#ironhead angst

[pimosworld]

Unrequited

Pairing-Santiago Garcia x f!reader x Frankie Morales

Series Summary-Francisco was always afraid of settling down. He left Santiago to pick up the pieces after Colombia and now someone else is taking his place. Now he must cope with repairing the past without disrupting his future.

CW-18+,MDNI,Angst, Fluff, hurt/comfort, Frankie has a lot of apologies to hand out, lots of food references, fun game of poker and a revelation, more apologies and a proposition.

WC-5.9k

A/N- Happy Frankie Friday, our boy is still going through it a bit but that’s to be expected when you ghost your friends for three years. At least he has Benny for some comedic relief.

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

Chapter II Pining

  verb

gerund or present participle: pining

suffer a mental and physical decline, especially because of a broken heart.

  You stretch your sore muscles as best you can with the human weight that is Santiago pressed against you, his arm holding you close even in sleep. You knew he was getting better and that he was starting to get over it but Frankie’s sudden appearance is causing a relapse in his behavior. 

  The mornings you got out of bed before him or took too long to tell him you were running late from work would be met with his frantic state of mind. Always afraid of being abandoned again, left without a word or goodbye. You assured him as much as you could that you would never do something like that. Months of convincing him to go to counseling was met with short words and utterings of I don’t have a problem. It wasn’t until he’d awoken to you crying and scared one night that he was yelling in his sleep that you were going to leave him that he finally caved and went. 

  Therapy helped tremendously but you can’t blame him after the harsh words that were spoken last night that he thinks you couldn’t hear. Venomous words spoken between ex lovers, hurt people hurt people. 

  So you lay here a little longer, waiting for him to stir awake so he doesn’t think you left him. You rub your legs together easing the sore ache from the previous night, trying to ignore your full bladder. 

  You can feel his lips on the back of your neck, slowly making their way down leaving goosebumps in their wake.

  “Good morning baby, how’d you sleep?” He doesn’t answer with words, just hums as he grinds his hips into you. Avoiding the question that you already know the answer to. His hand slides over your stomach, dipping lower before you gently grab his wrist pulling it to your lips as you turn to face him. “As much as I would love to do that again, I really need to pee.”

  “Why didn’t you get up?” His sleepy voice cracks a little as he dips his head to kiss your neck. Your nails scratch at his scalp as you card through his salt and pepper curls. You tug on them eliciting a groan from him as he meets your eyes. You trace your thumb along the stubble of his jaw, memorizing every line and scar that you may have missed the last time you looked at him. He’s so distractingly handsome that you almost forgot he asked you a question. One that he already knows the answer to. 

  “I wanted to wait until you were awake.” You give him a wary smile almost ashamed to admit it, not wanting him to feel bad. 

  His face drops and he wraps his arms around you, rolling you on top of him until you’re almost falling out of the bed, forced to plant your feet on the cold hardwood floor. He whistles low as you pad to the bathroom, trying not to feel flustered knowing he’s checking you out. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been, he always makes you feel giddy. 

  When you exit the bathroom he’s propped up on one elbow holding the blanket up so you can join him in the warm confines of your bed. He shudders as your cold hands roam up his toned chest and wrap around his neck. 

  “You can’t be getting a uti because you’re afraid to wake me up cariño.” He half mumbles into your hair. 

  You sigh deeply. “I know…I just didn’t want you to wake up and not find me there.” 

  He kisses your forehead lingering briefly before speaking. “I know you’re worried about me with Frankie being here but I promise I’m okay.” He even thinks he sounds unsure of himself as he says it. 

  “I know you’re not okay and that’s fine, you just have to remember you’re not doing this alone.” 

  You’re an enigma, he thinks. How you manage to find the good in all situations. You’re the glass half full to his half empty. He was surviving before he met you and that was fine but he can’t go back to just surviving now that he knows what it’s like to be thriving. 

  “What did I do to deserve you?” He slides his hands up your back massaging and kneading the stress out of you. 

  “Mmmm…you’ve had your fair share of things you did to deserve being taken care of.” His stomach grumbles and you both chuckle. “Speaking of that…do you want me to make breakfast?” 

  “If I ever say no to your food I want you to shoot me.” 

  ****

  Frankie didn’t want to get out of bed, the exhaustion had fully settled in and he quickly realized how long it’s been since he actually rested. Constantly trying to stay busy to keep from actually feeling something. The conversation with Santiago had gone in the complete opposite direction he had hoped but he only had himself to blame. He didn’t expect to just waltz back into his life like nothing had happened but you being here was an unexpected surprise and most certainly changed his approach. 

  He’d never slept in the guest room so it went unnoticed at how beautiful the morning sun looked peaking through the curtains. The orange Santiago had insisted on painting one accent wall compliments it perfectly. It wasn’t until they bought this house that Frankie realized how much Santi cared about interior design. He wanted to tease him about it but opted not to when he saw how relaxed he was deciding on paint colors and furniture. 

  It’s an odd feeling washing over him as the smell of butter and cinnamon infiltrates his senses. It’s been too long since he’s awoken to the smell of anything other than stale cigarettes and last night's leftovers. He’s kicking the blankets off before he can register and rummaging through his bag for a pair of sweats. He can hear some soft singing coming from the kitchen as he makes his way down the hall. The smell is getting stronger as his stomach rumbles and Santiago comes into view, leaning back in the chair at the kitchen island as he not so subtly watches you retrieve the mystery item from the oven. 

  The man was always a perv when it came to checking him out and it seems nothing has changed. He can’t really blame him as he takes in your appearance. Another one of Santiago’s shirts adorning your frame and some of the shortest shorts he’s ever seen just barely covering your ass. 

  “Nice of you to join us.” Santi’s arms are crossed with a slight smirk at catching Frankie ogling you. 

  “Morning Francisco!” You’re beaming as you wipe your hands on a spare towel and begin to plate what he now sees to be biscuits. “I hope you’re hungry, I made cheddar honey biscuits, bacon and I’m about to start the eggs.” As if you couldn’t get any more perfect. 

  Santi gestures to the seat next to him and Frankie pulls out the chair, starting to feel a little less like a guest in his own home. 

  “How do you take your eggs?” 

  “Over medium” “Over medium” 

  If the tandem answer bothers you, you don’t show it as you expertly crack an egg into a bowl on the side of the stove and one into the pan. Santi adjusts next to him, seemingly a little flustered attempting to ignore his slip up. 

  “You don’t have to make-“ 

  “Don’t be a martyr over eggs.” Santi cuts him off before he can finish and you turn, giving him a stern look before whisking the mixture in the bowl. 

  “At least he doesn’t eat them scrambled like a child.” You mutter under your breath and Frankie tries to hide his smile behind his hands as Santi flips him off. 

  “I heard that chiquita.” He teases and you shrug as you plate up the rest of Frankie’s food. Retrieving the bacon from the warm oven and setting two hefty biscuits next to it. 

  Frankie stares at the plate, much like he did last night and he doesn’t even know where to begin. That’s a lie actually, he knows as he dives into the biscuit without another word. The buttery flaky crust with a hint of something sweet hits his senses and he can’t help the moan that escapes him. 

  He can see your shoulders moving as you laugh and he doesn’t even care with how good this is. Your food is a religious experience that only a chosen few should get to enjoy. As he glances over at Santi eating in silence a tinge of jealousy sparks in him that he gets to indulge in this all the time. You,this food,this life. For now Frankie has to live with the choices he made. 

  “Don’t be shy Frankie there’s plenty more.” You politely cover your mouth while you eat your breakfast and somehow finish cleaning the mess in a matter of minutes. 

  Frankie leans back in his chair rubbing his belly unashamed. Santi glances over noticing the way he looks so content and a slight gleam in his eye. “So does this guy do anything around here?” 

  Santi stands from his chair gathering both of their plates. “I provide other services.” He kisses you on the cheek as you playfully swat at him. “I also wash the dishes.” 

  “You own a dishwasher.” 

  “Frankie I don’t make the rules, I just do what the lady asks.” Of course Santiago doesn’t notice that this is the first time he’s used his name, not his government name or his call sign or the dreaded name he gets when people are mad at him but his chosen name. Frankie watches you both as you exchange subtle glances, some unspoken language between the two of you that he used to understand but it’s been too long. 

  Without words Santi is grabbing things from the fridge and setting them out on the counter for you as you retrieve some bowls from the cabinet. You’re filling a large pot with water as Santi returns to his seat at the island having fulfilled his duties of making piles of unfinished ingredients on the table. 

  “How much time do I have?” 

  “We don’t have to be at Wills until one so don’t rush cariño.” Santi says as Frankie gives him a quizzical look. “Barbecue…you’re going.” 

  Frankie tries to school the expression on his face into a neutral one as his stomach drops. He knew he needed to talk to all of them eventually, but he didn’t anticipate it being his second day back. He knows he can’t avoid the conversation forever and the sooner he rips the band aid the better. There’s too much weighing on his shoulders that he needs to get off so they can all live better lives. At least Frankie hopes after he talks to them that they are appreciative and see all he’s done to get back in their good graces. 

  “If I don’t make this pasta salad Benny will kill me.” He realizes after a moment that you’re speaking to him and he can’t wipe this dumb look off his face. 

  “Well if it’s anything like I’ve had already I can see why he’s obsessed.” You smile up at him as you chop some bell peppers with perfect precision. He’s not sure how you’ve not cut yourself as he looks from your eyes to the cutting board, but it’s almost reminiscent of how he feels when he’s flying; effortless.

  Frankie finally breaks your gaze as you turn around to pour the pasta in the boiling water. Santi’s eyes bore into him as he leans back in his chair with his arms crossed. Santiago was never good at subtlety, especially when it came to his outward appearance. If he had to title this one it would read if you keep flirting with her I’ll smother you with a pillow. 

  ****

  The three of you are in Santi’s Jeep on the way to Will's house. You insisted after going back and forth with Frankie to the point of awkwardness that he sit in front. You hilariously and completely ended the argument when you sat in the back and shrugged your shoulders knowing Santi would riot if he was made out to be some chauffeur with you both in the back. 

  The car smells divine…you managed to make two types of salad, some cupcakes and those cookies he can’t stop thinking about. Frankie’s recently caught wondering how Santi is still in such good shape with the way you cook. He watches the way his muscles strain against the black tee shirt as he shifts gears. The way his jeans fit his thighs just right as he-

  “Something on your mind Fish?” He’s been caught this time and it certainly won’t be the last time. 

  Frankie’s eyes meet yours in the rearview mirror. “Nothing…Just wondering how you still have a waistline when you live with Julia Child.” 

  You laugh and bite down on your lip to stop it from bubbling over in full blown hysterics. Frankie looks away but you don’t miss the way he smiles as his tongue pokes out from between his teeth. 

  Frankie stares out the window, something blooming in his stomach at the way he made you laugh again. It’s infectious and at this point he doesn’t even care…he knows full well that if he looks to his left he’ll see the second chapter of Santi’s death glare titled keep it up and I’ll crash this car. 

  ****

  It’s not a far drive to Will's house, but there was no way they were walking in the Florida heat with all this food in tow. Frankie swallows hard as Santi makes the last turn down their street. He has seen this house many times, it still sits beautifully at the end of the block nestled among two live oak trees in the front yard. The most unique house on the block and the largest backyard. He helped Benny and Will look for it so they could all be close to each other. The plan fell into place just before they left for Colombia. They closed on the house one month before leaving and for that Frankie is relieved to see all was not lost in that jungle. 

  He rubs his clammy hands along his jeans as Santi parks the car in the long driveway. He waits for a moment as you both exit the car to gather the supplies. He wants to get in the driver's seat and head home or maybe just get out and walk straight to the airport. Anything to avoid the possible rejection he faces when he walks into Wills backyard to see his best friends brothers again.

  The passenger side door is opened for him and you’re standing there expectantly with your hand out. “He said you might need some help.” 

  It feels childish and yet he needs it all the same as he takes your hand in his and steps out of the Jeep. It’s so small in his as you lace your fingers and pull him to the front door instead of the side gate to spare him a brief moment to gather his thoughts. He lets you lead as he tries not to step on your feet that need a few more strides than him as you approach the large wooden door. 

  The house is pristine and cozy on the inside as you enter. Santiago’s in the open concept kitchen putting away all the goods you made as Frankie looks around for anyone else. You squeeze his hand once before letting go to join him in the kitchen. 

  “Ben already took the pasta salad so that’s as good as gone.” Santiago says as he cracks open a beer and hands it to Frankie. Anything to take the edge off. 

  “I’m gonna go find Emma babe.” You kiss Santi on the cheek as you exit the kitchen leaving the two men alone. 

  Frankie’s eyes go wide as you shriek from the patio and Santi laughs. “Put me down Ben!” 

  Bennys voice is carried away with the sound of the music over the outside speakers. “Not a chance sweetheart.” 

  Santi nods to Frankie as he takes a huge swig of his beer. “Let’s head outside before she kills him.” 

  ****

  “Nice to finally meet you Frankie.” Will’s wife Emma is just as he pictured. Tall brunette with perfect hair and an even more perfect smile. She’s been kind enough to show him around the house and the yard as a means of distraction from the not so warm welcome he got from Will. 

  “It’s nice to meet you too.” He sounds like a kid that just got scolded for stealing as he removes his hat and scrubs his fingers through his hair. Emma’s showing him the room Benny is in. He spent what little money he had to open his own gym so they’re graciously letting him stay to save some money. Frankie feels particularly guilty about that right now but soon that will change. 

  “The office will hopefully be a nursery soon.” She turns to him offering a genuine smile. “Then we’ll have a live-in babysitter.” 

  “I’m hoping you don’t mean Benny.” Frankie chides as she throws her head back and laughs. 

  “He’s not all that bad and he could do with some practice.” Emma motions with her hands as she finishes the tour and Frankie feels like he’s having some sort of out of body experience. Walking through the home that he helped pick out so that Will could start a family. Everyone was doing exactly what they set out to do and Frankie was just…idling. 

  “Frankie?” She’s staring at him now, nearly eye to eye with him as she places her hand gently on his elbow so as not to startle him. He supposed she’s used to dealing with spooked vets by now. It’s almost like approaching a caged animal. “He’ll come around…I know he loves you, he just needs some time.” 

  Frankie’s too embarrassed to ask if she means Santi or Will so he just nods and says ‘thank you’. 

  ****

  Frankie’s on his second helping of pasta salad as he sits at a table with the guys and some of Benny's friends from the gym listening to Santi drone on about his security consulting business. Of course Santiago found a way to travel around telling other people how to do their job. 

  Frankie looks up from his plate to see Will staring daggers at him. He’s a coward to look away but he’s not ready to face that scrutiny. It’s not much better as his line of vision drifts to you and Emma laying out by the pool talking and laughing. The sun is beating down on his neck as a bead of sweat trickles down his spine. You roll to your front on the lounger and untie the strings of your top. The white bikini already left little to the imagination and now he can just barely see the soft curve of your breast as you adjust to get comfortable. 

  “They’re perfect aren’t they. ” Frankie nearly jumps out of his skin at the sound of Ben’s voice in his ear. 

  “What?!” 

  “Emma and Will…I saw her giving you a tour earlier.” Ben winks at him as he steals a bite from Frankie’s plate. Frankie starts to speak but Ben cuts him off and leans in closer. “I know everyone has already given you enough shit so I’m not going to. I just hope you’re here to stay.” 

  “I am.” Frankie says it a little louder than he intended and he can feel Will and Santi’s eyes on him. The mindless chatter amongst the table has continued but the four of them are waiting on a limb as Frankie realizes this is the first time he’s actually said it. “I’m making plans to stay.” 

  Santi raises his eyebrows in surprise as Will finally speaks. “You gonna find a flying gig?” 

  Frankie doesn’t really need to work but he supposes he’ll go crazy if he doesn’t find something to occupy his mind. “I don’t know yet but I’ve got some money saved until I figure it out.” He takes a sip of his beer to disguise the little white lie. 

  Ben slaps him on the back and he splutters his beer. “You can come help me at the gym.” Ben’s shadow boxing him as he tries to clear his throat. “Let’s see if this old man can still spar with the great Benjamin Miller.” His friends at the table roll their eyes along with the rest at his large ego. 

  Frankie points the butt of his empty bottle at the younger man. “Ben, I can still kick your ass.” 

  “Is that so?” 

  Frankie nods slowly. 

  “I don’t think he can climb a flight of fucking stairs.” Will's voice cuts in and the table goes silent. There’s a slight smirk on his face as Benny erupts in laughter next to him. Santi drops his head to the table as the rest of the men join in and for a fleeting moment it all feels like it used to. 

  ****

  The parties died down a bit and it’s just the guys left while you and Emma say your goodbyes. The boys are staying for poker and that will give Frankie the perfect opportunity to talk to them. He’s not sure how much longer he could hold it in. 

  “Are you sure you’ll be fine walking home?” You approach Santi and the guys around the kitchen island.

  “They’ll both survive.” Will answers for him as he finishes the dishes in the sink. 

  “Cariño please don’t wait up for me this time.” Santi says through gritted teeth as he pulls you into a hug, kissing you on the cheek. Ben steps up behind him making mock kissing gestures and Will grabs him by the collar dragging him off to the garage. 

  Frankie awkwardly starts to walk away and leave you two alone when you call out to him. 

  “Francisco Morales…make sure he doesn’t gamble all his money away.” It’s said in jest as you gather your things to leave. 

  “I’ll do my best, hermosa but I make no promises.” 

  Frankie’s sure you don’t notice the slip up as you wave them goodbye and exit the front door. Heat creeps up his neck and he doesn’t even want to look Santi in the eyes. 

  “Hermosa hmmm?” Santi nods his head toward the garage door and steps beside him. “I see you still get flustered when beautiful people use your full name.” 

  Frankie follows closely behind as he breathes out through his nose. 

  This was going to be a very long night. 

  ****

  They’ve got him all wrong. 

  What started out as a fun game of poker quickly became a tense game of figuring out what Frankie’s play was. They’ve wrongly mistaken his nervous face for a poker face and everyone keeps folding. 

  Just spit it out 

  Frankie’s sitting here in Will's converted three car garage. Half of it was a shop to work on his motorcycle and whatever project his mind needed to keep him occupied. The other half is almost an exact replica of their favorite bar, all the way down to the teak wood flooring and an old school saloon type dresser with a roll top bar in front. He’s been trying to admire all the work he’s put in. The pool table and matching poker table just add to the charm. 

  You’re stalling

  “Fish, what’s your move?” Santiago’s voice is dripping with annoyance as Will stares down his cards like they’re going to change suits right in front of him. 

  He stares down at his hand and the pile of chips in front of him. He actually has a good hand this time, three of a kind and pocket aces. 

  It’s not about the money

  “All in.” He pushes his chips in the middle while Santi and Will quickly follow suit. Benny scoffs from behind the bar as he pours himself another beer having lost all his chips ages ago. 

  “You losers are gonna fall for it again?” 

  “Who are you calling a loser?” Will chides the younger man as Santi laughs behind his cards. 

  “I can read this pendejo like a book…he doesn’t have shit.” Santi says the last part playfully but the first part used to ring true. 

  Frankie lays down his cards and Will curses under his breath and throws his face down. Bennys laughing to himself over in the corner but Santiago’s grin is deepening by the second. It takes more muscles to frown, which is why he thinks Santi has such strong features. When he smiles though…it almost knocks him off his feet. 

  A trickle of sweat runs down Frankie’s back as Will raises an eyebrow at Santi. He leans back in his chair crossing his arms. “Let’s see ‘em Pope.” 

  Money,Money,Money

  Ten,Jack,Queen,King,Ace. Each flick of his wrist and the sound of the cards on the table as Santiago draws out his torture echo in the room. He leans in dramatically, dragging all the chips to sit in front of him. The sound of Benny whooping behind him and Will’s slow clap is drowned out by the ringing in his ears as he stares at the Royal Flush in the suit of hearts. Okay karma,you made your point. 

  “I went back for the money.” 

  He knew there was no right way to drop this kind of bomb on them. Judging by the silence in the room, perhaps there was a wrong way. 

  It’s so quiet you can hear the rustling of the chips settled in front of Santi falling by the wayside. 

Will locks eyes with Frankie as he leans back in his chair. The weight of what he just said hits him like a ton of bricks.

  “So we’re rich.” Ben’s voice cuts through the silence as he pours himself another drink. 

  “Ben, are you kidding me!” Will goes to stand as Santi lays a gentle hand on him urging him backwards. 

  As crass as it may sound coming out of the younger man’s mouth he couldn’t hide from it anymore. “Ya Ben, we’re rich.” 

  “Why?” Santi sounds calmer than he would’ve imagined after being silent for so long. He expected a fight from him, yelling and cursing. Frankie’s brain is doing somersaults trying to keep up with his emotions. Did he want Santi to yell? To tell him he was wrong for putting his life in danger. 

  Maybe there’s some weird fucked of part of Frankie that wants to be treated like a martyr so he can justify all the shit he’s put them through these last few years. Or maybe it’s just hard for him to realize that Santi was capable of changing for the right person. 

  “I did it for you…for us.” Frankie corrects although he’s not sure why. He could be nothing but honest in front of the men he risked his life for.

  Santi huffs a laugh as he shifts in his seat to look at Frankie. He picks up a stray chip rolling it on top of his fingers, some nervous tick he picked up during their army days. “You sure you didn’t do it for you.” There he is. 

  “What the fucks that suppposed to mean.” Frankie bites out ready for a fight. The fight he’s wanted since he landed here, back home. 

  “You’re gonna tell me that you didn’t go on some suicide mission without telling us…” He takes a moment to calm his breathing and lower his voice. “You did this so you could come back with something. To show us that you didn’t just leave everything for no reason. That you didn’t walk away from the best thing in your life because you got scared.” He tosses the chip and it lands in front of Frankie as Ben whistles low under his breath. 

  Santiago always had a way with words. He could rally the team when they were feeling down or nervous about a mission. He could convince higher ups to do things for him and make it seem like it was their idea to begin with. He could charm the pants off anyone he laid his sights to for one night or wax poetic to the love of his life. 

  He could also make his words cut like a knife. Those same words could make any bullet Frankie’s ever taken feel like a bee sting in comparison. If Frankie wanted him to see that he’s changed he was going to half to meet him more than half way. He’s wounded and hurt, absolutely incapable of seeing anything besides what he’s been through the last three years. 

  “You’re right.” Foreign words leave his lips not often spoken to the man with the ego the size of Texas. Frankie scrubs his jaw, kneading his fingers in that spot of patchy beard. “You’re right Santiago, I didn’t want to come back empty handed with nothing to show for myself. I felt like a failure after Colombia.” 

  “We all did.” Will cuts in as he slaps his hand down on the table. Loose chips falling to the floor. 

  Frankie lets out a long sigh. “I know man…I don’t mean.” Frankie underestimated how much damage he had done. Not just to Santi but to everyone. “I’m sorry. This was the only way I knew how to apologize, even if it comes off wrong I don’t regret one second of it. We all deserve this money and you know that.” He points at Will before continuing. “You can be mad at me all you want, I'm not running this time. I’m gonna stay and fix this even if it takes me the rest of my life.” 

  Santi stands abruptly, saluting Ben and squeezing Will's shoulder as he exits the garage. 

  Will slides the small notepad for scratch paper towards him, scribbling down some numbers. He clicks the pen and tosses the notepad to Frankie as he stands from the poker table. “I suppose this is my fault.” 

  Frankie tilts his head in question. 

  “I gave those coordinates to Pope.” He clicks his tongue as he rests his hands on the table next to him, eyes drawing up in mischief. “But he told me he lost them.” 

  Frankie stares down at a long list of numbers. “What’s this?”

  “My banking info.” Will looks at him then a little more tired behind the eyes than he’s ever seen. “I love you Fish, he loves you too.” Will slaps him on the back and exits the garage leaving Frankie with the younger Miller. 

  Frankie doesn’t turn around but he can picture Ben behind him. “Goodnight Ben, my favorite and only brother in the world. I love you soooo much.” He’s definitely miming with his hands. “Goodnight Will, even though you’re a pain in my ass I wouldn’t know what to do without you.”

  Frankie laughs a little bit. It's short lived as a cold piece of ice hits the back of his neck running down his shirt right into the open crack of his jeans. 

  “What the fuck Ben!” Frankie turns in his seat to see him crunching on some ice. He narrowly misses another piece thrown at his head. 

  “I want my money by tomorrow.” He does his worst impression of a mobster as he leaves Frankie alone in the garage. 

  ****

  Santi sits on the curb in front of Will’s house as he hangs his head in his hands. Thankfully for him it’s a decently cool night compared to the awful humidity he’s usually subjected too. He often wonders why they all settled here instead of somewhere off the grid. It’s comforting in a sense, it feels like home. 

  It’s tearing him up inside holding onto all this anger for Frankie when he really just wants to tell him he loves him. He thought he would feel better after getting it all out, finally laying down his cards so to speak. It brewed somewhere underneath for all those years and as cathartic as it was to say it out loud it didn’t change what happened. 

  Now he’s left seemingly with everything he could possibly want and he feels numb. 

  Santi hears the front door close softly behind him as Frankie makes his way down the path. He doesn’t want to argue anymore, he just wants to let this all go and finally live a peaceful life with enough money to make sure he’ll never have to sweat again. 

  “I don’t want to fight with you anymore.” He looks up to Frankie holding out his hand to help him off the curb. “Please forgive me.” His soft brown eyes look down at him. The ones he could never resist even if he tried. 

  He accepts his hand as he hoists him off the ground dusting off his jeans. “I forgave you a long time ago Fish.I had to for my own sanctity.” 

  If it’s a misstep he doesn’t correct himself. Sanity or sanctity aside, he knows hating someone for that long will eat you alive. “I would not be capable of loving her the way that I do, if I had not forgiven you.” 

  “Do you still love me?” Frankie asks, as selfish as it may be. Not entirely sure of what answer he’s expecting. 

  He’s backlit by the street lamps creating a soft halo around his brown and graying curls. Santiago has pictured them doing this walk so many times in his dreams. Moving here to start a life with him, walking home after a long day of hanging out with their brothers to head home and curl up in the soft sheets of the master bedroom. 

  “I never stopped loving you.” Frankie takes his hand then and he doesn’t pull away. “I never could even if I tried.” 

  Santi’s trying not to get choked up as he stares at their hands. Frankie grips his chin tilting it up towards him but he abruptly pulls away. 

  “I thought you said-“

  “I know what I said. I love you.” He gestures between them. “But this…can’t happen without her.” 

  Frankie’s nostrils flare as he gives him an aporetic look. 

  “Don’t give me that shit Frankie, I see the way you look at her.” 

  “Looking isn’t illegal.” His possessiveness over someone that doesn’t belong to him comes out harsher than he intended. 

  “No you’re right it’s not, but you can’t have your cake and eat it too.” Santi spits back at him as he glances over at the house that’s no longer Will’s. “Let’s keep moving.” 

  Santi gets two steps ahead before Frankie yanks his arm back bringing him face to face. Daring him to call his bluff. 

  “Isn’t that what you’re telling me…that I can have my cake and eat it too.” His body’s pressed against his, they’re so close he can breathe his air as he practically spits fire. 

  “Yes Francisco, that’s what I’m telling you.” He gently prys Frankie’s hand from his arm putting some space between them. “But I’m not doing it behind her back.” 

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[penvisions]

the melting point {chapter 16}

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Baker! Reader (ex EMT! Reader)

Summary: In the aftermath of a rather eventful and terrifying last summer farmer's market, you try to find a semblance of normalcy as best you can. Meanwhile, Frankie is up to something that is beginning to cause you to worry about the burden you've become in your recovery.

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: medical jargon, mild language, emotional monologues, internal monologue, negative feelings, negative thoughts, ptsd symptoms, pining, emotional pining, depressive thoughts, description of pain and injuries, blood, descriptions of post shooting chaos, panic attacks, notions of death, hospital setting, mentions of needles and iv's, mentions of narcotics, use of prescription narcotics, feelings of inadequacy, angst

A/N: um, so it's been four months since i've touched this fic, then i woke up yesterday morning and just began writing like nothing. takes breaks when you need to, don't force things and it'll all work out. please let me know what y'all think!

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

“C’mon, hang on for me baby, please, don’t-don’t close your eyes.”

“Mantequilla, everything is gonna be okay, I promise, we’re all here for you, please know that everything is going to be okay.”

“We’ve got you, you did so good, you saved my little girl, you did, you saved her.”

“Honey, we all love you so much, please stay strong, I’ll hold your hand the entire way there.”

“Let’s get you turned over, ma’am, c’mon. There we go, you’re doing amazing.”

“Santi, she-she-“

“Papa!! Papa, please help her, I love her! Tio Santi, do something!!”

“Merde, that’s so much blood, Frankie you’ve gotta focus, you’ve gotta calm her down. Get her home safe, to your mother’s, somewhere safe.”

“Will!! They got her, call Morgan! She went missing the second things got crazy.”

“Has anyone seen Benny?”

“They’re transporting her now, rushing her to surgery the second the get there.”

“She’s lost a lot of blood, any donations with the same blood type would be appreciated. Who here is a positive?”

“Sweet girl, please, you’ve got to pull through, I know you can do it. You’re so strong.”

“No response, it’s been how many days now?”

“She’s being rushed into another surgery, she keeps clotting. They can’t figure out why.”

“Fransico Morales? You’re next of kin?”

“No, no, but we’re all she has. Her family is flying out, they’ll be here in a few hours.”

“Taylor, take a moment, it’s…it’s a lot to take in.”

“Daddy, why is tia all tangled in those machines, she’s going to be okay, right?”

“This is my son, he wanted to come and cheer her up because she always did the same for him when he was sick.”

“Please, mi amor, please, you have to make it. I don’t know what I’d do without you.

Fractered memories played over each other, words echoing and bouncing off of each other through the fog that was all you knew. You couldn’t feel anything, all of your senses stripped away, and you were nothing more than a half-conscious mind tunneling in and out of suspended darkness.

Beeping, an even beeping was the only steady thing you could make out. Sense of environment completely gone and sense of awareness slowly trickling in. Your eyes hurt as you slowly blinked them open, the faint lights around you too bright and you clenched them shut with a huff that pulled at your lungs. The stillness of where you were was shattered as the clattering of a chair sounded, followed by a pair of hands tightening around yours that were settled over your middle. A hushed order to go fetch someone and then a deep voice was rumbling close. You turned your head toward the presence hovering close to your left side, drawn to whoever it was.

“Hey, hey, take it easy, sweet girl.”

A grunt sounded from deep in your chest as you tried to open your mouth and respond. Then a gasp when pain reverberated from the same spot. You tried to shift your legs, hips feeling oddly numb but you couldn’t quite feel them. It was as if they were asleep, but… you cracked your eyes open a second time, squinting down the length of the bed you were in. Your legs were there, obvious underneath the thin, knit, scratchy blankets that only a hospital possessed. You tried to shift again, but even your hips didn’t feel like a part of your body. Your eyes flew open completely, tearing up at the brightness of the room.

Shuddering breaths pulled deep hurt, but you tried to shift again and again but there was no movement underneath the blanket. None.

“Okay, alright, querida, please. Take a deep breath, it’s-it’s gonna be okay.” Frankie. It had been Frankie speaking to you, close to you. His hands reached out for your own, where you had pried them from him to try and prop yourself up, wires and tubes pulling, clattering against each other and making your head swim. “The doctors-“

“I know this must be quite a shock, but it’s good that you’re awake!” A white coat, thrown over a modest skirt and blouse, blonde hair. A kind face, pinched. A furrowed brow. Bad news on the tip of her tongue.

You tried to speak, demand why you couldn’t feel anything below your waist. But you could only croak out the faintest notions of words. Everything was a blur, the hospital room you were in a mess of blue and white, the beeping of machines hurting your ears. Nothing made any sense, confusion coloring every thought as to how you got here and why.

“Let’s get you some water and food first, your body is pretty weak right now. Can I get a level two meal delivered to room thirteen eighty-nine, please?” She turned to address someone who had been hidden behind her, a nurse in teal scrubs.

“Tell me.” You managed to croak out, eyes fixated on her pinched ones.

“I would really prefer to get you a little acclimated.”

“No.”

Her eyes flickered toward Frankie, as if in a silent plea to get him to calm you down and put you at ease however little he could manage. But you ignored the warm weight of his hand on your shoulder, eyes trained on the doctor in front of you as you tried to find more strength to speak around the dry cotton feel of your mouth, the panging hunger that was present in your stomach, the lack of control over your body.

She sighed, arms holding the clipboard in front her in an imitation of a fig leave over her hips.

“We had you in a medically induced coma for the last two weeks. I’m not sure all of what you remember, the brain is fickle that way, pushing things and events out in response to trauma.” She didn’t look from you as the sound of fast steps approached the door, nor when a large figure moved passed her and came straight to your right side. It was Taylor. Both of the most important men in your life on your sides. He was quiet, but you could see the evidence of tears in the puffiness of his eyes, the lack of a smile on his face as he hovered close.

“You were hit in the sacrum and coccyx region, paralyzing you from the waist down. We performed three surgeries to remove the bullet shards and repair as much of the damage as possible. Your blood flow and reflex reactions have improved but we had no way of knowing if anything truly worked until you woke. A week has passed since we stopped inducing you, we were beginning to think you might not wake up.”

The rest of the conversation was a blur, medical terms floating heavy in the air of the room. Daunting, terrifying, life altering. You didn’t think you could handle another life altering event of this caliber. But it didn’t look like you had to traverse it alone. You teared up once the doctor left the room, offering to come back and talk to you once visiting hours were over, though she had mildly glared at both men as she said it. But knowing them both, they had been alternating staying the night to watch over you past the set hours that allowed for them to be present.

You had two wonderful men who were willing to do anything for you, one with a friend group who would follow his lead and the other who had given you so much already. You hoped it wouldn’t be too much, taking what they were willing to give.

“It’s a lot,” Taylor’s voice broke, his words spoken through eyes glittering with tears. His hands tight around yours as he leaned his forehead against yours, completely in your personal space. “But we’ve done somethin’ like this before and we can do it again. We can do it again.”

You could only nod, throat and voice still weak from weeks of disuse.

He walked closer to the side of the bed, the man’s large build shadowing over you in the dimmer setting of the lights you had requested. The full effect of them too bright for you eyes after being unconscious for so long. You reached out to him, urging him to sit atop it as best he could as you all but threw yourself at him. He let you, aware of Frankie standing close to the other side, eyes watering as he heard the cries that began to bubble up from you.

“I-I-“

“Shh, it’s okay, I’m here. We’re both here.” Taylor murmured, as he wrapped his own arms around you to pull you close. He smelled like your apartment, a mix of faint buttercream and the rose perfume you favored all rolled into one comforting scent. His own masked by the time he had been in town. “Alfred was here too, but he had to be taken back for school. He sat with you every day for that first week and read to you. He was so worried about you, mami. He kept talking with you like he always does, hoping you would wake up and respond.”

Frankie excused himself, his phone beeping in his pocket and the sound of you crying too much for him to handle all at once. You watched him leave the room, his shadow visible through the blinds in the window looking into the room as he paced up and down the hallway just outside. His voice a low murmur as he spoke with whoever had been trying to contact him.

“I didn’t mean to scare him…or you. I’m so sorry, that call – it must’ve been so terrifying.” You hiccupped into his chest, unable to stop the tears and emotions from flowing all at once, overwhelmed and completely at a loss of how to respond to anything at the moment.

Hushed words eradicated any ill thoughts you were having of yourself, comforting in their genuine indication. He assured you he had been able to handle it, that he was able to handle the hard things that came along with being bonded with someone for life, for knowing someone for so long. For having already done something similar before. But yeah, that it had been scary but Frankie had been as detailed and direct as he needed to be, levelheaded in his description of what had happened and what immediately happened afterwards.

Frankie came up to you both as he entered back into the room, a hand on both your shoulders to get your equal attention. You looked up at him with watery eyes, feeling so proud of how everyone was trying to keep it together for you but guilty at the same time since it had been something they had been dealing with for weeks now.

“That was the airline, they need someone to come in and take over a few tours for double pay. I wouldn’t normally turn them down and I will if you need me here. You’re awake now and I want to be here with you.”

“Y-you should go, if you want to, if you need to.” Scratchy words spoken with what little conviction you could muster. He was conflicted, worried about making the wrong decision.

“You need me here.” He didn’t argue so much as read the thoughts in your mind as clearly as if you had displayed for him to see. “You want me here.”

“Yes, but….money is money, Frankie. For your house, for your daughter, for everything. I’ll be okay, I promise.”

“I’m gonna run and get a coffee before you head out, I’ll stay the night, okay?” Taylor announced before he pressed a kiss to your temple and stood. Leaving you and Frankie truly alone for the first time since you woke up. You reached out to the man, gripping his open flannel shirt and lightly pulling him toward you. But he didn’t budge, his feet stable on the ground and his back not leaning to meet you. He wasn’t looking quite at you, but just beyond you. His eyes a little distant.

“I’m sorry.” Pulling your hands back to rest in your lap, you began to twiddle your fingers, unsure of what to do, unsure of why he was acting so weird and distant. Maybe he was just exhausted, mentally wiped out from waiting and waiting for you to wake up. Maybe…he was rethinking everything he’s once promised you…

“Hey, no, you don’t have to be sorry.” His eyes caught your own, his hands reaching out to hold your own as he kneeled down to be at your eye level. Emotions you couldn’t read swirling behind them. “I just- It’s just… you’re awake. And I’m so scared I’m going to open my eyes or wake up and you’ll still be unconscious…or passed.”

“I am awake.” You insisted, worried about this being an elaborate dream all the same. Some made up fantasy your brain concocted in its last moments and none of it was real, that you weren’t real anymore.

“I want to stay,” He pleaded with you, desperate for you to understand how hard it is for him to make the decision to leave, to heed the call of an entire week’s worth of pay in just a few days. But he had a plan and he had to stick with it, it would be for the best in the long run.

“C-can you stay tomorrow?”

“Of course, sweet girl. I promise. I just- this is important. For the both of us. I swear.”

“I believe you, Frankie. I love you.” You lifted your intertwined hands and kissed his knuckles. He repeated the words before he shrugged his jacket on and bid you goodnight. He didn’t kiss you back, instead squeezing your hands twice in farewell.

“Hermosa, I-I just-“ Frankie hung his head, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees the next evening.

He had gone home to change and get a little sleep after a hectic two days of back to back tours. A touch restful now that he knew you were awake, but still fleeting. His thoughts had been a jumble as his mind flashed your unconscious form across the backs of his eyelids. Bleeding, hyperventilating, being rushed into emergency surgery not once but three times. Of you completely still save for the slight rise and fall of your chest laid out in the hospital bed. “I don’t want to say the wrong thing or diminish anything but- just thank you.”

“You saved her, at such a great risk to yourself. But you did, you saved my little girl when I couldn’t. I have endless love and admiration for you, querida. Please, I am here for you. I will help you with whatever you need or want. And not just because of this, but…but until you don’t want that anymore. You’ve got me, sweet girl. I promise.”

The conviction in his tone was strong despite the way his words were pushed out with deep breaths, trying to keep his composure. His shoulders were quaking with the effort he was holding back another wave of tears. Too many emotions for him to handle since the second you had rushed in front of that gun aimed at his daughter.

“Come here,” You softly compelled him, trying to shuffle atop the bed. Feeling still numb below the tops of your thighs, only some control over your legs that you were trying not to dissect. Going over your charts and test results had helped a little, compartmentalizing that it was happening to you and mind working to help solve and reason the things you read as if it was a patient of your own. Work. And a lot of it was ahead of you.

Frankie shuffled up and out of his shoes, choosing to urge you forward softly so he could be the one resting against the back of the angled bed. He helped to situate you against his chest, his arms coming around you in a warm embrace, the smell of his cologne and body wash puffing up and surrounding you in a comforting way. He pressed kisses to the crown of your head, nose shuffling in your hair and making you sigh out at the human contact.

“I would do it again, in a heartbeat. Even knowing what would happen.”

“Te amo. Te tango mucho amor ti, querida.” He whispered hoarsely in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. All you could do was repeat the words to him, meaning them with everything in your very being. Bringing his hands up to rest over your heart, palms flat over your chest, you both just laid there soaking up each other’s company.

His thoughts took over as you felt your breathing even, reaching over to silence the television that had been playing quietly in the corner where it was installed high on the wall.

‘Everything was so loud, a cacophony of too sharp frequencies grating on his ears as he watched the way your body fell to the ground. The man with the gun fleeing from the scene as soon as the gun had fired, steps heavy as he ran as fast as he could. Pope taking off immediately after him, his own gun pulled from the holster attached to his belt. Permission to carry it around off the clock from one of the local military bases where he worked as a freelance advisor.

Frankie was rushing too, toward you. Toward his daughter. Toward you both. There was a pool of blood forming beneath you, having twisted yourself to prevent from falling on top of Alexia’s smaller frame. She was kneeling beside you, tears running down her cheeks as you reached up to cup her face. A pinched expression on your features and blood blooming dark low on your front. His little girl turned to him as he crashed to his knees behind her and brought her in a crushing embrace to his chest, hearing the hum of the crowd that had begun to form all around.

Shouts to call 911 and responses that more than one person was already speaking with officers, telling them of what had just happened.

She begged him to help you.

She begged him to save you.

Shouting at him in her small voice that she loved you and she knew he loved you too.

She buried her face in his chest as he leaned forward to try and get your eyes to focus on him, but you were barely able to keep them open. Lashes fluttering as your breath became labored. He was speaking, words falling from him as he fell back on years of training. Pinging questions off one after the other, getting no response from you for even one. Unresponsive in the worst way, body completely laid out before him and eyes now completely closed. You could’ve been sleeping, as you were still for a fleeting moment.

But then you started to convulse, body fighting against the bullets that had landed deep in your body. He tried to tilt your head toward him, to avoid you biting on your tongue or choking on your own breath.

A new set of hands was taking over, gently ushering him away as paramedics appeared on the scene.

He could only hold tight to his sobbing daughter as he watched the two technicians tend to you. Your chest ceasing heaving at an alarming rate, your breath almost rattling as your lungs desperately tried to keep working.

Blinking rapidly, Frankie focused his eyes on his hands curled over the controls in front of him. He was flying, the landscape of the city and surrounding greenery, the ocean all laid out before him. He was okay, you were okay. Alexia was okay.

He was at work. He was okay.

His fingers twitched at the clueless ‘ooh’s’ and ‘ahh’s’ of the tourists clamoring for views outside the windows. Their voices coming in clear through the headsets they wore to match his own. Completely in their own world and no problems plaguing them. Carefree.

He was at work. He wasn’t okay.

He should’ve stayed with you.

He should’ve turned down the offer.

But he had run at the first opportunity. Unable to stop the events from replaying in his mind on a loop.

Preventing him from sleeping, preventing him from being able to look at you half the time. Seeing you as you had looked right after the attack, seeing you as they rushed you onto the ambulance, seeing you as your chest went completely still once loaded up. The way your body didn’t respond to the attempts of resuscitation.

Mind torturing him by projecting you laid out in an open coffin. Copper hair resting around your lifeless frame, beautiful face covered in the wrong shade of makeup, hiding the freckles that dotted your face from him. Forever closed eyelids hiding your bright eyes from him. Black dress hiding your soft skin from his twitching fingers, itching to trace the delicate ink that decorated your skin. A masterpiece taken from him in a cruel twist of fate.

Shaking his head minutely, he shoved the fake notions out of his head and pivoted the helicopter toward the coast. Following and announcing the route for the tour that the people sat behind him had requested.

He was at work and he didn’t think he’d ever be okay again. But he would try for you, because you were awake and waiting for him to return to you.

He pulled his sunglasses from where the frames were hanging from his collar and covered his reddening eyes.’

“Come on, two more steps and we’re home free.” The physical therapist was encouraging in the most grating of ways. Your normally polite and civil personality being shattered by the turn of events your life had taken. It was a lot of work now, but it had been a lot of work to initially discover that you had only minimal feeling and control over your lower half. Hips sore no matter how much medicine was added to your IV, legs numb and unresponsive more often than not.

But that didn’t stop the doctor from putting you on a physical therapy track of two appointments per week. Something you had thought was a lot right off the bat but not wanting to argue. Just as angered by the quick pace as you were determined to stick to it. It was the second week since waking up, discharge looming like a storm over the horizon, visible but not yet tangible.

There had been talk about Taylor renting a home to move into for the duration of your recovery. His son being taken care of by his co-parent back home with school having started. But Frankie had offered up his own home, a flush to his caramel skin as he did so. Not having wanted to ask you to move in under such dire circumstances. But he would be lying if he said the thought of offering you a space in his home hadn’t been on his mind lately.

Taylor had offered to split his time between Frankie’s and the apartment above the shop. An outpouring of love from the community delivered to the shop and hospital in overwhelmingly equal parts. Baskets of treats, flowers, cards, vouchers for services from all around the city and local vendors. Everything was being toted back between the two spaces that were now yours.

Lex indulging in the treats as she sat with you in the afternoons after school. Homework laid out before her atop the bed as you helped her with her math and writing. Different people picking her up while Frankie returned to work, determined to put in as many hours before he took two whole weeks off to help you transition to being home once you were discharged.

But right now, you were stood on shaking legs, arms braced heavily on the bars on either side of you as you stood between the set up of the parallel bars. Sweat dripping from your hair thrown up in a haphazard bun, skin sallow from the medication you were on a strict rotation of. You had forgone shoes, insistent that you wanted to be able to feel anything should it come back to you while practicing.

Your arms were shaking, holding up the entirety of your body weight on them, muscles straining and tattoos looking distorted with the flex of them. With a huff, you shifted your hips, right leg lifting slightly and managed to shuffle it about a foot before placing your foot down flat and tipping forward to even your weight with the new stance.

“Alright, you did it!” The nurse was a kindly young man, his arms hovering behind you as he waited for you to tap out. But you sucked in a deep breath and concentrated. Shifting your left foot ahead in the same manner before a spike of pain shot up from the arch of it as you settled it flat on the mat.

“Fuck! Okay, okay, I’m out. That’s all I got.” You wavered, arms shaking and legs beginning to tingle where you could feel them.

“That’s okay, you did good today. Four steps is progress.” The nurse helped you, gathering your form in his arms and lifting to get the pressure off your aching shoulders.

Santi was in the room when you were wheeled back, no sign of Taylor or Frankie. He informed you that they were both taking care of something for you which made you feel a little uneasy that they hadn’t told you themselves the night before that they wouldn’t be in to see you today. The nurse let the man take over with helping you get back into the bed, knowing you’d rather it be someone who you knew handling you for something a little more intimate of a move.

The man’s broad shoulders tensed as he supported your nearly dead weight, completely at a loss of energy from the days activities.

“Did they say where they were going?” You inquired, voice soft as you nuzzled your face into the man’s neck. He smelled so good and you were just in a very physically affectionate mood in wake of not getting any direct attention from Frankie in the way you were too hesitant to ask for.

“Mante, you know I would tell you if I knew, but they were like school boys, shuffling their feet and avoiding eye contact. I’m sure it’s just a surprise for you, don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

You were quiet for a moment, allowing the man to situate your aching legs as best he could and covering you up with the blankets that had been brought from your apartment. He busied himself with getting a take out bag unpacked and placing containers over the collapsable table attached to the bed for you. A cup of coffee that smelled of caramel and foamed milk pressed gently into your reaching hands. He was so diligent, the soft curls of his graying hair falling over his forehead as he focused. When everything was set up, he settled into the chair beside the bed with his own container and began to dig in.

But you were still, only a sip taken from the hot coffee handed to you.

“Santi…”

“What is it, hermosa?” He looked up from his food, utensils loaded up and a bite halfway to his lips. “I get the wrong thing?”

“No,” A small smile offered to him as your heart fluttered in your chest, unsure of how to even broach the concerns that were crashing over you in overwhelming waves. “No, this is great. Thank you.”

The man watched you, eyes scanning your face as you averted your eyes. He let out a quiet sigh and set down his utensils completely, asking you to tell him what was really on your mind.

“Frankie…he, um, he-“ You felt like a complete idiot as your face heated up, tears welling in your eyes unbidden. Foolish question, it was such a foolish thing to be worried about when the man’s words were nothing but reassuring and loving. “Why won’t he kiss me, Santi?”

“Is that what you need right now?”

You warbled out an affirmative. Feeling for all the world like a pathetic lovesick fool even surrounded by everyone who you could possibly need in your life right now, everyone working together to help you in any way possible.

“Have you talked to him about it?”

A shake of your head was all the answer you could muster up.

“He’s probably just trying to respect you, not wanting to put pressure on you to be that way with him if you’re too overwhelmed.” Santi went on to explain that his best friend had trouble with stuff like this, showing his affection and feelings in wake of traumatic events.

That you should try not to worry too much, though he knew that was easier said than done. To not take it personally, but he admitted to knowing that might be hard to do as well, everything so much at the moment. He reminded you that you could reach out to you with anything at any time. He would try his best to be there for you in any way that he could. Even jokingly offering to pepper kisses over your face and approaching you with overly pursed lips until you erupted into a laughing fit at how ridiculous he looked as he loomed closer. He sealed the conversation with a genuine press of his lips to the corner of your mouth, his hands cradling your face in their warmth before he moved back to his seat and ordered you to eat.

Across town, Taylor and Frankie had a similar conversation as a bell dinged above them where it was nestled in the doorway to a shop front. The two men determined to surprise you with something that Frankie had quietly brought up one night following your first rush into emergency surgery. An approval of sorts he had been seeking after was granted instantaneously with a smile and words of encouragement from the only other man he felt like he could share the conversation with at the moment.  

“Discharge papers should be processed by end of day, looks like you’ll be spending the night in your own bed.” The doctor offered you a small smile. She had been worried about having you under her care when she found out you were a once trained medical technician, knowing how bad of a patient she was when sick herself. But you had surprised her, not talking over her or voicing opinions on what needed to be done. It had been another week, progress made in physical therapy.

You were able to walk the length of the parallel bars, slowly and with a lot of huffing and puffing. But it cleared you for outpatient treatment. The feeling in your legs was spotty, coming to you mostly in the mornings when you first woke up and at the end of the day after resting for a few hours. Something she was only mildly worried about, muscle atrophy from being unconscious for so long lingering even now.

But she had been confident that the feeling would come back completely, though she was honest when she said she was worried about numbness flaring up.

That’s how you found yourself seated in the passenger seat of Frankie’s truck as he pulled into the drive of his house. He was waiting for the garage to open, in order to make it easier for you to walk straight into the laundry room instead of having to attempt to tackle the stairs to the front door. Everyone would be over tomorrow, to celebrate your release. Giving you a free night to settle in and mentally deal with the shift in environments. Lex would be at her grandparents so Frankie could focus on getting you settled.

“One moment, just…want to get something set up before I help you out, okay?” His earnest gaze widened his beautiful eyes, watching you and making sure you were alright to be left alone for a moment. He was through the door and back in the garage in a matter of minutes, a shy smile aimed at you as he helped you down and got a walked ready for you. It had a cushioned seat in the middle, in case you needed to take any breaks when trying to move about. Something you wanted to argue but didn’t have a good one against.

You felt…weird. Having to rely on him so much, but extremely grateful that he was willing to. You’d seen friendships and relationships fall apart with this much stress and similar situations. Both as a professional and a civilian, as a friend. You only hoped this wouldn’t be one of the last things he did for you before telling you it was too much, that you were too much. Love could only encompass so much before it wasn’t enough to hold two individuals together.

Melancholic and depressive thoughts abundant as you tried to come to terms with what the near future would hold for an unknowable amount of time. There was no timeline with things like this and that’s what worried you the most. What if you had flares of numbness for the rest of your life, what if he began to see you as a burden, as work he had to come back to after doing his shifts at the mechanics and his flying tours. What if all your progress was meaningless and you woke up one day with no feeling at all?

He had hushed you on more than one occasion with soft words, promises he wouldn’t do that. Promises that he was yours, that you were his, that you were in this together. But doubt crept in regardless. Even more so in the realization that he hadn’t wanted to kiss you. He was quick to dodge your advances, placing placating touches of his lips to your hair instead; of pulling you tighter to his body instead. Almost as if he was hesitant to show you affection in that way and it was hard to handle when all you wanted was that type of comfort from the man you loved so completely.

His hands were warm as he supported your weight, but he didn’t shift you down to the ground completely, instead he pulled you flush against him. Your own arms tightened around his neck, feet barely touching the ground as he ducked his head to kiss you fully for the first time since you woke up in that hospital bed. You melted into him even more, welcoming his lips against yours reverently, desperately.

The plush give of them against your own feeling like a true welcome home.

Shifting your hands up into his soft hair, you knocked the cap clear of his head as you parted your lips for him. He held you tight, not risking you putting too much weight on your own feet for even a second as he kissed you again and again, lips meeting yours in a dizzying display of his unfettered affection. Pulling at his curls, you pivoted his head to deepen another kiss, desperate for his touch and his taste. He groaned into your mouth, pulling back slightly to rest his forehead against yours. You opened your eyes slowly, watching the way his face was completely relaxed. The lines of his age smoothed out slightly as he moved to peck one last kiss to your slick lips.

He had set the table up before picking you up, at home during the day as he had received your hopeful text about the paperwork this morning. But he had run inside to pull everything from where it was keeping warm in the oven, lighting twin tapers set in the middle of the dining table. You tried to hide the squeal of surprise as he lifted you up completely, choosing to carry you bridal style over the threshold of the house and through the laundry room and into the kitchen.

“Frankie, you didn’t have to do all this.” You placed a kiss to his cheek as he carefully set you down into a chair, making sure your legs were situated how you wanted them. “I woulda been happy with a fast-food drive thru, you know that.”

“I know, but I wanted to do something special for you.” He moved over to the closest chair, settling down into it with a sigh. He looked nervous, you realized as you took in the dinner had had made before picking you up. One of your favorite dishes filling the kitchen with its tantalizing scent. The boys had snuck in food from time to time, but it had mostly been bland hospital food for a majority of the last three weeks.

Frankie cleared his throat, your eyes lifting from the items on the table and toward him.

In his hands was an emerald velvet box, open to reveal a simple gold band with a sparkling rhombus diamond in the middle.

Your lips parted, a gasp falling from them as your heart stuttered hard in your chest. Hands dropping the utensils you had just picked up clattered to the table and you stared across the table at him. At a complete loss for words as he nervously shifted in his seat and leaned closer toward you to take your hands in his own, the small box set down gently beside your plate. His hands were shaking slightly, his nerves obvious as he bared his soul to you with his next words.

“Sweet girl, I know things are going to be touch and go for a long while,” He took a deep breath, chest pulling the fabric of his shirt taut with the action. His tongue peaked between his lips, a habit you noticed when he had a lot on his mind, and he was trying to sort through everything. “But I don’t want you to worry about anything to do with us, with you and me. You have me, you have me until the moment you decide you don’t anymore. I hope you don’t ever change your mind because I’ve been gone on you since the second you aimed that glare in my direction all those months ago. Will- will you do the honor of marrying me?”

Tears welled up the longer you looked at him, his eyes so wide and open, his voice cradling you with his earnest words. All you could do was nod, voice caught in your throat.

He let out a deep exhale, pulling a giggle from you when he broke out into the widest, goofy smile you had seen on him yet. You mirrored him, lips pulling as you squeezed his hands and leaned forward to rest your forehead against them clasped together.

“Of course I’ll marry you, Fransisco. Of course.” You kissed the tops of his hands, one and then the other before you were pushing yourself up slightly, tentatively placing weight on your legs and surging forward to kiss him.

He only let you get away with one before he was standing from his seat and kneeling in front of you with the box in his hands. He carefully removed the ring from its spot nestled safely inside the velvet cushion and you held out your left hand for him. It took a second for him to place it securely on your ring finger, snug and perfect against your skin. It glittered in the candlelight and you felt a tear run down your cheek.

Frankie’s hands came up to cup your face, his lips connecting with yours as he chuckled breathlessly at having managed to pull out the surprise proposal. At your resounding yes. At the prospect of a concrete future with you.

“I love you so much, thank you for...for everything.”

“I love you too, you dork,” Your laugh sparkled against his parted lips. “I can’t believe you just thanked me for agreeing to marry you.”

“Well, you could’ve said no.”

“Not in a million years.”

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taglist: @tanzthompson @clevergirl74 @sullyosully @bitchwitch1981 @anoverwhelmingdin @jessthebaker @peppermintfury @for-a-longlongtime

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics

[romanarose]

For the Longest Time: Chloe's birth

Will Miller x fem!OC (Lorelei Giang)

Summary: Lorelei gives birth to their daughter

Warnings: Childbirth, typical Lore and WIll back and forth

Series MAsterlist (series is completed, will comtinue soon with Ben's story.)

Masterlist : Triple Frontier Masterlist :Playlist

*************

She was going to fucking kill him.

Lorelei had told Will over and over again, she wasn't going to really need him for much with the birth. She'd assisted in hundreds of births, she knew the drill. She was going be fine. Everything was normal in her pregnancy, absolutely no cause for concern, and her epidural had kicked in. Her mom, of course, had words to say about getting an epidural but she didn't give a shit. Mirical of childbirth, the pain is worth it, natural, all that is fine and dandy if you're into it, but Lorelei just wanted her dughter here and painlessly as possible. It seemed Chloe Sen was not an axious to come, however, and took and extra 4 days past her due dare to cook to the perfect medium rare, Lorelei supossed.

Lorelei had been confined to paperwork by this point, her swollen ankles having caused issues the last month and now... well Frankly she was waddling. So, desk work and intake it was.

When her water finally broke, she was at work and called Will.

"Hey princess, everything okay?" Will answered, his mouth full of food. She heard Santi in the background, which explained the food; Laci was always feeding them.

"Yeah I'm fine, just my water broke."

"WHat?!"

"Yeah I'm going into labor, I need you to get my bag-"

"IM COMING RIGHT OVER"

She sighed, listening to him tell Laci and Santi it was time, and hearing Laci squeel in the background. "No, William, baby I'm fine but I need my to go bag-"

"I'll have Santi get it, I'm picking you up we have to go to a hospital!"

"William."

"Yeah?"

"I'm at work."

"I know, that's why I'm coming to get you-"

"Baby I work in a hospital."

She had Will run home seeing as he was a 5 minute drive from their house anyway, then get to the hospital where now they sat, contractions speeding up. Will was hovering and it was driving her nuts. His role was to put on her playlist: Buddy Holly, Ella Fitzgarald, the Shrangri-la's, Humphrey Englebert, all her favorites, and advocate for her that the birth plan was being followed. Other than that, she was certain she'd be fine.

Still, the constant talking, petting her, cooing at her like a baby and telling her how good she's doing was driving up insane.

"Breath in."

"Will"

"Breath out."

"William, I will start screaming."

"Well, at least scream when I say out."

That got a laugh out of her, she'd admit. But she still turned to him. "If you don't stop telling me what to do, I swear to god I will have you removed from this room."

She wouldn't do that to actually, and he knew that, but Will raised his hands, chuckling in defense. "Fine, fine. Just promise to breath."

Two hours later she was breathing alright. She was breathing as she screamed curses at him. "I SWEAR TO GOD YOU ARE NEVER FUCKING ME AGAIN! FUCKING ASSHOLE!" Why did she had to get knocked up by a fucking norse god? Kid's head was ripping her open. Jesus, why didn't she get an elective c-section. So many poor choices.

"I know Lorelei, I'm the worse. Tell me all about it." His even voice was something to latch onto through the pain. What the fuck was this without an epidural?

"YOU AND YOUR STUPID MASSIVE GENES!"

"Yes yes, definetly my fault. What else."

"YOUR SO FUCKING POLITE!"

"Women do complain about that aspect frequently. I'm working on it."

"I AM GOING TO CUT OFF YOUR DICK!"

There was a pause as she pushed, the head crowning.

"Princess?"

"WHAT?!?!?!?!"

His fingers grazed her knuckles, and she realized her nails were digging into her palms. She turned to him, looking at his handsome, beautiful face and soft blue eyes. God she got lucky to find someone who knows when to match her crazy and when to calm it. Imagine if she'd getting pregnant by Tyler? He'd probably be watching porn on his phone like she caught one baby daddy doing. "Can I hold your hand?"

Lorelei's lip quivered as she nodded. Will took her hand in his, squeezing for dear life as a big contraction hit. She liked hearing his voice praising her. She needed him, and always would, and for some reason that didn't scare her.

*

She was perfect. Born at an insane 9 pounds even, Chloe Sen Miller was the cutest little thing Lorelei had ever seen in her life. Lore and Will were squeezed onto the bed together, Will holding the baby after Lorelei had gotten her share. She laid her head on his shoulder, ready to nap. He had this. She trusted him.

"She's so small..." He murders, mesmerized by his daughter. Lorelei laughs.

"yeah to you. You didn't have to push her out."

Will turned to her at that, smiling fondly. "You were incredible."

"I know." She kissed his arm. "But thank you."

"I'll tell them to go home. I know they just wanna make sure you're okay, they aren't expecting to come in."

But Lorelei shook her head. "Bring them in." Then added. "Just a few minutes."

Soon, the room was filled with the people Lorelei had come to see as her family. Jana and Laci with matching baby bumps, both only a few months behind her. Laci clinged to Santi's hand, everyone allowing her the one chair in the room while Frankie tried to get another one for Jana, but Jana insisted she was fine. Laci was looking thinner than usual. The couple had to cut their honeymoon short when health problems arose, Laci dropping weight and experiencing complications. Her struggles clearly weighed on Santi, who looked tired but held his wife's hand tightly. She knew what they were thinking, worrying this moment might not come for them. Laci was on bedrest, only able to go easy places like coming here. Still, both smiled at the newst addition to their family's arival.

"She's so cute, Lorelei." Laci says in a soft voice, eyes wet.

Santi hugged Will, telling him so happy for them.

Frankie brought Rosie close to the bed, telling her to be careful as she looked at her first cousin. "You gotta be nice, babygirl. None of that rugrats Angelica nonsense."

"Hey!" Lorelei protested. "I loved Angelica!"

Jana told her that wasn't surprising.

Lorelei turned to Rosie. "In a few weeks, you can even hold her, okay? Get practice for being a baby sister."

Rosie beamed. "Did you know my mommy's having a baby?"

"Whaaaat! No way!"

Jana sees Ben lurking quietly behind them all, and pulls Rosie back.

Ben, Like Laci and Santi, looked thinner. His eyes had dark circles and his skin lost it's golden tone. No summer highlghts in his hair as usual. Will watched his brother, barely recognizable, and certainly not himself. Cameron arrived in 2 weeks, and Ben still didn't know.

"Benny? Do you wanna hold you niece?"

Despite barely being there, Ben nodded, looking with wonder at the bundle in his brothers arms raising up to him. Will watched Ben held her for the first time, taking him into his gentle care, the way he knew from years of holding Rosie, of helping take care of her when things were bad and Frankie was coked out... Ben's eyes filled with tears as he said hi to her.

"Chloe Sen, meet uncle Benny"

***

We gotta give Benny something to fight for <3 A reason to get better, to know he deserves better than Alice. Like Dolli said, he loves rosie ofc, but seeing his own blood, his brothers kid... has to give him something.

This came from a scene in my head I thought it'd be funy if lore is a work and were water breaks and Will is freaking out and shes like baby im fine im literally at a hospital rn

It is SO VERY Lorelei to think she can handle everything... but Will is there because even if she CAN doesn't mean she SHOULD. He's gonna take care of his girl (now girls)<3

@pimosworld @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @whatthefishh @missdictatorme @poeedameronn @itspdameronthings @miraclesabound @babymills16 @rayslittlekitten @kirsteng42

[you-heard-what-i-meant]

Triple Frontier - Breathe Again

Just a little cute brotherly thing with the Miller Boys!

Posted on AO3 Here!

When Reader / un-named original female character (referred to only as "she" or "her" throughout) has an asthma attack, Will does his best to help her until Benny can get her inhaler. The Millers think about their unhappy childhood and how it's made them who they are today. Happy Ending!

Trigger Warnings: Asthma Attack. Character struggles to breathe. Reference to anxiety attacks, child abuse, domestic abuse, death of parents, alcoholism, drug abuse and a near death experience for both of the Miller boys.

I don't own the Miller boys unfortunately, and as usual my work is un-beta'd so my apologies for any mistakes!

Please don't repost, reproduce, sample, or lay claim to any of my work - I pour my soul into these works (and yes, it's cheaper than therapy!), and it's heartbreaking when people do these things!

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Breathe Again

It’s lucky that Will’s hands are twice the size of hers and he’s still built like a soldier - she’s gripping his hand with surprising strength, and a less robust person would be feeling their bones screeching in protest. His other hand is rubbing large, soothing circles on her shaking back as he crouches in front of her, wishing they’d found somewhere more comfortable for her to sit than the stony concrete they were running on. Will’s clear blue eyes are alert and monitoring constantly, but his smile is soft and encouraging. Somewhere in the haze of panic and oxygen deprivation, a thought drifts into her chaotic mind - no wonder the Miller boys could have their pick of the ladies… and the men.

Will is grateful she’s not wearing lipgloss, or any makeup at all, so he can properly assess the pink creeping from her cheeks into the whites of her eyes, and the grey-blue tinge just barely visible around her mouth and through her lips. Her free hand is clutching at her ribs so tightly he can see the bones of her knuckles shining pearlescent through her skin. 

At some point he’ll need to make a judgement call - ambulance or not - and no matter how many brothers he’s held as they bled (his real brother unfortunately included), he never shakes the fear that he’ll make the wrong call or make it too late. 

“Hey-“ his soft voice filters in through her ringing ears, her eyes snapping up to meet his. “ - Breathe with me, c’mon.” He manages to loosen her grip on his hand just enough to press her palm flat against his chest with his own hand over the top, and starts to take exaggeratedly slow, deep breaths. He focuses on keeping his heart rate as slow and steady as he can - a skill that he’s finely honed in his years spent behind a rifle.

Their eyes are still locked, his face relaxed despite the tension of the situation, his blue eyes crystal clear. There’s always something almost mischievous in his eyes, a kind of twinkle like he’s about to make a joke or flirt with you.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she starts to register the steady, strong thumpa-thumpa-thumpa of his heart under her palm, the flexing and relaxing of the firm muscles of his chest as he breathes. And he’s so warm. It’s captivating, and for a moment she’s not so focused on the way her lungs are convulsing and seizing inside her or the feeling of a strap being pulled painfully, crushingly tight around her ribs, or the immediate fear of oh God I’m suffocating I’m going to die. No doubt this was Will’s intention, as he notices the tiny change in her and murmurs soft affirmations that fan his breath across her face. 

The almost intoxicating spell is broken by Benny’s running footsteps as he approaches from Will’s left, and the next second the younger man is dropping to a crouch beside them. His voice has a barely-detectable frantic edge under the steady exterior that’s been trained into him by the military - Will is better at hiding his emotions, controlling his fear, keeping his voice absolutely calm and even.

“The bag was in the locker like you said, took me a minute to find this though-” he’s holding out a small plastic inhaler, shaped like an “L” and with her name and date of birth identified on the printed label on the side. “- this was the only one in there.”

“Great, can you-” Will begins, but Benny is already yanking the cap off the inhaler and holding it out. “- Thanks. Alright…” 

Will’s hand leaves her back and takes the little device, giving it a hearty shake for a few seconds, before holding it out towards her. Her hand shakily releases its grip on her ribs and grabs the inhaler, Will’s long fingers curling around her own to steady it as she forms her lips around the mouthpiece. As she depresses the little canister protruding from the top, both Millers watch her intently. The hiss of the inhaler is somewhat lost in the rasping pull of her breath as struggles draw the medicine into her lungs. Will’s fingers tighten slightly on her own and gently pull the inhaler away from her lips. 

“Try and hold it in -” she manages maybe 2 seconds before her breath huffs back out in a rush, immediately replaced by another gasp of air and a round of coughing. “- Ok, let’s give it a few seconds to start working before the next one, ok?” She barely manages to acknowledge his words with a tiny nod of her head, so focused on trying to draw oxygen into her spasming lungs. 

Benny’s eyebrows are drawn into the slightest frown of worry as he watches her continue to fight for breath. He’s holding the cap of the inhaler carefully in his large hand, making sure to only touch the outside as his free hand occupies itself by taking up the soothing motions on her back that his brother had been administering moments before. A few more ragged breaths pass before Will is guiding the device back to her mouth again. “Ok, one more time. Breathe as deep as you can-” click, hiss, inhale, “- great, hold it as long as you can.”

This time when Will pulls the inhaler away she manages nearly 5 seconds before her breath is leaving her in a whoosh again. He manages to wriggle the device out of her grasp and drops it into Benny’s waiting palm. The younger Miller drops his hand from her back just long enough to deftly click the cap back on before he returns to his gentle ministrations, inhaler gripped tightly in his other hand. Will still has one hand holding hers to his chest, but the other is now cupping her face as his thumb gently glides back and forth along her cheekbone. 

“Great - you’re doing great.” The blonde murmurs encouragingly. Benny’s alarmed by how bloodshot the whites of her eyes are, but his anxious glance at his brother receives the tiniest shake of the head - Will’s silent acknowledgment of Benny’s communication and a response of ‘not now’. 

Their unbreakable bond and  “strange” silent communication is what had made the brothers the US Military’s most in-demand special ops team. They’d always been able to communicate in an odd, non-verbal way. It was almost a form of telepathy they’d developed as Will had essentially raised his baby brother alone, their father killed in combat when Benny was eight and Will was 13. Their mother had collapsed into a pit of grief that quickly led to violent drink-and-drug fuelled rages.

It had finally claimed her life a few months after Will’s 18th birthday. He’d joined the forces, and it had pushed her into a drugs binge so extreme she’d OD’d. Benny was 15 when he’d found her on the kitchen floor.  

Will was legally old enough to be his brother’s legal guardian, and he was lucky his CO saw the potential in him - pulling strings to make sure Will could start his military career and still look after Benny. 

But Benny had spiralled - causing trouble at school, fighting, doing illegal shit, getting arrested, fucking, drinking, drugs (both taking and dealing)… anything to quiet the demons in his head. 

When Benny was 17 Will had found him unconscious and barely breathing on his bedroom floor after a drink-and-drug-fuelled-bender of his own. His instincts and brand-new training had kicked in and he’d flipped his baby brother onto his side, pounding his back and stopping him choking to death on his own vomit just in time. In the quiet, broken aftermath on the bedroom floor Benny had confessed to feeling relieved when they no longer had to sneak around their mother, lest she fly into a rage and Will take a beating to protect him. Will had softly, achingly admitted he was relieved that he no longer had to fear what she would do to Benny while he was at school or work, but that he would always, always take the hits to protect him, forever. He’d had a new danger to protect his baby brother from, but this time he couldn’t take the bruises in Benny’s place. They talked until the sun rose, and that afternoon Benny cleaned himself up and they went to meet Will’s CO.

They’d rapidly risen through the ranks of the forces together, making it to top-tier special ops in just three years. Will made good on his promise to protect Benny too many times to count, but especially 5 years later when he took 2 bullets that were destined to send Benny to meet their parents again. As Benny quietly cried next to his brother’s hospital bed - a sadly familiar situation in their childhood - he realised it was the first time he’d had cause to do so since their mother died. 

Now, with his gaze entirely focused on her face, Benny feels the moment Will starts to relax. A second later there’s an audible change in the sound of her breathing as her chest finally starts to unlock, the strap around her ribs loosening and her lungs falling back into a shallow but steady rhythm. Benny trusts his brother - and his judgement -  unquestioningly, and allows himself to start to climb down from high alert.  

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Will’s hands have moved to her shoulders. With every ragged breath she seems to slump more and more, almost as if bearing her own weight is getting too tiring, and what started as a comforting tactile connection is fast becoming a grip to keep her upright.  

Benny shuffles to sit beside her on the stony concrete, his side flush against hers. He’s blessed with a body that works impeccably well, but knows from experience how exhausting an anxiety attack can be and expects that an asthma attack would feel similar. After all, they’re called “attacks” for a reason. 

He’s used to them from his own perspective, but to watch someone he loves so much fight not to goddamn suffocate… It’s always prickled at the back of his mind that it must be awful for Will when Benny has his anxiety attacks, but now, with the flayed-raw feeling of terror, adrenaline, and helplessness, he suddenly has a whole new appreciation for his big brother. 

She leans into him, and without hesitation Benny lifts his arm and loops it around the back of  her shoulders, tucking her securely against his body. Will slides his hands down her arms and grips both of her hands in his own, folding himself to sit cross-legged on the ground in front of her. He finds himself suddenly captured by her surprisingly steady gaze, intent clear in her face. After a few seconds she speaks. 

“Thank you. For looking after me.” It’s the first thing she’s been able to say since she came to an abrupt halt halfway through their run together, and her rasping voice is achingly sincere. She holds Will’s gaze for a moment, then twists to catch Benny’s eye too. 

Will’s heart squeezes in his chest, and he has to swallow hard around the lump in his throat. He waits to catch her gaze again before he speaks. “Always, sweetheart.”

Benny finds himself unable to speak when she looks up at him again, his insides suddenly crowded with so many feelings that he can’t express them. He’s not entirely sure they’re all his, certain that some of it is the empathetic absorption of what she’s feeling, what she’s projecting. Fear. Relief. The echo of pain. 

It occurs to him that this is how it feels to have a younger sibling. The responsibility. The terror when something’s wrong and you don’t know if you can fix it. 

Their gaze holds for a long moment before he has to close his burning eyes, and he presses his lips to her forehead until he can push down the tight feeling in his throat. As soon as his lips leave her skin her head droops, coming to rest in the joint of his shoulder with his pec muscle holding her in place. He notices her hands squeezing Will’s in some unheard rhythm, feels the slight tremors that run through her body. 

They stay that way for some time, until Benny’s ass has started to go numb and he’s wondering if she’s fallen asleep. He glances up and catches the glint in Will’s eyes - no doubt reading his mind again, and probably sympathising with his own numb ass. After a few seconds of unspoken communication, Will gives her hands a deliberately firm squeeze and Benny feels the weight of her head lift from his chest. 

The older Miller sibling tilts his head slightly to see her face better.  He can see the exhaustion in her features, the way she seems to struggle to focus on him like her brain keeps zoning in and out. He’s seen it before in so many situations, not least with Benny’s anxiety attacks. 

 He smiles softly, waits for her eyes to focus on his own, and gently inquires “How’re you feeling?”. 

“Yeah, fine.” She answers far too quickly. A conditioned response. Will raises an eyebrow and holds her gaze with his trademark raised-eyebrow-smirk. She relents under his stare with a huff.

“Tired. A bit weird, y’know? My chest and my legs. But I’ll be alright after a shower.”

Will’s nodding, as Benny adds “You should probably eat too, and drink some water.”

She nods jerkily and drops her head again. Will catches his brother’s gaze again, and he hesitates a moment, clearly considering his next words carefully. 

“... I know we were going out to eat with the guys tonight, but -” 

Her head shoots up from Benny’s chest, almost colliding with his chin. “ - No, no, I’ll be fine. I just need to get myself sorted -”

Will rushes to reassure her “ - no no no, I’m saying that I’m more than happy to have an excuse to stay in.”

She doesn’t immediately shoot him down again, but neither does she agree. Benny can practically hear the cogs whirring in her head as she weighs her options - not wanting to be the one who craps off their night out, but ludicrously tempted by the idea of a more casual evening with their friends. 

Will exchanges another look with Benny before giving her another get-out-of-jail-free-card.

“Frankie was making noises about getting take out and watching the new Mission Impossible movie on Sky. To be honest it sounds much better than a crowded, noisy bar.”

Benny jumps on the bandwagon. “Oh man, I was praying someone would take him up on that. I’m in.”

Will smirks, keeping with the easy banter. “Why didn’t you then?”

Benny shrugs just enough to slightly jostle her. “I know you old folk don’t get out much anymore, didn’t wanna get in the way of your retirement-club day trip.” Benny fires right back.  

“You’re technically retired too, y’know.” 

“Yeah but we all know I had to do that so the military wouldn’t notice I was letting you take all the glory for my genius.” 

Will outright laughs, and Benny feels the slight tremor of her giggle through the side of his body as he beams at their success. 

His grin softening, Will ducks his head to catch her gaze again. 

“You ready to head back?”

When she nods and starts to untangle herself from Benny, he jumps in to assure her.

“Hey now, there’s no rush -“

“-Nah my ass has gone numb.” She murmurs, gratefully accepting the two pairs of hands that help her to her feet and steady her when she sways slightly, her eyes going unfocused for a moment. 

“One of us can carry you -“

Benny never gets to finish his sentence. “- no no, I can walk.” She smiles sheepishly. “Thanks though.”

They both nod, but neither completely let go of her as they begin a steady trudge back to the Gym they set out from God only knows how long ago.

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Thanks for reading!

There may or may not be an alternative version of this scene in which we learn a lot more about the original female character, but it's currently banging around in my head and my spicy brain takes months to actually work through these things, so please keep checking back!

[theelderhazelnut]

💭

Andrius didn’t look up from his paperwork, and seemingly ignored the large raven sitting on Ombra’s forearm.

Ombra hid the sadness beneath her soulless eyes as she hesitantly carassed its chest.

I’ll never forgive myself, if I ever lose him. But I know he’ll never like the monster inside me.

[laurfilijames]

Breathe

Part 7

Pairing: Will 'Ironhead' Miller x female reader

Words: 6.9k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Trauma/PTSD/nightmares/insomnia. Unprotected intercourse.

Summary: Unanswered questions amp up every emotion that time does nothing to lessen, and so much uncertainty raises the concern if everything will turn out okay or if moving on is the only answer.

A/N: Less hurt than the last chapter, I promise! Thank you to everyone who was so enthusiastic and responsive to it and made all that angst worth writing!

Photo by @avatarskingdom and edited by me. Please do not use without permission or credit. Headers by the wonderful @spaghettificationandpretzels!

Chapter Playlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

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You felt numb as much as you felt angry, scared and heartbroken.

It was all still so surreal, having to remind yourself constantly that Will broke up with you and was gone, the persistent sick feeling in your stomach growing with every thought of his life being at risk and that even though he was no longer yours, you might never see him again.

You did everything you could to understand his side of things, but with that your frustration increased wildly, the fact that he hadn't even given you the chance to be there for him stinging almost as much as him abandoning what you knew, or thought, you had.

Did he really believe you wouldn’t support him, that you didn’t care enough about him to give him space and time while he dealt with all the things he needed to, that your love for him simply wasn’t enough for him to want to hold onto while he was deployed, that everything you thought you had been building was broken and false?

The toaster popped, shooting your slice of bread out, making you jump after forgetting you were even waiting for it.

You ate because you had to, but food tasted bleak and flavourless, and everything that landed in your stomach felt like it sat there and made your nausea even worse.

You had made a whole lasagna earlier just because, giving you something to do for the better part of an hour, but the thought of eating it was so unappealing and you had the idea that maybe you would drop it off for Benny. Taking a bite out of the plain piece of toast, you thought how awful it might feel to go over to the Miller’s house right now, and decided against it, opting to freeze the lasagna for another time instead.

Another bite and the toast was in the trash, and you stood in the middle of your kitchen unmoving, not sure what to do with yourself next.

You hadn’t slept, and whether it was fatigue or just your grief pummeling you, you broke down and sobbed, your body shaking as the memory of Will holding you in his arms in this very spot flooded you, dancing one night while in the middle of cleaning up dinner, pausing almost anything in favour of stealing a piece of each other.

Work was a welcomed distraction, forcing you to go through the motions and function like everything was normal, able to allow you to bury your emotions for the course of a shift and nearly forget about what had happened, only to have it all come back the moment you got in your car and started your drive home, knowing you had nothing to look forward to.

You hadn’t been back to the gym since the day you saw both brothers there all beat up from their brawl with each other, your body too exhausted and weak to even consider working out, but as you sat at your kitchen table with nothing else to do, you went and changed into your gym clothes and drove over.

It was busy enough, observing the evening crowd enough to keep you entertained as you walked on the Stair Master, each step automatic and absent-minded.

Through a few people and machines you spotted Benny, resting on a bench between sets of chest presses, his smile and slightly awkward wave making you feel equally so, and as he stood and started weaving his way over to you, you felt bad that he probably felt obligated to talk to you.

You stopped the machine and stepped down, grabbing your things in the assumption you would probably feel like leaving after this conversation, your water bottle shaking in your hand that trembled with nerves and adrenaline.

“Hey,” Benny said, somewhat hesitantly.

“Hey, Benny,” you answered, smoothing your hand over your sweaty hair.

“How’re you doing?”

You sighed, looking down at the floor as you shook your head. “Do you want the fake answer or the honest one?”

Benny huffed a laugh in understanding. “You look like shit.”

You laughed out of disbelief, bringing yourself to look at him as he scratched his head and tried to recover.

“I mean- fuck.”

“No, I look like shit. Feel like it too,” you confirmed, reassuring his observations.

“Are you looking after yourself?” he asked, his face full of concern.

You shrugged, “As much as I can, I guess.”

He nodded, sympathetic to your feelings. “Are you eating? Sleeping?”

“Here and there. Not much of both if I’m honest.”

“Yeah, I get it. Just do your best even though it’s hard.”

You hummed. “Does it get any easier?”

He tilted his head a bit. “Does what get easier?”

“The worry, the waiting…”

“Oh, uh…” he pulled his ball cap up off his head, smoothed his hair back and placed it back on again, this time backwards. “Yeah, I guess we all just get used to it in a way. But I’d be lying if I said that everyday you’re half expecting to get that phone call…”

He saw the tears in your eyes well to the surface, and unlike most times, Benny felt a bit speechless.

“I can’t stop thinking about him,” you admitted, your words not even directed at Benny, but rather said aloud simply because you couldn’t keep them in.

“Ugh, I’m sorry,” you went on, wiping your eyes and shaking your head like it would suddenly shake away your feelings. “I’m gonna get going, see you later.”

“Yeah, of course,” Benny responded, his voice soft. “Hey,” he called after you, making you pause and turn half-way to face him.

“Just don’t give up on him yet.”

You gave a weak smile. “I couldn’t if I wanted to.”

You made it to your car before you really fell apart, the tears coming down your face so hot and fast you could barely see to unlock the door, and when you flopped down into the seat, you rested your head against the steering wheel and wept.

The most overwhelming sense of panic came over you, taking control over everything and trapping you in it, your mind racing with every horrible thought imaginable, and before you could realize, your breathing had turned short and gasping, your mouth desperately trying to suck in air between sobs.

Your hands wrapped around yourself, squeezing you tighter than the grip of the anxiety attack was, feeling your whole body shaking and trembling and all you wanted to do was scream.

That was when Will’s soothing voice popped in your head, urging you to focus on your breaths and count each one, the sound of the numbers in his even tone allowing you to stop the panic, and you began counting out loud until your breathing eventually leveled out.

How could the same person who was the reason you were feeling this way manage to help calm you, you thought, exhaling slowly as everything around you started to come into focus again.

You ran your hands over your face, your body still shaking with each inhalation though they had become more regular, knowing that as much as you were hurt and betrayed, you still loved Will more than you could imagine loving anything.

Benny’s phone rang not thirty seconds after he’d just hung up, Will’s number lighting up his screen suspiciously close to him ending his conversation with Tom.

He pressed the green button to answer it, and before he could even get out a ‘hey’, Will’s voice stopped him.

“Are you checking up on me?”

“Uhh-”

“I heard Redfly talking to you, idiot.”

Benny scratched his head, trying to gauge which way this was about to go.

“If you’re wondering how I am, just ask me, Ben.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes that’s easier said than done,” he quipped, recalling how many forced conversations they’d had lately where Will gave short, vague answers to everything.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

Benny sighed, lifting his arm up in exasperation before letting it fall and hit his side, “I dunno, man, I just thought I’d get a truthful answer out of Redfly over you. He’s with you every day and can tell how you are.”

He heard Will sigh, and Benny took the pause as a chance to give his brother the opportunity to tell him for himself.

“So, how are you, then?”

Will sighed heavily again. “I don’t fucking know anymore. Okay, I guess?” he said, his uncertainty clear.

“Tom said things are going well with the op, and despite it all you seem like you’ve got your head in the game.”

“Yeah, that’s all fine,” Will explained, like his role as a Captain on this tour was the least of his worries. “It’s everything else…”

“Yeah…” Benny agreed, holding space for Will to continue.

“How’s she doing? Have you seen her?”

“Saw her at the gym yesterday,” Benny said carefully, trying to decide if it would be better or worse to tell him she wasn’t doing well, but ultimately knowing if he wanted Will to be honest, he would have to be too. “She’s not doing good, man.”

Will was silent, making Benny pull the phone away from his ear to check if the call had dropped or not.

“I can’t believe I did this to her,” he said quietly.

“Yeah, well,” Benny said flatly, “What’s done is done, now you just have to focus on finishing this job and getting back home so you can fix it.”

“Do you think there will be anything left to fix?”

Benny blew the air out of his mouth slowly. “That’s up to you two. If you both want it to work out…”

“That’s what I’m worried about. By the time I get back she’ll have moved on and learned to hate me.”

“You don’t know that,” Benny countered. Able to tell the expression that would be on Will’s face right now, he continued. “She still loves you man.”

“I wish she didn’t. She deserves better, not this shit…”

Benny’s heart ached for his brother, hating that he was going through this on top of being back in action, praying his stress didn’t get the better of him or be the cause of any fatal mistakes.

“Listen, man, I gotta go,” Will spoke, his voice weak and quiet.

“Yeah, okay. Be careful out there.”

“Always.”

The beep of the call ending sounded in Benny’s ear before there was even the chance to consider saying anything else, and he hoped Will would hang onto the thought that maybe it wasn’t all lost yet.

Days turned into weeks, but the amount of time that was passing didn’t help to make things feel any better, making you wonder every day if it would ever stop hurting.

Anger grew as you wracked your brain combing through every detail of every conversation and act that could've led to this, wondering where it was that you went wrong, but you still couldn’t pinpoint the moment Will gave up on loving you or what it was that made him peel away. It almost hurt just as much as him being gone did, unable to know what the cause was so you could try to rectify it and simply get closure as to why it ended, your heart like an open wound that would never heal.

You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time before exiting your room, on your way to meet two of your girlfriends for a quiet drink, your attempts to refuse unaccepted.

You couldn’t deny that it would possibly help get your mind off of Will, but you knew it was futile as everything you did and everywhere you went, he was there.

“That guy can’t stop looking over here at you,” Grace said through a grin as she nudged you with her elbow, and you twisted in your chair slightly to follow her gaze.

You took a sip of your wine as you assessed the man with dark brown hair and brown eyes staring directly at you, his smile bright and clean, his lips plump and inviting.

You said nothing as you turned back to your friends, raising your eyebrows as if that was a response that would appease anyone.

“Come on, he’s gorgeous!” Nicole urged, tilting her head indignantly.

“I never said he wasn’t!” you defended, but in your head all you could think was how he wasn’t Will.

“You need a rebound fuck,” Grace suggested, and the thought made your stomach flip.

“I’m not ready for any of that yet,” you admitted, hoping they would understand how raw everything still felt.

“We know,” Nicole sympathized, giving your hand a squeeze as she placed hers overtop, and you knew they would support you in anything whether it was continuing to miss Will with every part of your being or hooking up with the next man who walked by.

“Oh shit, he’s coming over,” Grace blurted, adjusting in her seat as a wide smile appeared on her face.

Your heart plummeted in your gut, and you sighed, praying this wouldn’t be as horribly awkward as you were expecting it to be, trying to find the energy to be kind and cordial despite not wanting to.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” a deep, smooth voice purred behind you, and you felt the demand of his presence as he stood beside your chair.

His eyes were even more alluring up close, and his crooked smirk was equally charming as it was sexy, the dark scruff around his mouth complimenting his olive complexion.

You swallowed, feeling unable to find words, and with a low chuckle, it prompted him to continue.

“I couldn’t help but want to come over to say hi and introduce myself.” He spoke with such confidence, his voice so seductive. “I’m Cam.”

He held out his hand for you to shake, and you did, feeling your hand tremble slightly before he took it in a firm grip and moved it up and down once on your behalf.

You introduced yourself as well as Nicole and Grace who you wanted to kick under the table for how they were gawking at him, but not as much as you wanted to crawl under it to hide away as he pulled out a chair from the empty table beside yours and took a seat.

“Can I get you ladies another round?”

“Oh, yes please!” the girls chimed, seeming completely enthusiastic about him joining you.

You assessed his hand for any ring as he waved the waitress over, requesting for the same drinks to be brought to the table, feeling relieved there was no band wrapped around his ring finger, but something about him still felt off to you.

He’s not Will, your mind reminded you, and you took a long drink of your wine to try to swallow the sour feeling stirring in your gut.

It was comfortable enough talking to him, even catching yourself laughing at some of the things he said and genuinely having a good time, but every time you felt yourself liking something about him, there was one thing you found you didn’t.

He’s not Will.

You found yourself lost in his chocolate eyes as he spoke to you, imagining instead they were clear blue and held a brightness that reflected the love you had learned to see shine through them, only to be reminded that that wasn’t something that existed for you anymore, and you blinked back to the reality you faced.

“Would it be too forward of me if I asked for your number?” Cam asked, his eyebrows raising on his forehead in a hopeful, but confident expression.

“Hm, yeah, sure,” you replied, picking his phone up from the table that he slid over to you and typed your number into a text message along with your name, sending it to yourself.

“I’ll call you,” he said, standing from his seat where he continued to smile at you.

Your eyes followed him as he walked over to the bar to pay his tab, feeling something stir in you as he looked back over his shoulder at you one last time before he sauntered out of the bar, everything about him charming and gorgeous.

But he wasn’t Will.

“Are you going to go out with him?” Nicole asked excitedly, the looks on both your friend’s faces confusing you like you missed something they hadn’t.

“Umm,” you pondered, trying to wrap your head around the situation, the three glasses of wine making your head feel fuzzy. “I- I don’t know.”

You felt like crying, feeling a sense of guilt and anxiety bubble up in you, like you were betraying Will and being unfaithful despite the reminder that he wasn’t yours slapping you in the face and twisting your heart in your chest.

A few days had passed since your night out with the girls, and as expected, a text from Cam had come through asking to take you for dinner, the invitation sitting ignored and unresponded to in your messages.

Every time you opened your phone to reply, you would see Will’s name a few spots down from Cam’s, the contrast between them and what was past and what was present making you wish more than ever that you could go back in time and try to mend whatever it was that took Will away from you.

You didn't recall ever being so irritable, your temper short and your patience gone, a toss up whether you would scream or cry at the drop of a hat becoming the daily gamble.

The gym didn’t even seem to allay these frustrations, and as you tried to adjust the height of the rack bracket and it got stuck, you felt that blanket of red creeping up through you.

Cursing under your breath, you wiggled the pin again and again, tugging and jostling it to try to get it to move, the clanking of the metal against metal drawing attention over to you by prying, judging eyes.

“Need help?”

You sighed with relief, hearing the familiar voice that belonged to Benny, closing your eyes and counting your breaths as he stepped in and adjusted it for you.

“Thank you,” you muttered, avoiding meeting his eyes as shame washed over you.

“You alright?”

You forced the air out of your lungs again, still not meeting his piercing gaze.

“I'm just so angry and there's nothing I can do about it,” you admitted, your tone defeated.

“I understand that,” Benny drawled, leaning against the squat rack.

You felt him studying you, almost as if he was debating saying something.

“He asks about you every time I talk to him…”

It felt like the wind was knocked right out of you, and somehow you managed to speak.

“He does?”

Your bewilderment seemed to confuse Benny, his face screwed up as he looked at you like it was the most obvious and normal thing.

“Yeah?”

You covered your face with your hands, letting out a growl that did nothing to signify your frustration at the situation.

“I still don’t know what I did wrong. He stopped staying the night and became more and more distant each time I saw him…” You paused briefly, trying to put your thoughts in order. “Then he just stopped altogether and the next time we spoke he ended it, and now you’re saying he asks about me?”

“He didn’t tell you about his nightmare?” Benny asked, his shock blatant.

You shook your head, your brows knitted tightly together. “No?”

Benny sighed and rolled his eyes, shifting on his feet as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Jesus Christ…okay,” he groaned, exasperated by his brother’s ability to consistently make things worse.

You stood there unmoving as Benny explained what had happened, going over all the details Will had told him of his nightmare and his reactions to it, and you felt cold despite having worked up a sweat from what you had done in your routine already.

“I told him he wouldn't actually hurt you but he was so messed up from it. I think it was days before he managed to sleep after that,” Benny said, his tone sad. “I've only seen him that distraught after a nightmare a couple times before.”

“Why wouldn’t he have said anything to me?” you asked, your voice a whisper.

Benny shrugged, “I think he was scared. And then knowing he was leaving on top of it…it was just too much for him.”

You nodded, rubbing your hands on your arms for some sort of comfort, feeling like your heart was breaking all over again, but this time for Will rather than because of him.

“I’m not making excuses for him,” Benny went on, leaning with his arms up on the barbell that hung across the rack. “I don’t agree with what he did, I just know how messy things can get in that head of his, and as his brother I kinda always have to have his back, but it doesn't mean I’m on his side.”

You nodded, at a loss for words as your mind tried to process everything.

It was a helpless feeling, having some sort of understanding now but unable to do anything about it, wondering if you should send Will a message or have Benny pass one along, but all you wanted to tell him was you loved him and that was probably something he didn’t need right now.

“Thanks for telling me,” you said softly, all of your anger replaced with sadness and worry, your heart aching in your chest.

Time continued to pass but did nothing to heal, each day marking another one gone without a word between you and Will, leaving you more unclear than ever at what to do, feeling that if he wanted anything to do with you, he would’ve reached out by now.

Not wanting to put Benny in the middle of it, you never once asked him to interfere or treated him as a messenger, only asking how his brother was doing when he hadn’t told you on his own and thankful that he usually would provide an update anyway knowing you were wondering.

The last time you saw the younger Miller you had dropped off a week’s worth of food, having prepped a variety of high fat and carb meals, helping to get him ready for his upcoming fights in a new weight class.

Cooking for Benny was just the type of distraction you needed, feeling useful and productive and able to put this latent energy into something good for someone else, offering to make his meals for him each week so he didn’t have to worry about his nutrition while focusing on his training.

He had told you as he helped unload all the food from your car that Will was due to return home soon, a matter of days or weeks but there was no exact date yet, and every time you went to the gym or to the grocery store, you braced yourself for a run-in with the man you couldn’t stop thinking about.

You finished washing your face and brushing your teeth, checking your phone one last time before leaving it on your dresser for the night, never getting used to the disappointment you felt at not seeing a sweet message from Will like you used to whenever he wasn’t with you, and still holding hope that whenever it did buzz with a text, it would be Benny saying Will was back.

Your anxiousness was getting the better of you, feeling like it was worsening each day to the point you were struggling to sleep even more than what had now become your normal, never resting for more than a couple of hours at a time if you were lucky.

So many things passed through your mind in those hours spent awake, some of which consisted of that outstanding offer for a date with Cam, not declining it yet despite knowing it was something you didn’t want anything to do with. Nicole and Grace would still bring it up whenever you talked but didn’t put any pressure on you, both of them knowing deep down you were happiest with Will, and you weren’t about to jeopardize any remaining chance with him until you knew for sure that there was an absolute finality to your relationship.

Not feeling tired but knowing you needed to try to sleep, you crawled into bed, nestling yourself under the covers on the side that Will used to occupy, closing your eyes in hopes your mind would drum up the memory of his arms wrapped around you.

You knew you shouldn't do it, knowing it wasn't helping you move on and that some might deem it unhealthy, but every time you laid in bed you imagined him with you and it was becoming the only thing that would get you to sleep.

It had been your haven; the warmth of his body and your limbs tired and wonderfully achy from sex providing all the comfort you needed to drift off, both of you usually able to sleep soundly with the exception of Will having the occasional nightmare until his mind plagued him with the one that he couldn’t get past.

How could it be so wrong to go back to a time when a version of you didn't haunt his dreams, when you had brought each other nothing but love and understanding and a sense of safety and security? You kept replaying what Benny had told you about his nightmare over and over, the sense of guilt you had over it working to torture you just as much as the dream tormented Will.

You sighed, squeezing your eyelids tight, doing everything in your power to recall the feel of his lips on your neck, his breath ghosting over your skin as he wished you goodnight, his beard scratching against you in the most addicting way as he tucked his face as close to yours as he could.

Tears started to spring from your eyes the harder you shut them, thinking how you would give it all up in a heartbeat so Will could be happy and live a life with all of his worries put at ease even if it meant you couldn’t be a part of it.

Will picked at the frayed laces on his boot as he listened to the dial tone, one leg bent to rest on his knee while waiting for Benny to pick up, excited to share the news that he was flying home tomorrow and to get an update on Benny’s training, knowing he had been working hard to put on the last few pounds needed to put him in the Light Heavyweight class.

“Sup, bro?” he finally answered, out of breath.

“Hey, Ben. You running?”

“Just in the middle of some light spars. Got my first fight tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, buddy!” he hollered, his excitement palpable through the phone.

“That’s awesome, Benny,” Will praised, proud of his brother for reaching his goal.

“How’re you doing?” Benny panted.

“I’m okay,” he paused, planting his foot down so both were on the ground and scratching his head. “Coming in tomorrow.”

“Fuck, seriously?”

“Yeah…”

“Shit. The fight is in Fort Myers, I can’t pick you up, man.”

Will tried his best to disguise his disappointment, his leg bouncing as he tried to level his voice.

“It’s fine, I’ll take a cab or get Redfly to drop me off,” he suggested, knowing he wouldn’t even ask his friend since Tom would be so eager to be reunited with his girls.

Benny sighed, “You sure?”

“Yeah, it’s not a big deal. I’m just sorry I’ll miss that fight.”

“There will be more, don’t worry,” he assured. “Safe flight home, eh?”

“Thanks Benny. Good luck tomorrow. Knock ‘em dead.”

Benny chuckled, “Yeah, I will. See you soon, bro.”

Will ended the call and sat for a minute, the bit of excitement he felt about coming home diminished, feeling a sense of dejection that he officially had no one there for him.

He considered all of his options, the thought of reaching out to you even crossing his mind, but knew that he couldn’t and he would just have to settle for whatever warm welcome the cab driver wouldn’t provide him.

He blew air out of his mouth slowly, starting to feel like he couldn't capture a proper breath, closing his eyes as the sense of self-inflicted and well-deserved dread he was now accustomed to consumed him.

One, two, three…he counted, the numbers switching from the sound of his own voice to yours, repeating them with each breath in and out until he secured a consistent pattern.

Tomorrow.

You knew what it meant without any other context, the single word appearing on your screen from Benny making your heart jump into your throat, and you grabbed the edge of the countertop behind you with shaky hands as you leaned against it.

He had promised to tell you when he knew for sure and here it was, the day you had hoped for for so long, but one you were also terrified for.

Will was coming home.

As a slew of emotions ran through you, it dawned on you that his arrival happened to be on the same day as Benny’s fight, and you wondered if that meant anyone would be there to welcome him home.

You picked up your phone to reply to Benny, thinking of asking him who was planning to pick Will up from base, but as soon as you started typing the message, you hit the arrow to delete it, putting your phone back down on the counter.

It wasn’t your business, you told yourself, fighting every urge to make it yours, the thought of Wil returning home from the hells he faced with no one there for him breaking your heart.

You figured you were the last person he would want to see anyway, and knowing you had the potential to send him even more over the edge made you feel sick, thinking of how much had changed from when you were the one who used to bring him peace.

The flight was long, and it felt like every muscle in Will’s body ached as he walked off the plane and waited to board the bus that would bring them to the base station, feeling so close but still so far from being home.

There was continuous chatter around him, the excitement of all the soldiers about reuniting with their loved ones making Will feel happy and sad at the same time, and he did his best to seem enthused when asked if he was looking forward to going home.

He checked his phone more times than he needed to, having sent Benny a text that he had landed to which he responded with a thumbs up emoji, part of him hoping that there would be something from you, only to remember he didn’t deserve any grace for his actions.

He was getting everything he deserved, he thought as he pressed his head back against the headrest after sitting down, sighing out slowly while closing his eyes, finding it amusing that being alone was something he was both looking forward to and completely dreading.

It wasn’t long before the bus arrived at base, and Will remained in his seat until everyone else had gotten off, not wanting his fellow troops who were so eager to hold their loved ones to be held up by him who was only going to wait for a fucking cab.

He slung his bag over his shoulder and made his way through people hugging, a weak smile forming on his lips in seeing one of his friends holding his newborn baby, and not far off did he watch Tom embrace both of his daughter’s in his arms, picking them up and swinging them around until they were screaming with delight.

After making his way to the doors, he pulled out his phone and looked up the number for a taxi, rubbing his other hand over his tired eyes roughly, praying it wouldn’t take long for one to show up.

The area he stood in was quiet with everyone else still lingering behind, but he glanced up when he noticed a couple walking past hand-in-hand, pausing to steal a kiss.

Will was about to hit the number to dial for Taxi Tampa when he looked up again, his eyes landing on a familiar face and one he couldn’t forget even if he tried.

You had just walked in and were stopped in your tracks as you noticed him at the same time, your face a mix of so many emotions that Will could hardly pick one out.

You gave a small shrug and shook your head, silently explaining that you didn’t really know what you were doing there, and Will all but choked as he tried to take a breath, his shock in seeing you completely overwhelming.

He dropped his bag and let his phone fall on top of it, stepping toward you in purposeful strides, his eyes welling up just the same as yours were.

“I wasn’t sure if I should even come but…I had to show up for you,” you shook out, Will’s hands reaching to cup your face, his thumbs smoothing your cheeks as tears started to fall down them.

He nodded in response, unable to say anything, his own tears breaking their threshold as you grabbed onto his forearms, rubbing them through his shirt as he continued to hold onto you.

He pulled you into a hug, relieved when you embraced him just as hard, feeling himself relax into you, his face nuzzling your head.

“I’m sorry,” he cried, alternating his remorse with ‘thank you’ between pressing kisses onto your forehead and hair, your sobs making your body lurch against his.

Your hands pawed at his back, clawing at his fatigues like you were trying to hold onto him for good, and Will prayed with everything he had that you never would let go.

He wasn’t sure how long you stayed like that for, but he eventually felt himself calm down, relishing in holding you and being in your presence again, knowing he would do everything in his power to make every bit of hurt up to you.

Will inhaled deeply, letting it go slowly out of his mouth, feeling like he could finally breathe properly again after all this time.

It was surreal to be in his arms, his warm embrace something you missed more than you imagined you could have, the feel of his body on yours and his scent surrounding you so familiar.

His heartbeat thrummed in your ear as you continued to rest your face on his chest, hearing his breathing having evened out and realizing yours had done the same.

You reluctantly pulled away to look at him, still keeping your arms locked around his middle. “Should we get you home?”

Will’s mouth turned up on one side, his crooked smirk making you melt.

“Yeah,” he nodded, his hand falling to land on your lower back as you both turned to where his bag was left on the floor.

You expected a moment like this to feel awkward, but it was anything but, like you were learning each other all over again, standing in Will’s room with your arms around each other’s waist, your faces so close and your lips inches from touching.

Finally, Will leaned into you, softly pressing his lips on yours, making you hold your breath as you let your eyes close and kissed him back, a broken moan transferring into his mouth as you forced yourself to try to take in air again.

His hand ran across your back, pulling you close to him as he took a step into you, your shirt slipping up so his palm splayed out on your skin, that sensation alone making you shiver in addition to how good it felt to have his lips on yours again.

Kisses grew more intense as each second ticked by, only pausing when he lifted your shirt over your head, and despite feeling so desperate, you both continued to keep every touch slow and careful.

His fingers pinched the clasp of your bra together to release it, moving the straps down your shoulders until it fell from your body, returning his hands to your arms where he trailed his fingertips up them to your neck and then down to your bare chest.

You found the buttons on his shirt, blindly unfastening each one until you were able to peel it open, feeling his smooth chest and the defined muscles of his torso, his warmth radiating out onto you.

Will reached up to take hold of your face, angling your head to press his tongue deeper in your mouth, stealing every bit of air from you in the process.

Breathe, your mind begged, but kissing him was better than breathing.

The rough material of his fatigues brushed against your nipples, making your breath hitch in your throat even more, your body moving to rub against him again to replicate the feeling.

You were rid of your pants and underwear next, leaving you naked while Will remained in his uniform, but the intoxicating feel of your skin on his bare chest let him know that he needed to have as much skin-on-skin contact as possible, and he tore the garment off his upper body quickly before moving to his pants.

Once you were bared to each other, you returned to your slow caresses, touching and exploring with light fingers and hands, your pleasure brought on purely by love.

You stopped kissing him for a moment, teasing your lips on his until you managed to whisper, your voice thick with lust.

“I need you, Will. I need you inside me.”

His nose nudged your cheek as he agreed with the nod of his head, his hands clasping your face again like he feared if he went too long without kissing you, you would vanish.

He took your hand and led you to the bed, sitting down on it and shifted back slightly where you followed, straddling his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck, looking into his vibrantly blue eyes as he gazed at you lovingly.

His hands slid all along your back, bringing you closer to his body before they landed on your legs, guiding you to put them straight so they were behind him and you were seated flush against his lap.

You breathed out slowly as your forehead rested against his, feeling his cock settle at your folds, and when you moved your hips ever so slightly, you gasped at the sensation.

Will kissed along your jawline, his hands massaging your hips, ready to assist as you lifted yourself enough to reach between your bodies and take hold of his cock, guiding him to your entrance where you slowly sank onto his length.

Short, shuddered breaths were exchanged between you before you found each other’s lips again, and you gradually began to move together, finding a tempo that sang to you and helped display the love that had been missing.

Will held onto every part of you that he could, grasping at you as you rocked and rode him, his hips jutting up into yours in slow, meticulous thrusts to give you everything you needed, feeling your desperation grow while his did too.

Your clit rubbed against the coarse hairs above his cock, grinding until you were at the edge, the way your wet walls clenched around and encased him driving him to the brink what felt like faster than ever.

Even though you were both quick to arrive at your climaxes, nothing about it was rushed, savouring each movement to get there and not taking a single second for granted, every emotion felt transferred through your bodies.

Will kissed you hard, groaning into your mouth as he came undone, coating your walls and filling you completely with his hot cum that started to leak out of you as you continued to move on his shaft, your orgasm lagging just seconds behind.

Your fingers clawed at the back of his neck, scratching and digging into his flesh as your body took every bit of pleasure from him, the seal of your mouths breaking as you both panted for air, his head falling into the hollow of your neck while yours rested on the side of his, his hair soft on your cheek.

His mouth smeared wet across your collarbone as he moved his face, pressing sloppy, lazy kisses onto your skin as he continued to hold you close, feeling his chest and back expand and contract with each heavy breath while you kept your arms secured around him.

Will brought you with him as he laid down on his sheets, your bodies still connected, his fingertips tracing your hairline before he leaned toward you and kissed your lips again.

After a few more minutes of kissing, you tucked your face into his neck, your legs entwining with his, Will rolling over onto his back where he held your hand and brought it to rest on his chest.

A silent agreement seemed to settle between you to leave the talking until tomorrow, right now needing to simply be with each other, and like nothing had ever gone wrong, Will closed his eyes and fell asleep, his mind and body finding a peace he didn’t think he would ever have again.

---

Part 8

Taglist:

@sotwk @dailydragon08 @sunnys-day @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls

@littlenosoul @glitterypirateduck @momia2910 @maggotzombie @rmwarn90

@paintlavillered @casa-boiardi @stealfromthedevil @kmc1989 @justreblogginfics

@spaghettificationandpretzels @whatever-lmaoo @steviebbboi @charethcutestory02

@christinhunnam @hp-hogwartsexpress

[darlingdekarios]

keeping count.

eating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 3,470 content: William "Ironhead" Miller x f!reader, established relationship, angst, mentions of canon-accurate death and violence, smut [f receiving oral, unprotected p in v]

when William returns home far later than he was supposed to, it becomes his new mission to show you how worried he was he'd never see you again.

Your boyfriend was only supposed to be gone for a week, so on day eight when he still hadn’t walked through the threshold of your shared home the anxiety began to bubble in your stomach. By day ten, the anxiety had festered into full-blown trepidation, and by day fourteen you were practically hysterical on the phone with family – both yours and his, minus his brother of course, as they were supposed to be together. No one had heard from either of the Miller brothers in two weeks now, and that fact made any possibility of comfort for you impossible. William Miller, a man so tough you’d never fathomed that he could be in danger when he last walked out of the door, was officially missing. 

It was always misery being away from him – it had been this way for the last few years of your relationship – but the feeling that this time he seriously may not come home to you was worse than any pain you’d felt before. The time passed so slowly, 24-hour days feeling double that until they all muddled together, each day bringing new and horrible thoughts about where he could possibly be. By Friday, 15-days after he’d set off with his team, you could hardly sleep, or even focus on anything other than when he was going to return home to you. 

If he was going to return home to you.��

The temporary reprieve for the day was a day off from work, a nice hot shower, and the bottle of bourbon that awaited you in the kitchen, eager to numb the pain and quiet your mind for a few hours. Keenly aware of the hour you’d already spent in the shower by the amount of music that had passed you resigned yourself to moving on to the next part of your evening after conditioning your hair. As your head tilted back to rinse your hair you closed your eyes, inhaling a deep breath to steady yourself once again. 

Your mind occupied in that false semblance of a peaceful moment, you missed that the song playing through your speaker had stopped and that the heavy wooden door to the bathroom had swung open without a creak. The interruption was unnoticed for a moment before your eyes opened once again, immediately landing on the one thing you’d spent days hoping for through the glass door of the shower. You wanted to ask him if he was real or just your mind playing a cruel trick on you, but your mind betrayed your wishes and refused you the proper words to utter as he pulled his shirt over his head, his pants and underwear soon following. 

His time in South America and whatever had, presumably, gone wrong had caused him to lose a bit of weight, and his eyes contained so many emotions encompassed by exhaustion that you had to wonder how he was even managing to stand. Your usually clean-and-tidy William was now disheveled, the evidence of a lack of access to a good shower for days presenting itself to you. As he moved closer to the shower and opened the door to join you the stitches on his side showed themselves to you, a quiet gasp leaving your lips at the sight. William had always been completely honest with you, something you loved about him, so while you had known why Santiago invited him on this mission down South, you never expected him to return home with that many stitches. 

By the time he had climbed into the confines of the shower with you your mind was reeling with an entirely new set of questions – where had he been? What happened? Why did he have stitches? Why didn’t he call you the second he could? Why did he always let Santiago get him in trouble? Was he okay? The racing thoughts were overwhelming, and as always he read your expression perfectly as he stepped right in front of you, his arms wrapping around your waist to bring you forward to the warmth of his body firmly and his head lowered to press soft lips to your forehead. 

  “I’m home,” he breathed out quietly, lying his head on top of yours to soak in the feeling of closeness to you once again, cherishing the way your arms wrapped around his neck instinctually as any remaining centimeters were closed between the two of you. Tears broke through the dam you had built against them for the day, spilling down your cheeks before you could stop them. 

  “Will,” was all you could manage back as a reply, his name leaving your mouth somewhere between a sob and a prayer, your fingers locking together on the back of his neck in an attempt to prevent him from pulling away before you were ready for him to.

  “Sorry I’m late,” he whispered into your hair, his lips pressing into the freshly-washed area in a way they’d done thousands of times before, soaking in the coconut and orange scent that he’d spent hours wondering if he’d ever smell again. His hands slid to grasp your hips in a display that meant you weren’t going anywhere anytime soon, either. 

  “You’re eight days late, William,” you choked out, the anger boiling to the surface to cover the despair in your voice. There was no use hiding from him though – he saw through you now as clearly as he ever had. 

  “I know, I kept count,” he sighed, his fingers digging into your skin with the lightest pressure. When your face tucked into the crook of his neck as you attempted to quiet another soft cry from your lips, one of his hands slid to cover the distance from your hip to the back of your head. As he stroked your hair softly and held you against him his lips repeatedly pressed into your head. “I won’t do something like that again, sweetheart…I promise.”

  Finally truly at home again back in his arms you allowed your emotions to continue spilling out, quiet and strangled whimpers soaking into the skin of his neck as he held you through your emotions. Taking a step back into the water he allowed the heat to work over his muscles, washing the dirt and grime and blood away from his skin. He knew he’d have questions to answer when he returned, and remained certain that they were an inevitability sooner rather than later, but he still found hope building that for today you’d allow him to enjoy what he had feared he’d never see again. 

  He was always the perfect source of comfort and soon you were satiated, your falling tears coming to an end as you pressed a light kiss to his shoulder. Nuzzling your face against the hollow of his neck in a quiet sign that you were happy he was home pulled a relieved breath from him, his arms wrapping to hold you tighter in silent communication that he was happy, too. As you released one hand from its hold on the back of his head to reach for soap your head dipped back at the perfect moment his reached for you, your lips meeting in a days-late kiss, the starvation of you evident in his heated kiss.

  Finding his designated bar of soap that had gone unused for weeks you began to work it over his skin as he deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue along your bottom lip to beg for entrance, an unnecessary gesture he knew you still always melted for. When you pulled away for a desperate breath his lips chased after you, his head ducking to capture the soft skin below your ear as your head fell back, a quiet whimper escaping your lips. You were always conscious of gentle, calculated movements with him, but he displayed a newfound level of appreciation for them as he placed small kisses down your neck. Doing your best to keep an eye on where your hands were taking the soapy cloth to avoid stitches and lighten over bruises you eventually cleaned his entire torso, leaning forward to press a light kiss to his chest. 

  “You’re filthy,” you remarked quietly, earning a quiet and missed chuckle from his chest as he nibbled lightly at your collarbone. He eagerly moved forward to claim your lips again and released a frustrated huff when you evaded him, clicking your tongue in disapproval. Turning your head you placed a light kiss over a bruise on his thigh, soaking in the quiet whimper that passed through his lips. “You’re not finished.”

  The quiet words had hardly registered when you sank to your knees in front of him, your hands sliding down his torso and to his hips to begin work on his muddied legs. A quiet sigh passed through his lips as your hands worked over his thighs, down his calves and back up to slide back to his muscular backside. Soon your hands had made their way back to his thighs. 

  As one of your soapy hands reached to work over his slightly hardened cock, a light moan slipped through his lips as his head leaned back to soak in the feeling of your hand wrapped around him again. With several rubs of your hand he was satisfactorily clean everywhere and his cock was at full attention in front of you, his eyes once again staring down at you as though you may disappear any moment.

“Santiago is a bad influence,” you frowned, leaning forward to place a soft kiss to his hip, quietly appreciating the chance to have more moments like these given the two weeks you’d spent panicking about his well-being.

“I’ll tell him you said that, sweetheart,” he breathed out with the normal amount of honesty behind his voice, his fingers finding their way to your cheek to brush it gently as you kissed along the expanse of his waist. 

  “I’ll tell him myself,” you asserted, your hands sliding to the backs of his thighs again carefully. “Did Benny come home?”

You finally returned your gaze to his face, met immediately by his impossibly blue eyes. A nod from him lifted some of the remaining anxiety from your chest and you nodded in return, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “Did…everyone come home?”

His silence and the hazy look that reached his eyes brought no comfort as you trailed kisses up his torso, standing once more to reach for his lips and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Your kiss brought him back to his current whereabouts, his hands once again finding your waist to hold you close as his quiet voice reached your ears. “Please…tomorrow. Let me just be home tonight.”

As the word home left his lips his right hand slipped downward, a long and skilled finger sliding along your folds to gather the evidence of your excitement to see your partner home again. A quiet moan of his name left your lips in agreement to his proposition and his lips claimed yours again as the same finger slipped into you, swallowing the next noise that came from your mouth as his tongue gained the entry it sought. Your body responded to him as it had done many times before, leaning into him as he curled his finger inside you to pull another moan from within you. 

His lips moved in a kiss that communicated the fear he’d spent days feeling – the fear that he’d never have you again – until he found himself breathless, his solitary finger pumping in and out of you gently. When he withdrew for air he began his trail of kisses once more, making his way down your torso with a speed that reflected his lack of patience as he fought through pain to kneel before you, pushing you back toward the wall with a gentle hand on your stomach as he went. 

“William, your stitches…” You barely managed to breathe out, your speech entirely uneasy as a second finger was added within you, his eyes once again finding yours through the steam of the shower. His free hand slid to one of your ankles, encouraging you to lift it over his shoulder which you fulfilled hesitantly as his lips kissed your hips one at a time. Any hesitation you felt melted under the heat of his voice. 

“To hell with the stitches,” he essentially growled, his face moving forward to lick a thick line from the fingers he had buried in you to the swollen bundle of nerves he knew would send you over the edge. His reward was the quiet whimper released from your lips as your fingers found their way into his still-wet hair. “I’m starving.”

There was no further reasoning with him, not until he had completed the mission he set out on, and you knew that as his lips connected to your clit again, sucking lightly as his fingers curled in blissful unison against the coveted patch deep within you. The groan of appreciation that left his throat was laced with pure appreciation – grateful for the taste of your arousal for him, and grateful he got this again. Grateful that thanks to a newfound clarity of what was important in his life, he’d never risk giving this up again. 

His free hand slid to grasp your hip, digging his fingers in and holding you in place as he pumped those two fingers faster, alternating his sucking and perfectly pressured licks to your clit perfectly. He couldn’t help himself from keeping track of each moan that left your lips; each perfect combination of his tongue and fingers causing your walls to tighten; and each time your grasp on his hair pulled his face just a little closer, often so close he struggled to breathe – not that he’d ever complain in his current position. 

A particularly wanton moan and feeling your thigh shake beside his head signified his goal was in sight, his fingers curling and stilling within you as he tilted his head back to search your face, happy to see your loving gaze already fixated on him. He licked his lips free of your arousal painfully slow before telling you what he needed to hear.

“So delicious,” he praised as his lips found their way to your inner thigh, pressing a kiss to the soft skin there before wiggling his fingers back and forth slowly. “Give me one, princess.” He removed his fingers, eliciting a desperate whine from you before he coaxed the sound into a moan, licking along your folds and dipping his tongue inside of you before returning his tongue to your clit, flicking it back and forth. A few more sinful flicks of his tongue had you ascending, your fingernails digging lightly into his scalp as you moaned out his name, signifying you’d given into his desires perfectly once again.

Catching your hips in his hands to keep you steady through your orgasm he gathered what he could onto his tongue with a final swipe of his tongue before kissing back up your body. When his lips reached yours again he tasted of you, and you hadn’t returned your breathing to normal; and even still you hungrily swallowed his kiss with fervor, your hands sliding to the sides of his neck as you awaited whatever he asked of you next. Your kiss was too consuming to pull away from, and he whispered against your lips just long enough to plead you for more.

“I can’t carry you,” he panted, his voice strained despite its low volume. “I’d take you right in the shower, if I could. Let’s go to bed.”

The suggestion had barely left his lips before you were out of the bathroom, heading down the wood-floored hallway recklessly dripping water wherever it landed. Will didn’t waste time with a towel and followed behind you with slightly more cautious steps until his feet reached the carpet of the bedroom, his steps increasing to cover the distance between the two of you so he could reclaim your lips in his. Ensuring the pair of you made it onto the bed without damaging his stitches took more restraint than he needed to have right now, and by the time he found himself kneeling between your spread legs and stroking himself he could hardly wait to feel your warmth engulf him. Bending forward, his lips found yours once again.

His lips kept their connection to yours as he rubbed the leaking head of his cock around your entrance, his kiss faltering as he pushed inside of you, moaning out in profound appreciation at how you welcomed him home again. Your legs wrapped around his waist to pull him closer, your lips leaving his as your head fell back against the pillow he’d reached back to move beneath it, thankful as ever for your partner’s endless consideration toward you. Your hands grasped his biceps as his fingers dug into your hips, sliding thick inch after inch into you before there was nothing left to give and nowhere else to go, filling you completely. 

Burying his face in the crook of your neck he sucked your earlobe between his teeth to lightly nibble before nuzzling his nose into your hair, breathing in the scent of your shampoo once again as he savored simply being inside of you. When a quiet “please” fell from your lips he ground his hips into yours, groaning deeply and the friction the movement brought. There was no amount of money worth the risk of never feeling this again.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he cooed, sliding his already-throbbing cock out despite his desire to stay buried in you painfully slow. Weeks in the jungle meant he had recently had other things on his plate and no access to you, and he knew no matter how laser-focused he attempted to be he’d never last long – you always made it so hard to last long after he was away. His back straightened again to look down between your bodies as he slid his cock back into you even slower than he’d exited, his fingers grasping your hips hard enough to bruise. “You should see how fucking pretty you look taking me in like this, you perfect thing.”

His praise was always rewarded by the most thankful cries and now was no different, your hands reaching to slide down his chest as your legs wrapped tighter around him in a desperate attempt to keep him closer. Eager to oblige you, he began a melodic pace, pumping into you with intentional and calculated yet rhythmic movements as he gazed down at you lovingly, enjoying the glow to your face and the way you only looked this messy and beautiful and perfect for him.

As he pondered his adoration for you his pace picked up, his hips occasionally grinding against yours as he bottomed out within you to rub the head of his cock within that sensitive patch deep within you. When he found the angle to hit it perfectly it became relentless, his right hand reaching between the two of you to connect his thumb to your clit. As he rubbed perfect circles around your clit his pace quickened to a possibly reckless speed in his current state, neither of you fully conscious of the risk as your thoughts only focused on the results of your reunion. The noises from your mouths combined with the sound of his balls slapping against your skin as he forfeited any grinding, focusing his efforts on pinpointed thrusts. 

“Give me another one, baby,” he coaxed, leaning down once again to press a kiss to your lips as he adjusted his position to lay over you in desperation to be closer. “Please give me one more.”

You whined into his mouth and wrapped your legs tighter as your walls clenched around him, giving into his needs for the evening once more as your legs shook around him. Normally not one for messes, Will had opted to release onto your stomach or back in the past, but now he couldn’t bring himself to leave you as his own orgasm washed over him, painting your walls with thick white ropes with no regard to the potential consequences. 

When he could bring himself to remove himself from you he repositioned onto his back, keeping the arm closest to you extended in a welcoming gesture for you to come to his side. In a way you’d done so many times before and you’d never take for granted again you curled into his side as the two of you steadied your breathing to normal, your eyes closing as your head found his chest as a pillow. 

$5 or $5,000,000, he had everything he needed right here with him.

masterlist.

[beefrobeefcal]

Dark!Frankie Saga: VII

Chapter Seven: Bring It Home

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: 3,740

Content Warning: angst, threats of violence, crime, snark, Major Character Death, stabbing, violence, betrayal, kissing

Author's Notes:

Y'all, I know you had big dreams for this chapter... and I thank you for your patience. Please don't hate me 🥺

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 @rebel-held @gracieispunk

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

--------<3---------

From the time Frankie pulled you onto his lap at the bowling alley to when he stood with you at your bedroom door, you felt like you were in a dream. A beautiful, hazy dream that you were pretty sure was going to end with him fucking you in your bed.

“You did good tonight, Honey.”, Frankie said sweetly, cupping your jaw and cheek in his big hand.

You couldn’t help but stare back, falling further for him through his deep, brown eyes. He but the softness in his gaze hardened as he sucked in a breath and released your face, stepping back. He broke the connection with you and looked away. He cleared his throat and nodded towards your door, leaving you feeling cold and confused. What did you do wrong?

“Night, baby girl...”, he mumbled as he turned, heading towards the lounge.

You opened your mouth to say something to him, but all you could do was feel your body react to the lack of his touch and your cheeks burn from the rogue tears that fell. You were alone in the hallway, and you didn’t know why.

*****

Pope had been outside in the shadows, trying to remain inconspicuous while on his phone, when the blacked-out SUV pulled up at the front doors.

“Yes, I know!... fuck you... I’ll call you back...”, he hissed quietly into his phone before ending the call and focused on the two of you returning.

He watched as Frankie got out of the SUV, holding his hand out to you, and saw the stupid look on Frankie’s face as he helped you down from the vehicle. Pope shook his head and rolled his eyes, watching Frankie pull you in for a disgustingly sweet kiss before he tugged you into the building.

He scoffed as he brought his phone back up to call his contact back, a message popped up on the screen.

Steven is done. Now what?

Pope grinned as his deviously sadistic mind’s wheels turned; he pocketed his phone and walked into the building.

*****

Frankie’s heart was beating fast as he walked away from you, and his palms were sweating as he clenched his fists. He didn’t stop until he was standing in his office, shakily sucking in his breaths, and he allowed himself to think about what had just happened. It was one thing for him to go down on you in the bowling alley and hold you as your body came back down – he was still in control. But looking in your eyes as you looked back at him, seeing the same thing he felt staring right back told him he was no longer holding the reigns in this, and it terrified him to his core. He felt like you could see who he really was under his harsh and mean exterior; under it all he was just the former drug addict who battled his demons daily to keep himself upright; just the man who made himself bigger so he could be respected, because no one was going to respect a scrawny junkie. And if you did see it, why did you still want him at all? Did you see weakness? Did you know that just asking him for a kiss would make him weak in the knees? Why did he allow you to get under his skin?

He was finally broken from his trance when the door to the office opened behind him. Frankie whirled around and found himself facing Pope.

“Fish... you got a sec?”, Pope asked, cautiously approaching him, with a judgmental eyebrow raised. When Frankie nodded, trying to shake the weakness of you from his mind, Pope nodded back in kind.

“What d’you need?”, Frankie said coolly as he made his way around his desk and sat down heavily on his chair.

Pope walked up to the desk and leaned heavily on, deciding not to tell Frankie that he saw him come back with you, and how he saw the look on his face and knew what it meant. He instead decided to set in motion what he hoped would be the last thing he needed to.

“I got a message... from one of the grunts under Will... he was making the rounds and checking in on people that owe us...”, he said quietly, trying to sound nervous about what he was going to say. “and, he - uh…”,

“Fuckin’ spit it out, Pope.”, Frankie groaned after a deep sigh, rubbing his eyes.

“He went to Steven’s...”

“Who the fuck is that and why do I care?”, he growled, not looking up at him. “Get to the fuckin’ point!”

“It’s your girl’s brother...”

“What about him?”

“He’s dead.”

Frankie looked up at Pope, feeling his blood run cold.

*****

After being left on your own, you sat in your room, feeling the buzz from the beer slipping away and letting your thoughts drift towards more nefarious avenues. It hurt to know that no matter what happened, you would end up alone; your brother sold you out for more drugs, Benny hated and abandoned you, Will threw you into the lion’s den, and Frankie didn’t want you beyond getting what he could from you. And Pope... you knew what Pope wanted and it made your skin crawl.

The tears that you’d cried had mixed with your make up had dried on your face, leaving your skin feeling itchy and tacky. You needed to clean yourself up and give yourself some comfort, even if it was small. You stepped into the shower and tried to wash away your sadness.

After drying off and getting into your pajamas, you once again sat in your room alone. The weight of solitude was heavy on you, so much so, you could barely stand it. All you could do was pick up your Kindle and try to distract yourself until you fell asleep.

*****

Benny sat back and watched the other guys play a round of foosball. They’d invited him to join but he’d waved them off. He’d wanted to sulk and be angry with no interference; he couldn’t get your face out of his head from the last time he’d seen you the night before, and Frankie’s words to him sounded off like a fire alarm in his skull: She’s not here for you. Stick your dick in literally anything else, but that is mine.

He’d replayed your last interaction with him over and over in his mind over the past 24 hours, building up more rage and fury over how stupid you were being. He didn’t want you for himself; he wanted something better for you. There’s no way Frankie could offer you what you deserve. Fuck, no one in this fucking building could. He sneered as he shook his head, anger rising further each time Frankie’s words bleated in his brain and deafened the rest of his thoughts. Frankie told him to fuck anything like you weren’t even a person. You were just part of the wide scope of anything, like an object he could own and devour like he did everything else he wanted.

Will watched Benny silently from across the room. He saw his brother furiously twisting his hands and clenching his jaw; saw the vein in his forehead pop out as his face turned red with rage. Will knew he was at fault for this; he knew Benny had a soft spot for vulnerable people, especially women. He knew Frankie was wrong about how Benny felt, but he wasn’t willing to correct him and confirm that Benny wanted to fuck her as much as Frankie wanted to diet. But the powder keg that was hitting a critical point across the room in his brother was far more worrisome than he’d accounted for, given even a day going by hadn’t managed to dampen his rage. Benny could be a dangerous man, given the right mindset, and he wasn't afraid of violence or being violent. It was the reason he was so valuable to the Frontiersmen - he wasn’t afraid of getting his hands dirty for the right cause, and Will worried that you were becoming the right reason for Benny to unleash that terrible dog in him at Frankie.

As Will decided it was in everyone’s best interest to try and quell the fire, Pope walked in with a smug grin aimed directly at his brother, and Will felt like he was about to watch a train derail.

“What’s with the long face, fucker?”, Pope crooned sadistically as he sauntered towards Benny.

“Fuck off, Pope.”, he growled in response, his eyes glaring up at the smiling man.

 Will saw the determined, toothy smile breakout over Pope’s face as he squatted down in front of Benny.

“What’s the matter, baby Benny?”, Pope mockingly cooed, amusement bleeding from his tone. “You mad that Fish is cockblocking you from that sweet little puss – “

Benny’s hand jutting out and gripping Pope’s throat stopped him from finishing his sentence. He stood up, pulling Pope into a standing position as he stared wide eyed and clawed at Benny’s arm and wrist, gasping and choking.

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”, Benny snarled, pulling Pope’s face close to his.

Will ran up beside Benny and gripped his shoulder, shaking him. “Benny! Drop’im!”

He yanked Benny’s arm back and Pope collapsed on the floor, gasping and coughing.

“GET YOUR FUCKIN’ HANDS OFF ME!”, Benny roared as Will’s arms wrapped around him form behind and pulled him back.

“Fuck you, Pope! Fuck you 'n fuck your fuckin’ smug mouth!”, Benny screamed at him as Will continued to restrain him. ‘FUCK, WILL! LET ME THE FUCK GO! I’ll FUCKIN’ KILL YOU!”

Will knew Benny didn’t mean it. Sure, he’d probably take a swing and hit him – he’d done it before. But beyond that, he knew it was Benny’s rage talking.

Pope shakily looked up at Benny and offered him a cruel smile. Benny saw red; that fucker fueled his blinding rage, and he threw Will off him, storming out of the rec room.

“Don’t move, Pope!”, Will yelled, pointing his finger at him as he turned and ran out after Benny.

Pope smiled, watching him leave after his brother, seeing a brand-new opportunity. Fortune favours the brave…

*****

Benny was on a rampage. Like a rabid bear, he stalked the hallways, making a beeline to the barracks. He’d walked right past Frankie’s office, not even considering stopping there first to tear into him over what he was doing. Will quickly caught up to him, yelling for him to stop.

Frankie sat in his office chair. He heard heavy footsteps coming towards the door and he looked up, but they moved past.  He thought nothing of it until he heard Will.

“Ben! Stop!... Stop 'n take a fuckin’ breather, man!”

“FUCK YOU AND FUCK POPE AND FUCK FISH AND FUCK THAT STUPID BITCH!”

“You’re not thinkin’ this through! You don’t wanna hurt her, Ben! BENNY!”

Will’s panicked voice caught Frankie’s attention and he stood up, listening to the sounds move further down the hallway. He knew not to get in Benny’s way when he was mad, but he was heading towards you and the idea of Benny being in this foul of a mood and even Will wasn’t able to placate him didn’t sit well with him.

Benny threw the doors to the Barracks open and screamed your name. Even being in a separate area, the volume at which he called you made you jump. You dropped your Kindle on the bed and moved cautiously to your door. You clicked the flimsy lock on the doorknob, and you jumped heard the door to the hallway slam against the wall from how hard it was flung open.

Your heart was beating deafeningly loud in your ears, and you backed away from the door as the thumping footsteps got closer and your doorknob jiggled.

Just as soon as you were mentally thanking what every deity was listening for that lock, the door was kicked open and there was Benny. Breathing hard, his face twisted in a snarl and his fists clenched.

You looked up at him, not sure what he was going to do. “Benny... wha - “

“You're so fuckin’ dumb!”, he yelled, stomping towards you and cutting you off. “You’re fuckin’ smarter than this!”

He stood over you, his hot furious breaths fanning over your face. You tried to back away, but he grabbed at your arm.

“Don’t fuckin’ move!”, he yelled in your face, his hold on you tightening.

You yelped and tried to pull away from his grip. He shoved you back, sending you to the floor. Shock gave way to fear and anger as he stalked towards you, and you scrambled back into a standing position.

“Just fuckin’ stay down, you- “

“What do you want from me?!”, you cut him off, yelling in a cracked voice as tears welled up in your eyes.

His eyes narrowed at you and his scowl set further in his face. “I want you to smarten the fuck up! I want you to stop bein’ a dumb bitch!”

You angrily wiped at the tear that fell down your cheek, and, for a brief moment, Benny’s eyes looked at you almost horrified at what was happening. Your face contorted with a frown, and you pushed him with all your strength, making him take a small step back to keep his balance.

Neither of you knew that Will was in the hallway watching this unfold, not sure how to intervene, and his focus was torn away from you both as Frankie walked into the hallway and stood next to Will, ready to jump in.

“What is your problem?!”, you screamed at him.

His menacing glare returned, and he stepped up to you, challenging you.

“My fuckin’ problem is you’re not thinkin’ with your goddamned brain!”, he bellowed. “My problem is you’re thinkin’ with your pussy like a fuckin’ whore- “

Before you could register your actions, your hand harshly made contact with his face; you slapped him hard.

The room fell silent, and Benny’s head snapped back to you, all fury gone. What was left was the look of hurt and disappointment, and you weren’t sure who it was directed at – you or himself. Will rushed in and grabbed Benny, hauling him back. Benny’s eyes didn’t leave yours until Will had dragged him out of the room, cursing at him for his temper.

And once again, you were alone. Your chin quivered and your body trembled as the rage dissipated from your system, replaced with shame and remorse. What did you do?

Before you could collapse under the weight of your actions, Frankie stepped into the doorway.

You raised your eyes to him and held back a sob as you shook your head, silently saying please – I can’t handle any more.

“Baby girl...”, he spoke softly as he walked slowly towards you and pulled you into his arms. You tried pushing him back, but he gently used his strength against you, holding you in his embrace. His gentleness after the harsh intensity of what you’d just experienced with Benny broke you, and you let out a heavy sob that wracked your body. His large hand held your head against his chest and he murmured softly, trying to soothe you.

“I’m so sorry, baby girl... come on, Honey... calm down... he’s gone... I know, baby... I know... he’s gone now... I’m sorry... he doesn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground, baby... he doesn’t know what he's talkin’ about...”

“Stop... just stop!”, you squirmed out of his hold and stood back from him. You furiously wiped your face again and shook your head. “He’s right! He’s right about everyth - “

“No, baby girl... no, he’s not!”, Frankie pleaded, holding his hand out to you, beckoning you to come to him.

It made you angrier, his actions seemingly still trying to train you to be his good little bitch, coming when he calls. You shook your head, rage taking over. “I’m not a fucking dog! You don’t order me around like one!”

His voice was so soft. “Baby... Honey, please...”

“No! Mr. fucking Morales! He’s right - I’m just another one of your dumb whores that you can throw away! I’m no better than that bitch you had on your lap at the bowling alley! You just keep me like a pet and bring me out when you need a fuckin’ fix! You don’t want me - no one does!”

You didn’t realize you were screaming at him and walking towards him.  Frankie’s hands were held up, trying to calm you. His eyes were wide and pleading, his mouth was open and frowning, as he shook his head.

“Baby girl… shhhhh… no… no, Honey…”, he shook his head, and cooed, moving towards you again. “No, Honey… you got it all wrong…”

“Don’t…”, you warned as you stepped back, glaring up at him. To Frankie, you must have looked like a cornered, feral cat, fueled by rage and fear.

You didn’t intimidate him. He reached out and cupped your cheek, as he’d done countless times before, but this time you pulled out of his grasp.

You didn’t scare him. But he needed your softness back; this harsh and jaded version of you hurt him in ways he didn’t know he could be wounded. His heart ached as his other arm wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you into him again. He smoothed his hand over your jaw, his thumb gently caressing your lips. You tried, albeit half-heartedly, to get away, but he saw the softness slipping back into your eyes.

You didn’t deter him. “Don’t push me away, baby girl…”, he said softly, bringing his face close. He ghosted his lips over yours. “I want you here… with me.”

He pressed his lips gently against yours. Your resolve to fight dissolved and you wrapped your arms around his neck, grasping for more contact with him. Opening your mouth to deepen the kiss, he followed suit, slipping his tongue against yours. You were both desperate. Yes, you’d fooled around in a bowling alley, but this was something that wasn’t scratching an itch or a power play; this was the two of you finally, without words, admitting that you needed one another on a baser, more human level.

Frankie pulled back first, breathing heavily and his eyes scanned yours, asking silently for more. You nodded, and with that, he grabbed your hand and pulled you out of your room and into his.

*****

After his run in with Benny and making sure his windpipe wasn’t crushed, Pope was back outside around the building in an alleyway. Hidden in the shadows, the only sign of his presence was his phone screen lighting up his face.

As he searched through images confirming Steven’s demise, a call came through. He answered it quietly, keeping his voice low but harsh.

“I need more time - … no, you don’t understand, he - ... I know that was the deal, but you gotta hear me out- … I can’t just… I know it has to look like an accide-… I tried! The fuckin’ little brother… Yeah… fuck, no… No… I know, but I ca-… fuck. Okay… I understand… Yes! Fuck! I got it!”

Will watched from the far end of the building. Pope’s voice, although quiet, carried, and Will’s mind raced, putting piece by piece together, not quite being able to wrap his mind around what he was hearing. He didn’t know what he was up to, but he knew he didn’t like it.

He watched as Pope hung up and stopped himself from throwing his phone against the wall, and he clenched his fists and teeth. Will moved on his feet, causing the gravel to shift and crunch under him.

“What do you want, Will?”

He stopped, feeling his body tense at Pope’s recognizing his presence, even in the dark.

“Who you talkin’ to, man?”, he asked. Will tried to keep no discernable emotion or feeling in his tone, trying to keep Pope off his anxious scent.

“No one… one of the grunts fucked up… just tryin’ to set them straight.”

Will hmm’d in acknowledgement; he knew it was a lie and he knew Pope wouldn’t be convinced that he believed him, but he knew saying anything more would probably drive more suspicion.

“I’ll ask again, Will… what do you want?”

Will moved closer to Pope, trying to keep his voice down when he spoke.

“You gotta stop rilin’ Benny up. I know you think it’s funny, but he’s gonna really fuck someone up and we don’t need that.”

“Fuck you, Will… what are you, his keeper? His fuckin’ nanny?”

“I’m the last thing keepin’ him from killin’ someone… If wasn’t there tonight, you think you would’a made it?”

“So, what you’re saying its you’re the one keeping a leash on him?”

Even in the dark, Will knew Pope was facing him. He could feel the breath on his face. He was close – too close.

“If you weren’t around, no one could stop him?”

“Jesus, man… You know he’s got a fuckin’ temper... he needs someone to hold him back.”

“Yeah, he does have a temper.”

“Then stop pushin’ him! Stop antagonizin’ him!”, Will pleaded. He heard Pope huff a laugh.

“You’re in his fucking way, Will.”

Will heard the smile in Pope’s voice, and his blood ran cold.

“The fuck is that supposed’ta mean?”

Pope got close to Will and grabbed the back of his neck and held his face to his.

“You’re in my fucking way.”

Will felt a sharp sting in his stomach, and then warmth. Wet, hot warmth on the skin of his abdomen. The sharp sting erupted into searing pain, and he sucked in a ragged breath as his head spun.

“Santi… wha- don’t….”

“Fuck you, Will.”, Pope huskily whispered, ripping the knife out of Will’s gut. “This is on you. You wouldn’t let him just...”

“San-Santi? Pope? … why?” Will gasped, stepping back and clutching his middle. He stared up at Pope, wide eyed and trembling as he fell against the wall behind him and slid down to the ground. A tear slipped down his face as he watched his friend – his murderer – turn and walk away, leaving him alone in the alley to slip away into the inky darkness.

--------<3---------

TAGLIST:

@theywhowriteandknowthings @harryleatherfit @harriedandharassed @neverwheremoonchild @rebel-held @beee-haw @nevergoingbacknowshine @idolatrybarbie @v4vayha @lalocitos @xdaddysprincessxx @deathsholywaterr @heareball @lyssramscal @wintrwinchestr @blackfemalenerd @toxicanonymity @southernbe @starkeydaviss @noxturnalpascal @gwendibleywrites @romanarose

[beezusvreeland]

Santi's journal (Santiago "Pope" Garcia x Reader)

I was planning on publishing a fic about Santiago on Valentine's Day, but didn't have time to finish. Since I like what I wrote so far, I decided to share with all of you :)

summary: After the break up, Santiago is advised to write a journal to deal with his feelings, an exercise that brings back memories and, maybe, a new hope for your relationship.

ship: Santiago "Pope" Garcia x Reader

genre: Angst, possible second chance romance, Santi sometimes being sweet and, others, a bitch.

words: 1,7k

taglist (if you'd like to be added, just let me know in the comments): @wreckmyimage @steven-grants-world @lizispunkk @torntaltos @nervousmumbling @littleshadow17

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You’ll never read this. I’ll make sure of it. It boils my blood the fact that I can see the face you’d make, you would tell me writing in a journal is so unlike me. Of course you’re right, you’re always fucking right. I wouldn’t be doing this if Will hadn’t made me. He showed up at 7 fucking am at my mother’s house and you know she fucking loves him, a prince charming, if she has ever seen one. Fucking prick keeps smirking at me because I know he is far from it. After eating like a fucking king, he tossed me this goddamn notebook and a pen and said something how I should stop pouring my feelings on alcohol, hilarious since he was drinking as much as me last night, and find another way to express emotions or whatever. He is still here, watching me like a fucking hawk while I pretend I’m taking this shit seriously. 

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Being back at my parents’ house is fun for like two days, after that it’s just depressing. I’m sleeping in my bed in my room and it just doesn’t feel like home anymore. If my conscience wasn’t guilty already, I would have broken the promise I made to Ironhead and driven my ass straight to the bar. I would keep getting a hangover, but at least I would sleep better.

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I was cleaning the car just now and found one of your earrings. That one that’s a small golden hoop, you wear it all the time. You’re probably looking for it, maybe I should give it to Frankie or Benny to return it to you. It’s funny, you always said that you felt sort of naked without earrings. It was one of these things you would repeat every once in a while, I’ve always liked that. Felt like a confirmation that even if you changed, you were still you.

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Things got complicated after we broke up. I wonder if you feel it too, our friends forming teams for each of us. I don’t like that. And I know you don’t either. I went to Fish’s to give him your earring, feeling safe ‘cause you know, it’s fucking Fish, mi hermano. But Sarah was home and was the one who opened the door. Let’s just say she’s very much on your team. She made sure I knew that with all the screaming in spanish and the dishes being thrown my way. I hid in my car until Frankie came home. Me, an army veteran. That’s how pathetic my life has been, princesa. 

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Can’t sleep again. Think I got too used to having you by my side. Also, this bed is very small, I don’t know how I was able to sleep here. I think you would like to know that now I’m the one doing my own laundry and the cleaning. Ma made it clear that her casa no es un hotel. I heard her telling mis tias that the only baby she wants to take care of is a grandchild and that I ruined her chances of having one. 

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Met a girl at the bar last night. We made small talk for a while, until she asked me if something was wrong because I kept looking at the door every time someone walked in. I told her I thought I saw a friend, but the truth is I realized that my body has an automatic response to the sound of the bar door opening. I turned every time hoping it would be you walking in, but it never was.

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I saw on the news that the old movie theater downton is going to be demolished and turned into a parking garage. Not gonna lie, it made me so fucking sad to think about it and to wonder how you might react to this news. We were always there when we were kids. It was where we talked for the first time. You think it was at school, but it wasn’t. All I wanted was an electric guitar just like James Hetfield’s and my parents said absolutely fucking not when I asked them for it, so I started working there on weekends. Sundays were always boring, only a handful of people showed up in the mornings and time just wouldn’t go by.

And then one day you showed up at the concession stand, hair down in one of those headbands you loved so much, I wasn’t prepared, thought I was going to have a heart attack at the age of 16. You recognized me from homeroom, knew my name and all. I was such a fucking simp, always trying to sit next to you. I thought you would never even look in my direction and then you were there at the theater, trying to make some small talk while I got you popcorn. I spent the rest of the day over the moon that we had talked and terrified I had blown it by being so nervous and barely saying anything to you. In homeroom on monday, you turned to me with a shy smile and said hi. That’s all it took. You had me…and still do.

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The nightmares are back. You know, the ones with the sounds of shots being fired, all the blood and the bodies. I’m terrified that one day I’ll start recognizing them. Of one of them becoming you. I almost called your number, dialed it and everything. Then I remembered that, according to you, the only acceptable excuses for waking you up in the middle of the night were if the house was on fire or if someone was dying. And I just didn’t want to give you yet another reason to be mad at me.

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I’m pissed off right now. Frankie had the audacity of taking me out of town to help him pick up some table Sarah bought online and next thing I know, he starts to reprimand me for what happened. Some bullshit about not giving up on what I loved, especially not you.

No matter how much we argued, he still missed my point. You were the one that had doubts. The one that didn’t want to commit. You said you wanted to, so why won’t you?

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I went back to the bar today. Fuck, I really needed a drink after that disaster with Frankie and the arguments with my mother, who won’t shut up about Miss Celia next door becoming a grandmother to twins and how she is thinking of giving her some of my baby clothes. Ma wanted them to go to her grandchildren, our children. We can’t have a conversation that doesn’t involve this topic. I just can’t do anything right.

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It’s not just the clothes she keeps, you know. Ma also has several scrapbooks with moments I didn’t even remember. There was one just for prom, with pictures at my house, in front of the limo, others where I look very sweaty and probably stoned. I spent years going back to that memory. It’s one of my biggest regrets, not taking you to prom. I put myself in a situation I didn’t know how to get out of.

The night we kissed for the first time, in my car parked in front of the movie theater, blew my mind. Before that, I thought you’d never date me, so I started dating other girls. I had hooked up with Paloma Gomez a few times when she let me know we would go to the prom together. I said yes. I was such a shit little idiot, fuelled by hormones and teenage angst. I hadn’t learned yet that having sex with someone doesn’t mean you are in love with them, how meaningless it could be. It didn’t matter how much I tried, no amount of it could ever compare to talking to you on the phone late at night, trading secrets and whispers about everything and nothing.

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Got a consulting job at a firm. It’s freelance for now, but you know, it gives me something to do and a reason to leave the house every day. The people at the office are fine, there aren’t that many demands at this time of the year and one of the ladies from the other floor brings a cake every friday. This week’s was lemon flavored with a cream filling I know you would love.

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Benny convinced me to try out the gym he is working at and it wasn’t bad. I thought he worked at the counter or something, but he is a personal trainer. A good one, if you ask me — don’t fucking tell him.

Ben made me lift some weights and run for a bit. Tried talking to him about the fight, I actually meant to ask how you have been, but once again the words escaped me and our conversation took a turn to who’s right and who’s wrong. He said if I wanted you back, I should understand what went wrong to make it right. It was weird, not gonna lie, all the riddles and shit. For a moment there, I felt like I was the kid and he was the adult for once.

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A few days after we kissed, you showed up at the theater again, remember? You seemed nervous for once, holding a dark green box that you put on the counter. You were even wearing a dress I hadn’t seen before, the one that made you look like Wednesday Addams. It seemed you even had a bit of makeup on.

You broke the awkwardness between us asking me to open the box. Inside there were five cupcakes with inscriptions on them: P R O M ? When I looked back at you, you had your hands behind your back and were shifting your weight, a smile on your face. Telling you that I already had a date and confirming I was dating that girl was one of the hardest things I ever had to do in life — and I’ve hidden in a cave full of corpses before, you know it.

I became desperate, tried telling you it wasn’t serious, that maybe I could cancel with her to go with you. And you said that would be cruel to both of you, then left.

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author's note: I have and idea for a part two. Let me know if you're interested? And if you like what you read, please reblog and leave a comment, it means the world to us writers to be able to interact with our readers.

masterlist

[penvisions]

the melting point {chapter 15}

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Baker! Reader (exEMT! Reader)

Summary: With two articles under your belt, you're busy prepping for the final farmer's market of the summer season. Intent on making a good impression on the city once again, but it happens in a way you least expect it.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: canon typical violence, stalking, stranger danger, mention of previous injuries, medical jargon, gun violence, firearms, panic, chaotic scene, high anxiety scene, crowds, mania, allusions to shooting (but not described), smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), slow morning smut, description of the male body, food consumption, smoking, cigarettes, talk of past trauma, mentions of past emotional abuse

A/N: this chapter has taken a long time, but i'm back with these two and i'm happy to deliver this to y'all! *header images are for ~vibes~ only, reader is described as having red hair and tattoos

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || kofi

You woke slowly, warm from the body curled around you. Strong arms were laid over your back, keeping you in place where you leaned into Frankie with your face pressed into his chest and legs tangled with his own.

Frankie’s breathing was even, until he huffed as consciousness took hold. He buried his nose into the back of your neck, lips parting for him to nip at the skin there before he was pulling away altogether.

His strong back was on display as he padded across the rug and toward the bedroom door, the morning light peeking through the blinds catching in the notches of his muscles. Grunting lightly, you rolled over onto your back to lay in the warm spot he left on the sheets, eyes closing as sleep pulled at the edges of your mind.

The muffled sounds of him stirring about in the kitchen kept you from slipping back into deep sleep, simply laying there and enjoying the domestic moment as you heard the rush of water as he set up the coffee machine. Soft meows sounded from underneath the blankets and two head popped up from beneath them as the cats realized it was waking hours. They jumped from the bed and the sound of their trotting and the creak of the bedroom door let you know that they were seeking Frankie out in hopes of breakfast.

His soft murmuring as he talked to them pulled your lips up in a lazy smile.

You must’ve dozed off a bit, because the next thing you knew was the hot press of broad hands over your middle, the blankets suddenly gone from atop your body to be replaced with Frankie’s body. He was hovering low, over your stomach, the feel of his nose as it trailed down over the skin there, nerves jumping as it tickled just a bit.

“I got you, querida, I’m gonna make you feel so good,” His breath wafted over your core, causing you to whine as your hips bucked to get him closer. Fingers digging into the give of your thighs, he looked up at you through his lashes to see you already watching him with dazed eyes. Not breaking the connection, he leaned in and licked up your seam with the flat of his tongue. The heavy wet weight of his tongue parted your lips and you sucked in a shuddering breath as tingles of pleasure sparked over your skin.

He licked at you clit gently, testing how sensitive you were. When your hips pressed toward him, he sucked it into his mouth and laved attention on it. A borderline pornographic moan sounded loud into the air, igniting Frankie’s body. He pushed a hand down to the crotch of his boxers, trying to focus himself. He was aching, his touch only bringing his arousal to the forefront of his mind. He moved the hand to reach up and graze soft touches over your swollen lips, gathering the slick you were making just for him.

As his fingertips grazed your fluttering entrance, your hips bucked. The action caused him to release your clit with a wet pop.

“Frankie, please, I need more.”

“I’m gonna give it to you, sweet girl, don’t you worry.” He dove back down, mouth moving against you with the hot wet of his tongue while two fingers slid easily into you. He crooked them and you mewled at the budge to your g-spot he always found so effortlessly.

“F-uck.”

He hummed against you, the vibrations taking you closer to the edge you were balances so precariously on. His fingers pumped out of you at a fast pace, knowing that’s what you liked best, what you responded to best.

Peeking through heavy eyes, you caught sight of him rutting against the sheets where he splayed below you. The way he took pleasure in giving it, suddenly too much to handle. White spots exploded over your vision as your release washes over you in a cresting wave. The heat of it making sweat pill on the small of your back, in between the valley of your breasts, on the skin of your forehead. Frankie moaned into your core as he felt you clench tight around his flingers, the creamy release leaking out around his fingers still deep inside.

“Fuck, mi vida, you’re…you did such a good job for me.”

You whined as he carefully slid his fingers from you, bringing them up to his lips to lick his reward from them. A deep groan past over his plush lips, shiny with your slick. Fingers scrabbling at his chest, you reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him up, the hot line of his body coming to rest against yours. His hard length dragged across your thigh, leaving sticky drops of precum from his leaking tip.

His hands were gentle as they propped up the still healing knee up to wrap around his waist, and he notched the head of his cock right at your entrance.

“Dame un beso,” He demanded as he leaned down, lips hovering your own as your eyes watched the way his body moved. The softness of his middle hot where it hovered over, the way one of his hands was wrapped around the length of him as he held it there, waiting for his kiss. You surged up to desperately kiss him, mouth open and tongue licking into his own. He swallowed the moan from you as he pushed in and bottomed out in one thrust.

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The grocery store was busy in the early morning, but you had put off going to grab the coffee creamer you preferred for basic brews up in the apartment. You were on your phone in the middle of the baking aisle, text open to Frankie and asking him what type of salsa he preferred, you were going to cook dinner that night, to celebrate the end of the market season. Someone bumped into you, the phone nearly falling from your hands when you turned to see a young woman far too close to you. She had a panicked look about her, her hair mused from moving too fast. Her hands came around your upper arm and she pressed close to you.

“Someone is following me, and I just didn’t want to look like I was alone, I’m so sorry.” She whispered lowly to you, explaining her breach of your personal space. You nodded once, so slight that she could only feel it against her head close to yours. You feigned looking over the stuff in your cart, voice light as your eyes swept over the rest of the aisle.

“You think we should do white or dark chocolate this time?” There was a man hovering at the end of the aisle, too engrossed in the coffee filters for your comfort. He was breathing a touch too fast, his chest rising and falling in a way that gave him away underneath his dark hoodie. The cap atop his head looked so much like Frankie’s beloved one, but only in silhouette. This man was nothing but creepy and the hair on the back of your neck stood on end as you noticed him shift slightly closer.

You hit the call button on Frankie’s text chain, slipping it into your front pocket to allow for the speaker to catch sound easier.

“Oh, well, you know how I feel about white chocolate?”

“Of course,” You tittered, voice a little breathy as you looked at her out of the corner of your eye. You could hear Frankie’s voice coming out small from the speaker on the phone but it was indiscernible as the man at the end of the aisle began to approach. His attention was on the offerings of flavored coffee syrups now, but his ear was facing the two of you. “But let’s work through what we have left over from the last batch, win-win?”

“Win-win, thank you so much.” She tightened the hold she had on your arm before releasing it and going to the head of the cart and began moving toward the end of the aisle. You took to the side, placing a hand on the lip of the basket. “Alright then, next stop?”

“I think we should get some coffee, at that cute place?” You could picture Frankie’s confused and worried expression smoothing over as he realized you were trying to talk to him without being obvious.

“Errands and a treat!” She allowed you to guide the cart toward the front of the store, her steps even as she tried to match your easy pace.

“We’ll check out and then you can follow me.”

The shadow of the man followed you all the way through the checkout process and getting the girl to her car. You gave her the address to the bakery, typed it into her phone’s map, told her to follow after your truck once you got loaded up yourself and drove by her spot to lead the way.

Frankie was already at the shop when you pulled up into a regular spot like you were a customer, the girl parking beside you. You both walked into the shop, hand in hand, making your way straight to Frankie who had taken up the couch that faced the window. He had been watching the street since that distressing call, in the middle of work errands that could wait until he made sure you were safe.

He kissed your cheek and squeezed your hand tight when you approached him. Bringing his arm around the girl in a light embrace to keep up appearances that you all knew each other after a shared look to ensure that was okay with her. She smiled sheepishly at him as she sat down on the couch across the coffee table.

“Thank you both so much, I had no idea what to do.”

“Someone was definitely following her, Frankie. Kept close to us the whole way through the store and a black hatchback followed us here too.”

“Cops won’t do anything until he makes a move, unfortunately.”

You thanked Louise as she came over to greet you, she must’ve sensed that something was wrong because she treated you like a customer. Asking after you and seeing what your trio wanted to drink.

“Don’t worry about the charge,” You leaned close to the girl, her dark hair brushing against your bare upper arm. “I own this place, just keeping up appearances in case he comes in.”

“Thank you, really, I just moved here so I don’t have anyone to help with…whatever this is.”

“Well, you’ve made two new friends today.” You smiled at her, helping to distribute the drinks Louise had brought over. As you stood to do so, you noticed another car pull up out front, taking the last spot against the curb. They parked well for how packed the street was, but again, that’s why you had opted to put in a small lot on the right side of the building. It wasn’t the car that had driven by twice now, with a shrouded figure hunched over the steering wheel and you felt comfortable enough to take a seat beside Frankie on his own couch.

You introduced yourselves, saying you had a small group of friends the girl was welcome to join on any occasion. Frankie’s held his drink in one hand, his other resting warmly on the top of your thigh as you settled into the cushions. Easy conversation flowed as the girl seemed to calm down and gather her bearings. Frankie even offered to follow her home before going back to his work errands when she was ready.

“Frankie?” A hesitant voice broke into the conversation from the front door. You looked over as if your own name had been called. Frankie’s hand slipped from your leg and you felt a pang at the action. He looked like he had gotten caught in the middle of something he shouldn’t have been, when you glanced from the woman who had just walked into the shop to him, confusion painting your features.

His hand came up to rub at the back of his neck as he scooted slightly away from you, sides no longer touching. The curls reaching over his neck from underneath his cap fluffed up at his nervous tick.

“Lucy.” Was all he could say in response, the white-hot prickles of anxiety crawling through him at the surprise encounter.

“Oh!” You stood and offered your hand with a polite smile. You looked back at the flustered man, making sure it was okay to interact with his daughter’s mother. He nodded, the movement stilted. But it had been there, his comfortability: the permission to interact with her. “Frankie’s told me you were in town, it’s nice to meet you.”

“And you are…?”

“She’s my girlfriend.” He didn’t stand to greet her more intimately, staying seated with his coffee in his grip. She nodded along, taking in the way he seemed to find himself as he spoke about you. The nervous air about him dissipating as the focus shifted to you. “Been together for a while, she’s the owner of this place. She’s been…a really important part of my life lately, so please, be respectful.”

You reached over and placed a hand over the one he had resting atop the back of the couch. Eyes soft when you looked over at him.

“Please, feel free to try anything from the case or on the menu, my treat.” You looked back over to her, she was watching Frankie closely. Thankfully, she didn’t look too upset, maybe surprised would be a more accurate description as small lines were apparent around her brows and the corners of her eyes. A shaky exhale and a nod came from her, before you ushered her over to the case and explained some of the items. She asked a few questions, mostly about the bakery but when you were both waiting beside the register for Louise to make her choice of drink, her eyes glinted with something as she spoke in a hushed tone.

“Is…is my- is she happy?”

“…she is.” You wanted to reach out and place a comforting hand on her shoulder, but you hesitated, unsure of how that would go over. Instead you spoke as genuinely as you could while still being respectful yourself. “She really enjoys coming here and seeing how things are made, to cook at home when it’s the three of us. But…she is, happy. Frankie is doing a wonderful job, even if he doesn’t feel like it all the time.”

“You love him.”

Her words weren’t accusatory.

“I do love him, very much so. And your daughter, Lucy.” You worried your bottom lip, slightly anxious as you mulled deeper thoughts over. “I…can’t begin to imagine the situation you were in…back then. But I have been through some rather difficult stuff myself. We all make choices that haunt us, but know that he doesn’t hold any grudge nor does Lex. I don’t know what all he’s told her since he’s seen you last and y’all talked. But…you aren’t considered the bad guy.”

Your breath was pushed from your lungs when her arms came around you in a sudden embrace. The few tears she couldn’t tamp down dampening the collar of your tank top. You carefully brought one of your own arms up around her to return the hug. When she pulled back, her smile was watery.

“Thank you, it’s…the regret is what kept me away for so long, but seeing him in that flower shop. It was…it was like a chance to finally breath again, to make amends. I feel guilty for not having been able to commit to him…to them. But I never really wanted to be a mother…”

“And that’s perfectly okay, you tried, but I don’t fault you for leaving…just the way that you did.”

“You have every right to…it wasn’t my finest hour.”

“Everything’s okay, we’ll all be okay. I promise.”

-

The second you were up the staircase under the eyes of a watchful Frankie, he enveloped you in a tight embrace. The scent of him strong as it surrounded you, the cedar and motor oil undertones that always seemed to linger on him comforting as his entire body wrapped around your own. He was corralling you as he tried to breathe you in, his mouth open against any skin he could reach. The scruff of his patchy facial hair and full mustache tickling as he did so. His lips plush and velvety where they pressed against your skin.

“…thank you.”

The words were searing into your skin with a swipe of his tongue.

“You don’t have to- ah!” The sting of his teeth on a nipple through the fabric of your tank top stole the words of your response. His hands were moving to unbutton your jeans, thick fingers hooking into the waistband of them and igniting a spark low in your middle. He mirrored the bite onto your other breast as your hands came to grip his shoulders and you gave a small push. He rocked into you, the line of him hard and hot through his own pants as he rutted against your hip.

“Frankie!” You giggled, a little lightheaded at the sudden affection. You were about to tell him why he needed to reign himself in, when a voice sounded from in the kitchen.

“Damn, Fish, let the woman breath.”

He sprung from you just as suddenly as he had been on you, face hot and eyes a bit wild at being caught in such a state. He was more concerned for your privacy, your integrity, than his own and he shifted to stand between you and his best friend. His body shielding your own as one of his hands came to cover the slight tent at the front of his pants. You giggled again as you looked around him to see Pope giving him the biggest shit eating grin as he chewed on a bite of whatever he had just seasoned in the hot pan behind him.

“Pendejo! What’re you doin’ sneaking around in here?”

“Wasn’t sneaking, primo, was just making dinner, like we planned?”

Frankie huffed, looking down at you where you had moved toward the island and settled on a stool. You leaned over to take the bite off of the spoon Pope was extended to you, his hand cupped up under it so as to not spill.

“Lex is still napping, but she had a good day at the park. Wants to go camping soon, so we should all plan to book the cabin soon, yeah?”

“Oooh, I wanna go!” You wiggled your shoulders as you nodded toward the pan and gave the man a thumbs up.

“Of course, mantequilla, that’s a given.” Pope looked over at you with a softened expression, voice tender as he watched you rub at your knee gently. Frankie walked over to the coffee table and picked up the bottle of your pain meds. He busied himself getting a glass of water with only two shoulder bumps to his friend and brought both over to you.

“I’m making pasta, easy enough. Figured we’d take it easy tonight since it’s gonna be a big day tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I don’t think there’s a speed rack that isn’t loaded down to capacity down in the kitchen.”

“Tio Santi! That smells so good!” She sprouted from the gust room off to the left of the kitchen, door creaking open. She greeted you both with side hugs before she picked up the smaller of your two cats and snuggled her. Loud purring could be heard over the sound of Pope getting plates down from a cabinet.

“Wash your hands, Lex, and set the table please.” Frankie pulled the small creature from her, gently nudging her toward the bathroom.

“Yes, papa.” She was gone for maybe a minute before she was twirling around the kitchen, grabbing the plates from Pope and dancing around him to fetch the silverware. She set it all atop the small table by the laundry nook before taking her seat and waiting patiently for family dinner.

“Do I have time to shower, Santi?”

“It’s nearly done, but I still have the bread to make.”

“I’m gonna go wash off all this buttercream then, I feel like a damn frosted cookie.”

“Look as good as one too,” Frankie whispered into your hair as he helped you stand on your tired legs. A busy day had continued after the weirdness of the morning. Frankie had returned to his work errands while you went to preparing for the market tomorrow. But you had texted the girl from the supermarket to ensure she was okay, told her to call you if she caught so much as a glimpse of the man or his car and then the police. Offered her to come by the shop tomorrow or whenever she wanted.

“Oh hush you,” You let him steady you as you walked toward the bathroom, desperately needing to not smell like sugar and butter. He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head as he ushered you through the door. He made sure you were able to safely step into the large stall before he returned to the kitchen to help with the last bit of dinner.

-

The air was filled with the hum of voices and faint music. The sun shining down warmly over the Saturday morning scene of the last farmer’s market of the season. Everything was going as planned for the exciting day, you and Will were managing customers, the inside help tending to drinks. But as with everything, it all changed in the blink of an eye.

A gunshot rang out, a plume of smoke following the sound up into the open air of the street. Screams and the rumbling sound of dozens of footsteps on asphalt filled the air in its wake. You had instinctively ducked, hands dropping the bag you were holding out to a patron to cover your head. As soon as you looked back up you saw what chaos had resulted. Will’s hands over your back where he had curled over you were steady as he pulled away from you as you straightened back up to your full height.

“Everyone inside!” You shouted, wanting to be heard over the scene, you and Will were picking up the folding table set up in front of the door and moving it to the side. He was ushering people into the shop, instructing them to hide further in the kitchen and behind the counter, to turn the lights off and be quiet. A good crowd had formed, the people closest to the store seeking the much appreciated shelter.

“Will, watch over them. I’m gonna look for the others!” You were tugging your apron off and handing it to him, walking away from the safety of the shop. Benny had gone off with Lucianna while Pope, Frankie, and Lex had gone off in a little group to explore the markets offerings.

Everything around you oversaturated, the scene so crisp and sharp that it hurt your eyes. Your focus fell on the small figure of Lex as she cowered in the protection of a flower stand, hidden in the blooms of them. Frankie was further down with Pope, both of them helping to get people out of the way in the craziness. Someone had been shot, you could smell the tang of blood wafting down the street. Police sirens were far off, those that had already been acting as security for the market scrambling to get people to safety and inside the businesses lining the blocked off street.

Lucianna was hidden in the flower stand as well, her arms tight across Lex’s chest as she held her smaller form close. As soon as the little girls frantic brown eyes landed on you, she was pulling from the woman’s grip, rushing toward you. Everything froze, the world tilting on a dizzying axis as the sun glinted off of the muzzle of a gun behind her. Frankie spotted it the same second you did, but he was so far down the street, so far from his daughter out in the open as people scattered, tripping over themselves.

You were rushing toward her, no thoughts for yourself as you tried to close the distance. She was running as fast as she could toward you, her hands held out as tears fell from her eyes. She was so scared, it was palpable. Fear a thick blanket of tension over the entire street. As soon as she was close enough, you were gripping her tight and pulling her into you, turning your back on the man firing into the panicking crowd.

Pain blossomed at the base of your spine.

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taglist: @tanzthompson @clevergirl74 @sullyosully @bitchwitch1981 @anoverwhelmingdin

[romanarose]

For The Longest Time Masterlist

William Miller x Fem!Oc (Lorelei Giang)

Summery: Lorelei can’t seem to shake him. For months, she runs into the handsome older Miller brother, and never intentionally. Jaded distrusting, she avoids getting close to him. However, when she needs him, he’s there to give her a place to stay. A proud, independent nurse with of love of silver screen cinema, she can’t help fall for the kind soldier. Still, she thinks it’s best to keep her distance; men have only ever been disappointing if not downright harmful… until one night, the loneliness is swallowing and she caves, allowing Will to treat her right for a night… just one night, right?

Takes place in the Romana TFverse after Leather and Laci and Take Your Time but it is NOT necessary to read. This will act as a stand along and any needed information will be provided. However, things like relationships progressing, friendships, etc will have more meaning if you read the others (esp LaL)

General warnings and major themes include (but not limited to): Death of an abusive parent, parental abandonment, eating disorder (largely in recovery but still a battle as anyone whose been through it knows), unplanned pregnancy, getting together, trust issues, domestic violence, child abuse (none shown just mentioned), alcoholism and addiction from the side character, mentions of sex traffic and sexual abuse but no details, obsessive compulsive disorder

Chapter 1: Lorelei meets Benjamin Miller’s older brother and is not impressed…. Yet she finds herself obsessing enough to stalk him through high school year books.

Chapter 2: Lorelei and Will spend the night together; Lorelei unexpectedly meets one of Will's friends.

Chapter 3: Will and Lorelei make a choice on the baby. Lorelei meets the rest of Wills friends.

Chapter 4: A beach day to celebrate Rosie's birthday eases some tensions and reveals others

Chapter 5: At the funeral, Will and Lorelei find common ground.

Chapter 6: Will and Lorelei find out what they are having.

Chapter 7: Ben is in trouble, and Lorelei is able to be there for both her Miller boys.

Bonus Chapter: Because of you: Lorelei finds her dad again, but it only sets her and Will back.

Chapter 8, part 1: It’s time for the ball. There’s some ups and downs for everyone. Jana is a queen

Chapter 8, part 2: Confessions and fucking.

Chapter 9: Happy announcements turn into arguments. Alice’s true colors are revealed.

Bonus Chapter: Scenes: POV of everyone in the two weeks between the bar incident and the wedding

Finale: Garcia-Dumas wedding, Lorelei solidifies her place in the family.

Enjoy, my friends!

[rimunagenius]

Lucky

Pairing: Will ‘Ironhead’ Miller x F!reader , Benny Miller x Frankie Morales x Santiago Garcia x F!reader

Warning: angst! , mentions of divorce (reader and ex husband (Garrett) yes i did this on purpose) , foul language (like very derogatory terms used against reader) , and overload of Will x reader fluff!

Word count: 4.1k words!!

Summary: You found out your husband cheated, abandoned you and your guys’ baby for your bestfriend. Your best boys are their to comfort you through the nasty breakup.

Note: I absolutely loved the idea of the reader having a baby and being a single mom (mainly bc i’m not a fan of together parents [based from my experience]) because i would be able give most of the men in the movie a good ending they didn’t get other than Frankie. Frankie got his baby and the others just exist and the ending leaves very little to the imagination so i like the found family dynamic (BUT THIS IS STILL BEFORE THE EVENTS THAT OCCURED IN COLOMBIA). I also really want to explore the reader and Wills relationship further maybe? Idk lmk what you guys think.

***

Numb.

That’s how you would describe the pain you felt—couldn’t feel, as you lie on the floor of your bathroom. Your chest felt like a ton of bricks had been piled on, one after another and the weight was ruthless as you tried to intake a breath.

You didn’t know what you did, why it happened, or what went wrong that caused the feelings to change. Why her? What did she have that you didn’t?

You ran through every scenario in your head, replaying every moment and words exchanged with him. What made him so unhappy in this relationship. You had a baby with him for god sakes. It didn’t change the fact that he left both of you. You and Tatum. Your 7 month old baby.

You don’t know when you ended up on the floor, when you decided that it was all too much that you took solace in the one area you haven’t cleaned in 2 weeks. It was gross. You were gross—felt gross. You couldn’t remember anything that happened in the last 72 hours other than getting up to feed your baby and go to the bathroom on a continuous cycle. You had ignored everyone’s calls. Either sending them straight to voicemail or just listening to the phone ring.

Frankie called and asked why you, your husband—soon to be ex husband, and Tatum missed the cookout Friday night. Benny calling because you missed his fight, the one you promised you’d make this time, the one they had the celebratory cookout for. Santi had the same reason as Frankie. Everyone was worried sick. You haven’t responded to any text and calls and that was unlikely behavior on your part.

Will didn’t know what to do. He had called and texted, a numerous amount of times. He even showed up to your house, knocking and waiting by the door for almost an hour when the guys called him and said you hadn’t responded to them either.

Will was your best friend. You’ve known him just as long as Benny. The Millers being your bestfriends since you were kids. They introduced you to their friends once they all decided to leave the Army. You soon became apart of their found family.

But Will, your the closest to. You were the same age, leaving an age gap to the youngest Miller, that’s why you got along and closer to Will; but you didn’t love and adore Benny any less. As all the guys’ failed attempts at trying to figure out what was going on, you just repeated the same endless cycle.

Get up. Feed the baby. Change the baby. Bathe the baby. Go to the bathroom. Put baby to sleep. Wallow in self pitty. Go to sleep. Get up. Feed the baby. Change the baby. Bathe the baby. Go to the bathroom. Put baby to sleep. Wallow in self pitty. Go to sleep. All day for the last three days.

So you lay there, on the bathroom floor, Tatum asleep in her bouncer right next to you. You brought her in here when you had to leave the room to vomit as you couldn’t handle being you. You being so sick of yourself since it was was easy for him, your husband of 4 years, boyfriend of 6, to leave—cheat on you like all those memories, the baby you both made together, was nothing.

You decided to jump in the shower, not having showered in days. The warm water felt good on your skin, refreshing. All you could do was stand there. Enjoy the water washing away the sweat, tears, touch of everything you’ve experienced in the last 2 weeks. Washing away his touch. The lingering cheek kiss, side waist hug as he was leaving for ‘lunch with his boss’ so they could ‘talk about a promotion.’

You bet sex with Samantha, talking about him leaving to move in and to continue having a relationship while breaking the heart of the one they both were supposed to love most was fan-fucking-tastic.

As you finished washing your hair and body, even shaving your legs because you needed to feel clean, new, Tatum cried. Hopping out you wrapped your towel around yourself and bent down to place her pacifier back in her mouth. Her cries dying slowly and her eyes lulled to a close again.

Picking up the bouncer you walked back to your room, and put on your sleep shorts and oversized T shirt and took Tatum to the living room. Setting her in her bassinet that you bought last week for the living room, you grabbed the throw blanket that was on the couch and cover your legs as the TV played ‘Love Island’.

Wow, great choice for a time like this. God really loves me today, doesn’t he? You couldn’t help but let the tears that were in a relentless battle with your self control, roll down your face. It was just so hard to let go of all the memories. The years that you spent loving the man that you thought was the love of your life, but ended up being the love of your ex bestfriends’.

Brushing your hair behind your ears, a knock at your door interrupted your tears. Sighing, grateful you had closed the blinds and your car had been parked in the garage, so it wasn’t noticeable that you were home, you sat and waiting for whoever thought you were home, would give up and go home. You should’ve known better.

After ten minutes, the knocking continued and you growing annoyed, got up to answer. Your wet hair, dampening your shirt as you totally disregarded putting it up. “What the fuck, man.” You said as you approached the door, hoping whoever was there, heard.

You have a shocked look across your face as you find Frankie standing at your door, flowers and chocolates in hand. You sigh, a sad smile reaching your lips as you reach up to hug your best friend. “Hi, Frankie.” Tears fell down your face and Frankie was already worried but seeing the disheveled look you had and the sadness in your usually happy-lit eyes, his smile and emotions dropped. Seeing you sad made him sad.

He hugged you back, tighter and just held you. Didn’t ask any questions. As you let go you took the flowers and allowed him inside, but as you were shutting the door, three more people came barreling towards you.

“Wait, we’re here too.” Benny.

“Wait don’t close it, cariño.” Santi.

“We came too.” Will.

You fought the tears as you tried to smile as your boys flowed through the door as you let them. “Just be quiet, Tatum hasn’t been sleeping well.” As if on cue, Tatum started crying. That’s when you snapped. All the small tears and sniffles turned into loud sobs as the cycle began all over again.

You shut and locked the door before pushing past the guys, who all watched you in sadness as you couldn’t stop sobbing as you picked up your daughter and just held her as you wished she would just stay asleep. “Lemme take her from you. Uncle Benny has missed his partner in crime.” Benny walked over, taking off his hat and setting it on the coffee table, and swooped Tatum out of your arms.

You sighed as you sat on the couch and rested your head in your hands. It was so overwhelming, all of it.

“What happened, cariño.” Santi asked as he sat in the love seat in your living room. His question only prompted more tears and cries. You couldn’t hold it in anymore. You spent the last three days numb because you had to be strong for Tatum. You couldn’t let yourself spiral. Now that the guys were here, you couldn’t help it.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, sweetheart. Just breathe.” Will kneeled infront of you, removing your hands from your face, replacing one with a hand of his own against one of your cheeks.

“He left.” Was all you could say. Croak, actually. You couldn’t speak as more sobs threatened to tear from your throat.

“Who? Garret?” Frankie asked, already having a strong idea as to what went down. He never liked Garret, never trusted him either. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t already mad.

“Yeah. He went out for lunch ‘with his boss to talk about some promotion at the firm’, but he actually met up with Samantha.” You wiped the tears from your eyes. Meaning to put air quotes around the words, confirming Frankie’s suspicions. You sniffled, grimacing at the sound as you were super congested from the crying you’ve been doing for the last 72 hours. It was fucken awful.

“That fucken bastard.” Benny and Santiago said together.

“He was a piece of shit, anyways.” Will mumbled as he pulled your head into his shoulder as he hugged you, remaining on his knees infront of you.

“I never liked him. Just thought i’d say that up front right now.” Frankie raised his hand.

“He didn’t even come back. He hasn’t come back and I sure as hell hope he doesn’t for the sake of him wanting to keep his manhood.” You sighed into Wills shoulder, eliciting a chuckled from the guys, including you. Surprisingly. “I found out by Samanthas roommate Nina, who by the way knew they had been fucking for 2 months now. She only told me because her and Sam got into an argument about the rent like a week ago. Samantha has been texting me non-stop about how sorry she is but he hasn’t messaged me once.” You pulled away from Will and looked at all the guys in the room. You were so grateful for these men. Your safe place, your support system, your home when yours didn’t feel like it anymore.

“Good. Cause if he calls, he’s not gonna hear the end of it from the Millers, and won’t be able to cheat on anyone when me and Frankie are done with him. Shit, he won’t be alive once the Millers jump in.” Santiago said as he turned his attention to the TV, noticing the Love Island playing. Turning the TV off immediately, not thinking it suit the moment.

You smiled softly, your sad smile returning as you wiped the stray tears. “Hi, baby! How’s my favorite niece!” You heard Benny as he was suddenly made aware of Tatums awake state as she grabbed at his stubble. She loved touching all the guys facial hair. You never understood it but whenever one of them was holding her, her hand was always on their face.

“Hey, dickhead! She’s not the only niece you have.” Frankie reminded Benny of his own kid, earning a groan from Benny.

“Dude she’s not even born yet. When she is, they’ll both be my favorite princesses in the world. Fun Uncle Benny is gonna be their favorite.”

Frankie nodded his head, rolling his eyes at Benny’s save. The room went silent as your phone rang, and the picture and called ID was on display to everyone.

“Fuck no.” Benny immediately said. “Shit! Aw damn! Jeez, sorry.” He immediately apologized for his language. Aware how you felt about the guys cursing around Tatum.

“Don’t answer it.” Will said, as you picked up your phone. All the guys protested but you didn’t care. You answered.

“What?” Your sadness immediately being replaced by anger and betrayal as he just now decided to call.

“What the fuck is your problem!? Your ignoring Sammy? She didn’t do anything to you.” Garret yelled over the phone at you.

What a fucken idiot.

“Im sorry, WHAT!? Your going to call me to bitch and moan about how im ignoring the woman you cheated on me with!? Your unbelievable.” You got up, all the men stood up with you.

“Im unbelievable!? Your just a self centered bitch who didn’t see that I was unhappy in our marriage! Jesus Christ! You were so fucking boring,” Garret said your name with such distaste and anger. It shocked you. Suddenly you didn’t feel mad, you felt sad and worthless again. The boys didn’t waste no time in jumping in.

“Hey, man. Watch your damn mouth.” Will said from next to you. The calmness in his voice was scary. It always was. The way he stayed calm during duress situations was scarier than him yelling.

“Mhnmhn.” Frankie shook his head from where he was standing.

“Earmuffs Tatum. Im gonna fucking kill him.” Benny whispered looking up. No matter how little Benny was, growing up, he protected you—tried to, whenever someone gave you a hard time. He’s done it all his life, and this time was no different. Even with your daughter in his arms.

“Dear god.” Santi rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, what? You have your little bitch dogs with you. I bet your banging all of them, you fucken slut. You always had the hots for Will. Your a whore. This is why I cheated in the first place.” Garret yelled through the phone, Samantha being heard laughing in the back.

“Get your head out of your ass and put your bitch in check. They’re here because they’re helping me take care of your daughter. You know, the one you decided to abandon the minute you fucked another woman?” You cried into the phone. You couldn’t even be angry. All you felt was sadness. Everything hurt. It hurt to cry, to speak, to breathe.

“Look, im sorry. You gotta understand that I wasn’t happy anymore. I’m sorry, baby.”

“You do not get to ‘baby’ me. Your a sad excuse for a man Garret. Jesus.” You decided you didn’t want to just rip at him, you needed to get a rip at Sammy. “Sammy, don’t be sad when you wake up one day when you don’t see Garret in bed with you. He’ll probably get bored of you too, and fuck your roommate. Hell, he’ll fuck the whole complex.” You heard a distant ‘Fuck you’ before you let more tears fall.

“Baby, im sorry.”

“Garret, stop calling me that. We’re done. You don’t get to be nice and ‘baby’ your way out of this. You just finished calling me a slut and a whore!”

“But you get to invite all your men over!? How could you do that to me?”

“How could you cheat on me with my bestfriend!?” You choked back a sob, Will wrapping his arms around your neck from behind, kissing the top of your head.

Garret said your name, just above a whisper. “I never meant to hurt you.”

Your voice soft, tired, of speaking when all you want to do is cry. You did just that, cry as you got your final words out. “It doesn’t really matter, Garret. Cause in the end it all hurts the same. I’m done. I’m done with you, your little whore and your not coming back home. Expect divorce papers at the door of your house—oh, im sorry, your mistress’ house, in two weeks. Fuck you, man!”

“Can I atleast get my-“ You didn’t give him to finish his sentence as you hung up, unleashing all your pent up rage, sadness and overall overexertion. You turned your body into Wills, allowing him to hug you as you cry into his favorite hoodie. He doesn’t even care that his forearms of his sleeves are getting damp from your still undried hair, and his chest growin damp from your tears.

Benny, Frankie, and Santiago all joined in on the hug as you just cried. They knew there was nothing they could say or do but just hold you while you let it all out.

These were your guys, and nothing would change the way you would always be grateful to them.

Your boys, your safe place, your support system, your home when yours didn’t feel like home anymore.

***

Will had made dinner for all you guys. You all sat at the table and ate together, Benny not letting go of Tatum once. She already had her uncle wrapped around her finger.

For the most part you guys ate quietly, and just talked about what you missed the last three days before apologizing that you had missed it all. None of them held it against you, understandably so. They talked about their work and what they’ve been up to and what they have going on, not touching on your situation any longer than they had to. You didn’t want ‘im sorry’s you just wanted to hang out with your friends. You didn’t want to feel sad anymore.

Not long after you all ate, you went and laid on the couch in bewteeen Will and Benny. You were leaning on Benny, curled into his side while Frankie sat on the other side of him and Will by your feet. You don’t remember much of what you were watching as you were in and out of sleep. Sleep that you haven’t been able to properly get as it was just you and Tatum. An insomniac baby is bound to catch up to you later. All you knew you had put on your favorite rom com but just didn’t remember exactly what part you were watching.

It wasn’t long before the built, muscled, and toned side of Bennys frame, turned into the soft cuddly teddy bear that was his personality. Long before you could fight the sleep until the guys left, your eyes closed and you fell asleep.

You had convinced the guys to watch your favorite rom-com. It only took you begging them quietly as Tatum fell asleep after you fed her, not wanting to wake her, and dropping the ‘hey, I just asked for a divorce against my cheating husband’ card and it was hard for them to say no to you.

Benny and Will knew that you falling asleep to this movie wasn’t uncommon. You did when it first came out when you were in middle school. The movies nights they let you pick and you’d pick this movie falling asleep around the same time, everytime. How to lose a guy in 10 days just gave you the comfort you needed whenever you felt sad or whenever you just felt like falling hopelessly inlove with the perfect love story.

“Never fails.” Benny chuckled softly, noticing your soft snores into his side.

All the guys looked over to see you knocked out, curled into a tiny ball, wrapped in the small throw blanket. This was a calming and reassuring view for all of them. They’ve never seen you like this before. Sure they have been there ever since they met you and all the old boyfriends who didn’t deserve you, but the way you were today. Sad, betrayed, and angry…was something they hope to never see again.

They love the happy you. The you that jumped up and down whenever you met them at the terminal when they were back on leave. The you that laughed at the most unfunniest jokes because everyone deserves to feel special. The you that your smile brightens up the whole damn room and any of their bad days.

They saw you finally at peace, the most peaceful you of the day. Getting the rest you deserved they all felt successful in their efforts to cheer you up any way they could.

Frankie was the first to get up, putting his hat on. “I gotta head out, my girl is waiting for me.” He hugged all his friends goodnight, stopping at you to give you a kiss on our head. Santiago got up, being that Frankie was his ride. Santiago did the same.

Benny was harder to get up. He didn’t want to disturb the little sleep you have been able to get in the last couple of days, but again, Frankie was his ride. He grabbed a throw pillow next to him, and swiftly and stealthly switched it under your head. Your soft stirring causing all the men to stop breathing and moving, not wanting to disturb you.

Once the coast was clear Benny said bye to his brother and kissed your head softly. He walked over to Tatum and kissed her soft brown hair, covering her better with her blanket.

Will decided to stay the night with you. You had agreed when you sat down to pick the movie while the other guys cleaned up the kitchen after dinner. He offered to help you with his goddaughter so you can get whatever you needed done, out of the way. You appreciated the offer and agreed with open arms to let him stay. Him saying he’ll figure the ride out tomorrow, or whenever you didn’t need his help anymore.

The guys exited the front door, the sound of the truck starting soon disappearing as they pulled out and drove away.

No matter how much Will denied it to everyone, he was a sucker for the cheesy romance movies. He wouldn’t admit it, especially to you. These were your favorite and it was his duty as your bestfriend to deny he likes whatever you like. ‘It’s because im a boy’ he always told you. You thought he was so full of shit. He sat there for twenty minutes watching the movie he’s seen over a thousand times in his lifetime. It seemed to be working whatever magic it had on you and made him so tired. You guys both seemed to swap your liveliness.

Your sleepy state didn’t last long as you opened your eyes and let them wander around the room, as much as you could see, to find the house empty but Will and Tatum.

You sat up, and yawned. “How long was I asleep for?” You look at Will, hopeful that it was enough.

“Like, thirty minutes.” He rubbed his eyes as he yawned. His yawn being a little too loud as it woke Tatum.

You were moving the blanket off of you, getting up to get your daughter when Will beat you to it. “I got her. Sit back down, sweetheart.” You nodded softly your eyes still heavy from being tired.

“When did the guys leave?” You frowned having missed them on their way out. You didn’t say thank you.

“Like twenty minutes ago,” Hey, babygirl. C’mon. I got you.” Will bent over the bassinet, looking at Tatum. He cradled her in his arms. He watched as Tatums cries soon turned into whimpers which then turned into soft cooing. He smiled at her before another yawn escaped his lips.

The movie was still playing quietly, the end almost nearing. The soft background noise pulling you into your sleepy state yet again. You closed your eyes, shoving your arms and legs under the blanket forming a small ball again. The couch dipped next to you as Will filled the space, holding your baby girl.

You didn’t think twice before moving your body the other direction, to face Will before moving closer to his side. He knew what you wanted and he lifted his arm so you can get comfortable against him.

He threw his head back, finally closing his eyes as one arm held Tatum and the other held you against his chest. You couldn’t have been more grateful for this man. You loved him with every bone in your body. You were so glad that you were able to call him your bestfriend. You can count on him when the world let you down again and again.

You looked up at him, touching the side of his face. On contact, he moved his head in your direction, smiling softly as he was met with your eyes, full of happiness again. “Will?”

“Yeah, baby?” Your breath hitched at the nickname he hasn’t used for you in years. Atleast before you met Garrett. You hoped it wasn’t noticeable. Will picked up on everything, very observant, damn you Army.

“Thank you. Your too good to us.” You whispered, looking away from his face, nestling into the crook of his neck as you watched your daughter peacefully sleep in your bestfriends arms.

“Anytime, sweetheart. Anything for my two favorite girls.” He kissed your head, resting his head back on the couch, a small smile on his face as he closed his eyes.

“I love you.” You whispered, closing your eyes too.

“I love you.”

All you could think about was how lucky you and Tatum had been to have a man like this in your life. A man who will move heaven and earth if you asked. How lucky you were to have men as good friends as the guys were to you. You couldn’t ask for a better family to help you raise your baby.

You and Tatum were so lucky.

You were both happy.

***

A/n: I would absolutely love to turn Tatum and the guys relationship into a full series of one-shots. Like little moments as she grows up. I want to create a father-daughter dynamic with Tatum and Will because like i said i want to explore Will x F!reader more!! Maybe along the lines of them growing closer as Tatum grows up because as they figure the whole parenting thing out together, they also find themselves and figure out their relationship as well.

Let me know what you think!!! It would be greatly appreciated!!

[bellofthemeadow]

The Road Ahead - ch 5 | Frankie Morales x female reader

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

For most of your married life, you dedicated yourself to waiting for Frankie. After each deployment, you patiently awaited his return, longing for the moment when he would be by your side again. During those nights when nightmares consumed his thoughts, you yearned for him to open up to you, hoping that he would find solace in sharing his pain. And as his addiction spiraled out of control, you held onto the hope that he would recognize his problem and seek help. However, despite your countless protests and pleas, you now find yourself waiting for him once more as he ventures off to Colombia, engaged in God knows what.

But this time is different. Determined, you make a solemn promise to yourself: You will never wait for Frankie again.

Rating: M for Mature (18 + no minors allowed)

Word Count: 4.3K

Warning: Applicable for the entire fic / PTSD, drug use and addiction, postpartum depression, abusive familial relationships, self-hatred, unhealthy coping mechanism, explicit sexual content, violence, mentions of suicidal thoughts, super angsty

Chapter Summary: An unexpected Sunday morning visit unveils the true meaning of family.

Notes: Hello my lovelies, thank you so much for all the likes and reblogs and comments! I love you all so much <3! Here is new chapter fresh out of the oven, I hope you all enjoy it!! A lovely mix of angst and fluff, exactly as I like it!

Also, I apologize but the next chapter won't come out until later next week as I have some assignments due for the summer semester I am taking at university. After this chapter, I am planning 2 more regular chapters and 1 epilogue.

Let me know what you think, and I hope you are all ready for an extra soft Will Ironhead Miller (Top tier Will Miller imo)

Family

As the door closes behind him, Frankie can hear you sob from inside the house. His first instinct is to turn around, rip the door open, and take you in his arms. He wants to hold you close, apologizes a million more times, and make a thousand promises to you—anything to make you stop crying. He knows he isn't worth your tears. You've always deserved so much more than him. You've given him everything, but all Frankie has given you is pain.

Numbly, Frankie walks toward his truck, his footsteps heavy with all that occurred in the last couple of hours. He mechanically opens the door and sinks into the driver's seat, his gaze fixed ahead toward the house. With tears streaming down his face, he reaches with a trembling hand into his pocket and retrieves his phone, fingers hovering over the familiar buttons.

His heart pounds in his chest as he contemplates dialling the number, knowing that the next few moments could shape the course of his future. The weight of his mistakes and the desire for redemption clash within him, battling for dominance. Taking a deep breath, he musters the courage to press the digits, each number feeling like a heavy decision.

"Catfish? Well, that's a surprise. Good to hear from you, man."

"Pope," he says the name with broken sobs.

"Catfish?! What's going on? Did something happen to the guys?" Pope's voice immediately loses its friendly tone as he switches into military man mode.

Frankie's voice quivers, his words barely holding back the flood of despair that consumes him. "I messed up, Pope," he confesses, his tone broken and defeated. "I messed up big time... with the coke. I couldn't stop myself, no matter how hard I tried. Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!" His frustration erupts.

Pope's tone softens, carrying a blend of compassion and determination. "Alright, Fish. Take a deep breath. You know I’ve got your back, brother. Tell me everything. We'll figure this out together." His words offer a lifeline, a promise of support amidst the chaos that has engulfed Frankie's life in the past hour.

The weight of his failures hangs heavy in the air as Frankie continues, his voice tinged with remorse. "I promised I'd get better, Pope, but I'm so fucking lost. I've ruined the only good thing in my life, and now I’ve got nothing." The room seems to darken as he confesses his deepest failure, his words laden with self-condemnation, “I don't know what to do Pope. I don't know how to claw my way back from that fucking hole we dug ourselves back there!”

“I know that what happened in Columbia was…” Pope begins empathically, but Frankie cuts him off “FUCK COLUMBIA! It's not just about that. I mean, it is about that, but it's more than that. Her and Ella are the best thing that's happened in my life, and I couldn't talk to her. I was so afraid she'd see me as that... as that monster that I became back there, that I ended up becoming that monster with her. Fuck Pope, I brought Coke into my home. Can you believe that!”  Frankie hits the front dash of his car in anger “I BROUGH COKE into the home where I have a baby. The place my wife made into a home for us. How could I do something like? What is wrong with me?!?!"

Silence greets his outburst. Barely audibly, Pope asks, "Where are you right now?"

“I am in my truck, parked in front of my house.” Frankie's voice trembled with helplessness. "Pope, I don't know what to do," he confides, his words echoing the magnitude of his loss as it engulfed him, leaving him adrift in a sea of uncertainty. "Without her and Ella, what am I supposed to do? They are everything to me, my reason for pushing forward. I am nothing without them," Frankie admits, his voice tinged with resignation. The burden of past mistakes, tangled with the relentless hold of addiction and the haunting memories of PTSD, has reduced him to a mere shadow of who he once was.

"I'm just a washed-up coke addict," he confesses, the words carrying a mixture of self-loathing and regret. The image of his own deterioration gnaws at him every day. His grey reflection in the mirror is a constant reminder of the battles he had fought and the battles he had lost. The tendrils of addiction weaved their way into every fibre of his being, leaving him stripped of his former identity.

Pope’s heart breaks, hearing the words of his best friend. His brother. But Santi was always a pragmatic man and effusive shows of emotions were always more of Benny’s realm. "Can you make it to Will? Or Ben.."

"Not Benny."

Tense silence fills the air, "Did something happen?"

"I can't deal with Benny right now, not after... What happened today."

"Alright, are you able to drive yourself to Will?"

"Yes, I should be." Efficient and precise, Frankie resorts to the mode that comes easiest to him.

"Then drive to Will, and I'll meet you there. I'm jumping on the next plane that leaves today

"Pope, wait. What about your girl?"

"Hey, how long have I known you, Catfish?" Pope's voice is filled with unwavering support. "If my brother needs me, I'm going to be there. Besides, most of what happened is my fault. You wouldn't have touched that shit again if it weren't for my dumbass coming up with a shit plan that went to hell."

“Pope, you can't blame yourself for everything. The fuck ups I caused in my marriage and the fucking coke aren’t your fault. Those are my crosses to bear. But I appreciate you being there for me, brother. It means more than you know."

There's a brief pause on the other end of the line, as Pope takes a deep breath before speaking again. "Listen, Catfish, I can't change what happened, but I can promise you this: we'll do whatever it takes to make things right. We'll find a way to fix this mess, for you, for your lady and for your family. You're not alone in this, brother."

"Pope..."

"Don't say anything. Drive to Will, and I'll see you as soon as I can. Understood?"

"Roger. Pope?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

"It's the least I could do. I know how much you love your lady. And you know how it goes with us, we leave no man behind."

1 week later

You had always been more inclined toward solitude. Even as a child, you found solace in playing alone with your dolls in your room, rather than engaging with your siblings. It wasn't as if your brothers had any desire for you to join their activities. With their significant age gap, they viewed you as an everyday nuisance at best or, at worst, the cause of all their problems. Your mother's words still lingered in your mind at times: "Sorry, boys, we can't afford a vacation this summer. Money is tight with the extra kid." "Sorry, boys, you'll have to share a room because your sister is a girl.” “Sorry boys, your sister needs to go on a diet so we can’t have cookies in the house, otherwise she’d pig out on them.” These constant barbs had shaped your life and fueled resentment from your three older brothers. Even to this day, they seldom reached out to you. When you got married to Frankie, the eldest didn't even bother attending, despite RSVPing for his wife and five kids. Your mother simply glanced at you and remarked, "Well, what do you expect? It's just a backyard wedding. No reason for your brother to disrupt his life.”

So yeah, you never minded being on your own. But, as you reflect on your years with Frankie, you realize that you had become unaccustomed to being alone. Although you were physically independent for most of your relationship, mentally and emotionally, Frankie was always there with you, sharing your life in the deepest and most meaningful way. But now, you find yourself truly alone in a way you haven't experienced in a long time. Frankie is not here, and you're uncertain if you should allow him to linger in your emotions. If it weren't for Ella, you don't know how you would cope. You feel like an automaton, mechanically going through each day's motions: waking up, feeding Ella, tending to yourself if time allows, taking Ella next door, going to work, completing your shift, returning home, feeding Ella once more, putting her to bed, pumping milk, squeezing in dinner if you're not dozing off on your feet, taking a shower, and going to bed. Then Ella would surely wake up at least 4 times during the night. As if your peanut could feel your distress and the absence of her father.

You had briefly considered taking a second job after Frankie's departure until you noticed the usual pension deposit from the army. While not a significant amount, it would be sufficient to sustain you and Ella without needing to work two jobs. Tears had welled up as you realized Frankie hadn't cancelled the deposit. Right after that thought, guilt had set in for even entertaining the thought that Frankie would do anything to harm Ella. You tried to convince yourself that Frankie had made that choice for the sake of Ella's well-being and preferred not to let your mind wander into other possibilities. And what they would mean for you and for you-and-Frankie. Better not to dwell on them, you think.

But today was Sunday, a day meant for being at home with Ella. Normally, Frankie would be by your side, flipping pancakes in the kitchen while cradling Ella and singing along to the radio. His singing voice might have been terrible, but you adored it, just like everything else about him. Once again, you suppress the budding regret that has threatened to take root within you multiple times over the past week. You couldn't allow it to grow and taint the decision you had made. It was the right decision—for yourself and for Ella. It was also the right choice for Frankie. He deserved a chance to heal, and you know that you were no longer fit to help him in that journey.

As you held Ella to your chest, she began to fuss. You cooed softly, and miraculously, she settled down, closing her eyes and nuzzling against your upper breast. With a smile, you planted a gentle kiss on her soft, fuzzy head, whispering, "Papa and I love you, my little peanut."

Suddenly, three soft knocks interrupt your tender moment with Ella. Glancing at the clock, it reads 8:15 am. Your heart skips a beat. Frankie? You can’t help but wonder. Carefully, you place Ella in her portable pram and quietly position it next to the couch.

Hurriedly, you make your way to the door and swing it open. "Will? Is everything okay? Is Frankie all right?" you gasp, trying to catch your breath.

Will looks at you with a sad smile. "I'm sorry for disturbing you so early on a Sunday. I don't think we should have this discussion in your doorway. Do you mind if I come in?"

Your grip tightens around the doorknob as anxiety courses through you. "Will, please," you pleaded. Seeing the desperation in your eyes, Will's expression softens. He extends his hand and places it gently on your shoulder. "Fish is okay," he reassures you.

Relieved, you let out a shuddering breath and open the door a bit wider. "Come in," you say softly.

Will steps into your house, and he hesitantly asks, "Should I take off my shoes?"

"It's alright. I need to vacuum later today," you explain awkwardly. Will hums in understanding.

"Would you like coffee?" you offer. "If that's not too much trouble, I'd appreciate it. Thank you."

"It's no trouble. I have a pot going. I always make enough for me and..." You stop yourself, clearing your throat and suppressing your tears. "I always make enough for two."

Will smiles sadly, expressing his thanks once again.

Pouring a second cup of coffee, you join Will at the kitchen counter. After a minute, he speaks up. "Ella seems well," he offers.

"She's doing alright, as best as she can be. She decided to be a little angel this morning, so you chose very well," you reply with a small smile.

"And how is work treating you? Do you need any help around this place? Benny and I could lend a hand if you need anything—mow your lawn or fix screws here and there," Will offered.

"Thank you, Will. That's really kind of you. If something comes up, you'll be the first to know," you respond. A moment passes before you ask, "Is this why you're here, Will?"

Will sighs softly, taking a long sip of his coffee. "I guess there's no beating around the bush. First, I wanted to apologize for Benny's behaviour last time. He was way out of line, putting himself where he shouldn't have. I apologize."

"It's okay. I was angry, but not at you or Benny," you assure him.

"Regardless, this should have been a private conversation, not one held in a bar," Will admits. You fix him with a soft smile. "Thanks, Will."

"I came for two reasons. And, yes, before you ask, both concern Fish," Will begins, his gaze shifting towards Ella, who remains thankfully quiet in her pram. "Fish checked himself into rehab on Friday morning."

A gasp escapes your lips. "He did? By himself?" It was almost hard to believe. The possibility had been discussed before, especially after he lost his license. You had thought that seeking in-care help would be the best course of action. However, Frankie had been resistant, insisting that he could quit on his own. He didn't want to be separated from you, especially during your pregnancy, and felt he couldn't be away from you during such a crucial time. Reluctantly, you accepted his decision, believing it was the right choice since Frankie had managed to stay away from cocaine. Or so you had thought, until a month ago.

"And... is he alright? How was he?" you ask, concern evident in your voice.

Will looks pensive. "It was tough, not gonna lie. Pope flew in from Australia the day after... after the memorial. I think Fish called him. I wasn't there when Pope arrived, but whatever he said, it got through to Fish. The night after the bar, after it all went down, Fish crashed on my couch, and... Look, are you sure you want me to tell you? I don't want to make you uncomfortable or make you feel like any of this is your fault. For what it's worth, I think you showed remarkable patience, more than most people would have. None of what happened was your fault— What happens in the field, when we are out there fighting some enemy, really messes with the best of us. And Fish, well, he was always the most sensitive among us. He never meant, he never wanted to hurt you. But in the end, it happened, and I know he despises himself for it. He used to walk around the base, showing your picture to everyone, telling them how lucky he was to have his soulmate waiting for him at home. And you know… Shit, sorry, I don't mean to make you feel sad."

A small, teary laugh escapes you at Will's words. You reach for a tissue, dabbing at your eyes. "It's okay, Will. I want to know what's happening, for my own peace of mind."

"If you are sure, then alright. But stop me if ever it gets too much. So, when Fish got to my place that night, he must have cried from the moment he stepped into my apartment until Pope arrived. They went for a drive, and when they returned, Fish wasn't crying anymore. He looked me in the eyes and, honestly, that was the most transparent I’ve seen him be in a long time, he said: 'I am checking myself into rehab. I am getting my shit together for Ella and for my wife. That's what matters, nothing else,'" Will recounts.

You gnaw anxiously at your bottom lip, your eyes shifting to Ella. "He really said all that?" you inquire, seeking confirmation.

"Affirmative," Will responds. “You’re such a dork, you know that, Will Miller?” You snort at his overly formal answer.

Will smiles before his gaze turns to a now fussy Ella. "He left you with these as well," he adds, reaching into his old brown leather bag that had been resting at his feet since his arrival. With care, he retrieves an envelope and what appears to be a... recorder? Memories of your university days flood your mind, recalling how you used a similar device to record your professors' voices during lectures. "Those are ancient," you can't help but think, considering how iPhones have now made them somewhat obsolete.

"What's all that?" you ask, curiosity piqued.

"That," Will says, gently pushing the envelope toward you, "is a letter Fish wrote for you. He said you should open it when you feel ready."

You accept the envelope with trembling hands, fixing Will with an uneasy look. "Do you know... Do you know what's in it?" you inquire, seeking any insight Will could provide you with.

"I'm afraid I don't," Will responds with a sincere expression. "Fish wouldn't say. He was really secretive about it. He made me promise not to open it before giving it to you, as if I would do that. He said it's for your eyes only and that you would understand why he wrote to you."

"Frankie and I used to write letters to each other for years," you reveal to Will. "Even when he came back for good, we continued writing letters. It was our way of showing we cared. But we stopped writing them... It must have been around the time we realized I was pregnant with Ella."

"Then maybe Frankie wanted to show you that he still cared," Will cautiously suggests. "Maybe he wants to demonstrate that he wants to move forward, and that letter is the first step."

"Should I open it now?" you ponder aloud.

"Fish was adamant that you open it in your own time. If it takes you a year, he said he'd wait for you," Will explains.

You close your eyes briefly, but Ella's little scream pierces the room's silence, prompting you to rise and gather her in your arms. With a smile, you softly rock her. "Well, someone's a fussy lady," you comment, nuzzling her nose. Then, you turn Ella around to face Will. "Look who's here, peanut! It's your Uncle Will!"

Will smiles warmly as you approach with Ella, who continues to fuss in your arms. He makes some faces at her, and Ella seems enchanted by her handsome uncle. You settle back down in front of him, gently rocking Ella as you resume your conversation.

You gesture toward the other item in front of you and inquire, "What about the recorder?"

Will smiles gently before reaching for it and pressing play. "Hola Estrelita," Frankie's voice resonates from the small device, causing you to freeze in place. "I hope you're being good for your mama. You know how much she loves you. I love you so much, mi corazon. Papa loves you bigger than all the stars in the universe because you are Papa's favourite star!"

Tears stream down your face as Ella's fussing ceases, and she looks at you with curious eyes, as if silently asking, "Papa?"

"Frankie recorded around two hours of his voice on there. He said it was for Ella, so she wouldn't forget his voice while he was at... while he was away," Will explains. "You know how sentimental that old fish can be."

Overwhelmed with emotions, you struggle to find the right words as the recording momentarily stops, then resumes with Frankie's voice saying, "Hey Ella, mi amor..." In a rush, you press the stop button, needing a moment to collect yourself.

"This rehab... How long is it?" you finally manage to ask. "Frankie wouldn't have recorded 2 hours’ worth of content if it were just for a two-week stint, would he?"

Will takes a deliberate sip from his coffee, his gaze thoughtful, before he responds, "It's a four-month program. No outside contact for the first three."

You close your eyes, feeling a surge of anxiety as you tighten your grip on Ella. Sensing your unease, she pouts unhappily in your arms. "Four months? That... That's really long," you express, your voice filled with concern.

"It is," Will acknowledges, his tone understanding. "Frankie wants to make it stick. He doesn't want to half-ass it. When he sees you and Ella again, he wants to be worthy of you both. He wants to be worthy of this family."

"Is that what he told you?" you inquire, searching for clarity.

"His exact words," Will affirms, extending his hands towards you and placing them gently on your forearm. "Look, I know Frankie better than he knows himself. We served together for more than 10 years, and I genuinely consider him as another brother. But as much as I love him, I can see when Frankie is going down the deep end, just like I know you can. I guess we're all guilty of letting Frankie fall too far. We've always been accustomed to Frankie being the quiet, responsible one, so when he can't cope, we don't know how to help. But..."

"Will, please, you and the guys can't carry all that burden. I am his wife," you sniffle, your voice trembling. "I am his wife, and he has never come to me for anything. I thought I could help him heal, but I couldn't. It was my one job as his wife to take care of him. I even told myself that on the day we got married, you know," your voice wavers as you try to steady yourself for Ella's sake. "I told myself, 'You're going to care for that beautiful, kind man and you are going to make a home for him; he's been through enough.' Now tears stream down your face as you try to hide in Ella's tiny neck. "I couldn't help him, Will. I couldn't help him."

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor fills the room as Will makes his way around the table. He sits down next to you, pulling you close and wrapping his strong arm around you. "Come on, honey, let it all out. I'll hold you for as long as you need," Will says gently. And cry you do, releasing the pent-up stress, anger, and sadness of the past months, dissolving into Will's embrace. He remains sturdy, as he always has, holding you tightly while making sure not to disturb Ella, who rests quietly between the two of you. As you cry, Will softly hums, and strokes your upper back. Will has always felt more like a brother to you than your actual brothers. His love and kindness aren't contingent on anything. He is simply kind and understanding and oh-so wise. These days men like him, men who really listen are a rare breed. You know you can cry in front of Will without any judgment. In moments like this, when everything is dark and engulfing, it feels like the most precious gift to be heard and to be seen.

When your tears begin to subside, Will continues quietly. "Fish didn’t talk to you because he loves you," you can’t help but scoff at his words, but Will continues, steadfast as ever. "Now, wait, listen. I'm not saying it's right, or that Fish couldn't have handled things better. What I'm saying is that the things we've seen, the things we've done—it changes a man. The person we become out there, it's not the kind of person we want to bring back home. It's not someone we want to show to the ones we love. And you know Fish, he was never very good with words. But I do know one thing: Frankie loves you more than anything." Will lifts your head gently, meeting your teary eyes. "Fish made a lot of mistakes, and I'm not excusing any of them. It was unfair to us and unfair to you and Ella. But I know Fish, and you know Fish. I'm not saying you have to give him another chance once he's out of rehab.” Will continues

"All I'm saying is that it's really hard for people like us, and I know that even if you can't take him back, he will never regret striving to better himself for your and Ella’s sake" Will assures you. "And know that whatever you decide to do in 4 months, or in 6 months, or in a year, you'll have me and Benny in your corner, alright? We won't let shit go too far this time around. Yes Frankie will have us, but you'll also have us. We'll take care of you, and while Frankie is gone, Benny and I will hold down the fort. You won't be alone in this, I promise you."

His words wrap around you like a comforting embrace, offering solace and support. The weight on your shoulders feels a little lighter knowing that you have Will and Benny by your side. You glance up at Will, gratitude shining through your tear-streaked eyes.

"Thank you, Will," you whisper, your voice filled with emotion. "Thank you for being here, for understanding, and for taking care of us. I don't know what we would do without you."

Will's grip tightens around you, his voice filled with sincerity. "You don't have to thank me, sis. We're family, and family looks out for each other. We've got your back, no matter what. We'll weather this together."

As you nestle back into his comforting embrace, a flicker of hope begins to burn within you. Maybe, just maybe, with Will and Benny's support, you can find the strength to face the uncertain future and make the best decisions for yourself, Ella and for Frankie.

Next chapter

[theunbearableweightofpedropascal]

Be my Baby ch. 6

Warnings: (angst)

A/N: Sorry in advance.

Word Count: 3.9k

A few days after your beloved pizza party you finally met another member from the army photo. Santiago Garcia walked into the garage with an air about him that alerted you how well-acquainted he was with women. He was absolutely beautiful but he was the exact man you prided yourself on staying away from. Though being in a situationship with a married man wasn’t much better. 

“Hi, welcome to Miller’s Motors how may I help you?” Your customer service voice and smile instantly take over. 

“I mean I wouldn’t mind just hanging out here with you until one of those jackasses come out here.” His dazzling smile is working overtime while he leans on the counter and you can’t help the laugh that emitted from you. 

“Okay, Mr. Garcia suit yourself.” Back on your ‘work’ computer, you opened the Twitter tab again and continued scrolling. 

“Just how attached to Catfish are you or are you still looking at other options?” While Santi frames his question as flirty, he wants to see how you feel about Frankie. 

“Catfish?” Unsure of how you should answer you counter his question with one of your own.

“It’s his callsign from our army days. Mine is Pope, Will is Ironhead, and Frankie is Catfish.” All the tidbits you find out about Frankie make him so much more interesting.

“Okay but why is he Catfish? And what about Benny?” The other callsigns seem to align with personality, except for Frankie’s.

“Well he always had trouble growing his beard and he had a reputation with the ladies at training camp, thus the birth of Catfish.” You can’t say you’re surprised by Frankie’s past discretions, he had to learn that from somewhere. “As for Benny he came much later so we never really thought about it.” 

“Well, what about Goldilocks? I think that suits him, especially because he would go into someone's house and eat their food without a second thought.” Your analysis of Benny’s callsign has Santiago burst into laughter at how right you are. 

“And he definitely would talk about how bad the food is after scarfing it all down.” The both of you are now loudly laughing in the empty lobby like you’ve known each other for years.

“Pope step away from my receptionist.” William is the first through the door and he playfully narrows his eyes at Santi from behind you. 

“Benny we found a callsign for you, how does Goldilocks sound?” At the mention of the name, you and Santi laugh in remembrance of your jokes. Despite the inside joke, Benny looks pleased. 

“How is it that I’ve known you asshole’s years and she’s the one to come up with a callsign for me?” Benny’s large arms swarm around you to hug you in appreciation. 

“I mean we had some names but you wouldn’t like it.” William nudges Frankie in jest with a smirk plastered on his face.

“You know for such a quiet man you are so sassy.” Your words cause a roar of laughter from the group of men and you take that as your cue to take a nice long lunch break. 

……..

“Bitch,” Hearing the drawn-out exemplative from your best friend over the phone brought a smile to your face. Either you were going to hear the juiciest gossip or Dante just proposed, “If you could see this fucking ring I have on right now.” 

“Finally, I’ve been waiting 40 days and 40 nights for this.” There was no one rooting for Ronnie's happiness as much as you. 

“Before we even get into this wedding stuff you’re gonna be my Maid of Honor right?” The sentence tumbled out so quickly that if you listen so well you might’ve missed it. 

“Of course, what cake do you think you’re gonna get?” You take a bite of your caser salad while you listen to her rattle off her top 5 flavors. With a simple hum every couple of seconds while she gets all her excited rambles out.

“Shit, let me call my parents so they think they’re the first people I called.” A goofy smile graces your face at the fact that you were the first person she called. 

“Okay, text me when you’re gonna be free for a sleepover so we can go through the actual details. Love you.” You end your sentence with an exaggerated kiss that she would hear on the other end. 

“It’ll probably be Friday or Saturday but I’ll know for sure by tonight. Love you bye.” Her exaggerated kiss was the last thing you heard before the line cut out. 

It’s been about an hour and a half since you left for your lunch break and Ameilia has been keeping you company intermittently. A slightly disappointed sigh leaves your lips when you’ve taken the last bite of your salad realizing you’ll have to get back to work. When you leave your cash on the table you make sure you tip a little extra since Ameilia snuck you two pieces of berry pie. 

Upon re-entering the lobby you find Santiago behind the front, seemingly taking your place for the long break. He’s focused completely on the computer in front of him and by the time you round the corner, it’s too late for him to close the window. 

“Plenty of Fish? I took you as more of a Tinder kind of guy.” The side eye you receive from him makes it hard for you to cover your smile. 

Before he can say a smart comeback the phone blares and you set your pie on the counter to answer. 

“Miller’s Brother Automotive, how may I help you?” The cheeriness of your voice makes you grimace. 

“Hello, this is Nurse Lauren calling from Lake Montessori. I’ve been trying to get ahold of Rosie’s father Fransico Morales and he listed this number as his work contact.”

“Of course, he’s in the garage can you hold for a moment?” Without waiting for her answer you head to the garage to summon Frankie. 

“The nurse for your daughter’s school is on the phone asking for you.” As soon as he hears it’s about Rosie he’s walking faster than you to get back to the phone. 

“Hello, this is Fransico Morales.” You can see the tension in his shoulders trying to figure out why the school is calling him. Both you and Santi scroll through his dating profile while he talks on the phone. 

After presumably finding the reason for the call his shoulders deflate and he utters a faint “Jesus,”

“I see, I can be there in about 15 minutes.” There’s a slight pause before he says, “Take care.” 

When the phone hits the hook he heaves an irritated sigh before turning to you and Santi. “Apparently Rosie’s stomach was bugging her since she got to school and she ended up throwing up on the playground. Maria was the one to drop her off and they tried calling her but she wasn’t picking up.”

“So she knew she was sick when she dropped her off?” Irritation is written all over Santiago’s face and voice.

“Seems that way because there’s no way Rosie wouldn’t say anything. So fucking irresponsible.” Frankie grits the last sentence out before heading to the back to wash his hands properly. When he comes back out with clean hands and a more patient face he stops by you. 

“We should be back in like 15 minutes.” He slightly bends to kiss your forehead before heading out the front door. Santiago wolf-whistles when it’s just the two of you but you roll your eyes.

After 5 minutes Will and Benny come inside to ask what happened and there’s no time wasted by Santiago to fill them in. You head to the break room to see what would be helpful to a sick kid. Luckily Benny has a collection of tea and you take out peppermint and some sugar. 

You pop your head out only to see them huddled together and gossiping like school girls.

“Hey, are there any pillows or blankets in the back offices?” Each of them turns to you with wide eyes before Benny tells you he has some in his office. When you come back out you place the brown blanket on the sofa closet to the garage door and prop the pillow on the armrest. 

The guys can’t help but watch and exchange looks as you make the area cozy for Rosie. You beat them to it. Looking at the time you head back into the break room to heat water for the tea. By the time you come back out with the steaming tea, Frankie is laying Rosie down on the sofa and the guys are circling her. 

“I made some peppermint tea and I think I have some cough drops in my purse.” As you carefully place the cup down on the table in front of her Frankie watches you in awe. Rosie’s tired brown eyes steal a glance at you and you nearly melt. Even though her little face is sickly pale she’s the cutest kid you’ve ever seen. 

“Thank you,” after he shows his gratitude he turns back to his daughter and continues running his hands through her curls. 

“And if you feel up for it I have an extra piece of berry pie.” Her downcast eyes widen at the mention of pie and it almost livens her chubby face. 

“Really?” She perks up on the sofa and tries to remove the blanket before Frankie settles her. 

“After you drink some tea and lay down kay?” She pouts at his words but obliges and lays back down. 

With all the guys personally checking in on Rosie you head back to your desk and check your purse for those cough drops. There are about three but that should be good enough, plus they’re the ones that taste like candy. You lay them out on your desk before looking up to find Frankie in front of you. He leans across the table with that look in his eye, the one that makes your tummy flutter. 

“I meant it when I said thank you back there. I appreciate you so much, Hermosa.” He places his warm hand over yours. 

“Never a problem Catfish.” You let your eyes fall back on the desk and remember to ask him, “It’s fine that I give these to Rosie right?” 

He laughs at your genuine sweet nature before answering, “Yes, and if it’s not too much would you mind checking on her, I’m not sure how often I’ll be able to.”

“Like I said never a problem.” You give him your biggest smile, making it a point to scrunch your face. 

The two of you share a moment before he releases your hand to head back out to the garage. Coincidentally you find the guys staring at you with smirks plastered on their faces. They say their last comforting words to Rosie and trail after Frankie.

Since two of the three cars were going to be ready in an hour you called to let the customers know. You peer over to find Rosie drinking her tea and you grab the first cough drop before heading over. 

“How’s your tea?” You take a seat in the chair next to the sofa.

“It’s good but I like more sugar.” Her direct answer has you nodding your head in faux contemplation. 

“If you finish that cup I promise to make your next one extra sugary.” She smiles at your bargain and begins tipping the cup back to drink more. “You don’t have to get it all now sweetie but I love the enthusiasm.” 

“What’s your name?” You tell her your name and she says it a couple of times while nodding. You return the question to her as if you didn’t already know.

“I’m Rosie. So are you my Daddy’s friend?” The tilt of her voice makes you think she’s teasing you. 

“Yes, I am why?” You put a tilt in your voice similar to her.

“You’re really pretty to be his friend.” She tries to hide her smile behind the mug. 

“Thank you, Rosie, I think you’re really pretty too.” Her giggles warm your heart and you almost forget the reason you came over here. “I brought you a cough drop but I promise it tastes like candy.” 

“Thank you, I don’t think I feel as bad anymore so can I have that piece of pie now?” Her puppy dog eyes resemble her father’s so much that you don’t think you can deny her. 

“Alright finish that tea, but not too fast, and I’ll get it ready.” You make your way back to collect the pieces of pie from your desk and bring it to the break room. Each piece is placed on a paper plate and you grab two plastic forks from the box on the counter.

When you come out of the break room Rosie is criss-cross applesauce on the couch pleasantly waiting for the pie. A huge smile breaks out across her face when you place hers in front of her and she thanks you immediately. Neither of you wastes time digging into your respective slices. 

A few minutes pass before the tell-tale bell rings above the door and a customer walks in. You leave your half-eaten slice to go back to the desk and greet them. She gives you her last name and you bring up her paperwork in the system. 

“Okay let me check in and it shouldn’t be long. Please take a seat anywhere and I’ll get back to you.” On your way towards the garage, Rosie smiles big at you with purple smeared around her mouth. You wave back before going through the door. 

“Who’s working on Monroe’s Honda?” You call out to the four men in the area, and Benny’s head pops up from the hood. “She just arrived and I wanted to know how much longer.” 

“I was literally about to come inside I’m just running my third check to make sure.” He heads back to the car and you leave to head back but Frankie saddles up next to you. 

“How’s my baby? I have about 10 minutes left on this car before I’m done.” You are tempted to answer for yourself but you know what he means.

“Tearing down that berry pie like it’s going out of style.” His laugh sounds full and boisterous and you’re glad after how irate he was when he went to pick up Rosie. 

The waiting area is the same as you left it and you let Mrs. Monroe know her car is just about ready. As you turn around you almost bump into Rosie who’s holding her now empty plate in her small hands. 

“I finished and I couldn’t find the trash.” You shouldn’t be surprised at her manners since Frankie is her father but you tell her to follow you. She rounds the desk behind you and you point out the trash can under your desk. “If you want you can have the rest of my pie.” 

Rosie still places her plate in the trash but she thanks you before running back off to her corner. Benny slides through the door and checks out Mrs. Monroe so you head back over to Rosie. 

Before you can sit in your seat she tells you, “I have to tinkle.” And just as quickly as you sat down you’re right back up and guiding her to the bathroom in the back. You wait in the hallway while she finishes up her business. The moment she opens the door you double-check that she’s washed her hands. Thankfully Rosie provides her slightly damp hands for your approval.

“What’s your favorite color? Mine is all of them, I can’t pick one.” Her charming voice fills the empty hallway you two walk down. 

“I used to love all the colors too, but now I really love purple.” You look down at her to smile while giving your answer and she slips her slightly damp hand in yours. 

“Purple is really pretty but so is the rainbow and cheetah.” You didn’t have the heart to correct her on cheetah being a pattern. 

When you two re-enter the lobby the both of you are so engrossed in conversation that you miss the tension unfolding while you’ve been away. Frankie stands in front of a stunning woman with dark brown hair who’s seething in anger. But she’s not the only one, Frankie’s irritation is coming off his body in waves. 

Clarity alludes you the more you look between them, there’s a familiarity. It doesn’t take long for the pieces to fall into place when Rosie raises her other hand to wave at the woman before yelling out, “Hi Mommy.” Two sets of eyes land on you and you’ve never felt more out of place in your life. Suddenly being swallowed by the earth sounded delightful. 

“Who the hell is this?” Her sharp but alluring voice cuts through the air and you finally allow yourself to fully take her in. This is Frankie’s wife. You can’t help but notice her polished appearance, her hair looks freshly blown out and her French-tipped nails only add to the form-fitting dress she’s wearing. 

“I’m the receptionist, I just took Rosie to the bathroom.” You try and keep your voice level, not wanting to escalate the situation in front of Rosie. 

“I’m gone for a couple of hours and you pawn our daughter off to some receptionist?” Though she kept her voice down you end up hearing every word. 

As much as you’d heard about her you still weren’t prepared to see her, part of you was pretending as long as you couldn’t see her she didn’t exist. 

“A couple of hours?” Frankie pauses at that to give her the nastiest look you’ve ever seen cross his face. “You dropped our daughter off knowing she was sick so you could-” He stops himself to gesture at her clearly put-together outfit. 

“I didn’t know she was sick, how was I supposed to know she would throw up all over the place.” From Frankie’s face, it’s clear he wants to say something but with Rsoie here he holds himself back. 

“But I told you I didn’t feel good Mommy, you told me it would pass.” The silence that followed her innocent statement scared you, and you weren’t the one Frankie had his eyes set on. 

Shaking yourself out of your stunned stupor you gently coax Rosie to go see her Uncle’s in the garage. For the first time since you’ve worked here, you close the door behind you. The guys take notice and you simply tell them, “Frankie’s wife is here.” Confused faces instead turn into silent understanding and they pause their routine for closing.

…………

“Maria,” In all their years of marriage she’d never heard this tone of voice. “Are you fucking crazy?” The lack of yelling made it even worse, not that he ever really raised his voice. 

“Look Francisco, I had a meeting and it didn’t sound serious so I still dropped her off. Okay? I’m sorry.” Maria places her hands on her husband's biceps but he backs away from her touch. 

“You are unbelievable, they couldn’t get in contact with you for 5 hours. How long could this meeting have possibly been?” It was one thing for her to disregard him but for her to do it to their daughter was something unforgivable. But there was only one reason she would be so careless, and her outfit told him everything. 

“Tell me you weren’t meeting with Chris, tell me you didn’t drop our daughter off so you could run off with your boyfriend.” 

“I-,” A panicked expression crosses her face and Frankie doesn’t allow for any more of her excuses. 

“I’m done. Putting a man before our child is in-fucking-sane.” He can’t recognize the woman in front of him, and he understands how she felt during his addiction. The person he met at the altar is gone.

“I agree. The open marriage thing has gone too far and I’m ready to close it okay?” At this point even she can see her marriage crumbling before her and despite previous thoughts, she’s not ready to let go.

“I’m not talking about closing the marriage, I want a divorce.” The distinction in his voice before he turns and heads to the garage fills her with desperation. Maria follows closely behind him as he opens the door. She stays in the door way silently watching and waiting for another chance to talk.

You are gently rubbing Rosie’s head while she sleeps soundly in a makeshift bed of two chairs. The way Frankie’s face lights up when he looks at you makes her skin crawl. But it gets worse when your eyes meet his there’s no denying there is something between you. 

She thinks back to how Frankie told her Benny introduced him to the girl he was seeing. She supposes it makes sense you are beautiful and you seem caring. As much as she wanted to throw the rules in his face she knew she had no leg to stand on. At this point, she had nothing else to lose and Rosie was asleep so it would only be fair to warn you. 

From the doorway she makes herself known and Frankie rolls his eyes, hoping that ignoring her will make her go away. One look around the room and she can see how outnumbered she is. The men who once welcomed her with open arms now disdainfully glance at her. 

“I’m not sure how well he’s hidden it but he’s a drug addict and his PTSD will always send him right back down the cocaine rabbit hole. Save yourself from the endless baggage.” Maria threw her last card on the table and from the way Francisco froze, it had the desired impact.

No one could have predicted that would come out of her mouth. Your eyes widen at the sudden intake of information and you seek out Frankie’s eyes but he’s turned away from you. Seconds feel like minutes and no one else has said a word. What could be said to follow something so cruel? 

All you want to do is tell Frankie that you don’t think less of him, but that’s a private conversation. And unlike some people, you understand the need for privacy and tact. 

“It’s time for you to go.” William steps in to shield Frankie who keeps his eyes locked on the ground. 

While Maria struts away like she didn’t ruin what little comfort Frankie had, tears begin to rim his eyes. As if his shame wasn’t bad enough it had to happen in front of you. There was no telling how you would feel about him now and he wouldn’t blame you.

Benny and Santiago circle Frankie whispering about something you can’t hear. You stand to approach him but Will’s chest fills your vision. His eyes are cast down in a way that you can tell you’re being shut out of this private moment. 

“I don’t think now is a good time sweets,” His hand rests on your shoulder before squeezing in what you think is reassurance. 

“Could you tell him I don’t think any less of him? And to call me when he’s ready please?” Your voice cracks as you try to keep it together because you’re the last person who should be crying. 

Will feels terrible about making you go but it’s too late and you’re already out the door with your sniffles following. When the door closes again Frankie knows you’ve left and his shoulders begin shaking. The only reason he’s still standing is because of the three men holding him up. Thankfully Rosie’s cold keeps her knocked out so she misses her father’s breakdown. 

@harriedandharassed @emilianamason

[laurfilijames]

Breathe

Part 6

Pairing: Will 'Ironhead' Miller x female reader

Words: 5.4K

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Unprotected intercourse. Oral sex (female receiving). ANGST. Oh the angst. Mentions of war and deployment.

Summary: Will starts to distance himself from you to the point of being unable to mend things and tension rises between the Miller brothers over his actions.

A/N: No notes. Just tears. GIF by the amazing and generous @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler and beautiful banners by the loveliest and most supportive @spaghettificationandpretzels who also was my sounding board for my ideas and maniacal mood swings while writing this 💗💗

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

---

“What if I hurt her, Ben?”

“You won't.”

“If she was in that bed with me last night-”

“You won't.” Benny insisted, cutting Will off before he could continue, sending his older brother a concerned, but stern glance as he turned around after filling his mug with coffee.

Will sighed and looked down at his feet, clenching his teeth together as the same thoughts that hadn't left him since last night continued to occupy his mind.

“It was so real, man…”

“I can imagine!” Benny sympathized, his eyebrows raising on his forehead, silently assessing his brother who he'd only seen that distraught once or twice before. “But you're not going to hurt her. That,” he emphasized, referring to Will’s nightmare, “isn't going to happen.”

Will puffed out his cheeks as he exhaled again, looking out the kitchen window where the early morning sun was casting a yellow glow over the room, hoping Benny was right, but not feeling convinced.

“Are you seeing her today?”

Will pursed his lips and nodded, looking over at Benny who stared at him over the rim of his mug as he took a long sip, waiting for a proper response.

“Yeah, I'm going to her place tonight.”

Benny shook his head up and down as he swallowed his coffee, appearing pleased with that answer.

“Good, that's good. We’ll have a hard session at the gym and hopefully that'll help you sleep better, too.”

“Yeah, you're right. Thanks, man,” Will smiled, feeling slightly guilty that he knew he wasn't going to sleep or feel better about this anytime soon, watching Benny light up and start excitedly going on about their training after Will’s convincing lie.

After refilling his cup of coffee, Will pulled a chair out from the kitchen table and sat, staring blankly at the black beverage steaming in his mug, tuning out whatever else Benny was saying, the exhaustion he felt from not sleeping the rest of the night and the pure panic that hadn’t truly left his veins making his whole body feel like lead in the wooden seat.

He wondered exactly how he would even manage to get through a workout, but knew with his tour coming up he’d have to keep training, and as he was always used to doing, he would push through even the toughest days.

Will picked his phone up off the table, checking it again to see if you had text, wondering if he should send one now, or wait until a bit later, or if he should just call you and risk you hearing that something wasn’t right in the tone of his voice.

He tossed it carelessly, sighing as he picked up his mug and took a drink from it, setting it down and then grabbing his phone again, spinning it in his hand indecisively.

Will roughly rubbed his hands over his eyes after he parked his truck in your driveway, exhaling deeply before finding the strength to get out and walk to the door, his workout draining him even more than he already had been. It temporarily gave him hope that being that tired would result in him actually sleeping, but the feeling in his stomach reminded him how anxious he still felt about his nightmare and that it was something his mind wasn’t going to simply let him forget.

For a moment it was all whisked away, seeing your face as you opened the door before he even had the opportunity to knock, your smile immediately making one appear on his own lips.

“Hey!” you greeted enthusiastically, your presence bringing him some calm as soon as you wrapped your arms around his torso and hugged him.

Will placed his lips against your head, inhaling your scent and pressing a light kiss as he squeezed you back, the relief to have you in his arms mixing with the now persistent fear that he was capable of hurting you.

“How was your day?” you asked, peeling away from him slightly to look at him.

“Good,” he lied, nodding and hoping he didn’t look half as weary as he felt. “What about you?”

“It was good,” you smiled. “Better now.”

Will chuckled and followed you inside, kicking his boots off before following you further in and through to the living room.

“Are you hungry?”

“Hmm, no, I’m good, thanks.” Will declined, seeing a quizzical expression draw over your features.

“Okay…are you not staying the night?” you asked, finally noticing he came with just himself, no bag with a change of clothes or toothbrush.

“Uh, no…” he confirmed through a sigh, feeling guilty about it already. “I gotta be up early, something for work. It’s looking like I’m going to start getting back into things soon,” he lied, omitting the fact that he was already cleared and scheduled for duty in a matter of weeks.

You smiled despite feeling a slight sense of disappointment. “Well, I’m glad I get you for a little bit at least. How are you feeling about going back?”

Will shrugged. “It’ll be good to have a purpose again, maybe it’ll make things feel normal…get me back to being who I was before I was the guy who choked someone out in the cereal aisle.”

His heart ached at how you were looking at him as he spoke, your expression so genuine and clearly caring about him and how he felt, making that sourness in his stomach amplify from his dishonesty.

“Yeah, I think so, too,” you spoke softly, your eyes bright as the smile on your lips met them. “I’m really happy for you, Will. This is great news.”

You reached for his hands which he let you take hold of, pulling him in for a sweet, slow kiss that grew deeper and harder with each second, a sense of relief flooding Will over the fact that he didn’t have to explain more or evade the truth.

He focused on your kiss, breathing you in as your hands began to roam each other’s bodies and clumsily tore at clothing, stumbling toward your bedroom where he hoped that for as long as he was inside you, he would forget about everything.

It was all a mix of slow and fast, Will constantly reminding himself to relax and breathe, all of his emotions toiling within him uncontrollably.

As eager as he felt to have all of you as much as he could, Will wanted to take his time, soaking up each moment with you while he had the chance, every touch and kiss one that he tried to imprint in his memory.

Will sat on the bed, looking up at you as you stood close to him between his legs, his hands gently running up the backs of your thighs to your bum.

You sighed out slowly and closed your eyes, feeling his fingers find the edge of your panties and start to tug them down your hips, his lips landing on your bare stomach where he kissed you over and over.

He breathed in, keeping his nose and lips pressed against you, able to smell your arousal as he slipped your thong down to your knees before letting go where they fell the rest of the way to the floor.

Dragging his face along the crest of your hip bones and further down to your groin, Will moaned, his fingers indenting your flesh instinctively, feeling himself relax when your hands smoothed over his tense shoulders and back, your touch everything he needed right now.

He pulled you onto the bed with him as he laid down, both of you resting on your sides where your leg fell over his, his arms embracing you while your foreheads touched, his hand cupping your cheek to keep you close to him.

“Are you okay?” you whispered, sensing something from him you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“Hmm, yeah,” he responded, moving his head so your noses rubbed together.

You gave a quick kiss to his lips, testing the waters, only to have him pull your face hard into his, his tongue delving into your mouth desperately, his claim over you clear as he released his hand from your face and grabbed under your bum, pulling your core against him where he ground his hips into yours.

With what little space there was between your bodies, you reached down and found his cock straining through the thin cotton of his boxers, grabbing it and tugging it free before angling it down to the apex of your thighs where it nestled perfectly between your folds and began to grind on him.

“God, you feel so good, sweetheart,” he groaned, hardly able to believe it felt that incredible without even being inside you yet.

You squirmed against him, moving along his length as you breathed out slowly and closed your eyes, your mouth teasing his before slotting your lips together again. His beard was soft on your skin, but you knew with how eager you were to keep kissing him that your face would feel raw by the time you were sated, the taste of him too good to stop.

Moments passed with you just like this, kissing and teasing, indulging in the soft and slow that you seldom did, usually unable to stop yourselves from choosing a rough and fast pace.

A long whine came from you as his tip breached your entrance, pushing through and settling no more than an inch inside, the tease of it almost equally as satisfying as if he was buried completely in you.

His hands grabbed at your ass, pulling your cheeks apart, the stretch feeling so good you automatically brought your hips closer to his body, making his cock go deeper while you increased the fervor of your kiss.

Will groaned into your mouth as he shifted his body, moving at lay on top of you where his weight pressed you comfortably into the mattress, lifting his hips so his cock slid out before slowing forcing it back in again.

His fingers raked over the sides of your head, holding you securely and angling your face up to his, his tongue exploring your mouth wildly as his thrusts grew into a deep, purposeful rhythm.

The thought of never being able to do this with you again crossed his mind, wondering what the outcome of telling you he was leaving would be and if he would even make it back alive, dreading what he knew he would have to face sooner rather than later.

Trying to ignore that panic, he relished in the way your hands smoothed over his back, your touch so soft yet so meaningful it helped make everything more profound, and he vowed to put everything he had into making love to you.

There had been so many times already he had wanted to say it, to tell you he loved you, because fuck did he ever, but now he knew he couldn’t, wanting to protect you from him even more and what he feared he was capable of.

Each rolling thrust was met perfectly by you, your hips purling into his to take him deep, allowing him to drag out slowly before pressing back in, the rhythm addicting and working to send you both over the edge.

Your bed moved against the wall as he put more power behind his pace, moaning and breathing into your mouth desperately as he lost himself completely in you, feeling your hand search for his where you laced your fingers together and held onto it tightly, his grip squeezing as he brought your linked hands up beside your head.

Will knew you were on the brink, able to read your body on instinct and almost better than his own, feeling your breathing change and the pitch of your whines switch, your free hand leaving marks on his back as your movements became erratic.

He felt you tense, every muscle in your body that was wrapped around his straining through your pleasure, your walls choking his cock as a surge of wet lubricated his strokes.

Will kissed you harder, absorbing your cries until your body relaxed under him, but he'd only allow you a short moment of reprieve.

He crawled down your body, a whiny moan sounding from you when he pulled out of you, your hands clawing for him to stay, but when his mouth landed on your soaked cunt your protest stopped, your hips bucking off the bed against his face as he worked to make you come again quickly.

“Are you sure you can't stay?” you whispered, tracing your fingers all over his sweaty face in a way that made him never want to move.

He sighed, closing his eyes and praying for the courage to give the answer he knew he needed to.

“I'm sure. I'm sorry.”

You looked crestfallen despite your best efforts not to, the side of your mouth turning upward as you nodded your head in understanding.

Will kissed your palm that rested beside his mouth, wanting more than anything to stay in bed with you, not even caring if he ever slept or not, but his nightmare kept nagging him and reminding him exactly why he couldn't.

“I'll call you tomorrow,” he explained, stepping out of bed and finding his boxers, leaving you in the mess of sheets to watch as he dressed.

It was so late already, making you question even more why he wouldn't just stay the rest of the night, feeling a sense of unease and confusion, and hoping you weren't reading into things too much.

“Get some sleep,” you wished, sitting up to meet him in a kiss when he came back over and leaned down, your hand slipping behind his neck where you felt him groan to your touch.

“Yeah, I will. You too,” he said quietly, knowing damn well he wouldn't. “I'll lock the door behind me.”

Both of you hesitated a moment, your eyes searching each other’s, your silence screaming the words neither of you dared to.

With a weak smile, Will turned and walked out, and everything in you felt so anxious that something between you was changing, and you couldn't determine if it was for better or worse.

The rest of the week played out the same; Will coming over to your place each evening to have dinner and spend time with you, only to make himself scarce as soon as turning in for the night was being considered.

He caught you staring a few times, watching him finish the dishes or studying his expression as you watched tv together, trying to work out what was going on in his head.

He did everything he could to act as normal as possible, but could feel himself slowly pulling away, distancing himself like he was gradually building up to the inevitable.

All of that seemed to fade the moment his body made contact with yours.

His hands would grip you tighter, each kiss more intense and passionate than the last, the time spent with his arms wrapped around you in a hug growing longer with each one, savouring your presence and everything good that you gave him.

He almost wished you would just ask, call out what you seemed to know he was doing, his guilt growing the same his love for you was, but the pain he felt in his heart at knowing he was hurting you, and was going to hurt you even more, was outshining both easily.

Six hours and forty-seven minutes. That was the total amount of sleep he'd had in the last three days, finding himself growing more irritable and angry on top of being exhausted.

He sighed when he came in the door, noticing the tv on and blaring, Benny still awake and watching a fight.

The last thing he wanted was an interrogation from his brother, and he prayed as he slipped out of his boots and put his keys in their spot that one wouldn't come tonight.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Benny’s head whip around, and as he walked into the kitchen, he waited for the comments to come.

“Do you keep fucking and bailing? Because it really seems like you keep fucking and bailing.”

Will took a deep breath and ignored him.

“Nice,” Benny added, sarcastically.

Will opened the fridge to get a glass of water, glaring at him over the door with warning, which only encouraged Benny more.

He always had a habit of testing Will, seeing how far he could push him until he snapped, and while Will wasn't sure if that was what he was doing now, it was definitely getting on his nerves.

“Getting your fill and then leaving her hanging. You must really love her,” he drawled, staring at the tv as Will walked into the room.

“Fuck off, Ben. You know why I'm not sleeping there,” Will huffed, plopping himself on the chair opposite the couch.

“I told you it isn't going to happen for real. It was a dream, man. I know you-”

“You don't know shit!” Will barked, cutting him off.

He stood and stormed to his room, hating how his brother could be so good and understanding one minute and then go totally against him the next, but mostly hating how he knew he was right.

Coffee was barely enough to keep him functioning at this point, and after another sleepless night, Will wondered just how much more of this he could take, especially with his deployment date looming and getting closer and closer.

He counted the tablespoons of grounds he scooped out of the container and into the coffee maker, hoping a stronger brew would help him drag his feet less but worried it would only do the job of amping up his anxiety.

For the brief moments he had slept, that same nightmare kept recurring, seeing your lifeless face in his hands until he jolted awake, gasping for breath and covered in sweat.

He knew should tell you about the nightmare and that he was leaving, but his selfishness was getting the better of him, feeling as if the moment he said it out loud that his whole world would actually fall out from under him, and the thought terrified him.

Benny came into the kitchen, his arms stretched above his head with a long exaggerated yawn, and even though Will told himself he wasn't trying to, it was like he was rubbing it in his face that he’d slept so well.

As Will went to grab a mug from the cupboard, Benny brushed by him, reaching around his brother to get his own, nudging Will in the process.

Will sighed, but ignored his irritation, opening the next cupboard over to put the coffee away where Benny stuck his hand in to get the sugar.

“Don’t fucking start,” Will warned under his breath.

“I didn’t say anything.”

Benny gave him a look, smoothing his hair back and out of his face as he grabbed the bag of bread and took out a couple of slices.

“No, but I know what you’re doing.”

Benny didn’t respond, and Will knew he was carefully choosing what he would say when he did speak next, seeing a tension in his back as he went about his business.

“You’re gonna have to tell her at some point, Will,” he said quietly, not looking at him.

Will swallowed thickly, feeling every muscle in his body tense up while choosing to bite his tongue.

Benny shoved him with his shoulder as he sidled up next to him, grabbing the pot of coffee before Will was able to.

“Can you stop?” Will barked, holding his empty mug up in disbelief.

Benny glared at Will as he put the pot back down, almost as if he was daring Will to make a move.

“Fuck you.”

“Really?”

“You’re acting like a dick and you know it,” Benny accused, not moving from where he stood.

Will took a step back, hanging his head. “I don’t need this shit right now.”

“No?” Benny asked excitedly. “Stop being such an ungrateful piece of shit. You treat everyone like shit, like you’re owed everything because you’re hurt.”

Will shook his head, feeling anger rise up through him, but Benny just kept going.

“You landed yourself the best girl and look what you’re doing with that. You don’t think she deserves to know you’re fucking leaving in eight days?”

Benny’s voice continued to rise as he went on, making Will’s teeth clench harder and his grip on the countertop get tighter as he leaned forward against it.

“Now you’re just pissed off because you know you’re fucking everything up. How the hell are you gonna go over there and focus when you’re turning into a complete fucking mess here?”

Will stayed quiet, hanging his head and unable to look his brother in the eye, knowing everything he was saying was true.

Benny watched him for a minute, waiting, and gave his final say before walking out of the kitchen.

“Get your shit together, man. Or something bad might really happen.”

More and more days passed between seeing each other, and by now Will imagined you had gotten the hint, having stopped initiating conversations due to how cold and short he was being with you, knowing you were doing your best to give him space in hopes that would fix everything.

Texts were rare and visits were brief, and Will could see and feel the worry radiating off of you when he was with you, your uncertainty if you were the problem blatant.

Two days remained until he deployed, and with his bag packed and everything else in order, he reached for his phone.

Can we talk?

You gave him a smile when you opened the door to let him in, but the rest of your face said it all, your eyes bleary and barely able to hold contact with his, your body language nervous as you rubbed your arm up and down even though it was brutally hot and humid.

“Can I get you anything?” you offered, the question feeling too formal but suiting the atmosphere, neither of you reaching for the other for a hug and kiss like you used to.

“No, I’m okay, thanks.”

“I’m guessing this isn’t going to be a fun conversation, so I’d like you to spare me even more grief then you’ve already caused, Will.”

Your words came out quickly, like if you didn’t rush to say them you wouldn’t get them out, and your voice shook, making Will’s heart break even more than it was.

He sighed and nodded, raising his eyebrows on his forehead.

“I think we should stop before we get too far ahead of ourselves here.”

“What does that mean?” you scoffed, your frustration and confusion clear as day.

“What do you think it means?” he said pointedly, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared at you bluntly.

You nodded your head as you looked up at the ceiling, blinking quickly to fight off the tears he knew you were struggling to keep back.

“I thought this was what you wanted,” you explained. “Why didn’t you say if it was too much or too fast?”

“I’m sorry,” he said flatly, looking at your face contort with even more hurt and confusion.

“You’re sorry?” you blurted. “You’ve spent the last however many weeks stringing me along and acting like everything was fine until all of a sudden it wasn’t and then you fucking ghost me? And all you have to say is you’re sorry?”

“Why is that so hard to understand?” he spat, the chill of his words surprising himself.

He watched your expression shift, your anger switching to a gut-wrenching hurt he knew too well, your pain washing over you in a rippling effect after his words slapped you across the face.

“Because I’m falling in love with you!”

He felt like he’d been punched in the stomach, knowing all along that you were but hearing it hit him so much harder, and in the act of self-preservation, he continued his facade of not loving you in return.

“Yeah? Well stop, because you’re only gonna end up hurt.”

“Wha-” you started, but he cut you off before you were able to start asking questions.

“I’m deploying in two days.”

Your mouth opened and closed, and he knew the feeling of not being able to properly take the breath you so desperately needed, the shock on your face forcing Will to look away and down at his boots, too cowardly to face what he caused.

“I can’t go do this mission with any distractions,” he explained, his tone flat and expressionless.

“Is that all I am to you? Do you not think I care or wouldn’t offer support…I can't just put how I feel about you on hold or dismiss it completely, Will. Us breaking this off isn't going to make a difference in me worrying about you or erase what we have.”

Will shrugged, not knowing what else to say and feeling like he was out of lies to spew, and at this point nothing he said would make any of it better or worse.

You shook your head quickly and grunted frustratedly, wiping the tears that finally fell off your cheeks.

"I don't know why I'm crying,” you laughed, looking at him defeatedly. “You're not mine to cry over."

Will couldn’t bring himself to look at you again as he made his way over to the door, knowing damn well that he was yours as much as you were his, his entire heart left behind with you as he walked out.

After crying more tears than you thought you ever had, you peeled yourself out of bed and dragged your sorry ass to the gym, needing to distract your mind and do something good for your body, even if it meant risking seeing one or both of the Miller brothers there.

Your reflection was like a stranger, a hollowed-out version of yourself with puffy, blood-shot eyes lifting the dumbbells in your hands up and down as you worked through a set of bicep curls.

You were barely able to count through your reps, thinking how ironic it was that that was how you and Will met in the first place, but you knew the exact amount of hours it had been since he came and broke things off with you, and how long it was until he’d be on a plane flying out to wherever hell he was going.

You did a double-take in the mirror when you saw Benny come out of the change room, spinning around to see him better, the large black and blue bruise swelling around his left eye making your mouth hang open. A cut on his lower lip looked like it was still bleeding, and you thought it all to be strange when you recalled Will telling you he didn’t have any more fights until the fall.

The sympathetic smile he gave you was a reminder of all the things you knew you would be missing out on, but you shoved those feelings aside and walked over to him, your curiosity getting the better of you.

“What the hell happened to you? I thought you weren’t fighting for a while?”

Benny huffed out a laugh, rolling his eyes. “You should see the other guy…”

That drew your attention to his hands, seeing the skin on his knuckles broken and red, knowing whoever was on the receiving end of it was likely in far worse shape than him.

Before anything else could be explained, you followed Benny’s gaze as he looked up, your heart stuck in your throat as you watched Will walk in the front door, his face even more beat up than Benny’s was.

You looked at Benny where he just shrugged, knowing you had put two and two together.

“He deserved it,” he said flatly, clearly not proud of it. “I don’t know what the hell has gotten into him. I’m sorry for what he did to you.”

You nodded and bit your lip, looking down at the floor because you knew if you met Benny’s kind, blue eyes, you would crack again.

You sighed, praying your voice didn’t break when you spoke. “Do you think he’s going to be okay?”

Benny nodded convincingly, the faith he had in his older brother never faltering despite whatever was happening. “Yeah, he’ll be fine.”

You nodded, feeling the lump in your throat return.

“Are you gonna be alright?” he asked, making you nod faster and look anywhere but at him, the tears coming on fast as all the equipment surrounding you began to blur in your vision.

“I’m sorry he’s such a dipshit.”

You laughed through your tears, and Benny did too, his broad smile making you feel a little better.

“It’s just crazy,” you started, finding your courage to speak. “I don’t even hate him for what he did. I just want him to be happy and be safe.”

“Yeah, me too,” he agreed. “That’s what happens when you love someone.”

It was silent in the truck on the way over.

Benny hadn’t even turned on the radio which was unusual, leaving Will with nothing to listen to other than his thoughts and the sound of his pulse, counting each heartbeat until his brother pulled onto the tarmac and parked.

“You sure you're gonna be okay over there?” he asked, and Will could feel his eyes fixed on him.

Puffing out his cheeks, he breathed, “I think so. Kinda have to be.”

Will looked out the window, seeing all the families saying goodbye to his fellow troops, his heart aching in his chest as his mind went to you.

He blinked and then turned toward Benny, shaking his head and laughing, seeing how bad Benny’s beat up face was and knowing he looked ten times worse.

“We look like idiots.”

Benny ripped down the visor to look at his face in the mirror, offended Will would say such a thing.

“I look like this pretty much all the time. Are you saying I always look like an idiot?”

“I'll leave that up to you.”

Their chuckles faded out, leaving them to sit in silence for a couple of minutes, Benny studying Will carefully for any tell that he wasn’t stable enough to get on that aircraft.

He saw his brother’s chest rising and falling sharply, the pulse in his neck thumping wildly, the muscles in his cheeks flinching as he tried to control his emotions.

“Everything will be fine, man.” Benny assured him, referring to both things with you and his mission.

Will nodded and finally found the courage to look over at him, his eyes wet.

“Keep an eye on her for me?” he choked out, trying to swallow the broken sob that followed his words.

“I will.”

Benny clapped his shoulder and shook it, his eyes welling up too, knowing he would never get used to these goodbyes regardless of how many times they happened, seeing his big brother go off to war something he hated more and more over the years.

Will leaned over and pulled him into a hug, squeezing his back so tight while feeling himself start to crumble as Benny reciprocated it with equal force.

“I love you, man,” Benny mumbled against his brother’s shoulder.

“I love you, too, Ben.”

Benny knew there was no point in punishing him anymore, it was punishment enough with his own guilt and having to go do what he was, and losing you on top of it was about all Will could handle.

He’d have his brother’s back no matter what, even if he didn’t agree with some of the things he’d done, and knew Will would do the exact same for him if it was the other way around.

Benny had never seen Will so happy as when he was with you, and promised to himself that he would do everything in his power to help get you two back together, refusing to let him give up on what he knew was the real deal.

The brothers parted, Benny squeezing the back of Will’s neck as Will pulled the handle to open the door.

“Go get ‘em and get on home.”

---

Part 7

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INCOMING MAIL ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ any fics or series that do not have a link are a work in progress / upcoming. I am just putting the fic descriptions on there ahead of time so I don’t have to do it later.

'*•.¸♡ UPCOMING FICS / WIP ★ baby doll | long past dawn

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KEY — s ( smut ) f ( fluff ) a ( angst ) d ( dark content )

˖⁺ ⊹୨ babydoll ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ( s, f ) ━━ will couldn’t help but feel admiration for you as you tried on your new clothes. he loved you, all of you, and just felt especially loving that night when’s he eating your pussy. ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ started: published: edited: yes ୨୧ 𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་

˖⁺ ⊹୨ long past dawn ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ( s ) ━━ you and will were forced to share a hotel room when your roof started leaking. the bed was too squeaky, the blanket too small, and will much too irritating… so how did you end up riding his cock again? ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ started: published: edited: yes ୨୧ 𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་

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