#adding faces to the farmhouse owners and now the volunteers
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munroe's safehouse volunteers
theseĀ specificĀ fourĀ hunters and non huntersĀ haveĀ formedĀ aĀ bondĀ withĀ sonnyĀ andĀ decidedĀ toĀ volunteerĀ toĀ helpĀ wheneverĀ sonnyĀ isĀ overwhelmedĀ orĀ needsĀ toĀ goĀ outĀ forĀ aĀ hunt.
emilianoĀ briceƱoĀ /Ā runsĀ theĀ bar,Ā makesĀ sureĀ everyoneĀ followsĀ theĀ rules,Ā andĀ kicksĀ ppeopleĀ outĀ ifĀ heĀ hasĀ to:Ā ifĀ anyoneĀ wasĀ aĀ regular,Ā itĀ wasĀ emiliano.Ā heĀ isĀ theĀ closestĀ toĀ aĀ familyĀ friendĀ anyoneĀ couldĀ everĀ askĀ for.Ā outĀ ofĀ everyoneĀ inĀ theĀ huntingĀ world,Ā he'sĀ mostĀ protectiveĀ ofĀ sonny.Ā whenĀ he'sĀ notĀ hunting,Ā heĀ triesĀ toĀ beĀ atĀ theĀ safehouseĀ everyĀ singleĀ day.Ā heĀ evenĀ hasĀ hisĀ regularĀ roomĀ justĀ sparedĀ forĀ him.Ā whenĀ sonnyĀ isĀ gonnaĀ goĀ outĀ hunting,Ā he'sĀ eitherĀ volunteeringĀ withĀ herĀ orĀ watchingĀ theĀ place.Ā heĀ knowsĀ sheĀ canĀ handleĀ herĀ own,Ā butĀ thatĀ didn'tĀ meanĀ heĀ wasĀ stillĀ cautious. he is also dating charlie bardot.Ā (portrayedĀ byĀ pedroĀ pascal)
noelleĀ wolfeĀ /Ā alwaysĀ makingĀ sureĀ theĀ sigilsĀ haven'tĀ beenĀ messedĀ with,Ā resetsĀ theĀ saltĀ andĀ demonĀ traps,Ā kicksĀ peopleĀ outĀ ifĀ sheĀ needsĀ to:Ā noelleĀ hungĀ aroundĀ theĀ safehouseĀ aĀ lot.Ā sheĀ wasĀ aĀ runaway,Ā aĀ troubleĀ makerĀ beforeĀ sheĀ ranĀ intoĀ sonny.Ā sheĀ didn'tĀ trustĀ anybodyĀ dueĀ toĀ losingĀ herĀ family.Ā soĀ ifĀ anyoneĀ gaveĀ herĀ aĀ home,Ā gaveĀ herĀ aĀ family,Ā itĀ wasĀ sonny.Ā sheĀ becameĀ aĀ hunter,Ā aĀ damnĀ goodĀ one,Ā thanksĀ toĀ sonny.Ā sheĀ wasĀ secondĀ toĀ volunteerĀ toĀ helpĀ whenĀ sonnyĀ hasĀ toĀ leave.Ā (portrayedĀ byĀ doveĀ cameron)Ā
owenĀ johnsonĀ /Ā runsĀ theĀ kitchen,Ā locksĀ up,Ā doesĀ everythingĀ whenĀ noĀ oneĀ isĀ thereĀ toĀ help:Ā likeĀ manyĀ hunters,Ā owenĀ lostĀ aĀ lot.Ā heĀ wasĀ lost,Ā butĀ theĀ momentĀ heĀ steppedĀ intoĀ theĀ safehouse,Ā heĀ didn'tĀ realizeĀ thatĀ thereĀ wasĀ someĀ sortĀ ofĀ familyĀ outĀ thereĀ inĀ appletonĀ wisconsin.Ā heĀ didn'tĀ likeĀ hunting.Ā heĀ didn'tĀ wantĀ toĀ beĀ aĀ hunter.Ā soĀ asĀ heĀ visitedĀ moreĀ andĀ more,Ā heĀ decidedĀ toĀ askĀ sonnyĀ ifĀ heĀ couldĀ potentiallyĀ liveĀ inĀ theĀ safehouseĀ andĀ beĀ theĀ cook.Ā soĀ heĀ happilyĀ isĀ inĀ theĀ kitchenĀ cookingĀ forĀ hunters.Ā he'sĀ theĀ onlyĀ oneĀ outĀ ofĀ theĀ fourĀ thatĀ actuallyĀ worksĀ there,Ā evenĀ whenĀ sonnyĀ isn'tĀ around.Ā (portrayedĀ byĀ ryanĀ gosling)
binnaĀ yunĀ /Ā runsĀ theĀ karaoke,Ā showsĀ huntersĀ whereĀ theyĀ willĀ beĀ sleeping:Ā binnaĀ isĀ notĀ aĀ hunter,Ā norĀ everĀ hasĀ been,Ā norĀ everĀ willĀ be.Ā howĀ didĀ sheĀ endĀ upĀ inĀ thisĀ world?Ā well...Ā that'sĀ whereĀ noelleĀ cameĀ in.Ā thereĀ wasĀ aĀ shifterĀ thatĀ wasĀ attackingĀ herĀ townĀ andĀ noelleĀ showedĀ upĀ toĀ saveĀ theĀ day.Ā butĀ whileĀ noelleĀ wasĀ investigating,Ā littleĀ richĀ spoiledĀ binnaĀ decidedĀ toĀ buttĀ inĀ causeĀ whatĀ elseĀ isĀ thereĀ aĀ richĀ girlĀ toĀ do?Ā overtime,Ā afterĀ beingĀ saved,Ā theĀ twoĀ exchangedĀ numbersĀ andĀ startedĀ dating.Ā andĀ nowĀ they'reĀ inĀ aĀ relationshipĀ andĀ sheĀ wouldĀ goĀ withĀ noelleĀ toĀ seeĀ thisĀ safehouse.Ā mainlyĀ becauseĀ binnaĀ wantedĀ toĀ makeĀ sureĀ noelleĀ wasĀ safe.Ā atĀ firstĀ sheĀ wasĀ skeptic,Ā butĀ sheĀ grewĀ aĀ likingĀ toĀ sonnyĀ andĀ decidedĀ toĀ helpĀ outĀ wheneverĀ she'sĀ around.Ā (portrayedĀ byĀ parkĀ sooyoung)
#ļæ½ļ潚¾šš š»šøššš»š“ šš°šµš“š·š¾ššš“ . . . munroe's safehouse#look at me#adding faces to the farmhouse owners and now the volunteers#i like building a world for my baby girl#šµš°š¼šøš»š š³š¾š½'š š“š½š³ šøš½ š±š»š¾š¾š³ . . . emiliano briceƱo#šµš°š¼šøš»š š³š¾š½'š š“š½š³ šøš½ š±š»š¾š¾š³ . . . noelle wolfe#šµš°š¼šøš»š š³š¾š½'š š“š½š³ šøš½ š±š»š¾š¾š³ . . . owen johnson#šµš°š¼šøš»š š³š¾š½'š š“š½š³ šøš½ š±š»š¾š¾š³ . . . binna yun#šøš¼šæš¾ššš°š½š . . . guest muse
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Fixāer Upper Pt. 6
Pairing: Frankie Morales x Reader
Warnings: Angst, morning wood
Length: 1.5k
Notes: Back at it with their bullshit!Ā Finished this and even though Iām not as ahead as Iād like to be with this fic I have a general idea where itās going so Iām posting this before I feel like I should? Enjoy! Divider by @firefly-graphicsĀ š Header by meĀ š
Parts ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR, FIVE
Sleep slowly faded away, like a heavy fog evaporating in the morning sun, and your consciousness was becoming aware of a few things all at once. You were unseasonably warm, you had a raging headache already, and you really needed to pee. The arm slung over your waist was doing nothing to ease the latter issue, but it was also the reason for your warmth.Ā
This was the first morning, since moving into the drafty old farmhouse, that you had woken perfectly cozy and warm. You could say it was due to the fact that you had passed out in your leggings and hoodie but you didn't even want to pretend it wasn't because of the living furnace currently snoring softly into the back of your neck.
Normally, as a morning person, you would jump out of bed and be putzing around the kitchen by now. However, you had no desire to disturb the peaceful atmosphere that waking up cradled in Frankie's arms had created. Morning light was already streaming through the edges of your curtains, casting your room with a warm glow. You watched dust motes dance in the air as you relaxed and matched your breathing with Frankieās even as his mustache tickled your skin with each of his exhales.
Deciding to give yourself another ten minutes you carefully, as to not wake the grumpy farmer behind you, pulled up the blankets and wormed your body further backward so his curved fully around yours.
Frankie hummed in his sleep as his arm subconsciously tightened around your waist, his large hand spreading out so that his pinky was touching your hip bone and his thumb caressed just under your breast. His mind was still deep in slumber but his body was, er, waking up.
Visions of last night bombarded your mind as you laid there, body frozen and barely breathing to avoid waking Frankie.Ā
Opening up to Frankie, and he to you. Crying, him making you tea, you asking him to stay so you wouldn't be left alone with the ghost of Brad to haunt your dreams... Frankie had surprised you both, if the look on his face was anything to go by, when he had agreed. The initial awkwardness of laying in your bed together, fully dressed. He had eventually started telling you stories of his childhood friends and their adventures and his soft, raspy voice had lulled you into a peaceful sleep.
All of that, however, had been more intimate and exposing than you'd ever been with anyone. Having Frankie wake up, after all of that emotional intensity, to having his boner pressing into your ass? It would be too much, you didnāt want that level of awkwardness detracting from how each of you had let down your walls for each other.
Slowly, very slowly, you rolled to the edge of your bed and slithered to the floor, avoiding the creaky floorboards on your way to the bathroom.
As you stood at the sink, gazing at your reflection, you were pleasantly surprised by your complexion. No bags, no dark circles under your eyes, just a bit of smeared mascara that was quickly wiped away. Last night's slumber had done wonders for your body. Before this morning you hadn't realized how much tension you had been carrying, or how your poor nights had been weighing on your mental state.
One great night's sleep, the best night's sleep you'd had in a long, long time, had completely restored you. Just sharing a bed with another person, nevermind the fact that he was extremely sweet, thoughtful, and hot as hell, had given you the tranquility you were missing. You instantly craved more.Ā
It killed you to acknowledge it but a battered, bruised, yet healing part of yourself cried for independence. Reminding you how little of it you've had. It wanted you to be happiest on your own and not need someone else to feel comfortable and safe.
Hating to agree, you knew that bitch was right. For however nice that sleep had been, and however much you craved it again, you knew that you also needed to find happiness in yourself first. Brad had done so much damage, you needed to heal yourself and find yourself again before adding another person into the mix.
Taking a deep breath and coming to terms with your new resolve, you finished your morning routine before exiting the bathroom. Seeing that Frankie was still snoring away, you decided to run to town for coffee, thinking it would be a nice way to thank him for his kindness and company.
Writing a quick note and leaving it on the table, you stepped outside into the beautiful Autumn morning. Grabbing your bicycle you made the short trek to town, unable to wipe the smile from your face.
Town was busy for such an early house, and you were met with a line of customers in the bakery when you entered. The din of chatting friends nearly drowning out the bell chime above the door. Agnes, the ownerĀ āfor over forty years!ā gave you a wave before giving her attention back to the tourist family at the counter. The smell of cinnamon, coffee, and yeast instantly enveloped you and your stomach growled making you want to order everything they had to offer behind the counter.
Knowing it would take a while before you could place your order, the owners of the place liked to stop and chat with customers, you meandered over to the community notice board that hung on the wall near the little bistro tables that graced the front window.
Amidst the notices for lost dogs, babysitting services, church service meetings, and town hall meetings was a poster for a fundraiser that caught your eye. The local youth group was organizing a county fair to raise money for a skateboard park to be built near the school. Visions of cotton candy, excited girls bursting with glee, and purses bursting with prizes flooded your mind. You had loved visiting the fair when you were younger, and decided that helping out would be a great way of experiencing that excitement again.
Grabbing a phone stub you called and signed up as a volunteer. The lady you spoke to was ecstatic and your offer to help and couldnāt wait to meet you. This was a great opportunity to meet more people in the community as well, you realized. Youād been so busy working at Morales Acres and then on your home, you hadnāt put very much effort into getting to know anyone else.
On the bike ride back home, you felt like you were walking on sunshine. Not only was your bike basket laden down with sweetbreads and a new French coffee press, which Agnes had sworn was foolproof, but you had also convinced Jacquie to volunteer for the fundraiser. It hadn't been hard as her eldest child, Cole, was very keen on becoming the next Tony Hawk.
Your future was looking so bright. There was guaranteed girl-time with your new best friend, meeting new people doing something that sounded super fun, and while you had decided to not dive into anything romantic with Frankie, you were looking forward to spending more time with the grumpy guy hiding a heart of pure gold.
Regardless of the crick in his neck, his belt digging into his hip, and his feet sweating from sleeping with socks on, Frankie woke with a smile. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept so well. Despite the discomfort, he'd had a dreamless, deep slumber and woke fully rested.
He could try making excuses for it, blame it on the cider, the tiring workday, the spent emotions, but deep down he knew it was due to you. You, who had asked him to stay. You, who had given him so much comfort by just laying next to him. Not only that but he felt like you truly saw him when he spoke. He had opened up more in the last twenty-four hours than he had in the five years since he'd moved here.
He hadn't told you everything yet, the last time he'd done that he had scared away his wife and lost his daughter. He feared that he could lose you too if he told you about Columbia, Tom, the money, and how it had brought out the worst in him.Ā
Frankie had felt safe enough to share his struggles with cocaine, his failed marriage, and losing custody of Annie. You had only shown sadness and concern, there had never been pity or judgment in your gaze.
Coming out of his inner reflection, Frankie soon became aware of just how quiet your house was. He could tell you had left the bed a while ago, as the space you'd occupied had gone cold. There was no usual humming or singing, no footsteps or signs of life. Slightly mystified and erring on the side of caution, Frankie slipped silently out of bed and began sweeping your house room by room.
By the time he made his way into your kitchen, his heartbeat had gone from a panicked staccato to a slow beat heavy with dread. The truth slapping him in the face: you had left. You'd woken before him, slipped away without saying anything, and left your own house in order to avoid him. Frankie couldn't help but wonder if you regretted your plea for him to stay.
Had he taken advantage of your emotional state? Was staying the wrong thing to do? Even though nothing sexual had happened he still felt like he had done something wrong, and felt horrible for it. Had he talked in his sleep, or maybe lashed out from a dream he didnāt remember?Ā
Should he leave and give you the space you seemed to want? Should he stay and apologize? Glancing between the stairs that led to your bedroom and the front door, Frankie hesitated while weighing his options. With a sigh, he shook his head and made up his mind. Grabbing his coat from where it rested on the table, he told himself he was doing the right thing. Youād call when you were ready to see him again.
The lightness in your heart very abruptly turned to confusion when you arrived back home, just shy of an hour after you'd left. Frankie's truck was missing from your driveway.
Walking inside, you placed your breakfast and coffee on the table and had a quick look around for any signs of Frankie. When your search turned up nothing, not even a note back, you slumped down onto a dining room chair with a huff.
Had Frankie just got out of bed, grabbed his coat, and left? You tried to not read too much into it. Maybe he had run home for a shower? Or new clothes?
After finishing off your third cinnamon twist, you pushed the bag away from you in disgust with a little too much gusto and it thumped onto the floor. Heaving a dramatic sigh, you reached down to grab the muffins that had spilled out of the paper bag, and that's when you noticed the note that you had written to Frankie had fallen under the table.
Despite yourself, and what your therapist had cautioned you against, your mind automatically conjured up a scene. Frankie waking, glad that he was alone. Making his way downstairs, reading your peppy little note and throwing it away with a scoff. Leaving in a hurry, glad to be free of you and your issues.
Your heart sank, even while your brain fought against the imaginary scenario. Eventually, just barely, your head won.Ā
When he hadn't shown up after two hours you began to worry. The two extra-large coffees in your system, why let his go to waste?Ā didn't help matters.
By dinner, you were miserably painting the guest bedroom, alone. You told yourself he just needed some space as he had opened up his heart to you in a way he probably hadnāt in a long time. You decided to wait for him to call you once he felt comfortable enough.
Part Seven
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