#redfly x reader

[jungkooklover777]

𝐼’𝑣𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝑡 𝑚𝑦 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ; benjamin (ben) “benny” miller | one-shot |

summary: one mildly disorienting night opens your heart to your best friend.

pairing: introvert!fem!reader x ben miller.

trope: best friends to potential lovers.

genre: fluff + a few drops of angst.

warnings‼️: reader gets roofied + crude language + details alluding to a bar fight + 2 mentions of blood + reader & ben r in their mid-late 20's.

word count: 3,305.

random disclaimerrr: inspired by this post. i’m so attracted to this man jfc he’s so fine. also don’t mind me… i got carried away w writing this. edit: here’s the sequel! happy reading! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ ♡ © 2025 @jungkooklover777

You've heard of high school and college graduating class reunions. Now get ready for military class reunions!

Ben received word through a digital invite (e-vite) and begged you to go with him.

You never said no, just that you were hesitant.

You see, you're the total opposite of your best friend.

He's fearless, outgoing, and the physical embodiment of the sun. In the sense that he lights up every room he enters. People smile and laugh more around him.

You're cautious, reserved, and are a creature of the night; much like the moon. You have a certain charm that exudes organized chaos.

“Pleaseee.”

He reminded you of a stubborn child, not that he isn't one.

“You know I'd never ask you if it was meaningless.”

That right there is what made you rethink your previous position.

It's true, Ben had never asked you to do anything that he deemed wasn't worth your time.

You've been friends for a long time, almost 12 years! This is the least you can do.

“Fine.” You murmured, picking at a loose thread on your sweater.

His smile is something worth framing.

He laughed boisterously and picked you up bridal style, whirling you around.

You giggled nonetheless at his rambunctious behavior.

And now you're here, standing in a flowy sundress with the hem stopping just an inch above your knees.

Your hair is styled just the way you like it, your makeup enhancing your confidence to show your face in a room full of people you'd otherwise be intimidated by.

Otherwise because he'll be there every step of the way, looking at out for you without leaving your side.

Ben stares at you, his blue eyes soft on your form.

“You’re beautiful.” His gruff voice gently sounds.

He wants you to know what he thinks. He wants you to know because you are.

“Thank you.” You say as you avoid eye contact.

You're diffident when it comes to compliments. You bashfully smile and look down as you accept them but it's something about his compliments that create an extra layer of timidness.

You think it's because of his tenacity towards you. He won't move on until you accept it.

You hear the heavy thunks of his boots come towards you and you're inclined to look up.

Ben leans on the wall next to him, his arms crossed over his chest.

He's wearing all black: plain black tee with black cargo pants and black combat boots.

All that's missing is a black baseball cap and he's solid, you joke to yourself.

“You, um… you look good.” You try.

Handsome.

He chuckles, nodding to himself while his ears burn. “Thanks.”

Something catches the light from his wrist, your gaze flickers towards it and are pleasantly surprised to see him wearing the watch you got him when he came back from a mission a couple of years ago.

“You like it?” You'd asked, excited to see his reaction to getting the watch he'd been eyeing for quite some time.

Ben just stared at you in awe, like you'd gotten him the moon and stars.

He hugged you tight, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple and whispering an ‘I love it’ to the side of your head.

His actions left you dazed for a week.

“I thought you would've lost that watch.” You poke at his tendency to lose expensive things in the most baffling ways.

He just shrugs. “You gave it to me.”

Ben admits that like it’s the only reason he hasn’t lost it yet.

Gifts from you hold meaning beyond materialistic value to him. It’s proof that he’s seen and heard.

Of course, you’re touched and he’s rendered you speechless once again.

“Come on, don’t wanna be late.”

The reunion’s at a nice restaurant with a great bar. You frequent this place often with Ben.

“See, it isn’t so bad.” He says as he pulls up to a parking spot.

Ben puts one hand behind the headrest of your seat and turns back to reverse park.

He’s a natural with 1 hand doing the steering, but it also makes him look even more attractive.

You fiddle with your rings in your lap and try not to think about how good he looks, how nice he smells.

Having a crush is so annoying, you complain internally.

What you don’t know is that despite having a camera built in for the very reason of not having to look back, he doesn’t use it around you.

Ben always makes sure to pull this move because he clocks your reaction the entire time.

Is he being kind of a jerk? Yes. Can he be blamed for wanting to show off for someone as beautiful, compassionate, and unique as you? Nope!

You two walk in and are immediately hit with the lively atmosphere. Conversation, country music and the steady stream of laughter all mix in together well.

Ben’s hand finds yours and you feel your heart stuttering in your chest. His palm slides on top of yours effortlessly, interlocking fingers. A squeeze of I’m here.

He leads the way with ease, already spotting his kind of people.

They hug him and you let go of his grasp, but he decides only for a moment.

They pat his back with pride and affection, offering to buy drinks and putting it on their tab without hearing what he has to say about it.

“Guys, this is Y/n.”

3 pairs of eyes rest on you and you feel your hands getting clammy already.

“Hi.” You say with a small wave.

They all smile at your sweet introduction.

“Y/n, this is Santiago.” Ben points towards a man with a light stubble, dark hair with faint strokes of gray, and equally dark eyes.

“Nice to meet you.” Santiago says as he reaches out to shake your hand.

“Nice to meet you, too.” You smile kindly.

An older man with a full beard stands up, extending his hand and welcome. “Tom Davis.” He says as you shake his hand.

“Y/n L/n.” You smile.

“And this is Frankie.”

You follow who's next in line and are met with a nice pair of eyes, ones that contain a steady calmness.

“Hello.”

“Hi.” He says back warmly.

“And that's it. This is my crew.”

You tilt your head slightly in confusion. “What about Willy?”

Santiago accidentally snorts, his drink comes down the wrong pipe and causes him to erupt into a small fit of coughs. Frankie hits his back hard with one loud smack, and soothes it by running his palm over it.

“Willy?” Tom parrots, so clearly amused at the choice of name.

“Yeah. It's my nickname for him.” You explain shyly.

You don't pick up on the fact that Tom and Santiago think it's funny but that's alright.

If looks can kill, Ben would've been a serial killer a long time ago.

“Willy's coming later.” Ben answers while maintaining eye contact with the two.

You nod to yourself, feeling a bit awkward. “I'm gonna go get a drink.”

Ben looks at you. Want me to come with?

You communicate with him through your own eyes. No, I'll be okay. Promise.

He nods once, only letting you out of his eyes when he sees you sit down on a stool.

“Holy shit, you're whipped!” Santiago laughs in disbelief.

Ben rolls his eyes, his defense ready on the tip of his tongue against the very true allegation.

“What, I can't care for my friend now?” He retorts with a quirked eyebrow.

Tom enters the discussion. “No, no. You absolutely can. It's just that she seems to be a special kind of friend,” He brings his beer up to his lips before pausing. “If you know what I mean.” He winks slyly and fuels Santiago’s rumbling laughter.

Frankie shakes his head at the duo's ridulousness.“Alright, alright. She can be just a girl who's a friend.”

“Thank you.” Ben exasperatedly puts his hands out towards the mellower man.

“But even I have to bite. How long you know her for?”

Fuck.

Every bit of gratitude Ben had for Frankie went out the window. He knows once he opens this can of worms, there's no putting them back.

Ben exhales deeply. “Just about half of our lives.”

Santiago almost flips the table. “WHAT?!”

“There's no fucking way.” Tom deadpans.

Frankie rolls his eyes and sighs. “Why'd I even ask.”

“Guys, guys, wait. Hear me out—”

“Are you fucking shitting me right now?” Tom's voice booms over his plea.

“I mean seriously, Benny, this is,” Santiago scoffs incredulously. “A low blow.”

He's honestly impressed with how long he’s kept you a secret from them yet a little disheartened.

Frankie doesn't say anything, wanting to hear Ben's explanation. He knows his friend and understands that maybe there's a good reason.

“Just let him talk.” William's voice echoes through their ears.

“Oh great, Willy's come to the rescue.” Tom jokes.

“You just get here?” Ben asks, surprised to his older brother so early on into the night.

“I've been here. You didn't get my message?”

The younger Miller fishes his phone out of his pocket and finds his message sent to him a little over an hour ago.

“Saw Y/n and talked with her for a little bit.” William looks back at you, smiling when he sees you look at him.

You both wave to each other and he thinks about how endearing you are. You’re the little sister he’s always wanted.

Ben is thinking and he realizes why he didn't see it before. “I was with Y/n, we were getting ready.”

This had never happened before. Missing his older brother's text? Leaving it unanswered?

Maybe you have casted a spell on him.

“Uhh... you good over there?” Santiago asks.

Ben nods swiftly. “Yeah, yeah. I’m good.”

Will prods as he grabs a drink. “So, you were saying?”

Ben sits down, already feeling a headache coming on.

“Y/n isn't like us. She’s shy, quiet, likes her alone time. Our friendship is something that took a lot of time, a lot of effort.”

He turns around to spot you and turns back around when he sees you're doing fine.

Although, you’re anything but.

The guy next to you won’t stop rambling on about how much money he makes and how his job is so demanding.

A narcissist in the making, you amuse yourself.

It’s when you pay your tab and move to go back does he shut the fuck up.

“Wait, I didn’t even get to buy you a drink.” He sleazily smiles.

You keep it pushing. “No, thank you. I’ve had enough for one night.”

The double entendre flies over his head as expected but he’s relentless.

“Oh come on, it’s just one drink. It won’t hurt.”

You take a moment to see how Ben’s doing and when you see him smile, you don’t want to go back and make it awkward.

But you also don’t want to be in the presence of this buffoon.

“Fine. One drink.” You draw the line clearly.

You didn’t see how he made eye contact with the bartender and what it meant.

“Atta girl.”

Your skin crawls at the repulsive taste his comment leaves in your mouth.

A shirley temple is placed on a napkin in front of you and you take a sip from the short, narrow straw.

Tastes okay, you conclude.

As you sip from the drink, his yammering begins.

You don't have it in you to roll your eyes anymore.

Now that you think about it, you don't have a lot of energy. At least not as much from the beginning of your night.

You don't feel like doing anything, you feel sluggish and uncoordinated.

Oh my god, you think. They just fucking roofied me.

You leave your drink and get up, instantly regretting it as your knees feel weak. You anchor yourself on the counter, noticing the stranger's attempt at trying to reach out to you to hold your unbalanced self.

You need to get away from him. Right-the-fuck-now.

“Ben.” You weakly call out.

Your ears feel muffled, like someone dumped your head underwater and led the liquid right into your ear canals.

Your voice comes out raspy and soft, despite your trying efforts.

Cotton mouth. Great.

At least your brain isn't too fuzzy.

You sense the stranger coming closer to you, saying shit you don't care to hear in an attempt to touch you and take you somewhere secluded.

You muster up all your strength to call out to your best friend but it's of no use as it's in your head.

But you feel him. His careful hands are on your waist, easing you back down on the stool.

You look up, eyes suddenly becoming bleary and almost sober up when you see the events unfolding in front of you in real time.

Ben is out for blood.

He punches the sick fuck in the mouth, blood pooling in already, just from one punch.

Santiago, Tom, Frankie, and William are on the scene as well. They have his back when it comes to you.

The sounds of glass breaking, people screaming, and the music abruptly coming to a stop serves as an entirely different atmosphere.

You stand up, wanting to distance yourself from the rowdiness.

You make it outside and away from any trouble.

You hear him this time.

“Y/n?”

You can't trust your judgement. Is this real or an effect of a possibly psychedelic drug serving as a date-rape roofie?

“Y/n, can you hear me?”

Ben's frantic, he wants to touch you but is anxious he'll scare you away.

You force your eyes open, blinking hard and shaking yourself awake.

Your vision clears up just a bit, allowing you to see him.

“Benny?” You breathe in sharply.

“Yeah, it's me. It's me, it's just me.”

He’s redundant in hopes of you letting him take care of you.

Ben inches closer, his hands hesitantly come up and grab your shoulders. When he feels you relax, he brings you flush against him.

He sighs as your face lays on his chest, he can't help kissing your forehead.

“It's okay, you're okay. You're alright.”

He's mostly saying it to himself but it helps ground you.

“Take me home. Please.” You whimper.

Ben's heart squeezes in anger, he curses at himself. How could he let this happen?

“I gotchu, I gotcha. Don't worry.”

You're losing control of your motor skills, your body falling onto him more and more subconsciously.

He notices though. He always does.

“Can you walk?” His panicked eyes rake over your form for the thousandth time, making sure he's not missing something.

You shake your head as the world spins, not feeling like answering him.

“That's alright, don’t worry. I gotchu.”

You feel his hands reposition themselves on your body; one on your back and the other under your knees.

“Wait-wait, don't! I-I'm too heavy.” You blurt out.

Ben stares at you like you just told him you can't be his friend anymore. His turquoise eyes are sad and unwilling to believe this is how you see yourself.

Even in your most vulnerable state, you manage to hurt yourself but your best friend tends the wounds.

“I can bench you plus another twenty pounds anytime, any day of the damn week. You understand?”

He's stern yet gentle, soft but with a no-nonsense attitude.

You don't shy away from his heated gaze. For the first time, you see yourself in his eyes and when you do; you finally understand him when he says you're beautiful.

“Y/n? You with me?” His eyes dart back and forth between yours.

You nod nimbly and murmur, “Yeah… I am.”.

You prepare yourself for him to lift you, both arms around his neck to stable your disorientated self.

He lifts you so effortlessly, so carefully.

Ben looks straight ahead as he walks to his car but you’re too busy staring at him.

You analyze his face, one you’ve seen so many times yet can never get tired of.

You smell the aftershave and even though he shaved earlier, you spot the beginning of a stubble growing along the sides of his chin and cheek.

A faint trail of hair trickles down from his nose and expands above his upper lip, adding to his charm.

The curve of his nose is delicate, like he was crafted carefully from stone. A little scar is stamped on his cheekbone, you don’t know how you haven’t seen it before.

Maybe it’s from a recent mission or something.

“Stop staring, you’re gonna make me drop you.”

He turns to you momentarily with a smirk and you blink, a small grin gracing your lips.

Ben opens the door and sets you down, coming in close to put your seatbelt on you.

“I can do it.” You mumble.

“I know.” He says. “I just want to do it for you.”

He kisses the spot above your left brow and you melt inside.

He has to stop kissing your face or you’ll fall in love with him.

Love, you think. Maybe I do love him.

As he drives you home, you recall this once-nervy evening now turned into a shit-show.

After everything that’s happened, not once did he show annoyance or aggravation towards you. Not once did he blame you for accepting the drink or tell you to do anything differently.

Does that mean he’s thinking it?

He’s not. He’s blaming himself and how he should’ve been more careful.

Ben’s not gonna let you out of his sight anymore.

You stare at him hazily as he drives, one hand on the steering and the other one holding your hand in comfort.

“Almost there, okay? Don’t fall asleep on me now.”

He wants you to despite his words. He wants you to sleep so you can’t see how holding you affects him. He wants you to be blissfully unaware of what your staring does to him, what you do to him.

“I won’t.” You promise.

He lays you down on your bed and your eyelids flutter.

You’re fighting the urge to sleep because you’re debating if you should tell him or not.

There’s always tomorrow but you don’t know if you’ll feel this urgency again. You just don’t want it to be too late.

“Ben?” You softly call out to him.

He walks out of your bathroom with a damp rag, setting it on your forehead to reduce your body temperature.

“I’m here.” He murmurs, equally soft.

You gulp nervously. “I have to tell you something.”

He eyes his watch. “Go ahead, ‘m listening.”

You take a deep breath in and out. “I like you.”

You feel like a little schoolgirl confessing her crush.

He looks at you with the fondest his eyes have ever been for you, even though they’re always like that with you.

“Well, I’d hope so.”

He’s joking. He wants to know if you’re saying that because you’re teetering on the edge of delirium or if you really mean it.

“No, I like you. Like, like-like you.”

“Wow, that’s a lot of likes.” He chuckles and you show him a beautiful grin.

“You’re always so nice to me… and I wanna know if you feel the same.”

This is the scary part.

Ben puts his hand in yours and brings it up to his cheek.

“I’m nice to you because you’re easy to be nice to.”

Your heart soars when he rubs his thumb on the back of your hand.

“And I do like you. As in, like-like you.”

You giggle and he loves the sound. It makes his heart happy.

“Go to sleep now, we can talk tomorrow. Okay?”

You nod and he sits back in your chair, staying the night in there as you sleep.

[ambitiouspotions]

FOR THE TROOP | FRANKIE MORALES | DRABBLE

summary — frankie is trying to convince his friends to buy his daughter’s girl scout cookies

word count — 1.5k

warnings — domestic fluff (dad frankie, three kids), post triple frontier, redfly’s death mentioned, casual drinking

author’s note — totally forgot this was in my drafts, and now i’m remembering my brownie scout days like it was yesterday

five mismatched camping chairs were lining the front of the open garage. all of the chairs besides the one furthest to the left were occupied, which was reserved for tom, who hadn't been present for six years but still deserved a spot when the guys gathered. there was an opened beer in the cupholder because tom still needed a drink too.

the spring breeze was nudging the freshly weeded flowerbeds. frankie had his hat hanging over the ear of the chair, sipping a cold corona with a squeezed lime wedge shoved in the neck of the bottle. he itched the underside of his jawline as he watched his three children dart in and out of the lawn sprinkler.

frankie's khaki cargo shorts and t-shirt still had remnants of water droplets on them from setting up the sprinkler. he was manspreading in his chair, comfortable in the weather the day had provided.

you were inside the house attempting to clean while your husband had everyone outside. even if the chores needed to be done it was relaxing without any human under four and a half feet tall questioning your every move. so you played the speaker a little too loudly, but to clear your slightly guilty conscience you left the screen of the door open if anyone happened to need your help.

as the eldest of the three morales children settled the younger two into some sort of ridiculous game, frankie cleared his throat. “alright, we can't just sit and drink beer,” he rocked his shoulder blades back a little, setting his beer securely in the chair’s cup holder. “we have business to attend to.”

“your text literally said ‘drinks on me, watching kids,” benny reminded him with a half smirk.

“i couldn't get you all here without incentive,” frankie rummaged through his pocket quickly pulling out a folded order sheet for girl scout cookies. the rainbow page and its partially filled-out information were now taking frankie’s attention. “so who's forking over cash for mi mija?”

will chuckled, glancing at the sheet. “oh no.”

“she's been working hard,” frankie said defensively. “if her troop sells the most cookies they get a weekend sleepover at the horse ranch. you're gonna take away ponies from a seven-year-old?”

“fine three boxes: two thin mints and one shortbread,” will agreed, as if he would've actually said no in the first place. he loved that little girl like she was his own.

“i'll take two of the peanut butter,” santiago was already pulling out his wallet as frankie jotted down the information on the order sheet.

“one, make ‘em samoas,” benny mumbled, having a very hard sense of self-control he was forced to wash over himself.

“one box?” frankie was personally offended. he wanted his daughter’s troop to have the best chance they could at receiving the grand prize from the most cookie sales.

“i'm cutting and i can't be sneakin’ cookies in the middle of the night. gotta stay in shape,” benny took a drink of his beer.

“she wants to sit by the bonfire after playing cowgirl all day, man. do you not have a soul?” frankie tapped his pen against paper. “buy more and freeze 'em’ for when you're bulking.” frankie insisted like any good dad salesman would.

“hell no, too much temptation,” benny stood firmly on his morals trying not to give into that coconut caramel goodness.

“you guys gotta step up, this much,” frankie made a small pinching motion with his fingers. “you're killing me. mija wants to be a future business leader of america and you’re denying ponies in her youth.” if he could have been standing on a soapbox he would have been.

santiago shrugged casually. “if you're pressed about it maybe you need to be buying them, fish.”

frankie became oddly quiet, glancing to his children playing and then to the house. he steadied his beer in his cup holder before leaning back in his chair to see if you were near the screen door behind them. you still seemed to be occupied.

even with your cleaning music playing in the background frankie still began to whisper. “none of you, and i mean, none of you can say shit.”

will, benny, and santiago all leaned in just a bit. frankie’s gaze was guarding the door as if it was going to open any second.

“i already bought some,” frankie confessed.

santiago furrowed his brows. “some?”

“some” didn't seem like any reason to be ducking down like a kid who was hiding a bad test score.

“like a fuckin’ pallet.” frankie had a completely straight face.

will’s mouth dropped slightly. “you mean like a case?”

frankie shook his head, cringing a bit knowing he was about to fully out himself to his friends. “no, like a pallet.” he reiterated. “it’s little over two thousand boxes.”

“fish, what the fuck?” benny cursed in that all knowing tone that his friend had officially lost his mind.

oblivious to all of the conversation, frankie’s children were laughing and giggling, shoving their faces into the stream of water as the sprinkler oscillated.

frankie was immediately trying to justify his actions. “i know a guy in mexico city and he said he’d buy ‘em when i drop ‘em on my next flight.”

santiago was grinning from ear to ear, trying to contain himself. “you're trafficking cookies?” it was almost too ridiculous to comprehend his friend being so head over heels for his daughter that he was pushing girl scout cookies across the border.

“hey,” frankie warned. “she’s been making posters and called everyone on mami’s phone, and i’m just giving her a boost.”

“what is that like…ten thousand dollars worth of a boost?” will did some quick configuring, he was off by a couple thousand, but he was trying to be less harsh with his guess.

one hundred sixty-eight cases to a pallet and twelve boxes per case with the inclusion of the six dollars a box charge, frankie had spent a hefty penny. he couldn't buy less than a pallet, so he went for the big purchase.

“and speaking of mami?” benny raised a brow questioningly. he knew that you definitely wouldn’t be on board with this scenario, especially with his friend becoming so secretive in order to spill the information.

“she doesn't know yet because she hasn't seen the credit card statement yet” frankie was now avoiding eye contact with his friends. he also was in no rush to correct will’s incorrect guess about the amount of money he had spent.

frankie had the shipment of cookies routed to the airport already. they were tucked away in the hanger ready to be flown out.

“he’s a dead man walkin’,” benny laughed, holding his stomach. he couldn't contain himself any longer.

“i was gonna tell her—”

redfly would be telling frankie to get comfortable with his sofa right about now. there was no way that he could get away from this argument unscathed. this wasn't an accident of spending an extra hundred dollars at costco; this was basically a small loan.

“—but what didn't want to admit you were crazy?” santiago laughed.

frankie was turning his head again to make sure all the laughter didn't spook his wife.

“look at her,” frankie gestured loosely to the yard. his oldest and only girl was prancing around in her rainbow peace sign bathing suit conducting the younger two boys. “was i supposed to let her down?”

“i think she would've been fine, fish,” will mumbled, eyeing the youngest of the morales children waddling over with a soaked diaper.

frankie immediately scooped up the little boy, not minding that he was soaking wet. he grabbed a towel from under his chair and wrapped the boy tightly. “you don't have kids you wouldn't get it.” he shrugged, patting the little boy’s back.

“you didn't see her face,” frankie tried to justify his reasoning again. “her troop out of the entire county has to sell enough, and i mean that's miserable.”

the men were silent for a moment, living in the moment of the spring day, partially judging and partially sympathetic to his situation.

“FRANCISCO MORALES,” a loud voice erupted from through the screen door. frankie winced.

you had started going through the mail on the counter, trying to clear the clutter from the kitchen, and almost thought the paper bill was a mistake. that was until you began checking the charge on the mobile app which was linked to frankie’s card—that could only mean one thing—he was the one stupid enough to actually do it.

“alright, nice knowing you, hermano,” santiago immediately stood up, ruffling the hair of the youngest morales in the process.

“uh-uh, you got this, fish,” benny nodded, signaling his brother, will, to pick up the pace by getting himself off the camping chair.

will placed his beer into frankie’s secondary cup holder. “you're gonna need that more than me, man.”

his friends were quick to make themselves scarce.

frankie exhaled, looking mighty guiltily at you through the screen door. “hey mami, you look as radiant as ever,” he began though only earning squinted eyes from you.

the two other children were running up to their father when they noticed him going towards the screen door. they might have been his last saving grace.

[avastrasposts]

The Blind Date

Plot: Your friend Benny sets you up on a blind date with his friend.

Frankie Morales x female reader

Warnings: None what so ever, it's all fluff

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: Someone said imagine going on a blind date with Frankie, and I did! Just a little Sunday snack to serve as distraction from everything else.

“So, I’ve got this friend…” Benny snatched a beer from the fridge and handed it to you before grabbing one for himself, “and he’s single…” 

“No, no blind dates, Benny, please!” you protested as you stirred the sizzling garlic, “I’ve been on your street all but five minutes, and you want to set me up? I need to find a new favorite coffee place and a new hairdresser before I can even start thinking about dating again.” 

“It’s been like two months since you moved here, and you should only get your coffee from Beany’s on Maple. And this guy, I’ve been saving him for you…” Benny wiggled his eyebrows up and down as you shook your head, “I’ve got plenty of other female single friends asking for his number, but I’ve said no, I was saving him for someone special.” 

“More like, you’ve slept with all your other female single friends, and you’re not about to hand him sloppy seconds,” you scoffed, “I know you, Benjamin Miller, you were a slut before you settled down.” 

“Ok, we’re not discussing my former dating life here, but rather the lack of yours,” Benny retorted, pointing the neck of his beer bottle at you, “And I’ve already given him your number, so you can expect a call from a certain Francisco Morales any day now.” 

“Is this the guy you call ‘Fish’?” you asked. Over the years you’ve heard a lot about ‘Fish’, ‘Pope’ and ‘Redfly’ from Benny. Mostly he told you about his brother Will though, ‘Ironhead’ to the rest of them. 

“Yeah, that’s the one. And you should give him a chance, go out on one date at least, I know you guys will get along because you both enjoy ribbing me any chance you get,” he chuckled as you nodded along. 

“Well, in that case, I like him already.” 

Francisco Morales didn’t call you the next day, he texted, which put him back in the negatives in your book. But you’d promised Benny to go on one date with this guy, so you accepted when he asked if you’d like to meet him for dinner at a local tapas place. Now you were walking into that place, hoping the evening wouldn’t be a total bust. You’d made plans with your best friend from back home to call you in thirty minutes to give you an out if the evening went sideways. Enough time for some olives and a glass of wine and then decide if this friend of Benny’s was worth a Saturday night. 

“Oh, you’re in luck!” the hostess exclaimed as you gave her Francisco’s name, “He managed to book one of our best tables, and with the weather this nice, it’s perfect. Just follow me!”

The hostess escorted you through the restaurant and out to the patio in the back, your opinion of your blind date going up as you saw the space. It was a small patio overlooking the river and surrounded by lush greenery and tropical flowers.  A large tree strung with fairy lights illuminated a few tables, the breeze making them move and twinkle.

The hostess took you to a table at the edge of the patio, sheltered from the rest of the restaurant by the trunk of the tree and with a view of the river below. The man that was already seated stood up as you approached. 

“Here you go, miss, your server will be with you shortly,” the hostess said and slipped away as you held out your hand to the man. 

“Hi, you must be Francisco.”

“Hi, yeah, I am, but it’s usually Frankie, or Frank,” he replied, taking your hand with a shy smile, “Or maybe ‘Fish’, since you’re Benny’s friend.” 

He pulled out your chair for you, and you sat down, taking a moment to look him up and down as he moved to his own chair. He was almost as tall as Benny, and almost as wide, but there was definitely more softness to him. Both in his face, his chin covered in a short trimmed patchy beard, and in the way he moved. When Benny had a confident swagger that bordered on the obnoxious if you didn’t know him, Francisco, ‘Frankie’ you corrected yourself, had a softer brand of confidence, one that was less obvious and gave him an air of shyness that came through as he sat down and glanced over at you. 

“Yeah, I’ve heard of ‘Fish’,” you smiled, “but he introduced you as Francisco when he set me up for this.” 

“Please, don’t believe half the stories,” Frankie returned your smile, dimples appearing in his cheeks, just as the server approached. 

Once drinks and food had arrived, the rest of the evening flowed easily. Frankie wasn’t as shy as he first came across, making you almost cry with laughter as he told you stories of some of the things he and Benny had gotten up to while deployed together. You repaid him by sharing some of your favorite ‘The Miller boys get into trouble’ stories from your time growing up. Frankie told you he’d file them away for careful future use while you were silently thanking Benny for setting you up with this man, he’d been right when he said you’d get along. 

Frankie offered to drive you home, apologizing for the state of his old truck as he tossed a child’s toy in the booster seat in the back. Over dinner he’d told you about his four year old daughter, confessing that it made dating complicated, but that therapy had made him realize that he needed to prioritize himself too, if he was going to be a better dad to her. The sentiment had almost made you tear up, something in the way Frankie’s face softened when he talked about his daughter. 

The truck was old but cozy, rumbling to life as the radio came on to a typical ‘dad’ station with old rock. Frankie left the windows down as he drove through the almost empty streets across town. One hand on the steering wheel, the other resting either on the stick, or on the bench seat, close enough to your leg so that his pinky brushed against the fabric of your dress. You wanted to take his hand and lace your fingers through his, feel the warmth on your skin as he hummed along to Eddie Vedder. 

The drive wasn’t long enough, you wish you lived further away, but it turned out you lived only a mile from his house. He pulled up to your place in the middle of an argument about Nirvana and Guns n’ Roses. Frankie’s eyes were bulging out of his head as you refused to admit that Appetite for Destruction was a better album than Nevermind, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he began to laugh when you stuck your tongue out to him like a petulant five year old. 

“My daughter pulls the exact move when she runs out of excuses for why she shouldn’t be going to bed,” he chuckled as the truck went silent, “Just admit it, you’re wrong and I win.” 

“Never!” you declared dramatically and began to laugh too, thumping Frankie’s shoulder as he mimicked you with a cheeky grin. You didn’t want this date to end, you couldn’t remember the last time someone made you feel this good by just hanging out with them. Frankie made you laugh, asked about your life, shared details of his own. And when he touched upon more serious subjects, the death of Redfly, his divorce, he made you want to reach out and comfort him, to soothe some of the pain that flashed across his face. 

“I had a great time,” you admitted, as Frankie walked you to the door, “I’ll never hear the end of it from Benny.” 

Frankie smiled and nodded, “Same, I had a great time too, and I know Ben’s gonna be obnoxious about it. But I’d love to see you again, it’ll be worth putting up with his smug face for that.” 

“I’d like that,” you replied, stopping as you came to your front door, “Give me a call?” 

“You can count on it,” he answered, dropping his hand that had been resting on the small of your back. He suddenly glanced down at his shoes and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, before he looked up at you again. 

“Can I…kiss you goodnight?” he asked, his voice low and warm. There was a smile there, like he knew you wouldn’t say no, not after the evening you’d just shared. 

“Yes, please,” you replied, resisting the urge to look at his mouth, lacing your fingers through his as he moved closer, his breath ghosting over your lips. 

The warmth of his palm on your cheek was easy, natural, and then his lips found yours in a heartbeat. Heat flooded your body, your free hand finding his shoulder and holding on to the solid body under his shirt. Frankie let slip a low hum, deepening the kiss as you parted your lips to his tongue. He let go of your hand and wrapped his arm around your waist instead, pulling you closer as you took hold of his shirt, bunching it up in your fist, heart pounding in your chest. 

It was over far too soon, leaving you both slightly breathless and glass eyed as Frankie loosened his hold around your waist, but still kept you close. 

“Are you free tomorrow night?” he mumbled, his eyes still on your mouth. 

“Yes,” you replied, transfixed by the way his plump bottom lip looked after being kissed, rosy and slick. You reached up and slid your thumb across it, making Frankie briefly close his eyes. They were a shade darker when he opened them again. 

“Frankie,” you asked, “do you have plans for tomorrow morning?” 

He took a couple of beats to answer, his eyes narrowing with a slight smile. 

“No, I have no plans for tomorrow morning,” he finally replied and you tore your gaze from his mouth to look into his eyes.  

“Do you want to have breakfast with me?” 

“I would love to have breakfast with you,” he mumbled as you fumbled for your keys, pushing the door open. His lips were on yours again before you’d even grabbed him, pulling him over the threshold. 

Across the street, Benny grinned and got up from his porch swing. 

Endless thanks to @i-own-loki for the lovely banner as always! Despite broken wifi and too much snow! :D

[insomniamamma]

Better Man: Frankie Morales x Benny Miller

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff. Mentions of death. Angst. Implied smut but nothing super graphic. Kissing. Angst connected to homophobia. Some salty language. Friends to lovers.

A/N: So I started this fic some time ago, and given the recent queerphobic nastiness in the PPCU fandom I dusted it off and finished it. Get wrecked homophobes. Also, I head cannon all of my Pedro boys and all of my reader inserts as bi, so if you have a problem with that just block me and save yourself the trouble.

"You know he likes you, right?” “I hope he does,” says Frankie, “Ben’s like a brother to me.” Pope gives him that flat eyed are you shitting me look. “I’m not stupid, Frank, I see how you light up when he’s around. He lights up too. I see how you look at him-“ “It’s not like that,” Frankie feels his face and ears go hot, “Besides, Will’d kill me.” “You really think Will doesn’t know? “There’s nothing to know, Pope. Please, just leave it alone.” “Alright, ‘fish. It’s okay though, if you and him—“ “We’re not. I gotta get out there. Fight’s starting soon.”

Frankie can’t pin down when he knew, or even what he knew. There weren’t words for it, not in that place and time, remembers looking at other guys in locker rooms, in showers in the chow line, in boot camp and past, never thought much of it, never let himself think much of it, the breadth of shoulders, of corded necks. Told himself it was the same as admiring a marble statue, appreciating a piece of art, same as looking at a pretty girl walking down the street. Assumed that everyone else thought the same. There was one boy in high school, senior to his sophomore, on the varsity team while Frankie was a jV bench warmer. He hadn’t been trying to make an advance, not in the way he understood it, hey, I really like you, can we be friends? What are you, some kind of fucking faggot? And that desire had scabbed over like a wound, something to scar over and ignore.

“Jesus, Ben, you gotta start being more careful.” Dabs Benny’s split eyebrow with iodine. “C’mon, Fish, I kicked that dude’s ass. Ow! Shit!” Flinches away when Frankie superglues the wound closed, skin pinched between his gloved fingers, blows across the skin to help the glue cure faster. “What about the next dude? And the one after that?” Smoothes over the cut with steri strips just to be sure, tracing the curve of the younger man’s brow. “You’re gonna get hurt, Benny. Really hurt, not just cuts and scrapes, and I won’t—“ “M’okay, Cat.” Benny lightly grips Frankie’s wrists, pulls his worried, fretting hands away from his face, “Promise.Pinky swear.” Frankie laughs, and links his pinky finger with Ben’s, holds those warm blue eyes for maybe a beat too long.

After. After everything went sideways. After Redfly’s blood pooling on the split rocks, eyes fixed on nothing, heart took a few seconds to get the message, blood squeezed out in an idiot halo. After the lawyers brokered the deal, after the NDA signed, after they all took separate flights back home to avoid suspicion, tried to settle back into the rat-run of their daily lives, Pope off to Australia to meet up with his girl and good for him. And for Frankie? It’s back to child support payments that he only just meets, doing maintenance on the light aircraft and gliders that make this sad, oft patched runway their home. License suspended pending review, but Christ knows how long that will take. Keeps his head low, the weight of what happened scrapes him raw, had to attend Redfly’s funeral, Molly holding her daughter and eyeing them stone faced because she knew their cover story was bullshit, Will rested a hand on her arm to offer comfort and she’d drawn back as if burned. The three of them clustered out back of the funeral home, taking nips of whiskey from Will’s flask, melted away into the noise of their own lives. Pope still gone and no one sure if he was ever coming back.

Fish still helps Benny get ready for his fights, wraps his hands, queues the pre-fight playlist that hypes him up in the grotty locker room of whatever high school or fire hall is hosting off hours for a quick cash infusion, AC/DC blasting out through a tinny wi-fi speaker.

“I fucking love these guys,” Benny tells him, “Like, they’re a rock band and all of their songs are about fuckin rock-n-roll and partying and shit. Like KISS, they do the same shit—“

“Mama used to tell me KISS was the Devil’s music, it stands for knights in satan’s service-“ Benny laughs, bright blue eyes turned up in crescents and Frankie’s heart squeezes, it’s been so long since he’s seen Ben laugh, really laugh—

“Are you serious? KISS is so tame—“

“Not to her they weren’t. Francisco Patricio Joseph Morales," his voice pitches up in an imitation of his Mama, “You turn that off right now!” Benny grins bright and laughs, but even so, Frankie can see the shadow in his eyes, the darkness that lurks behind, the darkness that drives him in the ring. Always fought fair before, but now?

“You get fouled one more time and they’re not going to let you fight—“ “Who gives a fuck—“ “I give a fuck! It’s like you’re trying to get fouled, like you’re tryin to get hurt! You’re reckless, Ben! It’s like you’re tryin to die—“ Benny shoves him, hands planted against his chest, hard enough to rock him back against the lockers, blunt bits of combination locked latches digging into his back, “He blames me, okay? I lit that fucking fire, with my fucking fuck you money and look where that got us—“ “That wasn’t your fault-“ “I got Tom killed—“ “That fuckin kid was tracking us the second we left that village.“ “Yeah? Well tell Will that-“ “Fuck Will! We all played our part! If its anyone’s fault it’s all our faults!” Frankie reaches for Benny, cradles his bruised and bloody face and holds those blue eyes to his, “You. Me. Will, Pope and Tom! We went there together! We were all in—“ “It hurts, Fish,” Benny’s voice small and choked, tears overspilling his lashes, sluicing clean through fresh oozing blood, and Frankie feels his own eyes scrimned over, and there’s nothing he could ever say to make it better. Frankie moves before he can think better of it, pulls Ben into the circle of his arms and kisses him, chaste press of lips, feels Benny’s in-drawn breath, closes his eyes and drops his hands, rests his forehead against Benny’s, braced for the rebuke, for the accusation, for the shove and the get the fuck off me faggot.

Benny grips his hair, and kisses him hard, all teeth and tongue and peeling him open, and all Frankie can do is wind his arms around Ben’s middle, let himself be pushed against the lockers again, open his mouth and kiss back, pressed so close together he can almost feel the younger man’s heart through his shirt, and when they break apart Benny buries his face in Franki'es neck. Frankie cups the back of Benny’s head and draws him in closer, as if his hand was made to press him close and keep him safe.

They keep it quiet. An eye roll, a shared glance, a quick dropping of intertwined hands when Will or Pope comes back to the table with the next round of drinks. “I don’t know if Will would understand,” says Ben, the two of them pressed together like spoons in a drawer, Frankie wrapped around him, belly to spine like a protective wall, face tucked into his nape, breathing the warm, sleepy smell of him. Frankie slits his eyes against the morning light through the windows, not ready to kick the blankets off and start his day, not ready to leave the steady rise and fall of Benny’s breath, his warmth, not just yet. “Why’re you so scared about it?” “I don’t know. I wanted to be just like him, you know? Tough. Strong. I spent so long trying to be just like him, what happens when he finds out I'm not?” “He loves you, Ben, he’s your brother.” “Yeah, but not like he thought. I’m not like him, Fish.” “You’re like you,” Frankie murmurs into Benny’s hair, “Go back to sleep, Baby. We got nowhere to be.”

“I know who I’m going to kiss,” Yovanna, “Este hombre feo-“ “I make up for it in other ways,” Santi grins and wiggles his eyebrows. “Fuckin dork,” says Benny, “Can’t believe you fell for Pope’s bullshit, ‘Vanna,” “He fell first,” she grins, “Silly man.” Times Square in on the TV screens above the bar, counting down the minutes. “How bout you, Will?” says Pope, “That lady cryin into her whiskey sour looks desperate enough-“ “Fuck you, Pope,” says Will, but there’s no real venom in it, “I got three minutes to figure that shit out.” “You gotta kiss someone at midnight,” says Benny, “It’s bad luck if you don’t.” “So who’re you gonna kiss?,” asks Will. “I’m just fuckin around,” says Benny, and doubt and dread spike deep in Frankie’s belly, together half the year but still haven’t found the courage to speak of it. Frankie knows that Pope suspects, he pokes at the two of them whenever the opportunity arrives, casts his eyes in Santi’s direction, hoping that he’ll dummy up. “Kiss your man,” says Will. “My man?” “You two aren’t exactly sneaky,” says Will. “You knew?” says Fish. “Of course we knew,” says Pope, “You start smiling like idiots whenever you’re within five feet of each other. I know what love looks like, ‘fish.” He glances at Yovanna when he says this and she dimples back at him. Frankie feels tension roll off him, shoulders dropping for the first time in a good long while. “Now let’s see if Will can smooth-talk whiskey sour lady in the next 1 minute and 37 seconds.”

Four three two one, and they kiss, soft press of parted lips and gliding tongues, as the bar erupts into cheers, strains of Auld Lang Syne from the TV and all the raised voices sing along, should old acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind, they stand stone still in the festive chaos, foreheads pressed together. Hallelujah kicks up on the juke because of course it does, hands find hips just like at prom, palms pressed together, Benny leads and Frankie tucks his face into the join of Ben’s neck and shoulder, lets himself be held, lets himself breathe in Benny’s solidity and warmth. Feels Will and Pope and ‘Vanna clap their backs and throw their arms around them in a drunken huddle. “Took you assholes long enough,” says Pope.

The sidewalks are damp and smell of rain. Frankie finds Will maneuvering his tear-streaked new friend into a cab asking her to text so he knows she got home safe. “Is she good?” Will chuckles. “Her ex served her divorce papers just in time for New Years, so probably not.” “That sucks” “Yeah.” “Are you good with this? With me and Ben-“ “Who better than you?,” says Will, “I know you’ll take care of my brother.”

[musings-of-a-rose]

Hey! I don’t know if you’re taking requests but I just had a really angsty, sad Frankie idea. Reader used to be in Delta force with the guys but something bad happened, reader dies or is really badly injured. Frankie takes her hat, Standard Heating Oil, and from then on, he wears it every single day as a tribute to his fallen team member (who he was secretly in love with. Maybe he told reader, maybe he didn’t…) Anyway, that’s my idea. Thanks!

Catfish and Shadow

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f! Reader

Word Count: 5400+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: This was such a good ask! It hurts in all the right ways. I’m actually going to pull a little from a real life experience that happened to my husband. If I remember, I’ll put an author’s note at the end with what happened! Huge thanks to @rhoorl for beta reading - if you haven't checked our her fics, go now!

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Frankie Morales Masterlist

“Hold on, Shadow. There’s still some hair sticking out from under your hat.” Frankie turns slightly to me from his place next to me in the dark hallway, reaching up to tuck a random strand of my loose hair under my hat. His fingers linger slightly as his eyes glance down at mine, a quick, soft smile on his face, seeming like he wants to say something but changes his mind at the last minute.

“One of these days you’ll have to tell me what the Standard Heating Oil is from,” Frankie says to me, nodding up to the patch label on my hat. 

“If we get out of this alive, I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

“It’s a deal. Please be safe, Shadow.”

“I always am. Plus, I have you watching my ass so I know I’ll be good.” His ears turn pink as he stammers. But before he can retort, Redfly, our leader, clears his throat. “Everyone ready? Shadow, your hat secure? We don’t want them knowing you’re a woman if we can help it.”

I nod, swallowing down the nerves in my stomach. “Yes, sir.”

Redfly nods at me before looking at Frankie. “Make sure to watch her six. She’s smaller than you, less noticeable, so she’ll be on the ground.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Ironhead, Pope, Benny. Ready?” They all grunt their affirmatives, shifting their stance and double checking their concealed weapons were still concealed. “Alright. Let’s move.”

Quietly, we all file out from the darkened hallway, making our way to the front of the clay hut where we had changed into our undercover civilian clothes. The mission was to make it to a building several blocks away and gain access, taking out the mercenaries inside. So far, they have no idea we’re here. Waiting a minute or 2 between people, I leave the hut, taking a left turn towards the center of the town, feeling Frankie’s eyes on me from the rooftops, where he had assumed his position several minutes earlier. 

“Duck your head to the right when you round this corner. There’s a group of men,” His voice rasps in my ear over the speaker. I’ll never get over how sexy his voice sounds in this thing, and maybe one day I’ll have the guts to actually tell him. I do as he says, shifting my head more right as I round the corner, pretending to look at some wares a shopkeeper had set up. Luckily the men took zero notice of me, laughing loudly at some joke, their guns slung over their shoulders swaying with their laughter. 

“Lookin’ good, Shadow. Just normal civiies all the way to the rendezvous.” I nod slightly, following my orders to say nothing as my voice would give me away not only as a female, but an American as well. I make it to the rendezvous and lean against a wall, looking like I was bored waiting for someone but really I was watching the building front several feet away. A few men file out, but the door closes behind them solidly. I watch the building for several more minutes, hearing the rest of my squad all make it to their positions.

“Advance.” Redfly’s voice speaks in my ear and I push off from the wall, nonchalantly heading towards the front door. No one even looks at me aside from Frankie, who’s eyes I feel boring into me. Taking a deep breath, I make it to the front door, raise my fist, and knock twice, then once, then 3 more times in rapid succession, repeating the pattern the other men had used before entering. The door opens and a man stands there, his eyes meeting mine and briefly showing his non-recognition before the smoke bomb I had concealed in my hand clanks to the floor behind him. 

Smoke billows out quickly from the bomb and I duck to the side of the building, hearing Benny, Ironhead, and Pope advance, their gunfire quietly echoing inside the thick clay building. I meet Redfly around the back and he slides me a gun, both of us covering the back exit, taking out a few men who tried to escape instead of holding down the building. One man we miss, but Frankie’s silent but deadly shot rings out from above, the man crumpling to ground, his body silent and unmoving, eyes open but the person gone. 

We hear the team move through the rest of the small, 3-storied house, clearing out the floors, Redfly taking out another 2 that tried to escape through the front door where he had moved to a few minutes earlier. No one else tries to come out the back door and then we hear Benny call through the mic. “Clear.” Redfly and I move inside, me following behind him in through the front, meeting the rest of the ground team inside. I stand near the front door, watching the boys as I wait for Redfly to tell Frankie to meet up with us. I’ll feel better once he’s here. 

“Frankie, make your way here,” Redfly commands in his mic, Frankie confirming before going quiet again. 

“Did you locate the stash?” Redfly addresses the ground team. Benny shakes his head. 

“There’s a large trunk upstairs that we need to inspect.” 

Redlfy nods. “Anything else?”

Suddenly, a large, unfamiliar arm wraps around me, pulling me tight to someone’s chest, a gun barrel shoved into my temple, rapid words in a language I barely understand being spewed out over my head. My hands wrap around his arm but I can’t force it, the gun barrel pushing in further to my head. I don’t need to understand the language to know he’s telling me to not move. I freeze, the men in front of me desperately trying to negotiate my release, Ironhead rapidly spitting back words in the language I’m kicking myself for not picking up quicker. But then I hear a voice that instantly warms me, tells me everything will be ok and I swear if I make it out of here, I’m telling him exactly how I feel. 

“Let her go and put down the gun.” Frankie’s voice is low and demanding, sending a shudder up my spine but not for the same reason as the man behind me, desperately clutching me to his chest. Ironhead repeats Frankie’s words back to him in his language, a quick conversation happening between them. I feel the man’s grip start to loosen, but then a quiet pop sounds, Frankie’s yell ripping through the room as another shot follows, the man that had been holding me falling to the side, a bullet ripping through his neck as he clutches at it, the last few moments of his life spewing from him before he slumps and doesn’t move. It’s not until he hits the ground that I start to feel lightheaded.

“Shadow? Shadow, talk to me!” Frankie is there, dropping himself to the floor as he holds me in his lap, his hand moving to lift up my shirt. Pain rips through me and I grunt, his quiet shushing holding me here as he lifts the edge of my shirt up. He schools his face and that’s when I know it’s bad.

“You didn’t have to wait for me to get shot to take off my shirt, you know.” I can feel the pain sinking in now, the bullet lodged somewhere in my abdomen, slowly signing my death warrant. 

Frankie chuckles, swallowing hard to fight back tears. “Is that so?” I can hear Redfly yelling into his mic demanding a medic chopper to our location, the rest of the boys close but giving Frankie and I a little space.

I nod, coughing a little and whimpering at the pain that is caused by the soft movement. “You only had to ask.”

He smiles, tears he can’t stop welling up in the corners of his eyes. “Well that’s good to know. When you get patched up, I’ll take you up on that.”

I smile as best I can, my head feeling like it’s harder and harder to stay here. I blink and Frankie squeezes me lightly. “Hey, stay with me querida. Medic is almost here.”

I swallow hard, now feeling the pool of blood that’s collecting on the floor as it sinks into my pant leg. “Frankie, I don’t-”

“Sshh. Don’t say anything. You’re going to make it. You just have to hold on.”

But already there’s black at the edge of my vision, quickly beckoning me to unconsciousness, my head feeling more and more heavy as I lose more blood. I feel my eyes start to flutter closed as Frankie calls my name, the sound of a chopper getting louder and I’m trying to focus on his voice, his beautiful voice, but then I can’t, sleep taking me over as Frankie yells my real name…

“No! No, you have to stay with me!” Frankie yells, slightly shaking her body which had become more limp as her eyes flutter closed. Medics push in and at first Frankie tries to hold on to her tight, but then Pope and Benny are pulling him from her, letting the medics move in and try to stabilize her.

His Shadow. The love of his life. Why had he never told her?

Quick, rushed movements over her body, rapid words exchanged between the few medics before they place her on a stretcher, quickly moving her to the chopper waiting just beyond the buildings outside. Frankie moves to follow her, but Redfly grabs his arm. 

“We need to finish the mission, Cat.”

Frankie’s eyes flash with anger. “What the fuck, Redlfy? Shadow is dying on that chopper. I’m going with her!”

“No you aren’t. That’s an order.”

“Then court marshal me.” But it’s already too late. Frankie hears the chopper ascend, carrying the person he loves most in this world away from him as she bleeds out, alone. Well not alone, but not with him. 

Frankie screams, dropping to his knees as pushes his face into his hands, tugging on his hair. They let him have this moment, all of them feeling the loss of her, like a gaping hole that they have to patch up quickly that won’t feel the same. A minute goes by before Benny moves forward, dropping to a knee next to Frankie and putting his hand on his shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. 

“Hey man. I’m sure she’ll be ok.”

Frankie’s tear stained face looks up at him. “You don’t know that.”

“You’re right. I don’t. But I do know we have to finish this mission so we can all get back safe and find her. She wouldn’t want to lose all of us because we didn’t move in time.”

The anger in Frankie’s eyes simmers at Benny’s words. He’s right. He may hate it but he’s right. Frankie nods, wiping his eyes on the back of his sleeve. He moves to stand up but then he sees it on the floor, Shadow’s hat, the Standard Heating Oil logo dusty from being on the dirt floor. Frankie picks it up and dusts it off, quickly adjusting it to his size before snugly placing it on his head. Everyone nods at him, accepting this way to honor their injured teammate. 

The mission is a success and they all get lifted back to base. It had been a few days since Shadow was airlifted back to medics and Frankie was itching to see if she was ok. He was determined to tell her how he feels the moment his eyes find hers. He makes his way to the medical building as soon as his boots hit the floor, Benny following behind him as the rest of the team goes to debrief. Frankie pushes open the front door and stops at the little receptionist desk, the woman behind it squinting at the screen as she slaps the side of the monitor.

“I swear they need to get us a flat panel or something. This thing is ancient.” She looks up at Frankie, a smile on her face. “How can I help you?”

“I’m looking for a soldier who would’ve come in 3 days ago, gunshot wound to the abdomen.” She nods as he gives her her name, the receptionist’s fingers clinking away at the keyboard. She squints at the screen again, another slap to the side of the monitor. 

“Yes I see her here…gunshot wound…and you are her...?”

“Teammate. We both are,” Frankie says as Benny nods over his shoulder. 

Her eyes move back to the screen as she reads some more, her lips moving with the words as she reads them. Then she stops, taking off her glasses and setting them to the side. She takes a breath and Frankie’s stomach falls out. 

“I’m sorry to tell you, but she passed.”

“Passed? What do you mean passed?” Frankie asks, the lady looking from him to Benny behind him, who had silent tears streaming down his cheeks already. 

“Fish-” Benny puts his hand on his shoulder but Frankie shrugs it off.

“No, don’t! What does she mean? Tell me!” He’s yelling now, Benny trying to pull him away from the receptionist, apologizing to her. She smiles sadly, a knowing look on her face. 

Frankie turns to Benny, gripping his sleeves as Benny tries to pull him into his chest. “No Ben, what..she..she can’t, I never told her-” and then he crumbles into Benny’s chest, face buried in his shoulder as he wails, a hole in his gut getting larger and larger as his grief consumes him. Benny holds him tight, his own tears at the loss of his friend that was like a sister to him, trickling down his cheeks as he listens to his best friend wail into the quiet hall. 

24 hours later they’re called out for another mission, Frankie pulling her hat on tight, the way he can carry her with him as he swallows down the grief that consumes him whenever he isn’t on a mission. He pours himself into his work, protecting his friends and doing what his country asks of him. 

I blink awake, the lights in whatever room I’m in are dimmed, giving the room a slight yellow-white glow. I shift and wince, the bullet would in my abdomen screaming at me to be still. I place my hand over it and feel a large bandage. It’s then I realize that I’m in a hospital gown and in a hospital bed, definitely not the med bay back at base. A nurse walks into the room and smiles at me.

“Oh you’re awake! How do you feel?”

“Like I was shot in the stomach,” I croak out as she hands me a cup of water, a straw sticking out of the top.

“Small sips. Yeah I would imagine it doesn’t feel great. Would you like something more for the pain?”

I take a small sip and cough, managing to swallow a little of it. “I don’t know, honestly. How long have I been out?”

She glances at my chart. “Several days.”

“Where am I?”

She names off a hospital and seems to see that I have no idea what she’s talking about. “It’s an American run hospital here.”

“So, I’m not on base then?”

She shakes her head. “No. They moved you here because of the severity of your wounds. Let me grab the doctor.” She leaves the room and returns 20 minutes later with a man in a white coat. He takes my chart from her and scans it, nodding. 

“How are we feeling?”

“Like we were shot in the stomach.” 

He chuckles at my recycled joke. “Yeah I imagine so. If you need anything stronger let us know.”

I nod. “The nurse mentioned I’m not on base?”

He shakes his head. “Your injuries were too extensive to be treated on base so they brought you here immediately. We had to do surgery to remove the bullet and repair the damage it caused. You’ll feel it for a while but there shouldn’t be any long term damage, aside from a scar.”

I nod. “Thank you, doctor.” He nods and leaves the room, the nurse coming back over to me.

“Do you need anything else?”

“Uh yeah, actually. Do you have clearance? To ask about another soldier?”

She nods. “I do.” She takes a paper and pen from her scrub pocket. “Write down their names and I’ll see what I can find out.”

I write down the names of my team mates, my heart tightening when I write Frankie’s name, him screaming my name with wide eyes the last thing I remember before blacking out. I hate that I put him through the ringer. It’s not my fault I know, but at least I made it and now I can tell him how I feel. I think he may feel the same for me?

The nurse leaves with my thanks and I’m left to flip through channels on the older tv that’s sitting on a hanging shelf in the upper corner of the room. There’s nothing on but I mindlessly flip through them, nervously waiting for the nurse to return. She comes back a few hours later, bringing with her my medication. 

“I’m sorry it took me a minute. There’s a lot of Miller’s to sift through.” 

I smile. “Yeah. Common name.” She hands me a cup with pills in it, telling me it’s my pain meds and other post surgery ones. But it’s the way she’s not quite meeting my eyes that puts me on alert. I take the meds as requested, handing her back the small paper cup.

“Just me tell me. Please.”

The nurse sighs and hesitates a brief moment before taking my hand, gently swiping her tumb across the back of my hand.

“I’m sorry dear. But none of them made it. Looks like a classified mission. ”

I pause. “What?”

“N-none of them made it.”

“Did you tell them Delta Force? Sometimes we’re in a different section.”

She nods. “Yes, ma’am. It’s…confirmed.” She squeezes my hand but I can’t register anything else she says over the high pitched ringing in my ears. Gone? That can’t be right. They were all very much alive when I…no no no! They can’t be…Frankie can’t be….The wail that rips from my throat sounds inhuman, grief spewing from my body as I scream, the nurse trying to calm me, the stitches on my stomach bursting with pain as my stomach contracts and I throw up, continuing to scream as other nurses come into the room, one of them pushing a needle into my arm and I slowly pass out, the last thought I have is of Frankie and his big, brown eyes and how I’ll never see them again.

There was no funeral. Or rather it had been finished before I could leave the hospital. I couldn’t bring myself to fly out to their graves, to see their names etched in stone. Instead, I stayed at my parent’s house, grief and depression consuming me for years. Eventually I crawled out, poking my head above the surface and taking a small breath in the form of painting. I was pretty good at it too. I sold several pieces and some rich guy commissioned me to do paintings for every room in his house. Once that was completed, several of his friends reached out and before I knew it, I had quite a little business going. 

It felt good, to do something with my hands besides peeling back the skin at the corners of my nails. The hole the boys left was still very much there and I suspect it will never quite go away. But the wound Frankie’s death left behind still hurts almost as much as it did when I first found out he died about 7 years ago. Once I started painting, my parents tried to set me up on dates, but nothing ever took. I don’t want any of them. The other half of me is buried in the earth and I’ve been coming to terms with that. Which will probably take the rest of my life and the next. 

My phone bings and I set down my brush, swallowing hard as I look at the shade of brown paint, nearly an exact match for Frankie’s eyes. A quick glance and it’s a text from my mom.

Mom: You’re still coming this weekend?

Yes mom. I promised I’d house sit for you after the party.

Mom: Are you sure? It’s such a long way

Mom, it’s your 30th anniversary. I’m not missing that.

Mom: Well, if you’re sure. Don’t forget to pack that lovely dress I bought you.

Of course. Just promise not to set me up with anyone

Mom: See you Friday!

I don’t like the way she avoided that last one, but I can easily get rid of them. Once they get a glimpse of my PTSD, they run. 

Friday rolls around and I step off the plane, pulling my backpack up higher on my shoulder, spotting my dad through the crowd of people waiting just beyond TSA. He smiles wide and pulls me to him in a tight hug. 

“Your mom wanted to come but there was some last minute emergency with the cake.”

“Sounds serious.”

He chuckles and I smile. I had missed my parents. 

“Wanna grab a drink before we head home?”

“Shit, she set me up didn’t she?”

He laughs loudly this time. “She’s pretty obvious, huh? She’s just worried about you, kid. But-” he puts his hands in the air as I open my mouth to protest “-I told her you wouldn’t be interested and to leave you alone. As far as I know, she understands. Or at least she pretends to.”

A quick drink at an unfamiliar bar and then I’m walking back into my childhood home, nearly the same as it was from my childhood, just newer electronics. My mom comes into the room, her phone clutched to her ear as she listens to someone rattle off on the other end. 

“Well I don’t care how it’s done but do it! The party is tomorrow!” She hangs up and sighs before giving me a tight hug.

“Everything ok, mom?”

“Oh yeah. Just people not wanting to do their jobs. But it’s fine! You’re here!”

The party passes in a blur, one guy coming to talk to me briefly before my dad whisks him away, giving me a wink as he does so. The party was beautiful and romantic, my parent’s love on full display. They leave right after the party, jetting off to Europe for 2 weeks, the honeymoon they never got to have. And as the only child without my own children, I get the honor of house-sitting, which isn’t too bad. It’s nice to get away from the city and all the bustle it brings. 

Sunday morning I wake when I want, stretching before I head downstairs for some coffee, scratching absentmindedly at the scar on my stomach as I slide my hand under my Fleetwood Mac shirt. No, not mine. His. I had swiped it from him before our mission, a practical joke for when we returned from our mission and he saw it was missing. I slept with it for months after his death, eventually putting it in a ziploc bag when I noticed the smell fading and only brought it out on his birthday and when life got a little too hard. With all the love celebrating last night, my heart hurt and hung heavy, old tears falling new on my cheeks as I excused myself to cry in the bathroom for a bit, missing my what could have been. So I figured I needed the shirt. Sighing, I take a sip of my coffee, staring out of the back window at my mother’s garden, trying to take in it’s beauty and not fall too far into my own grief.

“You’re really going out there?” Benny asks Frankie, watching him toss clothes into a backpack.

“Yeah. We never went out there when we got back and I think it’s time. I just feel it.”

Benny nods. “I get it man, but what are you gonna say to her parents? ‘Sorry I never came to the funeral?’”

Frankie gives his friend a look as he zips up his backpack. “I don’t know, Ben. I just…after all these years, and the shit I’ve been through, I…I need to see her.”

Benny gives his friend a small smile. “Tell Shadow we’ll make it an annual thing and all come out to see her next year. Put an extra flower down for me?”

“I’ll make sure she knows one of them is from you.”

Benny takes his friend to the airport, pulling him into a bear hug before he boarded. The flight was uneventful, Frankie constantly checking the note in his phone with her parent’s address on it. He’d had it all these years, but never could bring himself to visit, to tell them her death was his fault, that he should’ve shot sooner or just taken the guy out. But he couldn’t tell them that, classified, and then he poured himself into his work, earning himself a sleeping disorder, a drug addiction, and a strong case of PTSD. He’d come out the other side of the addiction with the help of his friends, but the sleeping issues and PTSD remained. He supposed they always would, watching her face as the life drains from her, the love of his life. 

He gets out of the rental car, taking a deep breath as he walks up the drive to the front door. It’s a nice house on a quiet street and for a moment, he listens to the sounds of the neighborhood, picturing what it must have been like for her to have grown up here, run up and down these same front steps. Tears well in his eyes and he tries to swallow them back as he knocks, afraid that if he doesn’t do it now, he’ll back out and run away, not able to at least look her parents in the eye.

But when the door opens, it’s not her mom or dad or any of her siblings. Frankie’s breath catches in his throat, his heart beating so rapidly he’d swear it was beating out of his chest, his brain trying to process what he’s seeing. 

“Frankie?” 

I’m halfway through my cup of coffee when someone knocks at the door. I think my mom said some packages were being delivered but I don’t want them to sit on the porch. I set my mug down and walk to the front door, unlocking it and opening it to look into deep brown eyes. Eyes I thought I would never see again. My heart leaps from my chest, my stomach twisting, my brain rapidly trying to make sense of what I’m seeing. Have I finally lost it? Gone mad with grief? But then a slight breeze picks up and his hair moves and I snap out of it just enough.

“Frankie?” I think I say it, my brain still not sure if I’m hallucinating.

“Sh-Shadow?” His fingers reach towards me, barely ghosting across my cheek, but..they’re real. I can feel him touching me. He’s real and alive and I’m so confused but it can’t be my brain tricking me, right?

Suddenly he reaches out, yanking me to his chest and burying his nose in my hair, my arms winding around him and gripping him tight, inhaling him as my face presses to his chest. Tears flow freely as I grab at him, feeling him solidly under my grasp. 

“I thought you were dead,” he cries into me, his tears making my hair damp.

“I thought you were dead!”

He pulls away a small bit and takes my face in his hands, his eyes looking between mine. “This is real, right? You’re really…real?”

I nod. “I am. Are you?”

“I am. I…I love you!” And then his lips are pressed to mine, soft and slightly chapped, one of his hands sliding around to the back of my head, the other settling on my hip. I kiss him back, pouring a decades worth of love and grief into that kiss for several moments before a sob erupts from my throat and I break the kiss, heaving as I cling to his shirt.

“I-I-I’m s-s-s-sorry! I-I-I l-l-love y-you t-t-too!” My sobs break up my speech and I feel ridiculous, but Frankie laughs and I start to cry all over again. I’d forgotten his laugh and how warm it makes me feel and I would do anything to hear that sound for the rest of my life. 

“I am barely holding it together, querida. I-wait. Is that my Fleetwood Mac shirt?”

My sobs turn into a seal bark of a laugh, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand, feeling his fingers on my hip still. 

“Yeah. Ha-ha I got you!”

He chuckles as he kisses me again, fingers digging deeper into my hip as he walks me back into the house, kicking the door closed behind him. 

Instead of talking, we spend the next several hours in bed, Frankie pressing himself between my legs, sliding into me as if we were made for each other, years of longing and grief poured into every meet of our hips. Once we get out of a lengthy shower, Frankie lays on my childhood bed and beckons me to him, pulling me down to him as I cuddle into his side, my hand on his chest and leg over his, his fingers tracing the end of the scar that derailed my life. Our lives.

“You’ve been alive all this time?” I ask, turning my head up to look at him. 

He nods sadly. “Yeah.”

“All of you?”

“Yeah, why?”

I cry again, guilty that I didn’t confirm this before he pressed me into my bed but I was so overwhelmed I didn’t even think about it. He holds me and gives me time to cry, speaking words of comfort in my ear. 

“I asked the nurse to look you all up and she said you had died. That…that all of you had…had…”

“What? No, we came back from the mission a few days…after. Then we had to ship out a day later on a new one. I asked the receptionist at the med building and she said you had died.”

Anger surges through me at the years we lost over incorrect records. “Ok, who do I have to fuck up for this? Because this was bullshit. I…I don’t have words, Frankie, I-”

“I know, querida. It was either wrong records or they looked at the wrong name. And I may seem calm, but inside I’m seething. I just…I’ll deal with that later. For now, I just want to hold you and celebrate the fact that you’re alive and…wait. Did you say you love me too?”

“Francisco Morales, you have touched my body in nearly every way possible and you’re questioning my love?”

“Well I’m still not entirely sure you’re real.”

I shift, leaning up to press my lips to his. “I guess we have all the time in the world to find out.”

2 months later, we get married in my parent’s backyard, all of the Delta Force boys there to cheer us on. 

Author’s Note: My husband is a veteran who served around the time of 9/11. He was injured overseas and left the army. His friends/team mates all signed back up. When he was able, he asked about his friends in order to stay in contact and was told they had all died, killed in action overseas. 

Flash forward nearly 2 decades later, he makes a comment in a Facebook page for memes and gets a comment back with his nickname from back in the day. One of his friends had actually been alive this entire time and that friend had been told that my husband had died. 

Facebook may be a lot of shit, but will always have a spot in my heart for it for bringing back my husband’s friend from the dead. I will never forget the look on his face when he came out to tell me!

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @giuliarogers-blog @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed   @ladykatakuri @marrianena  @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol   @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin @justreblogginfics @sullyosully @kmc1989

[something-tofightfor]

Liminality: Part 15

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Word Count: 11,066

Rating: M - There's some smut, but it's not graphic.

Summary: Now that the secret's out and you've lost the element of surprise, your plan of action needs to change.

With only two days to figure things out, you're pressed for time, meaning emotions are running high. There are some things you don't want to admit, but not speaking them out loud might just be worse.

Author’s note:

Frankie Friday, anyone? This chapter was a labor of love, and is beginning to set up things that I've been planning since I first came up with this story. I hope you all like it as much as I do. Thank you for reading.

Masterlist (for the journal entries and all of the other 'extras' + previous chapters)

You stayed at Ironhead’s, though you didn’t hide in the office while you were there. 

After sending out a group text to update Frankie, Pope and Yovanna - and a separate text to Frankie, explaining what had happened and that you were safe - you went out into the main bar area and took a seat at it. 

Both Will and Benny came out and kept you company, the older Miller joining the female bartender to help with the lunch rush while Benny plopped down on a stool beside you, both of them doing what it took to keep you distracted and your thoughts occupied. 

You ordered food that you only picked at, still trying to understand how, after so long of being so careful, you’d blown everything because you’d let Tom get under your skin. Which is exactly what he’s been trying to do this entire time. 

It had been stupid of you, and you knew it. But neither Benny or Will had looked angry or disappointed. Instead, they’d just seemed concerned, flipping immediately into protect mode as all of you waited to see what would happen. 

“I should have recorded it.” You hung your head, shoulders slumped. “Then you could all hear what we said. Then you could prepare for -”

“You didn’t. And there’s nothin’ you can do about that now.” Will leaned over the bar and said your name, waiting until you met his gaze to speak again. “The only thing you can do is get yourself ready for it. That’s all any of us can do.” 

“He’s right.” Benny put his hand on top of yours. “And I’m going to be right fucking there with you when he shows up. I want him to see what a piece of shit I think he is before -”

“Ben.” Will straightened up, head moving from side to side. “Not the place. Not the time.” Benny pulled his hand back and grumbled, reaching for the glass in front of him and downing most of it. “We’ll talk about it later.” 

You wondered how long it would take Frankie to see the messages and to get to you - and what his reaction would be. He’s going to be pissed. He’s going to be so pissed. You checked your phone and saw that there was a message from him from a few minutes earlier, and winced at the short, harsh nature of it. 

Stay where you are. I’m coming. 

“Frankie’s on his way.” You held your phone up. “I guess he’s done flying for the day.” Will dragged a hand through his hair and nodded, and Benny stood, flattening his hands on the bartop. 

“I’m going to go back into the office. I need to get some shit done before he gets here.” Will nodded, and as Benny turned away from both of you, you rubbed at the bridge of your nose. 

“I wish I could have seen the look on his face when you slipped.” Will picked up a towel and started rubbing at the already clean space in front of you. “He must have been pissed.”

“Probably. He was probably so mad that I figured it out faster than you guys did, or at least he thinks I did, anyway. But he was just … he gave me this look like… I don’t know, Will. It was scary. He stayed so still, and … he just smiled.” 

“Redfly does that.” He sighed. “It’s almost worse when he doesn’t react.” You agreed. “He got real good at it when we were enlisted, and that’s how we all knew shit was bad in South America. We’d never seen him the way he was then.” Will reached for your glass and then picked up the soda gun, tilting it to refill your drink. “And none of us have ever seen anything like now.” 

You dragged your thumb along the condensation on the bartop and then looked up at  the blonde. “I’m sorry.” You saw confusion on his face, Will frowning as he waited to see what else you’d say. “I’m sorry that your friend is … not what you thought. And that my being here brought it to -”

“He was doing this shit before you got here.” Will rolled his eyes. “You being here sped things up, but you didn’t cause it. You just made it real fucking clear that there’s no limit to what he’ll…” He clenched his jaw. “You being here is a good thing. Especially for ‘Fish.” 

Part of you agreed, but another part of you felt responsible for the fact that Frankie would need to end the life of someone he’d considered a brother for the majority of his adult life. Even though stopping Tom is important no matter what, it … 

“What does she owe you, Ironhead?” You felt him behind you as he spoke, Frankie pressing against your back as he wound his arms around you. “Because whatever it is, we’re paying and then leaving, and -” 

“It’s on the house, ‘Fish. You know that.” Will rubbed at his jaw and looked past you and at his friend. “We’re all good here. You good?” Frankie’s arm’s tightened around you and he didn’t say anything else, even as Benny reappeared at the end of the bar, a towel slung over one shoulder. 

“Good to see ya, man.” He sidestepped a stool and then stood next to you, resting one elbow on the wood. “Good flights today?”

“Real good.” You could hear the tension in his voice as well as feel it in the way he held you. One hand rose to stroke the length of his forearm without pause, your fingers glancing over the raised skin of his scar. Oh, Frankie. “Dinner at my place tonight. What time you off?”

“We can both be out of here at 7.” Will cleared his throat. “You tell Pope yet?” Frankie grunted out a no, and Will’s gaze shifted to Benny, who sighed, the sound heavy. 

“I’ll tell him. We’ll bring some beers. There a game on tonight?”

“Hell if I know.” Frankie’s arms finally loosened, his hands moving to rest on the back of your barstool. “I’ve been busy worrying about a bunch of other shit.” Ok, that’s enough. 

“Alright.” You stood, smiling at Will and then at Benny. “One of you tell Pope and Yova about dinner. We’ll order wings or something and have ‘em delivered.” You looked over at Frankie for the first time that night and were stunned to see how wrecked he looked, his skin paler than usual and his hair disheveled, like he’d spent the entire drive over running his hands through it. “Oh, Frankie.” 

Benny nudged you forward, and you reached for Frankie’s hand, your fingers slipping between his. Neither of you spoke as you headed for the exit, and once you were back out in the late afternoon sunshine, you took a deep breath, collecting your thoughts. “I’ll drive. I don’t want to let you out of my sight.” 

“I need my car, Frankie.” You turned to face him, reaching up to rub your thumb over his cheek. “Can’t just leave it here for the next couple days.We’re trying to keep things normal, so -”

“You can get it tomorrow.” He pulled you closer, hands settling on your hips as he stared you down. His eyes were still mostly brown, but they seemed lighter - and it wasn’t a brief change; it was constant. Oh, Frankie. “Please do not make me watch you walk away from me right now.” It was a simple enough request - and you could get the car the following day; you leaving it in the bar parking lot wasn’t out of the ordinary. Especially since Will and Benny own it. 

“Ok.” You nodded twice, and then leaned in to kiss him. “I’m fine, Francisco. It was scary when it happened, but …” You sighed. “There’s no way he would have tried anything in public or in front of the Millers.” 

“No, he wouldn’t have.” Frankie’s eyes shut and he sighed, his head shaking back and forth slowly. “I just … I got that message, and then I still had another flight that I couldn’t cancel, and …” 

“I know. But I was safe. I said something really stupid, but I was safe.” Moving your hand, you put your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, Frankie’s head immediately lowering so that he could bury his face against your neck. He held you close, and only let go when the blare of someone’s horn from the street startled him. “Let’s go back to your place. We can talk there.” 

— 

But when you got to his house, Frankie didn’t seem interested in talking. 

Instead, as soon as the front door was shut and locked behind you, he was on you, mouth moving over your face and neck as his hands pulled at your clothing. He’s never been like this before. It was sudden but not unwelcome, and once you’d managed to kick your shoes off and put both of your hands up, fingers sliding through his hair, you finally got a word in. I need to know what’s going on in his head. 

“Wait.” You tugged on his hair, pulling his face away from you. “Frankie, wait a second. Talk to me.” 

“I can smell him on you.” He curled his lip, eyes more gold than brown, though it was gone before you knew it. “It’s mostly just Tom, but since we’re so close to the moon and you riled him up, it’s the wolf too. And I fucking hate it.” 

“Could you smell it before?” Your breath came out shaky, but you continued. “Before I got to Florida, I mean? Do wolves smell like wolves, or -”

“

“I don’t know.” He leaned in, nuzzling against your throat. “Maybe. But after he stopped coming out with me when I run, I guess… I guess I stopped seeing him close to the full moon altogether. And since I’d never been around another wolf, I didn’t … fuck. I should have paid more attention.” 

“No.” You kissed his temple. “Because you had a suspicion the night he cut himself, and you didn’t smell it then, either. You had to smell his blood. Maybe it’s just before the moon, Frankie. Maybe -”

“Then why did I react the way I did to Ashley?” His hand slid beneath your shirt and ran up the center of your back, his skin warm against yours. “I walked into that hospital room and I knew.”

“She was on the defensive.” You swallowed, stroking the back of his neck as Frankie’s mouth worried the skin at the base of your throat. “She was on high alert and so were you, so maybe … maybe that’s what it takes. Or maybe since you knew she was a wolf, there’d be something different to scent, or -”

“I’ll ask her.” He groaned as he mouthed at your pulse point, raising his head slowly. “But right now all I want is to get these fucking clothes off of you and make you smell like me instead of that fucking …” He bit at your chin, your head tilting backwards as you whined. I kind of like him like this. I kind of like … 

“You going to be able to keep it together if we have sex right now?” He met your eyes, his lips parted as he waited to see what else you’d say. “I thought you were riled up last month, but this is …” You bit your lip. “I wish it was for a different reason, but I kinda like you like this.” 

“No promises.” He raised a brow, and for the first time, you saw a brief smile on his lips. “Except that yes I can keep it together enough not to bite you.” He leaned in, tilting his head to the side and letting his mouth hover over yours. “Hard, anyway.” That made you giggle, the sound catching you by surprise - and making Frankie’s eyes widen as his smile returned after he backed away. “It’s good to hear that coming from you.” 

“You’ll hear a lot more things you like from me if you kiss me again.” You tugged on his hair, licking your lips. “Do you want to stay out here, or go into your room?” 

“Bedroom.” He nudged you toward the doorway. “We’re having company later and I think they’d appreciate not sitting on the same couch that we just fucked on.” That made you laugh again, and you leaned in, kissing his lips. 

“You’re so considerate.” He snorted as you stepped away, turning your back to him and reaching down to pull your shirt off. “It’s one of the reasons I love you.” His hands found their way to your hips as he followed you into the bedroom, Frankie close behind. “Wait.” You turned to face him, tossing your shirt into the dirty laundry pile. “You said… we’re having company.” 

“I did.” He focused on you, only breaking eye contact when he pulled his shirt off, too, throwing it over with yours. “And I meant it exactly how it sounded.” 

“I like that.” You undid the button on your pants, shimmying out of them and watching as he unbuckled his belt, pulling it free from the loops with one hand. “Are we going to talk about -”

“After.” He dropped his jeans, stepping out of them before he kicked them to the side. “Need you first.” He moved forward, his hands finding your bare skin and sliding over it, wide palms moving fluidly as he urged you closer. “Sit on the end of the bed.” You nodded, carefully turning so that he didn’t have to let you go. 

He walked with you to the bed, and as you lowered yourself onto the mattress, you looked up, raising a brow as he stayed in front of you. “I’m in the perfect position, Frankie.” You placed your hands at his waist, fingertips trailing along the edge of the elastic band of his underwear. “Let me -” 

“Later.” His hips jerked forward as your hands moved, but he shook his head. “I -” You paid no attention and tilted your head to the right, leaning forward and kissing his abdomen, mouth moving inward toward his belly button. “Fuck, you’re not … you’re going to …” He was hard beneath the cotton, the outline of him clearly visible against the light gray material. “Shit.” 

You smiled as you moved your mouth down, your hand dropping from his waist to cup the bottom of his bulge as you kissed along the length of it. The urge to press your thighs together was strong, but you couldn’t with him where he was - and you knew that when you finally removed the rest of your clothing, it would be apparent that teasing him had turned you on. Good. Good, he needs to know. 

Making your way back up, you opened your mouth and sucked the tip of him between your lips, tongue lapping at the cloth. He hissed, one hand moving to grip your shoulder and the other going to the back of your head. “You’re in a mood today.” He groaned and mumbled your name as you squeezed him gently. “Gonna make me come in my goddamn underwear like a -” He moaned when you dragged your teeth gently along him as you lifted your head, raising your eyes to meet his. 

“No. I was just teasing you.” Licking your lips, you shrugged. “You’re very tense, Frankie.” He was breathing hard, his eyes bright. “I just …” Biting the inside of your lip, you sighed. “I was trying to help.”

He moved abruptly, dropping to his knees in front of you faster than you thought possible, and then it was him looking up at you. “You like teasing me?” He reached up, one hand sliding along the inside of your thigh. “Let me return the favor.” You widened the spread of your legs as his hand moved closer to your center, and when one of Frankie’s thick fingers found its target, pressing against the damp fabric, you couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped you. 

“Jesus, you …” You closed your eyes and tilted your head back, a second finger joining his first. “Holy shit.” His mouth met the inside of your thigh before it moved inward, the motion of his fingers never ceasing. 

You deserved the teasing - deserved to have him do the same thing you’d done to him - touching and tasting you through the fabric instead of without it as a barrier. It’s only fair. Reopening your eyes, you looked down at him, watching his progress and gasping when he withdrew his hand and used it to urge your leg over his shoulder. 

He pressed down on your other one with his hand, widening the spread of your legs, and before you could say anything to him, he took the edge of your underwear between his teeth and tugged, releasing it moments later and letting it snap back against your skin. 

You moaned at the feeling - half his name and half just noise, and then Frankie’s mouth was on you, pressing kisses to your soaked core and dragging his tongue along it afterward. You dug your heel into the center of his back and curled your fingers, bunching up the blankets beneath you against your palms. 

He’d already proven time and time again that he was capable of getting you off quickly with his mouth, and you knew that if he continued, that time would be no different. I need to tell him to stop. “F-Frankie.” You forced it out, even as you rolled your hips forward and against his mouth. “Unless you stop, I’m…” He snapped the elastic again, which made you pause, teeth digging into your lower lip. Dammit. “I need you.” 

He looked up then, pulling back enough that when he exhaled, the heat of his breath fanned out over you and made you shiver. You repeated yourself, nodding as you sat up and reached behind you to unhook your bra. “Need you too.” He eased your leg down, and once it wasn’t in the way anymore, he rose, reaching down to take off his underwear. “You have no fucking idea how much.” 

Frankie climbed into the bed as you moved yourself backwards and into a more comfortable position. Once you were in place, you also took your underwear off, staring up at him as he reached over and into the drawer for a condom, the muscles in his upper body rippling with each motion. I think I do know how much.  

You assumed he’d tear the foil open immediately, but instead of doing that, he set the square down on the pillow next to you and then leaned over, taking a slow breath as his eyes moved over your face. “You put yourself in danger today by meeting with him, and I don’t like that.” He clenched his jaw and you saw a muscle in his cheek twitch. “I understand why you did it, and I know you were safe after, but it still…” 

“I know.” You spoke quietly, reaching over with one hand to touch his. “I’m sorry that it happened that way.” Frankie lowered his head and kissed your cheek before turning so that his lips were in front of your ear. 

“You will never have to put yourself in that position again.” You heard the growl in his voice, and when he met your eyes again, his expression was hard. “I promise.” All you could do was nod, reaching up to pull his face back down to yours so that you could kiss him. 

You could feel the tension in his shoulders, but as the kiss deepened, Frankie’s lips parting at the first gentle probe of your tongue, he relaxed. That’s good. He needs to relax… and so do I. 

When he broke away to breathe, you jerked your head to the side, eyes moving from Frankie’s face in the direction of the condom. “You gonna use that, or what?” 

— 

“They’re going to be here in like ten minutes, Frankie.” You were toweling off, though your attention was on the shower, where Frankie still stood under the steaming water. “We’re cutting it really fucking close.” 

He grumbled out an agreement, but only moments later the water stopped and he poked his head out. His eyes widened at the sight of you holding out a fresh, dry towel, but he took it without saying anything. Despite the time crunch, you still took a few moments to stare at him when he stepped out and onto the bathroom floor, the towel hanging low on his hips, though it was wrapped tightly, the end tucked into place. 

He caught you looking and straightened up, one side of his mouth lifting into a smirk. “See something you like?” 

“Maybe.” You winked at him and forced yourself to turn away, giving yourself one final look in the mirror. “I’m glad we ordered food before we showered.” He stepped up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, meeting your gaze through your reflections. “What?”

“How are you so calm?” You’d known it was coming. Though the two of you had pushed the truth of your situation to the side long enough to focus on each other in bed, the fact of the matter was that in only a few minutes’ time, your friends were going to arrive to talk over something very serious. Shit. 

“I don’t know.” You pulled the hem of your t-shirt into place and then reached up to pinch the bridge of your nose. “I’m trying not to let myself think about it right now, to be honest.” Turning so that you could look at him, you tried to smile. “I have to believe that between all of us we can figure something out, and that it’ll -”

“We’ve already figured it out. I’m going to fucking kill him.” He didn’t flinch as he said it, Frankie’s tone even. “And if, for some reason I can’t, or I fail…  then you and Benny will finish the job with silver.” 

You hadn’t even considered that Frankie might not be able to kill Tom. And if he failed, then that means… no. “You’re not going to fail.” You put your hand against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath it. “Frankie -”

“No. I’m not. But …” He shrugged. “We need to prepare for anything.” You knew that he was right, and that Benny wouldn’t hesitate to raise - and use - a gun. “Let me get dressed. I don’t think any of those guys want to see this much of me when they get here.” You lowered your head and nodded, trying to steady yourself as Frankie backed away and then disappeared into his bedroom. 

You exited into the main hallway, turning and making your way into the kitchen, where you busied yourself with getting plates and napkins ready. Despite everything, you felt comfortable moving around in the space, the feeling from the morning after you’d been with him for the first time amplified. And he likes having me here, too. 

You glanced down at what you wore and smiled, briefly closing your eyes. You’d left a few things at his place - a few outfits and a toothbrush, along with some toiletries - so that you weren’t just constantly bringing everything back and forth. It made you feel more settled, and that was something that both of you liked, especially with the situation you found yourselves in. As you finished, you looked around and let your gaze linger on the chalkboard.

He hadn’t erased your message from the morning you’d left after him, but he had added to it; an arrow pointing directly at it along with three words: I want to. 

It was more a note for himself than anything else, but it still made you grin and your cheeks heat. I can’t believe I found someone like him. You finished with the dishes and then turned back toward the living room, checking your phone as you crossed the space. 

“Pope’s about to pull up.” Frankie entered the room, running his hand through his towel-dried hair. “Benny and Will shouldn’t be too far behind.” You hummed out an agreement and lowered yourself onto the couch, hands in your lap. He sat beside you after unlocking the front door, pulling you close and encouraging you to tuck your head against his chest. “You smell better.” He kissed your hair, inhaling deeply. “And I put your clothes into the washer.” 

You laughed at that, the sound short. “Thank you.” You heard a car pulling up, followed by the sound of a door slamming, and only a few seconds later, Pope was walking through the front door, a 6-pack of beer in one hand. Frankie didn’t stand to greet him, and after saying hello, he walked into the kitchen, returning a minute later with an open beer. “Yova said to tell you she’s sorry she couldn’t be here. She had a spin class or some shit tonight, and she didn’t want to miss it.” He sat on the chair, eyeing the two of you. “Molly’s in the class.” 

It made sense - keeping up appearances was going to be important. And if Molly’s acting weird, she’ll be able to tell us. “We ordered food. It should be here soon.” You checked your phone. “Arthur has our order and is getting close.” Pope nodded, looking between you and Frankie. 

“I’ve been working on some things today. I think Yova and I are going to stop at the RV on the way out of town tomorrow and drop some shit off for you.” 

“Where are you going after?” You sat up, putting your hands in your lap. “Isn’t the RV out of the way?” 

“St. Augustine.” He gave you a small smile. “She’s never been. And it’s a good alibi, just in case.” You agreed - but that brought up another question. 

“I didn’t even think of that. Obviously if … when Tom goes missing, you guys will be questioned, since you’re his friends. And we’ll be at the RV, but … it’s in all of your names. They’ll look there, too. And if you fight him, Frankie, there’s going to be blood, and -”

“I said I’ve been working on some things.” Pope leaned in, saying your name. “I need you to trust me when I say that we’re planned shit like this out before. It’s a hell of a lot easier when you’ve got money.”

“I…” You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. “What if Tom fucks you over? What if he fucks us all over, and tells Molly, or tells someone from the Chaos line, or … I don’t know, preemptively calls the police and tells them to go to the RV site, and -”

“Then we fucking deal with it.” Frankie stood, crossing his arms. “There was enough wolf in his blood after the moon that I could sense it, so if they find blood at the clearing, it’ll come back animal with some human DNA in it, whether it’s mine or his.” He turned in a slow circle. “And we’ve all bled up there at one point or another just from doing dumb shit. All of our DNA is all over that trailer from the last couple years.” 

“I don’t think he’d call police.” Pope spoke up, taking a sip from the beer bottle. “If he wants to finish this, he won’t want to be interrupted.” It made sense, and as the three of you thought those words over, you heard another car pull up, followed by the sound of Benny and Will’s voices as they greeted someone. The food. 

Frankie walked toward the door and pulled it open for them, saying hello to his friends and then addressing the delivery guy by name. Good timing. The three men came into the room at the same time, Will carrying one bag, Frankie another, and Benny with a second 6 pack of beer - and a bottle of soda - in his hands. 

You greeted them, too, and didn’t miss the wink Benny gave you after assessing your new outfit and Frankie’s still damp hair. Don’t say a word, Benjamin. He didn’t - about that. But it was Benny that spoke up first, gesturing toward the kitchen as he headed in that direction. 

“We’ve got some important shit to talk about … but we should eat first.” He paused, looking around at the rest of you. “Mission planning always goes much smoother when you’re not fuckin’s starving.” 

“Can’t argue with that, little brother.” Will nodded, following him toward the kitchen. “Lead the way.” 

— 

You didn’t talk about the plan while you ate, but you talked about other things. 

The five of you sat out in Frankie’s back yard, and they listened while you recounted your meeting with Tom in detail. When you got to the end, repeating that he’d said to tell Frankie he’d see you in a couple days, you felt him stiffen next to you, though he’d kept quiet. 

“So he’s going to be at the RV.” You nodded, your attention on Pope. “Which means that he has two days to plan, too.” 

“But he’s only got himself.” Benny cut in, pulling his phone out. “And we’ve got all of us.” You definitely had the advantage, but it only went so far. “And,” the younger Miller continued as he typed on his screen. “Tom’s in Orlando right now.” He turned the device outward so that you could see a photo that had been posted roughly an hour earlier. “He went to that conference.” 

Frankie took the phone and stared at it, and you did, too. The picture was of Tom and a few other people sitting in a restaurant, with what looked like registration packets sitting on the table in front of them. He actually fucking went. 

“So what, is he going to run 90 miles as a wolf?” Will scratched the side of his head. “That doesn’t seem right. It would take him hours. If he brings his car back here, he can’t use the conference as a cover.”

“You know how fucking easy it is to get your hands on a shit car and register it to someone else, Will.” Frankie handed the phone back. “And if he doesn’t take the toll roads, the license plate won’t be picked up, so as far as anyone knows, he’ll be in Orlando and just hanging out in his hotel room until it’s time to check out … and he doesn’t.” You hadn’t even considered the traffic cameras, so you were glad he had. “My guess is he goes to the conference tomorrow and the day after, and heads here early afternoon. He’ll park in one of the overnight lots for camping that’s closer, and then wait til he turns to go to the RV.” 

“You’ve thought about this.” He nodded. “But that means you’d have to confront him as a wolf.” He nodded again. “You won’t get answers.” 

“Unless I don’t kill him until morning.” Frankie scratched the back of his neck. “If I’m able to hurt him enough to keep him there, then I can wait til we’re both human again, and -”

“I’ll gladly tranquilize his ass.” Benny spoke up, his tone hard. “Put enough of that shit into him to knock out a fucking elephant, and sit with him until the goddamn sun comes up.” 

“Me too.” You reached over, touching Frankie’s leg. “I wouldn’t think twice about it.” 

“I want you up in the blind.” He looked over at you. “I don’t want you on the ground in case anything goes wrong.” 

“No.” You shook your head, the motion almost violent. “No. I can’t do shit from up there. He’s actually hurt me, Frankie. I swear I won’t get in your way or Benny’s, but I want to be on the ground.” 

“She’s right, ‘Fish.” Will held up a hand. “More people on the ground will confuse him. He’ll have to try to pay attention to a hell of a lot more, and it could give you the upper hand.” 

“One of the things I’m taking out there tomorrow is a silver net.” Pope pulled his phone out and showed you and Frankie a picture. “There is a surprisingly robust market for shit like this. People take their cosplay very seriously.” That made you snort back a laugh, and Benny joined you, Will following along a few minutes later. “Anyway. It’s electroplated silver, but the girl that did it told me it’s pure.” 

“We could test it.” Frankie swallowed. “I can turn, and you can test it on me.” 

“‘Fish, that …” Pope started speaking and then stopped. “That might actually be a good idea.” He stood. “It’s in my trunk. Where should I bring it?”

“Garage.” Frankie stood, wiping his hands on his pants. “Let’s get this shit over with.” He reached for your hand, fingers closing around yours as he helped you to your feet. “You don’t have to watch.”

“Yes, I do.” You could almost feel his gratitude, and as you headed for the garage - and Pope for his car - all of you were silent. Frankie, to your knowledge, had never attempted to fully turn on command. And he’s doing it tonight just to test this net. 

“We’ll wait out here. Tell us when it’s alright to come in.” You assured Will that you would, and then you and Frankie entered the garage, his right hand reaching out to flip the lights on as you passed the switch. 

He undressed quickly, pulling his t-shirt off and setting it on top of his workbench along with his pants and boxers before he turned to face you.”I don’t know if this will work.”

“It will. You can do it.” You reached out, cupping his cheek with one hand. “It’s close enough to the moon that it’ll probably be easier than it would be otherwise, too.” He swallowed, staring at you. “I love you, Francisco. I -”

“You do it.” He wet his lips. “No way in fucking hell I’ll hurt you, and I have no idea how I’m going to react to this.” 

“You’ve come a long way in a month.” You kissed him, lips lingering against his. “First you weren’t sure whether or not you’d hurt me and now you’re sure you won’t.” You stepped back, keeping your eyes locked with his. “Alright. Go ahead.”

You leaned back against the wall, arms crossed… and waited. 

Frankie closed his eyes and flexed his fingers, and you watched his breathing change - shallow ones lengthening, his head tilting back as he exhaled. It took longer than it had the previous month, and when it happened it was slow, his muscles bulging beneath his skin as his limbs lengthened, a quiet groan reaching your ears when he pushed his shoulders back and crouched down, his hands making contact with the floor, fingers spread wide. 

He still didn’t look at you, and when his head dropped forward, you were able to see his face changing, features shifting as the fur began to sprout from his skin. It was an incredible thing to see - and something that, months earlier, you would have been terrified of. But it’s Frankie. He growled, head shaking back and forth, and you gasped when his ears seemed to slide up at the same time they elongated - which was something that you hadn’t seen previously. 

Fingers and toes turned to claws and paws, and then things sped up. You blinked and he was almost fully a wolf, Frankie in a sitting positon as the final stages of the transformation took place. He finally lifted his head and met your eyes again, and you gave him a sad smile as you nodded. “I love you, Frankie. It’s ok.” 

He whined, breaking eye contact, and when he shook himself, nails scraping across the garage floor, you cleared your throat, calling for the guys to come in. Frankie kept his distance, standing on all fours as they surrounded you. I wonder what this looks like to him. “Whoa, ‘Fish, you’re bigger than I remember.” Benny laughed, but it wasn’t entirely natural. “It’s fuckin’ wild with the tattoo. I never would have noticed that before.” 

Frankie lowered his head to look at his paw and then cocked it to the side, eyeing Benny. We need to hurry. I don’t know how long he’s going to be able to hold this for. “He asked me to use the net, Pope. He said he wants it to be me.” Pope agreed, moving to stand beside you. “Frankie, why don’t you lay down? That way we can start small, and just … lay it on your leg or something. Maybe we won’t need to cover you with it.” 

He moved as you spoke, lowering himself to the ground. Will and Benny remained silent, but Pope stepped forward with you. “I’m just carrying it, ‘Fish. It’s a little heavy.” Frankie nodded, which was somewhat jarring for you, but your steps didn’t falter. “I don’t like this. “ Pope spoke quietly, the two of you kneeling down in front of the wolf. “It’s going to hurt him.” 

“Yeah.” You held your hands out, and Pope handed the folded net over. Shit, it is heavy. “But only for a second. It’s going to hurt Tom a hell of a lot more.” You hoped you were right - hoped that the silver made Tom miserable.

You unfolded a section of the net and then took a deep breath, tuning out Pope’s presence and focusing on Frankie. Reaching out with one hand, you tapped on the paw that didn’t have the tattoo marking, and he extended it a little further. 

“We just need to know what it does. A few seconds. And please try not to howl, Frankie. The neighbors… shit.” Picking up a corner of the net you extended it and took a deep breath. Here we fucking go. 

As soon as it touched him, Frankie’s entire body jerked, and he let out a long, low whine. “You need to put it on his leg. We need to know if he can move.” Pope spoke quietly, trying to keep his voice even. “We need to immobilize Tom if possible.” You reached out with both hands, lifting the metal and then extending it further, apologizing to Frankie before you set it down again. 

He growled then, turning his head away and snapping his jaws - but he didn’t move the leg that you’d covered. “This is good, Frankie. You’re doing great.” Oh, this fucking sucks. There was no smoking or smoldering, and the chain hadn’t left any marks on him - that you could see - but it was definitely having an effect on the wolf. “Ok.” You reached out, carefully lifting the net again and pulling it back. “Enough. You can tell us about it when you turn back, but … no more.” 

It took him a few seconds but he finally moved, lifting his paw and shaking it out as he stood back up, Frankie using his other paw to swipe at the one you’d tested. “”You can change back now, ‘Fish.” Pope gathered the net up and then stood, clearing his throat. “We’ll give you some time.” Frankie whined again, and you watched as the other three left the garage, heading back out and into the yard. 

When you turned your attention back to him, it only took you moments to open your arms to the wolf, Frankie moving immediately to let them encircle him. You turned your head inward, closing your eyes as the wolf rested the bottom of his muzzle on your shoulder. “Come back to me, Francisco.” You stroked one hand along his fur, breathing slowly. “Whatever you need to do.” 

He broke free from your hold, and though it surprised you at first, when his entire body began to shake, you understood why.

The transformation from wolf to man was much different - and much more violent to witness, and as soon as you knew he wasn’t looking at you, you pressed your lips together and covered your mouth with one hand to hide your shocked gasp. 

He seemed to shrink, dark fur turning back into skin, ears moving back into place on the sides of his head, mostly hidden beneath his curls. He whimpered, head whipping back and forth, and even though you didn’t want to, you had to look away as his fingers and toes began to reemerge, the lengthening of the digits turning your stomach. I shouldn’t have asked him to do this. 

The whimper turned into a low groan, and when you looked back, it was Frankie in front of you, crouched on the floor. His whole body trembled, and even though you didn’t know if he’d want it, you crawled forward and put your arms around him again, drawing him in and against your chest. He came willingly, his hands grasping at your shirt, and for almost a minute, neither of you spoke. 

His heart was racing and Frankie was breathing hard, but he calmed under your touch, hold loosening… and it was him that spoke first. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“I’m not.” Kissing the top of his head, you closed your eyes.”Thank you for doing that. Is that the first time you’ve turned on command?”

“Fully, yeah. I’ve …” He inhaled, holding his breath before he released it. “I’ve practiced a couple times, but never gone all the way. Fuck I’m tired.” It didn’t surprise you, and you hoped that him forcing the turn early wouldn’t put him at a disadvantage with Tom. “It wasn’t as hard as I thought, though. I’m sure next time … will be easier.” He sat up, pointing at where his clothes were. “Can you get those for me?”

You stood and did what he asked, Frankie taking them from you and then slowly standing. You turned to give him privacy, and were taken by surprise when he hugged you from behind, holding you tightly. “Frankie…” 

“You’re incredible.” He kissed the side of your neck. “I’m so lucky you found me.” You could have argued that it was the other way around, but chose not to, instead just humming out your response. “We should go back out there with them.” 

When you rejoined the others, you noticed that they’d cleaned up some of the remnants of your meal while you were in the garage, leaving less for you to do later. Someone had also brought out a large bottle of water and a couple packets of electrolyte mix, setting them on the table in front of where Frankie had been sitting. That’s so goddamn thoughtful. 

He mixed the drink before sitting, gulping down half of it in one go and then finishing it in a second. “Thank you.” He looked between his friends, nodding at each one in turn. “The net was a good call, Pope.” 

“I figured.” You and Frankie sat again, Frankie yawning while he got comfortable. “We did all those tests with you after we got back home, and you reacted to the silver, so…” He shrugged. “Did it hurt?”

“It did.” Frankie held out his hand, showing you his unmarked skin. “But it didn’t burn. It just sort of … paralyzed me, I guess? I wanted to move my leg away but couldn’t. Everything else was fine, though.” The others nodded, Benny’s features set into a thoughtful expression. 

“So if we throw that over Tom, he won’t be able to move?” 

“Correct.” He yawned again. “So the plan should be … get him into the clearing. I distract him with an attack, and then we tranq him. Once he’s asleep, put the net on top of him and keep it there til morning, when he turns back into a human and I can question him.”

It was a good plan, a simple one, and that made you doubt it. “And once you have your answers?” Will leaned closer, head tilted to the side. “Then what?”

“I take care of it.” Frankie clasped his hands together. “I know it’s Tom, but … he’s crossed so many goddamn lines.” Benny opened his mouth, but Frankie cut him off. “We’ve all crossed lines, Benjamin. I know it. But he’s killing and hurting people because he can. He deliberately hid this from us and then attacked someone I love and fucking pretended he didn’t. There’s no other choice.”

“What about Molly? And Tessa?” Pope sighed. “Tom’s a piece of shit, but those two …”

“That’s not our problem, man.” Will crossed his arms. “I can’t believe Tom would fuck them over if anything happened to him, though. Especially not with Tessa starting school.” You agreed. But what if they know something? What if they suspect, or he leaves a note, or … 

“How do we protect ourselves from this?” Will frowned. “Pope, you’ll be out of town, I’ll be at the bar. But Benny, you’re going to be in the middle of the woods, right  where -” He paused. “Right where it happens.” He looked at you. “You, too. And ‘Fish. If they start looking, it might not be too hard to piece shit together.” 

“We’ll figure it out.” Frankie stood, swaying on his feet, and stabilized himself with one hand on your shoulder. “He doesn’t get to get away with this, especially not now.” Frankie pointed, gesturing to all three of them, “If you want out, that’s fine, and you’ll never know what happens in that swamp. But I am not fucking risking him coming after anyone else. We can end this. We can protect ourselves and other people. I can. And if that’s the one good fucking thing I can do after this?” He held his scarred arm out, fingers curled into a fist. “It’s enough.” 

“I’m in.” Pope stood, holding his hand out and setting it on top of Frankie’s. You got up, too, and added your hand to the top of the pile. Will was the next to stand, his large hand settling on top of yours and then Benny’s landed, too, all five of you silent as you eyed each other. 

“Go… team?” 

You tried your hand at adding levity to the situation, and to your surprise, Benny laughed out loud, tightening his hand before he pulled it away, everyone else following. “We’re behind you, ‘Fish. All the way.” 

— 

Once they’d left later, you and Frankie climbed into bed early. You checked Tom’s profile again, looking through the posts he’d made from that evening. The first one was accompanied by another of a different group and at what looked like a different location. You scoured it for the man and woman that you thought were responsible for turning him, but they were nowhere to be seen. 

“I can’t believe he went.” Frankie rolled toward you, stretching out. “He’s giving himself an alibi.” 

“We’re all doing the same.” You darkened the screen, setting your phone on the tabletop. “You and Benny taking me to the RV to spend the night so that I can write where it’s quiet while you guys hang out? Will at the bar? Pope and Yova out of town? We’re all trying to cover our asses, Frankie.” 

“We won’t need to.” He closed his eyes. “They’re not going to find Tom.” He sounded certain of his words, and you appreciated that. Even though so much can go wrong. “Tom still thinks he’s untouchable. It’s been that way since we first met him. I’m counting on his arrogance here.” 

You understood where he was coming from, but that didn’t make the thought of something happening to him - or to any of you any easier to consider. “I trust you. And I know you know him better than I do, but it still…” Just tell him the truth. “Knowing this is going to end one way or the other in two days is fucking with me.”

“There’s only one way this is going to end.” He reached over, resting his hand against your cheek. “Him dead and unable to hurt anyone else ever again, and the rest of us getting back to our lives.” 

It was cruel - especially when you considered Molly and Tessa, but the longer you looked at Frankie, the more you realized that the thought that they were better off without Tom wasn’t just a thought … you really believed it. 

“I can’t wait.” Closing the distance between you, you rubbed the tip of your nose along his and then pressed a light kiss to his lips. I hope he’s right. 

— 

Benny drove the three of you to the RV on the night of the full moon, but unlike the previous time, the mood in the car wasn’t light. You were in the back and they were sitting side by side in the front, and though they kept up a steady stream of conversation, there was tension in their tones. 

You’d used a burner phone before you left to fill Alec and Ashley in on what the plan was, promising that you’d update them when you could. And just in case you didn’t end up making it back from the RV, you’d packed all of your family’s research into a single box and addressed it to your aunt, mailing it out while Frankie was at work. You left some of your book research in the rented apartment, along with all of your other belongings. 

It was probably overkill, but you didn’t want to lead anyone anywhere … especially if it would put the others at risk. You had your laptop, though, copies of your information and updates stored on a hidden drive. 

You’d done everything you could to get ready for that night, and you wondered if you were as nervous as you were because you’d never really been involved in a situation like the one you were heading off to. They have. They’ve done so many dangerous things. “Hey.” You were startled out of your thoughts by Frankie’s voice. “You hear what I said?”

“No. What’s up?” He gave you a tight smile. 

“I asked if you wanted to stop for food. We should eat before.” Telling him you didn’t care where you went, you lapsed back into silence and stared out the window. 

You didn’t know how to articulate to him that you were scared because there was a chance that you’d never see Frankie as a man again after he turned at sundown. If I tell him that, then he knows I’m worried he might not finish this. You didn’t want to psych him out. You didn’t want to give him any doubts about what was going to happen, or make him think that you didn’t believe in him. Because I do. I just … nothing’s certain. 

You didn’t speak again until you were parked at the RV, the three of you carrying your things from Benny’s SUV to the front door. Nothing looked out of place - everything seemed in order, including the ground where you and Tom had bled the previous month. Tom and Will both spent time cleaning it up.  

Setting your bag down on the couch, you turned straight into Frankie’s chest, his arms going around you. “It’s going to be alright.” He whispered the words, holding you close. “I promise you.” 

“Yeah.” You turned your head, pressing your cheek against his chest. “It’s going to be fine.”

After you checked out the new supplies Pope had dropped off - the net, a new first aid kit and a restock of silver bullets along with a slew of tranquilizer supplies - you went outside and sat at the picnic table to eat. You had roughly 90 minutes before sunset, but you knew that the time would pass quickly. 

“He posted this morning from the conference floor.” Benny spoke around a mouthful of hamburger after taking a photo of the three of you sitting at the table. “And Pope said that Molly and Yova talked at that spin class like nothing was different than usual.” He scoffed. “I can’t believe we fucking … fuck.” He dropped the last few bites of his dinner and then stood up from the table. “I have some fucking questions for him, too.” 

“We all do.” You ate a fry, glancing over at Frankie before you said anything else. “I just want to ask him what he thought he would gain by attacking me, and how he found the Chaos line.” You gestured toward Frankie. “And why he never thought to tell any of you that he’d found anything in the first place.” 

“I’m staying outside.” Benny paced behind your chair, the sound of the gravel crunching beneath his feet loud in your ears. “I’m going to be right here when this asshole shows up.” 

“Remember you’re not shooting to kill.” Frankie adjusted his hat, looking between you. “You’re trying to get that tranq in him and then distract him so we can get that net over him. We need Tom alive til morning.” Benny nodded and so did you, but Frankie went on. “He’s looking for me. This is between me and him, so -”

“My aim isn’t great.” You let out a long, slow breath. “Frankie, what if I hit you with the dart?” 

“You won’t. I trust you” He smiled. “Pope left us lots of extras, too. So once we’ve got him out and under the net, we’ll have to keep dosing him. The wolf body will try to heal him, and that means absorbing the drug faster than usual.” Benny nodded and sat down again, linking his fingers together on the tabletop. “This is going to work.” 

For a man that was likely only hours away from seriously injuring - and then killing - one of his best friends, Frankie was remarkably calm. You wished that you felt the same. Maybe I need some of that tranquilizer. “Yovanna just posted from the beach.” Frankie held up his phone, smiling. “Look at ‘em.” 

You took the phone and widened your eyes at the picture - the two of them, sand dunes and a sign for a restaurant at their backs. The wind was whipping Yovanna’s long hair, strands of it covering her face - but they looked happy. Alibi secured for them. “I wish I was at the beach.” 

“We’ll go.” Frankie smiled, reaching over to take the phone back. “You an’ me. We’ll ask them where they stayed. Make a weekend of it.” 

“I’d like that.” Covering his hand with yours, you squeezed. I need to tell him. “Frankie can we talk for a minute? Before you start getting ready, I mean. I just …” The look in his eyes changed, going hard for a second, but he agreed. 

You followed him into the RV, so much like you had the first time you’d been there, but that time, he didn’t immediately turn to kiss you when the door shut. Instead, Frankie sat down on the edge of a couch cushion, hands hanging between his knees after he removed his hat. 

“You’re worried about tonight.” You sat next to him, sighing. “What exactly is bothering you?”

“I’m not thrilled about watching you fight someone to the death, Frankie.” You bit your lip, staring down at your feet. “He’s been your friend for how many years? Even if what he’s doing now is  inexcusable, that wasn’t always the case.” He reached over, taking your hand. “I’m worried that I’m going to have to stand there and watch you get hurt because you hesitated for a single second and he didn’t.” 

“I won’t hesitate.” He squeezed, your interlocked fingers flexing with the motion. “You’re not going to have to watch me get hurt.” Frankie said your name and when you looked over at him, you could feel how determined he was, his jaw set and eyes hard. “Tom made his decision the first time he chose to attack someone. He confirmed it when he attacked Alec and Ashley. And he signed his own death warrant the second he fucking touched you.” 

The words made you shiver, but he didn’t waver - or look away. 

“You and I are going home tomorrow morning with Benny. That’s all there is to it.” He finally closed his eyes and inhaled, the man’s mouth lifting briefly at the corners. What’s that about? “It’s going to be ok.” 

“Do you promise?” He nodded, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against yours. “Because I’m kind of looking forward to a hell of a lot more years with you, Francisco. And you need to be around for those.”

“I will be.” He dragged his nose along yours, the hand that you weren’t holding rising up so that it could cradle the back of your head. “Please listen to Benny. Don’t try to jump in and put yourself in danger.” 

“I won’t.” Swallowing, you parted your lips and pressed them to his. “Fuck, I’m scared.” 

“I know.” He kissed you again. “But it’s almost over.” 

He excused himself a minute later to go into the bathroom, and you stood, turning toward the table where all of the supplies were. Might as well start getting ready. You unlocked the lockbox and pulled out the same gun you’d had earlier, checking the bullets before setting it down onto the table. From there, you reached for one of the tranquilizer darts, holding it up and taking a shaky breath. I feel more confident with this than the gun. Slipping a handful of them into the pocket of the hoodie you wore, you picked up the gun again and turned for the door. 

“I’m going outside, Frankie.” You didn’t wait for an answer, stepping through the doorway and out into the fading sunshine. Benny was sitting at the table, phone to his ear. As you approached, you heard him say something about a delayed order, and wondered if he was talking to Will. Another alibi. 

He hung up as you got closer, checking the screen of his phone before he put it down. “Nineteen minutes.” It’s so soon. “As soon as he comes out here, I’ll go in and get what I need. I’m not leaving you alone for a second.” You didn’t think that was necessary, but you nodded in agreement as you sat down, the RV at your back. “You alright?”

“No.” You twisted your fingers together, eyes on the clearing as you answered. “I’m scared for Frankie and for us. I’m worried Tom’s going to pull something out of his ass and figure out how to be two steps ahead. I’m afraid that after Frankie turns into a wolf tonight, I might never get to hear his voice again because -”

“Tom has never been one step ahead of anything on his own in all the years I’ve known him.” Frankie stopped next to you, the blanket wrapped tightly around his shoulders. “He might have a plan, but it won’t be a whole plan because there’s unpredictable shit happening.” He gestured at you and Benny with one finger. “Like you. Like me. Like …” He looked up and at the sky. “Like everything that’s going to happen in the next couple hours.” 

Benny snorted as he headed for the door, leaving you and Frankie alone. I hope he’s still laughing when this is all over.   

Frankie stood in front of you, looking down at where you sat “What?” He stayed quiet, eyeing you, and it only took a few seconds for you to realize that he was staring at you because he wanted a last look. “Francisco?” You rose, taking the few steps necessary to reach him, and then touched his face with your fingertips. “You said it was going to be alright.” 

“I know.” He shook his head slowly. “I just…” Frankie wet his lips and then poked his tongue into his cheek. “You never know.” That was the problem. You knew that Frankie believed he had a good shot at beating Tom and getting answers. You knew that the odds were stacked against Tom, with you and Benny on hand to back Frankie up. But … “If it looks bad… shoot him.” He touched your face, thumb sweeping over your cheekbone. “I know we want answers, but if it means you or Benny get hurt, it’s not worth it.” 

“But -”

“No. No buts. I’m telling you, if things go to shit, kill the bastard.” He locked eyes with you, and you saw actual fear in them. “If you can’t do it, Benny will.” I can shoot him. I will shoot him. “But I want you to listen to me, alright?” He shifted on his feet, straightening his shoulders. “This isn’t gonna be the last time you hear my voice.” Frankie winked at you, and for a few seconds, it was like things were good. “You could never be that lucky.” 

“I’m going to hold you to that.” He nodded, and you reached up to tuck hair behind his ear. “I love you, Francisco.” 

“I love you, too.” The blanket slid down to expose the tops of his shoulders as he adjusted it, and then Frankie’s arms extended so that he could wrap them around you. You leaned into his chest, resting your cheek against it and letting your hands move over his sides and then across his back, feeling the movement of his muscles beneath his skin. 

You knew that your time was winding down, and Frankie would open his mouth to tell you that you needed to step away and let him turn. But we have a minute. We have now. He kissed the top of your head, mumbling that he loved you so goddamn much, and when you squeezed your eyes shut, you had to will yourself not to cry. 

“‘Fish.” You were startled by the sound of Benny’s voice, both of you turning toward it. “Couple minutes.” 

“I know, Benjamin.” You felt it when he spoke - the sound a deep rumble in his chest - as Frankie’s attention focused on his friend. “I can feel it.”  He said your name and you looked up, taking a half step back. “I’m staying in the clearing tonight.” He looked between you and Benny, easing the blanket down so that it only covered his lower body. “I’m not going anywhere unless it’s to chase after him.” 

You nodded, and Benny agreed out loud, but you didn’t look away. Frankie’s muscles began twitching, the movement visible beneath his skin. But wait. You rushed forward, catching him by surprise. “Just be quiet.” He didn’t argue, and when you kissed him, your lips meeting his in a desperate press, he dropped the blanket and crushed you to his body. It was a way for you to say what you couldn’t speak, and you took the opportunity. 

The danger of him beginning to turn as you kissed didn’t matter to you. You licked past his lips and into his mouth, and Frankie’s fingers dug into your hips, holding you in place. I love you so much. You didn’t care that Benny was only a few feet away, or that it would likely be awkward when you and Frankie broke apart. He’ll understand. Stroking his hair, you inhaled through your nose as your mouths stayed busy, trying to memorize the taste of him. Just in case. 

But when Frankie pushed you away roughly, and you stumbled back a few steps, you knew that time was up. “Love… you.” He spoke through gritted teeth, his fingers balled into fists - and you only got a glimpse of his face before he doubled over, shoulders slumping. You didn’t want to, but you stepped back further, only stopping when you felt Benny’s hand on your arm… and you watched Frankie. 

It happened faster than you thought it would, his body’s shape and size changing as he dropped to his knees and then to all fours. He didn’t try to stay quiet, either, his groans and grunts loud, as was his breathing, the sound almost harsh. He yelped, and it made you flinch, briefly closing your eyes. Oh, Frankie. 

That sound turned into a howl, long and low, and when you reopened your eyes, there was a wolf in front of you, his head hung low and his chest expanding rapidly as he tried to catch his breath. “Hey, Francisco.” The smile you gave him was genuine, and in response, Frankie tapped his paws against the ground before straightening up and then heading for you. 

He stopped just in front of where you stood and then sat, looking up. “You smell anything, ‘Fish?” Benny leaned forward, eyes on Frankie. “Any sign of him?” It seemed unlikely that Tom would have been able to get so close so quickly without Frankie noticing, but Benny’s question made sense. Frankie’s head moved back and forth and when he tipped his head further back, nostrils flaring as he scented the wind, you looked away and out at the gathering darkness in the clearing. 

He stood, nudging your leg with his nose before turning and trotting away. You and Benny watched as he circled the perimeter, pausing a few times briefly but never stopping. “Him bein’ calm is a relief.” Benny got comfortable in the chair, and you sat down too, crossing your arms. “He really loves you.” 

“I really love him.” You knew that Frankie could hear you both, but figured that was also a good thing. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not worried.” 

“Would be stupid not to be.” He reached over, settling a hand on your knee. “But ‘Fish has  … we all have been through a lot of shit that’s at least as dangerous as this.” He smiled, reaching up to adjust his backwards ballcap with his free hand. “And you’re here now, so we’re even more ready to deal with it.” You had to laugh at that, Benny’s well-timed joke breaking some of the tension you felt. 

“Thank you, Benny.” Laying your hand on top of his, you squeezed. “I needed that.” Both of you went quiet as Frankie made his way back and then plopped down in front of you, crossing his front paws and resting his snout on the ground. “Now … we wait.”

---

[jeewrites]

Hold Fast - Series Master List [Ongoing]

Series Summary: Frankie gets picked up at Redfly's Bar by a powerlifting girlie.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader/powerlifting!reader Rating: Eventually Explicit (18+ ONLY, MDNI)

Hold Fast Chapter List Ch. 1 - Will Squat for Dinner Ch. 2 - SBD & Cinnamon Rolls Ch. 3 - Curdles Ch. 4 - Chicken Soup Ch. 5 - 5 Courses Ch. 6 - Knuckle Sandwich Ch. 7 - Coffee & Donuts (Updated 12/1) Ch. 8 - Ch. 9 - Ch. 10 - Epilogue

Series Tags/Warnings (will update as fic progresses!): no y/n, reader has a nickname, rom com-y, fluff, some angst, gymbff!Benny, Dad!Frankie, Sweet!Frankie, alcohol, swearing, reader is a powerlifting girlie described as short and has hair long enough to put into a ponytail, Tom is alive unfortunately (we hate Tom), Tom owns a bar called Redfly's, Pope owns a gym, alcohol, OC!Chloé, OC!Mike, body insecurity, smut, unprotected p in v (wrap it up folks), implied oral (m and f receiving), cock warming if you blink?, descriptions of a physical fight (not between Frankie and reader), prev abusive relationship mentioned (lightly described), panic attack, fictional description of custody arrangements, adulation of thighs, Triple Frontier AU where all the guys return from Colombia alive with a day pack of $ each, alternating POV, gratuitous descriptions of food, thoughts on having kids, medical terms related to pregnancy (no pregnancy), use of Daddy but not like that  

Taglist: @katareyoudrilling @christinamadsen @rebel-held @littlemisspascal

@burntheedges @darkheartgatita @enretrogue @titabel @copperhalfcent

@triplefrontier-anniversary @iamskyereads

Tag list is open!

[campingwiththecharmings]

okay so, i'm hella behind on reading, and for some reason it's so fucking hard for me to find time/energy to read much these days, but i still want to highlight at least some of the fics i've been able to read so, i'll be doing fic recs quarterly this year instead of monthly. hope y'all enjoy 🪷💜

**please be sure to read any/all warnings attached to recommended fics prior to reading**

🔥 - explicit/mature content

PART ONE (bc tumblr is being a bitch and won't let me post all of them in one post)

Star Wars

Seeds of Love (Poe Dameron x Reader) - @moonlight-prose

🔥Best Ride in the Galaxy (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @lotusbxtch

size doesn't matter (Poe Dameron x Reader) - @hoedamn-eron

🔥Come Back to Me (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @reallyrallyauthor

Ex Machina

🔥In Plain Sight (Nathan Bateman x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

Assembly Required (Nathan Bateman x Reader) - @reallyrallyauthor

Skittish (Nathan Bateman x Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

🔥Again (Nathan Bateman x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

Triple Frontier

🔥Room's on Fire (Dark!TF Boys x F!Reader) - @romana-after-dark

I'll be the silence ringing through and through and through (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces

Personal Issue (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

🔥The Worst (Tom "Redfly" Davis x Dark!Reader) - @toxicanonymity

The Dead Horse (Santiago Garcia x Black!F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

🔥Tag-Teaming (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader x Frankie Morales) - @fettuccin-e

Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse

🔥The Sweetest Fruit in the Garden (Miguel O'Hara x Older!F!Reader) - @missdictatorme

🔥Through the Window (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

Sucker Punch

🔥Good Boy Blue (Club!Blue Jones x F!Reader) - @reallyrallyauthor

🔥Just Be Good (Orderly!Blue Jones x F!Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

🔥Private Dances (Club!Blue Jones x F!Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

Inside Llewyn Davis

again (llewyn davis x reader) - @eyelessfaces

don't let go (llewyn davis x reader) - @runa-falls

keys (llewyn davis x reader) - @eyelessfaces

Misc

🔥my ex's tapes (Ex!Basil Stit x F!Reader x FWB!Jake Lockley) - @runa-falls

🔥Sweet Like (Modern!Leto Atreides x F!Reader) - @reallyrallyauthor

Thank you to all the wonderful writers for sharing their stories with us 🥰❤️

*For more recs, please feel free to check out my fic rec tag.

**If you’d like to have your fic removed, please just let me know.

[FIC RECS PART TWO]

[pedrostylez]

How The Crow Flies - pt. 9

Javier Peña x fem!reader x Frankie Morales crossover

Word count: 5.4k

Chapter Summary: You and Javier complete the raid on Lorea's house while Frankie is escaping with what is remaining of his crew

Chapter Warnings and Disclaimers: 18+ only. I am not responsible for what you read on the internet. You have been warned! Locations and descriptions of places may be inaccurate in comparison to each story (Narcos and Triple Frontier). Timelines are obviously different between the two stories, so we are going to meet in the middle and say we are in the early 2000s. These are not necessarily canon characters in regard to how they act, how they treat people, and their current relationships. Hurt feelings, violence, and blood mentioned heavily in parts, including description of bodies piled up, admitting of feelings (to the best of his ability) by Javier, SMUT including riding, but honestly it's brief.

A/N: Omg the final part! Once again, thank you guys for being patient. I hope you all enjoy and don't hate me for how I left it at the end...open to interpretation? Anyways....love you all! If I have missed any tags for trigger warnings, please let me know and I will fix it. Thank you for reading!!!

Taglist: @thevoiceinyourheadx @suzdin @survivingandenduring @bariskaplans @inept-the-magnificent @casa-boiardi @paleidiot @darkheartgatita @missladym1981 @mellymbee

Frankie is tired. Arms aching, legs screaming, ready to collapse, tired. 

His mind is clouded, exhaustion taking hold as Benny hands him another backpack full of money. The wind whips across his face, the thin air making him gasp a bit louder than he intended. Benny looks at him with a worried expression, shaking his head when Frankie shrugs off the look he gives him. “Almost done, man.”

“Yeah.” Frankie calls, tossing the bag up with a grunt. He glances over to Santiago, his face caved in with dark outlines and circles around his eyes. 

He knows they are all pissed at him. 

Crashing the helicopter was all he had left to do, and even though Redfly said it was fine, said he picked the best option there was, there’s this sinking feeling in Frankie’s stomach. More is about to go wrong, and it’s all Frankie’s fault for not putting his foot down when they overloaded the helicopter. 

How could he deny Tom’s instruction? It was a losing battle, and even though they needed him to fly, he’s sure that he would have been cast aside if he had refused another time. And the looks exchanged between them when Refly shot at the group that surrounded them once they were all out of the crash… 

All Frankie could think about was your face as he crashed the helicopter into the ground, and now your face as he throws another bag to Benny. You would have been disappointed too, he thinks. 

This is going to be long and torturous. 

Javier watches your legs jump in the passenger seat, the tac-vest feeling tight across his chest. He reaches out, only having a little while longer of being alone with you before he has to pretend you’re just another agent-his employee. “It will be okay, hermosa.”

You nod, giving a brief, closed lip smile, wrapping your fingers around his. “I know.”

He squeezes your thigh once more, letting it rest there until they turn on to a dirt road. You tense, retracting your hand and breathing heavily through your nose. Closer and closer, you become rigid in your seat, watching the mirror to make sure the caravan of agents is still following. 

“How far we going? Over.” Jason speaks through the radio, you jumping in your seat at the sound. Javier chooses to not answer, knowing that they are close and not wanting to call any further attention to themselves for those that may be listening in. He refuses to let this be another fuck up. 

As his car continues down the road the trees become dense, the dirt turning to mud, and the radio picks up chatter that is new to him. Tilting his head to listen, his fingers subconsciously squeeze tighter around your leg. You grunt, grabbing at his wrist to indicate as such, but he holds on as the words through the radio become clearer. 

“Someone is coming.”

“Get the boy somewhere safe.”

You frown, biting at your bottom lip and looking over to him. “The boy must be his son.” 

Javier grunts, pulling his gun from his holster with one hand while keeping the steering wheel steady. You do the same with your own, holding on to the dash as Javier speeds up. If they already know that they are on their way, this likely will be a gunfight. “How old is he?”

“Less than 10. But his mother and his sister…” You trail off in confusion, looking ahead and contemplating internally. You come to a realization, shaking your head  profusely before speaking. “I don’t know what those guys did, but if they are protecting the son exclusively–”

“Then Lorea may be dead.” Javier finishes your sentence, pulling the car off to the side of the road roughly. The other vehicles follow suit, everyone stepping out with weapons drawn and ready. “On foot, be ready. Supposed to be 20 guards.” He calls to the others, crouching low and leading you toward the house.

He’s relying on you, on your information that you’ve gathered so far. It should be good intel, and you don’t show signs that you think otherwise. Your hand is resting on his shoulder as you both team up, stepping through the greenery and mud methodically on the way to each building ahead. 

You tap his shoulder and point, sliding your arm up so that he doesn’t have to look behind him. “Back security house, there should be 5 in there.”

He nods, glancing around quickly before bringing you toward the security building. You’re both crouched under each window, guarded and ready to take action. It’s silent, no movement to be heard beyond the wooden walls and he watches as you frown, trying to listen. You both step to the door, a silent countdown until he lifts his leg and kicks just below the handle, breaking down the door in one swift motion. He holds his gun ready, searching with it, leading and finding nothing. 

No one. 

You gasp behind him, his attention drawn to where you’re looking to find a poorly stacked amount of bodies and blood in the corner. It stinks, the smell permeating around him as he looks around and goes for the bathroom door. It’s unlocked, no one behind it. 

You both stand there in awe, listening for anyone else to say something into your separate ear pieces, or for gunshots to be heard. Nothing comes and you’re back to shaking your head. He can see your inhale sharply, wincing as the smell circles around you. “This is…weird.” You admit, holstering your gun and looking to the pile of men again.

“I thought you said they were just here for the money.” Javi grunts, stepping out of the security house and poking his head around the corner. No one else is in sight, and no noise of their agents are around either. 

“Maybe they…got caught?” You guess about Santiago and his crew, shaking your head. “I don’t know.”

“Let’s go to the main house.” Javi decides, stepping in front of you and holstering his own gun. If this is how one security house is, then so will the others, and he is less worried about being swarmed. He takes less careful steps toward the main house where the rest of his team went. 

Redfly is dead, Frankie is freezing his ass off, and all he can think about is your god damned face. He knows Will and Benny are looking at him, wondering why Frankie isn’t as quick to answer them, why he’s being closed off, but he just can’t help it. 

Santiago is too stuck in his own head to notice.

Redfly’s body is sitting just a few yards away, wrapped with a tarp and covered, but Frankie swears he can still see his open eyes after he was shot. The boy that shot him is long forgotten, down the mountain a ways and he feels guilty that he doesn’t care as much as he thought he would. Frankie is too focused on the fact that when he closes his eyes, it’s either you, or Tom’s dead eyes. There’s only a few more bags of money, and he’s having a hard time believing this was worth it.

“Tell me about your girl, Fish.” Benny calls, shoving his hands into his armpits to generate some heat. His hood ruffles in the wind, the fire from the money they were willing to burn flickering between them. 

Frankie shakes his head, sniffling and looking down at his knees. They’re covered in dirt, cold and aching. “Don’t have a girl.” He knows it’s pointless, to even deny. But there’s a part of him that wants to keep you to himself, still. Maybe if he blows Benny off, then he won’t ask again. 

He’s wrong, of course. Benny scoffs, shaking his head and looking at Will. “He had that girl Yovanna set up for the jungle in his motel room a few times.” The smile grows on Ben’s face, white teeth stark against the dark surrounding him. 

“Not supposed to be mixing like that, Fish.” Will chastises, smiling anyway. The brothers and their matching smiles staring back at Frankie, taunting him. 

Frankie keeps his mouth shut, cracking his neck and adjusting his feet. He takes a look over to Santiago and sees his eyes are on him too, curious as the others, and he sighs. They aren’t going to let it go, it seems. “Probably won’t see her again.” Frankie mumbles, his chin jutting closer to his chest to let some of his breath warm the inside of his jacket. 

Benny laughs at him, pointing a finger in his direction. “Sure you will, Fish. Keep your head on straight and you can come back down here, free as a bird, and see her again if you wanted.”

It’s silent while Frankie thinks, finally coming to the conclusion to tell them what he found out about you. “She…she was more than just what Yovanna hired.”

Yovanna was long gone, already on her way to Australia as far as they were all concerned. Benny quirks his eyebrow up at Frankie, glancing at Will and then giving a small shove with his shoulder against his, silently asking him to continue. 

A sigh falls from Frankie’s lips, shaking his head before letting it fall out of his mouth. “She’s the Siren, from Miami.”

When he looks up at them their eyes are wide and stupefied. All watching him closely, confusion clear before a laugh bubbles out of Will. “No fucking way.”

Frankie nods, a small chuckle escaping. “Yovanna hired the DEA as her whore.” 

Everyone is quiet for another moment, all eyes going to Santiago. Pope’s eyes widened, looking between them all and then a burst of laughter fell from his mouth. 

Benny and Will join, all of them beginning to laugh around the blazing fire until one begins to wheeze. As it quiets down, Frankie realizes that all eyes are still on him waiting for further explanation. He looks at the three of them and sighs. “The only reason I found out was because her boss called her cellphone while she was in the bathroom.”

“What a shame.” Will said, shaking his head. “Could have gotten her killed if it wasn’t you.”

Frankie winces, remembering the knife pressed to your chest that he clutched in his hands. The fear in your eyes as blood pooled and dripped down doesn’t quite leave him as he says, “I mean, I almost did.”

“Well, it’s good that you didn’t.” Benny exclaims, slapping a hand over his back. “Would have to be running from the DEA rather than a bunch of drug lords.”

Frankie gives a half hearted laugh, looking out beyond the mountain and frowning. He wonders where you are, and if Javier Pena is keeping you safe. He glances over to Redfly, his body covered and supporting the weight of a single bag of money. He doesn’t think this was worth it after all. 

Panic is coursing through you at the sight; men dead both DEA and Lorea’s, mop buckets dumped and water stained with blood. Drywall is ripped from most of the walls with stacks of money hanging haphazardly from the crumbling panels. 

Javier’s mouth is open in shock, and the way you reach for him to hold yourself upright shocks you, the dizziness overwhelming. “What is….what?”

He’s shaken out of his thoughts with your touch, closing his mouth and holding your arm just above your elbow to keep you upright. He turns just as Jason steps past him. “What the fuck happened?”

Jason winces at his tone, cracking his neck. “Remaining security guards were ready for us, but most of these guys were already dead. Looks like they were cleaning up.”

“Lorea?” Javier presses, stepping toward Jason as if to pounce.

Jason doesn’t react, giving a half-hearted shrug. “Dead.” He points, moving toward the staircase. “Upstairs, if you want to see for yourself.” His eyes flash to yours sympathetically, then turning to go up the stairs. 

Javier looks to you, squeezing your arm gently before letting go and leading the way to the master bedroom. You attempt to follow him, slowly climbing the stairs until Javier is out of sight ahead of you.

You’re sweating, clutching onto the stair rail and to the walls that are still standing as images of being in here only a few days ago go through your mind. It feels hard to breathe, seeing the blood smeared on the walls and the bodies piled in a corner or being moved by DEA men.

You weren’t used to this-only ever dealing with people that were alive and putting them behind bars. Never a raid like this-you weren’t ready for it. 

You gasp, shocked as you step into the master bedroom where the dresser has been pushed to the side, the wall covered in holes and Lorea on the ground. 

Behind his dead body is a dark room with still working security cameras, and a pile of money that has been combed through. The walls in the main bedroom have been torn from the studs, drywall and wood scattered around with torn and crumpled bills. It’s almost unbelievable, how things have been left. Did Frankie do this? 

You begin shaking your head, whispering mostly to yourself, “I don’t understand.”

Javier comes up behind you, the stress and anger roiling off of his body before he gently grasps your arm. “Your friends got what they wanted out of this it looks like.” He gruffs out, pouting in a way that typically annoys you. Currently, you’re unsure if he’s angry and that alone stresses you out. 

You turn to him, frowning. “This isn’t what I thought it would be Javi–”

“Don’t.” He stops you, turning to look at Jason and the others in the room who are still occupied. He closes his eyes, breathing heavily through his nose. When he turns back to you, you are now sure that he is angry, no question. “You need to go downstairs, go sit in the car. I have to do damage control with Stechner.”

You go to protest him, shaking your head defiantly. “Well, let me help–”

“No.” He huffs, adjusting his stance to stand farther away from you. “You’ve done enough.”

You step back blindly, looking over to Jason who is eyeing you curiously, David who is pretending to not notice and taking photos of Lorea. Tears begin to well in your eyes as you walk down the steps to the front corridor, stopping in your tracks at the opening. 

You breath starts to come heavily, difficult to push past your mouth. You lean forward, hands on your knees and let some tears fall. This is not how this was supposed to go. Frankie was supposed to get in and out. They weren’t supposed to kill this many people. 

You feel guilt roiling in your stomach, looking around briefly to see if anyone is watching you while uncontrollable tears are rolling down your face. You aren’t able to comprehend how this happened-you thought you did everything right. You did what you were told, as much as you were told with only a few hiccups along the way. 

Frankie was a hiccup. 

The idea that Javi had been right flashes through your mind, shaking your head at yourself almost immediately. No, that can’t be right. But how did you seriously believe that Frankie and all of them would just sneak in for money and leave without hurting someone? 

Your heartbeat slows down as you lean against the door frame and look out into the jungle, watching the leaves sway in what little wind there was. You glanced toward the direction of Javier’s vehicle, not seeing a soul in the yard. Turning to look into the room you’re at the threshold of, you also didn’t see anyone. 

Frankie had said they were here for a payday. 

Your eyes lock on a hole in the wall, the plaster thrown about and piles of money stacked haphazardly in between the studs. You wonder why they didn’t take all the money, looking to a duffle bag that is currently empty, labeled “DEA” on the outside. 

Your mind sparks with interest, looking over the duffle and finding yourself suddenly in front of the hole in the wall, duffle in hand. You give a final glance around, still alone, and begin blindly reaching into the wall and shoving the duffle full of money. 

To be honest, you don’t really know what you’re doing. You keep hearing voices from above you, the movement of Javier, Jason and David, but it doesn’t stop you from almost filling the bag full. 

You step out into the yard, trudging in the direction of Javier’s car and throwing the duffle into the floorboard of the passenger seat. Maybe this did go all to shit, and maybe you were going to lose your job, but you weren’t going to go empty handed.

Javier is trying desperately to keep his cool. He couldn’t help the coldness toward you when he asked you to go down to the car. He needed to start planning how he was going to handle Stechner. 

That son of a bitch was going to fire him. 

You were silent as you left, too dumb founded and concerned to really have anything else to say. He knew you weren’t prepared to see this; you had trusted what you were told more than you let on, it seems. 

“Boss.” Jason tilts his head for him to come closer, looking back to the security cameras. “Looks like they haven’t deleted any files for the past week. We can likely see who did this–”

“I know who did this.” Javier huffs, crossing his arms and looking over his shoulder to see who is listening. “Get rid of them.”

Jason’s eyes widen, shaking his head briefly. “What? But we could–”

“If it is a week’s worth then she’ll be on it.” He bites out as quietly as he can manage. “And if we only get rid of her, it will look too suspicious to only have some of it. We have to get rid of it.”

“We could say it got damaged with gunfire, or that he was in the middle of reviewing and deleting–”

“No.” Javier finishes, feeling a throbbing in his head suddenly. Clean up was always the worst part with these raids, and now there were children involved. “All of it, gone. You have at max 30 minutes before Stechner starts rubbing our noses in it, so get it out of sight.”

Jason nods, agreeing that the wrath of Stechner’s connections was not worth throwing a rogue military special unit under the bus. 

No matter how badly Javier wanted Frankie to suffer.

The pricklings of jealousy are roiling through him as he takes the stairs down, half expecting you to be standing there waiting for him in defiance. When he doesn’t find you, he takes a deep breath and leans against an open hole in the wall. 

His eyes catch on the stacks of money, biting at the inside of his cheek at the temptation. Who would miss this, exactly? 

There’s no opportunity, David coming down the stairs with paperwork and Jason following shortly behind him, confirming that everything had been deleted. Javier can feel his phone ringing in his pocket as he starts his trek to his car, the top of your head coming into view. 

He looks down, seeing Stechner’s caller-id and silencing his phone automatically. His stride speeds up, launching his door open to see you leaning forward with your elbows on your knees, crying into your hands. 

An ache in his chest takes over the frustration as he climbs into the driver’s seat placing a gentle hand on the back of your neck. You jump at the contact, lifting your head to look at him briefly before you try to suppress your tears. 

“It’s okay, hermosa.” He coos, pulling your face toward his and pressing his lips to the crown of your head. 

You try to suck in air harshly, wiping at your face and shrinking away from him. “This is all my fault.”

Javier isn’t as quick as he would like to say no, debating internally of whether or not to point out things he finds to be true. If you hadn’t stayed an extra day, not answering his phone call and spending it with Frankie, then maybe they would have captured Lorea, maybe they all would be keeping their jobs. 

Instead he is silent, rubbing his thumb back and forth over the curve of the back of your neck, sighing. “Let’s go back to the office before we get in any more trouble.”

You’re sitting on Javier’s couch again, dumbstruck and numb.

You were fired, of course. 

Being shipped back to Miami by the end of the week is what the ambassador had said. “You’re still welcome to work for the DEA there, but we have no further assignments for you here.”

Javier was the last to enter Noonan’s office, watching each of you get canned in different ways. David was being moved to another division, Jason was being shipped off to California, you were being sent home, and Javier…

You dreaded to think about what would be happening with his position. 

He asked you to go to his place, slipping his key to you and brushing past your shoulder without another glance before he was called into Noonan’s office. You weren’t completely sure what Javier would want to say to you in the privacy of your home, and you hoped he understood.

You felt like a fuck up. 

His door was pushed open before you had much more time to spiral, his suit jacket off and over his shoulder, his eyes finding yours. “Sorry, it took longer than I thought.”

“What did he say?” You ask quietly, beginning to pick at the skin around your thumbnail. 

Javier clocks it, throwing his jacket on the back of a chair and slipping off his shoes at the table. He strides over, giving a soft smile before settling next to you and grabbing for your hands. “He asked what I was thinking, asked if I thought stepping away from the cartels was worth what Lorea potentially had.”

“And?” You were impatient, clasping your hands tighter and worrying your bottom lip. 

He shrugs. “I told him I had good intel, said it was worth the risk.” Your eyes can’t help but look over to the duffle bag you dropped by your other bag of belongings. He brings your attention back to him by saying, “Let me come home with you.”

You’re shocked, furrowing your brow and pulling your hands away from his. “What?”

“I quit, and I don’t want to go back to Texas just yet.” He shrugs, almost nonchalantly except you know better-his eyes are telling a different story. The apprehension behind them, the way they watch your facial expressions. 

“I-I don’t know if I’m going to go back to Miami or not yet, Javi.” You sigh, looking to the floor. Part of you thinks you need to return to Utica, to hide away for as long as possible and forget about all of this. About the jungle, about Javier, about Frankie. 

Javi’s hand brushes against your cheek, subconsciously leaning toward him. “I wouldn’t mind seeing the snow.” He says quietly, smirking before correcting himself. “If you’ll have me.”

Your heart beats faster, tilting into him and smiling. “You wouldn’t even stop in Texas first?”

He shrugs. “Maybe for a week, to let my dad know what is going on but…I would meet you wherever you wanted me to.”

“Why?” The question falls out of your mouth, unable to be stopped. You and Javier had been back and forth, and you weren’t necessarily opposed to this–whatever this was. 

It was mostly just complicated. 

Javier smiles almost shyly at you, scratching his fingers at the base of your skull. “I care about you.” He says simply, leaning forward and brushing his lips against yours but pulling back before fully committing to the act. His eyes searched yours, asking for permission. 

You met him the rest of the way, leaning in to press your lips to his and shutting your eyes tightly. Javier groaned into your mouth, bringing his other hand up to the other side of your face and holding you to him. 

He pulls away for a moment, face flushed and his eyes closed. “I don’t just care about you. I just…do you need me like I need you?” He questions, opening his eyes to look into yours. 

They’re wide, a dark chocolate brown that you wish you could swim in to forget all your worries, but his question has you unsure. “I don’t know what you mean, Javi.”

He pulls away, clasping your hands in his again and running the pad of his thumb over your knuckles. “I mean that…if you and I aren’t in the same room, then I’m thinking about you.” You pauses, pressing his lips to one hand and then the other. “If you’re in trouble, then I want to get to you.”

Javier leans back forward, pressing his mouth to yours and letting his tongue swipe briefly around before mumbling against your lips. “And if you’re not the one on top of me then–”

“I get it.” You mumble back, pressing your lips back to his and bringing your fingers up to mess up his curls. 

He groans again, his question forgotten as you straddle his thighs and slide a hand under his shirt and up to his chest. 

You laugh as he pushes your shirt up, helping you undo your bra and remove everything from the waist up. His lips sear into the skin of your chest, burning into you like a brand. 

It’s quick, faster than normal how you both become completely naked and his hands are squeezing at your hips to get you sinking on to his cock. His eyes are rolling back into his head as your nails dig into the meat of his shoulders, riding him slowly and carefully. 

He squeezes your hips harder until you yelp, almost in pain, just so that he can hold you up and thrust himself into you instead of having you do the work. 

The sweat covering you starts to cool with his breath fanning over you, both of you silent beyond grunts and moans. He’s focused on your center, his thumb snaking to your front to press gently into your clit, his eyes snapping up to watch you orgasm around him. 

He follows you over that cliff, letting you collapse into him and his arms wrapping around your back, stroking up and down your spine.

It’s a moment or two before you lean upright, smiling down at him and brushing the fringe off of his forehead. “I think that I need you too.” You whisper, watching the smile spread across his face. 

“Yeah?” He asks lightly, pressing a kiss in between your breasts before playfully biting at one nipple. 

You laugh again, nodding along with him. “I think I’ll go to Miami to start, though. And you should go to Texas.”

He grumbles, half-heartedly agreeing before mumbling. “Yeah, okay.”

Two weeks later

You’re sitting cross legged in an almost empty apartment in Bogatá, packing up the final bag of your belongings. Another stack of money is being wrapped in a shirt, folded neatly with a pair of jeans as if nothing is wrong with it before being placed carefully into the suitcase. 

You had put as much as you could into your bank account without raising suspicions, but the whole thing was nerve wracking to begin with. You phone is ringing incessantly somewhere, and you blindly reach for the last place you left it.

Pressing it to your ear, you answer. “Hello?”

“Hermosa.” Javier says through the speaker, a clear smile in his voice. “You lose your phone again? You need a new one?”

“No, no…” You trail off, looking to the turned off burner phone you had left on your kitchen table. You pick it up, fiddling with it as you pace. “How’s Texas?”

“Oh fine.” He grumbles, shuffling around something before the click of a door reaches your ears. “Wanted to make sure you were on your way to the airport.”

“Just about, the car is on it’s way.” The burner phone comes to life in your hands, the screen a bright blue before it settles and tells an incorrect time. “Everything is basically packed though.”

“Good.” Javier pauses and you can sense his nervousness. 

“What is it Javi?” You ask with a small chuckle, crossing your arms. 

“Just wanted to make sure it was still okay to fly to Miami in a week?” He asks. You can picture that he is running his hand through his hair right now. “You’ll only have been back a week, and I don’t want to impose–”

“You’re not!” You exclaim. “I’m looking forward to seeing you. Don’t back out on me.”

“Alright, alright.” He laughs, then launching into something his father did the night before and complaining that he is getting called by the Sheriff’s office to become a deputy. “They want me? A retired DEA agent?”

“Well your ass would look great in their uniforms.” You coo, zipping up the suitcase and setting it by the door. 

He grumbles, complaining a bit more before finally asking for you to have a good flight, and to let him know when you have landed, even with the time difference. 

You make the promise, hearing someone honk at the front door and hanging up quickly before exiting the apartment and tossing the key under the mat. 

After loading up your bag and getting comfortable in the back seat, your phone begins to ring again. You groan out loud, looking down to your hand where you are still holding the burner phone and your daily phone, and see that it is not the one you had expected. The number is not one you know, and obviously not saved in the contacts, but your heart begins to beat faster. 

The burner rings for a third time before you snap out of wondering who it could be, flipping it open and bringing it to your ear. You listen for a moment, frowning when there is no clear indication of who it could be. “Hello?”

A sigh you’ve heard. “‘You alright?” Frankie gruffs through the speaker, quiet but calm. 

“How the hell did you get this number?” You ask just as quietly. 

“Remembered a few digits. Sue me.” He bites back, and you feel yourself heating at the thought. Frankie as he looked through your phone to see Javi calling you over and over, also going to the settings to find what the number to the phone was. You’re not sure if the heat is anger or want. 

“What the fuck happened?” You launch into questioning him, asking why they had done what they did, trying to not frighten the driver that was pretending to not listen. 

“It got all screwed up, and I ended up more broke than before.” He sighs after listening to your rant, your questions drilling into him. You think that maybe he is actually relaxed somewhere, resigned. 

You glance down to your purse between your feet, some of the money you had taken in your own wallet. “You didn’t even get any of it?”

“Oh, we got some. Lots, even.” He laughs ruefully. “But it was too much for the helicopter, and Redfly died and–we got enough to get us out of there.”

You hum, slightly disappointed for him. You think briefly that you should tell him you were able to get some of the cash, but then quickly decide against it. 

The driver pulls up into the airport temporary parking, popping the trunk and pulling out your bags for you. 

“Frankie, I have to go.” You sigh. 

“Where?” He scoffs, not believing you. 

You roll your eyes, looking around and seeing that driver has already left, and you’re about to be late for security. “I have to get on this flight. Go home.”

“Miami?” He asks, suddenly excited. 

“Well, yeah I–”

“Let me pick you up.” He interrupts. 

You pause, standing on the sidewalk with the burner pressed to your ear, your other phone in your hand. Finally, after a long moment of silence with Frankie patiently waiting on the other end, you’ve decided. 

“My flight lands at 4.” You confirm. 

You almost hear him smiling. “I’ll be there.” He says quietly, a silent promise following his words. 

You click the phone shut, looking around you briefly before tossing the burner into the nearby trash, stepping toward the entrance to get your bags checked. Frankie could memorize your new number later.

[keep-the-wolves-close]

The Hound's Pursuit

Chapter 2: The Gathering Storm

Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with the movie Triple Frontier and I don't claim to have created its original characters. The only characters that belong to me are Juniper and JD.

This is posted for pure entertainment, and I do not make profit off of this.

Warnings: mentions of violence and dangerous situations, language, mental strain, intense conversations, anxiety, dread, loss.

Pairing: Will "Ironhead" Miller x Juniper "Hound" Winters

Word Count: 3,743ish

Author's Note: I hope you all enjoy! It’s a little longer, but we’re in the heavy exposition point. Only downfall of making mission plans lol. I'd love to hear your thoughts on it! A little nervous about this one. Especially with the plan lol.

Also big big love to @lexixstewart for being a cheerleader and sounding board and part beta reader for this chapter! 💛

Juni spotted Will’s truck a few cars ahead of her in traffic. She smiled softly at the thought of him leaning to the left on the window, right hand gripping the wheel, head propped on his hand. His bright blue eyes hooded from lack of sleep. She could see a second silhouette in the rear windshield and realized Benny was with him.

Her grin spread thinking about the close sibling pair. Will’s turn signal popped on breaking her out of her reverie. Turning on her own, she pulled her 1991 Ford F-150 up outside of the warehouse Pope had told them to meet him at. Looking to her right, she smiled when Will smirked at her presence.

Grinding gears of the warehouse door pulled their attention to who was opening the building. The bony hand of apprehension wound its way up Juni’s shoulders seeing Pope in the corner of the large door back lit by the dim lighting from inside. The edges of her vision went blurry as her heart thudded in her chest.

She heard two doors slam shut, and Will came into her line of sight in front of her truck. He spread his arms wide as he leaned on the hood of her truck. He stared into her, urging her to keep a cool head. Juni knew he would help her get out if she needed to. She nodded shakily at him.

Benny darted around the back of her truck and opened her door. His heart thudded in his chest worried about where this was about to go. "Hey, June. Just breathe," Benny said, lowering his voice. "Focus on me." His tone was firm yet gentle, like coaxing a frightened animal back to safety. Benny realized she was still good, he let out a small huff. His attempt to reassure her didn’t fall on deaf ears, but the rising bile in the back of her throat made it difficult to fight back.

Juni blinked hard, refocusing her sight, and peered up at the other younger sibling of the group.

"There's my brown-eyed girl. Me and Will got your six," Benny said, flashing her a boyish grin. The sound of her brother's jeep cut through the moment. Benny sighed. “Even JD will make sure you’re good. Just listen to what Pope has to say.”

Doubting Pope felt like deception to her. In the past, his judgment could be trusted, no contest. When retirement started looming over Pope’s head, Juni noticed his actions became more reckless.

His planning skills weren’t as sharp anymore, more impulsive instead of tactical. Her thoughts drifted to the time when he had planned a mission from A to Z. Each point had a specific cadence and was enacted perfectly. She remembered him pacing back and forth, delegating orders. Eyes sharp, and commands clear.

Now, as of the Lorea mission, it felt like he was gambling. Not all the blame could be put on Pope though. Redfly’s greed threw a wrench into their once perfect rhythm.

Out of all of them, Juni was the most apprehensive about being dragged back into another mission of Pope’s. If that kid from the village had been wrong about who he was shooting at? It could have been JD that died that day. He was right next to Redfly, and from behind they both looked similar. When she had seen the blood on her brother, she thought she had lost everything.

As JD walked up behind Benny, he clapped a hand on Benny’s shoulder and peeked around to inspect his little sister’s expression, concern inscribed in his face. “You good, Juni?”

She stared over Benny’s tall shoulder at her brother. JD could see the fear in her eyes. He knew she was overthinking. She seemed to be the only one that did. He reached around Benny and nudged her arm. “Hey, don’t do that. Let us,” he motioned to himself, Benny, and Will, “take care of that for now.”

Juni glanced back at Will in front of her truck, and then past him at Pope waiting for them to come inside. Will's eyes narrowed as he watched Juni's lips purse. She exhaled shakily. He wanted to scoop her up, throw her in his truck, and drive away from the turmoil. But he respected her strength. Yet he couldn't shake the feeling that she shouldn't face this alone.

The grumble of Frankie's old truck pulled her from her anxiety. Juni watched as he hopped out, slamming the door shut with the squeak echoing in the desolated parking lot. Her eyes followed him as he rounded the front of his truck and met up with Will, creating more of a barrier between her and the object of her discomfort.

Frankie locked eyes with her and gave a paternal smile and nod, silently making sure she was okay. He knew how difficult it was to be brought back into a mission after the last one. It had done a number on her, all of them, and she had to be talked down from a ledge many times once they got back. Having a daughter had really done wonders for his empathy levels. She gave him a weak smile back.

Juni gandered back up at Benny with a sigh. “Let's get this shit show over with, boys.”

Pope’s voice echoed through the warehouse as he hollered from the doorway, his arms crossed. His disheveled hair and the dark circles under his eyes spoke of a sleepless night. “C’mon guys! We don’t have all night!” Juni’s stomach twisted at his urgency, her heartbeat pounding in her ears as if echoing his call. Though his voice was steady, Pope's hands trembled slightly, betraying the urgency that simmered just beneath the surface. “With the help of Hound, this plan will be amazing.”

Frankie’s head spun around hearing Pope’s confidence waver. He gave a sharp glower to Pope at the use of Juni’s ops nickname. He knew how much it affected her mental state. It was almost as if JR or Hound were trigger words that changed her personality into something borderline predatory. The tension rolled through the group at Pope’s choice of words.

She winced at the use of her nickname, a visceral reaction coursing through her. It felt like a stiff uppercut from Benny. It was a reminder of the power she wielded but also the darkness she fought to leave behind. The bile she'd pushed down crept back up her throat, burning as it came, accompanied by the metallic taste of anxiety.

The name used to bring her a sense of pride because of how good she was at her job. Now, it felt like a brand. Bringing reminders of a past she’d worked hard to overcome. The things she’d done under the guise of that name were horrific. She had worked hard in therapy to escape that.

Juni was unaware of the warning look Will shot his little brother and JD. He was making sure they’d pull Juni back if her anger got the better of her. Yes, she had herself under control a good portion of the time, but Will knew if she was pushed too far, she’d go into a frenzy and they would need a coroner. Not for Juni, but for Pope.

They called her Hound for a reason, but there was also another meaning behind it. When she lost her cool, she was a man eater. When she was done with whoever was in her way, it looked like a pack of wild dogs got a hold of them. Not even JD had been able to explain where Juni’s astronomical level of violence had surfaced from.

As the tension thickened, an old memory crashed into Will's mind dragging him back to a time of helplessness. The sight of bodies — torn to shreds — flashed before him, bringing a chill down his spine as he remembered the moment he'd feared for Juni and Benny. A haunting reminder of what happened when Juni was pushed too far. The person she was as the Hound was terrifying.

The bodies of the men littered around the room, torn to shreds from knives and gunfire. The fear that zapped down his spine when he didn’t spot Benny or Juni right away but knew they’d been cornered. The consequences that followed had been brutal.

He could tell that Juni and his brother had gotten backed into a corner because those men looked like they’d gone through a woodchipper. When Will had gotten Benny and Juni back to the group, it had taken Benny, JD, and himself to hold back her wrath from Redfly and Pope.

Benny extended his hand in quiet stability while she hopped out of her truck. Without hesitation, Juni took it, her fingers gripped his palm as she swung her legs out of the cab of the truck. She smiled thanks to Benny and stepped around him. Hearing her truck door shut, she knew Benny and her brother were close behind her. The crunch of some loose gravel had her attention as she counted her steps.

The asphalt radiated the summertime heat it had collected throughout the day, wrapping her in a warm blanket. It reminded her of Will, bringing a small amount of comfort. Coming around the front of her truck, Frankie stepped back to let her between him and Will. She peered up at the blond man. Their eyes locking in on each other, assessing. No one from the team moved, waiting patiently for her to take the lead. For her to set the pace.

A loud clap from Pope vibrated through her bones making her jump, her nerves raw and electrified. The group’s eyes shot over to their old friend. He chuckled softly, “Juni, I’m glad you showed.” Juni swallowed thickly. “When you left last night, I thought I was in the shit.”

Juni squared her shoulders, bracing for the impact of her next declaration. “Me being here doesn’t mean you aren’t in it, my friend.” She paused to let that sink into Pope’s head. “But I have to say,” her posture relaxed as she cocked a hip, unconsciously moving closer to Will. “When I’m done talking, you have exactly 60 minutes to tell me everything you need me to know and why my participation is so important to you.” She caught him in a simmering glare, silencing any argument from him.

“If you fail to do so,” Pope’s soft grin faltered when heard her voice drop low and hazardous. He felt about three feet high with the look she pinned him with. It was the Hound speaking to him, not Juni. Her brown eyes — ablaze in red like hellfire from the fading sunset — looked demonic. Taking a half step back, he thought about which direction he could run that would be the quickest getaway.

Benny glanced between his brother and Frankie, alarm bells tolling in his ears. They felt her personality shift. It was thick, heavy, and dark. Like drowning in molasses. The guys silently flanked her like a shadow, ready for when she jumped at Pope’s jugular. It wasn’t a question of if she’d jump, but when.

Pope knew he was pressing his luck. He felt like he was staring down Cerberus with a slowly deteriorating chain keeping her tethered. “Like I said yesterday, I’m telling you you’re a fuckin’ dumbass, and I’m leaving. To take your suicide mission, and leave. I won’t stand by while you destroy yourself or the people I care about. Not again.”

Pope cleared his throat, wiping his palms on his shirt. “Well then,” he waved the group inside the warehouse. “Shall we?”

Juni’s feet moved forward into the dim warehouse. The Hound persona, stiffly unfurling itself from its slumber, brushing off the rust that she’d worked hard to pack away after Brazil. She scoffed at herself. She should know by now it wouldn’t truly go away. She squinted to adjust to the low yellow light. The footsteps of the rest of the group echoed behind her, giving her a sense of formation. She stared at the back of Pope’s head as she trailed behind him down the walkway.

At the edges of her peripheral, she could see Benny standing tall on her left. Will caught up to her pace on her right, meaning Frankie and JD were bringing up the rear. A small nudge of her elbow made her head turn to Will as they kept walking. Her face scrunched in silent question. Her mouth turned upward in a grateful grin. For a fraction of a second, she let her shoulders relax just enough to tell Will she was good.

Realizing it had already been two minutes, she pushed Pope gently. “58 minutes.” Pope sighed heavily at her antagonizing. “You thought I was joking about the time limit?” Juni chuckled darkly. “Amateur.”

He groaned and bit his bottom lip. Coming to a stop outside a room, Pope turned to the group with a flourish. He placed the palm of his hand flat on the door, feeling the cold metal. A shiver ran down his spine when his eyes landed on Juni.

“56 minutes, Garcia.” Her voice bit at him.

He swung the door open wide in annoyance. “Go. On the table is a map of the areas we need to cover.” Juni huffed at his theatrics and shoved past Pope and into the room, Will tailed closely behind.

They came upon a large map on an even bigger table. In front of them were three screens, a screensaver that floated back and forth between them. There was a light above the table, making the shine of the laminated map bounce back harshly. Will watched Juni lean over the map, bracing herself on the table. Her bottom lip caught in between her teeth, brows scrunched up in concentration. She pointed at a few locations on the map, its laminated surface cool from the sparse room.

Will followed her finger. He trailed his eyes up her arm, that was littered with a few tattoos, and back to her face. The look of intensity made his breath hitch. Pope marched around the other side of the table to look at Juni.

Juni decided to address the elephant in the room once everyone was inside, targeting Pope directly. “Pope, this is South America.” Her shoulders felt rock hard at the idea of going back there. “Why the fuck would I wanna go back there?” She sniffed, annoyed by the musty smell of the warehouse.

“You and Will are the only reason this works.”

Benny frowned at Pope’s insistence that Will and Juni were the epicenter of this mission. He wasn’t sure he liked where this was going. Redfly had been the one to get everyone on board with the last one. The ghost of their last mission haunted him briefly. He gave a silent look to Frankie and JD, then back to his brother and Juni. He noticed her fingers were digging into the tabletop.

Will sighed heavily and placed his hand on the table, almost touching Juni’s tense fingers that gouged into the surface. The buzz of energy between them made Juni give him a sidelong glance. She could see the irritation rolling off of him like steam.

Before Will could open his mouth and say something to Pope, Juni beat him to it. “Start talking,” she ground out. Benny and Frankie chuckled, nerves rattled in their chests. Pope’s eyebrows tightened at her order. Juni stared back, unwavering.

“You always liked to get to the point, didn’t you, JR?” Pope chuckled darkly, challenging her.

Juni’s jaw tightened so hard she thought her teeth might crack. Her posture on the table looked feral, swaying back and forth like a wolf sizing up its prey. “If I wanted to dance around the point, I’d ask Frankie.”

Frankie laughed at the dig from Juni, trying to break the sour air between the old friends, “I mean, I do dance a mean rumba, cariño.” He swiveled his hips and waggled his eyebrows provocatively at Juni. She rolled her eyes, irked that he could break her through the haze so easily. She struggled to keep the metaphorical snapping jaws at bay.

Pope gave Frankie a smirk, thankful for his interjection. “This isn’t just a cash grab. We have the opportunity to destabilize a faction of the black market trading and trafficking, and several criminal organizations by going through with this.”

His eyes broke from the hold Juni had on him, and searched the table. “We settle old scores,” Pope grabbed the black plastic remote that glinted in the intense light. “And if you’re as good as I know you are?” He clicked the screens to life. “We might make some money in the process.” The group squinted at the flash of life from the large screens.

Eight medium sized pictures captured the group’s attention. The photos were of specific locations, and the criminals that held control of the spaces.

The first two pictures were of a dilapidated building, and a grainy photo of a paramilitary group shown on the far left. It looked like a house that turned into a bunker. Some of the windows on the first floor were boarded up, the door missing, overgrown with weeds and bushes. Keeping up the illusion of abandonment.

The second set of photos appeared to be temple ruins and a group of black and white mugshots of smugglers. Juni thought she recognized some faces from past missions. Vines splayed across the wide flat surfaces of the ruins, twisted and knotted around the few short columns left standing. It looked flooded in some areas.

The third location photo was more modern, the picture next to it of the crime syndicate members recently identified. The woman in the center of the large group caught Juni’s eye, a tingle running down her spine. Something about her looked familiar, but Juni couldn’t quite put her finger on why or who the woman was.

The picture of the location closely resembled an underground office. If Juni didn’t know any better, it looked like a black market trading spot. Juni pictured her younger self in the middle of a warehouse. Talk of incoming shipments of items to be trafficked from one criminal’s hand to the other. Accounting, wire transfers to offshore accounts, plans to steal the artifacts and art.

The final images were of an old mining facility that was no longer in use, and a pixelated blob of people. Recognition quickened Juni’s pulse when she saw the mountain peaks in the background. She was looking at the Andes, which weren’t forgiving even during the best of times.

Snow piled around the fixtures and deserted machinery, making the cold jump out and bite at her cheeks. Giving her a quick reminder of how cold she’d been after they crash landed. The mental image of the look Benny gave her when they crawled out of the wreckage. Redfly getting shot, her scream tearing from her raw throat, Will struggling to hold her back.

Juni pulled herself off the table and out of the reverie. She crossed her arms, her elbow brushed against Will’s. “Pope,” her voice deceptively calm and quiet, “if you think I’m stepping foot back in the fuckin’ Andes, you’re an idiot.”

Pope held his hand out, asking her to back off for a second. “I’ve gained some intel on a hidden cache in the middle of the jungle. Filled with artifacts, artwork, all sorts of valuable missing things.” Juni raised an eyebrow. The grip she had around her elbows tightened. The other guys shifted on their feet. “If we find this cache, we can give the items back to their rightful owners, and destabilize the criminal organizations that have their hands on them.”

JD looked to his sister, watching the tension roll through her. Will stood close next to her, stoic and looking dangerous. JD spoke up for the first time since they came into the warehouse. “What’s the actual catch?”

Pope pointed at JD with a smile. “I’m glad you asked.” Frankie frowned at the overly confident manner Pope tried to inflict on the already volatile situation. “The slight hiccup is, the coordinates of the cache are separated into fragmented codes in four different locations. Guarded by the different criminal factions in the matching pictures.” He motioned to the screens behind him. “These are the places where we'll find the coordinates information, but we’ll need to be able to figure out where the clues are.”

“So before we get to the actual cache, we’re gonna have to play seek and find?” Benny grumbled. He thought it was too many steps, too many chances for something to go wrong.

Juni rolled her neck to the side to look at Will. Finally, she understood why Pope wanted her and Will so badly. His mouth set in a hard line, the muscles in his jaw working overtime.

Pope’s voice cut through the moment, resolute. “Lorea was a shit show, yes,” he admitted, gaze casted downward. He knew it was a fine line he was walking. “But the jobs we did before that? Flawless. Just not for our paychecks. This time, we could be set for life.”

Juni felt the gentleness from Pope’s tone. He wasn’t trying to get her to agree anymore. He wasn’t forcing anyone’s hand. He truly believed they could make it work. Her shoulders dropped when she looked around at everyone. She exhaled slowly, releasing all the tension the last 24 hours had given her. “Santi,” Juni started, meeting Pope’s eyes as he looked up at her. “I know your heart is in the right place.” She gave him a small smile that was tinged with worry. “But this plan… we can’t guarantee we’ll all come home alive.”

Benny nodded solemnly with his arms crossed. “There are too many moving parts.”

“A heap of different outside uncontrollable variables,” Frankie added, images of the six of them getting overrun by enemies fueled his uneasiness.

Juni observed everyone intently now that they had all the information. The disquiet hummed through them like an electric current. Her teeth gnawed at her bottom lip. She caught Will’s stare, the intense heat there gripped her chest. There was an imperceptible nod between them.

She looked at an imaginary watch on her wrist, and sighed. “I’ll give you an additional 10 minutes to explain to me how all of us make it out alive.”

[emma23]

The unplanned vow :

Santiago Garcia x reader

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Santiago "Pope" Garcia had always lived life on his own terms. After leaving the military, he and his friends Francisco "Catfish" Morales, Benny Miller, William "Ironhead" Miller, and Tom "Redfly" Davis had navigated through various missions and challenges together. But life had taken unexpected turns, and now Santiago found himself contemplating an entirely different kind of mission: marriage.

Y/N, a long-time family friend and confidante, was facing a crisis. Her visa was about to expire, threatening her ability to stay in the country. Despite her professional success and deep connections, bureaucratic red tape threatened to upend her life. In a moment of desperation, she had joked about marrying someone to solve her problem. Santiago, always the problem-solver, had taken it seriously.

"Are you crazy?" Y/N laughed, though there was an edge of desperation in her voice. They were sitting in her small, cozy apartment, surrounded by boxes as she prepared for the worst-case scenario.

"Not crazy," Santiago replied, his tone serious. "Just practical. We get married, you stay. Simple as that."

Y/N stared at him, searching his face for any sign of jest. Finding none, she sighed. "You know this is insane, right? Marriage is... a big deal."

Santiago shrugged. "It's just paperwork, really. And it solves your problem. We can go back to being friends afterward."

She hesitated, the weight of the decision pressing on her. "And what about... feelings? Complications?"

"We're adults. We can handle it," Santiago assured her. "And we care about each other. That's enough for a marriage of convenience."

With no better options, Y/N agreed. They decided to keep the arrangement a secret from their friends, at least for now, to avoid unnecessary questions and concerns.

The ceremony was quick and quiet, held at a small courthouse with only a few witnesses present. Santiago's team was conspicuously absent, as they had agreed to keep the marriage under wraps. Despite the lack of fanfare, the moment was not without its own significance.

As they exchanged vows, Santiago couldn't help but notice how right it felt to stand beside Y/N. There was a familiarity, a comfort that went beyond their friendship. He pushed the thought aside, focusing on the task at hand.

"Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?" the officiant asked, looking at Y/N.

She glanced at Santiago, who gave her a reassuring smile. "I do," she replied, her voice steady.

"And do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?" the officiant turned to Santiago.

"I do," Santiago answered without hesitation, sealing their fate with two simple words.

As they walked out of the courthouse, rings on their fingers and a marriage certificate in hand, Santiago couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between them. But he kept his thoughts to himself, knowing they had agreed this was just a practical arrangement.

Living together was a new challenge. They had always been close, but sharing a home brought out new dynamics. Santiago quickly discovered Y/N's quirks and routines, from her early morning coffee ritual to her late-night reading habit. She, in turn, learned about his preference for late-night workouts and his penchant for leaving things just slightly out of place.

"Did you always leave your shoes in the middle of the floor?" Y/N teased one evening, nearly tripping over his sneakers.

Santiago grinned sheepishly. "Force of habit. I'll try to do better."

Despite the occasional awkward moment, they settled into a comfortable routine. Santiago found himself enjoying the domesticity, a stark contrast to his usual high-adrenaline lifestyle. He liked coming home to Y/N, sharing meals and conversations that flowed easily between them.

"Te ves hermosa hoy," Santiago said one morning as he caught sight of Y/N dressed for a meeting. His Spanish, reserved for moments of affection, always caught her off guard.

She blushed, her eyes sparkling with a mix of surprise and delight. "Gracias, Santiago."

Their friends, oblivious to the true nature of their marriage, noticed the changes. Francisco, ever observant, was the first to comment.

"You two have been spending a lot of time together," he noted during a casual barbecue.

Y/N and Santiago exchanged a quick glance. "We're just friends," Santiago replied, though the words felt less true each time he said them.

As the months passed, Santiago found it increasingly difficult to separate his feelings from their arrangement. He enjoyed Y/N's company, her wit, and the way she seemed to understand him without needing words. He cherished the quiet moments they shared, like watching a movie together or cooking dinner.

One night, after a particularly stressful day, Santiago found himself confiding in Y/N about his fears and insecurities. She listened patiently, offering support and comfort in a way that no one else ever had. In that moment, Santiago realized he had fallen for her—deeply and irrevocably.

But he hesitated to say anything, afraid of ruining what they had. He wasn't sure if Y/N felt the same way, and he didn't want to burden her with his feelings. So, he kept his distance, even as his heart ached to tell her the truth.

Y/N, meanwhile, was grappling with her own emotions. She had agreed to the marriage out of necessity, but somewhere along the line, she had fallen for Santiago. His kindness, his strength, and his unwavering support had endeared him to her in ways she hadn't anticipated.

But like Santiago, she kept her feelings hidden, fearing that confessing them might complicate their arrangement or, worse, drive him away.

Their carefully maintained facade began to crack during a dinner party with their friends. Francisco, ever perceptive, sensed the undercurrents between them and decided to confront Santiago.

"You've changed," Francisco said bluntly, catching Santiago off guard in the kitchen.

Santiago looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

Francisco leaned in, his voice low. "With Y/N. It's more than just friendship, isn't it?"

Santiago sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's complicated, Fish. We agreed to this arrangement, and now... I don't know."

Francisco nodded, a knowing smile on his face. "Feelings aren't always logical, hermano. But if you care about her, you need to tell her."

Santiago knew Francisco was right. He couldn't keep pretending everything was fine. He had to take a chance, to be honest about his feelings, even if it meant risking their friendship.

That night, as they were cleaning up after the party, Santiago turned to Y/N, his heart pounding. "We need to talk," he began, his voice serious.

Y/N looked at him, her eyes wide with concern. "What is it?"

Santiago took a deep breath. "I can't do this anymore. Pretend like we're just friends. I've fallen for you, Y/N. And I need to know... do you feel the same?"

Y/N felt a rush of emotions—relief, joy, and a tinge of fear. She had been so afraid of this moment, but now that it was here, all she could feel was overwhelming happiness.

"I do," she whispered, tears welling in her eyes. "I've been afraid to say anything because I didn't want to ruin what we had. But I love you, Santiago."

Santiago felt a weight lift off his shoulders. He stepped closer, taking her hands in his. "Then let's stop pretending. Let's be real, together”

[jamneuromain]

Addictive

Santiago "Pope" Garcia x PhD Candidate!Reader (You)

Warning: Sugar Daddy!Santiago Garcia, Implied age gap (Santiago is in his late 30s, reader in her mid-20s), Mention of a near-death experience ... fluff, eventual smut but we'll see about that (and more tags to come)

Summary: The start of an unconventional sugar relationship.

A/N: I solemnly blame @innorogers for indulging me with sugar daddy!Santiago Gargia thoughts. Thank you 太太 you're the best. Mwah😘

Prologue

"What are you going to do with your share?"

>

"So, what are you going to do with your share?"

It is a question that has come up way too many times in their time spent together. They discussed the possibility of being rich in that shabby pub during the humid and sticky night before the heist. They talked about it again, after the heist, when they nearly lost Redfly on the mountain ridge, nerves on edge with two hundred million on their backs. They ended up splitting the stolen money five ways. Each gets a share, which is forty million US dollars: Tom "Redfly" Davis, William "Ironhead" Miller, Ben Miller, Francisco "Catfish" Morales, and of course, last but not least, himself, Santiago "Pope" Garcia.

Ben got the Ferrari he always wanted. Tom deposited a quarter of his money into the college fund for his girls. William was finally rid of the horrific job of giving the same speech to uniformed men and women, now investing in a gun range. Francisco spends a couple of hours a day in some aviation club, working as a coach. He owns the entire hanger and all the iron birds inside.

Santiago ... Santiago hasn't done anything with his money apart from getting a flat and buying a new car.

So, the question now is specifically targeting him. Now that the five men are watching football from the latest model of a flat-screen TV in Tom's living room.

"What are you going to do with your share, huh Santi?" Frankie repeats with a shit-eating grin.

"Dunno." Santiago takes a sip of his beer, avoiding the scrutinizing gaze of his four closest friends, smoothing his gray strands with his other hand, "I'll figure something out. But enough of me, I heard your Tess wanted to be a doctor?"

There's only one of them who has a family: Tom.

Tom was two inches away from getting shot in the forehead up on the Andes.

Tom chuckles, "That's my bright girl, alright. Takes up after her mom, thank the Lord. Still, the tuition for Pre-med is a bitch. Speaking of, could you pick her up from her AP tutoring at five thirty? It's in a studio near the real estate agency I used to work for. I had other plans for Molly at six."

Ben whistles after one too many beers, "Getting your wife back, nice."

William punches his younger brother Ben in the shoulder.

Tom shakes his head with a small smile, "Can't keep my hopes up though. But Tess - you can pick her up for me, right?" He turns to Santiago for confirmation.

"Sure, bud." Santiago clicks his beer bottle with his former team captain.

Approximately two hours later, you catches his eye when Santiago drives to the tutoring studio to pick up Tess. A pencil in your ear, a load of books in your arms. Your cuffs faded into a lighter shade than the outfit, one of your sleeves resewn, tighter and shorter compared to the other one, the side of your hand smudged in pencil dust, waving Tess goodbye.

"Hey, Uncle Santiago!" Tess pipes up, sliding into the front seat of his sleek black sedan.

"Hey, Tess. Who's that?" Santiago lifts his chin at the girl - you - at the bus stop.

"Oh! That's my tutor for AP Chemistry. She works for this tutoring studio but she's actually a brilliant grad student in the Med School. It's her second year in the PhD program. She works on this really cool project called ..."

As the young teen's voice fades into the background, Santiago pulls his car out from the parking lot. The question that has been haunting him ever since the planning of the heist pops into his mind.

Yeah. He thinks to himself. I'll figure something out.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | ...

[ktwritesstuff]

Nothing Else Matters (a Triple Frontier shifters AU) Chapter 5

Title: Nothing Else Matters Fandom: Triple Frontier Rating: Explicit Characters & Pairings: Reader x Triple Frontier Boys reverse harem style Word Count: ~2,000 Summary: Things with Santiago reach their boiling point.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 (below cut) | Chapter 6

Content Notes: rough sex, a little d/s with shifter dynamics, etc.

Chapter Five

After three days, Will’s fever finally broke.  Arrangements were made to have Tom’s remains cremated and returned to the states.  And then there was the matter of the money: five million and change.  Split five ways it wasn’t enough to live on even if you spent the rest of your days as misers.  To hear that Santiago’s woman got two million of her own left you seething, but still you put on your best dress and got Luna ready to go to the bank with the others to finish the paperwork.  

You sat at the back of the room as the accountant explained the processes and fees.  Luna cooed and babbled, excited by the novelty of being out of the house for the first time in weeks.  At just over seven months of age, she had a few word-like sounds in her lexicon, like ba-ba and da-da, but you were still waiting in eager anticipation for those bona fide first words.  

When the time came to sign the contracts, Will asked for his share of the money to be included in the trust for Redfly’s family.  You don’t know what you were expecting.  Will saw himself as the noble warrior, doing right by his fallen comrade, but still your eyes went dark.  Of course, Benny followed his brother’s lead, signing away his share of the money as well.

You rose from your seat, approaching the table to stand beside Frankie, balancing his child on your hip as you leered down at him.  He pointedly refused to meet your gaze as he crumpled up his set of paperwork before scrawling his name on the family trust documents.  Luna could tell you were upset, pulling at the neck of your dress to try to get to your breasts.  You pried her hands away and she whined loudly in protest.  

“Are you serious right now?” you moved in front of Frankie as he made his way to the door.

“Don’t,” Frankie warned, stepping around you.  

You let him go, returning your attention to Santiago.

“I hope you’re happy,” you said, looking down at him.  “You destroyed our lives.” 

At the end of the table the accountant cleared her throat, as if reminding you of her presence would persuade you to reconsider the awkward exchange.

If Ironhead were there, he would have torn you a new asshole for challenging Pope in front of an outsider.  Whatever disagreement you had with Santiago was pack business.    

“Shame on you,” you snapped.  

You stormed out of the bank, buckling Luna into her carseat in enraged silence.  Frankie started the car and you rode back to the safehouse in the same heavy quiet.  You regretted that Frankie was hurting, but you didn’t worry about him.  He would come around, he always did.  It was Catfish’s nature to blow up then calm down.  Things would return to normal until the next cataclysmic event.  

More pressing was your realization that Santiago was intent on leaving.  Soon.  That was the only reason he would insist on imploding your relationship with Frankie before Redfly was even in the ground.  He wanted it out in the open before he rendezvoused with his human and her millions.  

Parking the car, Frankie tried to come around to take Luna out of the back seat, but you snarled at him, forcing yourself between him and the car door.  He backed down, trudging up to the house after the others without another word.  

“Come here, baby,” you said, unbuckling Luna and lifting her out of her carseat.  “It’s just you and me against the world, isn’t it.”

You felt like your family was falling apart before your eyes. Santiago would leave again, and then what?  Will and Benny would be useless without someone to give the orders.  Frankie would backslide, God forbid relapse.  If Santiago thought he could just implode your family over out of stubborn self-righteousness and disappear back into the desert, he had another thing coming.  

You put one hand on Luna’s head and pressed your nose into her baby-fine hair, soothing yourself with her sweet milk and powder smell. 

In the house, the boys lingered quietly in the front kitchen, as though the gravity of the past weeks had finally set in.  Tom was gone and so was the money.  Sooner or later, in all likelihood, some very bad men were going to come looking for it.  The person you usually counted on to figure these things out was dead and now there was nothing left but to forge ahead without him.        

“Congratulations, boys,” you announced bitterly.  “You should all be very proud of yourselves.”

“We got Lorea,” Santiago said, leaning heavily on one of the kitchen chairs. 

“Of course,” you mocked.  “After years of training, the best shifters in the world managed to achieve their ultimate goal: killing one guy.  And let’s not forget the consolation prize, a measly five million dollars.”

“It’s enough to take care of Tom’s girls,” Benny said.  

“I am so sick of hearing about Tom’s daughters,” you said.  “Hell, even Santiago’s whore got her cut!”  

You paced the room in agitation.

“What about my daughter?  Who’s looking after her future?  Certainly not her deadbeat father—can’t even be trusted to do the one thing he’s good at.”

It was a cruel thing to say, too cruel, and you knew it.  Frankie shook his head, but said nothing.  It wasn’t him you were trying to provoke anyway.  

“You need to remember your place,” Santiago warned you.

“So do you!”

If it were possible, Santiago’s eyes grew darker.  

“Frankie, take the baby,” he said coldly.

Frankie looked between you nervously.  

“Pope, don’t hurt her,” he said. 

You were almost touched; after everything you had said and done, he was worried about you.

“Take the baby,” Santiago ordered, already stripping off his clothes. 

You scoffed, handing Luna over to her father.

“Oh please,” you said, turning to face Santiago, you could feel the pressure building in your head as your eyes flashed amber.  “I’m not afraid of him–two bad knees and a spinal fusion.  Go ahead, if you still have it in you–”  

Pope hit you like a freight train, but with Ginger roiling so close to the surface, you had shifted before you hit the ground.  In truth, it wasn’t much of a fight.  Just enough to keep up appearances.  Everyone already knew how it would end.  You hadn’t given Santiago much choice.  You had openly defied him in front of the pack.  It was either mark you or kill you and Pope wasn’t so cruel as to do that to Frankie and Luna.  

Ginger submitted as Pope’s jaws clamped down on your shoulder, a careful strike, missing the tender vein in your neck by centimeters.  You cried out, shifting back, Pope naked on top of you.  He grabbed you by the hair, dragging you toward the bedroom, the others watching in anxious silence as he slammed the door behind you.

Santiago threw you onto the bed, climbing over you.  You panted hard, struggling to push yourself up.

“Turn over,” he growled, grabbing you by the waist to flip you onto your back. “You’re going to look at me.”

He pinned both your hands over your head with one of his, taking no time at all to stroke himself to hardness with the other.  You shivered in anticipation.

“If you’re going to act like a bitch, I’ll treat you like a bitch.”  

Santiago pressed into you all at once without hesitation or preamble.  Big enough that you felt yourself tear and whimpered at the stab of pain.    

“Is this what you want?” Santiago growled.  “You want me to take you like a fucking whore?”

Santiago placed one hand over your throat, fingertips squeezing with expert precision. He barely withdrew from you, just stabbed deeper in. The pain didn’t last, hormones raging, the need to submit to your alpha overriding every other instinct.  You moaned, back arching, womb clenching with need.

Santiago’s hands began to roam, groping the soft give of your belly, squeezing your thigh hard enough to bruise.  You moved to hold his face–his dark curls plastered to his forehead with exertion–but he caught your hands and pinned them back on the mattress.

“No.”  

He lowered his face to yours, snarling with fangs bared, but all the hostility was out of him now, replaced by hunger, desire, yearning.  He nuzzled against your face, interlacing his fingers with yours as he rutted into you.  The sick squelching of your eager, creaming pussy barely audible over the blood rushing in your ears.  

“Take it,” Santiago growled, head bowed toward your breasts.  “Take it all.  Or I’ll eat you up.”

A lewd sound escaped your lips as he pinched and pulled your nipples to swollen points.  The animalic scent of your combined arousal pierced by creamy sweetness as your breasts began to leak.  

Santiago took your breasts in his hands, squeezing hard, milk spilling between his fingers. 

“Mine,” he proclaimed, the word a barely intelligible snarl.  “These are mine.  You’re mine.”  

You whimpered, squeezing your eyes closed as he sank his teeth into the flesh of your left breast, sealing his mouth over the sensitive nipple, drinking from you as his pelvis ground into the soft pad of your mound, his back arching.  

Santiago was too lost in his own desire to protest as you moved again. Sliding one hand down his back, drawing him toward you as the snug muscles of your inner walls tightened around him with your climax.  As you moaned, he caught your mouth in a harsh, possessive kiss, his lips still tasting of milk and blood. 

Santiago shuddered with his release, the hard pulse of semen filling you up as the head of his cock swelled inside your already impossibly stretched pussy.  You cried out, quivering with relief as spurt after spurt of hot cum surged against the mouth of your womb.  

Santiago relaxed into you as he finally emptied himself inside you.  He had never been like this with you before: forceful, demanding.  But somehow you knew, he had always had it in him.  You felt a sudden pang of gratitude that he had finally let down his guard for you.  

“Thank you, Alpha,” you murmured, combing your fingers through his hair as he rested his head between your breasts.  “Thank you.”

Pope slept for close to an hour as you rested beneath him, enjoying the pleasant surge endorphins. He stirred slowly, his weight shifting over you as he eased himself out from under the covers.  His eyes fell on the dried bloodstains on the sheets twisted between your legs.

“I hurt you,” he said quietly.

You hummed softly, sitting up in bed. 

“I earned it.”

“I shouldn’t have lost my temper,” Santiago said.  

He went to your medkit on the dresser, cracking open an instant ice pack to tuck between your legs.  The cold felt nice against your swollen heat.  

He doused a clean gauze pad in antiseptic wash and brushed the hair away from your neck to blot at the bite mark on your shoulder, although it had long-since stopped bleeding.

“It doesn’t hurt,” you assured him, your eyes cast down in submission.   

“What do you need?”  Santiago fretted, the gravity of what he had done sinking in. 

Not even Redfly had dared to give you a claim mark–a scar that could been a death blow–a sign for all to see that you were alive by his grace alone.  To abandon you after that would be considered a cardinal sin among wolves, and above all else, Santiago needed to see himself as the hero.  

“Water would be lovely,” you cleared your throat.  “Please, Alpha.”  

Santiago poured you a glass from the pitcher on the dresser and waited patiently at the bedside while you drank to take the glass from you when you were finished.  

“What else?” he asked.

“Luna needs to be fed soon,” you said. 

“Of course. I'll bring her to you,” Santiago agreed, sticking his head out the bedroom door where the others were still gathered in your laughably small living area, pretending they hadn’t heard what had just gone on behind closed doors.  

“Fish, Ginger needs to nurse the baby.  I can take her.”

“No, I got it,” Frankie insisted, pushing past Santiago in the doorway with Luna in his arms.  

Santiago arranged the pillows comfortably around you, placing the densest one in your lap to support the baby.  You brought Luna to your breast and she latch eagerly.

“She’s got a good appetite,” Santiago remarked, stroking her little foot.  

“We haven’t had any problems,” you agreed.  “It’s been a blessing.”  

It had been a hard birth–complicated somewhat by your insistence on laboring at home–everything after had seemed like smooth sailing in comparison.  

“Are you hungry?”  Santiago asked.  “I can bring you something.”

“There’s leftover soup in the fridge,” you said.  “It just needs to be heated up.”  

“I’ll get it ready,” Santiago agreed.

As Santiago rushed off, Frankie paced the room anxiously.

“Please try to relax,” you said, supporting Luna with one arm as you beckoned him to you with the other.  “You’re making me nervous.  Just sit down.”  

“Sit down,” he repeated, lifting his cap to tousle his hair before replacing it, slightly off-kilter.  “Where my best friend just fucked the mother of my child?”

“Don’t say it like that,” you said.  “You make it sound obscene.”  

“How do you want me to say it?” Frankie asked.

“Come here,” you pleaded.  “Just come here.”  

Frankie took a careful seat on the bed beside you, placing a hand on Luna’s head as you took his chin in your hand.

“I love you, Francisco,” you said.  “I chose you.  And I chose Pope.  You knew that it was never going to be just one.  It doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

“I know,” Frankie sighed, his large dark eyes wet and shining.  “I just wish you hadn’t done that.”

As much as you assured him that you didn’t care if he took other partners, that you wanted him to explore those parts of himself, Frankie insisted he only wanted you.  You suspected he was still holding out hope that you would marry him one day, but now that hope was marred by knowing he could only have you if Pope allowed it.

“I did what I had to do,” you said.  “He was going to leave us.  I wasn’t going to stand back and let it happen.  I’m sorry you’re upset, but I won’t be held hostage by shitty ultimatums.  I love you.” 

“I know,” Frankie nodded, placing one hand on the back of your neck, bowing his head toward yours.  “I love you, too.”

Santiago returned, a warm bowl in hand, and took a seat on the other side of you to offer you spoonfuls of barley and broth. 

“You’ll have to tell me if it’s warm enough,” he said.  

“It’s good,” you nodded wrapping your lips around the spoon to mask your smile.  “Is there enough for the others?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Santiago assured you.  “You just rest.  I can take the baby for a bit, if you need a break.”

“I’m fine,” Frankie said, leaning into you possessively. 

“Fish,” you warned, touching his face lightly.  “Let Santi help.  You could use a few solid hours of shuteye.  These bags are out of control.” 

“Then it’s settled,” Santiago agreed, setting your dishes aside.  “I will spend some quality time with my beautiful goddaughter and you two will get some sleep.”

Santiago lifted Luna from your arms, her body pliant and relaxed in her milk-drunk state, as he lifted her to his shoulder to rub her back soothingly.  

“Sleep,” Santiago repeated, uncharacteristically light-hearted as he carried Luna from the bedroom, closing the door behind him.  

“You need to undress,” you instructed, reaching for the buttons on Frankie’s shirt.

“It smells like blood,” he protested, reaching to stop your hands.

You pulled him closer, stroking his face and combing your fingers through his hair. Frankie whimpered like a frightened pup, fists balled and muscles taught.    

“It’s fine, Frankie, you’re exhausted.  Just lay down.”

None of the boys had truly recovered from their misadventure, and while Will was still healing from physical wounds, Frankie hadn’t had much opportunity to recover from the psychological trauma between waking up for late-night feedings and diaper changes.  

“Luna is safe.  I am safe.  Relax.”

It took some cajoling, but you finally convinced Frankie to take off his clothes and settle down beside you in bed.  He climbed under the covers and turned onto his side.  Certainly the sheets could use a good wash, but that could wait until after some much-needed sleep.  You rolled over to press your front against his back, hitching your top leg over his hip and drawing him close.  

“This is nice,” you reminded him, slinking an arm around him, resting your hand on his chest.  He entwined his fingers with yours and nodded.  

You breathed slowly, consciously, your breasts pressing into his back and soon you felt his breath grow deeper and more even, the wings of his heart pressing back into you with each rise and fall.

Baby's First Taglist: @hiroikegawa 

[toxicanonymity]

does the new tom fic (so good obsessed with ghost/reader's hallucination frankie taking part) take place in a universe you've thought about or written at all for? or is it just for the triple frontier anniversary? I just ask bc of the line about reader and frankie's implied kinky relationship, which seemed like backstory (one I'd die for if it means frankie tied to a chair)

thank u btw your writing is incredible!!!

Thank you so much! It tickles my heart when people enjoy my Tom fic. I wrote it for the Triple Frontier anniversary and hadn't thought much about the universe, but you're right about the implications. I imagine Frankie would at least get a more comfortable chair than Tom lol. I don't have plans to write more for them, but thank you so much for reading and for the kind words 🖤.

the Worst - Tom "Redfly" Davis x DARK f!reader

[weasleywinchester]

WeasleyWinchester Fic Master List

Hey Fam, I'm tired of having to look for my stuff so I can link chapters to each other so here's a master list

And small overview of my writing: I tend to write long chapters, a good deal of smut and fluff, with the occasional angst because I apparently like to make myself suffer (and I can’t do that alone, so you suffer too). Also 99.9% of my stuff is Female, Plus Size reader insert. If it’s anything else I mention in at the beginning of each story :) (Loki and Sully so far is the only gender neutral ones I have)

*most of these will have multiple chapters that I’m still working on! (I've highlighted them in blue) If you want to be tagged in anything let me know 💙

Supernatural

Dean Winchester

Save Yourself (currently written 19/25)

He Didn’t Dump Me (featuring Crowley)

Sam Winchester

Lock the Damn Door!

Marvel

Bucky Barnes

The Way You Look Tonight Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Baron Helmut Zemo

The Way You Look Tonight Part 2

Loki

Can I keep Him?

Steven Grant/ Marc Spector

Any Way You Want It

Triple Frontier

Franki

You & Me - Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 Where the Rivers Meet

Santi

How Did You Know My Ass Would Need Saving?

Tom

Unless I'm Allowed Dessert

Star Wars

Din Dijarin

A Different Kind of Bounty (smut)

Strangers - Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3

Ladies, Please (feat. Fennec & Boba)

Cassian Andor

It's A Low Number

Hot Blood (love is gunna get ya) - sex pollen

Poe Dameron

Don’t Tell Anyone! Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

The Last Of Us

Joel Miller

I Can’t Help Myself - Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Malicious Mean and Scary? - smut

Top Gun

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Slow Motion - Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch.4 | Ch.5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9

I Ain't Worried - Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3

Robert "BOB" Floyd

I Ain't Worried - Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3

Jake "Hangman" Seresin

I Ain't Worried - Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3

Stranger Things

Eddie Munson

Highway to Hell(fire) - Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5

Sherlock

Greg Lestrade

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2

We Can Be Hero's

Marcus Moreno

Not A Shrine

Winx

Saul Silva

Begin Again - Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3

Uncharted

Sully

I Got You Baby

[playbucky]

Zulu

Requested by Anon - Ahhhh I saw that your requests were open for Triple Frontier?! Could I please request something with Redfly? I'm down for anything except for any pregnancy stuff. Thank you! Characters – Tom x Reader, Benny, Catfish, Ironhead, Pope. Word Count – 1464

‘Can we get discounts for being your best friends?’ You asked as you and Pope smiled as Tom turned around. ‘You can, he can’t.’ He said motioning to you, you raised your arms victoriously before hitting Pope’s shoulder. ‘How you been?’ Tom asked as he wrapped Pope in a hug.

‘Aren’t you divorced?’ Pope questioned, as they pulled up at the house. ‘Yeah.’ He said, pressing the button of the garage door to open. ‘And she allows you in the house?’ You asked, as you leaned through the middle of the two front seats. ‘The garage.’ He corrected you, you and Pope both oh’d as he got out and Tess came out her earphones in. She climbed into the back of the seat and didn’t look up as she fastened her seat belt. ‘What? No hello anymore?’ You asked, she looked up and smiled, removing her earphones, just as Tom got back into the car. ‘What are you doing here?’ She asked, shocked to see you. ‘Meeting with the team.’ You told her, her eyes flickered to Pope in the front, giving him a small smile. ‘You know I never see you out of clothes like these.’ Tess commented and you laughed, as you looked at the camouflage trouser, worn down combat boots and tightly down French plaits. ‘What can I say? It’s comfy.’ You said with a shrug of the shoulders before you fell into silence and she went back to her phone.

‘You’re going on another mission.’ She said, as Pope and Tom got out the jeep and walked over to the gas station. ‘We are.’ You told her truthfully, she frowned. ‘Is dad going?’ She asked, you shrugged your shoulders. ‘Only if he wants to.’ You said as you turned to her. ‘He will,’ she said. ‘If you going.’ She commented quieter. You frowned and shook your head, before reaching over and placing a comforting hand on her knee. ‘Well then, if he goes because of me. I promise I’ll bring him back.’ You told her ‘In one piece?’ ‘Maybe a few bumps, but in one piece.’ You said,  ‘I promise.’ You said, holding your pinkie out, and she wrapped her one around yours and nodded accepting it. Tom and Pope got into the car, and he looked at you through the rear-view mirror before starting the car.

The loud pop echoed through the stones as you, landed face down the pain sharp in the centre of you back. Then the team fired back and got him. ‘Redfly?’ Benny shouted, when they got no response you heard their footsteps coming closer. You rolled over into your back on the stones, groaning. ‘Zulu?’ Catfish shouted, you raised your arm and gave them a thumbs up. ‘We’re good.’ You shouted as you sat up, before getting on your knees and stood up. ‘You got hit.’ Ironhead said, you nodded looking down to Redfly who was supporting doll eyes, wide with fear. ‘My vest got it.’ You shouted up. ‘Move.’ You said, as you were leant over him. He looked up at you as the French plaits you were wearing were slowly coming undone. You got up, the pain from the bullet was dulling slightly, as you offered your hand to him, he accepted it with wide eyes before you yanked him up. ‘I promised you daughter I’d bring you home in one piece.’ You said, shoving him, the pain spreading across your back as you moved.

‘Here let me help.’ Tom said to you, you dropped your arms and nodded. He entered the make shift room on the boat, his hands clutched the bottom of the vest and slowly lifted it up. You bit your lips as you lifted your arms out the holes. Tom placed the vest on a surface as you let out a sigh of relief, a hand coming up and cupping your ribs. ‘Let me see it.’ Tom said, you dropped your arms and he lifted up the top until it was on top of your shoulders. The cold draft caught your skin and brung out goose bumps. Tom looked at the bruise, the red centre was surrounded by purples and blues expanding out from your spine. Tom reached forward, his fingers touching it causing you to tense your back up. ‘Sorry.’ He apologised moving his hand away. ‘It’s fine.’ You said, wriggling the shoulders your shirt fell down. ‘No, I’m sorry.’ He said, you looked at him shaking your head. ‘It’s not your fault.’ You said, as you walked over the room, your boots heavy on the wood. ‘You took a bullet for me, how is it not my fault?’ He asked. ‘Look, would you rather the bullet be in the centre of your head?’ You asked him, poking the centre of his head. He watched you, before lowering his hands to your hips as he lowered his head, resting it against yours.

‘Ow.’ You said as Tess hugged you tightly. ‘What?’ She asked as she pulled back quickly. ‘It’s nothing?’ You said dismissively, then the footsteps sounded. ‘She got shot.’ Tom said, you glared at him. ‘You what?’ She asked shocked, her eyes scanning over you for any injuries. ‘It hit my vest, I’m fine.’ You told her, she looked at you cautiously as you sat down carefully on the couch. Tom walked past the pair of you before heading into the kitchen. ‘Hold this between her shoulders.’ Tom said to Tess handing her a towel presumably full of ice, you shook your head but then she pressed the cool ice on it, you tensed before relaxing as the cold helped it. You let out a sigh closing your eyes. ‘You brought him back.’ She said, you raised both your eyebrows ad nodded. ‘I promised you, didn’t I?’ You asked, cracking an eye open. She smiled and nodded. ‘You know he likes you.’ She said, you didn’t open your eyes just hummed. ‘You know?’ ‘Have you done anything about it?’ She questioned you, you opened your eyes with a raised eyebrow. ‘When did you become a specialist in relationships?’ You asked her, chuckling slightly but the pain up your back made you wince. ‘I’m not, but-‘ She trailed off, you sighed and turned to her. Removing the ice from your back, playing with the cold towel. ‘We both like each other, but we haven’t done anything.’ You told her truthfully, her eyebrows furrowed together. ‘Why?’ She asked, you shrugged your shoulders lightly. ‘The job we do.’ You told her, as you moved back leaning against the soft fabric of the couch. ‘Well if I heard correctly in the car, is that was the last one. You got enough money to retire.’ She said shyly, you looked at her with narrowed eyes. ‘You were listening the whole time.’ You said and watched as a light layer of pink spread across her cheeks. ‘Of course.’ She said proudly. ‘I would say I’m proud of you, but I think Tom might here.’ You said, she giggled and nodded as she leaned against the back of the couch, both of you talking about the TV shows you had missed, and whoever she was daydreaming over now.

‘Tess made a point today.’ Tom said as he got out the car and shut the door behind you. ‘You were listening to our conversation?’ You asked, he shrugged his shoulders. ‘What point?’ You asked. ‘We’re retried now.’ He said, you chuckled as you shook your head at him. You stopped at the bottom of your stairs as you turned around to him, he was looking at you as he continued to walk over to you. He reached up and  ‘That means I can do this.’ He said, dipping his head down and capturing your lips with his ones. You both smiled into the kiss, your hands made their way up to his neck, pulling on the small hairs at the base of his neck as he backed you up until you were pressed against the wall, you back arched into his as the bruise hit the wall, you pulled away and he followed you. ‘Now, I’m going to stop you there.’ You said as he groaned, your hands slid from his neck up to his cheeks as you rubbed your thumb across them. ‘If your up for lying on my bed and binge-watching TV shows your welcome to come in.’ You offered him. ‘If there is anything else in that brain of yours, get it out.’ You watched as he frowned. ‘I’m too sore for anything tonight and too tired.’ You told him, he smiled at you before he bent down, lifting you up and your hands wrapped around his neck as he carried you bridal style up the stair and into your house. ‘I can do that.’ He said.

Tags - @headsindreams