#ben i would say is still a very moral person even when lost and unsure of himself and his goodness (which is like one of his main things)

[themyscirah]

Started thinking about the Amanda Waller + Ben Turner relationship again.... fuck, I'm gonna need a minute

[lavendertales]

Just died in your arms tonight: part 3**

pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

summary: you’ve made a decision following the split of the group, but saying goodbye is harder than you would’ve thought. Especially saying goodbye to Frankie.

word count: 6.3k

WARNINGS: angsty/angry sex, wall sex if that’s a thing, doggy style, cunnilingus, just literally messy sex all over the place.

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

A/N: recommending I Feel Like I’m Drowning by Two Feet for this one. Enjoy, my loves!

gif: @pascalsky 

series masterlist | AO3

Time was a cruel mistress and a painful reminder often times.

And this was one of those times.

You were nearly dying to talk to Benny, to see how he was doing, but you were afraid. You wanted to respect his wish of taking however time he needed to heal, yet you wanted nothing more but to help him personally, to be there for him. You knew you couldn’t, though; you were the one responsible for the pain he was going through.

Instead, you spoke to Will occasionally and got updates from him. Ben seemed to be focusing exclusively on his fights. He trained harder and longer than before, practically exhausting himself, but, according to Will, there was nothing anyone could’ve said or done that would have changed Benny’s mind. And you could’ve dealt with that if Frankie was there, but he was not.

Ever since Benny broke the friendship with him, less than a month ago, Frankie had been mostly MIA. He apparently returned to the gym during the day and spent his evenings bar hoping with Santiago. Which left you all alone in the equation. You couldn’t hold it against him or judge him in any way. He had lost one of his best friends because of you, and you knew it was something to mourn. Both he and Benny needed time.

But time seemed to be making things worse somehow.

The more you thought about it, the more you realized that the only reason both Frankie and Ben were suffering was you. It all started with you, and it needed to end with you.

First, against Will’s requests, you went to Ben’s gym, heart completely sunk in your stomach, shrunk to the size of a walnut. You patiently waited in the locker, gladly seeing you still benefited from your name and reputation as Ben’s girlfriend—though no one there seemed to realize you were his former now. You let out a soft gasp when he made his entrance, shirtless, sweaty and, worst of all, exhausted.

Exhausted didn’t really seem to cover how he looked. He had dark circles under his eyes, eyes which lost their sparkle and ocean-like charm, being replaced with an ashy expression and color; he somehow looked skinnier, though still very fit, and his skin was covered with bruises and cuts. Usually after a match, you would help him clean his wounds, but it seemed that, in your absence, Ben was wearing all of those marks as a badge of honor of some sort.

“Hey,” you shyly greeted him.

Ben froze, staring at you expressionless. “Hi. What—what are you doing here?”

Perhaps it was not the case, but everything in his voice suggested he did not want to talk to you or see you even. You had to remind yourself that the visit was cordial and short, and it would be over soon.

“I’m not staying long, I just… wanted to say goodbye. It felt impersonal to ask Will or Pope to tell you this.”

You gulped, awaiting his reaction, which did not fail to show up. Ben’s face dropped, approaching you with small steps, unsure of his own actions.

“Goodbye?”

“Yeah, I, uh… I’m gonna be gone. For a while. Uh—“

“Gone where? What are you – “

“I’m gonna do some traveling. I’ve always wanted to see more of Europe, so… Italy, France, Germany… all the big ones.”

You fought to reveal a polite smile, but you could feel yourself falling apart with each word that rolled from your tongue, nearly begging your mind to not let your eyes get teary under any circumstance.

“Why now?” Ben asked, removing his gloves.

“Because… I feel like I caused enough damage. I’ve fucked up everything and… I cannot stand the idea that I ruined your friendship with Frankie. So… I think it would be best if I just—“

“What are you gonna do after you come back?”

You faltered. You had a vague idea in your mind, but blurting out to Ben while he was in a very vulnerable and sensitive state of mind would not have been kind or respectable.

“I’ll—figure something out,” you got out of you, knowing full well that was not the truth.

Ben came even closer to you, frowning, his lips trembling in the slightest. “Are you gonna come back?”

Ah, Ben. Benny, the ever witty and sharp man.

“It’s only for a few months,” you intended to reassure him. “We could all use a breather, and—“

“You can’t leave.”

It triggered you and the emotional spot you had for Ben, especially lately. He struck a chord, and he knew that fairly well.

“This is your home, your friends and family are here—“

“I didn’t say that I’m leaving for good.”

“You didn’t have to! I know you, okay! I know every part of you, inside out, and you—you’re not gonna come back, are you?”

You failed to reply. You refused to.

“Are you?!”

“I don’t know, Ben! I—I don’t know! All I know… is that I can’t stand the thought of hurting you and Frankie this much. I can’t be the reason I end a friendship. I’m not a wrecker.”

“I thought you and Frankie were in pure bliss.”

You remained silent again, fighting off the multitude of tears accumulated in your eyes. You did not want to make a scene and start sobbing in front of Ben, but it was getting increasingly harder.

“We haven’t—I haven’t really seen him this past month,” you managed to get out.

Ben frowned, trying to make sense of what you were saying.

“The point is, I’m… doing some traveling, then… I’ll come back,” you said, words nearly getting caught in your trachea. “And in the meantime… I’m hoping you and Frankie can patch things up.”

“How long?”

“What?”

“How long will you be gone for?”

“A few months.”

“Do the rest of the guys know? Catherine?”

“I wanted to talk to you first.”

He frowned again, but remembered that the two of you had shared an exquisite intimacy for nearly two years, authentic and passionate, and of course you would choose him first.

Or in this scenario, at least.

But then again, you also chose to be with him and be happy with him, even if deep down your heart demanded someone else entirely.

She sacrificed too many things already, even if it hurt her, Ben thought with a huge ache in his body. She did everything there was to do for me and for everyone else at her own expense.

“You can’t go just because I need some time away from Frankie,” he told you, hands on his hips.

“Your friendship is more important than—“

“What about you then, huh? You’ve put yourself through hell for my sake, for Frankie and Will’s sake, for all of us, time and time again, without considering what you need. What you want.”

“I took what I wanted, Benny! I ran out on you, walked out of your house… and slept with your best friend!”

Your anger showed through a string of hot tears down your cheeks which you whipped immediately, frustrated.

“I took what I wanted, one time, and look what happened,” you continued, voice dark. “It ruined… everything. We never hang out anymore, all of us, because of me.”

“It’s not—“

“It is. And if there’s someone you should be mad at and demand to never see them again, it’s me. Not Frankie.”

“He broke the bro code. It’s a huge deal, you know how it is with us guys.”

“I know. But I also know that I am the one who hurt you, constantly. From the moment I chose to hide this from you, to the times I was all alone and thinking about him, and to right now, when I slept with him, when I was the one who remembered that drunken one night stand.”

You took a deep breath, acknowledging at last something that you hadn’t really thought of until then, and it was more demoralizing than you actually believed.

“I said I was in love with Frankie. But he never said anything of the sort.”

“What the hell do you mean?”

“All he knew from that night was that it was the best sex he’s ever had. He only remembered the physical part. That’s what he craved for. Even after I told him it was me, not once did he say anything which might lead me to believe he has actual feelings for me. And he’s been more or less hiding from me for a month now. So. One can only assume things at this point.”

Standing much too close to Ben’s glistening skin, all too familiar and downright appetite-inducing in that weak moment of yours, Ben could only look down at you with something furious in his eyes, but not entirely.

“If you’re telling me we all went through this hell and that crackhead doesn’t feel the same way about you—how the fuck can he not?”

You pursed your lips, trying not to say anything silly, but it was on your mind anyway.

One of the many things you always adored about Ben was his ability to be straightforward. What he wanted for, he went for. He voiced his thoughts and made sure he was well understood right from the start. You always knew where you stood with him.

That was not the case with Frankie.

And that was precisely the moment when you began to wonder if everything you’ve thought of and wanted in the past two years was actually real anymore.

“Who wouldn’t be all over you?” Ben tried to pass it as a joke, but the more he stared at you, eyes locked on your lips, the more he realized his feelings had returned, full-speed, feeding from the rational side of the brain.

His hunger kicked in instead, urging him to, once again, go after what he wanted.

“Please,” you puffed.

“Name me someone who doesn’t think this way about you.”

“Will? You know him, your brother.”

“When we first met you, he told me to hurry up and ask you out because if I wouldn’t, he would.”

“I… you’re fucking with me.”

“You know damn well I’m not, honey.”

“Uh—Pope.”

“Pope said you’re one of the finest women he’d ever seen.”

“You know what, that’s not the—that’s not the point,” you mumbled, losing the string of your thoughts. “The point is… he had entirely different expectations and fantasies about that night than I did, and… it’s another reason why we could all use a break.”

Ben was getting ahead of himself. He always did so, ever since he met you. The power you held over him was simply dumbfounding; every move you did was stuck onto him, every word you said, he hung onto it as if it were his life vest. You were a habit hard to break, and now, more than ever before, he felt the burdening need to let you know exactly that.

“How long are you gonna be gone for?” he asked.

“I told you—“

“I need an exact number.”

You huffed, scratching your forehead. “Three months.”

“Three months. Okay. You go do your travel, see Europe, eat delicious food, make memories, take a breather… and when you’ll come back, we’ll be right here.”

You wanted to correct him. You wanted to tell him that you had packed everything you had in your apartment and that you were good to go, but your heart did not allow for words to come out of your mouth. They stung and felt like a foreign body against your tongue and on your mind, and you let them slide.

“And if that stupid ass of Frankie does not realize precisely the kind of gem you are… the kind of person, woman, you are… you let me know.”

“There’s no need for all of that macho, boxing shit, Benny—“

He moved so close to you, like he used to when he needed you the most, grabbed your wrists and hold them gently into his hands, admiring them. For what, you did not know. And neither did him.

“You tell me right away if he does not love you every single day of his life, because I know I will. And I will do it with the very first chance that I got. I won’t hesitate.”

It nearly physically hurt when he leaned down to press a kiss on your forehead, his thumb caressing one of your cheeks as he watched you intently. It was the same look he had when he was reassuring you before his matches, and you knew he meant it.

There was melancholy in his eyes and the stiffness of his body. He was aching, longing, but he did not act upon it. Instead, he cleared his throat and patted your shoulder right as you walked away from him, faster than you would’ve normally wanted, fighting the overwhelming desire to look back and hug him.

You thought it was the best choice you could’ve made. The group was already too divided because of a silly mistake you did, and, contrary to popular belief, it seemed, you don’t always get what you want. For months, all your heart truly desired was a chance at knowing things could be just what you had been searching for your whole life, but with Frankie. Frankie had been the one constant inside of your mind, body and soul, the one thing which you could not shake and could not deny yourself of, and now that you got that taste again, you regained the long-lost feeling of that one night stand, things had changed in a way you would’ve never expected them to.

Overthinking had been one of your worst habits, and you were too deep in it to get a proper grip on reality anymore. It might’ve looked like you were what Frankie wanted, but how come you felt completely disconnected from him ever since you rekindled your passion? It hurt to even think about him, or Ben, or everything that was happening. It was the slowest-working poison in the world, infecting you slowly, tormenting you first.

It was suffocating to live inside your mind with all of that.

You had to go.

The day hadn’t been short of hurt. After Ben, you bid your goodbye to Will, who also tried to force you to stay but, unlike his brother, he actually hugged you and fought the urge to have an emotional reaction. His face appeared impassible, but he was crumbling just as much.

“Benny knows you’re leaving, right?”

“Yeah. He was the first one I told this to.”

“And uh—and Frankie?”

Your heart twitched and ached when you heard Frankie’s name, but your face did not betray that. You cleared your throat, appearing unaffected, even though tricks such as that one failed to work against Will Ironhead Miller.

“I’m—I’m on my way to tell him, too.”

“I thought—“

“Whatever everyone else thought, it’s not—like that. Okay? Whatever we all thought would happen… that the reason for leaving and breaking Benny’s heart would work out… it didn’t. It’s not.”

“So you’re gonna run away.”

Will was quite masterful at guilt-tripping. So much so that it nearly caused you to let out an involuntary moan, an audible indication of your inner struggle.

“I’m not running away, Will. I just need some time to myself. We all do.”

“Look, if this is really… what you want to do, then I respect your call. It’s your life.”

“Except it’s not. It’s gotten too tangled with everyone else and what everyone else cares and wants and—this is my decision now. This is what I feel like I need. I need—I need to breathe, Will. I need to be able to walk somewhere and not have Benny or Frankie or any of this on my mind. I need… I need peace. I need me.”

Will huffed, pulling into a hug again. “Send us pictures at least, okay?”

You chuckled at his chest, arms tightly wrapped around him. “Will do.”

“Promise.”

“I promise.”

At the very least he did not ask you when you would be back because you doubted you could’ve handled that conversation with him.

Next up was Catherine. She, on the other hand, did cry, but she could not wait for you to return and have you share all of your fantastic stories from your Europe. You only smiled in return, incapable of actually telling her what you had planned.

“Where’s Santi?” you asked her, looking around the living room. “I don’t wanna leave without saying goodbye to him, too.”

“He’s at Frankie’s, watching a football game.”

You nodded, hugging Catherine one more time, and you headed straight to Frankie’s, sluggishly, trying to mentally prepare yourself.

All you had to do was repeat what you told Ben, Will and Catherine. It was no big deal. Santiago would understand and be reasonable. He was a very reasonable and fair man.

You were only afraid of Frankie.

When you knocked on his front door, your heart was beating so fast you feared your neck had turned into one huge spasm. Your extremities had turned ice cold, yet your palms were sweaty and not even anxiously rubbing them against your jeans helped.

The door opened, Frankie’s messy hair and surprised facial expression greeting you in the most gut-wrenching way. You gulped, low on air and lacking the words.

“Hi,” you managed to get out.

“Hi.”

“I—I wanted to talk for a bit. Is that fine?”

Frankie looked at you as if you were a stranger, as if you were a girl scout selling cookies on his doorstep, and the realization nearly made you throw up. He nodded shortly, opening the door wider for you to walk in, and your skin crawled.

You saw Santiago on the couch with a beer, turning his head once you’re in his visual field. He stands up excitedly, and a little drunkenly, too, and hugs you tightly. You feel yourself breaking down again, but you force yourself to smile as Frankie gestures you to have a seat, saying nothing in return.

“Feels like we haven’t hung out in years,” Santiago said, giggling.

“Yeah, uh… I’m not here to hang out, Pope. I’m here to—“

You could feel Frankie’s intense gaze lingering on you, and it took every ounce of strength and determination to not look directly at him, despite that being the thing you wanted the most. You wanted to look only at him, to get lost in his soft, brown eyes, to feel him wrapped around you, safely surrounding you with his arms.

“I’m here to say goodbye,” you got it out.

Santiago muted the TV, fully turning towards you. You focused on him and him alone, unable for the time being to even sneak a peek at Frankie. You could have easily imagined his reaction, and you were not yet prepared for it, despite all of the practice you’ve done on your ride there and how much you lied to yourself.

“What do you mean ‘say goodbye’?” Santiago asked.

“I’m leaving. I’m doing some traveling until… well, until hopefully things get sorted out between you guys.”

“You’re just gonna go?”

“Yeah. I—I’ve been putting off this extensive travel for long time and… I kinda feel like the time is right now.”

“But—but what about—“

Santiago hesitated. He knew damn well why, and so did you, and so did Frankie. Words needn’t come out of his mouth or his mind. It was as clear as the broad daylight.

“Anyway,” you wanted to fill in the dead air, “it’s for a few months.”

You shameless liar.

“I think we could all use a breather.”

A shred of truth, good for you.

“Still, I mean... this is your home.”

“It always will be.”

Santiago frowned. “Uh, why does it sound like a more permanent goodbye rather than a temporary one?”

“Don’t sweat it, Pope.”

You smiled reassuringly, drowning in your own emotions in the meantime.

You shameless, cruel liar.

“Pope, you should leave.”

Frankie’s voice was dark, low and demanding. When you turned to him, that first eye contact turned out deadly. Suddenly you were sweating much more than before, your mind filled with all things Frankie. You stared at one another.

“I wanna talk to her alone. Please.”

Santiago stood up, looking at you with something a little more than just sadness.

It was pity. You knew it to be true.

You had that same look every single for the past month whenever you looked in the mirror.

“I at least get to hug you and wish you a safe travel, right?”

You smiled and nodded, nearly jumping into his arms. You felt sincerity in his embrace, something purely amiable that warmed you up for a brief moment.

The moment was gone the second Santiago was. Frankie called him a cab and, upon closing the door, went back to staring at you. There were many feelings inside of him, raging like a caged lion, all from anger to fear and disappointment, but more so, an agonizing ache.

“Are you gonna come back from this travel? Or is this it? Are we done?” he asked.

“We’ve been done pretty much since you and Ben fell apart. We should just admit that.”

“Hmm. Okay. So you’re just gonna flee the country, not give me any warning or choice?”

“You want a choice?”

You chuckled nervously, feeling incredibly flushed and on edge. “I bid everyone goodbye the entire day, and each time, each person, without fail, told me that it is unfair to them, but that I should still be selfish and do what’s best for me. How the hell does that work? How the hell can I do what’s best for myself when you all hang onto me?”

“I’m not going to say otherwise.”

The physical and emotional distance in between you two was asphyxiating.

“You got me fuckin’ hooked on you. I want you to be selfish. With me.”

His emphasis did zero good to you. It made you wanna rip your hair out in frustration and wrath. “Let me refresh your memory. What happened the last time we were selfish and took what we wanted?”

You approached him, barely containing yourself. That months’ worth of tension and pain and loneliness and doubts was hovering above you, eating you up and ready to explode.

“Look around you, Frankie. Look at what happened. I can’t be the one responsible for the loss of your best friend.”

“You’re blaming yourself so much that you’re ready to move away?”

“I didn’t say I was—“

“’It’s always gonna be my home. It’s only a few months’. You’re bluffing.”

He did a few steps himself to enclose the space between you and him and you gulped, struggling to organize your chaotic thoughts, but to no avail.

You felt like you were drowning.

“I cannot stand the idea that I drove you and Ben away, okay? I need some time to breathe and process the idea that I risked everything for another one night stand which clearly meant more to me than it did to you.”

Without fail, Frankie’s jaw dropped, his enraged and hurt face closer to yours. “What did you say?”

He could barely mutter the words without any impulsive action, but he needed to hear you loud and clear one more time.

“We had different fantasies in our minds,” you whispered. “You wanted to find the best sex of your life, and I wanted—“

“What?”

When you couldn’t get your words out, Frankie stepped even closer, your breath on his face, tickling his scratchy beard. “What did you want?”

“I wanted my best friend, with whom I’ve fallen in love with. I wanted you, more than I ever thought possible, more than I ever allowed myself to think. So you see? We lived different fantasies. And now that you’ve got yours… we should just admit it was great, it was mind-blowing, but it ruined everything.”

“You think I only care about the physical part? That I only cared about fucking you?”

“I haven’t seen you this entire month, Frankie. I could only think about you and think about that night, both of them, and think that you never even so much as indicated anything else than sheer pleasure at fucking me. That’s it.”

“You—you don’t—“

“And you know what, fine. If you felt only the need to bury yourself in me, then… fine. I’ll be over it. I’ll – hell, maybe I can give it another go with Benny. At least with him I always knew where I stood.”

Frankie’s breaths were ragged, impulsive, and the veins on his neck were pulsating through his skin. The way he was merely breathing, doing that simple human and basic act was oh, fucking hell, so ridiculously enticing that your entire body burned as you could only stare at him.

“You are selfish,” he cooed.

“Excuse me?”

“And you’re apparently a terrible friend, too.”

You were close to slapping him if it wouldn’t have been for that damned way he was looking at you, his hot, enraged breath on your face.

“I did not spend two years of my life thinking about that girl just for the idea that she was great in bed.”

“You’re confirming what I just said!”

“Did you consider how that night felt for me? How I might’ve felt afterwards? Let me tell you how it felt. It felt like the most comfortable, familiar and lovely place I’ve ever been in. From the second I entered you, every kiss, every fucking touch, every sound was musical. It was… heaven. It felt like I was living in heaven inside of you. And do you know where else I encountered that familiar feeling? Every night we went dancing, or drinking. It was always the same feeling, with you.”

You couldn’t say a single word in return. You could only try to control your breaths but it was posing such a difficulty when all your mind and body wanted to do was show Frankie that you had, in fact, always belonged to him.

“It was not just physical,” he insisted.

“How the fuck can you honestly say that?”

“Do you even fucking know why I broke up with Elisa?!”

He raised his voice, clearly having reached a point of no return. A point of such high passion and breakage alike that it completely controlled him.

“You said… you were too different or something, I don’t—“

“I screamed. Your name. Five times. On five different occasions.”

Your eyes widened, not having expected that twist. You could only watch his body movements, admiring in a sickeningly pleasurable way.

“I screamed your name, I saw your face, I… I wanted to hear… you. You… own me. You’ve always owned me. Whenever we were dancing, it burned me to touch you, to hold you. You’ve always owned me, completely and irrevocably. And when you said you were that girl, when you made me kiss you…”

He placed his index and thumb over your chin, delicately running them over your jaw, sending shivers on your spine as he gently pulled you to him. His other hand was on your waist, his fingers merely touching the surface of your blouse, but you trembled even underneath that almost non-existent contact.

“When I kissed you, I was home,” he finished, eyes devouring your lips.

“Then where the hell were you lately?”

He could sense the muscles contract in your body, even in your jaw as he held your chin close to his, inhaling your scent.

“Call me a coward. Or an ashamed son of a bitch.”

“Fine.”

Frankie could’ve chuckled if he wouldn’t have hastily remembered what you came to his place to do, and his heart sunk.

“I wasted too much time already,” he whispered, anger replaced by an awful sense of loneliness. “Two years, two whole years, now this entire month—I was guilty. I am guilty. I lost Ben because… fucking hell, you can’t even begin to understand how you make me feel… I am so… hopeless. But you can’t—no, you can’t leave.”

“I have to.”

“No, you don’t. You can’t.”

“It’s my choice, Frankie. ‘Be selfish’, remember?”

“With me.”

He said it with a cruel need, a certain sense of urgency speeding through his and your body alike. It was as if you had become one person, responding to his every touch and word, feeling that same need, that same craving to latch onto him.

“I’ve packed my things,” you choked on your words.

“Unpack them.”

“I’ve said goodbye to everyone, I’ve… put them and myself through emotional hell, I—I have to leave.”

“You don’t.”

“Frankie—“

“Don’t leave. You can’t leave. You can’t just leave and not come back.”

“I never said that I won’t come back.”

“You don’t want to.”

You looked at him, once again with guilt, knowing it of course to be true. You did want to leave and never come back, start anew somewhere else without your heavy conscience.

But having Frankie in such dangerous proximity to you once again proved that you could not make that definitive move.

“You and Benny—“you said breathless.

“I’ll patch things up with him, I swear I will. But I can’t do it, I can’t—I can’t function if you leave.”

“I feel like I’m drowning, Frankie.”

“You don’t have to.”

Any protest was erased from your mind and lips as Frankie pressed his lips on yours, his tongue darting inside your mouth. The kiss was greedy, tense and passionate all at once, as if it was eating both of you alive. His hands on either sides of your face, Frankie kept kissing you, unapologetically, moving into you until you felt your back hit a wall. Your body curved under his touch, your back arching when you felt his left hand grip your thigh and place it around his waist. You groaned in his mouth, your entire body afire at the touch, and wrapped your arms around his neck, gently caressing it, driving him utterly insane.

“Fuck,” he groaned into the kiss as well.

His lips traveled all the way down to your neck in a haste. He was needy and scared and turned on, and it suddenly felt like there wasn’t any time left for you and him. That thought alone ruined him as he broke the kiss to rip the blouse you wore in half, carelessly throwing it to the floor. His hands grabbed your breasts, squeezing them while his mouth ravaged yours. You wanted to scream his name, badly, justifiably so, but all you could do was moan, wish for him to be as close to you as possible, as fast as possible.

You pulled at his t-shirt, which he quickly disposed of, followed by the removal of your bra, pants and underwear, as well as his own lower half of clothes. The slight cool air hit your naked body, but Frankie made sure you didn’t have the time to feel that; his arms lifted you up, lowering you onto his erection as gently as he could, his large, calloused hands on your lower back and ass, guiding you up and down on him. You moaned at the first stretch of his cock inside of you, louder even when he pressed kisses in between your breasts and you bounced up and down on him.

“F-Fuck—F-Frank-kie—“

“It’s alright, baby—alright, baby—“

The pace was fast and unforgiving; you wanted nothing slow anyway. You tugged at a few locks of his hair as his face was buried in your chest, his breath tickling your nipples. The ecstasy was mind-blowing, explosive. His lips departed from your skin only to get a good look at you. Exquisite beauty, he thought. You took him all in, mouth agape as he went to hit that sweet spot of yours, the need for closure consuming you both.

“Don’t leave, baby—“he muttered seemingly like a prayer he learned long time ago. “Don’t—don’t leave—“

You could only moan in response, biting your lower lip at how insanely fucking great that man felt.

“Fuck—fuck, baby—oh—“

His insides burned, a spasm rising in his balls as he came, opening his mouth to grunt your name, the only name he seemed to know. As a response, you smiled fleetingly, feeling your own climax rise in your groins. Sure enough, once Frankie’s mouth was back on your neck, biting down on you, muttering sweet nothings against your earlobe, moving you faster down on his cock, you came hard, legs shaking around him, head tapping the wall and mind in a frenzy.

You didn’t settle down. It didn’t feel like enough.

Frankie lowered you, pressing you onto the couch, trailing hungry kisses from your breasts all the way down. Feeling his mouth and beard against your hot core was a kink in itself, and when you felt his tongue harshly lick at your folds, you clenched, hips thrusting forward to meet his face. Frankie dived in face first, soaking every ounce of juice you had to offer, working against your clit and your bud with nothing but his lips. He kissed you, intimately and outrageously tender, and you shivered. You could’ve came a second time just from that, but then he began to add his thumb into the play and you said his name a second time.

“How m-many times—did you say—my name?” you writhed.

Frankie lifted his head from in between your legs, teasingly wetting his lower lip.

“Five.”

Before you could mutter a reply, he smirked, immediately catching onto you. His mouth resumed its sweet torture over your already swollen pussy, forcing his tongue in and out of you, for which he gained a loud moan from you and a tight grip on his hair.

“Fucking—hell—fuck—“

He moved so hard and deeply against your pussy that when you came, you thrust your hips forward again, as much as you could, only to have his face buried there for all eternity. You screamed his name again, a third time, whilst he sucked you dry, completely.

When he rose from in between your legs again, you saw him lick his lips and stare at you mercilessly. You still didn’t settle down, and you anticipated him more and more, especially as he stroked himself a few times, not once breaking eye contact with you. He leaned in, his forehead pressed to yours, and you closed your eyes when he entered you again, holding your leg at a higher angle which allowed for a deeper hit than he did previously. Your fingers were tracing the muscles on his back as he rocked you back and front, burying himself balls deep inside of you, overlooking the rest of the world for one highly needed and sadly fleeting moment.

His grunts were simply orgasmic, and so was his every move. His nose was touching yours, and you felt him tremble inside of you, thrusting fast and hard.

“I love you s-so fucking—much,” he muttered, eyes closed as well. “I love you, I—adore you… you’re—everything to me… please—“

“F-Frankie—“

“Please don’t—don’t leave—“

He moved fast, desperately so it seemed, completely disregarding anything else. He felt no sore in his arms or legs, nothing but you. He only felt you, he only saw you and needed you. Your name was a prayer on his lips, a word he used as escapism from the harsh reality, and he has said it for longer than he could remember. Even in his lonely nights, horny and drunk, your name was the first that came to mind. Your beautiful features, all enticing and wonderful laid out before his eyes. Many were the times he came just after invoking your name, stroking himself hard a few times, his cum spilled all over himself and the floor, shameless and needy.

Just like he was now.

He felt you tighten around his cock, gasping as you did so; the mere contact, the feeling of your warmth around his length was maddening on its own, but paired with your sounds, your pleads for him, his name, and the movement of your body sent him into a frenzy unknown to mankind. His muscles contracted, his body burned with an insatiable desire for you and you alone and he came, your name on his lips just as his was on yours.

“That was three,” he breathlessly counted.

You wanted to smile, but truthfully, when he positioned you onto his lap again, safely bouncing you up and down on him again, you had forgotten everything you had meant to say. There was nothing to be said; you only wanted him. You only ever truly wanted him, and in that moment, when he thrust himself deep within you, you did not give a shit about how selfish or arrogant you might’ve came across. It was just you and him, exhibiting the kind of passion that so many people searched for their entire lives.

You came a fourth time, almost in sync with him, and said his name again.

And you came a fifth time, screaming his name as he took your from behind, pressing rushed kissed over your back, holding onto your hips for support and a grip on reality.

There was no one you ever loved more than you loved Frankie Morales, and he loved no one more than he loved you.

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[aficwhore]

Truth Is (Chapter 3)

Chapter 3: Paper Weighted Problems

Frankie “Catfish” Morales x F!reader

Summary: After the night before, tensions between Fish and Chip arise. While tearing through the jungle and Lorea’s place, Frankie and the reader fight, leading to an amazing discovery.

Word count: 3K

Warnings: explicit language, blood, violence, guns/weapons, lots of angst and emotions, infidelity?, smut, sexual innuendos, drinking, mentions of drugs, talk of death/death itself, and talk of mental health(PTSD and depression).

A/N: Sorry for the late update, Life has its ups and downs! Today we had a bad storm so I sat in my basement and wrote this. I hope you like it<3

Regret. Frankie couldn't hide the emotion from me. It was as clear as day, I wondered if the boys had noticed it. 

“Well what’s for breakfast?” I broke the awkward silence, causing everyone but Frankie to break their gazes away from me, but exchanges looks between each other. I finally looked anywhere but in Frankie’s direction.

Tom cleared his throat, “Uh nothing special, we saw that you had some frozen waffles and just made those.” He tried to lighten the mood, it was obvious, everyone knew about last night. 

“Haha, yea, what grown woman buys Eggos?” Benny attempted to joke, causing Santi and Will to stifle a laugh. 

I rolled my eyes, fighting a smile, thoughts of Frankie still clouding my mind. “For occasions just like this one! When five grown men have a slumber party in my living room.” I added, walking over to the counter and grabbing a plate full of waffles and dowsing them in syrup.

“Right, because that’s definitely what it was.” Tom chuckled, handing me a napkin.

“Exactly, I’m pretty sure I saw Pope braiding Benny Boy’s hair.” I joked biting into a chunk of food.

Ben scoffed, “It gets in my eyes!” And everyone froze, staring at him in shock. After a second of complete silence, Frankie burst into laughter, sending the rest of us into a laughing fit, except Ben. He stood there blushing, trying to act like he didn’t reveal that he braids his hair.

Will began to cough, struggling to not choke on the mouthful of food while he snickered. Pope roughly patted him on the back as our giggles died down. 

“So, does that mean you sit in the mirror and braid your own hair?” Tom questioned with a smirk on his face, wanting to bother Benny more.

“You shut up.” He jokingly spits. Tom raises his hands as a sign of defeat and continues to finish the last bites of food on his plate.

“Anyways...Other than our ‘slumber party’ I know two people that had some fun last night.” Pope spoke up, causing mine and Fish’s eyes to open wide.

“Oh yea, how could we forget? ‘Oh FrAnKiE, Oh YeS! HaRdEr!’” Benny mimicked me while thrusting his hips for dramatic affect. I could feel heat rising to my face as the boys roared with giggles again. 

“Would you cut it out?” Frankie replied, wanting to avoid this talk entirely. 

Then Pope joined in, making fun of Frankie, “’FuCk, bAbY, I wOn’T LaSt LoNg!’” I sat there, embarrassed and not knowing what to say. Normally this would be a joke, but with everything, this wasn’t a joking matter.

“I said enough!” Frankie shouted, “It shouldn’t have happened, okay?!” He expressed, shoving his chair back, getting up, and storming outside.

All the commotion died immediately. Pope and Benny opened their mouths to apologize when they turned to me, but were met with a blank stare.

Did he really mean that? After pursuing me? After trying so hard to make up, he goes and says ‘It shouldn’t have happened.’

Everyone remained quiet, continuing to stare at me in concern. After what felt like hours, Tom pushed his seat back and got up, hopefully headed to catch Frankie.

Once Tom had made it out the front door, I cleared my throat, "So, what time are we leaving?" I asked, trying to hide all the hurt and pain from my eyes.

The three remaining men all exchanged looks, "Here in 15." Santi spoke quietly, unsure of what exactly just happened.

"Sounds good!" I faked enthusiasm, stuffing my mouth with the last bite on my plate and getting up. I swiftly put my dishes in the sink and headed back to my room. I could hear the boys whispering to each other, trying to understand what the hell was going on with Frankie and I.

I closed my door behind me. I leaned against it, letting my head fall back with defeat and hit the door. Feeling my emotions topple over the brim, tears rushed to my eyes as I slid down the door and sank to the floor.

What the fuck was going on? Why was Frankie so upset with our actions. I thought finally we had made up, that he was once again MY Fish. Had he just used me last night? What changed his mind? Why was this happening all over again?

Lost in my thoughts, I hadn't realized that my sobs were now audible. I couldn't hold back the garbled gasps I let out. Tears stained my cheeks and began to soak my shirt.

Through the door I could hear the boys trying to get each other to come get me, because it was close for us to leave. Not wanting to deal with the water works anymore, I slapped my cheeks a few times, trying to smack the emotions out of my head. I wiped my tears off and quick got up to change my shirt.

After rummaging through my clothes, I found a similar shirt, threw it on and swung open the door, wanting to just head to the airport, and to get this over with.

Holding my head up high, I confidently walked back to the kitchen/living room to meet the boys. Only Benny and Will stood there waiting for me, finishing the dishes and putting them away.

"All set? I'm ready to get this over with and be rich." I attempted to joke, causing the brothers in front of me to awkwardly chuckle, their eyes full of worry.

Benny shook his head, acknowledging that I wanted to ignore the fiasco and to get on the road. He led the way out of the apartment after hanging up a dish towel and grabbing his wallet and keys off the counter.

I followed quickly behind him with Will right on my heels. When we made it to the cars, Frankie sat in the front passenger side of Santi's truck, Santi in the driver seat, and Tom between them.

"I'll drive," Will offered, making his way to his truck and getting in. Benny walked ahead of me, opened the door and waited for me to hop in, before getting in after.

No one spoke as we tailgated Santi's truck all the way to the airport. Will placed his hand on my thigh the whole time, as a way to console me. Benny had his arm around me, slightly pulling me into his side. With them, I felt much better, they were my best friends and knew exactly how to comfort me.

When we found a good parking space, we all hopped out, and grabbed our things from the bed of the trucks. It was still awkwardly silent between everyone.

As we checked into our flights and went through TSA, Benny tried to lighten the mood by saying he needed a snack, even though we had just ate. We all giggled when Will called him a 'garbage disposal.'

Sitting at our flight gate was almost unbearable, realizing this mission would be very difficult, now with the added tension.

When we boarded the plane, Will and Santi sat with me, of course I was in the middle. Tom, Benny, and Frankie sat in the seats next to us. During the first hour I attempted to read a book, but quickly got bored as I felt Pope fall asleep and rest his head against my shoulder. Will sat with his eyes closed and headphones in.

I glanced over Pope's sleeping frame to find the others. Benny was leaned forward, head down and snoring on the tray he had propped up. Tom was slouched in his chair, his head lulling back and forth with sleep consuming him. And Frankie, who was also reading, looked up and met my eyes.

I ignored the gaze he gave me and turned my attention back to my book. Moments later I felt my phone buzz with a text. I sat my book down and pulled out my phone, reading the message;

Fishie: "I'm sorry..."

I rolled my eyes, was he really apologizing for his blowout, over a text?

Locking my phone, I put it face down into my lap, leaving the message unanswered. I continued my page in my book, only getting past a few sentences before my phone vibrated again. I acted as if I didn't feel it and remained reading. Only for it to ping again.

Frustratedly, I opened my phone again, seeing two additional texts;

Fishie: "Really?"

Fishie: "I meant what I said. I am sorry, but last night... was a mistake."

Heat began to rise to my cheeks, I forcefully typed back;

Me: "Wow, you are unbelievable."

I heard him shuffle and type back quickly;

Fishie: "Because I apologized? It's true, I'm only helping us both here. Yea it was my fault, but I shouldn't have gone to your room."

Me: "You took advantage of my feelings. You acted like we can just ignore this, I can't help but feel you led me on."

Fishie: "Led you on?! How? WE both decided to sleep together, thats it. I didn't LEAD you to do anything."

Me: "You're a real fucking piece of work."

Fishie: "Oh really?"

Me: "Yea, fuck you."

Fishie: "God you are the most stubborn and hard headed person I've ever met. Can't you see that this was a damn mistake?"

Me: "Screw you, oh wait, I did, but look where that got me. I don't even know why you're trying to apologize, because somehow you keep shifting the blame to me."

As I hit send and shoved my phone between my legs and put my book away, I heard Frankie huff with anger. Awaiting a reply I closed my eyes and leaned against Will, using his arm as a pillow.

But for a while, nothing came, and I slowly began to drift into unconsciousness.

My sleep had been interrupted by the plane shaking and a loud thump. I opened my eyes abruptly, and slightly frightened. I faced Will, to glance out the window and found that we had finally landed in Colombia.

We all silently gathered our things and slowly made our departure from the plane and airport. Once we trudged through the doors, we made it into the humid climate, the wet air immediately dampening our skin and clothes.

"Damn, this is gonna be fun." Benny chirped as we all huddled into the jeep Santi had prepared for us. Santi hopped upfront, and so did Tom, leaving four of us to try and fit in the backseat.

"Pope, there six of us, there's no way we'll fit AND have room for the bags." I spoke up, watching as Will, Benny, and Frankie smushed into the seats together.

"I know, I promise I'm more prepared than that," he laughed. "We only have to ride like this for a few miles, then we're on foot, and they'll have cargo vans there." He explained, turning on the engine and motioning for me to somehow get in.

"You can sit on my lap, I'll hold you down during Pope's insane driving." Benny laughed from between Will and Fish. I climbed over Will, careful not to hurt him, and landed in Ben's lap when he yanked the arm I used to brace my weight.

I twisted in his lap to sit comfortably, hoping I'd fit and we could just hurry up and get this over with. Benny wrapped his arms around my waist as Santi sped off and made way to a long and bumpy road.

We hit quite a few bumps and potholes, causing me to shift and bounce in Benny's lap. I tried to lean forward and hang in-between the two front seats, to help alleviate the rough contact between us.

"Damn it Chip, quit wiggling." Benny grunted from behind me.

"I can't control that, Pope is hitting every possible bump on the road." I squeaked as we hit a particularly hard one. I landed back into his lap and felt something. "Ouch, what the hell is in your pocket."

Will snorted and faced the window to hide his face as Benny gulped loudly. "I-I can't help it, you keep moving!" I froze, wanting to still believe it was something in his pocket.

"C'mon man, can't you control yourself?" Frankie angrily spoke up.

I pulled my back from Benny and sat as far forward on his legs as I could, turning to look at Frankie. "What? How is it-" I countered, my voice dying in my throat.

"Fish, you know how it works, it's not like I'm doing this on purpose." Benny awkwardly explained.

Frankie huffed and shook his head. "Whatever." he muttered.

"Looks like someone is jealous." Santi quietly joked.

"I am not jealous! We-we are on a damn mission! That should be the last thing from anyones mind, we need to focus on not dying and getting the fucking money." Frankie snapped, filling the jeep with his booming voice.

All noise ceased, the only sound was the creaking of the car as we rolled off the main road into a trail. The tension was at an all time high, it was engulfing and in a way, suffocating.

After some time, we stopped, Santi throwing the car in park and quickly turning to us. "My informant said that the mansion should be vacant, but we only have about 15 minutes, so we get in and get out, with as much as we can carry, but we can't take too much time." We all nodded. "When I get the signal, we're coming in hot and getting right to it. Get out and suit up." He turned back around and hopped out.

We followed behind, pulling out our bags and pulling on our gear. Not much else was said, due to the shit that was about to go down, even though it would be empty, you never know what could happen.

"Alright, obviously with everything, we no longer fit, I'll ride the side." I spoke, waiting for Will to get in and shut the door.

"Me too, easier that way." Frankie offered, shutting his door after Benny jumped in.

Will shut his door and I placed my foot on the step bar, hauling myself up to grab the rack on top for support, hanging on tight as Frankie did the same. "All good?" Pope asked through the window.

"Game time bitches." I quirked, slapping my free hand on the top of the Jeep. As we waited for the signal, I took in my surroundings, lush, thick forest all the way around, If Pope doesn't know where to go, we'd definitely get lost.

As I admired the greenery, I turned to look over the roof of the car, meeting Frankie's eyes for what seemed like the millionth time since we've reunited.

He sheepishly looked away and down at the ground, his knuckles which wrapped around the frame of the rack, tightened and turned white.

A garbled and staticky noise came from the cab of the vehicle, causing Pope to slam the gear shift into drive and yell "Hold on tight!" He lurked the jeep forward, stepping up the speed.

I held on tighter, pulling my body as flush as I could to the side of the Jeep, to avoid hitting the branches and brush that littered the sides of the overgrown trial.

After a long blur of green, the forest broke into a path, leading to a small mansion. Just as fast as we drove, we stopped. I jumped off and quickly swung the door open for Will, stepping back and pulling my gun from my side.

Without any words, we all strategically filed into the house, making sure to take cover and search the premise, eliminating any threats. The first floor had been barren, as for people, though it was filled with expensive artwork and furniture.

Once we all searched and met at the staircase, Pope nodded at me, signaling for me to take the lead upstairs and sweep the area. I quickly glided up the stairs and took cover near the first door, getting ready to burst in the room and check. To my luck, when I leaped into the room, it was empty. I glanced behind the door, and walked further into the office, keeping my gun at attention.

I could hear the boys doing the same, in the last four rooms. I observed the room, a big desk sat in the middle, a fancy chair accompanied it, the walls were decorated with paintings and portraits. The was a door in the corner, which I strode over to, swinging it open, full force. An alarmed Fish sat on the other side, the door led to the next room. I quickly pointed my gun at the ground and rolled my eyes, turning to examine the room again.

"Clear!" I yelled, letting the team know our section was safe.

Frankie walked through the door and up to me, as I sifted through the desk. "Hey I just wanted to talk real quick."

"Really? Now is not the time, look for the money." I spat back at him. "Any luck?!" I yelled hoping someone found something.

A faint voice answered, "No! I swear, she said there was money here!" Pope echoed.

Getting antsy, I shoved the desk, causing it to fall over, Frankie stepped back, "Listen, I didn't mean to make things worse, okay? Trust me I wanted nothing more than to be with you again."

I paused my movements, holding a paperweight in my hand, "No Frankie, you've done enough, either you want me or don't." I spoke harshly.

"Damn it Chip, just listen!" He raised his voice.

"No! I'm not doing this again, get your shit together and fucking look for something!" I yelled, bending down to put the weight down. He leaned forward and grabbed my arm. "Fuck you!" I yanked away, causing the paper weight to leave my hand and barrel into the wall.

The wall cracked, a hole forming as the weight bounced off and fell to the ground. "Look at what you did!" Frankie gasped with frustration.

I whipped around, walking to the wall, grabbing the paperweight. As I stood, I stopped halfway up when I was met with the hole. But it wasn't just an empty wall or beam behind it. There were plastic packages sticking out, which is very unusual for houses. Frankie began to murmur again.

"Shh! Shut Up!" I shushed him, reaching into the hole and tugging at the bag.

"You never let me talk-" Frankie continued.

"Frankie shut the fuck up! Look!" I screamed when the bag came out of the wall and into my hands. I Twisted on my heel and showed him the bag, which contained a huge stack of One-hundred dollar bills.

"Holy Fuck." Frankie gulped, making eye contact with me.

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