#i always feel bad that benny dies first

[sleepingsomnus]

benny's too slow...

[feralgodmothers]

So it seems that the general consensus over The Bikeriders ending is that it isn’t a happy one, and I can see why. For the majority of the film, there’s this tug of war that Kathy and Johnny have over Benny that basically symbolizes his domestication vs. his freedom, and when you interpret it through that lens - Benny ending up with Kathy just feels like Kathy “won”, and that Benny loses a big part of himself in the process.

But here’s my interpretation:

Benny was like a stray cat, who reveled in being able to come and go as he pleased. And I think that in the middle of the film when he went his own separate way from The Vandals, he always intended for his absence to be temporary, and that he would come back when he was ready. But then Johnny died. And after what nearly happened to Kathy that one night, all that was ringing in his ear were the words she had said to him: You weren’t there. And when you’re not there when something terrible happens to someone you love, all the what-ifs can eat you alive. Kathy got lucky, and was spared her bad outcome (and I think that was just enough for Benny to keep rationalizing his unattached lifestyle, though what-might-have-been had created the first chink in his armor), but Johnny was not so lucky. So I think by the end, he wanted to be there for Kathy. I think it was a conscious choice he made, and one that he doesn’t regret. Does he miss riding? Sure. But I don’t think he wanted to be with the Vandals the way they were by the end of the movie - he just missed the good ol’ days. After Johnny died, I don’t think it was a choice between Benny’s domestication and freedom anymore - I think it became a choice between his love of a person over the particular definition of freedom he had been clinging to. I think he wanted to avoid anything terrible happening in his absence again, and his smile at the end pretty much says: The person I love is okay, and every day I get to see proof of that.

[beefrobeefcal]

Dark!Frankie Saga: VIII

Chapter Eight: Linger

Pairing: Dark!Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Summary:

Boston. The Frontiersmen is a crime syndicate that deals in drugs, arms, and anything else they can to keep themselves on top. Since the original ring leader, Tom, was allegedly taken out by a rival gang, it's now run by Big Fish, with Pope second in command. Ironhead runs the numbers and Benny is the muscle. Your family member put you down as collateral when they needed credit to score more smack. Problem is, they can't pay it back, and Big Fish & the Frontiersmen always get their payment...

Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI)

Chapter Word Count: 4,438

Content Warning: smutty smutty smut smut, angst, threats of violence, crime, snark, violence, betrayal, kissing, abduction, brutal beating, blood, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in the v (unwrapped), cream pie, Big Fish is a bad man

Author's Notes: I know the wait is finally over! Please send any and all complaints to the THOT TANK for further discussion I hope you'll forgive what a deceitful beef I have been. But I'm just getting started...

The biggest, juiciest, wettest thank you to @neverwheremoonchild for being the Beta Fish for Big Fish (get it? Beta'ing the story about Big Fi-... okay, you got it). Thank you, Nevy! 💜🥩💜

thank you to the following for being supportive good eggs & sounding boards: @theywhowriteandknowthings @toxicanonymity @xdaddysprincessxx @thehalflifeofloveisforever @umnitsa @softpascalito @noxturnalpascal

And this is not the Chubby!Frankie we know and love in the Catfish & the Mouse universe; he's dark, mean, and hungry. I'll be updating this each week (Monday/Tuesday) until you lose interest or I finish it - let's see what happens first! when i feel like it👌

On the Waterfront Masterlist | Previous Chapter

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Your back hit Frankie’s mattress, leaving your legs dangling off the end, his thighs between them and pushing yours open. Leaning down, he slid his hands down your legs and under your sweatshirt, gripping your leggings and pulling them off, along with your underwear. His eyes didn’t leave yours until your core was open and exposed for him. 

“Mr. Morales...”, you breathed, needy and desperate. 

“Babygirl... “, he crooned, crawling up you and pulling your core roughly against his denim-clad hard on. “Can't call me that when I - ” 

You let out a whining moan as he rutted against you, feeling the fabric get hot and damp from your arousal smearing across his crotch.  

“You call me Frankie when I’m fuckin’ you.” 

***** 

Benny knew you were done with him now. His outburst had solidified that. As he sat and let the horrible incident replay over and over in his head, he became sullen and devastated. He couldn’t let it go. After Will stuck him in Frankie’s office to cool down and left him to find Pope, Benny's temper had finally died down, leaving him alone with the image of your heartbroken face in his mind. And then Frankie... 

Fuck Fish. Fuck him and his fuckin’ fucked up, cruel prerogative. 

He knew what would happen next. Frankie would get to walk in and pick up your pieces and make you believe you were loved. He knew Frankie could be gentle, he’d seen it before, and even he was fooled into thinking the Big Fish had a heart. But he knew the price that was paid each time he let that side out, and it made Benny sick to think how carefully he would handle each one of your shards as he put you back together with the promise of him being a good man. A fucking lie. All of it. Frankie was no better than any of them, and in some ways, he was worse. He, just like Will and Pope, could pass in the real world as normal, adjusted, and good people, and that made all three of them dangerous, but Frankie was worse.  Will could come off as cold, and Pope would always have something off about him, and Benny was okay until his temper took over, but Frankie... he knew how to gain people’s trust better. With his big brown eyes and his quiet nature, he could charm anyone with little effort, and you’d be in the throes of being consumed by him before you realized just how fucked up he really was.  

Benny realized he had unintentionally laid the perfect path for you to fall right into Frankie's arms and drown in him. Like so many girls before you. 

***** 

You keened and arched your back as Frankie opened you up with his fingers, and his mouth tongued and sucked on your over sensitive bud. One hand firmly gripping his hair and the other, having pushed up your shirt, twisting your nipple, you cried out and came hard. He growled, pulling more from you, and not letting up, and your cries became high-pitched whines. When he finally released you, giving you a reprieve, your body let go of all its tension and went limp, leaving you panting. He stood up, smiling, and removed his clothing.  

“Shirt off. Wanna feel all of you, gorgeous.”, he said quietly. Despite the soft tone and gentle look in his eyes in the dimly lit room, you knew it was a demand - an order - and you obeyed. 

His eyes wandered over your body as his hulking frame approached the bed, and his thick, heavy hard cock bobbed and wept with every movement.  

“So fuckin’ pretty...”, he huffed as he crawled between your legs, his stomach pushing you into the mattress as you felt the full weight of his body precariously brushing against yours. 

“So big...”, you mewled in a whisper in response.  

“Big, huh, baby? You like me big?”, he grunted in response and his plump tip pushed against your aching, worked-over hole. 

“Please... plea - ugh!” 

Your pleas were cut short as he pushed into you. He gave you no time to adjust to his thick intrusion, and he hushed you as you gasped and dug your nails into his shoulders. 

“Good girl... you can take it... relax... good girl... oh, fuck, take it... take it... jesus... fuck!” 

He stopped about halfway, pulling back, before he thrusted all the way in with his hands on either side of your head, propping him up. He kept eye contact, watching your face and every twitch and twist it made as he seated himself deeply in you, 

“Fuck... got me out of breath... so fuckin’ pretty...”, he panted.  

He was struggling to regain his composure as you fluttered and spasmed around him; it felt like the air was being forced out of your lungs. 

“I-I need, you... need you to move... please, move!” 

“Tell me, baby girl...��� He licked his lips and looked down at you heavy lidded with his mouth pulled up on one side in a smile. “Tell me your mine.” 

A choked whine came out as you nodded your head to him. 

“Say it... say you’re mine, baby... say... say I’m yours...” 

“You’re m-mine...” 

“My name, Honey...” 

“Frankie...Frankie... my Big Fish...” 

You felt your toes curl as one knee hitched up on his hip when he began to rock into you. He slowly brought himself down to his elbows and you were fully pinned down by his bodyweight. He dug his face into your neck and breathed you in and your hands held onto his shoulder and hair. Frankie kept his pace, hitting a sweet spot over and over. 

“First time – the first time I saw you... fuckin’ knew... gotta relax, Honey...fuck... fuck... make those sweet noises for me, baby... fuckin’ knew I was yours... god, so pretty... then you fuckin’ made that shephard’s-jesus, yeah... oh fuck, yes... that’s it... so good, baby girl...” 

He brought his face up and nudged his nose to yours. “You’re too fuckin’ good, Honey.”, he whispered against your mouth as he kissed you. 

***** 

He’d been alone in the office for longer than he realized, mulling over everything, when Benny looked up to the dated clock on the wall. He had no idea why Will was taking so long to find that little smug shit, Pope. Fucking Pope. 

Benny was lost in his thoughts again when he heard frantic footsteps out in the hallway, coming towards him. The door burst open, and Pope had a panicked look on his face. He ran towards Benny and grabbed his arms. 

“Benny! Ben? Will... Will- where is he??” 

“He went to find you-why? What happened?” 

“No... I didn’t see him... but outside... outside... in the alley... I... no... Will!” 

Benny’s eyes went wide, and he pushed Pope off him. “What’s in the alley?!?” 

“I went to... to find him and there’s blood... there’s blood and his phone...” 

Benny’s whole body was pumbled by a wave of cold dread. His mouth went dry, and he had to fight to speak.  

“Wh-what...Pope... Santi... no... no... show me.” 

***** 

“Give me another... come on, babygirl... gimme another... lemme feel it...I’m close... fuck... come on... come on...” 

You threw your head back as he pounded into you, digging your nails into his sweaty back and shoulders. Every time his hips ground flush with yours, you felt like you were being split apart in deliciously harsh ecstasy, and you could feel another orgasm slipping along your spine to your core. You felt your body start to shake and tears welled up in your eyes. 

“Fish... Frankie... I need... please...” 

Frankie’s mind reeled. He’d opened himself up and, instead of just claiming you like he had planned, he’d allowed you to call him yours. His fractured self-worth wouldn't let him surrender that easily, and the cold, hard walls that he’d let you slip past refortified, forcing you back out. He knew he could only let you in long enough to get you where he wanted you and what he needed from you – your surrender. 

His hand moved and wiped an errant tear from your temple and your hand went to his face. Your soft eyes bore into his and Frankie knew in that very moment he was going to hurt you; it was inevitable. You’d gotten under his skin, and he had to get you out because you were too good.  

Before your fingers could commit each prickle of his stubble to memory, he grabbed your hand roughly and pinned it above your head, then grabbed the other. He shifted the angle of his hips, and his eyes went dark – cold and hard – like a switch had been flipped, like he saw you as nothing but a hole to fuck and take as his. He snapped his hips sharply, knocking the wind out of you. It was harsh and felt less like the lovemaking he had been giving you and more like he was getting what he wanted out of this.  

It was almost too much, but the feeling of his cock bruising you inside, his heavy sweating body smashing into you on the outside, and his intimately intense stare made that hot coil spring free, and you came crying out his name.  

“Give it to me... good... fuckin’... girl... that’s it... yeah... give it to me... jesus... so fuckin’ wet... oh fuck... baby girl... fuck... gonna come in you... you’re mine... mine... fuckin’ mine... mine... mine, mine, mine!” 

You felt his pace falter then slow as he pushed deep into you. He groaned loudly and you felt him throb as he unloaded into you. He stilled, breathing hard, and, despite your best efforts, avoided eye contact.  

“Frankie?”, you murmured, unsure of what had happened or if you had done something wrong. Your stomach twisted as dread began to fill your senses. Your hand shakily found his cheek, and, thankfully, he leaned into your touch. 

He turned his head and kissed the palm of your hand, then finally looked you in the eye. His own were back to his brown softness again, and relief washed over you as you felt your heart beat in your throat. You smiled softly at him, and he returned one in kind, but it felt hollow.  

You pushed those feelings aside while you tried to bask in the afterglow. 

***** 

Benny screamed out, dropping to his knees in the parking lot outside the Frontiersmen’s building. They’d searched everywhere and all they found was Will’s smashed cell phone, tire treads, and bloody drag marks that started in the alley with a deep scarlet pool of blood. The security cameras only showed an unmarked van pull into the lot then out of it. Beyond this, they had nothing else. 

“Ben... dude... we’ll find him.” 

Pope squatted beside him and placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. He felt the younger man’s shoulders shake as small, quiet sobs wracked his body. 

“Where is he?? Who did this???”, Benny screamed out, agony tearing at his throat.  

“We gotta... we gott tell Fish... get Fish.” 

***** 

You opened your eyes and saw that Frankie had his back to you, facing the wall, and you felt cold. Despite him being right beside you, and not having a wall between you, he felt farther away than ever, and that hollowness, that dread that you’d managed to suppress was washing over you in waves. Just as you reached out to touch his wide, freckled back, you heard an anguished scream from outside.  

Frankie shot up right, and in his haste to get out of bed, shoved you out of his way harshly and quickly started putting his pants on. 

“Get dressed.”, he snapped, not looking at you. 

You sat frozen on the bed, the blanket pulled up to your chin, not sure what to make of his dismissive and cold attitude in combination with the activity outside. When he noticed your lack of movement, he snapped his fingers at you. 

“Hey! I told you to get dressed! Fuckin’ listen!” 

You jumped at his aggressive tone and made quick work getting your clothing back on. As you pulled your sweatshirt over your head, he motioned to the door.  

“Go to your room. If I need you, I’ll get you.” 

Cold. His voice, his glare, his words, his stance... he was cold to you. And it stung. You nodded and left his room, keeping your head low so that he wouldn’t see the tears welling up in your eyes. 

You closed your door, noting that the latch for the knob was no longer working. Sliding down the back of the door, you sobbed into your knees. 

Frankie left his room and as he lingered outside of yours, he heard you; your quiet hitched breaths and soft whimpers punctured him, and it hurt more than he thought he could. But he couldn’t let his guard down again; he couldn’t be gentle or soft or anything else you would need. He couldn’t give you what he refused to acknowledge but he knew was true – himself to you completely. He couldn’t love you. But his warped thinking and broken psyche told him he didn’t need to offer any explanation. He was Frankie ‘Big Fish’ Morales, head of the Frontiersmen, and he didn’t have to answer to anyone, including you. Frankie made up his mind and convinced himself you knew this was what it had to be, and you were going to be fine with it. He pulled himself away from your door, wiping his eyes quickly as he exited the hallway into the common room. 

***** 

Loud noises and yelling interrupted your crying, and you pressed your ear to the door while wiping your eyes. You could hear Benny, shrieking and panicking, as well as muffled yelling from both Frankie and Pope. You could only make out the odd word like ‘Will’ and ‘Gone’ from Benny. 

Challenging your own fears of Frankie’s retribution, you left your room and pushed open the door, and saw Pope holding Benny back as he screamed at Fish. 

“YOU FUCKER! YOU FUCKIN’ TRAITOR! YOU GO OUT AND YOU FIND HIM!” 

“Ben - if he’s gone, he’s gone. Make your fuckin’ peace!” 

“YOU STUPID FAT FUCK! I FUCKIN’ HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!!” 

Pope saw you first, turning his head causing Frankie to look and he scowled at you. 

“I fuckin’ told you to stay in your fuckin’ room!”, he boomed, pointing towards the doorway you’d come through.  

You clenched your fists and stood your ground, but Benny ripping himself from Pope’s grip shifting his focus once again. 

“Honey, tell him! Tell Fish he has to find Will! Please! Make him!”, Benny pleaded, grabbing your arms.  

His blue irises seemed to shine brighter in contrast with the bloodshot whites of his eyes, and his cheeks were red and tearstained. You were so confused but your heart broke for him none the less. 

Before you could answer, Frankie grabbed the hood of his sweatshirt and ripped him away from you.  

“Don’t you fuckin’ touch her! She’s not yours to fuckin’ even look at!”, Frankie bellowed as Benny fell back onto the floor. Benny watched in horror as Frankie snapped his fingers at you and aggressively motioned for you to stand next to him. But what really twisted the knife was watching you obediently take your place at his side and look up at him. He could never know the terror and heartache you felt, knowingly being used to show everyone that you were nothing more than a thing Frankie owned and controlled. You felt shame as Frankie’s big hand gripped your shoulder, ferociously pulling you against him.  

“You fuckin’ slut! You’re nothin’ but another one of his fuckin’ whores!” 

“Benny... Benny, stop! You don’t underst - “ 

You looked at Benny, shaking your head. You felt Frankie’s grip on you tighten painfully and looking up at him, you saw his jaw clenched tight. Benny stood up, baring his teeth at you like a rabid dog. Turning your gaze back to him, his eyes burned into yours as he stepped closer to you.  

“You think you’re he’s special ‘baby girl’? You think you're the first? You’re just the latest in a fuckin’ convoy of stupid bitches who fell for his bullshit! Do you know what he did to the last one? She fucked Pope!” 

Frankie’s grip on your shoulder loosened up, but you could feel his breathing pick up. 

“Pope is still here! Do you know where she is? Do you know what he does to people?” 

“Benny...”, Frankie warned in a low growl. 

Benny’s face contorted in grief and rage, yelling, “No! No, Fish! You can’t do this to her! Did you tell her about her brother?! Or were you gonna wait until after you fucked her??” 

You looked at Frankie, but his eyes were trained on Benny. You looked back at Benny, but Pope’s disconcerting grin as he watched the two men caught your attention. You watched as he brought his phone up, sent a text, then winked at you. 

“Does she know what happens to people you don’t need anymore?” 

“BENNY! SHUT YOUR FUCKIN’ MOUTH!”, Frankie snarled, pointing at Benny. 

It was like watching two bull dogs circle each other, waiting for the other to make a move. 

A four or five other men came into the room, seemingly at Pope’s message, all of whom you recognized from your time in the compound; they stood with Pope, observing the scene before them, not daring to get involved. You looked back at Benny and Frankie, and let out a sob. 

“What... what happened to Steven?” 

Your small, timid, tear-cracked voice paused the tension, and while Benny looked at you, Frankie continued to stare down at Benny. 

“He’s dead.”, Benny spat out at you. “And it won’t be long before you join him because - “, Benny pointed at Frankie, “he’s a fuckin’ monster!” 

It hit you like a kick in the chest. Yes, he was a drug addict. Yes, he made your family go broke. Yes, he was a selfish asshole. Yes, he pawned you for his next fix. But he was your brother, and he was dead. The weight of Benny’s words hung heavy around your neck, feeling like you were being pulled to the floor. Sorrow, despair, grief and fear pulled at you, tearing into your chest, and you felt like you couldn’t take a breath deep enough to stay afloat. 

You were so lost in your own pain you didn’t realize Frankie was lunging at Benny, knocking him to the ground again. What brought you back were the sickening sounds of flesh being pulverized by fists and Benny screaming. 

Frankie’s large body was straddling Benny’s, and he landed blow after blow, yelling and berating him.  

"THINK YOU’RE SO FUCKIN’ TOUGH? YOU’RE A FUCKIN’ DOG. S’ONLY REASON I KEEP YOU AROUND!” 

Benny screamed out in pain as Frankie’s fist made contact with his cheek and a sickening crack sounded out. 

“BREAK THAT PRETTY LITTLE FACE!” 

Pope nodded and the men standing around him moved towards Frankie, attempting to pull him off Benny. 

“GET YOUR FUCKIN’ HANDS OFF ME!” 

He ripped his arms away from the men and tried to land another blow on Benny, but he was held back again by three men, while the other two got Benny up and carried him out of the room. You saw Benny’s bloody face, almost unrecognizable and you saw Frankie’s hands stained and dripping crimson. 

Pope smirked at your horrified expression as he walked in front of Frankie, facing him. Frankie struggled against the men’s hold as much as they did holding him back. He was stil breathing hard in his blind rage. 

“You still got a mean temper, buddy. Even worse now that you’re Big  Fish, huh? I almost forgot how brutal you can be. But Fish… you scared your girl.”, he said quietly with a small grin, but loud enough for you to hear. “Calm down and I’m sure she’ll still suck your dick.” 

Frankie turned and looked at you, and you trembled. His whole face softened as he watched you step back and run back through the door to the bedrooms.  

“No! No Honey!”, he yelled out, throwing the men off him and running after you. 

You ran into your room and propped the chair under the doorknob. Frankie banged on the door.  

“No, baby, please! I’m sorry!” 

He pushed the door open, making the shitty carpet crease under the chair’s legs, and you saw his whole front was speckled in Benny’s blood. You couldn’t breathe; your whole body tensed hard enough that you felt like you were suffocating. 

He reached out, gently trying to coax you to him. Your eyes trained on his blood-stained hands, your mind racing with the violence they were proven to be capable of. You jumped back from him, hitting the wall behind you. 

“No! NO!”, you shrieked, panicking with your back against the wall while he cautiously moved towards you.  

Frankie felt his heart sink. “No… no no no no no! No, It’s me, baby girl… it’s your Frankie… I’m yours! I’m not going to hurt you… please baby!” 

Letting out a shaky whine as he approached you, Frankie tried to offer you a reassuring smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes; they were anything but happy. The lingering threads of fury mixed with grief and panic painted them deep mahogany, and there wasn’t an ounce of that colour you could trust. But you had to know the truth. 

“Did you know? D-did you know Steven was… was d-dead??” 

He paused and silently pleaded with you to skip this whole thing and let him take you to bed, to comfort and hold you, and to make you forget – if even for a minute – what a horrible person he was. And let him forget, too. 

“Honey… I… baby, lemme make you feel good… you know I can…” 

But your face didn’t change. It didn’t crack or twinge or show any signs that he was winning, Frankie sighed. “I knew… but you were so upset… I didn’t want to hurt you more…I thought I-” 

He stopped himself when he saw your body tense and your eyes narrow. You saw red. Yes, you were scared, but your anger took over. 

“You piece of shit!”, you screamed as you shoved him back. “You don’t give a shit about hurting me! You fucked me and then made me feel like I was nothing to you! You’re a monster! I don’t want you!” 

“You don’t mean that, baby… I know you don’t… I know you’re scared!”, he pleaded, trying to pull you to him. “I’m sorry! Please… lemma make it better, baby!” 

You slapped your hands on his body, crying, trying anything to get him away from you. He grabbed your wrists, and the smell of blood was overwhelming. You let out a scream, and Frankie grabbed you, forcing you into his hold. 

“Come on… it’s me… don’t fight me, baby girl… please… it’s me, your Frankie…” 

You thrashed against him, struggling to escape his grasp. Frankie was desperate to calm you, but his patience was running out. You kicked out one of your legs, and your heel came into contact with his kneecap. He let you go, and you gasped into your hands. 

“Mother fucker!”, he yelled, letting you go and bending over to hold his knee. 

“Frankie! I-I’m sorry! I didn’t- “ 

“You fuckin’ little BITCH!”, he spat at you, eyes snapping up to your face.  

Your blood ran cold as Frankie stood to his full height and towered over you. You were convinced his next action would be the last you would ever witness. 

“I gave you a fuckin’ chance! You wanna play stupid fuckin’ games? Huh?” Frankie got his face uncomfortably close to yours and once again, you could smell the sick metallic scent of blood on him as his hand gripped your neck. “Listen to me carefully. I own you. I own your life. And do you know what that makes you? A fuckin’ dead junkie’s whore sister.” 

“Frankie… I’m sorry – “ 

“Shut you fuckin’ mouth when I’m talking.” 

The low register of his tone reverberated in your body, and he stood back, releasing your neck. He needed to hurt you like you hurt him, but he couldn’t bring himself to hit you, not now. Not with that look on your face and your chin quivering. But he needed to hurt you like your rejection hurt him. His eyes caught the Kindle sitting on your bedside table, and he felt like he was winning again. He looked back at you.  

“Whores don’t read.”, he snarled, then snatched up the Kindle. 

“Frankie, no! No!”, you shrieked again, reaching up for your only escape. 

He held the Kindle out of your reach and gripped it in both hands, bending it until you heard plastic and metal snap and break. Frankie watched as you screamed out with your eyes fixed on the destruction of your only respite, your only comfort.  

What he didn’t anticipate was the immense guilt that crashed over him as you looked him in the eye with absolute horror on your face. He also wasn’t expecting you to turn and run out of the room, bolting as fast as you could to get away from him. 

You had no idea where you were going, but you let your feet take you through the common room, through the hallway… You were coming up to Frankie’s office when Pope walked out from around the corner and grabbed you, holding your back flush to his front. 

You went to scream, but Pope covered your mouth with a chemical smelling cloth as he cooed softly in your ear, and everything began to fade around you. 

“Don’t worry, baby girl…  I got you.” 

***** 

The sounds that surrounded him fogged his brain. When he opened his heavy eyelids, he saw nothing but dark and light faded shapes, his eyes wouldn’t focus and the ache that throbbed behind them in his skull was only exceeded by the sharp pain in his abdomen with each breath he took.  

Where the hell was he? He tried thinking back to what he could remember, to try and get his bearings, but the last thing he could see was Santi walking away after...  

No...  

No Santi... he didn’t... 

“Well, Mr. Miller...”, a deep, unfamiliar voice boomed, breaking him from his waking nightmare. “Welcome back to the land of the living.” 

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TAGLIST: @theywhowriteandknowthings @harryleatherfit @toxicanonymity @harriedandharassed @neverwheremoonchild @rebel-held @beee-haw @nevergoingbacknowshine @idolatrybarbie @v4vayha @lalocitos @xdaddysprincessxx @deathsholywaterr @heareball @lyssramscal @wintrwinchestr @nerdieforpedro  @southernbe @starkeydaviss @noxturnalpascal@not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @vabeachazn @clawdee @iamasaddie @tightjeansjavi @rubyfruitjungle

[smoshmonker]

wrote a somewhat sweet fic for my favorite smosh characters benny jean and cletus <3 (thank you to ana for encouraging me)

words: 876

If there was one thing Benny Jean loved in this world, it was his flamingo, standing proudly on the lawn.

There wasn’t much else. He never settled down, he hated loud music and all of the fancy, newfangled things that took the world by storm these days. In fact, most people annoyed him to no end. Most annoying of all, of course, was his greatest and only friend, Cletus.

Cletus was loud and stupid. Benny Jean could tell him something four times and it would go in one ear and out the other, which led to a lot of arguments, but Benny Jean could never bring himself to fight with him for long. No matter how old they got, Cletus’ eyes were always so bright and innocent. He looked up to him.

Staring up at the sunset, Benny Jean breathed in the early evening air. It had been a peaceful day with Cletus gone visiting his parents. Surprisingly, he found himself feeling a little uncomfortable with how quiet it had been, and even more surprisingly, found himself relieved when he could see a camouflage shirt appear in his peripheral.

“How’s it goin’, Benny Jean?” Cletus asked, sitting in his designated chair beside him. “Mighty nice night outside.”

“Yep,” he agreed, allowing himself one sideways glance for a moment before returning his gaze to the sky. It was streaked with purple, but would only stay that way for a few more moments before it became completely darkened. “How was yer trip?”

Cletus sighed, placing his hands in his vest pockets. He seemed to hesitate before continuing. “Same old. Ma still don’t like that I never found a nice wife, had kids. Pa was drunk the whole time I was ‘round. Barely got a thing outta him, besides…”

Turning his head, Benny Jean took Cletus in for a moment. He’d always known his relationship with his parents was rocky, but he didn’t usually talk about it. Quietly, he encouraged, “Beside what?”

“Callin’ me dumb, like usual,” Cletus responded, looking down at his hands in his vest pockets.

A string of curses ran through Benny Jean’s head at that moment. He was never good at this emotional crap, but he didn’t have a choice here. “He don’t know what he’s talkin’ about.”

Cletus frowned a little, perhaps confusion on his face as he looked up at him for the first time. “But, Benny Jean, you call me dumb all the time, too.” When he didn’t have an answer for that, Cletus sighed again. “Look, I know I ain’t smart. I just wish I didn’t hafta hear it from my own family.”

Slowly, Benny Jean tightened his grip on the armrest. There was a fire in his chest that he wasn’t used to, and it made him incredibly uncomfortable. “He don’t know what he’s talkin’ about,” he said again, more firmly this time. “You may be dumb, Cletus, but you ain’t stupid. All my ma ever talked about before she died was why I never settled down either, but ya know what? We don’t owe ‘em a damn thing! Just ‘cause they raised us don’t mean they get to choose what we do with our goddamn lives. And I choose to sit here, with you, and my pet flamingo.”

Cletus stared at him with his usual wide-eyed expression, but there was something more to it now. Perhaps it was the slight shine to them. “...You really mean that?”

“As sure as a hungry raccoon in a dumpster!” Benny Jean stared back at Cletus, then sighed. “And…I’m sorry for callin’ you stupid all the time. I didn’t realize it hurt ya.”

For a moment, the only sound between them was the sound of crickets at their feet. Then, Cletus broke into a wide smile. “Benny Jean, I think that’s the nicest thing you ever said to me!”

“Agh! Don’t get used to it, Cletus!”

As he was regretting saying it, however, he noticed Cletus’ smile turn a bit more genuine as he looked up at the darkening sky again. “For some reason, when you call me dumb, it don’t hurt as bad. I reckon it’s ‘cause you’re my best friend.”

The fire in his chest made Benny Jean’s heart skip a beat. “Best friend?”

“Yeah, best friend. Ain’t we?”

Biting down on his lip to hide his smile, Benny Jean looked up at the sky, too. “Guess so.”

Comfortable silence fell between them, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. When familiar snoring filled the air minutes later, Benny Jean glanced over at his best friend, his head thrown back against the chair, mouth wide open, hands still loosely in his vest pockets. Knowing no one would see it, Benny Jean allowed himself to smile as he reached back to grab the blanket resting on the cooler. He got up, placing it around Cletus’ shoulders, who mumbled something about possums before returning to his snores.

Benny Jean sat back down, his gaze lifting up to a bright crescent moon. He’d wake him to go inside in a few minutes, but right now, he wanted to enjoy this peace.

Cletus was his biggest annoyance, but at the end of the day, he was also his very best friend.

[theautistichalflinghole]

Fanfic concepts that im like 99% sure I'll never write (because im not a writer [yet]) but im writing them down in the hopes that someone will/has

they say you should manifest what you want so im just gonna write ideas, post it when i fall asleep and then add to it later with reblogs (if any of these exist or get written please reblog or ask to let me know and I will love you forever)

a fic with any combination of kujou sara/ei/yae miko/sangonomiya kokomi where sara is injured in battle and put into a coma or some sort of vunerable life threatening status, hurt comfort obviously becuase i cannot handle unhappy endings, preferably pre relationship so some realizations can occur, this probably wouldnt be too hard to find but there are some specific scenarious I imagine within this one such as: ei finding out about saras injury and shooting across inazuma in the form of lightening to get her, a little bit of political conflict if she were to get injured in watatsumi and is in kokomis care, and i did say any conflict but preferabbly all four??

kaebedo meeting as kids (rhinedottir wants to socialize her new experiment or kaeya goes about wandering the palace and finds him, what have you) and then recognizing eachother (or only albedo doing so) when A joins the knights

ORRR consider bebe kaeya meeting a prototype of albedo (rubedo fic writers im looking at you) who looks exactly the same so he is freaking out and albedo has no fucking idea why (and then, once they start dating, rubedo shows up and does... something)

razor/bennet/fischl sic fic where bennys bad luck makes it so he and fischl have medical procedues scheduled on the same day, and everyone else except for razor are busy while theyre in recovery, cute little sic fic opportunity, this can honestly work for any sort of illness or medical issue that makes you loopy or in pain but i personally would love t4t4t where fischl and benny are both recovering from un reschedulable top surgery

i know i literally just said i hate unhappy endings but consider... xiaoven ( or honestly any ship w/ xiao but thats the one i like) where xiao always expected to die and leave venti in mourning so he pushes him away.... and then venti fucking dies (or goes into eepy time for a while if you want amiguous or happy ending)

just more venti sleep fics, but specifically venti unexpectedly goes into one of his sleeps and his partner has to wait for him, not knowing if hell wake up in a few days a few years a few hundred years or ever... also consider venti falling asleep with his partner saying theyll wait for him, and then them being long dead/gone (opportunity for a reincarnation fic) (this one defiently exists in some form with multiple ships but like... papa me want more movie, also hard to fine because like what tags do i even search for with this is there a tag for venti goes to eepy?? "a mirmir venti (genshin impact)" )

Scara ship fic (chiscara??? please???) where they truly do not remember scara at all, no random tears no familiar feelings or suspicion, hes been entierly wiped. a bit of angst and mourning from scara before he decides he cant accept this and tries to make the first move and they slowly fall in love again. (Literally every fic ive read of chiscara has childe make the first move and I understand its because scara is the most emotionally constipated man to ever be written but I feel like them already being in a relationship pre wipe+ the backstory of him having lots of time in sumeru to heal would make it not tooo ooc)

[therummonster]

not so brief skit of a "friendly" conversation between Benny and Archibald.

benny: alright, you want to talk. the other 2 have passed out and zashchitnik is in their own dimension.

archi(pouring a glass of wine): good good. brief starter question, do you drink?

benny: nah, literally not allowed to by any of my family. and cham started agreeing with them after i introduced him for some reason..?

archi: hmm.. i'll have to look into that later...

benny(pouring a glass of water): if i hear from any of em that a gopher harassed em i will start "messing up" on tech i give you.

archi: and here i thought you were done with pointless threats!

benny: no, i'm giving you a chance while still being ready to make stew.

archi: make stew...? never mind. i have different questions, and things i've noticed.

benny(finally taking a seat): like what?

archi: that for one, your pain tolerance is high only because you've been hit and torn apart so much you can't feel low pain levels. and-

benny: blah blah, i already know. and you were going to say i wasn't letting that jake kid heal me because then i would feel things.

archi: hmm.. good you do have some sort of awareness.

benny: please. this is a skit done by someone that draws me as a dog getting the absolute garbage beaten out of it.

archi: ... i swear you make no sense...

benny: if only ya knew..

archi: anyways, in that case... why do you keep calling yourself the "pillar of morality" if you have almost no morals of your own.

benny: ...

archi: glad to see i found something you didn't-

benny: you do realize that someone out there was always the first person to come up with things. our group was not the first one to say killing was immoral.

archi: ... i may need more info than-

benny: like there is a chance some more specific morals are made from specific occasions. for instance don't cheat at cards then run away bleeding out while being hunted only to get found by a blob who will later have your location, cause otherwise you'll be dealing with all kinds of goons from there.

archi: that is... really specific.

benny: but the more vague ones... what could they mean? no killing.

archi: no killing isn't vague-

benny: some children find joy in watching ants get burned, or those really bad villains suffering off screen.

archi: well-

benny: and we generate cells that die in... like 3 years? did i get that right?

archi: now let me spea-

benny: you don't know either you just searched it up and it said 100000 cells die every second? oof. guess we'll never know!

archi: who are you talking to???

benny: continuing! we kill plants so we can nourish ourselves. my point is, murder is more specific because that means something that means something died.

archi: ffffffffffine i guess you're right. but that doesn't change the fact the only reason you have "morals" is because of the others.

benny: yeah.

archi: just.. just "yeah" is your answer????

benny: let me explain it in a way i've scrapped together. i am a code.

archi: ???

benny: each of my morals are a different kind of code. people are connected to bits of it. you take out a strip of code and the entire program will either still work without it, or it'll be reduced to a functionless mess.

archi: well... i guess that does make sense.

benny(glaring at archibald): which means, if you kill enough of the right people, i will lose those morals. eventually deciding to just delete all of them, and gutting whoever decided to get on the wrong side of me or anyone else in the sharp tank.

archi: you're so problematic! yet you still don't tell the others..

benny: if you want to tell em, be my guest.

[runninguplenorahills]

Eddie's death was definitely stupidly written, but he's not the first character to receive a similar death. I've always thought Bob's death was ridiculous as heck... like, why would he just stand there and look at Joyce lmao? I dislike the way these characters are killed off or just written off sometimes. Because you know that they are killed off to include deaths on the show since the mains do not die.

True! I so vividly remember watching Bob die for the first time and thinking that it was so incredibly stupid from him to stop fucking running 😭

But well, Bob was originally supposed to be killed by Will…… which would’ve been…. Uhm… something.

Still, getting mauled was at least something he couldn’t escape anymore once the demodog tripped him, while Eddie literally brought it upon himself to die lmao. Like, I said this before but fighting was literally not necessary at all in his situation💀💀

And the thing is, it’s not a bad thing for the side characters to die. Benny, Barb and Bob all died in a way that more or less made sense. Their deaths didn’t feel wrong because they had actual purposes and it wasn’t so overwhelmingly obvious that they just died because they’re side characters, like it was with Alexei and Eddie. Those two really did not have to die though I’m giving it to Alexei that he couldn’t really do anything when he got shot. Like…… I guess Eddie died a hero but a really stupid one😭

[chiimeramanticore]

any thoughts/headcanons/ideas/takes you feel compelled to share on a whim? about anything in particular?

this is an older ask thats been sitting in my inbox but i wanna use it as my opportunity to talk about benny while im still fnvposting bc BOY do i have thoughts about benny and BOY do i have a story for you guys

so as i briefly mentioned before, i had decided to do the yes man route before i even played the game bc i just wanted to play for him at first lol. i didnt know how closely tied yes man was to benny before meeting him- my main 2 goals were "get that bastard who shot me" and "find my robot boyfriend" lmao

when i got to the strip and confronted benny, he convinced me to go up to the presidential suite and told me he'd meet me there- ofc this was a trap, but with a good speech check (like i said, a good speech check makes for some of my favorite moments in the game) i managed to convince him to let me go . i dont even remember what i said (i think it was something like "if you let me go i won't follow you") but i remember he was like ".....i cant believe im actually letting you live" and in that moment i was like Ohh im in this fuckers head now

since then ive been imagining this semi-homoerotic rivalry between us, a la tom and jerry or cooper and propeller knight lmao. he skipped town immediately made a run for the fort (obviously. him letting me live didnt mean he was done trying to take over vegas) and i ran after him bc. well i needed that chip too lmao . when i got to the fort i found him captured by the legion, and i finally had the opportunity to talk to him at length.

after learning his backstory and motivations, i realized, i dont actually hate benny nearly as much as i thought i did? like he's an asshole for sure, and he will always be the guy who shot me in the head lol but like, he wasnt like... evil yknow. i realized i saw a lot of myself in him- he's just one guy who took a look at the world and realized he didnt like any of it, and wanted to change it... but he's also only one guy. it felt like we started out in the same position, and he lost his way at some point. he kinda epitomized my own (in-character) fear that whatever i did with new vegas after taking over wouldn't be the right decisions to make. and god i felt bad for him

so i tried to let him go. twice lol . i went out of my way to find a stealth boy for him like he asked, but he was a stupid asshole and activated it immediately when i gave it to him and then we both died dfkghk so i did the bunker mission and went back to caesar and he was like "ok you can choose how benny dies" and i asked if he could be let go and he was like "haha youre funny. choose something or we're crucifying him" and i was like Okay Okay Sorry

if im being completely honest i felt bad for benny like this. i'd usurped his plans embarrassingly easily, and now he's tied up and on death row because of it. we'd had our exchanges in who had the upper hand, but i didnt wanna just kill him like this, it didn't feel fair. so i told him to fight me in the arena, and he was like. amused by the idea? and we got our stupid machetes from the legion and fought and it was clumsy and messy bc im not good with melee and he's just an npc but there was something kinda perfect and human about it

and then i got the final blow on him. and my game froze. it froze so bad i had to force shut down my pc . the next day i turned it on and guess whose copy of fnv was completely busted! like loading any save or starting a new game would immediately crash the game kind of busted. and then i went to open yes man and SOMEHOW his data was entirely wiped . and i was CRUSHED because that's!!! that's the reason i started playing fnv to begin with!! i put a month of play time into him!! i'd maxed out my relationship with him!! i didnt know if i could even get that progress back!! but i had to go to work and i couldnt stick around to find out!

so i spent ALL day on friday anxious and sad and worried i wouldnt be able to fix things. it took me all weekend but i did eventually get everything fixed (extra special thank u to yes man's dev for helping me w him). but i swear to god i was convinced this was all somehow benny's doing. the game had frozen on a frame of benny mid-machete chest stab, and it was the last thing i saw before all of this happened. after our extended cat and mouse game, after all this back and forth, it felt like he was fucking me over one last time from beyond the grave and beyond even the limitations of the game. i took his life, he took my yes man. like seriously yes man was literally the only other program that was affected by the crash, it FELT targeted lmao

when i got the game working again, i had to replay the sequence where i killed benny and it didnt crash when i killed him this time. actually seeing him fall to the ground dead was oddly both cathartic and painful. i took his belongings (which felt kinda disrespectful but im sure he'd have wanted me to lol) and i left the fort wearing his suit. i gave yes man his gun (maria, which i love that he named, the loser)

i dont think benny was Right (though i dont think anyone in this game is meant to be entirely Right lol) but i also think he had the right idea going in. he's equal parts inspiring and a cautionary tale and i hate him just as much as i love him. he might be my favorite character in this game. i'll miss you, you asshole

[charles-simmons-fanfiction]

I want to talk about Mitzi Fabelman

I just watched The Fabelmans, and even though I already knew I would like it, I didn't expect it to this good and for it to feel this personal. Now, there are multiple things I could say about it, but what I really need to talk about is Mitzi, Sammy's mom.

I don't think I can truly express how much I love actually flawed characters. Characters that do actual mistakes, who are selfish, who really hurt others, and still aren't inherently bad. Because those are the character who feel real. In this case, it's different because she's not just a character, she's based off of an actual person, which only adds to that feeling. Mitzi feels complex, multidimensional. Out of all the characters, she's the one I can see as an real person the most (even though the whole family gives off this feeling too).

The image I get off her in the beginning of the movie is that she's this perfectly happy and artistic mom (almost that wife-that-dies-at-the beginning-of-the-movie vibe, y'know?), and I found interesting how much that view changed throughout the story. Partially is probably because Sam starts to get older and seeing things. Which leads to when he notices she's cheating on his dad with Bennie.

Then, Sammy starts to get colder with her, angrier too. Mitzi obviously notices and when he says he wishes she weren't his mother, she hits him. Something that she doesn't forget and feels extremely guilty about even months later. And the scene where she begs for him to forgive her hits particularly close to home to me (the one in the gifs above btw)

"I left a goddamn mark on your skin with the shape of my hand and I need you to say you forgive me for doing that"

She's not even saying a "sorry", that wouldn't be enough, they both know she's sorry, but she needs to know he forgives her. And we see once again how vulnerable Mitzi really is, and how aware she is of how much she's hurting the people who love her the most. But here's the thing: it would be so easy to decide she's the "villain" and the bad person, yet it is not that simple, and regardless of everything happening, we still understand her side so much.

"And yes, this is the most selfish thing I have ever done. But I've got to do this now, because Sammy, you do what your heart says you have to do. You don't owe anyone your life, not even me."

She knows how much her husbands loves and adores her, and she knows how much the divorce will impact her children, but most importantly, she knows it's a decision she has to take. Because sometimes, you have to put yourself first or else you'll never be happy.

"I don't know if it's the right thing, but it's a life and death thing for me."

I am in love with that, especially in a movie. Seeing a character actually take the "cruel and selfish" route for their lives, because it's still their lives, is incredible. To put all of the morality aside for once, because we can't live our life for others. And this acceptance that sometimes you will deliberately choose to do the bad thing just so you can be happy is very refreshing, and controversial, in a way.

I also particularly like seeing it in a mom. Our society tends to have a very strong mindset that the children should always come first in a mother's life, even if it makes her unhappy (and we do see how much Mitzi was hurting), so it's interesting to see her doing such a big decision only for herself and still getting sympathy.

Seriously, I could go on about all the amazing scenes with her and all the details there are and how they add to her complexity, but the main idea I had to say is already written. I love this movie, and I simply had to make this post, even not a single soul read it. But if you did though, thank you. Take care, and have a good day.

[allthemusic]

Week ending: 4 February 1954

Another two-song week, and we've got a first, possibly - the first song that I think just about everyone could sing at least one line from, regardless of where they're from. I could be wrong about that, of course, or overlooking something we've already heard. But this first song is definitely huge and still well known - though our other contender certainly has an interesting title...

That's Amore - Dean Martin (peaked at No. 2)

This is a big, cheesy slice of pizza quatro formaggio, or possibly a dish of steaming lasagna, but I really like it. Sorry, if you wanted me to have a more sophisticated opinion, it's just warm and sappy, and I love it. It's since become Dean Martin's signature song, and I can't object to that at all.

It was written for a film, The Caddy, which looks like it was a fairly lightweight comedy about a talented golfer afraid of playing in front of crowds who coaches his love interest's brother and ends up going into showbusiness with him. The plot looks thin and to be honest, quite silly, and has absolutely nothing obvious to do with this song.

As you might expect from this, the song is also very silly, from the overdramatic "In Napoli" introduction, which sets the scene almost like Shakespeare's "fair Verona" monologue in Romeo and Juliet, over these dramatic, minor chords.

The chords then immediately give way to something much happier and cod-folksy, with what sound like mandolins or zithers, and some marimbas, later on, and tambourines, and just a fairly upbeat waltz time.

And then the line people know: "When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza / That's amore / When the world seems to shine you've had too much wine / That's amore." D'aww, it's sappy but I love it.

It does then devolve into onomatopoeia, with bells going "ting-a-ling-a-ling" and hearts playing "tippy-tippy-tay, like a gay tarantella", and from there it gets properly nonsensical. Seriously, lines like "When you dance down the street with a cloud at your feet" would make the Surrealists proud.

While this would normally annoy me, I like it here, because it's a song about the way that falling in love makes you all goofy and leaves you in this sort of loved-up daze. So I can forgive some slightly awkward lyrics, because it echoes the awkwardness of just being absolutely besotted with someone.

It turns into a big party, at this point, with a mixec choir of backing singers chipping in, and a wild sequence of slow-downs and pauses. It's rowdy, in a warm, fun way, like a whole restaurant or inn full of Italian peasants are joining in with you, celebrating being in love. I like it.

And we keep going until a lovely, slow, slightly quieter ending. It's got drama from slowing down, but while it gains in intensity right at the end, Dean makes the very sensible decision not to go for the Big Old Ending that I hate so much. It makes the end of the song feel quite modern, in a way, or at least not as desperately outdated as most David Whitfield-type songs.

Dean, throughout, is really milking his Italian-American heritage, with lots of Italian dropped in throughout, and references to Italian cultural traditions and foods, and I think if I were Italian, or even Italian-American, like Dean, I'd probably feel some kind of way about all this. As a non-Italian, I can just enjoy the cultural pastiche. It does feel a bit like it belongs in a playlist with songs like Mambo Italiano and Nel blu dipinto di blu. You'd hear it playing at Frankie and Bennys, in the UK, it's that kind of vibe - not a bad vibe, but not the classiest.

What saves it is probably Dean's delivery, which always sounds like he's about to laugh, but not in a mean-spirited way, just in a good-natured kind of way. It's annoyed me in other songs, where he sounds a bit smug, but it's impossible to sound smug when you're singing this much nonsense, so it works here. Not a song for every occasion, but it's certainly a happy sort of song for the occasions where it does fit.

I should also say that it makes me think of the "When a fish bits your heel / And it looks like an eel / That's a moray" meme. Which is a niche genre of post that I will reblog every single time I see them, so that also wins this song some points, in my eyes. It's also probably a sign of how popular this song still is, the fact that you can make memes indirectly referencing it, and people of all generations absolutely know where the meme is going and get it, still. Huh.

Absolute banger, change my mind.

The Creep - Ken Mackintosh (10)

I thought this would be about a person who was somehow creepy, like a 1950s precursor to the Radiohead song. I was wrong, but in a good way - this song is such a fun find!

It starts, and you realise immediately that this is going to be a jazzy sort of instrumental, as we start with some striking repeated riffs on what sounds like a bass saxophone? We then get into a shuffling rhythm, and that keeps up for the rest of the track. It's a song that absolutely lives and dies on its heavy walking bass that sort of "creeps" up and down the scale.

It feels like it's doing a less menacing version of what the Dragnet theme did, packaging swing-y rhythms with this sort of heavy, cool, riff-driven sound. You would feel pretty great swaggering around to this, or I would at least!

About a minute in, we get a pretty exciting key change upwards that just ramps up the energy of the whole thing, culimating in this freewheeling, happy-sounding trumpet solo, as the trumpeter messes around over bass and some jazz drums. It's good fun, and it keeps being good fun when the rest of the band comes back in. Trumpets are having a bit of a moment, here in early 1954, and I'm really enjoying it!

You could use this track for the end credits of a film. It's instrumental, it's got just the right amount of happy, carefree vibes, it changes the instruments up just enough to keep things interesting, and it doesn't outstay its welcome, either, just stays around long enough to be enojyable.

We end with a brief drum solo - love a drum solo! - and then the song settles back down, creeping off into the distance as it draws to a close. It's a nice, classy end to a nice, classy song. Certainly an overlooked gem.

Well, both of these songs started strong and grew on me. To be honest, I was ready to slate That's Amore, or at least to explain why I didn't like it's brand of pastiche-y Italian schlock, but I just couldn't. It turns out there's a reason it's stood the test of time, even if it's a bit cheesy. And then we have The Creep, which also comes highly recommended, as a lesser known but very enjoyable listen. Still, my favourite has to be the one that proved me wrong.

Favourite song of the bunch: That's Amore

[eeteernity]

hello if you're writing can I please get a diluc, xiao, bennett, and jean with a s/o that died? tysm

Oh my god I completely forgot that my requests were open but ty for requesting <3 and ofc I’ll do it

Diluc is 100% drowning himself in work

He finds it hard to do anything besides that, a lot of things he would do outside of work he would do with you so everything reminds him of you

He has trouble sleeping, first his bed is very lonely without you, and second all his dreams are about you good or bad

He has so many regrets

Like he wished he had been there or spent more time with you, or even being able to say I love you one last time

He may get snappy with the maids but he always quickly apologises

I pray for donna bc she’s gonna have no luck getting him to open up now

If you died to the fatui like his dad he would be steaming with anger, about how scared you must of been and how they took another loved one from him

If you had any activity that you would keep up everyday (e.g gardening or smth like that) he would make sure to get a maid to attend to it everyday before he’s ready to take over

If y’all have a kid?

Oh my god he will treasure them with his life

They’re all he has left of you so he would kind of become a helicopter parent

If his kid ever asks about you he always says how kind and beautiful you were

Man might become an alcoholic 🙊

the pain might leave him soon and he might open up again, but it’s going to take a lot to let him open up again after you die

Drowns himself in work 2.0

Well if you call taking all his anger out on demons then yeah

Then man hates himself so much he can’t even look in mirrors anymore

He’s even more that he couldn’t save you

He wasn’t fast enough to get you help, he panicked when you were hurt, he didn’t know where to take you and he messed up

And now you’re gone

He’s so mad at you for a bit, he’s mad that you made him fall in love with a mortal, he’s mad how fragile you were

But then he’s mad at himself for being weak, if he can’t save his lover how can he protect liyue?

He doesn’t need food or sleep so that doesn’t matter but he tends to to ask for almond tofu anymore

If you guys had a kid he would be so protective yet distant at the same time

Your kid will probably be half adeptus and half human like ganyu and yanfei so he doesn’t need to worry about them as much

But he definitely warns them about falling in love with mortals and how much it could hurt them

If he’s ever asked about you he doesn’t tend to say much besides that he loves you too much

Manz is depressed

Who knew someone could hate themselves so much

No matter how much people say that it wasn’t his fault he can’t believe it he knows it was his bad luck that killed you

The cant focus on his health at all, all he can do is cry

The guy wishes he told you to leave before the bad luck got to you he knew that you were too good to be true and now look what happened

He’s so mad at himself

Everyone pities him Sm

He doesn’t even want to go on adventures anymore, it was bennys adventure duo and now it’s just Benny

He actually forgives whatever killed you he knows that is the first step to healing, he knows hatred isn’t good for him

He makes sure to visit your grave often

If y’all had a kid they are so spoiled fr

As much as he wants to keep their kid away from the big scary world he knows he can’t, he can’t left your death affect the way he sees the world

Whenever the kid asks about you bennett goes on such a long rant on how amazing you were and how much he still loves you

He may have trouble opening up but he’s still positive

Overall he’s good at healing

Drowning herself in work 3.0

Oh my god this girl did not take care of herself before but now you’re gone, she’s literally on life support

The day when it was announced of your death was basically the day she died

Everything became so mundane for her

She got up, worked and then went to sleep

Everyone was worried for her, especially her sister

She tried to get more people to join the knights so mondstadt could be a safer place

She’s not even mad at anyone, not even the thing that killed you she’s just empty

She definitely gets a 2 week break from being in charge just so she could grieve (she could ask for more if she wanted but not her)

She tries to take up a hobby that you used to have to feel closer too you

She wears an accessory that used to wear (e.g headband Jewellery)

If y’all have a kid she will try her damn hardest to spare time for them, they’re already growing up without one parent can’t make it two

whenever the kid would ask about you she would get a bit somber while she talked about how much she loves you

Tired mum is tired

Actually give her a break don’t die 🙄💅

[artemiseamoon]

Wisteria & Moonlight 3

Chapter 3: Unearthed part one

Werewolf! Will Miller x Ajani (ofc) | Ft Werewolf Benny + ocs

Words: 2,362

Fic info || Previous || Next

An exclusive fic for @clydesducktape Moon In May (week 3) posted on week 4 😂 (life you know)

Prompts used this week: heat, wolfsbane, curse

⚠️ warnings: missing person, impending danger, a traumtic childhood alluded to but not expanded upon, intense overwhelming sexual feelings, masterbation but not heavily detailed or described. It’s super brief, like blink and you miss it.

*** fixed the name error, for some reason this chapter and last I was calling her brother Andre, his name is Adrian. In my mind I mixed up his name with another omc from another fic. So many A names! Sorry for the mix up 💕***

Time passes with ease on the long drive to Louisiana. Along the way, Izara shares what she knows about Priestess-Wolf hybrids, also known as I'ah - Sa's in Coptic.

According to Lore, they were one of the most respected and powerful members of their tribe, with roots in Ancient Nubia. Because they were rare, most packs didn’t have one.

In history, as with all things, there were some examples of their power gone bad. However, for the most part, the spirit and soul of the Priestess-Wolf was good, and they were able to fight darker forces and inclinations.

The Priestess-Wolf gene is passed down from the maternal line. It’s believed, to keep some balance, nature only made them half-breeds. This detail is debatable, as no proof exists to prove this right or wrong. I'ah - Sa's were private by nature and didn’t advertise their gifts.

I'ah - Sa's gain access to the magic at age 13. An elder or guide is needed as the magic can be too powerful or hard to control for the child. The first transformation into wolf form happens during the year they hit puberty, so the age varies.

Both processes happen organically, unless there’s interference by magical means, or a curse placed on the line. Unlike common Weres, they can turn at will without repercussions. For normal werewolves, a non-full moon turn can come with exhaustion, slower healing time, or aches and pains that linger for days.

Any news and stories of the Priestess-Wolf died down over the 18th centaury, they were believed extinct after this. Due to territory battles and others wanting such strength, it’s believed I'ah - Sa's were extinguished by neighboring packs. If any existed after, they did so in secret.

Izara believed them to be extinct herself until she visited some distant family in Louisiana 30 years back. During that trip, she met her now dear friend Zola Eshe; a historian, genealogist, high priestess and I'ah - Sa. Zola was the only one Izara (and to a greater extent the Millers and the Pack) knew, until Ajani walked into that bar.

...

It was night now and time to eat some dinner. Izara’s taken this trip a number of times, she enjoyed driving and didn’t mind the travel. Over all her trips, she accumulated a list of favorite rest stops, places to eat, and to sleep if they wanted to rest for the night. It’s one of these places they stop at for dinner. It’s a perfect Spring night and the bench they choose is near a beautiful Cypress tree.

Izara takes a bite of food, “I think this is going to be life changing for you.”

Ajani smiles. She was hungry, and excited, but there was something else. Though Will was over 4 hours away now she couldn’t shake his scent. She always had a very sensitive nose but after spending a couple of days around the Millers, everything felt heightened, stronger.

Sometimes it felt like Will was right there. Hovering over her, smelling her, touching her. And when she let her mind linger a little too long, she'd picture Bennys eyes on her and the deepness of his voice. Ajani's desire for Will is overwhelming, being drawn to Benny too was the last thing she needed.

Trying her best to calm what was happening inside of her, Ajani shifts her attention to the small pouch around her neck, hidden by her shirt.

Before they hit the road, the two women stopped at Ajani's hotel and grabbed a few things. Most importantly she wanted this pouch. This special mix was made to calm her pheromones and hide her scent. Not just for herself, but from what she understood, if she was going into heat, other Weres would pick up on this, even if she was just a suppressed Halfbreed.

If she could, Ajani wanted to avoid attracting extra attention. The bit of wolfsbane inside was irritating her, and she knew Izara didn't love it, but it was a necessary ingredient.

Izara breaks the silence with a question, “Have you considered the possibility your parents didn’t give you and Adrian up by choice?”

The question pulls Ajani right out of her own head.

“Not really. It was a closed adoption, so, we don't know anything. Just that they gave up when Adrian was 2, I was 1,” Ajani sets the fork down and frowns, "I just never understood what could make parents give up two little kids?"

"I don't know honey, but there could be a valid reason."

"We were in so many homes until the last one. I know we weren't well behaved after a while but…” she shakes her head, “...we were hurt, angry kids you know? The Bennets are okay people, they tried but it wasn't a good fit. They didn't understand us...and when Adrian first turned, I was with him. It was horrible. We had to hide it from them because we didn't want to go back in the system." Ajani shrugs and slouches back against the seat. She didn’t like talking about any of this. Like Adrian, Ajani shoved all this deep down inside.

Izara, ever observant, picks up on this and doesn’t push any further. “We don’t have to talk about that now. But you should know, Zola is the real deal. Unlocking your true form may take going deep into you past. You’ll have to face this.”

“I have that feeling.” Ajani sits back up. “I know I have to do it.”

“Good, come on, let’s get out of here. Would you like to hit the road, keep going? Or rest for the night?” Izara asked. She puts money down for the bill. “There’s a place I like, about an hour out. I’m friends with the owner. We'd have to leave early in the morning." She wrinkles her nose. "I can get a break from that wolfbane too."

Ajani chuckles, "sorry. yeah, lets rest."

Izara takes her phone out and searches her contacts. "Honestly, I'd prefer being annoyed over playing bodyguard to horny Weres. But you need to take care of this," she points to Ajani, "It's going to be a real problem as we look for your brother."

Feeling embarrassed, Ajani drops her gaze to the ground and walks away from the table, "I'll wait for you by the car."

Ajani is only waiting about two minutes when Izara returns, she stands on the passenger side and offers Ajani the keys. “I don’t let anyone except a select few drive my baby, consider this my blessing.”

Ajani takes them, then unlocks the car, “your blessing?”

Izara laughs and moves to the trunk; she searches for something then tosses a button up shirt at Izara. “This is what you’ve been smelling. And yes, it’s his.” She climbs into the passenger seat, wearing an amused grin.

Ajani rubs the cotton of the shirt between her fingertips and brings it to her nose. Her reaction is instant, it feels like Will is holding her, his breath against her skin.

She closes her eyes and whispers to herself, "Get it together. You’re driving."

Ajani places the shirt in the backseat then enters the car. Closing the door behind her, she straps in and starts the car.

Izara turns to Ajani. “He’s been mate-less for a long time…not for lack of options he just never wanted to settle. We weren’t sure at this point if he should keep waiting or pick someone. Whenever we presented Will with an option, he rejects it.”

She continues, “he’s always reminding us how Jon and I met. Jon already had kids, a mate, but she wasn't his forever mate. We found each other after. We thought Will wouldn't find his person, then you walked into the bar," Izara's eyes are warm, “A wolf always knows their mate. Suppressed wolf or not, you know it too." Izara breaks eye contact and turns the AC on.

Ajani almost forgot how hot her skin is, until the cool air provides instant relief. She observes Izara for a moment, then brings her eyes to the road. The silence in the car soon fills with music from Izara's Bluetooth.

…

The quaint hotel is one of the cutest places Ajani has ever seen. It’s tucked away in a quiet part of town and looks like something from a movie. The owner had two rooms open, giving them one each. After a nightcap in the small but charming bar area, they said goodnight and headed to their rooms.

Ajani’s thankful to have her own room. She needs a cold shower and to take the edge off. Part of her feels ashamed bringing the shirt with her, but there was no way she was leaving in the car, not when it smelled of him.

The shower doesn’t help matters any, at first the cold water feels good against her skin. It’s a fleeting relief, the heat returns with more intensity. Dragging herself to the bed, she lays down flat. Rolling onto her side, she grabs Wills shirt and brings it to her nose.

Closing her eyes, Ajani visualizes Will. The scene from the living room replays in her mind. This time there is no one else, just her and Will. As she inhales his scent deeply, her body awakens further. Before she realizes it, she slides her hand inside of the loosely closed robe.

Keeping the shirt close, and with the aid of her vivid imagination, a euphoric wave washes ever her. Her body goes still. For the first time in two days, her body temperature finally decreases. Rolling to her side, she snuggles the shirt. A second later, her phone buzzes on the nearby table.

Ajani grabs the phone and smiles at the message.

Will: It’s Will. I got your number from Quinn. I hope that's okay.

Ajani: More than okay. This is a nice surprise.

Will: Is it too late to call?

Ajani: No, not at all. Please do.

Almost at the same time she presses send, Will calls.

“Hi.” She whispers into the phone speaker with a smile.

His voice is low and breathy, "I can't stop thinking about you. I wish you were lying next to me."

Ajani pulls the shirt close again, while holding the phone with her other hand. "I wish I was too.”

…

The Next day, evening time

Zola is everything Ajani imagined and more. As the first full day with her winds down, Ajani feels her mind expanded, her spirit lifted, her heart lighter. Izara sticks around, while giving them plenty of space. Being here feels like an unrealized dream of Ajani's younger self.

As Izara predicted, it takes Zola no time to figure out the source of Ajani’s block. Watching the majestic women in ritual felt like a privilege.

With the guidance of her ancestors, Zola was able to connect to Ajani’s ancestral line. A curse was the sole cause her block. Her people were at war with another group, a group who wanted their power and kidnapped her mother to have it for themselves.

Protecting his family, Ajani's father killed the Alpha and slaughtered half the pack to get his wife back. Once it was done, her mother and father went into hiding. During that time, they had Adrian and Ajani. Their happiness was shattered when enemy wolves found them. They were captured. Instilling the help of a witch, the enemy pack initiated the curse.

POV switch - Will - That night

Post pack meeting, Will went for a run. Benny joined him.

After looping around their usual route three times, the brothers take a break and have some water. Will takes a few sips, then pours the rest over his head.

He's squeezing the bottle so tight it bends under his weight. The run barely provides any relief. He growls under his breath and paces in place. Will can feel his brother watching him.

“I’m fine.” He barked.

Benny crosses his arm, cementing in place, " no you're not bro. You've been in a shitty mood since yesterday and you went a little hard back there."

Will clenches his jaw as he looks at his brother, "You surprised? We’re dealing with assholes again. You should be pissed too!”

Benny drops his arms and gets in Wills face. "You know how I feel about that." He says through clenched teeth, "I'm talking about her. You're in a fucking rut!"

Will growls and shoves the bottle back in his backpack. Too irritated to speak, he takes off running again. Benny curses and follows him.

When Benny catches up, he run alongside him, “Take the edge off man, you have plenty of - “

Will raises his voice, stopping in place, " I don't want them!"

Benny takes a step back, “fine don't bite my fucking head off.”

Will breaks eye contact and curls over, resting his hands on his knees. He tries to breath out the frustration and anger.

This wasn't new, he’s had plenty of ruts in his 38 years, especially being unpartnered. It was easy before; he’d pick an Omega and enjoy himself.

Picking an Omega was a very quick solution to his problem, but Will was trying to resist. The only woman he wanted was 9 hours away now. He's seen examples of how bad a rut can get, how dangerous. He hopes he can handle the wait.

Getting himself together, Will takes a deep breath then stands tall. He places a hand on Benny's shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

"It's cool," Benny grins then playfully shoves his brother, "besides, if you pick someone in there, maybe I can have Ajani for myself."

Will's expression instantly turns serious, his eyes dark, a growl rumbling in his chest. Benny laughs. "Whoa, I'm messing with you! You've made it very clear she's yours."

Benny starts jogging backwards, "come on, let's go back. I gotta make sure you don't go insane before your girl gets back."

Will shakes his head, chuckles, then follows his brother back to the bar.

🐺Read next chapter here 💜

Meet Zola!

Tags (those who showed interest. If you want to be added, ask below) @clydesducktape @princessxkenobi @kalondarling @aria725 @hopeamarsu @gallowsjoker

[kokokabana]

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞

✧ Austin Russo and Damien Jones ✧ prisoner ✧ interests: reading, foodie, fitness, parties, technology, dancing, true crime, travel, drinks, romance, volunteering, adrenaline, sex

Oh no… my Kryptonite. Hot bad boys who lost hope to ever find love until they meet you where they realize that there is someone out there who is by their side no matter what for which they show their gratitude by offering a soft, romantic side only they get to see.

« 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭

✧-✧-✧

How to read this guide

The choices are portrayed like this: A | B. The one in bold or with an exclamation mark gets you (the most) affection.

Sometimes both choices work! They get you a different dialogue from your match, but you or they give the same amount of emoji reactions, balancing everything out.

Make sure to equip the interest that is about to be unlocked when you fill up that relationship bar! That gives you 15 additional gems. Don’t accept the gems and close the app when you haven’t already.

Message me or comment below if you found something else!

✧-✧-✧

Chat History

#1 Texting

✧ Chill out! | Sorry…

✧ nobody’s really asked me that before → 🤔 | 😮!

✧ My hobby is flirting! | My favorite hobbies are always changing.

✧ it’s cool, glad we have something in common → 😎 | 🥹!

✧ 1st CG for 180 💎 -> 🔥! | 😍

-> filled up relationship bar 1x

✧-✧-✧

#2 Texting

✧ You’re impossible… | Yeah, kinda.

✧ Very cool | Pretending to know what that means...

✧ 2nd CG for 300 💎 -> 🥹! | 😊

✧ oh you like to play with my words? -> 🍆! | 😈

✧-✧-✧

#3 Texting

✧ I think people are truly good at heart. | I can only speak for myself.

✧ Oh! I really like it! | Interesting…

✧ there’s more where that came from! -> 👏 | 🎉!

✧-✧-✧

#4 Texting

✧ 3rd CG for 300 💎

✧-✧-✧

#5 Texting

✧ I missed you SO much!! | New phone who dis

✧ More about your dad! (gem scene for 120 💎) | Any other family?

✧ i got none -> 😭! | 😮

✧-✧-✧

#6 Texting

✧ it doesn’t help that I already got a spicy temper -> 🌶! | 😐

✧ You can always change! | Try to be cautious, not cold.

✧-✧-✧

#7 Texting

✧ Feeling really good! | Feeling a little lonely… -> i was looking forward to talking to you all day… 💏! | 👍

OR (no choose the first one!!!)

✧ Feeling really good! | Feeling a little lonely… -> why don’t you go see them -> 😭! | 😐

✧ Nobody’s perfect! | How bad could it be?

✧-✧-✧

#8 Texting

✧ Please tell me you’re rich! | There’s more to life than money…

✧-✧-✧

#9 Texting

✧ You don’t really hate your family, do you? | I don’t like my family either… -> no decisive choice but I like his response for the second choice

✧ Bennie is the reason i’m on death row 👎 -> 😱! | ☹️

✧-✧-✧

#10 Texting

✧ Yes, of course I’ll still talk to you. (gem choice for 120 💎) | You’re on DEATH ROW… -> 1 screen of fluff but more for boost

✧ Quit lying to me! | If you say it’s true, I believe you.

✧-✧-✧

#11 Texting

✧ woke up with the gun in my hand and the cops in my face… -> 🫢! | 😫

✧-✧-✧

#12 Texting

✧ 5th CG for 300 💎

✧ and no – according to the cops, the jury, the judge... -> 😭! | 👎

✧ Not a bad idea, I love learning about true crime! | Can I just study your lips instead?

✧-✧-✧

#13 Texting

✧ it’s your fault 😬 -> 😘! | 😬

-> this must be my favorite part omg TIME STOPS? PB AND J?!!?!? HELLO SOMEBODY TALK TO ME ABOUT THIS

✧-✧-✧

#14 Texting

✧ you’re already helping by just talking 🙂 -> 😘! | 👍 

✧ It’s worth the risk 😘 | I can handle myself 😎

✧-✧-✧

#15 Texting

✧ 6th CG for 300 💎

✧ What if I had actually lost you?! | You should have killed them 😐

✧ if you actually lost me, then you’d remember the good times we had 😊 -> 🥹! | 🙂

✧-✧-✧

#16 Texting

✧ Embarrassed much? | There’s no going back now! TELL!!

✧ it was just kinda intense -> 🔥! | 😳

✧ OMG YAAASSS, that’s so hot!! | That’s kinda strange…

✧ 7th CG for 300 💎

✧-✧-✧

#17 Texting

✧ i wasn’t expecting that... -> 😈! | 🙄

✧-✧-✧

#18 Texting

✧ Finally getting desperate? | Yay, revenge!!

✧ i don’t need to hurt him, i just need evidence -> 🙄! | ☹️

✧ What did you see?? | I’ve had a near death experience too! -> no decisive choice but he tells you his most important memories. also this is not about MC stop always trying to be in the spotlight lmao

✧ Can’t we be a little spontaneous? | Of course – this is serious business!

✧ PROMISE me you won’t go after Bennie yet! -> 😈 | 👍!

✧-✧-✧

#19 Texting

✧ That’s fucking disgusting! | I’d HAPPILY pat you down 😊 -> no decisive choice but hey, nothing against sexting

✧ I think I found Bennie. Does this look familiar? (gem choice for 120 💎) | I can’t do this… I need to go. -> only for boost and 8th CG which will be added later

✧-✧-✧

#20 Texting

✧ and now there’s nothing i can do to save you 😭 -> 🥹 | 💋!

✧ The one and only 😎 | Last time I checked…

✧ I’ve never seen you that scared 😏 | You should have more confidence in me! -> i’d be fucking devastated if Bennie killed you too!! -> 🥺 | ❤️!

OR (no the first one’s cuter)

✧ I’ve never seen you that scared 😏 | You should have more confidence in me! -> it’s a little difficult when you don’t listen to me 🙄 -> 😈! | 😐

✧ Almost – but I’m fine. | As if 😎

✧ Of course, I know how much it meant to you! (gem choice for 150 💎) | Lucky guess 😉 -> only boost but anything for Austin

✧ LOL I guess it runs in the family 😏 | I can’t really blame him!

✧-✧-✧

#21 Texting

✧ it looked like you said Bennie’s taking you out on a date 😂 -> 🤢! | 🫢

✧ That’s about the gist of it 😬 | It’s even funnier because it’s true!

✧ clothing item 🎁 (black jeans for 170)

✧ PLEASE wait until i’m back before you head out so we can actually make a plan this time!! -> ❤️! | 👍

✧-✧-✧

#22 Texting

✧ Okay, I’ll bring a knife to the date. (gem choice for 180 💎) | Seriously? I’ll be fine…

-> if this works, I’ll buy you some knee knives, a new kitchen, and become your personal chef 😜 -> 😍! | 👍 (AAAAAHHHHHH)

OR

✧ Okay, I’ll bring a knife to the date. (gem choice for 180 💎) | Seriously? I’ll be fine…

-> OMG… i meant to defend yourself! -> 👏! | 😬

✧-✧-✧

#23 Texting & First Date

Nothing.

✧-✧-✧

#24 Texting

Nothing.

✧-✧-✧

#25 Texting

✧ goodbye -> ☹️ | 😭!

✧ OMG I’m so sorry, I was running and missed your texts!! (gem choice for 150 💎) | Wait. I’m going to re-read the texts you just sent -> only for boost

✧-✧-✧

#26 Texting

✧ He almost did... | Nope, I’m a boss 😎

✧ Of course, you’ll be free in no time! | Don’t get your hopes up 😬

✧ i’m speechless - you stuck by me this whole time! -> 😘! | 👍

✧-✧-✧

#27 Texting

✧ Great, he’s cracked... | That was so beautiful!

✧ I love you too! (gem choice for 150 💎) | Austin, you’re not making sense. -> AAAHHHHHHHH

✧ you read my mind! that’s how i feel too!! -> 💏 | ❤️!

✧ Oh, it was nothing | Fuck YAAAAAAAASSS!!

✧ you’ve done more than enough, but i’ll DEFINITELY dream of you tonight -> 🍆! | 😏

✧-✧-✧

Full Relationship Bar

-> depending on many gem scenes you bought, you will get the dialogue with this 9th CG sooner or later once you filled up the bar 4 times

✧-✧-✧

#28 Texting

✧ now there’s a manhunt for Bennie and another trial later -> 🥂! | 👍

✧ You owe me one! | Eh, don’t mention it. -> gets you 🫢

✧ I am pretty good at solving mysteries! | Too dangerous for my taste 😬 -> gets you 😂

✧-✧-✧

#29 Texting

✧ i’m in GRAVE danger -> 🫢! | 😐

✧ Try to calm down 😮 | I’ve never seen you this worried before!

✧ Time to man-up! | Okay, that’s a BIG problem!

✧ i’m trying!! -> 🙏 | ❤️!

✧ 10th CG for 300 💎

✧ i love you -> 😍! | 🥹

✧-✧-✧

#30 Texting

✧ long time no talk 😎 -> 😍! | 😳

✧ OMG... I’m SO happy to hear from you! | Sorry, already moved on 😜

✧ 11th CG for 300 💎

✧ Bennie was released from jail -> 💔! | 😱

✧ The justice system is failing you | I’m still optimistic

✧-✧-✧

#31 Texting

✧ WTF?! | Tell me you’re okay

✧ he knows it was you who helped me try to get him locked up -> 😬 | 😱!

✧ i said no one better lay a finger on you i lost control and swung -> 🫢 | 😍!

✧ You defended me 😍 | Don’t make a bad situation worse

✧ Wish I could be there to help heal those bruises faster | I’m sure I could take you down with the right maneuver 😏

✧ I’m on, guide away ❤️ (gem choice for 150 💎) | Think I’ll pass -> just 4.5 screens of fluff, mostly from MCs side, not really worth it

✧-✧-✧

#32 Texting

✧ As about as relaxed as I can be with a target on my back | I’m finding solace in knowing I have your support

✧ u should know im prepared to do whatever it takes to keep you safe -> 🥹! | 😍

✧ You’re the only innocent one between the two of us 😈 (gem choice for 150 💎) I feel the same about you -> 4 screens of judge-plaintiff role play huh… not my thing

✧ Yes, but it’s always worth repeating | Awwww you’re so sweet. Totally made my day!

✧ tbh, sometimes, i think i love you more than i love myself -> 😍! | 🫢

✧-✧-✧

#33 Texting

Nothing.

✧-✧-✧

#34 Texting

✧ I always have time for you ❤️ | Oh no! You sound worried...

✧ but Bennie has pull with multiple prison gangs- including this one -> 😱! | 😭

✧ We’re both in this together | I’m an adult

✧ You have no clue how much I actually care about you, do you? | I don’t half-ass relationships 😜

✧ no way you care about me more than care about you -> 😘 | 😂!

✧ Prove it to me then! (gem choice for 150 💎) | LOL it’s ok, I believe u -> 100000% worth it, see my reaction here

✧ free clothing item 🎁 (black bracelet with gold plate)

✧-✧-✧

#35 Texting & Actual First Date

✧ as it turns out. it has video settings. i’m about to video call you! -> 🎉! | 🫢

✧ OMG! YES! PLEASE! | Now? I’m kind of nervous

✧ Umm, absolutely! Serenade me! (gem choice for 180 💎) | This is too dangerous! Maybe you should hang up

-> I was dying because of how romantic it is. He freestyles a poem for you and you add your own verses, I’m crying

✧ Besides, I got to see you in my bracelet, and that was worth it -> 🥹 | 💋! (gift-related)

✧ Yes- but it’s for you so l don’t care how insane it sounds | I can’t let u keep getting attacked before the trial

✧ Remember why I’m taking this risk | Save those breaths for when our lips me

✧ I promise you I’ll be careful | You won’t lose me

✧ you were worth every second. -> 🥹 | 😍!

✧-✧-✧

#36 Texting & Third Date

✧ tonight’s the night -> 😈! | 😱

✧ Is anyone ever ready to break and enter? | I’ve actually been looking forward to this

✧ Kick Bennie in the balls (gem choice for 210 💎) | Beg Bennie not to hurt you

-> idk if Bennie knowing it was you or not will have actual impact on the rest of the story, but that should’ve been a 120 gem choice on gem rush

✧-✧-✧

#37 Texting

✧ I’m still shaken up a bit but I’ll survive | Forget me, what happened with the guard?

✧ i spent all morning bribing a guard to give it back -> 🫢 | 🥹!

✧ Here you go. Do you think you can decipher this? (gem choice for 180 💎) | It’s probably nothing, I’ll throw it away

-> 12th CG

-> emotional background about him. Relatively short but very touching

✧ Now I’m really interested | This is SO frustrating!

✧ silver lining - must be something worth hiding on there for sure -> 👍 | 🥂!

✧-✧-✧

#38 Texting

✧ The risk was more than worth it | Now, all we have to do is get into that phone

✧ i can’t allow you to do something so risky -> 😬! | 🙄

✧ No risk, no reward! | I’ve thought it through and i’ve decided you’re worth it.

-> no decisive decision but he calls you sei thing I’d like to hear more of that

✧ as if i don’t think about that every single moment of every single day -> 😏! | 🥹

✧ If you knew the things that cross my mind… 🍆🍑💦😈 | I just want to touch you

✧ Let’s indulge in my fantasy. (gem choice for 180 💎) | I’m sure you can use your imagination

✧-✧-✧

#39 Texting & Fourth Date

✧ I’m relieved to hear that actually | That’s it? You had me worried for nothing!

✧ There has to be | Try to be more optimistic

✧ It WON’T happen again | We’ll cross that bridge when and if we come to it

✧ Sure! I’ll call you and tell you! (gem choice for 180 💎) | Can’t right now. I’ll just text it

-> only for boost

✧ i’m so damn happy you’re going to be here -> 😘 | ❤️!

✧-✧-✧

#40 Texting & Fifth Date

✧ I only have eyes for you 😘 | Yep- and you can find us ganging out in cell-block ‘D’ 🍆 💦

✧ i need to see your face right now -> 🫢 | 🥹!

✧ Yeah. Ring me. (gem choice for 180 💎) | Let’s just keep texting

-> generic sweet talk, cut short very fast. only for boost

✧-✧-✧

#41 Texting

to be played and to 100% to be finished this is my absolute fav storyline and fav match :3

[bookishofalder]

Catfish & Sunshine

Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader Mini Series

Summary: Frankie is secretly in love with his best friend. Thanks in part to Benny’s shitty horror movie recommendation and stray ice cream, feelings come out unexpectedly during movie night. 

Warnings: Language, SMUT, little angst, lots of fluff, poor writer understanding of US military benefits/retirement. WC 8,215.

A/N: I dreamed this up after rewatching Triple Frontier about a month ago (for the plot, of course) and let it sit for a while. Became inspired to finish it off this week and share it with you all-so please let me know your thoughts!

For over a decade, Saturday nights were, for Frankie Morales, usually spent with his best friends over drinks at their favourite bar. When deployed, the bar was instead smuggled whiskey that they shared under the stars, an attempt to imagine they were anywhere other than the current hellhole. As Special Ops soldiers, Frankie and his buddies had been through the worst of the worst together, until one by one they retired or were forced to retire, and then they were back to regular appearances at the local bar, for a while the five of them, then four.

Until Frankie met you.

Had someone come up to him during one of those nights years before and told Frankie that one day he’d be bringing you along to the bar to join him and the guys, he’d have laughed in their faces. But for a while, that was exactly what occurred, until you and Frankie grew so close that you usually ended up making different plans, like going mini-golfing, or lounging at his apartment and watching movies. Not that you didn’t love the guys, all whom you’d met except for Santi as he had been off the grid for just over a year when you and Frankie had met.

It was thanks to the elder Miller brother, Will, that he had even met you at all. Working at the VA office, Will had learned of one of the few retirement perks they had for putting their asses on the line for their country-physical therapy. And you came highly recommended, a star PT who had worked magic over his friends' ailments. Knowing Frankie suffered from shoulder and neck pains, Will handed him your card and encouraged him to book an appointment.

He hadn’t called straight away. He’d popped your card onto his fridge and every day he’d pass by it, consider calling, and then talk himself out of it. Until the pain became too much to bear, his latest menial job just a little too physical for him, causing him to consider using again just to dull the ache. But he’d walked by your card moments later and instead of making a terrible decision he had promised himself he’d never make again, he called your office. Made an appointment with your friendly receptionist, who thankfully had his name already because Will had put in a good word for Frankie and asked that they try and get him in straight away, whenever he finally did call.

Two days later Frankie was standing nervously in the treatment room, looking at a wall decorated with your various degrees and certificates. He was anxious not only because he worried he’d get his hopes up that this would help the pain only to be disappointed, but also because he had no idea what to expect. Years of service as a pilot had made Frankie into a man who planned, meticulously, leaving little in the way of surprises. But he’d reasoned that calling the office back and demanding they give him a minute-by-minute account of what the appointment would be like was probably going too far.

And then you had walked in and immediately his worries morphed into concern over the fact that he required a beard trim, that he looked like he’d just rolled out of bed and popped his usual cap on, probably appearing a little gruff. And fuck, he almost couldn’t breathe when you gave him the most dazzling, genuine smile like you were greeting an old friend. You were bright, a rare energy radiating off of you as though you absorbed it straight from the fucking sun, and you were beautiful. No wonder Will had winked at Frankie when he’d handed you the business card.

You were observant, introducing yourself and seemingly sensing his overall discomfort. Instead of launching straight to business, you gestured for him to sit and spent a good twenty minutes casually chatting, pulling information you needed from him while putting him at ease entirely. He learned then that Will had already sung Frankie’s praises, given you the heads up that he was a worrier and even told a few stories that showcased his talents as a pilot.

If Frankie didn’t know any better, he’d think his friend was trying to play matchmaker.

All thoughts of Will Miller, and pretty much every other thing on the planet, vanished the moment you laid your expert hands on to Frankie. You zeroed in on the worst source of pain and slowly worked away, and he could only agree with Will that you had magic hands. He could have died happily right then, as you chatted away and brought him the most relief he’d felt in years. You would pause occasionally to check in with his pain levels and make sure he was doing alright, always asking him to look at you to answer and searching his face as he spoke to ensure he was telling the truth.

The care you gave Frankie in just one appointment was enough to start him falling. And he kept going back, multiple appointments a week that not only had him walking taller, feeling lighter on his feet and reducing his migraines to seldom, but also allowing him to get to know you better. You were the kind of sweet-natured person that cried when you saw a sad commercial, laughed freely to the lamest of jokes, and seemed to wake up on the right side of the bed every day. You were sunshine, literal, tangible sunshine, and Frankie thought you might not even realize it.

Though Frankie had convinced himself early on that a woman as beautiful and kind as you could never be interested in a grouch like him, with his crows' feet and a closet full of demons. The longer he knew you little seeds of hope would sprout whenever he made you laugh so hard you had to stop the treatment just to hold your stomach as you giggled. Or when you’d share something with him innocent enough but, upon reflection, he would think it wasn’t something a normal patient-provider relationship would find exchanged.

But there was the age difference, a decade between you both that, if nothing else worked, would successfully extinguish his hope. He had wondered if perhaps you were just a decent people person, that the friendship he felt was there was entirely one-sided.

Until one day, a few months into coming to you for treatment, Frankie sat waiting for you to come in the room only for you to appear looking entirely unlike yourself. He booked his appointments always for the end of the day, a routine that promised he would get plenty of uninterrupted time with you and the conversation could flow without a time constraint. He had been so surprised that you weren’t grinning as you stepped into the room that he stood abruptly, filling with concern.

When he asked, softly, if you were alright, you didn’t brush him off like he might have expected. You instead looked up at Frankie, your lower lip trembling as your eyes filled with tears, and sobbed unexpectedly. That sound had torn a hole right into his chest and he had pulled you straight into his arms and hugged you close before asking you to tell him what he could do to help.

You ended up explaining that you had come in that morning to the news that a regular patient of yours, an elderly man you’d known the entire time you’d been working for the VA office, had passed away in his sleep. And you’d apologized to Frankie while sniffling and wiping at the tears, telling him you’d held it in all day but couldn’t do that when your friend asked you, and he had been baffled to realize you were referring to him. As your friend.

He had cut off your apology to hug you close again, smoothing your hair gently as he whispered calming words and sentiments to you in Spanish. And though you didn’t speak the language, you had since told Frankie it had done exactly what he’d hoped and made you feel all the better. 

After his treatment that day, Frankie asked if he could take you for a drink to toast your friend's life. He waited for you to close up the office, and then you’d followed him in your car to drive over to his usual bar. And you both drank to the veteran who passed, then ended up ordering dinner and remaining at the bar until late, talking even more freely outside of the office. If Frankie didn’t already have it bad for you, that night sure sealed it for him.

After that, you and Frankie began texting regularly, sometimes even calling one another to share a funny story or talk about something in the news. He had joined you for your former clients funeral, his hand rubbing comforting circles into your back before he took you out for lunch, then you’d ended up at his place to watch a cheesy movie, ordering pizza when you both realized there was a sequel that, if it was as bad as the first, you absolutely needed to watch.

And just like that, Frankie saw his life altered completely when you became his best friend.  

Currently, Frankie was seated comfortably on his couch, where he frowned at the TV playing a horror movie that you had insisted was supposed to be good, because Benny had recommended it. Considering the younger Miller brother could barely sit still half the time, that was supposedly good enough for you. 

You were tucked into Frankie’s side, eyes fixed on the screen until a jump scare had you jerk, then twist your face to press into his chest, because you hated the gory bits.

“Fuck! How does this not scare you even a little, Frankie?” You whined, unknowingly causing Frankie to swell with pride when he heard the note of admiration in your voice. He had started to suspect that the reason movie nights were becoming exclusively scary movies was that you were determined to find one that actually frightened him.

So far, you’d had no luck. But Frankie didn’t mind, because though you were already a touchy person in general, you were especially clingy when you queued up the next horror flick as if you trusted him to keep you safe.

Frankie didn’t reply, his chest rumbling with silent laughter that made you teasingly poke his side. He jumped, because you knew exactly where to aim, then cleared his throat. The scene ended, and he began to extract himself from your grip. “My sweet tooth is calling, cariño. I’m going to get some ice cream.”

You let him go, your head popping up, a big grin on your face, “Can I have some too, please?” And he nodded, smiling at you before walking across the open concept apartment and into his kitchen.

He stretched his back before opening the freezer where he had some bars next to an off-limits pint of Ben and Jerry’s. You had put it there months ago, telling Frankie it was for days when you got together and one of you needed to cry over a bad date. You called it ‘emergency’ ice cream. Frankie considered it to be ‘fuck you’ ice cream, because every time he opened his damn freezer he saw that pint and ended up thinking about how neither of you had been on a date with anyone since becoming friends over a year before, then falling into the same circular argument with himself-that the friendship was too important for him to feel the way he did, that he was jumping to conclusions and maybe you had gone on a few good dates that you just didn’t tell him about, and he was out of his mind if he thought you would ever feel the same way.

“Here you go, Sunshine,” He plopped back down next to you and passed you your bar, watching as you beamed at him widely, the inevitable result of his use of the nickname he’d dubbed you with a long time ago.

He desperately hoped you never realized the amount of affection truly behind that nickname.

Because how could he even begin to explain that you were literally sunshine in his dark life?

“Thank you,” You pulled the wrapper off, glancing at the movie and frowning. “Uhg. Benny promised the one was good! I’m starting to think he only recommends movies if they have at least one pair of tits.” You took the first bite of your ice cream bar while Frankie nearly choked on his own.

Amused as he was whenever you joked about your shared friends, Frankie also loved it when you swore. You were a goofy, happy little thing most of the time and curse words just seemed so out of character for you, pulling laughter from Frankie any time you caught him by surprise. You spent your days around gruff veterans and never seemed to lose any light, no matter how many real horror stories you heard. So whenever you managed to sound so uncharacteristically blunt, he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Benny has always been a tits man,” Frankie agreed, and you giggled. He tried to refocus on the movie then, but it hadn’t captured his interest in the least. After a moment, you spoke again and he had to work on not choking.

“What are you, Francisco?”

Your tone was playful, light; Frankie’s head jerked in surprise to gaze down at you and you wiggled your brows, going for laughs. You seemed completely unaware of the roaring in his ears, the visceral reaction your words brought forth within him. You and Frankie had shared intimate tidbits like that before with one another, often during nights at the bar with the Miller brothers. After a few drinks and usually, because his friends knew exactly how he felt about you and tried to steer the conversations into dangerous waters and watch Frankie try to save himself.

Only, Frankie’s friendship with you during the last few months had become...deeper. After the operation Santiago had brought Will, Benny, Tom and him in on, your relationship had evolved. Because that nightmare had reminded Frankie just how dark shit could get in the blink of an eye, and he’d had to do things he thought he was done with when he retired from service. Worse, because they were just civilians using Santi’s connections and intel to rob a drug lord.

And you had no idea what he’d gone through, how hard he’d fought just to get home to you because he couldn’t-wouldn’t-tell you. Yet you still patched him up, physically and emotionally, when he’d come home three weeks later than he’d promised. You held him as he cried and never became angry with him, never questioned him for answers as to why he’d come home with one less friend and a whole lot of mysterious trauma.

After that, Frankie realized he was hopelessly, irrevocably in love with you.

So a simple, flirtatious little question? Yeah, it really managed to fuck Frankie up.

His friends had sensed the change as well, noticed how you held Frankie up when he felt like he couldn’t stand, how you comforted them all when they got home and cried along with them over Tom, over Santi not coming home even though you’d only met him once, briefly. You held strong for him at Tom’s funeral, which prompted the Miller brothers to tell Frankie in no uncertain terms that he simply could not let you slip through his fingers. If that fucking mission had taught them anything, it was that life was too short and you might as well live it to the fullest.

But the thing was, Frankie depended on you. Your friendship was the one real, good, pure thing in his life. And you gave it so willingly and unquestionably even after what he put you through that there was no fucking way he was risking it by telling you how he felt.

Christ, you even had a spot in his bathroom for your own toiletries, a favourite pillow on his bed for the nights you stayed, a fucking hook for your coat that he installed just a little lower than the other because you were so much smaller than Frankie.

And still, he wouldn’t look at what that might mean because he was afraid, and as much as you seemed to think nothing scared him, the truth was that a gory horror movie, or losing his friend, or even fucking live combat could never come close to the fear he felt when he pictured life without you.

You were Frankie’s Sunshine, and he never wanted to be alone in the dark again.

Aware he was still gazing down at you, Frankie found himself entirely at a loss for words. You didn’t seem to mind, simply waiting for him to respond while taking small bites of your treat. His cock twitched at the combination of your words, the innocent way you gazed at him, because Frankie hadn’t touched himself in quite some time and it didn’t take much to drive him up the wall.

His life with you had become remarkably domestic, routine. You often stayed multiple nights in a row at his place, preferring his company over being alone, and the shorter distance to your office. His spacious condo had one large four-piece bathroom, which meant there had been a few times where one of you was in the shower and the other came in, desperate to use the toilet before their bladder could burst. The shower had a thickly frosted glass enclosure, which provided plenty of visual privacy from both sides, the only indication that someone was in the shower was a very faint tint. This was never an issue until it was.

Exactly sixty-two days prior (not that Frankie was necessarily keeping count of passing time since his last orgasm), you had burst into the bathroom one afternoon unexpectedly. Returning early from your jog because you needed to pee, while Frankie stood in the shower. He listened to you tell him about a cute dog you’d seen outside his building. The thing was, Frankie had expected you to be gone longer, and you were in the middle of a three-day visit that had left him needy and horny because he hadn’t had time alone and yet you walked around in his fucking clothes, slept next to him in his bed, and he needed release.

He was grateful the tinted glass prevented you from having any idea what he was doing on the other side. And he had been close already when you came in, one hand fisting over his cock while the other pressed into the tile wall, and guilt sprang up in the back of his mind because he had been thinking of you as he touched himself. And you were just feet away, unaware and fuck if that didn’t lead him to the edge.

But it was when you had sat down to pee and he heard you give a little moan of relief that Frankie lost it, giving in to the most powerful-yet silent-orgasm he had had in fucking years. Rope after rope of cum, his legs violently shaking, and he’d wondered if he would pass out it felt so good. Then you’d flushed and continued speaking, washing your hands before telling him you were going to put on a pot of coffee. And the guilt Frankie felt was so immense that he vowed right there he wasn’t going to touch himself again. He cared for and respected you too much to reduce you to his graphic thoughts without your consent.

Sixty-two days later and you were testing his limits unknowingly.

“I, uh, I’m not sure,” He replied, keeping his eyes locked on yours. You frowned a little, kitten licking the ice cream absentmindedly. Frankie almost groaned, wondering if you were trying to kill him. “I guess, it depends on the person.” He was never, ever going to admit he was a you man, that your ass, your perfect tits, your pretty little mouth were everything he could dream and more.

He tried to shrug casually, as if indifferent.

“I guess it’s a funny question,” You said after a moment, laughing a little, “I mean, no one asks a straight woman if she’s an ass or cock girl!”  

Frankie took a too-large bite of his treat, the cold painful and giving him instant brain freeze but it was just the distraction he needed because seeing your plump lips wrap around the word ‘cock’ might just kill him. He coughed attempting to laugh at your joke despite the brain freeze, and you leaned closer in concern.

“Sorry, are you-ah, shit!” A piece of your ice cream bar, which you’d moved to hold higher as you were checking on Frankie, fell off and landed on your chest, instantly staining the pale pink t-shirt. You hopped up with a noise of discontent, catching the fallen glob and hurrying into the kitchen to toss it in the sink. “Damn it!”

Frankie reached out and paused the movie, standing up and intending to follow you. He took two steps, adjusting his cap as he moved, and then looked up to where you stood at the sink, running your shirt under the faucet. Freezing, he took it the sight of you standing in his kitchen, your shirt removed to run under the water, leaving you wearing yoga pants and a simple white bra. For a moment, he just shut down and stared at you dumbfounded, before internal alarms started sounding and Frankie’s eyes were sweeping over your curves, his eyes zeroing in on the lack of support your bra had, your breasts perky and full and fuck, he had to look away.

He looked up at his ceiling at cleared his throat “You uh, want me to grab you a shirt?” His voice came out much deeper than he was expecting. He hoped you didn’t notice, though with only being able to see your profile even if he did dare to look at you, he’d never be able to tell.

“Can I borrow your big sweater, please?” You asked him, and Frankie nodded as he hurried away, down the hall to grab the sweater he knew you meant from his room. He would have laughed at your suggestion it was his sweater when he barely got to wear it himself anymore, but he was trying to remember how to breathe.

Once out of sight in his bedroom, Frankie took a few steadying breaths before grabbing the sweater off the end of his bed. He was going to subject himself to a cold shower after he handed this to you because you were staying the night again and he could not climb into a bed with you this worked up.

One of the reasons that you and Frankie just worked as friends were your opposite ways of navigating life. Where Frankie was a detailed, meticulous planner, you flitted from idea to idea spontaneously until something landed right, and you seemed to enjoy pulling him along with you as you followed those random whims. And he let you pull him because he trusted you so completely. Even if he would still make a new plan in the back of his mind, it still felt like he was taking chances he never would have without you leading the way.

Planning was Frankie’s way of keeping control. Of keeping himself, his squadmates, his loved ones, safe and secure. After Columbia, where every bit of the plan had gone completely to shit, he’d needed to let you lead more often just so he could feel grounded because he didn’t trust himself any longer. And you had been happy to lead, to test his limits by pushing aside any planning he attempted and pull him from his comfort zone. You had taught him how to grapple with his instincts and his desires, giving him real-world methods to cope, including breathing as he was now.

So focused as he was on his breathing, Frankie hadn’t noticed you had joined him in his room, standing just inside the doorway. If he had heard you, he wouldn’t have spun around abruptly and take two long strides before realizing how close you were, nearly knocking you over as he did. He dropped the sweater when he reached out with both hands to grab your upper arms and steady you, and then he met your gaze.

Frankie couldn’t say whether it was the heat of his hands on you so unexpectedly, or the way you each shivered at the electricity that seemed to pulse from him to you. Maybe it was everything combined, years of friendship, longing and pining and then almost dying in the middle of the jungle only to come home and have you climb into his lap and sob in relief that he was home, and a million other moments in between.

But when Frankie met your eyes there in the doorway of his bedroom, he knew his expression was giving him away completely.

You were looking at him with wide eyes, your mouth slightly open in surprise, whatever words you were going to say long since lost. And then he saw it, was looking right at you when your expression shifted, no longer the innocent, playful woman but instead, one who was suffering just as much as he was, longing and love and this hunger on your face he’d never seen before.

Without hesitating, without thinking or planning his next move, Frankie tugged you against him and leaned down to slot his lips over yours, taken aback when he saw you close your eyes and stretch your neck up to meet him. When your soft lips connected to his, Frankie trembled and groaned, loving the feel of your body pressed against him, the way you smelled like something tropical, how even with your perfect curves you were so small compared to him. Kissing you was everything he’d dreamed and more.

He wanted to deepen the kiss, taste you, but even as he thought it his mind jumped ten steps ahead and imagined you on his bed and he had to stop himself from getting carried away. With great effort he pulled back, first breaking the kiss and then taking several steps away, panting heavily.

“Frankie?” You were out of breath, confused, and deliciously flushed. He could see your nipples tightened against the thin fabric of your bra, goosebumps along your skin. Just the knowledge that he’d had that kind of effect on you was enough to make him want to cum in his pants right there.

“Cariño, I can’t, I’m sorry,” It was physically painful now, his hard length straining against his jeans, but he was more concerned about you, and how afraid he was to lose you. “I-I’ve wanted to do that but you gotta know, I love you. I’m in love with you.” He couldn’t meet your eyes, instead choosing to look at his feet and rubbing his hands over his face.

You approached him again, just as quietly, taking him by surprise when you spoke from just inches away. “Frankie, look at me,” It was an order, a tone you rarely used but that always worked on grounding him, and he realized you understood he was struggling right now not to break down, terrified he’d fucked up the best thing in his life in a moment of weakness. He reluctantly met your gaze, swallowing thickly as he did.

“I need you to hear me right now, okay? Tell me.”

“I’m listening,” He confirmed, heart about ready to beat out of his chest, “I can hear you.”

“Good,” And you closed the gap between your body and his, pressing your hands into his shoulders. Frankie caught his breath. “I want you to do that again, and I don’t want you to stop. Please, kiss me again, Frankie, because I love you too and I’ve never wanted anything more in my whole life than I want you-“

Frankie cut you off, a growl ripping from his chest before he gathered you roughly into his arms and kissed you again, this time quickly swiping his tongue across your lips for permission to enter, and you gladly parted them for him, moaning when his tongue licked into your hot mouth. He slid one hand to the back of your head, his fingers weaving into your hair carefully before he pressed your face to his, needy to taste you more, to get drunk on you. Fuck, you were perfect.

When you whimpered against him, the sound almost lost in his mouth, Frankie moved, walking you back until you hit the wall and crowding you there. He ran his free hand across the bare skin of your side, heat coursing through his veins when you shuddered at his touch, keening for him. He hadn’t realized he was rolling his hips against you, his erection pressed into your stomach until one of your small hands somehow slipped between your bodies and ghosted over the front of his jeans curiously.

“Fuck,” He broke the kiss, this time simply to lower his head and kiss along your jaw, down your neck, “Sunshine, I fucking love you, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, sweet girl.” He licked the column of your throat as he moved to the other side of your face before biting gently. The sound that tore from you was so filthy he groaned again, dropping both hands to grasp your forearms.

“Frankie, fuck, don’t stop,” You were tugging at his shirt, and despite your request, he had to move back slightly to pull it over his head, his bare chest revealed to you and even though you’d seen him shirtless before, the intimacy of this time, of finally being with you after so long, made him self conscious. If you saw anything you didn’t like, you didn’t show it. Instead, you bit your lip as your hands tentatively roamed across his chest, trailing over his stomach lightly enough that he shivered. When you spoke next, you yet again took Frankie completely by surprise, your brows furrowing as your expression became more than just hungry, “Mine.”

You whispered it, but to Frankie, it was like you’d just announced it to the entire world. The possessive edge wasn’t lost on him, no, it shot straight to his core and snapped the final cords of his restraint.

“I should...I need a minute, Sunshine,” Frankie pressed his hands into the wall on either side of you, “I haven’t done anything in a long time, haven’t even cum, I don’t think I can be as sweet to you as I want to be.”

Your lust-blown eyes met his, “Why haven’t you cum?” He could hear trouble in your voice now, the not so careful way you spoke pulling dangerous images in his mind as he stared down at you, his jaw tense. When Frankie made no reply, you pressed your pointer finger to the middle of his chest, your eyes never leaving his as you slowly, lightly, moved it downward, trailing his dark hair. “Is it because you think of me? Are you that amazing that you won’t even let yourself cum because you think it’s wrong to think about me like that?”

A strangled noise was all he could respond with, his hands pressing desperately into the wall. You knew him too well, understood exactly what he’d meant without having to ask. And then you kept talking, and honestly, Frankie was floored at how dirty you suddenly were for him.

“I have to admit, you’re better than me, Frankie,” That finger trailed so slowly, closing in on his belly button now, “I’m not good like you, I think about you all the time. Especially when I touch myself, usually after I’ve spent a ton of time with you and I can’t fucking wait for a second longer. Wanna know what I picture?”

His voice was husky, a warning if ever there was one, “What did you picture, sweet girl?”

You moaned, your finger now closing in on the waist of his jeans, “You, bending me over the couch, that one is a favourite. Or waking you up with a blowjob, swallowing everything you’ve got because I know you taste delicious,” You unbuttoned his jeans now, sliding the zipper down with care, “But I think the winner, the one that always makes me scream your name, is thinking about riding you, Frankie. Climbing in your lap and just-“

Fuck, fuck he couldn’t hold back. He’d told you he couldn’t and yet you wouldn’t shut up and all thoughts of making love to you gently were out the fucking window, Frankie instead growled deeply and grabbed you by the arms, all but throwing you on the bed. You were smirking up at him, your eyes dark with lust and shining with triumph.

“Fuck, sweet girl, you wanna scream my name?” He removed his pants and briefs in one motion, his cock spring up, hard and leaking precum and you licked your lips, giving a little whimper at the sight of him. Frankie grasped himself, pumping his hand a few times as he stood over you, “Like what you see?”

“Jesus, Frankie-you need a new nickname,” You said, eyes glued to his cock, “Catfish makes no sense when you’re walking around with that fucking bat-wait!” He froze in the middle of removing his ball cap, looking at you with concern to see you bite your lip a little shyly, “Keep it on. The hat.”

Warmth spread through him at your request and Frankie replaced the hat on his head, then dropped to his knees next to the bed, his hands running up your thighs as you writhed. At your waist, he grasped the tops of your yoga pants and tugged them down, enjoying the way your body arched when you lifted your hips to help him. The only item of clothing either of you wore now was you in your bra, and fuck were you a sight.

Frankie gazed up at you from the floor in awe, his eyes roving over you hungrily as you watched him, propped up on your elbows. He started kissing up your thighs then, pushing your legs apart and spreading you, his hands kneading your flesh. “Sweet girl, you have such a pretty pussy, better than I imagined.” He moaned, biting into the soft flesh of your inner leg and drawing a whimper from you, “I can fucking smell you already, so wet and ready for me, fuck.”

“Oh god Frankie, please, touch me. I can’t wait anymore, I need you!”

“Told you,” Frankie climbed over top of you, his legs on either side of your body as he reached down and dragged you further onto the bed, his show of strength making you whimper, “It’s been a while. And you walk around here wearing my fucking clothes all the time. You don’t know what you do to me, Sunshine.” He grunted as he repositioned himself between your legs, his hands grasping the backs of them to haul your body against his, his cock pressed painfully against your thigh, “Gonna fuck you, sweet girl.” And with one careful, quick motion he thrust forward and each of you cried out at the pleasure of Frankie filling you.

“Frankie! Oh!” Your legs wrapped around him instantly, urging him as deep as possible as he split you open so deliciously. Once he was fully seated within you, Frankie dropped forward, propping himself on one arm, and cupped your face with his free hand. He looked into your eyes as he started a fast, hard pace, thrusting deep and reeling over how wet you were for him, how perfectly your velvet folds wrapped around him.

“Fuck, cariño, you’re fucking tight,” He grunted, kissing you sloppily as you threw your arms around him, hugging him close, “So tight for me, so perfect making those pretty noises, fuck.” Frankie groaned when you clenched around him as he spoke, “You like it when I tell you how perfect you are?”

“Ye-yeah Frankie, I love it. Oh, fuck!”

You were trembling now, squeezing him each time he whispered in your ear. Frankie kept up a string of praises and filthy words, taking note of the ones that had you gripping him extra hard.

He’d always had a casual enjoyment of dirty talk, nothing over the top, easy enough to shut off if it wasn’t enjoyed by the other person. But something about talking like this to you had his balls tightening that much faster, his thrusts becoming brutal.

Still murmuring in your ear, Frankie lowered his hand to your clit, experimentally rubbing, circling and pinching it to see what you liked. He was going to cum soon, and he’d be damned if you didn’t cum too. Though, as Frankie settled on circling you, both feeling and hearing how this was definitely how you liked it, his worries quickly dissipated when your hips were suddenly bucking up to meet his and you were screaming his name.

“That’s it, let go for me sweet girl,” Frankie’s thrusts were becoming increasingly sloppy as he neared the edge, “Are you-fuck, where should I?” He couldn’t even form a sentence now, he was so close and you were squeezing around him so perfectly as you closed in on your orgasm.

You understood though, your eyes meeting his as you pulled yourself together enough to reply, “Frankie, cum inside me please, please fill me up, pleasepleaseplease-“

“Fuck! H-here you go, perfect little thing!” He roared, dropping his weight over your and growling as he spilled inside you, as you bucked and writhed beneath him and screamed out, toppling over the edge and into oblivion with him. He heard himself cursing in Spanish as he experienced the most intense orgasm of his entire life, his hips slowing to continue to draw it out, still more cum filling you and you were a wreck under him, shivering and moaning.

“Yes, Frankie, yes.” You whimpered, your hands sliding into his hair-knocking his cap off-and tugging at his curls.

It took several minutes to recover, though Frankie had enough awareness to shift his weight so that you could breathe properly. Still hard inside you, he began to kiss you all over, peppering your face and neck before biting a few more marks into your neck, his tongue laving out to soothe. He enjoyed the way you whimpered when overstimulated, twitching when he pinched your nipple over your bra, squeaking his name when he pressed himself as deep inside you as he could one last time before pulling out.

Frankie collapsed on the bed next to you, then quickly tugged you into his arms and kissed the top of your head. His fear began to bubble back up now that the haze of passion was clearing, and he was starting to question every single moment that had occurred since you'd asked him if he was a tits man or an ass man.

What had he done? Was he going to lose you after this? Lose his entire reason for living for one amazing orgasm?

But it was like you could reach his mind, as only a few minutes had passed and then, with a little groan, you pulled yourself up so that you were on your elbow, looking down at Frankie. You took one look at his face and frowned, “That was quicker than I thought.”

Frankie stared at you, “What was?”

“I guessed it would take more than two minutes for you to start regretting this.”

Sighing, he pulled himself up, sitting on the edge of the bed. You followed, but crossed your legs and shuffled next to him. “I meant what I said, I love you,” Frankie explained, rubbing a hand over his face, “I love you so much, so fucking much it hurts. But the idea of messing this up is terrifying me, Sunshine. I don’t think I could lose you, I think it would kill me.”

“Frankie,” You crawled over him, straddling his hips and settling into his lap. You cupped his face firmly, looking into his eyes. Your expression was open, warm and vulnerable and a little incredulous, “You aren’t going to lose me, not ever. I want this-I want you, and everything you come with, okay?”

Though his heart was soaring, Frankie still worried, shaking his head, “I come with a lot of dark baggage, sweet girl. Not to mention the age difference.”

“Jesus, Frankie, do you really think I don’t know what I’m saying when I tell you I’m all in?” You asked him, not waiting for an answer before continuing. “I love you. Can I tell you when I knew?”

Frankie peered at you, his hands coming to hold your waist as he nodded.

“The boys trip.” You stated, using the term each of you agreed upon when referencing his three-week disappearance to Columbia. “When you first left, I knew something was off but I trust you, so I didn’t question it. But then after a few days, with no word from you, I started to really worry,” You paused, momentarily lost in thought, eyes dark now with the painful memory of his absence and the little information you’d come to learn about it since. “Did I ever tell you I booked a ticket to Columbia?”

This caught Frankie off guard because you most certainly had not told him that, “What, are you serious?”

“Yep. Booked it for the day after you ended up calling me. I don’t know what I was planning to do, but I knew you were there and, even if you were dead, I needed to be as well.” You stroked your thumbs over his cheeks, “After you called, and I knew you were alive and coming home, I realized that the way you said it meant you almost didn’t make it home, and I knew you weren’t saying something. I hung up and sat in my room for a minute and it occurred to me that you could have died and I would have never seen you again. That was when I knew it wasn’t just a crush.”

Heavy emotion filled his chest, rendering him unable to immediately respond. Frankie gathered you close and stood, clutching you against him and carrying you into the bathroom. He set you on the toilet before turning to his massive soaker tub and switching it on, fully intending on spending the rest of the night in there with you. When he turned around, you were carefully tidying yourself up. With a grunt, he grabbed a washcloth and ran it under warm water before kneeling in front of you and taking over.

“Why didn’t you say anything? After I came home, I mean.” His tone was light, as he didn’t mean to come across as accusing you of anything-it’s not like he had said anything to you. Good-natured as you were, you simply smiled at him, a little sadly.

“Too afraid, right at first,” You admitted, your eyes fluttering shut as he took care of you with the warm washcloth, “But when you came home you were a fucking wreck, Frankie. You lost your friend, Santi didn’t come back with you either, and Will and Benny had the same expression on their faces whenever I saw them. You saw some shit, did some shit, I don’t know and I’ll be real here, I don’t need you to ever feel like you should tell me what exactly happened. But after the first day you were back, I could see how much it changed you and I thought it would be selfish to tell you how I felt and add more emotional bullshit onto your plate.”

Frankie continued to kneel in front of you after tossing the washcloth into his laundry hamper. For a moment, the only sound in the room that of the tub filling. He stared into your eyes, seeing only how truthful you were being, how incredibly kind. He had never realized how completely he could love someone until he met you.

“I thought about you the entire time I was gone.” He admitted before carefully standing and checking the temperature of the water. He added a bath salt mixture that you’d bought a while ago, claiming it was a gift when really you were the one to use them, locking yourself away for hours to soak because you didn’t have a tub at your place. He shut the water off and held his arms out for you, which you eagerly stepped into and allowed him to guide you both into the water.

Once settled, your back against his chest, you replied. “Your face when you came home, I’ll never forget your expression.” His legs were on either side of you, and you began to lazily trace along his right thigh as both of you fell into your painful memories of his ill-fated trip.

Frankie sighed sadly, “I’m sorry I ever left, Sunshine. I never should have left you,” He tightened his grip around your waist under the water, one hand spread flat across your stomach, “It was just...fuck, everything went bad straight from the start. We had a moment of luck and then it was like nothing could go right. And I don’t know, I’m fucking gutted that Tom is gone, but it’s worse that Santiago won’t come home. He’s like my brother, and he blames himself for everything.”

Frankie knew you had no idea what he meant. You knew he and the guys were former special ops that served together, but when Santi had asked him to go to Columbia Frankie had only told you the basics-the country, who he would be with, that he might not have a lot of chances to call, and that it would be about a week. Santi had picked him up and you had been there to see him off that morning, and his friend had casually referenced a ‘boys trip’ while speaking with you as Frankie loaded his shit in the back.

Of course, you weren’t stupid. You worked with the VA, met a lot of former service members who ended up contracting out their skills after retiring or leaving due to injuries or lifestyle changes. And you knew Frankie, understood him like no one ever had before, which is why as he gave you further details you didn’t flinch or freeze up, you simply listened. When Frankie had gone quiet for a while, you eventually turned to gaze up at him over your shoulder, your cheek on his chest.

“From what I could tell,” You began slowly, your words cautious, “Whatever you did, what happened, you all put it aside to get Tom’s body home to his family. And considering the type of work Santi was doing out there for three years before he came here to ask you guys to join him, I figure you all must have almost died a few times each, probably took out some terrible men along the way.”

Frankie had to bite back his sob, turning his face away from you to stare, ashamed and remorseful at the wall. You reacted quickly, pulling yourself up and turning over, your naked body pressing over his as you grabbed Frankie’s head and gently turned him to look at you. “Baby,” You cooed, your eyes shining with concern, “Don’t do that, don’t hide from me.”

That was all it took. Frankie let the sob out and the relief of it was instantaneous, so much so that he let out another, then another, all while you held him and murmured soft, sweet words and pressing chaste kisses to his cheeks, his forehead, along his jaw. It didn’t last long, he’d cried so many times over everything that had gone down, but this was the first time you had revealed you sort of had an idea of what they had been up to, and you were still supporting him and loving him and it was all very overwhelming.

A short time later, Frankie wiped his eyes and shot you a grateful look, hoping you could sense how much he appreciated you. You settled into the water again, knees pulled to your chest as you faced him and trailed your hands comfortingly up and down his chest. “Sunshine,” He whispered, catching one hand and holding it against his heart, “I love you, thank you for being so fucking incredible.”

He tugged you closer, joining you in laughing when a little water sloshed up over the edge of the tub as you landed against him. You snuggled close and kissed him, your fingers carding into his curls and holding him steady. When Frankie took you to bed that night, there were no pillows between your bodies, not a shred of clothing separating you. He held you close, falling asleep faster than he had in years.

And for the first time in Frankie’s life, he felt whole and complete, like nothing could ever bring him into darkness again, not when he had you, literal sunshine, lighting his existence.

PART TWO

Permanent Taglist:

@mermaidxatxheart @paintballkid711

[lavendertales]

Just died in your arms tonight: part 1

pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader 

summary: you’ve been doing everything possible to keep that damn secret for two years, but one game night, everything gets exposed and things escalate between you and Frankie.

word count: 9.2k (sorry not sorry)

WARNINGS: cunnilingus, cowgirl, needy, unprotected piv.

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

A/N: Reader is dating Benny in the beginning (he’s the injured party here I’m SO SORRY BABY), Frankie is a dominant and insatiable son of a bitch. Hints of infidelity but not really. I may have finished writing this slightly drunk so don’t come at me pls.

series masterlist | AO3

This is a bad idea. I should’ve just said no. I should not have come here tonight.

That was the endless discourse going on your mind from the moment Pope told you he was going to pick you up and drive you to Will and Ben’s house until you were in his car, staring off in the long distance. It was the monthly game night, which meant that indiscretion, alcohol and everyone in the group being present were prerequisites to a chaotic and memorable evening. And it was always an amazing time. There was always laughter, borderline indecent stories and new memories made.

But this game night was organized on dangerous territory and it made you feel very much uneasy, to put it lightly.

The usual company was expected: Will and Ben, of course, since they were the hosts this time, Pope and his lady, Catherine, and Frankie. You adored each and every one of them, and especially Ben. You’ve been together for roughly a year and a half, and by all accounts, it was a wonderful relationship. Everything was great, and Ben was an amazing guy. You never missed any of his fights, always in the front row with his brother and two best friends, offering him your endless support and love, and Ben was treating you like a princess. You were happy. Cloud nine happy.

Or that’s how you should have felt, had it not been for that pestering, soul-crushing secret.

You had been hanging onto that secret for the past two years, painfully, desperately and as if your life depended on it. Which, whenever you thought about it, it might have been.

Frankie. Frankie was at fault.

His last name might have been Morales, but there was nothing moral whatsoever about that secret you’ve kept so expertly and ardently. It shouldn’t have happened in the first place, but it did. He clearly wanted it, and so did you, and you had been chasing that same rush ever since.

In the two years that you’ve had to keep that moment to yourself, nothing and no one that followed it provided you with that same emotion or that same ecstasy. Nothing and no one felt like that, regardless of how hard you tried to shift your focus elsewhere. You implored your mind to no reminisce about that night whenever you were alone and touch-deprived.

To no avail.

Your own touch going in between your legs seemed possessed by the memory of Frankie’s, each sound felt like it belonged to him. You were the only possessor of that knowledge and things had to remain that way, for everyone’s sake, but especially for Ben. You cared about him too much to let that information slip and crush him. What he didn’t knew couldn’t hurt him.

But every single time you so much as looked at Frankie, every single time he hugged you or kissed your cheek in an absurdly polite and friendly manner, the memory returned and devoured you, swallowed you in an ocean of guilty pleasure.

It had been the absolute best thing you had ever experienced. You were even ashamed to think so, strictly to yourself, but it was true. And Ben sure was a giving and amazing partner in bed, but whenever you dared to think back on that night that you shared with Frankie, you died a little on the inside knowing that Frankie was by far the best sex you’ve ever had. You sometimes went as far as to wonder why that was. You’ve always found yourself gravitating around Frankie ever since you’ve met a few years ago and you always considered him very attractive, by all means, but the timing never seemed right. Either he was unavailable or you were, and eventually, despite the tension you could’ve sworn lingered in between the two of you, you gave up.

But fucking hell, everything about that night had been intoxicating, and to this day it was stuck inside your mind like a blueprint, like it was the original sin. Frankie’s scent, the taste of his skin, his husky grunts and moans, his curses, the selfish yet wildly pleasurable way he pounded into you throughout the night, the way he pushed you past the edges of sanity and tested your buttons, even in his drunken haze, how he pleasured every part of you, his lips crashing against yours over and over and over—

It had been the longest, most intense and sexiest night of your life which now, two years later, you were forced to bury at the back of your mind, for you were the only one who knew about it. As blindly drunk as Frankie had been back then, he could never remember who the woman he slept with was. He had tried to identify her, but no luck. Part of you was eased, of course, it made it easier for you to keep things on the down low, but there was a larger part of you that wanted that again. You wanted that same high, that same pleasure, but nothing had been like that, and you knew that nothing ever will be. You were cursed to live with that knowledge and with whatever unresolved feelings you had for Frankie and shove them down. It was selfish and ignorant and many other terrible things, when Ben was right there, being all amazing and wonderful, but you couldn’t force those thoughts and feelings to just evaporate.

Deep down, your close friendship with Frankie was killing you slowly. It was the worst possible torture: he was everything you wanted, regardless of how hard you denied it or pretended like it never happened or in spite of the love you had for Ben. Your Benny. Adorable, hilarious, sassy and incredible Benny. You loved him. You knew you did.

But he was not the one you were in love with.

It was too late for confessions now, anyway. Too much time had passed and once you met Ben, introduced you to his friends, including Frankie, and you realized how badly things were tangled, you decided there was no way in hell you would allow that secret to come to the surface.

So you agreed to go to another game night, remaining quiet in the backseat of the car as Pope and Catherine laughed in the front, clearly excited for the evening to commence.

“Hey, everything good back there?” Pope asked you out of the blue.

“Yeah. Sure thing.”                                      

“You’re being awfully quiet, sweetie,” Catherine added, turning around to check on you. “You didn’t even sing along with us.”

You avoided her gaze and stared out the window. “It’s just been a long day today. That’s all. Don’t worry.”

“Good thing we get to blow off some steam tonight, huh?”

“Absolutely.”

You faked a smile which seemed to soothe Pope and Catherine and listened to the radio silently, despite the fact that your mind was a warzone. There had been plenty other instances when you’ve been in the same room with both Frankie and Ben and you pulled it off splendidly, managing to create a more than believable façade, but something about tonight gave you butterflies in your stomach, and not the good kind. Nonetheless, you forced yourself to relax and keep the same aura around everyone and enjoy yourself.

It was game night after all, at your boyfriend and his brother’s house. You definitely should have enjoyed yourself.

But not too much, you thought. No over-drinking tonight.

When you were finally at the door, your heart began to pound so loud in your chest you feared Pope and Catherine might be able to hear it too. You gulped when Will opened the door and welcomed the three of you in, thanking you for the bottles of wine and appetizers.

You entered the living room cautiously and you smiled widely when you laid your eyes on Ben, but your heart sunk completely the second you noticed he was immersed into a passionate conversation with Frankie. It seemed Frankie was having one of his good nights; he was wearing a black t-shirt, fitting to his strong arms and chest, a pair of blue jeans and his hair was kinda messy, but just enough to think he actually might have styled it.

Both men smiled at you and greeted you with a loud cheer, but Ben stood up first and rushed to you to hug you tightly and kiss you intimately as he always did.

“How do you get prettier with each every day?” he asked, watching you in awe.

“Oh, you know, a little makeup, a little healthy living—“

“God, you’re the sexiest woman alive, look at you!”

He spun you around and you couldn’t help but let out a flustered giggle. Those were the moments when you realized how much you loved him, how much he tried—and succeeded—to be a great boyfriend to you.

“You do look gorgeous tonight,” Frankie finally greeted you with a hug and a light kiss on your cheek.

You fought many impulses all at once, forcing a friendly smile at him, feeling your skin burn in the place where his lips so chastely touched you.

“Easy there, Catfish, that’s my girl,” Ben pretended to wrestle him.

“Come on, it’s not like that!”

The boys kept joking and playing around, so you took the opportunity to go to the kitchen and place the wine on the counter, smiling at Will. There was some sort of culpability in the way you fought hard to be civil and decent, and one thing that was surefire about Will was the fact that he could tell what his friends were up to in almost no time.

“So, what are we playing tonight?” you approached him.

He raised both brows at you, smirking. “I’ll give you a hint, it’s got nothing to do with Monopoly, honey.”

“The usual then.”

“You know it.”

The usual games included, but were not limited to, “Never have I ever”, “Spin the bottle” and “Truth or Dare”. They happened regardless of the level of drunkenness of the parties present, but they were guaranteed to be much more exposing and fun once everyone had a few drinks in them. And judging by how colorful and diverse the counter was in terms of alcoholic beverages, you were in for quite the evening.

“Poison of choice?” Will asked you.

“Oh, uh—maybe a little wine. I don’t really wanna get super wasted tonight.”

“Benny and I spent the afternoon arranging the rooms for everyone to safely crash here. We bought enough bottles to drink all of our body weight in. We got you. We’re a family here.”

He put one arm around you and laughed. Family, you thought, a pit forming in your stomach. How could you be part of something so wonderful when you were secretly hurting his brother so much, and without him even knowing or realizing how deeply things ran?

Without asking a second time, Will poured you a shot of tequila, which was indeed your so-called poison of choice, and invited you to join the rest of the gang in the living room. Everyone was already in a circle, drinks in their hands. Ben scooched over in order to sit next to you, nuzzling on your shoulder.

“What should we start with?” Will asked.

“You and Benny are the hosts, you choose,” Pope said.

“Alright, how about Truth or Dare?”

Affirmative sounds were heard from everyone, and the game began. You found comfort in Ben’s presence right next to you, doing your absolute best in ignoring Frankie and – oh, for fuck’s sake, did he start working out again or something? He looks too fucking good in that t-shirt, I—

You shook your head, snapping yourself back to reality.

“Cat. Truth or dare?”

“I’m on my first vodka cranberry only but I am feeling bold, so… dare.”

“I dare you to tell us the… most outrageous place you and Pope did it in.”

“Dude!”

“Like you didn’t know questions of this kind will pop up!”

You giggled witnessing the protest going on between Will and Pope, and gasped loudly when Catherine confessed, without much trouble, “photo booth at a carnival last summer”. You fleetingly turned to Ben and noticed he looked a bit anxious, which triggered you in the slightest.

“Are you okay?” you checked on him. “You seem a bit… nervous.”

“Don’t worry about me, baby. I’m more than fine.”

“Okay, if you say so. I thought maybe something was wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong. Everything is as perfect as it could be.”

He kissed your hand unpredictably, and it made you swoon. Once again he reminded you of the many reasons your relationship was so strong and wonderful that it needn’t have room for arguments or worries. Just as he lowered your hand back into your lap, you caught Frankie’s eyes, and you felt your throat close up. There was something undecipherable in his eyes, something you hadn’t picked up before, nor have you noticed prior. His mouth might be stretched into a dashing smile, but his caramel, warm eyes send an entirely dissimilar message.

The game continued, and the drinks kept being consumed. Catherine and Pope were the first ones who started revealing symptoms of drunkenness, but that doesn’t stop the questions from coming. And finally, after a while, Frankie became the target.

“Frankie, tell us,” Pope giggles, “truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Okay. What is… the best sex… you’ve ever had?”

“Ohh, that’s a good one!”

“I’m talkin’—mind-blowing, steamy, dirty, all you can think of. Absolute best sex.”

Frankie falls deep in thought, pondering over his memories. For a brief moment, so short that you could even deny its existence in the first place, you feel fear. For what exactly, you weren’t sure. It wasn’t as if he would remember everything right then and there. And even if he did by some mystical force or miracle, there was no way he would rat you or the both of you out. All things aside, Frankie was a gentleman, a true friend first and foremost.

“You guys remember I told you about that super drunken night we all had at the club, about two years ago? I think it was Pope’s birthday.”

“Ah yeah, it was on my birthday!”

“When you hooked up with that chick?”

Frankie nods. “To this day, I have no idea who she was, but it sure was the most mind-blowing sex ever.”

You froze. Your fear is suddenly justified and this time, you stare blankly at Frankie, almost pleading him to act it out as a joke or anything of the sort.

But he does no such thing.

“Really?” you ask after a while, gaining everyone’s attention. “That was—that was the best sex you’ve ever had? In your entire life?”

“Yeah. I don’t know what it was, but I’ll tell you one thing—“

“The hell you don’t know. You were fuckin’ loaded,” Pope laughed. “You were so drunk you bumped into the wall and apologized to it.”

“Fine, I was super wasted, but still—“

“You guys should’ve been there. I’ve never seen him that drunk. He would’ve done anything. Which I guess he did.”

The boys all smirked and chuckled, and you felt the incisive need to look away.

“What did you do?” Ben asked.

You turned your head to him, ready to beg for him not to ask questions, but it was too late. And it was not something that Frankie could’ve easily shared, either.

“It’s still a blur, but… lots of things. There was something super familiar about this girl. She was just… comfortable and… homey. Which made the sex all the more sweaty and crazy. And after that, it didn’t feel the same with anyone else. No one felt as good as that.”

You bit the inside of your mouth to refrain yourself from saying or even acting any other way than intrigued.

He was right. Of course he was right, but he had the luxury of not knowing. Meanwhile, everything he might have wanted to know about the apparent best sex of his life was right in front of him. Every position, every whisper, every moan, the whole fountain of truth was contained inside of you, and you fought harder than never to keep it to yourself.

Even if Frankie did just confess that he had been doing the very same thing as you have for the past two years: chasing that same high, and failing to find it. He wanted to feel all of those sensations again, and he had been searching high and low for them, with them nowhere to be found. You could’ve contemplated coming forward with the truth, but what was the point in it? You would’ve hurt Ben, Will, even Frankie and yourself in the process.

It was not worth it.

It had been a drunken mistake. It was buried in the past. You had to let it go.

“Truth or dare?” Frankie asked you.

And there it was. The beginning of the end if you didn’t choose right.

“Truth.”

“Boring. But okay. What’s a kink you have that you haven’t shared with anyone before?”

Instinctively, all heads turned to you and you felt the alcohol burn your insides, already twisted in an unnatural and excruciating way. You gulped, staring directly at Frankie, having that outrageous memory return into your mind, offering you endless flashbacks of the way he pushed himself inside of you, the way he whispered sweet nothings in your ear in Spanish as he made you cum over and over again, the regal way he praised your body with his hands, his mouth and his cock—

Your whole face turned red, and Ben leaned over to you with a smirk on his face to whisper, “Is it the one time we were in the parking lot—“

“No, no, that’s not—no,” you shyly cut him off immediately.

“Parking lot?! What—“

“Are you really in the position to judge parking lot stories right now, Cat?”

Laughter was shared among the six of you while everyone anticipated your answer.

“Well?” Pope demanded. “What is it?”

“I don’t really have secret kinks,” you tried to explain sincerely. “Benny knows them and that’s—what matters.”

Suddenly, Will’s gaze intercepted yours, stuck on Frankie for who knows how long, and he studied you intently, as if waiting for some major breakthrough to happen.

“Not one shameful kink?” Catherine pushed.

“No.”

You were now five shots of tequila in, and you began to crave something else. You stood up to go to the kitchen, and thank God you did because you just heard Catherine dare Ben to share some indecent story about which position he liked the most, and you rolled your eyes in amusement. You knew the answer, too, but you thought he should have the spotlight for that moment.

“Drink?”

The voice shook you awake from your road to tipsiness, which you did not appreciate, but you recognized it nonetheless. You smiled at Frankie and nodded, noticing he was fixing you a gin and tonic.

“About before,” you began, unable to contain yourself. “The… best sex thing…”

Frankie huffed softly, making you ache. “It wasn’t a discrete story, but I’m guessing none of us would be here tonight if that were the case.”

You managed to giggle yourself.

“No, we wouldn’t. But… come on. Between us, friends—“

“What are those guys, the enemy?”

“Let’s not start that conversation.”

Frankie laughed wholeheartedly, much to your pleasure, and you couldn’t help but follow his mimics and gestures exactly.

“But come on, seriously now. That cannot be the best sex in your life.”

“Why not?”

“I—I’m just saying, I mean—you probably get laid a lot, so…”

“I wouldn’t say ‘a lot’… I’m in a drought, actually. For a few months now. But it’s fine.”

“O-kay, uh… that’s… beside the point. Was that night… really the best? Out of everything you’ve ever had?”

You were genuinely curious. You didn’t have it in you to fight off the questions at least, if nothing else. You had to know. And Frankie nodded, instantly making you feel worse.

“Even though it was a drunken one night stand, it was… wild. It was so passionate and tender at the same time.”

“You still don’t remember anything from it?”

“Nope, not a thing. I know she had long, dark hair, and… that we had a lot of fun. I have these flashbacks of us, like… on top of each other, eating her out—“

“Yeah, okay, okay, got it.”

“Sorry for the TMI.”

You took the drink he casually offered to you, and you sighed deeply, admiring without your will the way that damned t-shirt fitted him. Ben wore t-shirts like that one often, and he was better built than Frankie, taller too, but something about Frankie was just… impossible to shake.

But you had to keep trying.

“I mean, you probably know what happened during the best sex of your life,” Frankie laughed it off.

You eyed him up and down without him noticing, luckily, and smiled nervously. “I do,” was all you said.

You returned to the group, taking a big sip of the gin and tonic and resuming your seat next to Ben, who smiled at you and wrapped one arm around your neck, territorial and proud as usual. You could’ve sworn that time you saw Frankie’s glare in your direction, peppered again with that unfamiliar expression, but you cast it aside.

Apparently you had moved onto “Never have I ever,” and Pope’s sentence made everyone squirm.

“It’s a thing!” he defended himself.

“It takes balls to do that,” Will laughed hysterically. “I will admit that is not me.”

“It takes another dick to do that, bro,” Ben joined in on the laughter.

“What are you guys laughing at?”

“Pegging.”

You laughed as well, allowing yourself to get lost into the fun time and chugging the remnant of your drink, immediately pouring yourself a glass of wine. So much for not over-drinking, you thought. But you needed it. The tension and the pressure were insanely high that night, and alcohol calmed you down.

Or it could’ve had the opposite effect and stir up some crazy emotions inside of you that you had been suppressing for two years.

Either way, you had to keep yourself in one piece somehow.

“Moving on from this weirdo,” Will announced, “Benny, you’re up.”

Ben rubbed his palms together, slightly breaking apart from you and excitedly staring at the whole group. The smile on his face was radiant, like a child entering a massive toy store for the first time.

“Alright, here I go. Never have I ever… proposed to anyone.”

There were frowns from everyone present, including yourself.

“No one here did,” Catherine pondered.

“Yeah, I didn’t—“

“Benny, what’s—“

Any smile you planned on flashing disappeared when you noticed Ben on his knee next to you. He revealed a beautiful ring in his hand, and he could not stop smiling at you. His eyes sparkled with the kind of excitement that he had whenever he won a fight, but stronger.

You were speechless and more so in absolute pain. Everything seemed to be falling all around you. You heard not Catherine’s “aww” or her excited squeal, not Pope’s fazed exclamations or Will’s approval. All you heard were your breaths, unsteady, and your heart racing crazily in your chest. Your eyes got teary, and you wished it was for the right reason.

“I thought I’d skip the cliché dinner at the restaurant and do this in a cozy environment,” Ben told you, his blue eyes glued onto your shocked figure. “You bring so much happiness in my life, baby, and I want that happiness for the rest of my life. I want this for as long as I’ve got on this good earth. Being in love with you is the best thing that could’ve happened to me.”

Being in love with you is the best thing that could’ve happened to me, he told you, all the while your eyes went to Frankie, who remained expressionless, to your confusion.

You were running low on air. Soon, you began to shake and feel like you were in purgatory rather than hell. Hell would’ve been a kinder sentence.

“Will you marry me?” he finished.

You opened your mouth, eyes completely teary, and no sound escaped. Your throat closed, your body went numb and your limbs cold. It should’ve been the most wonderful thing that could’ve happened, and you wished Ben a lifetime of happiness.

But it was in that moment that you realized you could not possibly hide that secret for the rest of your life. Things would only get worse—if possible.

“I—I really wish you hadn’t done this with everyone else here,” you muttered, visibly flustered and surprised.

“We won’t peer pressure you, we promise!” Catherine said. “Just… you know, say yes!”

The waiting went on forever, and all you could think about was poor Benny and how terrible he must’ve felt.

Or how terrible he was about to feel.

“Benny, I… oh my God,” you all but cried. “I can’t do this. I—I can’t.”

If it was any quieter, you could’ve effortlessly heard everyone’s thoughts. You knew for a fact there were wide eyes staring at you in disbelief, disappointed and even shocked looks, but you temporarily shifted your attention strictly onto Ben. You cupped his cheeks and pulled him in, wishing it was just the two of you in that moment so you could explain everything and—hopefully—make him understand.

“It’s not fair to you,” you whispered to him, remarking his frown in an instant. “I can’t hurt you like this.”

“How—how would this hurt me? What are you talking about, baby?”

“I love you so much. And I’m so, so sorry.”

“Baby—“

“But I’m not… in love… with you.”

Ben brought his forehead to meet yours, closing his eyes as if processing everything. You did the same, thus bidding an awfully painful goodbye to him, and stood up, apologized to the rest of the group, and walked out of the house.

“Baby, come on! Wait!”

You barely heard Ben anymore; the air was constricting, and finally, years due, you let out a good cry. You hid your face in your hands, screaming into them, with no one else to hear. Your mind wandered off to the pain that you just brought to Benny, the shock and confusion left to be rummaged by the others, and—

Frankie.

The night started with doubts and fears cradled inside your chest, and now everything was going down under. You might as well went back in there and shout the real reason for the shameless way you broke your boyfriend’s heart.

Will’s sudden voice behind you spooked you; you sat again in a straight position, not even wiping off the tears from your cheeks as you found bits and pieces of dignity to look straight at him.

“What the hell happened back there?”

You knew damn well Will would choose to defend his little brother because let’s be frank, who wouldn’t? You were the monster in that scenario, the heartless one who broke his brother’s heart.

“I’m sorry, Will,” you shouted, hoping he wouldn’t come near you.

But he did. He wasn’t as angry as you thought he would be, but rather investigative. He wanted to hear the truth from your mouth, and you began to fear that he already suspected something in regards to the motive behind your gesture.

“I’m really sorry,” you cried out to him. “I love Benny, I swear I do! That’s why I can’t marry him.”

“Because you do love him? What the fuck are you talking about?”

You took a deep breath and cried some more against your best attempts to not break down more. Will hugged you immediately, stroking your head as you let it out. It was surprising that a man of his size and skills could be so devoted and sensitive towards both his family and friends.

“Who are you in love with then?”

That question, which you dreaded for years, had finally surfaced and it did so biting, stinging harshly. You raised your head from his chest and looked at him upsettingly, your eyes begging him not to pursue the matter any further. But again, Will’s intuition was infallible, and of course he had picked up on your subtle signals.

“Will, please, don’t…”

“I just wanna know. Cause I look at you and Benny and… I see you guys happy and in love and… we all thought this was it. This was it for you two, and now…”

He paused, huffing and examining your face again. “You said you weren’t in love with him. It’s someone else.”

Your lips felt sawn together as you kept staring at Will, unable and unwilling to provide a response. Why cause any further heartbreak?

But you were in so much deep shit already, you might as well just confess the whole thing.

“I don’t wanna say it,” you said. “I really don’t wanna say it. If I do… the second it comes out… it’s gonna be real and… agonizing, more so than it is already.”

“Listen to me—“

“What good is it gonna do, Will? The damage has been done.”

“I love you almost as much as I love Benny. And I think he just deserves a proper explanation for all of this. That’s all.”

When you again didn’t say anything, Will took it upon himself to draw the conclusions.

“I’m guessing it’s not Pope. Or Catherine,” he began, watching your reactions closely. “Otherwise Catherine would’ve acted a lot more territorial around you and she’s super chill whenever you’re around. Which leaves me and Frankie.”

Your eyes met his, filled with guilt and shame, and you held your breath, for once hoping that single action would cut the air out of your lungs and you’d be put out of your misery.

“And it’s… not me. Is it?”

You shook your head so quickly and vaguely noticeable that he could’ve missed it. But he didn’t. When realization hit, Will huffed, staring at you in a way which sent pity vibes. This time around, you actually wanted to speak up, and that’s when Frankie came out, frantically searching for Will.

“Pope and Cat are in there with Benny but you should probably—“

“Yeah.”

Will left, leaving you and Frankie alone on the sidewalk. He saw your cried out face, the way your hands were shaking slightly and the pure devastation on your face.

That secret was eating you alive, and it had just gotten to your core.

“What the hell was all that about?” he asked you.

“Don’t start too, please.”

“You love Ben, and he loves you. Why—“

“Because! There are other reasons, other things which influence a big decision like this one! Not everything is as simple as loving someone and being loved back!”

Frankie frowned, coming closer to you as he softly spoke your name.

“I don’t get it.”

“No, of course you don’t. You have the immense luxury of lacking the vital piece of information that I have, and trust me, you are much better off this way. You are much luckier than I am. Although… at the moment, it would seem I am below rock bottom.”

“What information are you talking about? Just—just tell me what it is, why you said you can’t marry Benny—“

“Frankie… don’t.”

“You’re a super reasonable person, I’m sure you have a solid reason for it.”

“For the love of—“

“Come on. Between us, friends.”

His words made you lose any fraction of reality you might have been a part of, tearing you apart. You came closer to him, biting your lower lip and feeling your eyes swell up with tears again.

“What if I told you… that I know who the girl from that night is? The girl you… said you had the best night of your life with?”

He frowned, not understanding a thing of what was going on. “Come on, don’t change the subject—“

“Just—answer me.”

“How would you even know who she is?”

Mouth agape, the words got stuck inside your throat, unwilling to come out. The way he was looking at you, with so much curiosity, pleading for you to simply open up to him, was much more devastating than you would’ve expected.

“Because you’re looking at her.”

Breathless, you watched his facial expression darken by the second, his mind clearly running at high speed in the attempt to verify the validity of your words. After a while, denial took over him, and he flashed a flustered smile at you, stepping further away from you.

“No. No way, no. No fucking way,” he laughed.

You shook your head and let tears run down your face again, which was nothing but a serious hint to Frankie that you were dead serious.

“No, no, no, no,” he began to panic. “No, no fucking way!”

“Frankie—“

“Why would you say something like that?! Why the fuck would you make up such a bullshit story?!”

“Bullshit story?!”

“You’re Benny’s girl, you’re—he loves you!”

“I know that!”

“Then why are you lying to me?!”

“I am not lying, you moron!”

Frankie ran his hands through his hair, nearly ripping it apart, and he began to pace on the sidewalk, the amount of fear and anxiety running through him feeling like a killer on the loose.

“Why would I lie about that?” you chased after him. “Who in their right mind would come up with such a thing?!”

“I don’t fucking know! You’re – you’re afraid of moving too fast with Benny and you’ve decided to use the one thing I don’t know about myself against me—“

“I am not afraid of anything like that and I am not using this against you, so shut the fuck up!”

The idea that struck you was perhaps terrible, downright ridiculous and even more hurtful, but now that it was all out in the open, you had to convince Frankie of the truth.

“Kiss me.”

He stopped pacing, looking at you as if you just blurted out the most inappropriate suggestion ever known to mankind.

Which, in retrospect, it might have been.

“What?” he paced to you gradually, like stalking a prey.

“You said you only remember how warm she felt, how homey and comfortable she felt, so… kiss me.”

“I—no, I don’t wanna kiss you. You’re—you’re Benny’s—“

“I just turned down his proposal and told him that I am not in love with him, Frankie. Do you honestly believe there is a tomorrow for me and him?”

He remained silent, knowing it to be true.

“Kiss me,” you begged a third time.

You did not expect him to actually do it, frankly; you expected him to stand his ground and refuse you over and over, but he rushed to you and smashed his lips to yours, all the while having his hands on your back, steadily going upwards.

Just as you feared, the kiss brought back every single moment from that night you shared: the passion, the scorching hot tension, everything was still there, and you felt whole like you haven’t in a long time.

Frankie initiated the kiss, and he was the one who broke it, catching his breath and looking at you with disbelief. He couldn’t deny it anymore. You did tell the truth. And just like that, the foggy memory became clearer: the wonderful curls he tugged on were yours; your warmth and your taste were yours, and the remembrance of that feeling every time he was alone he now knew they all belonged to you.

And he belonged to you, too.

“It was you,” he muttered, somehow still unable to believe. “All this time, two years of my life trying to find the girl… and it was you.”

He got closer to you, biting his lower lip as he stared you down.

“For the past two years, I have been dating and fucking and trying to find that same feeling, same emotion, and I wasn’t able to find it. I thought it was a once in a lifetime thing and I should let it go. And I did. After like eight months, I gave up. I gave up on finding that girl that fucked me up in the most incredible way and made me fall madly in love with her. Do you have any idea how it feels now to know that it was you? That for two whole years, I craved and yearned and jacked off, unknowingly, to the thought of my best friend’s girlfriend?”

Everything he was saying was sprayed with an understandable anger, and every single word hung on to you as if glued. But it wasn’t about him and him alone.

“Don’t play the victim here, Frankie,” you muttered, anger nesting inside of you too. “You’re not the victim.”

“How the fuck not?”

“Neither one of us is. There’s only one victim here, and that’s Benny. This is all my fault and I acknowledge that, but you lived these two years carefree. I am the one who had to live with this. No one else. Me.”

“Why didn’t you say something after it happened? It would’ve been the easiest fucking thing.”

“It would, wouldn’t it? Except the fact that whenever I wanted to bring it up, you were busy with your many bimbos and then… I met Benny and Will, we started going out and… it was too late for a confession.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Yes, it was. How the fuck was I supposed to tell him that I slept with one of his best friends? Even if it was before I knew him. How was I supposed to do that?”

Frankie offered no reply. He knew, deep down, that you were not entirely wrong, but he still felt like crap. All he wanted in that moment was to regain those lost couple of years and spend them with you, selfishly and unapologetically but again, he knew you were right.

“So much for game night,” he murmured, discernably still shaken.

“I’m pretty sure I just lost a boyfriend and some friends tonight.”

“I’m still here.”

“For how long, I wonder?”

“For… however long you want me to.”

You stared at him, fighting the urge to kiss him again until you ran out of breath. He was saying everything you hoped and dreamed he would in all of that agonizing time, and yet your mind had to be the bigger organ and take over the rationality part of yourself.

“We can’t kiss again,” you said, although your voice exposed that burning desire.

Frankie lingered, debating over his options. “I know,” was what he chose to respond with.

“I should… go home. I ruined the evening enough.”

“Tell me one thing.”

“What?”

“Was it just physical? Since you could remember every single detail… was it just that? A one night stand?”

“Why would you feel the need to ask me such a ridiculous question, Frankie?”

“I—“

“I ruined game night, and… I broke your best friend’s heart because of something that happened two fucking years ago. Two years you’ve been living in my head, Frankie. Two whole years during which I tried like hell to not think about that night, about you and me and… everything that we did… and I felt like the worst piece of shit ruining Benny like that.”

“What did we do?”

The question was much more intricate than you would’ve ever let yourself believe. It was not sheer curiosity, nor innocent by any means. Your tipsiness was long gone by the time that question was dropped on you and you seriously contemplated whether you should answer or not. But then again, after everything that went down in the past hour, what point was there anymore to hide… anything, really?

As much as you felt like the trashiest human being on the face of the earth, looking at Frankie right then and there, feeling your heart skip several beats and your stomach filled with butterflies as you involuntarily reminisced that kiss from mere moments ago, you had to acknowledge the truth, regardless of how harsh it might have been.

You were madly in love with Frankie, and there was no one who could make you feel the way he did.

“It was… a long night,” you said, unsure if you should continue.

“That much I can tell. But I want to know exactly what we did.”

“Why? What good is it gonna do?”

He loomed you again, a dark expression in his eyes. “It might be useful someday.”

You gulped, quite amazed at the boldness of his statement, deciding for once that you had spent far too long trapped inside your own mind, a prisoner of your own needs and wishes and a slave to the fake way you were “supposed” to feel. You had forged almost everything for the sake of everyone else, not listening to yourself and your own wishes. You had done so since you were a kid, always putting others first and not acknowledging the fact that you were just as human as the rest of them and that you too deserved your own happy ending.

You had not been selfish.

You had been a damn fool.

“Even as incredibly drunk as you were, you managed to make me feel incredible,” you said, responding to his touch by running your hands down his torso. “You first went down on me, literally burying your face down there for… I don’t know how long. It could’ve been minutes, it could’ve been hours. You made me cum twice on your face, and then… I offered to blow you, but you refused. You said it was about me, not you. Which was something I have never heard from a man before, and it only made me want you more. Then it was all… an entanglement of… missionary, cowgirl, fingering, 69… it was a long night.”

Speechless, Frankie’s mouth remained ajar, feeling his blood boil in his veins at the mere thought of those scenes. If anything, he had been living in a lie just as much as you had.

He had been very happy for you and Ben ever since you had your first date, but at the same time, he always felt like there was some sort of unresolved pressure in between you two, sitting there ready to explode, much like he was. He too loved Ben and Will like his own brothers, but…

…for fuck’s sake.

Didn’t he deserve his happiness as well?

And if the story was really about you and him in the first place, what harm was really there to be done?

“Anyway,” you resumed, feeling your face and entire body flushed from the confession, “I should call a cab to get home.”

“I’ll walk you home.”

You stared at him, refraining a chuckle. “You should probably head back to your friend in there, whose world just came crashing down.”

“You’re my friend, too.”

This time you frowned. “A friend you’ve been unknowingly jacking off to for months.”

Frankie’s eyes widened at the sudden and outrageous commentary.

“I’ve done the same,” you shamelessly confessed, shocking him even more.

“You—what?”

You chuckled, lowering your head temporarily. “When you’re alone, your mind wanders. And mine wandered to the best night of my life.”

Frankie grabbed your hand and brought you to his chest, his warm breath on your neck, tickling your skin and your senses, seemingly awakening some very poor decision making skills.

“That was the best sex you have ever had?” he questioned you.

You nodded, words failing to leave your lips. Frankie’s body burned him alive, and he couldn’t take it anymore.

He pulled you further in and kissed you deeply, cupping your cheeks as his tongue slid into your mouth, touching all the right spots. One of his hands traveled down your back, ever so carefully resting above your ass, enough to drive you crazy. As a result, you put your arms around his neck, tugging at his hair every once in a while and thus making Frankie moan into the kiss. The moment in itself was unbearably vexing, and as a result, an erection appeared, the premature result of a two years-long wait. He was pushing against you without his will or realization, and you fleetingly wished you weren’t in the middle of the sidewalk, outside your now ex-boyfriend’s house.

The kiss progressed within seconds, disclosing a raging desire and emanating an insane amount of lust and love alike; Frankie’s hands were eagerly traveling up from your waist down to your thighs, teasing them. The gentle tugging you applied to his hair drove him wild, and he only broke the kiss to search desperately for a cab.

“Frankie—“

“If we don’t find a cab now to get you home, I might just explode.”

You could easily read eagerness and excitement alike on his face. You did your fair share of waiting, and so did he, and swiftly, as easy as that, nothing else seemed to matter. Everything either one of you had done over the past couple of years had led you to that specific moment, and it was about damn time you both took what you wanted.

If humans were selfish by nature, then so be it.

It was not just physical, for neither one of you.

You had no real recollection of the drive back to your place. Time seemed to be moving too fast for you to keep up with it.

In a heartbeat, you removed all of your clothes, and so did Frankie. You were writhing and beneath him, allowing him to take full control. His hunger was insatiable, his desires naughty and nearly reckless; he took his sweet time to admire you in all of your glory, pressing fugitive kisses all over your skin, from your knees to your neck, cheeks and mouth, smiling whenever a moan bolted your lips. You cupped both his cheeks, kissing him as madly as you knew how to, to which Frankie could only respond with a very low grunt and sigh of relief simultaneously. His good and kind side were yelling at him relentlessly to consider what he was about to do with his best friend’s girl—former?—and how he must’ve been still at his house, disappointed and broken while he was going to town with you.

But even with that knowledge in mind, he knew he was yours and you were his as much as he knew that 2+2 = 4. Frankie smirked into the kiss, dropping his weight onto you, sliding over to your side to trap your arm under him. He slithered his hand under your neck, grabbing your other and intertwined your fingers with his. All the while, his lips hadn’t left yours for one moment, his mouth taking its precious time to swallow every breath, absorb every sound and movement that you made. This time he was sober and fully aware of his surrounding and desires, and if you thought that your one night stand was the best you’ve ever had, you were in for a treat.

Frankie kissed your neck all the way down to your collarbones, nibbling at your delicate skin. Your back arched naturally, his tongue moving in tantalizing motions against your pulse. Your hand fought his for dominance, but his hold was fierce and unbinding.

You quickly remarked the dark glow of his eyes, how consumed by desire they were, and you fully realized, for the first time since you knew him, that this was where you were supposed to be: with him, fully his and yours, respectively. Frankie held down your shaking leg as he dipped his mouth onto your pussy, keeping your legs spread for him. His fingers made circling, secure motions around your clit, as did his tongue. Your hips were throbbing already, moving against his face and hand, needy and desperate, shameless. The heat in your stomach was building with each licking motion of his tongue, sinful and great, just as you remembered, and your heartbeat pounded in your chest and ears alike. Frankie’s index and middle finger worked against your clit harder, moving faster, needing you to reach your high just as he commanded.

“F-Fuck—Frankie—F-Frankie, I’m—“

“I know, baby.”

He sucked you dry, and the moan you let out was simply lurid. The orgasm was blinding, gut-wrenching and oh, how you missed that feeling. It felt like you haven’t even had intercourse with anyone ever before until he came along—in all the ways. Your body crashed and shivered under his touch, and you pushed your hips forward to meet his face more, smearing him with your juices. When his tongue ceased its motions against your wet folds, he peppered kisses inside your thighs, soft and small. He pushed his hands up your body, fingertips toying with your breasts in the meantime, earning more moans from you. Your hands rushed to grab his wrists and your lungs felt air deprived in all of that teasing.

But Frankie didn’t surrender to anything. Too long he had been starving, wondering and feeling lost. It was a side of him that you hadn’t really thought existed. He was commanding and determined, dark and greedy.

And fucking hell if you didn’t love it.

Frankie reached over and took your thigh into his tight grip, pulling you over him so that you were straddling his lap, your forearms perched anxiously on his shoulders. Frankie’s hold over your hips was firm and secure. There was no escape. Not that you wished for one.

“Ready to take me in?” he cooed.

You nodded, finding that words fled out of your mind completely. You exhaled with a shudder, and Frankie pulled you down onto his cock, painfully hard, throbbing for what felt like an eternity. He pushed you down fully onto him, and all of your overstimulated nerves fired up rapidly.

Frankie let out a tortured moan, but his grip remained firm and certain. He rolled your hips so that you rubbed against him in the most exquisite way. You felt every single thing: the wait, the lingering tension, the pain and desire, the heartbreak, all of it. You felt how controlling he was forcing himself to be, and you also felt your weakness as he made you grind against him.

“F-Frankie—come on, please—“

Body shaking just from him entering you, you let his hands push you down onto his erection so hard that you carved your nails into his neck and back for support.

“F-Fuck—“was all you could let out.

“I got you baby, I got you.”

He bit your earlobe teasingly, but the reality was that he was truly close to bursting. He continued to place kisses on your collarbones and breasts, nuzzling in between them as his hands continuously drove your hips up and down, riding his cock mercilessly.

Your face contorted in pleasure, aching it and needing it as your body began to feel on edge again. Faster than before though, and under his expert and merciless touch, you bounced at his free will, granting his—and your—filthy wish, no questions asked. Your core tightened and the muscles in your belly burned with an ecstasy you haven’t felt since—well, him. You were moaning uncontrollably, fingers digging into his shoulders in a demonic plea for him to let you finish.

“Please F-Frankie—oh m-my fucking G-God—“

Crying out for your sweet release, your body was busy taking in Frankie as he pushed himself onto you, his cock twitching against your spot, burying himself inside of you. You felt his muscles tense under your touch and you figured he wouldn’t last long either. Your eyes shot into Frankie’s loving and consuming stare, his breath slow and measured in spite of his contradictory moves. His embrace soothed you, brought you home right where you wanted and needed to be. Rough and passionate alike, Frankie wanted you to know that you drove him just as mad as he did you, and that nothing that had transpired in those two years matter anymore. His lips wanted you to understand that you were everything he had desperately looked for, and as you convulsed beneath him, Frankie wanted you to have it all.

Pulling his lips away from your jaw, he searched for your eyes again, begging for you to listen to him and feel him through your neediness.

“If you want it s-so bad—“he muttered, “take it.”

His hips stuttered almost as you clenched around him, your climax rushing up on you at last.

“I’m yours,” he said. “It’s all yours—I’m—yours.”

You rocked your head back, the position making Frankie completely bottom out inside you. You shuddered, hovering in the slightest, and clenched around his cock so hard that you got Frankie grunting out loud. You kept bouncing up and down, hunting that almost forgotten euphoria and your nails scratching down his biceps as you climaxed on him. Waves of pleasure were washing over you just as they did over him, your body beginning to shake with each hip movement. You held onto his shoulders for support, digging into his flesh just as harshly, and you could feel him tightening around you too. You both chased the high: you needed it like you needed air for survival, it seemed, screaming for the orgasm you were both denied since that fucking one night stand. He thrust deep into you, breaking you apart, and you rode him through your and his high, making sure you both were left satisfied physically if nothing else. His hold over your hips tightened, and his face contorted with ecstasy as he came into you, spilling his seed through you and all over your entrance, without any shame or any other thought residing in his mind.

Frankie’s body arched off of the bed, his head tipping back as he shouted out his release, loud and proud. Lurching forward, he wrapped his arms around your, holding you close to him as he quivered under the immense pressure of his climax and your touch. You held him against your breasts and tried to calm him down the second you reckoned he was down from his orgasm. Frankie was shaking beneath you, feeling your walls clench around his cock, and you giggled when he whimpered. He sunk his mouth onto your breasts in retaliation.

The treatment didn’t last long; Frankie rolled over and dragged you along with him, pressing light kisses all over your forehead, nose, cheeks and mouth, in the sweetest manner possible, as if he wasn’t humping you desperately less than a minute ago.

“You’re truly a wonder,” you jokingly said.

“You thought I was done?”

You shot him a twisted look, but gained only a smirk in return. “The night is still young, baby.”

next

[freelancearsonist]

Wait for Me

Santiago “Pope” Garcia x fem!Reader

Rated MA for graphic sexual content, unplanned pregnancy, bad language, and angst with a happy ending

3,899 words

You close your eyes for a second and take a deep breath, letting everything sink in. All of the sounds and smells and feelings of the evening soak into you, simultaneously warming you and fueling your melancholia.

You’re trying to stay positive. At least he told you this time. Last time he left, he didn’t say a word and you worried he was dead for three months. At least this time, you know that he’s leaving.

But you can’t help worrying. Because if he’s telling you he’s going somewhere, there’s got to be a worse condition. He’s not going to have any way to contact you, or he’s going to be gone way longer than usual, or he’s never coming back. There has to be worse news coming with this.

But you’re trying to stay positive, so you push those thoughts to the back of your head. The sun’s just about completely set, and you’re almost out of beer. Still, you’re desperate to keep the party going. Your chance at finally confessing that you have feelings for Santi before he goes off to prance around in the jungle dies with the fire.

Frankie leaves first. His new girlfriend is blowing up his phone, and from the blush on his face, the messages aren’t exactly safe-for-work.

And then Will. His fiancé asked him to stop at the grocery store on his way home, and he had to leave a little early if he wanted to make it before they closed.

Benny was the last to go. He didn’t really have anything to do or go home for, but he could tell something was brewing between you and Santi, and he wasn’t about to cockblock you on Santi’s last night in America. He told you as much, low in your ear when he hugs you and thanks you for hosting.

“He’s head-over-heels for you, Tigerlily.”

You smile softly at the moniker that Santi coined for you.

“Seriously. Just go for it. This is your last chance. He’s been in love with you for years, and I know you have a thing for him, too. Just go for it. He won’t turn you down.”

Your face heats at his words, and you’re glad that it’s too dark for anyone to see.

You clear your throat and pat him on the back. “Thanks, Benny. See you later.”

And then it’s just you and Santi.

You settle into the hammock next to the fire, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself.

“I guess it’s a little cold for a bonfire,” you laugh softly, watching as the glow of the flames shift and crackle and cast beautiful shadows over your beautiful companion.

Santi chuckles quietly at that. “I don’t mind, honestly. It’s the last time I’ll be cold for a while.”

Right. He leaves in the morning. For a very, very long time. For all you know, this might be the last time you ever see him. It’s a very real possibility that the only way he’ll return to you is in a body bag.

“You mind passing me another beer, Tigerlily?” He asks sweetly, nodding to the cooler set beside your hammock.

You clear your throat as you stand and pass one to him.

“Why do you call me that? Tigerlily? I like it, I’ve just... never really understood the meaning.” You laugh a little bit, because you’re so nervous you’re almost rambling.

He smiles softly and looks up at you like you’re the only other person in the universe. He’s always made you feel like that—like nothing matters but being with him.

He clears his throat. “Because you’re strong and ferocious, but you’re also beautiful and... really fucking perfect.”

You reach for each other like two atoms of the same element, desperate to be bonded together. You collide like particles traveling at a high velocity, melding together and shifting until you’re not two parts but one whole.

His mouth fits perfectly to yours, his hands set just right on your hips. He is perfectly contoured to you, as if built specifically to kiss and touch and hold you. As if he is the other half of you, in soul and body.

You gasp when you shift and one of his firm, muscular thighs slides between your legs to press directly against your heat.

“Shit,” he pants, his lips traveling down your neck and nipping at your collarbone. “Are... please tell me this isn’t just because I’m leaving.”

“No,” you whisper, your fingers traveling up to settling in his soft curls. “No, I’ve... I’ve wanted this for so long, Santi. I’ve wanted you anyway you’ll let me have you.”

He chuckles morosely at that. “I... I have too. I had no clue you were interested... we should’ve done this a long time ago. Now... you don’t want to come with me, do you?”

He wears a soft smile, but you can tell that he’s genuinely asking. And you would, if you didn’t have a very important job and a very important house mortgage. You never expected yourself to become so unintentionally domestic.

“I can’t,” you tell him reluctantly. “I would. Believe me. But... there’s too much here. I have a life, and... I’m tired, Santi. I love working with you, but I just can’t do that stuff anymore. We’re too old.”

He chuckles at that. “Don’t I know it. Okay. Then... are you comfortable with this?” He flexes his thigh beneath you, and you gasp again.

“Yes,” you pant, subtly grinding yourself into the meat of his leg. “Fuck, yes. Please... I want you, Santiago. So bad. Even if... even though you have to leave tomorrow.”

His hands slowly slide up your thighs and over your hips, snagging under your shirt and pushing it up as he goes.

“Can I?” He asks hesitantly as he tugs on the garment.

“Please.”

He tugs your shirt over your head gently, his hands immediately roving over all the new skin presented to him. Even though the cold night breeze surrounds you, you feel nothing but warmth in his embrace.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, Tigerlily,” he breathes, somehow sounding both reverent and morose. He’s excited to finally see you, and pissed that he’ll have to leave you.

You flush under his praise as his hands slide behind you and quickly unclasp your bra.

He gasps as you let the fabric slide down your arms, bottom lip pulled between his teeth and eyes so dark with hunger that they look black.

“I haven’t... done this in a while,” you admit sheepishly.

“If you wanna stop, we stop,” he tells you, voice firm yet somehow soft at the same time. “All you have to do is say the word and we won’t go any farther, okay? I want you to be good with this. Can I touch you?”

“Yes.” It’s a breathless whisper that turns into a moan as his warm palms cup your breasts and squeeze gently.

Your hips buck against him, drawing the most beautiful and sinful moan from his lips. 

“God, you have no fuckin’ clue how long I’ve wanted you,” he gasps.

“A really long time, if it’s anything like how long I’ve wanted you.”

Santi takes you slowly and gently, rocking his hips up into you to meet the pace that you slowly drop down onto him. He’s big and thick and everything you’ve ever wanted, and you try not to think about how this might be the last time you get him when he takes you inside and guides you into your shower.

He takes you again in the shower—pins you to the wall and thrusts into you urgently. He’s starting to realize that the hours are trickling away, and he’ll have to leave you much sooner than he wants to.

He spills into you one last time when he finally gets you in bed, crying out hoarsely as he empties himself into you for the third time.

He smirks playfully as he pulls you to rest against his chest.

“There,” he grins. “Should be enough cum inside you now to last until I get back. And I promise I’ll fill you up first thing when I get back. If... if you wanna wait for me. And if you don’t...”

“I’ll wait,” you promise without really thinking about the implication. “There’s no one else I really wanna be with, anyway.”

Santi leaves a kiss on your forehead and a note on the pillow when he wakes up.

I’m sorry. I wish we had more time. Wait for me, Tigerlily.

You want to cry when you wake up and feel that the other side of the bed is cold. You wanted to give him a proper goodbye—but then again, he’s never believed in saying goodbye. Always said it felt too permanent. And especially now, he didn’t want it to be permanent. Him refusing to say goodbye to you was a sign that he would come back to you even if it killed him.

You go about life as normal without Santi—you don’t even tell the boys about the glorious night that the two of you shared.

You see them less and less without Santi around, which isn’t entirely surprising. He’s always been the glue of the group, the one who brought all of you together. It just doesn’t feel right to be around the others without him there.

But then you start to feel off. Off in a way that terrifies you to your very core.

Will is terrified when you call him at midnight, nearly two months after the bonfire. He can’t hear your through your sobs, but the fact that you’re so upset scares him more than anything ever has before. He’s worried that you’ve received news about Santi somehow—bad news.

It’s even worse when he shows up at your house, though. You’re curled up on your bathroom floor when he finds you and scoops you into his arms. He holds you for a long time—an hour, maybe even two—before you calm down enough to tell him what’s wrong.

Of course, he figured out the second he stepped foot in your bathroom. He saw the three positive pregnancy tests on the counter. 

You cry yourself to sleep in his arms, and he’s gentle as he carries you to bed. He doesn’t get any information out of you—who the father is, how long it’s been. But he has a sneaking suspicion. It adds up just a little too conveniently.

Will sleeps on your couch and wakes up early to make you breakfast. Eggs and bacon and toast and fruit—a little bit of everything because it’s important that you eat well. He’s so remarkably kind and patient, and you wish there was a way to repay him.

The next seven months go by quickly. The boys are by your side more than ever now, helping without your request when your yard needs to be mowed or you need to go to an ultrasound appointment. No one asks to know who the father is, or comments on your lack of explanation. There’s an unspoken knowledge and agreement between the three of them.

When you finally go into labor, all three of them are there for you. The only problem is that only one is allowed in the delivery room with you. Benny is anxious and Frankie has a weak stomach, so Will holds your hand and helps you breathe as you push out a little girl with dark hair and beautiful brown eyes.

She looks exactly like her father. But the boys don’t say anything. They don’t say anything when you name her Lily, either—but they all make the connection to the nickname Santi always used for you. They especially don’t say anything when you decide to give her his last name.

Frankie stays with you for nearly an entire week when you get discharged from the hospital. He gets up in the middle of the night when Lily cries and brings her to you to feed, or he changes her diaper, or he rocks her back to sleep. He becomes your right hand man—he and his new girlfriend are always at your beck and call, no matter what time.

They stay late after Lily’s first birthday party and help you clean up—actually, they do all the cleaning up while you sit on the back porch and stare down the place where your daughter was conceived.

Frankie comes out after a while and sits next to you, and the silence is thick enough to cut with a knife but it’s somehow comfortable at the same time.

“She looks exactly like him.”

It’s the first time anyone’s brought him up around you in more than a year, and you’re not sure why it hurts as much as it does.

“She does, doesn’t she?”

“You haven’t heard from him.”

“No.”

Frankie sighs deeply. “He doesn’t know?”

“How the fuck was I supposed to tell him?” You sigh, but there’s no venom in your tone. You just sound tired. “It’s not like he left a forwarding address or a phone number or anything. I... I wouldn’t know how to get ahold of him if I wanted to.”

“You don’t want him to know?”

You pause contemplatively. “No... it’s not that easy.”

“Tell me right now what you want. Don’t think about it, don’t tell me it’s complicated. Tell me what you want from him.”

You don’t hesitate before you answer. “I want him to be here.”

“But he’s not,” Frankie states sadly. “Maybe you should at least try to reach out. He might come back if he finds out.”

“That’s... that’s the problem,” you sigh. “If... if he hadn’t left, I would want nothing more than to do all this with him. But now that he’s gone... I can’t be the reason he comes back. He... he’d say he wouldn’t, but a part of him would resent me for stopping him from seeing this job through. Even if it was unconscious. I know how this life works.”

Frankie doesn’t argue with you. He can’t argue, because he knows you’re right. Pope is entirely dedicated—he’s like a horse with a blinder. He focuses on one thing at a time and throws himself entirely into it. He needs to see this through so that his dedication can shift and he can devote himself entirely to his daughter.

Benny’s the one who tells you when he hears from Santiago for the first time in over three years.

He sits on your couch with a soda in hand, watching with a soft smile as Lily draws. She’s only two and a half, but she’s already doing a remarkable job of staying inside the lines. In a metaphorical sense, too. It’s a trait that she definitely didn’t inherit from her father, and the thought makes Benny chuckle.

“He texted all of us,” he explains quietly. “Says he has a job.”

You shake your head. “He didn’t text me.”

It hurts more than you think it should. It’s been three long years—why aren’t you able to move on? You had one night with him. You shouldn’t be this hung up over him.

But you didn’t have just one night with him. You had fifteen years with him. Fifteen years of loving him and dancing around the fact that he loved you too.

Or, you thought he did. But he comes back without so much as a word to you, and you’re running out of excuses to tell Lily why you’re so upset.

Four of the five come home. You sympathize with Tom’s family, but you can’t deny that you’re glad all of your boys made it back. You don’t know what you would do without them.

It’s well past Lily’s bedtime—well past your bedtime—when you hear a quiet knock on your front door. Years of proactive paranoia from being in the military tell you not to open your door, but then the late-night visitor knocks again.

Time seems to move slower when you open the door and see Santiago standing there, hands tucked into his pockets.

You’re not sure who moves first. One second you’re standing there in shocked silence, and then next his arms are wrapped so tightly around you that you can barely breath and you’re sobbing into his neck.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and even though he’s shivering in the cold night air he wouldn’t dream of pulling away from you or moving in any way. “I’m so sorry I left you, Tigerlily.”

You pull him inside when the chilly night breeze is too much to handle, telling him to settle on the couch while you put the kettle on the stove.

His heart shatters a little when he sees the toys and other pieces of evidence that you have a kid scattered around your living room. He tries to be happy that you’ve moved on, but it breaks his heart. You promised to wait for him, but maybe it was naive of him to believe you would. he can’t blame you. You deserve stability.

He clears his throat at least three times once you’re sat down in front of him, trying to find the words he wants to say. But what is there to say after so long saying absolutely nothing?

“You had... you have a kid?”

You let out a shuddering breath at his statement. You hadn’t even realized that it was so obvious—you’ve gotten used to the clutter that comes with having a child.

“Mhm.”

“That’s... that’s great. I’m happy for you.” He clears his throat again. “How old?”

“Two and a half.”

That burns. You moved on fast after promising him that you would wait, apparently.

“That’s... wow. W-what’s... what’s their name?”

You take a deep breath and close your eyes to fight back the tears that threaten to spill over. “Her name is Lily.”

It’s silent for a long time. Minutes pass as it settles and Santi puts two and two together.

“Sh-she... she wouldn’t happen to be... she isn’t...” He doesn’t know why he can’t say it. Why he can’t ask you for the answer to what’s becoming so apparent to him.

But you know what he’s asking. It doesn’t take a genius to know. “Yeah. She’s yours.”

Santi lets out a shuddering breath as he folds in half, arms propped up on his knees as he buries his face in his hands.

When he feels your gentle touch on his shoulder, a sob wracks through his body.

You pull him tightly into your chest as he falls apart, tears soaking your shirt and his voice mumbled in your chest.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Never would’ve left. I... oh, god.”

You hold him tightly as he cries, like he might slip away or evaporate into thin air if you loosen your grip at all.

And then you hear tiny footsteps in the hallway.

“Momma?”

Lily’s tiny little hands rub at her tired eyes, bottom lip trembling. Telltale symptoms of a nightmare.

Santi wants to start sobbing all over again when he sees her. She’s absolutely perfect in every way. She has your nose and skin tone but Santi’s eyes and hair and lips and if he had any doubt that he was a father, it’s gone the second he sees his little girl.

You open your arms to her and she immediately burrows into your chest, shyly peaking at Santi over your arm. 

“Momma?” Her little voice makes Santi’s eyes well with tears all over again.

“Yeah, baby?” Your voice is quiet, weak. Full of emotion and tears yet to be spilled.

“That daddy?”

The air catches in Santiago’s throat at her tiny question. You’ve told her about him. Clearly you’ve shown her lots of pictures if she recognizes him so readily.

You exhale shakily before you answer her. “Yeah, baby. That’s your daddy.”

She wiggles out of your embrace carefully, footsteps tentative until she stands right in front of Santiago. She’s so small, and Santi nearly sobs when one of her tiny palms comes to rest on his knee.

“Hi.”

He lets out a shaky breath and extends his hand to her. “Hi.”

She only hesitates for a moment before accepting his invitation and using his huge hand as leverage to crawl into his lap. 

A quiet sob wracks through his chest as Lily’s tiny arms wind around his neck, and she pulls back to look at him. Her little hands rest on his cheeks, her fingertips hardly the size of his tears. He can’t get over how small she is.

“Why cryin’, daddy?”

He buries his face in her hair as another sob forces its way out of his throat. “I’m just so happy to meet you, mi flor.”

Your daughter is a natural caretaker, just like her father—she refuses to go back to bed until she’s sure that Santi’s okay. When his tears finally cease, she takes his hand and reaches for yours and guides the both of you down the hall to her room.

Your heart swells with emotion as you watch Santiago tuck your daughter into bed for the very first time.

Still, her little eyes refuse to close. Now that she’s been in her father’s arms, she doesn’t want to go without them again. You know the feeling.

“You’ve gotta go to sleep, honey,” he whispers as he brushes her curls out of her face. “It’s important for little girls to get lots of rest so they can grow up big and strong. I’ll be here in the morning when you wake up, okay? Lo prometo.”

“Mommy?” She calls to you, peeking around her father to see you leaning in the doorway.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Promise daddy will stay?”

Your breath catches in your throat for the umpteenth time that night. You want to promise her he’ll stay. You want to believe that he was being honest when he left—when he told you that it would be his last job.

You catch his dark eyes, and he doesn’t hesitate to nod at you. This time, it’s the truth. He wouldn’t dream of leaving again now.

“I promise, baby,” you tell her as calmly as you can, even though you feel like jumping for joy. “Daddy’s staying.”

Santi collapses into your arms again the second Lily’s bedside light is turned off and the door is closed behind the two of you.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps. He knows the words mean too little, too late, but he’ll never stop saying them. “I’m so sorry, baby. I shouldn’t have gone. I’m sorry.”

You brush your fingers through his hair as you gently lead him down the hall to your bedroom. “I know.” You know he’s telling the truth—you know he never would’ve left you alone like he did if he had known about your little girl.

“Do you remember what you told me? Do you remember the note you left?” You ask softly as you tug him under the covers. He just nods as he curls into you. “You told me to wait for you. And I did. I waited for you.”

You fall asleep in Santi’s arms for only the second time in your life. This time when you wake up, though, they’re still firmly wrapped around you.

THE END

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