it just comes out.

“What?” Frankie’s confused, but it’s not his fault.

“It’s nothing. I’ve just heard those exact same words before and look where it got me? I’m married to a man that I’ve never loved —not even close. I’m pregnant with his child that he is going to use against me at every turn and I have a mother who is going to end up deported and disgraced if Tom decides he’s done with me. And after THIS? What’s going to stop him?!”

Your thoughts are coming out of your mouth as soon as they enter your mind….

“I, I have to go back??” You whisper to yourself.

“Oh my God, oh my God, Frankie —Frankie my mother!! —Please, I need you to take me back!” You’re half frantic… the worry in your voice makes Frankie cringe inwardly.

“No.” Is all he says.

“Frankie, I can’t let anything happen to her. Please—”

You are begging now. Your rational mind is all but gone and all you think about now is stopping Tom from doing something you can’t undo.

Frankie looks at you and the worry on his face is evident.

“But what about you? What about your baby? You think he’s just going to be ok with everything and pretend like nothing happened? He hurt you… I’m not just going to take you back to him.”

“Frankie, please. I can.. I can take care of myself. I appreciate your concern and I am beyond grateful you came today. But I have been dealing with Tom this long, and I can manage it now.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you know how idiotic it sounds. You are just as scared for yourself and the baby, but Tom wouldn’t actually hurt a child would he?

You know it’s not something you can keep up forever. There will be a turning point, but you just need to stay strong until you figure out something else.

Frankie shakes his head and looks forward.

“So what about— this?” He motions between the two of you. It’s selfish. He knows it is. The more pressing issue is your safety and trying to convince you not to go back. But he has to say something. Just to see where you’re at.

“Do we just forget about it? Tom isn’t going to let me anywhere near you after this. I can’t willingly let you go back knowing what he’s done. If something were to happen to you and I allowed you to go back with him? It’d be my fault. I can’t. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You see where he is coming from, but you have to do this. There’s no other way at this moment. So you say the only thing you know he won’t argue with—

“But this is the choice I’m making Frankie. You have always respected me. More than anyone I’ve known. You’ve always let me make my own decisions. This is my choice—I….” Your voice starts to break.

You are so torn. You don’t want Tom. You never have. But you need more time to come up with another plan. You know that this decision will keep you from Frankie. Even before your kiss, you had enjoyed your time with him as a friend —He made you feel like a person and never asked for anything in return. This was going to hurt, and you hated to make him worry, but you had to do this.

“I need you to take me back.”

Frankie sees the resolve on your face and knows there’s no argument. He knows that nothing he says will change your mind.

Fucking Tom…. He’s got her so screwed up —Why is she doing this? His thoughts run away from him.

So many questions. He’s so conflicted. This is your life and you should be able to make your own decisions —even as reckless as they seem, Frankie had no right to stop you. He could try to change your mind, but the decision was yours.

“I can’t stop you, if it’s what you want. I will respect your decision, even if I don’t agree with it. But please, please, don’t hesitate to call me. Just let me know that you’re safe.”

“I will Frankie. Thank you.”

He nods once and grips the steering wheel, before starting the engine and backing out of the driveway.

You don’t realize how cold you are until the warm air from the vents starts to fog up the windshield. The adrenaline from the day has worn off, and you start shivering —It was later in the afternoon and you wanted to be back before dark if possible, but before long Frankie slows the truck to another stop.

You look up at the sound of your name to see Frankie staring down at his lap. When he looks over at you, he puts his hand over yours, just letting it rest there. You look down at your hands now and think about how nice this feels. Something so simple, just holding your hand. His palm is warm. Your small hand fitting easily within his grasp.

“Can I ask you something?”

You nod.

“This can’t happen again, can it..” Another statement. Another fact he’s realizing. Another selfish question that he already knows the answer to. Your nod of disappointment only confirms the truth of it.

“Tom is going to be worse and more controlling than before, I’m worried I won’t even be able to see my mother on Wednesdays. But, I have to try Frankie. I have to figure this out on my own.”

“But you don’t have to do it alone — Please, let me help you…”

“Frankie, please don’t.”

He shakes his head, but it has no merit.

“Ok, I’m sorry. But I’m here and all you have to do is let me know and I’ll be there.”

The next words come out without you even realizing it as you brush his hair to the side, “I’m really going to miss you.”

He turns his head into your hand so that your fingers are on his lips —He kisses your fingertips and a tear escapes down your cheek.

Frankie grabs your hand and pulls you to him slowly. He wipes your tears away and kisses your lips. It’s full of everything he wants, but can’t bring himself to say. Don’t leave. Stay. Don’t do this. Don’t go back. And finally—

—I’m going to miss you too.

Frankie’s kiss becomes more frantic. He’s trying to soak up as much of you as possible. He’s saying goodbye.

By the time you finally pull apart, your cheeks are wet and your eyes are puffy. Neither of you are ready to let go, but you have to — You have to get back and deal with the reality of your situation.

—

The drive is over before you’re even close to being ready. The sun is just starting to set when Frankie pulls into your driveway.

Tom's truck is gone and you breathe a sigh of relief at having some time to compose yourself. When you look over at Frankie, you grab his arm, lightly squeezing in reassurance. He grabs your hand then, and brings it to his lips, placing a long wistful kiss against your skin. He never breaks eye contact with you, until you slowly pull your hand away to open your door and he clears his throat.

“I’ll uh, I’ll be here. Just be safe. Please.”

His words are short and clipped like he’s just trying to get through this as quickly as possible.

“I will. Thank you Frankie.”

Frankie’s nod is curt before he faces forward again and you know it’s what you deserve for doing this to him. It stings, but you don’t fault him for it. You didn’t really give him a choice.

You give a slight nod back before getting out of the truck and closing the door. You wave one last goodby before heading up the porch steps and going inside. You don’t look back and as soon as you hear his truck pull away, the tears flow freely and you just let yourself take it all in. You slowly sink to the floor with your head buried in your hands. This wasn’t fair. You’ve never allowed yourself anything. Always putting someone else before you — you deserved to be happy too. There had to be some way to end this. Without your mother suffering the consequences.

You slowly gather your thoughts together until you hear the sound of Tom’s truck pulling into the driveway. You stand up, slowly bracing yourself for whatever was going to happen next.

—

Taglist: @boliv-jenta @heythere-mel @harriedandharassed @just-here-for-the-moment @queridopascal-main @sunnysidekit @bitchwitch1981 @hnt-escape @littlemisspascal @dashavau @something-tofightfor @imaswellkid @quica-quica-quica @mymo-n @autumnleaves1991-blog

A/N: So, our first present day interaction with Tom…. How we feelin??

😬😬😬

I live for questions, reblogs, or feedback of any kind, so please let me know what you think !!

As always thank you so much for reading and let me know if you would like to be added/removed from the Taglist!

[sunnysidekit]

Amaryllis

Chapter Two: Wednesday

Pairing: Frankie x f!Reader

WC: 4.7K

Warnings: Mostly fluff and a little angst…

Summary: Something, no, make that someone, throws a wrench in your normal weekly routine.

A/N: This was originally posted as a Writer Wednesday entry well over a year ago and was the first chapter I completed for this story. The concept is the same, but some words/phrases have been changed. You can read the original Writer Wednesday post HERE.

Tom knows that you go see your mother in the City every Wednesday… You go and spend the day taking her around to do her shopping, Doctor appointments etc and you have to go see your OBGYN once a month anyway, so it all works out. You started getting pretty bad anxiety within the last couple of years or so… Your arrangement taking its toll, but Tom would never let you see a counselor or therapist because he fears what you would tell them. Even though revealing the inner workings of your life would put at risk the one person you were doing this all for in the first place… So you avoid the conversation entirely and go every week just to get some things off your chest, since you would have no one else to talk to otherwise.

Today, you go for your regularly scheduled appointment. 9:30 am every week without fail. As soon as you walk in you see a familiar face, currently nose deep in a magazine. You keep walking forward and take a seat. You open your book and try not to make it obvious that you’re hiding your face.

Tom isn’t aware of these appointments, which is why you felt safe having them at all since they took place over an hour out of town. You’ve been coming regularly and never once has there been an issue with seeing someone either you or Tom knew. Until today…. Today, Tom’s friend Frankie is sitting in the waiting area, left foot resting on his knee, thumbing through the pages of the standard medical magazine set out for patients' to help pass the time. So far, he has yet to notice you. You let out a breath and continue flipping through the pages of your book.

Apparently Frankie is early to his appointment, because even though he was here well before you, your name is called loud and clear. Of course, Frankie hears your last name and he looks up at you then. He just smiles and waves a friendly hello, and—

Nothing else happens. The world doesn’t suddenly combust at him seeing you. So you wave back a little awkwardly and make your way to the nurse waiting at the door to take you back for your appointment.

The hour is over way too soon and when you walk out, thankfully the waiting area is empty of Frankie. So you quickly make your way to your car and head to see your mother and carry on with your regular Wednesday routine.

You’re hoping that there would be no reason for Frankie to bring it up to Tom… Like ‘hey man, saw your wife today at the therapist’s office…..” etc etc… there should be no reason for him to, so you force yourself to let it go. Thankfully, Tom never says anything (you know he would if he knew) so you go about the rest of your week as normal.

Next week rolls around and you show up extra early for your appointment, hoping like hell that you would be called before Frankie even showed up. If he showed up at all.. There was no reason for you to believe that he had a regular schedule like yours. It was just a one off and you needed to stop worrying about it. And you did… That is until Frankie walks out of the doors as he was finished with his own appointment.. How had you never seen him here before when you’d been coming for so long?

Frankie spots you this time and walks over to you slowly to say hello…. “You’re Tom’s wife right?” You nod quietly. “I thought that was you last week, but I wasn't sure. I’d never seen you in here before, but my appointment last week got pushed back for some scheduling issue… So I…” he slows down his words… “I guess I normally wouldn’t have.”

He’s rambling. Frankie is cringing internally at the realization, but you hardly pay it any notice when your own thoughts are doing much the same. —So that explains it. And you just HAD to show up early to your own appointment this time trying to AVOID him..

You still haven’t said anything so the silence quickly becomes awkward… “Well it was good seeing you. Uh, tell Tom I said ‘hey.’” And with that, he leaves you to stare blankly at his back as he leaves the office. Again, you’re hoping that there would be no reason for this to get back to Tom. Thankfully, it doesn’t.

Next week you go to your appointment at the normal time… He said it himself that his regular appointment was earlier than yours, so you just needed to go like you normally would and everything would be fine… And you’re right. You go in and he’s not there. You get called back and go into your appointment, breathing a quick sigh of relief.

When your hour is up, you walk out and he’s still not there. Again, you let go of the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, and make your way to your car with a smile on your face.

The air is cool and the sun is shining when you exit the building and you are ready to take on the rest of the day… Refreshed that your anxiety was unnecessary, only to curse the ground at your misfortune because apparently the universe hated you and enjoyed your misery…..

Walking up to your car, you see the back passenger’s side tire is now flatter than a pancake. “Shit,” you let the word escape your lips quietly, shaking your head as you think about your options:

Option number one: You change the tire. This would be great if you had any knowledge whatsoever on HOW to change a tire.

Option number two: You call your husband—Well if you called him, he would want to know why you were parked at the Doctor’s office, and also without your mother, you instantly decide against it, which leaves you with option number three….

You do nothing.

You look out across the parking lot and continue to ponder your poor options when you notice a little diner across the street. You decide to just take a breath and grab a coffee and maybe something to eat while you figure things out. You call your mom to let her know; she doesn't own a vehicle which is why you made the weekly trip up here. Fortunately, she was still stocked up on food and she didn’t see her own doctor until next week, so you not making it today shouldn’t hurt anything.

So, you make your way over to the diner. You honestly think the City is beautiful… all of the buildings, nothing like in your town. Everything was so big and open.. You missed it a lot….

When you step inside, the door has a little bell that dings signaling a new customer. You walk to the front and wait to be seated. You just want a few minutes of quiet so you ask for the secluded booth over in the corner. Perfect. You sit and order a coffee with cream and sugar and pick up a menu and attempt to let your mind relax.

The funny thing about anxiety is that letting your mind relax is the equivalent of asking a toddler to sit still…. They may WANT to, but their little bodies just have so much pent up energy that despite your effort they HAVE to move… Your anxious thoughts immediately take over—

‘How am I going to get this settled without letting Tom know?’

‘I wonder what would happen if I just stayed here… Forever?’ ‘No, no, can’t do that’

‘I really like this mug’ ‘Do I want a sandwich? Or maybe some soup?’

‘Hmm, the guy at the counter has a pretty nice back… snug jacket, broad shoulders and faded jeans. Dark brown curls peeking out from underneath his ball cap… Oh my God! That’s Frankie!!’

You curse to yourself, which apparently wasn’t really to yourself, when your very audible gasp is heard near the front, to which said object of your attention turns and immediately lays eyes on you. His face actually seems to light up… You wonder why that is? You also notice how flush you suddenly feel for shamelessly admiring his back side, not knowing at all who it was as if he could hear your thoughts.

He’s making his way over and lucky you, you’re cornered in your little secluded booth… ‘Breathe…. Breathe…’ you tell yourself until you hear “Hey there,” Frankie is upbeat and to anyone else looking, you seem to be catching up with a friend. “Hi Frankie,” you say softly.

“Funny seeing you here… if you weren’t married to Tom, I’d think I had a stalker,” he says in a joyful tone, but the wild deer caught in headlights look on your face has him apologizing almost immediately. “Sorry, just kidding… Promise! —But I will say, I’ve run into you the last three weeks in a row now…” He’s looking at you with a question on his tongue, but he won’t ask it. So you answer for him. “My mother lives here in the City, so I help take her around on Wednesdays.”

“Must’ve just missed each other before then.” He smiles before saying “well it was good seeing you.” He seems to hesitate before adding, “Hope you have a good day.” He goes to leave and you suddenly remember your current dilemma….

”Wait, Frankie?” He turns to you, a look of confusion on his face, “actually, I’ve run into some trouble with my car. The tire is flat. Is there um, any way you could help me figure out how to get it home?”

It takes him a moment to respond… like his gears are turning, but he finally answers you, “oh, uh yeah, sure. I’d be happy to.”

God you sound like an idiot, Frankie chastises himself.. Why are you making this awkward? Well, she’s beautiful, you dumbass, and you’re fucking awkward— His running commentary matches your own, unbeknownst to you.

“Ok, so where are you parked?” Frankie tries to curb his thoughts by just addressing the task at hand.

“Across the street…” You point in the general direction of the office building, “at Dr. Pomater���s office.”

“Oh, that’s right. I usually come over here for a late breakfast after my appointment.” Frankie is annoyed at himself— she doesn’t care, she just needs your help.

Also food… She just got here, there’s no way she’s already eaten..

“Did you um, want to eat first? I noticed you only have a coffee..”

“Oh, I uh, well yes. I guess I haven't gotten the chance to order yet.” —Frankie thinks your light accent is endearing. It’s not super thick or put on, but almost makes you sound elegant, which he would argue matches you pretty well.

“But you’ve already eaten, I’d hate to keep you any longer than necessary. I can just eat when I get back home.” Your stomach chooses that exact moment to growl, like the traitor it is…. Frankie notices.

“Nah, I don’t mind. I’m off on Wednesdays so I’m free. I actually could go for another cup of coffee, if you don’t mind the company.”

You smile slightly at that and say “Ok, well would you like to sit? I will try to order and finish quickly.”

“There’s really no rush, go ahead and take your time and we can talk about our options for getting you back up and running.”

You agree and so you both sit in your booth across from each other… You decide to go ahead with the soup and sandwich combo, sneaking a peek over the top of your menu before the waitress comes back over —Frankie is looking down at his own menu… He’s wearing a light gray t-shirt, the material thin, but not worn. He’s got his jacket on as he was about to leave before your squeak of surprise at seeing him alerted him of your presence. One thing you hadn’t noticed about him before were the thick rimmed black glasses he was wearing now. Had he been wearing those before? After a moment you notice he takes them off and puts them in his inner jacket pocket and sets down his menu. So just reading glasses then, you suppose… You think to yourself how they give him a very boyish quality that makes you smile inwardly. You definitely should NOT be noticing this, so you look back down at your menu.

The waitress makes her way to you and takes your order. Frankie orders his coffee with cream and sugar… Hmm… You think how Tom would never drink anything unless it resembled something akin to freshly laid tarmac, claiming it “separated the men from the boys” or some other ridiculous admonition.

You notice Frankie looking at you and shit, did he ask me something?

“Hmm?”

He smiles slightly at that and you notice a dimple in his right cheek… Again, noticing things you shouldn’t…. His chuckle breaks you out of your head yet again as he says “I was just wondering where Tom was today?”

“Oh, Tom is uh..” your frustration at the question prevents you from answering right away. This was the entire reasoning for your anxiety toward Frankie seeing you. You couldn’t afford for Tom to find out about these appointments and put a stop to them. The small amount of peace of mind it provides you with, gets you through the week and you’re just not ready to lose that yet.

“Um, well Tom he uh, usually works on Wednesdays… shows his houses.”

—His brow furrows slightly like he can sense your hesitation, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Gotcha, yeah I haven’t seen him since that fight night awhile back….” The night I met you he reminds himself. “That was a pretty fun night…. First time I got to see the guys in a while.”

—Your stomach clenches at the memory of Tom on that night, but you’ve gotten good at hiding your disgust by now, “yeah — Um so is there an auto repair place nearby or…? I honestly know nothing about cars,” you laugh nervously, hoping he doesn’t notice your obvious shift in conversation away from Tom.

Your waitress then makes her way back over with your food and Frankie’s coffee. He takes a long sip and you start in on your soup.

—“Do you have a spare? I’ve got my jack in the truck. I could probably just change it for you.”

You feel like an idiot, but answer honestly, “I really don’t know. I’m sorry.” You give a nervous laugh and Frankie chuckles. He’s not making fun of you, but he thinks it adds to your charm.

He chuckles again and shakes his head a little, shrugging off a thought…

—‘This is Tom’s wife man, get a hold of yourself..’

He continues to shake the thought from his mind and moves on — “What kind of car do you have?”

‘Real smooth’ —

“Oh, it’s a… I’m really not sure…”

“That’s ok. We’ll figure it out. It’s probably in the tire well like most.”

—Your blank stare makes him cough and regroup, “I mean that there are some that have them underneath, but most sedans have them in the trunk.” Still nothing — You would be embarrassed, but you were genuinely just confused. Tom ensured that you were only knowledgeable in things meant to be handled by women like cooking and cleaning house. “Let the men handle things sweetie,” Tom would say when it came to just about anything etc.

“It’s ok,” he laughs again, but it doesn’t have the condescension attached to it that you’d come to expect from Tom. You think to yourself that it’s a nice sound coming from Frankie.

“I think I know where to find it and how to get you going again.” He smiles at you again and you say a quiet “thank you” as you go to finish the remainder of your meal in a comfortable silence.

Frankie is looking out the window now…The view from the diner overlooks a little park and you think the colored leaves against the still green grass is beautiful… Fall has always been your favorite season and you thank the Lord that the majority of your pregnancy will be in the cooler months.

After a bit, your waitress walks over and asks “is there anything else I can get y’all today?”

“No thank you,” you and Frankie both say at the same time, pulling another light chuckle out of Frankie and a smile from the waitress. She finishes writing out your check then puts it face down on the table and scoots the paper toward Frankie.

You both reach for it at the same time again and while his gets to it first, you go in and lightly swat at his hand saying “no sir….” And you wiggle a finger at him. “You’re already fixing my car…. The least I could do is pay for your coffee.”

He tries to come up with some quip to keep the lightness going but falls short and just puts his hands up in a mock surrender. Broken pride and all — he’s not upset; far from it actually, but he can’t help the small pout that makes him look offended… the sly look in his eyes tells you he’s only playing though, and you lift your chin in triumph at your little win.

It takes him a moment to remember that this is a completely abnormal situation whereas he is with his friend’s — No not his actual friend - his mentor maybe? He doesn’t really know what Tom even is to him anymore. All he knows is that —this is Tom’s wife and you’re simply having coffee and he is going to help you get your car running—

Frankie’s thoughts are interrupted when you stand up and say “come on, follow me.” He trails behind you - the awkwardness coming back slightly.

You pay the bill and walk toward the exit. Frankie follows and you both head outside into the crisp Fall air. You start to walk toward your car that’s parked across the street when Frankie stops you —

“Uh, my truck is over here. We can just drive over if you’d like?”

“Ok,” is all you say. Why is this so awkward? You already find yourself missing the ease of the diner.

He is just a friend of Tom’s helping you get to your car… Nothing to worry about.

Frankie’s truck is kind of what you’d expect — it’s an older looking truck. You have no idea of the model, just that it’s aged. -Brown with tan lines down the sides — almost matching his jacket. The inside is clean, but the interior is worn.. it smells of gas and oil, with a little hint of vanilla from the little tree air freshener hanging from the rear view mirror. When you first opened the passenger door, there was a horrible creaky sound that you were well used to. Your Papá used to have a truck similar to this and the thought makes you smile.

“She’s a little old, but she takes good care of me,” Frankie says warmly. His adoration for the truck is evident in his tone. His hand worries at his scruffy chin and he asks “ready to go?” You quickly nod and close your door.

The drive to your car is short — Neither of you say anything other than an “over there” as you point to which car is yours.

So when Frankie asks you if you’ve called Tom yet you jump… unsure if it’s an accusation or just from the question as a whole.

“No, I didn’t want to bother him. He’s usually very busy.” Frankie almost scoffs at that.

“What?” You ask him. He almost seemed annoyed.

“I don’t know why it would bother him to hear from his wife when she has a problem. I’d hope he would want to make sure you’re ok. Make sure you get home safely.”

Frankie is having a hard time keeping his mouth shut…. Tom very rarely mentioned you unless prompted when the guys got together… and before he met you it didn’t really matter… but having spent just this short amount of time with you today, it makes his blood boil. He doesn’t have words to voice the why behind that quite yet.

You honestly don’t know what to say to that. Tom was never like that with you for obvious reasons, but Frankie wouldn’t know that.

“Well — Ok, so you see…” you sigh… there was no other way to do this. Unless you said otherwise, there was no way this wouldn’t get brought up to Tom. Not about the car, but the where. You wanted to be honest. You wanted to be able to talk with someone about your situation, but you couldn’t. Not about everything anyway. Not yet.

“Frankie, can I say something? Without judgement and without this getting back to Tom?” He nods. The confusion is clear on his face… “Would it be ok if this just stayed between us?” You motion between the two of you. “About the Doctor I mean..?” He’s still looking confused. Similar to how you must’ve looked when he was talking to you about cars.

“Tom doesn’t know that I see Dr. Pomater. He’s never believed in Therapy and thinks it’s a waste of time and money,” — ‘amongst other things’ you think to yourself.

“He wouldn’t be happy to know that I’ve been seeing one. But to me, just having someone to talk to that is unbiased and non-judgemental? It helps me feel better.” You know you sound childish, but it’s the truth and Frankie holds all the cards here.

After a moment you hear Frankie respond. “So he just thinks you’re taking care of your mother on Wednesdays?” He looks up at you at the question.

“I do take care of my mother.. She doesn’t speak English well and she doesn’t own a vehicle, so she needs assistance getting groceries and getting to and from Doctor’s appointments. It also allows me to spend more time with her since I moved out of the city.”

Frankie nods — He seems to be processing.

“So, Tom doesn’t like the thought of a therapist, or he won’t let you have one?”

“I, um… I..” you trail off.

You look down, breathe in then out through your nose. You look back up at him and —he must know how Tom is… “Tom, he… No.” And you leave it at that.

You look away and start unbuckling your seatbelt— Frankie says your name and you turn back to him to see this look…. It’s a mesh of worry and concern, but also something else you can’t put a name to. His lips are parted like he just paused mid-sentence — “Does Tom…? I mean — Tom has never really told any of us much about you. Is he, uh, is he ok? To you?”

You’re not liking where this is heading.. Frankie continues…

“When we were in the service, he was my Team Lead and I’ve always respected him for his position. We’ve all managed to keep in touch for the sake of all the shit we’ve been through together. But through all of it, we didn’t even know you existed until a couple of years ago…”

Shaking his head, he starts again.. “To say we were shocked to learn that he had a wife—was a fucking understatement.”

“Where are you going with this Frankie?”

Upon hearing his name, he stops and looks at you…. “How did you and Tom meet?”

“It was a long time ago. I believe we met at the grocery store. He was in line behind me and my mother.”

“When did you get married? He never told us anything until about two years ago… during our last deployment.”

“Um, six, almost seven years ago… Yes, it will be seven years in March.” Nope no this is not good……

“How old are you—?” He says your name at this to really stick the question….

“Twe— I’m twenty-five.”

“So you were 18 when you got married? How long did you know each other before that?” Frankie can’t seem to stop the words from leaving his mouth…

You think he is almost accusatory in his questioning and you’re unsure of where all of this emotion is coming from.

“Frankie, these are very personal questions… Why do you need to know this?”

“Sorry — I’m sorry.” He looks down and takes a breath. He immediately looks like he feels terrible for even asking and waits a few moments before starting again— He’s struggling with his words— wanting so much to understand what exactly is going on, but he knows he hasn’t earned that right yet. He feels terrible and hopes that he hasn’t offended you.

Frankie takes a stuttered breath, “it was inappropriate to ask you those questions and for that I’m sorry. I just don’t understand him sometimes. You think you know a lot about a person when you work side by side with them in life or death situations like we did, but turns out I don’t know much about him at all. I’m sorry…”

You dislike the look on his face… the despair of a situation you know absolutely nothing about is clear, so you try to lighten the mood…

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t know much about him either…”

You get a small laugh at that so you take it as a win.

After another minute or two of semi-awkward silence, Frankie moves to get out of the truck.. “Well let’s see what we’re working with here.”

He grabs his jack out of the back of the truck and makes his way over to your car. You pop the button to the trunk and he easily finds your spare. He goes back to the bed of his truck and looks around for a moment and comes back with this X looking tool. You can tell he’s done this before, many times, and you flush at how ignorant you must’ve sounded to him… shaking your head, you just let it go… You don’t feel like Frankie is judging you for what you lack in tire changing etiquette, so you turn and watch him to see if you could maybe even learn a few things.

Frankie takes off his jacket after he gets the car partially up off the ground — taking the X tool and beginning to remove the bolts from the hubcap.

He’s so quick and efficient, he makes it look easy. As Frankie is crouched down, you notice a little bit of sweat at the small of his back that’s dampened his thin t-shirt slightly.. You also notice that the material hugs his torso and makes a show of the muscles in his back and shoulders as he keeps himself steady. The muscles in his arms flexing as he grunts slightly with the exertion to loosen the bolts… it has to be the hormones that are making you focus on entirely the wrong thing, but….

No, you need to look away, so you try to find something else to focus on while he finishes.

Looking up you begin to silently name each thing you see, desperately trying to keep your focus away from Frankie’s backside— blue sky, birds, leaves, trees, more trees, there’s a couple walking their dog, a mother pushing a stroller….. You go so far as to start listing the color of each new vehicle that passes by…

This is ridiculous— you think to yourself. You’re a grown woman and you can handle this.

You turn back around, just as Frankie is standing up. The tire is on and he’s wiping his hands off on his jeans. “I think we got it all done.”

“Thank you so much Frankie— Really, I truly appreciate it.”

“You're welcome,” he smiles back at you.

“How can I repay you?”

“You bought me coffee, remember? We’re even.”

“No seriously, coffee doesn’t count.”

“Ok fine, how about you pay me back with a second coffee next week? And maybe a donut?”

You tense slightly at the thought because you know how that looks…. But you shake the thought away because you should be allowed to have a friend. And coffee with a friend should be ok. Right??

“Alright, you’ve got yourself a deal. I’ll see you next week then.”

He quirks a small smile and nods, “see you next week—.”

Your name sounds so soft coming from his mouth that you instantly blush, turning quickly to walk around to the drivers side and get in. He’s already back to his truck before he offers a small wave. You smile and wave back, starting the car to head to your Mother’s and continue on with your day. The smile never leaving your face as you drive away.

******

A/N: I’ve been playing with the wording of this chapter just trying to get it to flow the right way, but I feel like I’m running in circles with it so here it is lol As always please let me know if you would like to be tagged or if you would like to be removed from the tag list. Thanks for reading!

Tag List:

@just-here-for-the-moment @boliv-jenta @heythere-mel @sunnysidekit @wildemaven @harriedandharassed @bitchwitch1981 @hnt-escape @autumnleaves1991-blog @queridopascal-main @queridopascal @quica-quica-quica @littlemisspascal

[sunnysidekit]

it is all chaos and entropy. the thing is that the chaos and entropy make it beautiful and lovely.

yes, it's true that nature and the universe are uncaring and unspecific, and that is terrifying. i have lived through some of the unfairness - i got born like this, with my body caving into itself, with this ironic love of dance when i sometimes can't stand up for longer than 15 minutes. i am a poet with hands that are slowly shutting down - i can't hold a pen some days. recently i found a dead bird on our front porch. she had no visible injuries. she had just died, the way things die sometimes.

it is also true that nature and the universe are uncaring and unspecific, and that is wonderful. the sheer happenstance that makes rain turn into a rainbow. the impossible coincidence of finding your best friend. i have made so many mistakes and i have let myself down and i have harmed other people by accident. nature moves anyway. on the worst day of my life she delivers me an orange juice sunset, as if she is saying try again tomorrow.

how vast and unknowing the universe! how small we are! isn't that lovely. the universe has given us flowers and harp strings and the shape of clouds. how massive our lives are in comparison to a grasshopper. the world so bright, still undiscovered. even after 30 years of being on this earth, i learned about a new type of animal today: the dhole.

chance echoing in my life like a harmony between two people talking. do you think you and i, living in different worlds but connected through the internet - do you think we've ever seen the same butterfly? they migrate thousands of miles. it's possible, right?

how beautiful the ways we fill the vastness of space. i love that when large amounts of people are applauding in a room, they all start clapping at the same time. i love that the ocean reminds us of our mother's heartbeat. i love that out of all the colors, chlorophyll chose green. i love the coincidences. i love the places where science says i don't know, but it just happens.

"the universe doesn't care about you!" oh, i know. that's okay. i care about the universe. i will put my big stupid heart out into it and watch the universe feast on it. it is not painful. it is strange - the more love you pour into the unfeeling world, the more it feels the world loves you in return. i know it's confirmation bias. i think i'm okay if my proof of kindness is just my own body and my own spirit.

i buried the bird from our porch deep in the woods. that same day, an old friend reaches out to me and says i miss you. wherever you go, no matter how bad it gets - you try to do good.

[sunnysidekit]

[sunnysidekit]

It is almost five centuries ago, and the girl who will one day be a swordswoman is lying in the red-tinged mud. She can't get up—broken bone? severed tendon? She can't tell. She's yet to cultivate her palate for pain. Her enemy towers over her, a cataphract mailed in screaming steel and poisoned light. His warhammer falls, and it is death, forever death, death unconquered and unconquerable.

"No," says a part of her. She is not even seventeen years old. Her body is mangled and broken, wound piled upon wound piled upon wound. A dull kitchen knife is her only weapon, though she lost that in the mud the second her grip faltered. Her enemy is no thing of this earth. And yet—

"No. It is not death, forever death, death unconquered and unconquerable. It is only a hammer, falling. It is only 'an attack.'"

And the girl understood.

~~~

It is the better part of three centuries ago, as best the swordswoman can reckon, and she is beset on all sides by foes. They are not monsters—just mountain bandits, or highland rebels, as one cares to see it. But they outnumber her by dozens, and even an exceptional swordswoman might struggle against but two opponents of lesser skill.

From in front of her, beside her, behind her they advance, striking from every angle with spears and blades and axes. Others fill the air with arrows, sling stones, firepots. It would be effortless, to parry any single blow. It would be impossible, physically impossible, to defend against them all.

"No," says a part of her.

"You are not outnumbered. You do not face 'multiple' foes. It would be impossible to defend against every attack — but there is no 'every' attack. Only one."

"Oh," the swordswoman said. And it was, in fact, effortless.

~~~

It is eighty years ago, or thereabouts. A coiling spire of stony flesh and verdigrised copper throbs like a tumor on the horizon, coaxed from the earth by spell and sacrifice. It is the tower of a sorcerer-prince, and a birthing place of abominations.

Seven locks of rune-etched metal are opened with her single key. Wretched shapeling beasts, grown by sorcery in vitreous nodules, flee wailing from her, absconding before she even draws her blade. Demons sworn to thousand-year pacts of service find the binding provisions of their agreements unexpectedly severed.

These things dissatisfy the sorcerer-prince. He waxes wroth. He makes signs of power and chants incantations. With a flask of godling's blood, he draws the binding sigil inscribed upon the moon's dark face. With cold fire burning in his eyes, he speaks the secret name of Death. It is a king among curses, all-corrupting, all-consuming, and it falls from his lips upon the swordswoman.

"No," she says, and she turns it aside with her blade.

The sorcerer-prince's brow furrows. How did she even do that?

"Parried it."

But—

"With my sword."

No—

"See, like this."

Stop—

"Well," the swordswoman finally says, "I figured that if I just...looked at it right, and thought about it, and construed your curse as a kind of attack...then I could block it."

That's not how it works at all!

"If you insist," says the swordswoman, shrugging, and decapitates him.

~~~

It is now. It is the end. Death couldn't take the swordswoman, not when she'd spent all her life cutting it up. At times, Death might sidle up to one of her friends, or peer down into a grandchild's crib, and she'd just give it a look. That's all it took, by then.

Heartache couldn't take her, either. Bad things happened to her, and they hurt, and she lived in that hurt, but if it was ever more than she could take...she'd just, move her sword in a way that's difficult to describe. And she'd keep going.

Kingdoms fell, and she kept going. Continents crumbled and sank into the sea. Her planet's star faded and froze. She started carrying a lantern. Universes were torn apart and scattered, until all that had been matter was redistributed in thermodynamic equilibrium. With one exception.

But now it is the end. There is no time left; time is already dead. The swordswoman has outlived reality, but there is simply no further she can go. This is not a thing that can be blocked. This is the absence of anything further to block.

"No," says the girl who will one day be a swordswoman. "This isn't the ending. And even if it was, it's not the ending that matters."

The swordswoman looks back at who she was, at the countless selves she's been between them. She looks forward, at the rapidly contracting point that remains of the future. She grasps the all of linear time in her mind, and sees that it is shaped like a spear.

[sunnysidekit]

All the Time in the World

Summary: It's half past eight on a Sunday morning, and you're not the only one awake.

Pairing: Will ‘Ironhead’ Miller x f!Reader (no y/n)

Warnings: Sexual content. Minors, please skip this one!

Word count: 1.4 k

A/N: So, this is a (sad) attempt of mine to write some filth. Might write a part two someday. Tell me what you think!

My masterlist

You’re not sure what woke you up this morning, but whatever it was happened at half past eight on a Sunday, so your glass wasn’t exactly very full at the moment. You stretched out an arm beside you only to notice that Benny had already gone to the gym. Maybe he’d closed the door a little louder than usual and that was wat had done it.

After some fruitless tossing and turning you finally gave up trying to fall asleep again. It simply wasn’t going to happen. You pushed away the warm, nice, comfortable covers and swung your legs over the edge of the bed. When you looked up, you saw your terrible bed head in Benny’s full-length mirror. Instantly, your half empty glass cracked.

You looked thoroughly fucked. As in, someone could have fucked you till your legs gave out and this would be what you would look like afterwards. Not Benny. While you two routinely slept in the same bed, he’d never even think of touching you. The two of you were friends, nothing more. So, you blamed the short night you’d had as you shuffled off to freshen up a bit in Benny’s bathroom.

It never occurred to you that Will could have been the cause of your early morning. And why would it? At the moment, you were a sleep drunk mess of a woman who would have killed Benny if it meant you’d get to sleep in a little longer. Yet your mind did flit to memories of last night as you stepped into the shower.

The first thing you saw when you closed your eyes was Will almost dropping the crate of beer he was carrying to the kitchen. You’d climbed over the back of the couch to wrap him up in a hug since you hadn’t seen him in a while. You distinctly remember pressing your face into his hoodie right between his shoulder blades, and feeling his muscles move while he set the crate down on the table. He smelt like he’d stepped right out of a bonfire – which was probably because he’d just come from some guy’s housewarming barbecue. Benny had told you that when you arrived.

You let the hot water cascade down your body and sighed. While you’d only ever thought of Benny as a friend or perhaps even a brother, Will was another thing entirely. That rumble in his chest you felt when he greeted you last night, along with the stout curve of his hips against yours made you weak in the knees, even if you didn’t like to admit it. Even now, as you stood in the shower, you felt your face flush with warmth from just thinking about that moment.

You shook your head and opened your eyes. No need to stay in never-never land. You turned the knob and toweled off in silence, thinking only of what to have for breakfast. Maybe you’d be able to find a wayward slice of bread you could toast between all of Benny’s protein shakes. He probably had some eggs you could scramble, as well. Did Will still like scrambled eggs on toast? If he hadn’t gone with Benny, and if he was also already awake, the two of you could, perhaps, have breakfast together.

You plucked a pair of sweats and a hoodie from Benny’s closet, put them on and finally checked your phone. As expected, Benny had already texted you multiple times to tell you about some new gym equipment. Your mother asked if you were going to be coming over anytime soon. One of your friends had tagged you in a picture of a Certified Good Boy. Then you opened the bedroom door and stepped into the hallway – and heard it.

It was soft, yet still very much recognizable as a moan. For some reason you looked back into Benny’s bedroom. Then, when you heard it again, your gaze wandered uncertainly to the front door. You were prepared to look anywhere but the obvious source of the sound, which you very cleverly figured out was none other than Will’s bedroom. Did he have someone over?

You turned on your heel and started towards the living room when you realized that no, he did not have someone over. The next grunt that reached your ears was accompanied by your name. Your eyes shot towards his bedroom door, which you now noticed was slightly ajar. And then you lost control of your own body.

Drawn in by the sounds of his pleasure, you stepped forward towards their origin. Within moments, your hand had pushed the door open a bit further, giving you a full, unobstructed view of Will’s naked form slouched comfortably on his bed. He had headphones on and his eyes were closed, his expression consumed by a lust so raw as you’d never seen before. Yes, there he lay, the man you’d secretly desired for so long, pumping his cock to the tune of your name.

You were so transfixed by the sight you didn’t even notice your phone slipping out of your hand. The dull thud it made as it hit the floor didn’t reach your ears – the only sounds you heard were the ones Will made, along with a shitload of blood rushing from your head to your nether regions – but it did disturb Will. He opened his eyes, his expression changing quickly into one of shock and embarrassment, and instantly covered himself up with his comforter. You said nothing. Did nothing, either. You just watched Will pull off his headphones while an angry red flush spread across his cheeks.

“Jesus Christ, I’m sorry! That wasn’t – I never would have...“ The words spilled from his lips like a waterfall, but the rush you felt drowned it all out.

“You often think of me when you, eh, do that to yourself?”

Will shook his head violently and put up one hand up to reassure you. “No. It’s just – I had – last night you-”

“I do,” you blurted out. Will’s eyes shot up to yours for the second time this morning. His flush didn’t fade, but his expression softened a bit.

“You do,” he said quietly. It seemed as if he didn’t quite know what to think of that. “Really?”

You nodded. “Yes, Will, I do. All the damn time.”

Will stood up now, tucking the comforter around his hips. Your breath hitched in your throat as he slowly walked up to where you stood still as a statue in the doorway. You glanced down to the bulge that protruded from the comforter, then let your gaze rake slowly back to his face. Not for the first time you came to the conclusion that Will was very, very well built.

He stopped right in front of you, tentatively reached out and dragged a knuckle across your throat all the way to your chin. You let him guide you closer to him until your lips almost touched. His one hand came up to cup your cheek while his other found purchase near the small of your back, and without another word he pulled you flush against him and into an exhilarating kiss.

Pure bliss was the only way to describe it. You moaned when he swiped his tongue across your lips and gladly let him in. Will’s hands traveled to the hem of your hoodie and pulled it up, dragging himself away from you for a moment.

“Not going to fuck you in Benny’s clothes,” he said with a grin you eagerly returned. The hoodie found a new home in the hallway, already forgotten. Will’s hands roamed free over your torso, eventually finding and staying near your bare breasts. He chuckled and pulled away from the kiss again. “No bra? I’m such a lucky guy.”

“Not just you,” you said. Your hands had been sliding down his sides, your fingers now fiddling with his comforter. He made no attempt to stop you from throwing it to the side. As you palmed his cock you added, “What were you thinking of doing to me just then, I wonder?”

“Do you want me to tell you,” he said hoarsely, “or should I just show you?”

You gently kicked the door closed and turned the lock behind your back. “Show me, please.”

“Oh, you don’t need to beg for it.” A wicked grin spread across Will’s cheeks as he took you by the hands and pulled you towards the bed. “Going to take my sweet time with you, though.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “Because it’s nine o’clock on a Sunday, and we have all the time in the world.”

[sunnysidekit]

All right, so, I don't know if there's anyone that's going to read this. I do know that I've been inactive for a while - writer's block is murder and I am its exhausted victim! That said, I recently rewatched Triple Frontier and got violently struck in the head by an idea which I'll most likely be posting some time this week.

x Bo

[sunnysidekit]

[sunnysidekit]

Day 16- Frankie doesn't need a compass

[sunnysidekit]

Keep Quiet, Girl

Day 9:  In public (Pero Tovar x F!Reader)

(For the 2021 Kinktober event offered by @beeschaos and @withlove-sid.  The original post and calendar/list can be found here.)  

CW:  Use of the word “wh*re”; smut (PiV; unprotected) 18+ only.

Word Count:  3084

The mercenaries are in Pomerania, hired to aid some petty little lord who wants to extend his border into the territory of the Prussians.

Lees verder

[sunnysidekit]

are you the person that kills the spider, makes someone else kill the spider, or catches and releases the spider outside

[sunnysidekit]

The highlands in Iceland on a beautiful day [OC] [2111x2639] - IG: @glacionaut - Author: jay_march_ on reddit

[sunnysidekit]

i get so fucking cocky after making the bed like hell yeah I've got my life together. i could totally write a novel. if i wanted to

[sunnysidekit]

Thanks for the tag, @gracie7209! It took me a while to figure out who's in my top three, but here they are.

Rules of the Game: Name 3 fictional characters that you’re in love with that are NOT associated with your blog!

1. Tahani al Jamil from 'The Good Place'

2. Ben Hargreeves from 'The Umbrella Academy'

3. David Copperfield from 'The Personal History of David Copperfield'

Not in that particular order, by the way! I love them all equally. Ahem.

No pressure tags: @clydesducktape @letterfromvienna @green-socks @jazzelsaur @radiowallet

Apologies if any of the tags are repeated!

I was tagged by @ionlyjoinedforboydholbrook 💕 thank you so much!

Rules of the game: Name three fictional characters you’re in love with that are NOT associated with your blog.

Walt breslin from narcos:mexico

Fox mulder and Dana Scully from X-files

Tagging mutuals to play this game ☕️ @mitchi-c @walt-breslin @moonlight-prose @mourningbirds1 @insomniamamma @yespolkadotkitty @chibsytelford @seasonschange-butpeopledont

[sunnysidekit]

💕#3 for our lover Santiago

This one’s for you @itspdameronthings. Here’s some fluff for our man Santi. 

We Were Made for Each Other 

Rating: 18 + for language 

Pairing: Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia x Reader 

Trust. No relationship is complete without it. It took a lot of trust to fall in love with a man who didn’t currently live in the country. 

The photos around your apartment spell the beginnings of a happy life and you were...when he was there. Santi had met you on leave one night out when you were out with some girlfriends. You slept together once, and then a few more times the week he was there. Then he was gone.

 Every few months he would come back and pick up the pieces of where you left off. It evolved from casual sex when he was in town and turned into you falling in love with him. 

He started staying the night at your house, watching movies, making dinner together, going out, and upgrading your phone for international calls. You fell hard, and how he felt was still so much in the air. You knew he cared about you but Santi wasn’t really one to talk about feelings and it wasn’t like you talked about being exclusive. 

You were almost positive he wasn’t sleeping around in Columbia but you didn’t know for sure. He was supposed to be coming back tomorrow and you were going to pick him up from the airport. This trip you promised yourself you were going to tell him how you felt. 

If he didn’t feel the same way it would hurt but you couldn’t keep stringing yourself around for someone who didn’t want a relationship. The sex was fucking fantastic but it wasn’t worth you breaking your heart over. 

Your phone pings and you pull it out seeing a text from Santiago. 

I can’t wait to see you tomorrow. I might not be able to wait till we get to your house, I’ve really missed you. 

You smile texting back a reply before you finish the laundry and straightening up the house. This was either going to make or break your relationship. The idea made you sick. 

The next morning you woke up early and jumped into the shower. Santiago’s flight was supposed to arrive at eight in the morning and you needed to get moving. 

You arrive at the airport in your purple and white flowered sundress and push your sunglasses onto your head. Looking at the arrivals board and seeing that his flight has landed. You move over to the arrivals gate and sit down and people watch. 

A young couple are locked in a tight embrace near the departure and your heart pangs wishing that was you and Santi. The future for you both filled with so many unknowns. 

“Did you miss me?” Santi’s amused voice shakes you from your thoughts and you snap your head up to look at him smiling. 

“SANTI!” you shriek before pulling him in tight. He wraps his arms around you and you breath in his cologne feeling your heart explode in your chest. He’s back. 

He pulls back and kisses you and you melt into his embrace. “I’m so glad your back,” you nuzzle into his chest and he just holds you tighter. 

You pull away and he hoists his backpack on his shoulder, taking your hand and going to your car. When your both inside his hands are everywhere and you moan as his hands dip lower and rub between your legs. His mouth open and sucking on that spot on your neck he knows makes you moan and for a moment you get lost in the feeling of being with him and being loved by him. 

“Fuck, I want to taste you baby,” he moans against you and you snap out of your thoughts. 

“No!” you shout pulling back and looking at him wide eyed and mouth open.

“Baby? I don’t…what’s wrong?” 

“Santi...I want this...god do I want this. But, I promised myself the next time we were together I wouldn’t have sex with you until I told you something.” 

He sits back in his seat, and reaches across the console, taking your hand and stroking it with his thumbs. “What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong?” 

“No! No you didn’t do anything wrong. Quite the opposite...Santiago...I’m...oh fuck how do I say this?” you ring your hands together and he tightens his grip on your hands. 

“Just tell me baby...you're starting to scare me,” he chuckles nervously. 

You take a deep breath and release it shakily looking into his deep chocolate eyes and finding your courage, “I fucking love you Santiago Garcia. I want to be with you every single day for as long as you’ll want me. I don’t want you to be with anyone else, just me. I want to fall asleep and wake up to you every morning. I want a life with you Pope.” 

His face splits into a huge smile and he crashes his lips against your own. Pulling back and resting his forehead against yours, “Oh baby, I fucking love you too. There hasn't been anyone else and there will never be anyone else. We were made for each other, baby. I put in my request a month ago. I have two months of work left and then I’m done, I was going to tell you tonight over dinner.” 

You can feel the tears stream down your cheeks and you smile at him and kiss him again. “Really?” 

He nods before kissing you again and sighing against your lips, “How do you feel about a roommate baby?” 

“Are you asking me if you can move in with me?” 

“Yes. Yes, I am.” 

“Of course, Santiago. I love you.” 

“Oh baby, I love you too.” He kissed you again and in that moment everything was perfect.

Taglist: @oldstuffnewstuff @heythere-mel @yespolkadotkitty