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sofiiel · 1 year

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There & Back Again | Ch.18

Start of a Web

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Myrtle sat in her car staring at the ticket in her hands, outside of her house. "How'd I get talked into this." she asked herself, shaking her head. "He's got a face that'd make you square off with a devil and a voice that could lure you right off a cliff if he called." Myrtle's mind told her. "And you're hopeless." Myrtle sighed, sinking into her car seat, holding the ticket to her chest.

"Pittsburgh." she mumbled, scrunching up her nose. And laughed at herself, "Pittsburgh....with Eddie Munson, who you never knew existed really..." Myrtle sighed again. "But he didn't know you did either." she uttered.

"Wait til I tell Robin, she's gonna freak out." Myrtle thought, finally heading inside. No matter how strange the night was, no matter how strange they'd been the last couple of days. The people she'd spent them with made them the highlight of her year. Somehow it made everything waiting behind her front door less frightening.

"Why are you trying to infiltrate my life?" Patrick asked, hearing Myrtle enter the house. "E-excuse me?" Myrtle asked, taken by surprise as her brother rushed towards her with angry eyes. "I'm not... I don't understand." Myrtle said.

"Jason called, he says you spent the day with Chrissy, Chrissy Cunningham. His girlfriend!" Patrick raged. Myrtle side glanced, she didn't want to lie to Patrick, and she certainly didn't want to while he was so upset. "Pat, she just wants me to give her some ballet pointers to up her cheer game." Myrtle said.

"Stop trying to sound cool! Stop trying to leech off of me!" Patrick shouted. "I'm not, I was using her words. Wait...leeching?" Myrtle asked. "Yes, my parents, my life, and my friends. Clawing your way to make things better for yourself." Patrick ranted.

Myrtle shook her head, "I wouldn't, Pat - Look, I won't say a word to Chrissy ever again if that helps." Myrtle spoke with quick words. "No, cause then she'll ask why, and Jason will tell her things and she'll tell him not to hang out with me anymore or worse kick me off the team." Patrick said.

"Chrissy wouldn't do that...she's nice. I-" Myrtle took a deep breath, "I wasn't at Chrissy's, I went to The Hideout." Myrtle confessed, peering up at her brother, eyes pleading to be believed. But instead, he started to laugh, it was a bitter sound. "Right, so now you're a freak on top of being lame? Do you know what they do there? Get high and torture cats." Patrick said.

Myrtle scowled, "they do not!" she called. "They listen to music...and drink…a little. But that's it. It's no different from you hiding out in Benny's old place and seeking beers with Jason and Steve!" Myrtle raged back. She covered her mouth once she'd realized her voice had raised.

"What, afraid dad will hear you? About who you really are?" Patrick snickered. "It's not who I am. I was there to see friends." Myrtle muttered. "Sure," Patrick scoffed, "they aren't here anyway... Pastor Alvin's in the hospital, got mauled or something." Patrick muttered before heading off into the kitchen.

Myrtle headed up the stairs, her mind buzzing with too many thoughts. "Just feed Shelob and go to bed." she sighed.

Eddie let the water run over his body as he stood in the shower, he couldn't stop smiling to himself. "She came to your show, she liked it, and now we're all off to a concert in Pittsburgh." Eddie thought to himself, even alone, the goofy grin he knew was on his face was almost too much to bear. "You'll make yourself sick at this rate." he told himself, "not that you actually care." he thought.

As Eddie replayed the night over in his head, he could recall how mad, Angel had made him, and then he remembered...

Eddie eyed his jeans on the bathroom floor, he could see a silver chain coming out of the pocket. He heaved a sigh. And behind closed eyes he could see a beautiful smile and eyes as dark as his own, if not darker. "Happy birthday Eddie." A voice called to him, always teetering on the edge of teasing.

"You're three days late," Eddie could remember himself sulking. "Yeah, well, I hand-made it. It was Petey's idea. You know." Her voice echoed through Eddie's memory. "Then I hate it." Eddie murmured. "Impossible," she said through his memory.

"Your favorite person spent hours making it...come on. Your face is twice as gloomy as the weather," she said.

Eddie opened his eyes and gazed at the chain. "He won't let me let you go," Eddie murmured. "He's taunting me." He sighed, letting the soap rinse from his hair, Eddie held his head under the gently rushing water. "I'm not trying to forget, I just....let me at least move forward. Please." Eddie uttered quietly. "I swear, you'd like her. Then again, maybe that's the problem. If you would - so would he." Eddie thought.

Turning off the water, Eddie finished his shower and collected his clothes. Towel tied around his hips, he headed for his room, shutting the door behind him.

Once inside, Eddie kissed his finger and pressed it to his guitar, "Goodnight, Sweetheart. Thanks for tonight, even if you didn't want it....you came through for me." He murmured. Into his pajamas and settled in bed, Eddie watched the ceiling. His mind replaying the way those deep gunmetal gray eyes watched him from the crowd. How he lured her back in with his music, and his heart skipped a beat.

Eddie lightly touched his lips, "right, just getting rid of Angel cooties." he muttered to himself.

At Hawkins lab, Amy carefully slipped around corners and dodged into unlocked rooms. "It doesn't seem too unordinary here." she thought to herself, but still, there was a feeling lingering in the air.

"Then again that's what they'd want people to think isn't it?" Amy questioned herself. Sorting her way down the endless maze of halls, Amy finally came to a strange elevator. It wasn't anything like the other elevators she'd passed. This one was thick and of white metal.

"Bingo" Amy whispered with a pleased smile, but one problem presented itself. "No buttons," she thought, feeling along the wall next to the large door.

Myrtle lay in bed, after what happened to the lights in The Hideout, she felt the urge to turn off every light in her room. There she lingered in the dark, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't fight the jitters that had taken over her body. The thrill of the night had worn off, and the finer details buzzed about in her mind.

Able to think more clearly, Myrtle couldn't stop replaying how it felt with that strange pressure that had taken over her.

Raising her hands, she examined her fingertips, half convinced they'd be glowing once more. Myrtle felt at her eyes, then her temples, and finally her lip. "He shocked me somehow…or-"

Myrtle recalled Angel falling back onto the floor, the impact far too hard to have been from a punch to the gut. "Eddie wasn't facing the direction Angel fell, either." Myrtle pondered. "And after the terrible feeling was gone, as if -" Myrtle stroked her bottom lip, "he took it away, took it in" she whispered.

"But what is it?" Myrtle's mind asked her.

The floor lamp flipped on, filling Myrtle's room with a warm, dim light. The soft yellow reminded Myrtle of the orange hue her vision took on. But before the memory could settle, the light started to flicker. "He thinks he is rebelling, and yet he has led you further on the path to home." a deep voice echoed.

"Please," Myrtle thought, shutting her eyes tight. "Who are you?" she asked it.

"I am you, a tiny speck of you that is the strongest part of your make-up. I am your venom and that world is not where you live, it is but an egg sack until you are ready to become who you are." the voice said.

"E-egg sack?" Myrtle stammered. "You're the only one who will survive once you let the wind take you away, and you will make your home here, Spiders like dark secluded places." as the voice spoke it held a fondness in its tone.

"I will not have to show you how to survive it will come to you, and you will help me change and shape the world." it said.

"I've lost it." Myrtle exhaled.

"No, you're merely sleeping, Myrtle. You will wake up in time." It lulled.

Myrtle blinked slowly and found sunlight pouring into her room. "I lost time." She murmured, mild panic setting in as she frantically felt around at her bedding. "Still in my room, still in my bed." Myrtle exhaled. "I didn't wander," she whispered.

Angel paced about in the woods, his hands latched into his hair, his arms shaking with the tremble of pain. "Stop it." He murmured, "I'm not coming back. I'm not." He uttered. Back and forth, and back again, he paced until he wore a line in the dirt.

Fingers locked tight in his hair, almost tangled, anything to stop himself from clawing. Blood trickled from raw flesh at the base of his neck, and gnaw marks marred his wrist. "You are not my father, and I am not him. It's lies, lies, all of it. I am - I am Pete." Angel murmured.

"Only one thing quells the pain" a quiet rumbling voice faded into Angel's memory.

Angel exhaled slowly, trying to steady his shaking breaths, "No," Angel laughed, his voice strained with pain. Pulling out a pocket knife, he held it to his own neck, near the bleeding. "I can remove it." He said. "It's not the old model, you remove it, it explodes, and you will find the hell you claim to welcome." The voice said to him.

Angel's hand trembled, "I do not fear death." Angel snarled. "No, you fear leaving without a legacy." said the voice.

Angel closed his eyes and clenched his fists as if to control a building rage. "You have a target," said the voice. "Worthy prey." it tempted. And a vision entered Angel's mind. He could see a girl navigating familiar hallways. Angel grimaced, "she's one of us." Angel murmured. "She is one who will not survive." the voice warned.

"You take what you need from here to keep going." It said. Angel heaved a sigh. "To hell with you, I'd rather wither than be a simple crawling pawn." Angel raged, turning his back on the wooded path towards Hawkins Lab and heading back home.

In a cabin near Lover's Lake, a smoke detector blared. "Damn it! Not the chimichanga!" A man cried out in anger. "Stupid oven needed to be replaced ages ago." He muttered, giving his stove a kick.

"What are you burning to the ground now, old man?" Angel asked as he entered the home, dropping his guitar and backpack onto the sofa. "Dinner, you little brat." The man called. Angel smirked and made his way to the kitchen, fanning his hand at the gathering smoke.

"Rick, Rick, Rick, haven't learned by now that you have the cooking skills of a rock." Angel mused with a lazy smile as he headed for the fridge. Reaching inside, he pulled out a cola and started to chug it. "Hey, you be grateful, you'd go hungry without me." Rick said, pointing at Angel with his oven mitt.

Angel twirled his index finger around in a circle, "reverse that, You'd starve without me." He hummed, looking back at the middle-aged man in the tourist shirt. Rick grimaced, but then released a small chuckle, "yeah, why do you think I'm in here burning chimichangas? You forgot to leave leftovers." Rick confessed.

"You really need to stop smoking the merchandise, old man." Angel sighed, shaking his head. Tossing his cola can in the trash, Angel made his way to the spare room.

Rick followed Angel a few paces and leaned out the kitchen, "Heads up! Eddie will be by to pick up his next stock from me today!" Rick called out. "I don't care, Rick. I'll be sleep anyway." Angel called, slamming the door.

Myrtle sat in the living room of Ms. Hargrove's home, a cute little white house on a slight grassy hill surrounded by trees. The living room was modest but comfortable. "I've been through all your references, and it seems everybody has glowing things to say about you." Mr. Hargrove said with a pleased smile.

"And you listed here that you've been through CPR training?" She asked Myrtle. "Um, yes, mandatory for lifeguard duty. Unfortunately, everybody and their brother applied for that job in the summer, so I wasn't one of the fortunate ones to get hired last year." Myrtle explained.

Ms. Hargrove gave a smile, "My stepson Billy was a lifeguard last year back in California," She leaned forward as if sharing a secret, "He hates it but likes to look at all the pretty girls." she giggled.

Myrtle simply smiled as a worry crossed the woman's face briefly. "Speaking of which," she said, clearing her throat and sitting up straight. "Billy isn't a bad kid, but...he's angry often and likes to test people." She started.

"You're warning me that he's going to give me a hard time?" Myrtle asked. Ms. Hargrove gave a nod. "He's a jerk, he tests everybody, and he is always picking on me. He's broken my board twice in a month." Max chimed, entering the room with a box of Hi-C and a pear.

Ms. Hargrove smiled as Max plopped herself down next to Myrtle.

"He's not normal," Max said, looking up at Myrtle. "I know a thing or two about brothers. Mine is angry all the time too. He can be mean, It's not because that's who he is inside." Myrtle said, turning her gaze to Ms. Hargrove. "Some folks don't handle change well." Myrtle murmured, her conversation with her brother cutting a fresh new memory in her mind.

"Max would be my main concern, I am sure I can defuse Billy," Myrtle said, offering a reassuring smile. Max looked between Myrtle and her mother expectantly. Ms. Hargrove laughed quietly at Max, "Then I think all that's left to talk about is your pay and then... how soon can you start?" Ms. Hargrove asked. "Yes! This will be great!" Max cheered. Myrtle giggled, but if she was honest, she thought Max's mother was worrying too much. For the little time she'd known her, Max was perfectly capable of caring for herself during the day.

Myrtle side glanced, "unless it's the brother that's the real problem." she thought to herself.

"Billy won't be joining us until the end of the summer, taking his time to say goodbye to friends before he starts the school year up again." Ms. Hargrove explained almost reading Myrtle's thoughts.

On her way back home, Myrtle found herself quietly humming one of Corroded Coffin's songs and amused herself. "I bet Eddie and the guys would be really surprised if I had a few shirts made." Myrtle thought.

"Holy shit, where are we now?" Amy thought to herself, lurking deep within the Hawkins Lab, "it must be between shifts." she thought, as there were far fewer people to have to dodge now. Everything around her felt pristine and there was a stake metallic scent in the air, something like chemicals.

"And there have been no more surges?" Amy heard hushed voices coming from one of the rooms. It was protected by a thick metal door with a thin window at the top. "No, Dr. Owens. This last one is the first and last, it seems. We're trying our best to track it, but there seems to be interference." a mousy voice stammered.

"Interference?" The first voice, Owen's asked. Amy pressed her ear to the door, "We've seen their agents in town, We need to find whoever he or she may be before they do." Owens said quietly. "You share these findings with no one, I do not tell you, do you hear me?" He asked.

"Yes, Dr. Owens." chimed the mousy voice. "Serge? Agents?" Amy's thoughts questioned. Her stomach dropped, "shit..." she thought memories of Myrtle talking about a strange vehicle trailing her around town chattered in the back of her mind.

"And any sign of the boy?" asked Owens. "No, he's hiding himself well. But it's been well over seven years." said the other voice. "He reached out once, that couldn't have been for nothing." Owens murmured. "We lost two more kids that day," the other voice said hopelessly. "Was that reaching out or.... Brenner says that-" the voice was cut off and a heavy silence lingered.

"Must have touched a nerve." Amy thought, "but they mentioned kids. Are they working with Loxion after all?" Amy questioned. Slowly backing away from the door, "there is so much more I could find out here, but..." Amy turned to look back down the path she came. She couldn't shake a nagging feeling in her core, and all she could picture of Myrtle's face.

"I need to check on her and tell her what I've heard. Maybe her father has mentioned something about the plant or something." Amy murmured quietly, closing her eyes, she pictured the outside of the Lab and phased out.

Deborah and Callahan arrived at The Hideout, stepping over trash left from the night before. Empty beer and soda cans littered the ground. "Wow, must have been some power surge." Callahan said as his shoes crunched on the broken glass beneath the streetlamps outside the old building.

Deborah silently walked to the windows of The Hideout and peered inside, her eyes scanning over the interior. Glasses sat broken on the bar top and hanging behind the bar. The stage was covered in colorful shards of glass from the busted lights.

"You sure a power sure did all this?" Deborah asked skeptically.

"Yeah, the power plant called it in last night." Callahan said holding the front door open for Deborah. As soon as her foot stepped through the door, a metallic crunch echoed. Deborah raised her foot, "somebody is gonna be mad later on." Callahan hummed, looking down at the pair of glasses. "You broke them." he pointed out.

Deborah turned her eyes upward and shook her head, "No, Callahan.... I don't think I did." She exhaled, nodding towards the open floor where tens of glasses were left abandoned, all broken.

"What the hell?" Callahan questioned, going to investigate, Deborah not far behind him. "You think it's some new weird party trend?" He asked. Deborah threw him an arid glare. "Breaking glasses?" He questioned. Callahan shrugged, "this kinda crowd of teens are strange alright." He said. "Yeah, I bet the same was said about you." Deborah murmured, walking towards the stage.

"Mind still stuck on the case of the deformed strays? They've not been seen in a while." Callahan said. "Hoppers working on leads. In the meantime, there's nothing that can be done. The killing of local pets has stopped, and Pastor Alvin seems to have been the only human victim, so...." Deborah spoke as if trying to convince herself, but she still saw the monsters even in her sleep.

"Have you called the McKinney and Munson family? Have they seen or heard anything?" Callahan asked. "Wayne Munson spoke for his nephew. Says he hasn't seen anything odd. The boy is almost never home." Deborah heaved a heavy sigh, "and I can't get past Myrtle McKinney's father. The man's like talking to a wall or a phone recording. Anything to get off the phone fast." she murmured.

"Well, let it go, and don't let it bother you too much, we've got bigger problems. Rumor has it Reefer Rick is back in town." said Callahan, Deborah made a face, "seriously? There are deformed wild dogs in town and you're worried about Reefer Rick?" Deborah questioned through narrow eyes.

"It's a big problem, they guys selling to our kids." Callahan reasoned. Deborah shook her head and threw her arm out towards the bar, "yeah, you're really going to argue that one while we're standing in the middle of an unlicensed bar that doesn't check for age ID?" She shot at him. "This is harmless, a little booze never hurt anyone. They cut them off before they get drunk. Drugs mess with a brain in bad ways" Callahan replied.

Deborah gave him a flat gaze, "yeah? I smoke the shit all through law school. And finished top of my class." She hummed. "Yeah? Then why are you a cop?" Callahan shot back. "Have you tried being a Lawyer? Kills you faster." Deborah grumbled. "And I'm looking for someone..." she added quietly.

Myrtle grinned ear to ear as she left the printing shop, "I hope that quick mock-up was enough." she thought. Heading for her car, she spotted Amy, twigs and leaves caught in her hair as she rushed towards her, nearly frantic. "Myrtle..." she called. "Holy crap, Amy, what have you been doing?" Myrtle asked. "Snooping, I got into the Lab, I thought it had shut down, but it's back up and running." Amy said, speaking quickly.

"I'm not surprised my dad says it has up and down moments. Hawkins is a small town, it's hard for them to keep two energy-based plants up and running." Myrtle said.

Amy scowled, "I think it's more than that, that place feels wrong, Myrtle." she said. Walking closer to Myrtle, she started to whisper, "I heard the employees talking. They're tracking some weird power surge that happened last night." Amy relayed quietly. Flashes of memory of her experiences last night gave Myrtle phantom sensations in her head.

Lightly, Myrtle laid her fingers on her forehead. Amy glanced up at her, "why are you doing that?" Amy asked. "Did," she stepped forward, "did something happen last night?" Amy asked. Myrtle took Amy's hand and rushed to her car, "get inside, and I'll tell you" she said.

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#eddie munson x original character #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x oc #This story is not Arachnophobia friendly #longfic #EpicLength #Eddie Munson/Original Female Character(s)#eddie munson x black!oc #eddie munson x fem!oc #eddie munson tolkien fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #18+ minors dni #stranger things 010

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letmebegaytodd · 3 years

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#benny could be hiding in your snickers #the khans too- hi jessup and mcmurphy #benny #fnv #fallout

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say-al0e · 2 years

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Round and Round

Rating: PG-13

Summary: You’re familiar with the routine of patching Benny up after a fight but it’s his turn to take care of you. When he finds you in the ER, however, he’s met with a confession he never thought he’d hear and you’re met with a reality that you aren’t sure you’re ready to face. | Friends-to-lovers with a dash of pining and idiots-to-lovers.

Warnings: Minor injuries, dumbasses who can’t communicate properly, inaccurate medical knowledge/hospital experience, pain medication usage, mildly inaccurate roller derby experience, swearing.

Pairing: Benny x fem!Reader

Word Count: 9.4k (on dot! also, sorry, I black out when I write for Benny)

Masterlist | Taglist

The noise of the makeshift locker room - really, a bathroom with a bench placed in the middle of the room and a row of lockers stuffed into a corner - filled your ears as you stepped inside. A few of your teammates, already dressed and rolling around the linoleum in their skates, greeted you when you passed them but none paid you much attention until you made it to your locker and pulled it open.

At the sight of the pictures lining the inside of the door - most of them were team photos, taken after matches, but the rest included a tall blonde that inevitably drew attention - a few of your teammates snickered. The only one to say anything, however, was your team captain Shana.

“So, when are you going to admit that you’re in love with him?”

The noise surrounding you quieted as Shana rolled across the room and stopped in front of you. She was already dressed for the match, helmet emblazoned with a bright pink ‘C’ atop her head, and easily commanded the attention of the room as she leaned against the wall to wait for your answer.

When you glanced over your shoulder, you immediately noticed several sets of eyes - all amused at the recurring conversation - turned to you. You rolled your eyes as you tugged your pads from your locker and quickly shut the door to hide the photos from prying eyes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You felt heat rising to your cheeks at the question but did your best to keep your expression neutral, voice monotone, as you took a seat on the bench and began toeing off your sneakers. You spared Shana a quick glance out of the corner of your eye but otherwise kept your attention on your shoes as you feigned ignorance and asked, “In love with who?”

You knew; everyone in the locker room knew. But that didn’t stop you from hoping this time, she’d drop the subject.

However, Shana was not one to be deterred from discussing what had quickly become her favorite topic. She closed the short distance easily and plucked your cell phone from the bench beside you. She rolled far enough out of your reach with a bright grin and tapped the screen, only to crow delightedly over the photo that appeared.

It was simple, one Frankie’s wife had taken of you and Benny after his last fight - him grinning and shirtless, hair dark with sweat and knuckles still wrapped, with you tucked beneath his arm wearing an equally bright grin - but it was a photo you adored. In that moment, however, it prompted an exaggerated huff as you tugged on your knee pads.

“When’s it going in your locker?” Jen grinned brightly as she rolled over and tapped the screen herself to get a better look at the photo. She cooed at the image, brought her hand to her chest in an exaggerated swoon, and laughed when you exhaled heavily. “It’s been a while since you updated the collage and this one’s cute! Has he gotten better? He doesn’t look so beat up here.” She tilted her head to get a better look at the lack of bruises decorating Benny’s skin and hummed, impressed by his apparent improvement.

“It’s not.”

You rolled your eyes as you shoved your feet into your skates, attention focused on the laces as you avoided the knowing looks your teammates were giving you. You could feel their eyes burning against your skin, could hear their snickers as they anticipated the rest of the conversation, but you pointedly kept your eyes on your skates as you confirmed, “He has gotten better. He’s started taking training more seriously. He’s won all of his fights over the last few months and he’s going to the semi-finals next month.” Louder laughter bubbled then, your teammates openly giggling at your gushing update on Benny’s career, but you only sighed as you lifted your head and glanced at Shana and Jen. “And Benny’s still just a friend.” It was a line that you were used to spouting, one that rolled off your tongue with practiced ease, but none of your teammates believed it.

You weren’t sure you ever believed it.

Somehow, your relationship with Benny - or lack thereof - had become a recurring topic of conversation in the locker room before matches. You weren’t sure when, or why, but you and Benny had managed to capture their attention. Every time the girls caught a glimpse of the photos decorating your locker or, more often, Benny himself in the crowd, they shot you knowing looks as they questioned when the pair of you were going to admit that you were in love.

You scoffed at their questions every time, adamantly denying that you and Benny were anything more than friends, but they could all see through you.

They saw the near reflexive smile that lifted the corners of your mouth when Benny’s name appeared in your notifications, wishing you luck on a match he wasn’t able to attend. They saw the way you were drawn to one another, gravitating to his side as if some unknown force made it impossible for you to separate. They saw the way you pushed yourself harder, aimed to be better, when he was in the crowd. They saw the way that you looked for him, eyes scanning the crowd just for a glimpse at his face when you first stepped onto the track. They saw the pride in your eyes, the sheer elation, when he cheered your name so loud that it drew the attention of everyone else in the room.

They saw the little things, the not-so-important moments that added up to a love that had been building over the course of your friendship, and you wanted to hate how observant they were.

You always wondered, if it was this easy for them to see right through you, how long had the most observant men in your life known?

The guys teased you when you first became friends with Benny. They cracked jokes about the pair of you, wondered how long it would be until one of you cracked and confessed that there was more than friendship going on, but the longer you remained in Benny’s life, the quieter their teasing grew. For a long while, you thought that it was because they realized nothing was happening and grew tired of your increasingly disinterested responses.

Recently, you couldn’t help but wonder if they’d noticed your assumedly unrequited feelings for their friend and dropped the act in an effort to spare you the embarrassment of hearing Benny remind them that you were just friends. Again.

He was never mean about it - you didn’t think Benny could be mean to, or about, you - but there was always the same look on his face when he corrected them. His words were usually light, teasing, but there was a set to his jaw, a glint to his eye, that you only saw when he cut his eyes at whoever made the joke and you’d grown to hate it.

It made your chest ache and your skin burn with an embarrassment you’d never known before thinking there was any way Ben Miller could possibly love you back.

Shana, who could read you almost as well as Benny, sighed as your expression slipped from passive to pensive. You saw her nudge Jen away out of the corner of your eye and braced yourself for a pep talk that you’d heard more times than you could count and, despite coming from a good place, only served to send you deeper into a spiral of self-doubt and humiliation.

She took a seat on the bench beside you and leaned in, nudging your shoulder with hers. “You know, you should really talk to him.” She kept her voice quiet, careful to keep the other girls from overhearing as the last of your teammates trickled into the locker room. “I know you think we’re all full of shit but it really is obvious to everyone but you. He’s just as in love with you as you are with him.

You wanted to believe her. You wanted nothing more than to take her words as truth and happily believe that Benny loved you just as you loved him, but you couldn’t. You knew him better than they did, knew him well enough to know that it was purely fantasy, so you heaved a heavy sigh and shook your head.

“Shana.” She made a noise of acknowledgement as she passed you your helmet before reaching for the stick of grease paint she’d used to write her number on her arm. “Look, I know you guys mean well but Benny’s not into me like that. He doesn’t…” You trailed off, paused in search of the right words to adequately describe your understanding of Benny’s romantic stylings, before shaking your head. “Benny’s not the kind of guy that waits. If he wants someone, he goes for it. He’s about as subtle as a bat to the head. We’ve been friends for nearly two years. If he hasn’t made a move by now, he’s not going to.”

Shana made a sympathetic noise as she scribbled your number on your arm. “Maybe he’s just waiting for the right time,” she suggested with a thoughtful frown. “Or maybe he’s afraid of the same thing you are; rejection.”

“I don’t think Benny’s ever been rejected.” It was meant to be teasing, playful, but you could hear the acidity in your tone as you reached for your elbow pads. “Besides, he could have anyone he wanted. Why would he want me?”

Before Shana could either sympathetically ply you with reasons Benny would want you or, more likely, chide you for being so self-pitying, a whistle cut through the din of the locker room. You both looked to Jen who, when Shana made eye contact, nodded toward the track. You sighed, grateful for the interruption, and pushed yourself up and forward without sparing Shana a second glance.

Shana easily passed you by, fixing you with a look that promised a return to the topic at hand later, and joined Jen at the front of the group. You all rolled onto the track, your teammates quietly strategizing and laughing as they made plans to get drinks afterward, while you dwelled on the conversation you’d had.

You knew that Shana meant well, all of your teammates did, but it was beginning to grate on your nerves. You’d joined roller derby for the outlet, a place to release your frustrations and enjoy making new friends, but it was quickly becoming the most dreaded part of your week.

When you and Benny first became friends, you’d been able to brush off your crush as just that; a mild inconvenience, something annoying that would disappear with time. But the longer you remained friends, the harder you fell. You’d been fine, able to swallow the feelings and pretend that they were nothing more than platonic adoration for a man that deserved nothing less, until you joined roller derby.

Your teammates were as observant as the guys but had far less tact. They called it like they saw it, regardless of your denial, and had forced you to come to terms with the devastating realization that you were, in fact, in love with Ben Miller. With that realization came the good - an understanding of your emotions and an ability to process them - as well as the bad - a second, more painful realization that there was no possible way Benny could return your feelings.

And after so many attempts to vocalize that realization, you simply stopped. You offered half-hearted denials and forced laughter but all you really wanted was for them to stop reminding you of what you believed you’d never have.

As your thoughts lingered on Benny, on how to continue on without destroying yourself in the process, you grew vaguely aware of the shrill sound of a whistle being blown. Your body moved on autopilot, letting the adrenaline and rush of excitement that came with the start of any match propel you forward, as you tried to rein yourself in.

You knew that it was a mistake, letting yourself get so distracted on the track, but you’d been dwelling on the topic of your relationship with Benny for so long that it seemed nearly impossible to let it go now. You hoped, feared, that by reminding yourself of Benny’s penchant for impulsivity, you could rid yourself of the crushing weight of your unrequited love.

If he wanted you, he would’ve said something by now.

You repeated that like a mantra, over and over again until it was all that rattled around in your brain, as you rolled around the track. You knew that your teammates would question your performance later - you were anything but at the top of your form - but that was only a fleeting thought as you rounded the track once more.

Nothing seemed to break you free from your stupor until you felt the press of something hard against your chest.

You felt the air leave your lungs in a rush, felt your body bend in a way that was by no means natural as you went over the railing, and then nothing discernible. There was a vague pain in your chest, in your shoulder and in your side, but you couldn’t quite grasp a single feeling long enough to comprehend it as a ringing in your ears drowned out the noise of your own thoughts and that of the crowd around you.

Time seemed to move differently then, a simultaneous mixture of slow motion and fast forward. It was all a blur of muddled noises and flashing images. You weren’t wholly certain what happened between feeling the shoulder of a rival skater press into your chest and finding yourself lying in a bed in the emergency room but, from what you could recollect, you’d taken the hardest hit of your career and were paying for it.

Everything seemed to come into focus all at once.

The lights in the room felt too bright, the scent of antiseptic too strong, the mattress too stiff, the sheets too rough, the noise surrounding you too loud. The combination of it all overwhelmed you and pulled a pained groan from deep in your chest as you shifted in an effort to make yourself more comfortable. As you did so, the curtain separating you from other patients parted enough for Shana to step through. She was followed by a nurse who, when she caught sight of you, stepped around Shana to help you into a seating position.

You managed a quiet ‘thank you’ when you were somewhat comfortable - as comfortable as you imagined you’d get with the throbbing in your head, chest, and back - before sparing Shana a glance as the nurse worked to take your vitals. “What happened?” You winced at the roughness in your voice as Shana frowned. She pocketed her cell phone and moved closer to the edge of your bed as she spared the nurse a quick glance.

“One of their girls got you in a curve,” she began as she hovered just out of the nurses’s way. “You went over the railing, hit the edge of the track, and cracked into one of those tables that wasn’t set up right. It collapsed and you hit the concrete,” she explained as she rubbed idly at the grease paint still clinging to her arm.

“Shit.” Shana exhaled, a puff of air from her nose that passed for a laugh, and nodded at your exclamation. She understood, she’d been there before, and smiled sympathetically as you both watched the nurse scribble on your chart.

The nurse, who’d heard the story already, made a sympathetic noise as she pocketed her pen. “It all would’ve been worse without your helmet and pads,” she pointed out, sparing a glance at the bright pink helmet sitting on the floor, now scuffed from where your head hit. When you furrowed your brows, unaware of why you felt like you’d been hit by a truck instead of a woman on skates, she glanced at the chart in her hands. “You have a mild concussion, dislocated shoulder, and two bruised ribs, among other bruises. Nothing too concerning, but you will be sore for a few days.” She smiled sympathetically, eyes kind, before informing you, “They set your shoulder when you were out so we’ll give you something for the pain and you’ll be out of here in a bit.” She turned to Shana then, tilting her head, and asked, “Are you going to be the one taking her home?”

You knew that Shana had a sitter for her kids - her wife worked nights and wouldn’t be able to relieve her in time - so you spared her from having to answer. “She’s not, but someone will be here soon.” You turned to Shana then, wincing as your body shifted, and asked, “Can you pass me my phone?” She dug through your bag in search of your cellphone, placing it in your outstretched hand with a small, knowing smile on her lips as she did so. If your head wasn’t splitting, you would’ve rolled your eyes. Instead, you focused on breathing through your nose and swallowing the nausea you were feeling as you scrolled through your contacts to find Benny’s name.

Benny, as per usual, answered your call on the first ring with a cheerful, “Honey!” A beat, filled with the sound of Will, Frankie, and Santiago greeting you with various versions of your name, passed as he laughed. “How was the match? Kick some ass?”

You hesitated, fingers plucking at a fraying string on the blanket as you attempted to find a comfortable position to rest your head, and glanced around the room. “Something like that.”

You knew how you sounded. You could hear the way you gritted your teeth in an effort to keep from hissing in pain with every movement, could hear the exhaustion that was beginning to cloud your mind as your headache grew stronger. You could hear the shallowness of your breathing and the rasp in your voice and knew that it was enough to betray just how badly the match had gone.

It was enough that three words were all it took for Benny to ask, “What happened?”

You heard the noise in the background fade, the three men immediately as concerned as Benny upon hearing his question, and sighed. It wasn’t often that you found yourself in this position and, as your mind raced, you knew that you weren’t sure you wanted to end up here ever again. “So, don’t freak out.”

A huff of breath that passed for laughter, amused but tinged with the most fleeting note of tension, filled your ear. “Off to a bad start when it’s you saying that, honey.” He attempted to keep his tone light, teasing, but you could hear the slight edge of worry creeping into his voice. There was a clink on the other end, the sound of a bottle being placed on the table, and you frowned.

You hesitated, teeth worrying with your bottom lip, as you felt an unreasonable anxiety settle in the pit of your stomach. It was Benny, your best friend and the man you were in love with. There was no reason to feel so anxious, especially when he knew what you did for fun, so you heaved a heavier sigh and confessed, “I might be in the ER,” before you could think twice.

Though the words were rushed, slurred in an effort to force them from your mouth, Benny heard you clearly. “You might be in the ER or you are in the ER?” Despite it being phrased as a question, you heard the sound of a chair scraping against hardwood and the jingle of keys on the other end of the line. You imagined Benny standing, gathering his possessions in preparation to come to you before you could even ask, and felt the weight pressing on your chest grow heavier.

“I am,” you admitted quietly, sheepishly, as you glanced over at Shana. Her eyes were on her phone, no doubt keeping in touch with the sitter, and you frowned. “Shana’s with me but she’s gotta head home, relieve the sitter.” You paused, unexplained anxiety growing more intense, before you asked, “Can you come pick me up?”

Benny scoffed, as if that was even a question. “I’m already on my way. Be there in fifteen, honey.”

You knew that the guys were gathered at Santiago’s for their semi-regular game night - poker, usually, though it changed depending on the season and the additional guests - and you felt guilty for pulling him away. However, judging by the noise that filtered through the receiver, they all seemed to be following Benny’s lead and gathering their own possessions in preparation for the drive.

They were easily thirty minutes away, on a good day, but you believed his estimate and huffed at his declaration.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” It was a demand, not quite as strong as the fight Benny was used to, though your tone was still sharp enough to drive home how serious you were. “One of us in the hospital is enough.”

Another puff of breath that passed for laughter, this one stronger and easier to recognize, escaped him as a car door opened. “Sure, honey.” He acquiesced easily, though you knew he planned on breaking as many traffic laws as necessary to make it to the hospital in the shortest amount of time, and you felt the corner of your mouth rise as he promised, “Be there soon.”

When Benny ended the call, you passed the phone back to Shana and rested your head against the pillows. She and the nurse kept you awake - the nurse by handing you the pain medication she’d promised and Shana by showing you videos sent by the rest of the team as they finished up the match. You struggled to pay attention at first, headache clouding your thoughts and ache in your ribs catching your notice with every breath, but soon felt the medication kick in.

In the twenty minutes it took for Benny to make his way to the hospital, you’d managed to cycle through a near panic attack, a splitting headache, and feeling as if you’d been hit by a truck before the medication put you at ease. You couldn’t remember why you’d been anxious, couldn’t remember why your head hurt or what the dull ache in your shoulder was from, but none of that seemed to matter when you heard Benny’s voice.

Unsurprisingly, he’d strolled into the hospital with Will, Santiago, and Frankie in tow. The four of them cut an intimidating figure on a good day but were even more imposing as they crossed the room without a moment’s hesitation and stepped straight to the front desk. Benny was direct, though not unkind, as he asked about you. It lacked his usual charm, there was no grin in his voice as he requested to see you, but you couldn’t focus enough on the situation at hand to dwell on it.

Before the nurse manning the desk could respond, Shana - who’d heard him just as clearly as you had - stepped out of the patient area and approached them. “He’s her emergency contact.” The attention fell to her, then, the guys looking between her and the nurse. Benny shot her an appreciative smile as she continued, “And they’re family.”

Before the nurse could refuse them, Shana began guiding them back to you. The nurse, overworked and overwhelmed by the influx of patients, didn’t argue and Shana was able to usher them through the curtain that hid you from view.

Santiago whistled lowly when he saw you, head lolled and eyes half-closed, but you could see the amusement on his face as he leaned against the counter. You were certain that you were a sight, uniform still on and spaced out on whatever they’d given you, but you didn’t give it a second thought as Frankie settled beside him, expression soft, and shot you a smile. Will, whose expression generally remained unreadable, also shot you a soft smile as he lingered near the foot of your bed with Shana.

Benny shouldered past them all, corner of his mouth curving into a soft smile as he inched closer to you, and shook his head when he finally reached you. “Look at you, honey.” He sighed, the sound quiet, and his eyes clouded with a concern you’d never seen directed at you as he reached out to brush a strand of hair from your forehead.

“You should see the other guy.” Benny snorted at your choice of words, a line he’d directed at you on more than one occasion, but had no room to respond as you lolled your head to fix him with an exaggeratedly stern look. “You’re late,” you accused, grinning lazily at him as you tapped the screen of your phone to check the time, “five whole minutes, Benjamin.”

“Sorry, honey.” His voice was soft, as was his smile, as he settled onto the edge of the mattress beside you. “Had to grab a few things from my place. Figured we’d head straight back to yours when they let you go.” You hummed a noncommittal noise that made Benny shake his head fondly, and blinked slowly as you tried to keep your eyes open. “The one match I don’t come to,” he teased, voice softer than you’d heard it in a long while, “and this is what happens.”

You felt yourself settling deeper into the pillows, body relaxing as Benny’s hand rested just beside yours, and glanced at Shana. “Sorry.” She shot Benny a teasing smile as she reached for her own bag. “We’ll wrap her in bubble wrap for our next match,” she offered, laughing when Benny gave an exaggerated, appreciative nod. She turned her full attention to you, then, smile softening. “I have to head home but keep me updated on how you’re feeling.” She reached out, squeezed your hand gently, and spared Benny a glance. “I’m sure he’ll take good care of you.”

A few quiet snickers sounded, Frankie and Santi sharing a look that you couldn’t read, as Shana disappeared. A beat of silence passed as they studied you before Santi, who’d managed to find your skate bag, nudged one of the skates with a playful smile. “Still can’t believe you play roller derby.” He studied the objects sticking out of your bag, mild interest evident, before he glanced back at you. “Didn’t know you had it in you, querida.”

“Benny’s my best friend,” you reminded him, eyes cracked just enough to see the vague outline of him at your side. “Expect unexpected, somewhat dangerous hobbies.”

Benny laughed at the implication behind your words as the guys smiled at the pair of you. He nudged your thigh, easily capturing your attention, and studied your face for any sign of discomfort. “Meant to ask,” he began, blue eyes settling on yours, “how’re you feeling?”

You lolled your head to get a better look at him and smiled as you blindly reached out to tap his hand. “Feelin’ good,” you hummed, nodding as you blinked owlishly. “Floating, I think.” Benny took your hand in his, grinning at your answer, and glanced at the guys as they shook their heads.

You sighed at the feeling of Benny’s hand in yours, lips curving into an involuntary smile at the warmth of his palm pressed to yours, as Santiago raised an eyebrow. “Floating?” He snickered, amused at your state, and glanced at the nurse as she returned to check on you. “What’d they give you, sweetheart?”

“Something for the pain.” The nurse answered before you could, giving the men a tight smile as she stepped around Santiago and Frankie to reach your side. “She’ll be ready to discharge in about twenty minutes. Which one of you is tasked with keeping an eye on her?”

Her eyes fell to Benny before he could answer, sparing a glance at your intertwined hands and the dopey smile on your lips, correctly assuming that he would be the one to keep an eye on you. When he held up his free hand, offering a clear, “Me,” she nodded.

She studied him for a moment, eyes raking over his form - lingering on the healing knuckles, split in his last fight, and fading bruise on his cheek. “Do I need to go over the concussion protocol?”

“Nope.” You answered before Benny could and smiled brightly at him when your eyes met his. “He gets beat up all the time,” you explained seriously, returning your attention to the nurse with your mouth set into a concentrated frown. She raised an eyebrow at your explanation, sparing a glance at the other men crowding the room, before returning her attention to you. “He’s used to head injuries.” Benny nodded at that, shrugged as if your explanation was beyond reasonable, while Santiago and Frankie snickered.

Will, who’d relegated himself to the corner, sighed - though you could see the corner of his mouth curling into an amused smile as he bit back his own laughter. “He’s an MMA fighter,” he explained, cutting his eyes at you and Benny before either of you could say anything else to cause concern. “He knows what to do, but thank you.”

The nurse nodded, eyebrow still raised, but didn’t bother pressing for more details as she marked something on your chart. “Uh-huh,” she hummed, eyes remaining on the page as she continued to scribble. “Great. Well, just hang tight and we’ll have her all set soon.” She turned to you, a smile on her lips, and advised, “In the meantime, if you need anything, just press that button.”

With that, she was gone. She disappeared back out into the hall and as the curtain fluttered behind her, you nodded. “She’s nice. I like her.” A brief pause, filled by the noise of the hospital around you, before you continued, “I don’t think she trusts us, though.”

There was a beat of silence before the guys laughed, watching as you nodded confidently at your own observation. Benny, who hadn’t moved, squeezed your hand gently and easily recaptured your attention with a soft smile. His eyes searched your face, again looking for any sign of discomfort, as he asked, “You good, honey? Need anything before we break you out of here?”

You thought about it for a moment, headache and medicated fog impeding your ability to truly catalogue what you were feeling, before you met his eyes with a sheepish smile. The only thing that truly stuck out to you was how dry your mouth felt. “Can I have some water, please? Feels like I’ve got sandpaper on my tongue.” As if seeking to show him how you felt, you stuck your tongue out and attempted to glance down at it. You winced at the discomfort of crossing your eyes but smiled when it seemed to pull another round of laughter from the guys and prompt another amused smile out of Benny.

He squeezed your hand, nodding easily, and stood from his seat at your side. “‘Course,” he agreed, squeezing your hand a final time before returning it to the mattress. “I’ll be right back. The guys’ll keep you company, honey.”

“Don’t get lost,” you urged, eyes already slipping shut as you wiggled your fingers and mourned the loss of feeling Benny’s skin against yours. “The halls are dangerous.”

You couldn’t see the expressions on their faces, couldn’t read Benny’s amusement, but you could hear their stifled laughter as Benny assured you he would be vigilant as he sought out water for you. A moment passed, filled easily by the sound of chatter just outside of your area, and you could feel three sets of eyes trained on you. You wondered, fleetingly, how long it would take for one of them to remind you that sleep wasn’t an option, not yet, but didn’t have a chance to question it as Santiago broke the silence.

“Benny was glad you called when you did,” he began, tone tinged with mischief as your eyes cracked open and settled on him. “He was losing all his money.”

At the mention of Benny, you sighed and shook your head slowly. “I love him,” you declared, voice soft but clearly audible as you heaved another, dreamier sigh. “Shana was right. I just can’t help it.”

Your confession was met with silence. From the corner of your eye, you could see the three men sharing glances - ones that you couldn’t read, not in your state - but you paid them little mind as you plucked at another string raveling from your blanket. “He’s so pretty and thoughtful and smart. He calls me honey and leaves game night with you guys to take care of me.” You smiled, expression clearly lovestruck, and blinked slowly as your eyes fell to the curtain. “I love him as more than a friend.”

The silence lingered, surprise evident on all of their faces, but you didn’t mind. You couldn’t remember why you’d never shared this with them before, what made you keep it from them like some sort of secret, but it didn’t matter as you sighed happily.

Santiago looked as if he planned to speak. His eyebrows furrowed and his lips curved into a soft frown as he folded his arms over his chest, but before he could utter a word, the curtain rustled and Benny returned with a bottle of water.

“Benny!” You cheered, more animated than you’d been before he left, and grinned when he settled back on the edge of the mattress beside you. He laughed, amused by your excitement, and unscrewed the cap on the bottle as you lifted your head. “I was just telling them.” You gestured to the three men - all glancing at one another to see if you were actually going to share your confession or if you were going to share another revelation with him - and hissed when you accidentally shifted your shoulder in a way that sent a jolt of pain through you.

Benny reached out, careful not to hurt you, and gently lowered your arm back to your side. “Careful, honey,” he chided, smile softening as he shifted closer with your water. “Don’t straight it, alright.”

You nodded, unfazed. “Sure. Anyway, I was telling them,” this time, a jerk of your head that intensified the headache that had started to ebb, “that I love you. And I do. I love you a lot and I appreciate you, you know?”

You weren’t sure what you were expecting but a moment of clarity, a reminder of why you’d never shared this particular piece of information, was not it. However, the moment the words left your mouth, Benny winced. His smile dropped momentarily, returning just as soon as you noticed it disappear, but he suddenly seemed unable to look you in the eye.

The reasons you gave Shana before the match, the denial you’d repeated so often that it had to be true, flooded your mind full force as regret washed over you. He didn’t need to speak, didn’t need to speak to confirm your suspicion, and you felt tears well in your eyes as you realized that you’d been right the whole time.

To your complete and utter gratitude, Frankie stepped in and spoke before Benny could. “You alright, querida?” You knew how it looked, the tears lining your lashes and the sudden unsteadiness of your breathing, but you nodded at his question, anyway.

You moved your hand to hover over your shoulder, fingers barely brushing your skin. “Just hurts,” you answered, voice quiet and shaking as you lolled your head back and rolled your eyes to the ceiling. “I want to go home.” The anxiety you’d felt when you first dialed his number was back, settling fully in the pit of your stomach, only you were able to identify it this time. “Sorry you guys had to cut your night short to come get me,” you apologized, not bothering to look at any of them, “know you had other plans.”

Benny, who seemed to have barely breathed in the moments since your confession, sighed but, once again, Frankie beat him to the punch. “You saved us all from destroying our friendship over a bad hand,” he teased, though you could tell his heart wasn’t exactly in it as Benny’s weight lifted from the side of the bed.

You cracked your eyes open just enough to catch Will ushering Benny beyond the curtain, two sets of blue eyes turning to you before the material fluttered closed, and bit back another heavy sigh as you waited for them to return. Frankie and Santiago both kept quiet, though you heard a few whispered phrases passed in Spanish, and the air felt immensely different - heavier - than it had before you’d opened your mouth.

Everything after your confession was something of a blur. You were too focused on the hollow ache in your chest, joining the very real pain emanating from your shoulder and head, to contribute to the conversation but you did observe quietly as the nurse passed on instructions to Benny. He listened intently, blue eyes narrowed in concentration as she covered the proper care - instructions you knew he already had memorized but figured he needed as a distraction, just as much as you did - before helping you out of the emergency room.

Nothing was said as he walked you out into the cool night air, arm around your waist, careful to avoid bumping your injuries as he guided you to his car. You were exhausted, mentally and physically drained, so you used your injuries to your advantage and rested your head against the window as he navigated the streets to your apartment. You felt his eyes on you every now and again, checking to make sure you hadn’t fallen asleep, but, for the first time in your friendship, you were met with a near silent Ben Miller.

It seemed as if he only spoke to you when he had to after leaving the hospital. He made himself at home in the living room, dropping the backpack you assumed he’d grabbed on his way to you by the sofa, before helping you to your bedroom. He asked if you had any old button downs you could sleep in, something that wouldn’t require you to lift your arm too much, and gathered the necessary items to help you take off your makeup and remove the greasepaint from your skin.

His touch was gentle, careful, as he helped you prepare for bed and it only made the ache in your chest grow stronger as he brushed the hair from your face.

He lingered by your side, blue eyes a raging storm of emotions you couldn’t quite read, and frowned when an errant tear slipped down your cheek. He assumed it was from the pain - he’d never seen you injured and had no real way of telling what your pain tolerance was - and shifted the heating pad he’d brought to a better position under your shoulder.

“That any better, honey?”

Your eyes slipped shut at the sound of his voice, rough with disuse and an emotion you’d never heard from him. “I’m fine,” you assured him, though you knew that statement was far less convincing than you’d ever been. “Just want to sleep.” He made a noise of acknowledgment but didn’t bother moving as you attempted to focus on your breathing. Though you were so desperate for some kind of rest, you couldn’t bring yourself to think of anything other than, “Benny?”

He shifted, just a fraction closer, and squeezed your outstretched hand. “Yeah, honey?”

“I’m in love with you and that scares the fuck out of me.” You couldn’t look at him, not this time, so you kept your eyes closed. You could feel his eyes on your face, searching for an answer to a question he hadn’t asked, and swallowed thickly when he sighed. He took a deep breath, as if he were getting ready to speak, but you shook your head. “It’s okay,” you began, voice quiet in the darkness of your bedroom, “that you don’t love me back. I get it. I just… Can you do me a favor?” Another beat passed, this one filled with your shaking breath, before you asked, “Can you pretend, just until I fall asleep? I don’t want to be alone.”

Benny didn’t speak, didn’t respond to your request verbally, and you couldn’t see the anguish in his eyes as he kicked off his shoes and settled onto the bed beside you. He remained above the covers, body just close enough to yours to feel the heat seeping from his skin, and you sighed quietly as his fingers idly brushed at your shoulder. He was careful not to press too harshly to your skin and you were grateful for the warmth he oozed as you let the remnants of your pain medication pull you under.

He woke you a few times throughout the night, careful to comply with the concussion protocol the nurse had given him, but the moment you woke for the day, you were alone. You woke to the smell of coffee and the sound of footsteps in your living room. Your entire body felt stiff, as if you’d gone a few rounds with Benny in the ring, and your head felt fuzzy but you tried to swallow your groan of pain as you pushed yourself up and out of bed.

The journey to the living room, though not far, felt significantly more arduous than it ever had before. Your head throbbed, your stomach churned, your side ached with every breath, and your shoulder felt stiff. There was a vague feeling of unease settling in the pit of your stomach but you couldn’t quite work out what was causing you so much anxiety as you reached the kitchen.

The night was a blur, a mixture of vivid flashes and hazy memories, but none of the things that stood out seemed that remarkable. One glance at Benny, however, told you that whatever it was, he felt it, too.

He stood, clad in a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt, at the counter and removed what you recognized to be a peppermint tea bag from your favorite mug. He glanced at you over his shoulder and shot you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Morning, honey,” he greeted, voice soft in what you assumed to be an effort to keep from worsening your headache.

“Morning.” Your voice was just as quiet as his, partially to persevere the environment and partially to keep the confusion and increasing panic you felt from creeping into your tone. “Thanks for staying.”

Benny scoffed, as if it was ridiculous that you’d thank him for staying with you when you needed him, and shook his head. His expression grew more sincere, eyes soft but certain, as he gathered your mug and his. “Like it was even a question.” He huffed, exaggeratedly annoyed, and gestured for you to lead the way to the couch. “How’re you feeling?”

“I feel like I got hit by a bus.” You winced at the sunlight filtering through your blinds and shook your head slightly. “If this is anything like how you feel after a fight, I sincerely apologize for teasing you. This shit’s rough.”

Benny laughed, a genuine sound that made your lip twitch with the ghost of a smile, as he placed your mug on the coffee table and shook his head. “Bus, fighter, woman on roller skates; same thing,” he teased, though something in his tone was off as he crossed the room to close the blinds and draw the curtain. “I figured you had ibuprofen but I brought extra and Ben-Gay.” He returned to your side just as quickly as he’d left it and helped you lower yourself onto the couch. “The smell’s awful but it’ll help with your shoulder.”

You frowned at the mention of the ointment you and the guys all teased him for. You glanced at the tube, sitting on the edge of your coffee table, and wrinkled your nose. “That’s the menthol stuff you used after that fight in Louisiana, huh?” He nodded, a puff of air leaving his nose at your exaggerated frown, and passed you your tea. “Does it work?”

“It’s a staple for a reason.” He settled into the cushions beside you, head turned to study you, and took a sip of his coffee. “Only thing I’ve found that really helps.”

You huffed, prompting another quiet laugh from Benny, as you eyed the tube with a frown. “A ringing endorsement.” It was deadpan, over-exaggerated to pull a brighter laugh from Benny, but accompanied by a small smile as you held your mug in both hands and savored its warmth. “Guess I’ll trust you.”

“You should.” He met your eyes and beneath the storm of emotions you couldn’t quite name, you saw a twinkle of mischief as he reminded you, “According to you, I have plenty of experience getting my ass kicked.”

At Benny’s gentle teasing, you felt the vague sense of unease you’d woken with grow stronger. The reminder of what you’d said to the nurse filled in a gap, fleshed out one of the hazier memories, and slowly felt the rest of your night filter back into place.

The entire hospital stay, though cloaked in a haze of almost uncertainty, came rushing back. You closed your eyes and brought your hand to your temple as you remembered everything you’d hoped you’d forget; the eager declaration of your love for Benny to the guys, the direct confession to the man himself, the way he’d winced and pulled away from you after, the near silence that filled your home as he took care of you.

It all seemed to sting just a little deeper as you realized that everything was real, not some vivid hallucination. You shook your head, chest beginning to rise and fall just a bit faster than normal, and whispered, “I’m sorry, Benny.”

He sighed, eyes flashing darker as he placed his mug on the coffee table, and turned to you. “Listen,” he began as he ran a hand through his hair. “We should probably talk about last night.”

You shook your head once more, eyes remaining shut as you held your mug to your chest in an effort to protect yourself. “It’s fine,” you whispered, eyes opening as you attempted your most convincing smile. “I know what I said but I didn’t mean any of it.” You thought about the look on his face after your confession, the way his eyes dimmed and his smile fell, and shook your head for a third time. You were bracing for rejection and you weren’t in the mood to deal with it. “I was just high on pain meds.”

“Honey.” Benny’s tone was even, quiet, as he tilted his head in an effort to meet your eyes.

You swallowed, pointedly glancing away from him, and moved to place your tea on the table. “My shoulder’s killing me,” you interjected, hoping that a change in subject would dissuade him from outright rejecting you. “Is it supposed to hurt like this, even after they’ve popped it back in?”

“Sure as hell ain’t gonna feel good.” His tone was sharper than he meant it to be and you could tell that he regretted it when he closed his eyes and ran his hand over the scruff that lined his jaw. “Sorry,” he sighed, shaking his head as if to clear it, and opened his eyes. “Turn around, let me take a look.”

“I’m sorry.”

Benny said nothing in response to your apology as you turned and shrugged off the button-down he’d helped you into. You held it up, covering your chest, and bit the inside of your cheek as he shifted closer to you. He turned, pressed his knee into the cushion at your side, and was careful not to jostle you as his fingers brushed your bruised skin.

Benny’s fingers carefully brushed your shoulder blade, touch feather light to avoid hurting you. You held your breath, careful to keep the sigh building in your chest at bay, and let your eyes slip shut as you reveled in his touch. His skin was warm, calloused from years of working with his hands, and simultaneously set you at ease and put you on edge.

He carefully prodded, fingers searching for anything out of the ordinary, and sighed when he found nothing. “It takes a few weeks to heal,” he reminded you, voice gentle as he continued aimlessly brushing his fingers over your skin. “I’ll put some Ben-Gay on it and you can take a few ibuprofen. Might not fix it but it should set you up so you can relax a little.”

Before he could pull away, you released the breath you’d been holding in the form of his name. “I’m sorry.” You repeated your earlier apology, in hopes that he’d acknowledge it, and inhaled sharply as he carefully pressed his forehead just beneath the nape of your neck.

He was mindful of the pressure, never settling too heavily against your skin, and sighed as his fingers traced the collar of your shirt. A shiver ran down your spine at the feeling of his breath fanning over your skin, warm and lingering in the frigid air of your apartment, and a shaking sigh fell from your lips before you could stop it.

“Why are you apologizing, honey?” His question was imploring, not demanding, and it made your chest ache as he inhaled deeply. You felt his lashes fluttering against your skin as his eyes shut and huffed a quiet breath when his palm splayed over your shoulder.

You weren’t certain. You felt the need to apologize, despite having done nothing truly wrong, but took it as an opportunity to remind him that you understood. So, instead of shrugging your uninjured shoulder, you confessed, “I lied.” Your voice was quiet in the stillness of the living room and you felt the puff of air Benny exhaled more than you heard it. “I am in love with you.”

Benny’s free hand dipped lower, resting on your waist, and gently squeezed. “I should be the one apologizing, honey.”

“For what?” The confusion in your question was evident. He had no reason to apologize and you were quick to assure him of that. “It’s okay that you don’t feel the same way, Benny,” you whispered, voice soft as you tried to keep the tears stinging your eyes at bay. “Really.”

“When did I say I didn’t feel the same way?”

Benny’s question threw you. You didn’t understand what he meant by it but you were still convinced that nothing good could come of the conversation so you sighed. “Benny, don’t.”

He shook his head softly, shifted back just enough to put an inch of space between his face and your back. “No, honey,” he urged, tired of being shut down as he attempted to continue the conversation. “Why do you think I don’t feel the same way?”

Shana had given you a thousand examples of why she believed Benny was as in love with you as you were with him but your only response to why you believed he couldn’t be was, “Because you’re you.”

“Should I be offended by that?”

There was a playful edge to his question, something that told you he wasn’t really offended, but the underlying tone of hurt made you wince as you quickly shook your head. “I just… Last night, you got quiet after I said it. And you’re never quiet, Benny. I just figured you were trying to figure out how to let me down without hurting my feelings.”

Benny shook his head. “Honey, you were high on pain meds and nursing a head injury. I’m sorry I made you feel like this wasn’t requited but I was surprised. I spent most of the night thinking about it,” he confessed, laughing quietly as he squeezed your hip. “I wasn’t sure you’d even remember last night and wanted to wait until you were coherent to talk, to make sure you really meant it.”

You felt as if your lungs couldn’t fill fast enough and your heart might stop beating as you processed Benny’s confession. You didn’t want to jump to conclusions, not when he hadn’t explicitly said the words, so you swallowed and asked, “I’m nursing a head injury. Can you be more clear?”

This pulled a genuine laugh from Benny as he shifted, pulled away from you and helped you turn. His eyes, brighter blue than you’d see them in a while, shined when he met yours. “You’re going to milk that, aren’t you?” You nodded, lips curving into a hopeful, soft smile, and Benny copied the gesture. “That’s alright. I’ll give in every time because I love you, honey.”

Your eyes searched his, desperately seeking any sign of deception. “You never said anything.” Your voice was a whisper, afraid that if you spoke too loud, the dream would end and you would wake to find yourself alone, but Benny heard you. He nodded slowly, eyebrows raised as if to say ‘you didn’t either,’ and smiled when you continued, “You don’t wait, Benny. You know what you want and you go for it.”

Benny shifted closer, his knees pressing to yours, and reached out for your hands. “I don’t rush the important things, honey,” he reminded you, though his eyes softened as he took in the look on your face. “You mean so much to me. I didn’t want to fuck it up.” He paused then, laughing quietly, and shook his head as he met your eyes once more. “I haven’t exactly been subtle, though. Will, Fish, Pope; they all know.”

“Is that why they stopped making jokes about us?”

Benny sighed, winced at the reminder of the jokes the guys used to make, and nodded. “Yeah,” he confirmed, bringing his free hand to the back of his neck. “I asked them to stop. You were getting annoyed and I didn’t want them to make you uncomfortable.”

“I was only annoyed because I was getting the same thing from the girls at roller derby,” you confessed, smiling sheepishly as you squeezed his hand. “They called it and wouldn’t quit. I was always afraid Shana or Jen was gonna tell you.”

“I think Shana tried a few times,” Benny confessed, grinning when you groaned. “But you always skated out before she could and I didn’t hear anything else she said.”

You sighed, heart pounding in your chest as you smiled, and shook your head. “I can’t believe we’re so dumb,” you teased, smiling softly as you squeezed his hand. “We could’ve avoided this whole mess if we’d just talked.” When Benny frowned, brows furrowed in confusion, you sheepishly confessed, “I was so in my head about you, about us, that I was totally checked out of the match. I got hit ‘cause I wasn’t paying attention.”

Benny groaned, though his grin grew brighter, and shook his head at your admission. “I’m sorry, honey,” he teased, eyes light as he reached out to cup your cheek with his free hand. “How can I make it up to you?”

“Put some of that gross menthol stuff on my shoulder and lay with me while I rewatch Bob’s Burgers?”

If Benny had expected anything else, he didn’t let on. Instead, he nodded easily and leaned in to press his forehead to yours. “Sure, honey,” he agreed, smile never fading as he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, “anything you want.”

You knew that there was more to talk about later but in that moment, as your shoulder throbbed and your head ached, you were glad that the ache in your chest seemed to dissipate. Benny settled in beside you after working the ointment into your shoulder, grinning despite the overwhelming scent of menthol, and that was enough for the moment.

________________________________________________________________

Author’s Note: I never mean to write so much but when it comes to Benny, I just start and can’t figure out when to stop. I could talk about him for ages. Someone send help. Or don’t. I’m content here. I could use some snacks, though.

Tag List: @peoniarose, @karie-me-home, @rachelwritestuff, @stardust-galaxies, @deliciouslydisturbed365, @a-louise-juliane, @ben-is-a-hoe, @weasleywinchester, @crowfootwrites, @winchestershiresauce, @kesskirata, @lyr1ssa, @viyasstuff, @negansnympho89, @im-just-a-mississippi-girl, @kirsteng42, @balekanemohafe, @avengers-fixation, @buckybarneshairpullingkink, @nintendhoe8, @luciferiorbxtch, @jettia

#triple frontier imagine #benny miller imagine #benny miller x reader #benny miller fic #ben miller x you #ben miller x reader #triple frontier x reader #triple frontier fic #benny miller x you #v’s fics

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carni-val · 2 years

Text

Just Friends, Just Desserts [Benny Miller]

pairing: Benny Miller x F!Reader

summary: You and Benny have a long-standing tradition of faking proposals at restaurants to get free dessert, but when you witness a real proposal together, it becomes apparent that the two of you aren’t just friends.

author’s note: Well, here we are, my first Benny Miller fic, I hope I did him justice and I hope you enjoy! Special thanks to @lovebarefootblonde and @rayslittlekitten for helping me work out this idea!

Benny Miller Masterlist

The restaurant was dimly lit and silent as all the attention was on you but all you could focus on was the hopeful stare in Benny’s eyes. He was down on one knee and upon him doing so, silence flooded the room like a chain reaction as each table began to realize what was happening. The ring nestled into its box glimmered under the minimal light as Benny held it out to you. A smile was stretched over your face as you placed your hands over your heart. He looked really good in his button-up shirt and with his hair actually styled properly instead of being covered by a hat.

“Will you marry me?” Benny finally asked.

Everybody was waiting on the edge of their seats to hear your answer. Would this be something they would discuss briefly and happily at their table afterwards or would it be something they snickered about with their friends later? You already knew your answer; you had said it plenty of times before. Your head nodded erratically before you said, “Yes.”

Everybody cheered and clapped their hands as Benny took you into his arms as he stood up. His grasp lifted you off of the ground and you laughed along with him at the gesture. You buried your face in his shoulder before he put you down and hastily put the ring on your finger. You marvelled at it on your hand even though it had been there countless times before. Once you looked up at Benny, he gave you a kiss as he held you close. Pulling away, you couldn’t hide the grin if you wanted to before turning to everyone around you smiling softer towards them. People smiled, cheered, and some even raised their glasses to you.

You feigned shyness as you buried your face in Benny’s shoulder. He took your hand in his and kissed the back of it before he gestured for you to sit down and across from him like you were before. Slowly, people began to turn back to their tables and some of the neighbouring tables leaned over to say a personal thank you before Benny let his fingers intertwine with yours on the tabletop. The two of you were grinning silently to one another and having a conversation nobody could understand at the same time. Neither of you could help but let a laugh escape you. It was a contagion contained between the both of you, whenever Benny smiled you did and vice versa.

“Can you believe…?” Benny trailed off, feigning awe as he looked at you.

It was so convincing that it made it easy for you to respond honestly, “No,” you shook your head before looking down at the ring as it sat on your hand.

“It fits like a glove,” he commented.

You shot him a look only he would understand, “It’s almost like I picked it out myself.”

Finally, a waiter came over to your table with a plate of dessert in one hand and a small bottle of champagne in the other. “On behalf of The Ivory Tower we’d like to say congratulations,” he smiled while putting the dessert down on the table between you two.

You resisted the urge to lick your lips at the pastry in front of you. You had seen countless pictures online and read reviews that raved about the dish. The word Congratulations! was spelled out on the plate with the chocolate sauce that was oozing out of the dessert itself. It looked so moist and soft, like it would melt in your mouth the second it touched your tastebuds.

“And from the couple over there,” the waiter finished, placing the bottle of champagne on the table before pointing to another table a few feet away.

Turning to look, you noticed they were an older couple who were already watching the two of you with smiles on their faces. The man raised his glass of wine to you and you smiled in response.

The waiter had come back with two flutes, popped open the champagne and filled your glasses. After thanking the waiter who then left, you and Benny clinked your glasses together, smiling at one another before taking a sip. You could taste the fruity and blond notes and how well they blended together. By the look on Benny’s face, you could tell he was enjoying it too. Neither of you had ever had champagne this good before.

“We should thank them,” you suggested, feeling bad that they had paid for the pricey alcohol. This was never in the plan and it had never happened before.

Benny looked at you and nodded, “Yeah, let’s do it.”

Standing up, you led Benny over to their table and the couple looked up at you when you stood table side. “We just wanted to thank you for the champagne,” you said. “That was really thoughtful of you.”

“Of course,” the older gentleman said, lifting his wine glass to clink against yours and then Benny’s and you didn’t miss the gold ring with a gem in the centre of it on his right hand twinkling under the lights. You repeated the gesture with his wife.

“Congratulations,” she told you and Benny with a big smile while you were busy wondering if the pearls around her neck were real. If they were eating at a place like this and were able to afford to buy that kind of champagne for strangers, you assumed they had to be quite wealthy and that there was a very big possibility that the pearls were real.

You had pulled out your fanciest dress that still probably wasn’t even half the price of some of the dresses you saw on some of the women in the room. Benny pulled out his nicest pair of shoes and you helped him iron his shirt so it was as crisp as it had ever been since he bought it.

“Thank you,” Benny smiled at her before putting a hand on your waist and leading you back towards your table.

Once you sat down at your table again, you both picked up your spoons and dug into the dessert as you had been dying to before you even booked the reservation. At the taste of chocolate in your mouth accompanied by the crunch of the sliced almonds, you decided driving half an hour out to this restaurant was well-worth it.

***

“It’s basically a French toast sandwich,” you concluded, “It’s filled with mascarpone, some vanilla and lemon and it’s got powdered sugar on top!” you read from your phone to Benny that morning.

He had had a fight last night and left the ring a winner, so you grabbed a few celebratory drinks with him and Will afterwards which resulted in you crashing at his place. You woke up the next morning and the both of you silently perused your phones as you lay next to one another, not quite ready for human interaction yet. Benny had been awake first and looking through his phone and you followed suit until you saw one of your favourite foodie Instagram accounts post a picture of the most mouthwatering dessert you’d seen in a long time.

You tilted your phone screen towards Benny who was lying next to you. He rolled his head over, his temple landing on your shoulder, to look at your phone screen and his eyes widened as he gripped your phone. “Holy shit,” he breathed, staring at the picture, “That looks like the fluffiest bread I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s brioche!” you raved as he handed your phone back to you.

“Where is this place?”

“It’s about an hour and a half away,” you replied, already having looked it up on your Maps app.

“Jesus,” he sighed.

The two of you always travelled out of town to perform. It made it less likely that you two would be found out for scamming restaurants out of desserts if they were so far away from each other and away from where anyone knew either of you.

“We can make a full day out of it,” you suggested, looking through the restaurant’s page.

“I don’t know, that’s a bit of a drive,” Benny replied.

“It’s not the longest one we’ve ever taken though,” you reminded him.

“We only drove two hours because their tiramisu was supposedly to die for.”

“And it was!” you protested.

“It was alright,” Benny refuted, “I could’ve bought better tiramisu from a Walmart.”

“Oh, don’t exaggerate,” you nudged his shoulder with yours playfully, “We’ve never seen anything like this before,” you gestured to the picture again. “We can take turns driving.”

Benny felt a little more at ease at the idea now that you mentioned that.

“But we’d better make a reservation quick because they’re running out of room fast,” you informed him.

“If they’re busy this week, we can go next week.”

“No,” you looked at him, really seeing his bruised cheek up close for the first time in daylight. “They’re about to be booked up for the next three months.”

Benny sighed, clearly torn between waiting the three months or taking the drive up.

“Please Benny,” you looked up at him with big, round eyes. “Look at how good it looks!” you showed him the picture again. “I can’t go three months without it now that I know that it exists!”

Benny sighed, looking back and forth between you and your phone. He desperately wanted to say no, but he couldn’t refuse you because he saw how much you wanted to try this dessert. You had also succumbed to the two hour drive when he really wanted to try that tiramisu. It wasn’t worth it in the end and he felt bad for wasting your time. He didn’t see it that way, but he knew you only obliged because you knew how much he loved tiramisu. “When’s the next available time?”

You scanned through the reservation section on the restaurant’s website until you found it. “Tomorrow at 11:45am,” you answered. “Someone just cancelled.”

It was Saturday today and Benny had a fight on Friday night. That was plenty of time to work the dessert off before he had to get back in the ring. Benny knew he had to pace himself with the desserts so he could be in proper fighting shape which is why the two of you only engaged in this hobby intermittently. “That’s an early time,” he quirked his brow in confusion. Usually the two of you went out to restaurants later in the evening.

“It’s a brunch place,” you replied.

“I’ll drive us there but you better keep your promise on driving us back,” he looked you in the eye as he held out his pinkie finger.

Your face lit up with a smile, “It’s gonna be so worth it!” you promised as you wrapped your pinkie around his.

“It better be,” Benny chuckled, having completely abandoned his phone at one point as he watched you make the reservation. “Is the ring with you or with me?” he asked.

“I have it at home in my drawer,” you answered. “We’re booked for tomorrow at 11:45am!” you beamed and Benny couldn’t help but smile back at you.

You looked to your pinkies that were still interlocked and noticed a small bruise forming on his hand. “Does that hurt?” you nodded towards it.

Benny turned his hand to examine the damage but didn’t release your pinkie from his, “Not too bad.”

“Do you want some ice for that or for your face?” you asked, “Some painkillers?”

“I’ll be alright,” he assured you.

“Are you sure?” you reached out and let the outmost points of your fingertips gently caress the purpling bruise high on his cheek bone so you didn’t hurt him. “It looks kinda rough,” you winced.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” he told you. “Oh hey, how did your date go?” he remembered.

You rolled your eyes as you felt your mood deflate, “Awful,” you deadpanned.

“Of course it was,” he chuckled.

“He was so boring!” you defended, “The small talk just dragged on and on and on,” you groaned, pulling your hand from his face and placing it on your forehead as you lay back on your pillow.

“You say that about every guy you go out with,” Benny chuckled.

“Because it’s true,” you proclaimed, “How many more times am I gonna have to answer the questions ‘what do you do for a living?’; ‘how many siblings do you have?’; and ‘wanna get out of here?’ until I find a guy who doesn’t ask me those questions over dinner?”

Benny’s mind flashed to the only answer he had: himself. The two of you met in high school and became really good friends. Although you stayed in your hometown to go to college after graduation, Benny was deployed on the other side of the world serving his country. He’d never forget that time period without you. He made really good friends in the army but none that ever compared to you. The two of you were on the same page since the day you met. That’s how all of this started. When the two of you were out for lunch the day he came back home, you watched a proposal take place and noticed the delicious dessert they were handed for free. When the two of you looked back at each other, you both had the same idea swarming your heads.

From then on, a tradition was born. It started off as something you would decide to do if you ever found yourselves at a restaurant together, but then you began planning to go out to eat with the sole purpose of getting free dessert. Before the proposal would happen though, you would enjoy your meals with lots of laughter in between bites. There was no need for small talk — the part of dates you dreaded — because the two of you already knew each other so well.

The possibility of being more than friends crossed his mind, how could it not when your mothers always pestered you about when you were gonna get together? While you’d both blush and make outlandish sounds of disgust at the idea while you were freshmen, by the time you were graduating from high school, the two of you would just scoff and roll your eyes playfully. The idea of being together became more potent when he was overseas, when you were one of the last things he thought about when he would fall asleep, when he’d dig through the care package his mom sent him to find your letter and read it first, how he reread the letters when he couldn’t sleep at night, and how he worried about dying more than anyone else because he never wanted to cause you pain.

“I have no idea,” Benny opted to say instead.

“You and me both,” you sighed.

“You hungry?” he asked after some quiet filled the room.

You nodded and disentangled your finger from his before throwing the covers off of yourself and getting out of bed. “Come on,” you said. You stood before him wearing his KISS t-shirt and a pair of his sweatpants that had the drawstrings pulled tight around your waist to keep them up. “I want some breakfast,” you told him before heading out towards the kitchen.

***

“I’m a- I’m a- I’m a- I’m a human beeeein’ wow! Yeah!” you sang the final notes of Human Being along with Axl Rose in the vicinity of the car the next morning. The disarray at the end of the song sent you and Benny head-banging and drumming on any available surface in the car.

When the music came to an abrupt end, Benny mimicked the sound of the kazoo that plays at the end with his mouth. As soon as he finished you let out a roar of cheers, hoots and hollers as Always There by Greta Van Fleet began to play. The two of you were catching your breaths from the performance you just put on as you were just now getting off the highway and closer to the delicious dessert that was waiting for you just a few minutes away.

“You listen to these kids?” Benny chuckled as he realized what was playing.

“Hell yeah I do,” you nodded, “They’re bringing back rock ’n’ roll for the new generation.”

“The kid is basically doing an impression of Robert Plant.”

“He’s talented, they all are,” you reached for your phone that was connected to the auxiliary cord in Benny’s car and scrolled through the playlist you made for this road trip. “This song is kinda slow, but this,” you said as you clicked on Light My Love, “You can’t tell me you don’t like them after this,” you finished, turning up the volume.

The beginning of the song started off slow but built up to an exhilarating crescendo with the beautifully written chorus that you couldn’t help but sing along to. Although you weren’t as good as Josh, mostly because you were riding the exhilarating wave as you sang, it was cathartic to sing it out loud like this. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Benny nodding along to the beat and drumming his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the music with a small smile tucked into the corner of his lip.

By the time the song had ended, you had pulled up to the restaurant and Benny parked the car. You pulled the box holding the ring from out of your bag and handed it to him. After slipping it in his pocket, the two of you got out of the car and Benny took your hand in his as he led you inside, signalling that the act has begun.

The hostess led you to your table and the room was full of people ranging from families to friends to couples. The chatter in the room was quite loud but the ambience was nice. It was very summery, with blue walls and white benches and wood-finished chairs and tables. Just as you sat across from Benny, he took a moment to admire you in your yellow sundress and how well it worked with the colours in the room.

The meal carried on as normal, you and Benny making small talk as you ate your main courses. Your eyes became fixated on the delicious French toast that passed by you on the way to other tables and you savoured the scent of it as it wafted over to you. You would’ve scarfed down your delicious meal faster if it meant getting the dessert sooner, but you wanted to savour your time with Benny. You always had fun going on these outings with him and when he was deployed and away from you for so long, it taught you to appreciate every moment you two had together. Plus you were usually busy during the week, you with work and Benny with training and his fights, so it was nice to just take things slow and spend time together like you used to, before you became adults and were bogged down by responsibility.

“Let me try some of that,” Benny nodded to your plate before stabbing some home fries with his fork and bringing it to his mouth.

“Hey,” you laughed, “That’s mine.”

“So are you,” he smirked as he chewed.

It was just part of the act so the surrounding customers didn’t catch onto your ruse. When you and Benny dined together, you were a couple until you were far from the place in his car. Still, his words had an effect on you. Maybe it was because you could clearly see the adoration in his eyes from the sunlight that streamed in through the windows as opposed to these important features being dimmed in the low light of a restaurant in the evening. It made it hard to keep his gaze so you playfully poked the back of his hand with your fork before you carried on eating, trying to fight back your grin.

Once your plates were cleared and taken away, you and Benny locked eyes and both silently decided now was the time. You noticed Benny reaching into his pocket and began to look out the window as if you hadn’t noticed what he was doing. People always loved it when it looked like it totally caught you out of left field. Almost like they were in on it before you were so they felt invested in it a little more. You kept him in the corner of your eye though so you knew when to turn back to him.

However, before Benny could get down on one knee, there was a gasp from the other side of the room. You whipped your head over to the source to find a man from one of the tables down on one knee, proposing to his girlfriend who had her hands over her mouth and her eyes blown wide in surprise. She was still sat in her seat and seemingly frozen with shock at the sight in front of her.

The whole restaurant fell silent as they watched and listened to his speech about how much he loved his girlfriend and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. You heard the excited whispers from neighbouring tables and some people even pulled out their phone to snap pictures and even take a video of the event. Tears welled up in the woman’s beautiful eyes as she tried to hold back her sobs. Her hands were shaking as they covered her mouth and her elation was palpable all the way from the other side of the restaurant where you sat, entranced.

You were rendered motionless by a hurt that blossomed in your chest at the realization that you had never felt that kind of joy in your life before. You probably never would. A montage of a number of failed dates, bad relationships, and bland Tinder conversations flashed through your mind and you came to the nasty conclusion you usually came to on lonely nights: you would never know that kind of happiness. You were still happy for the couple though, but couldn’t help but feel jealousy rot it.

Feigning a relationship with Benny was fun and it was a rush being able to pull the wool over everybody’s eyes like that, but at the end of the night when Benny dropped you off at home and you were left to your own devices with the prop of a ring in your hand, you never felt emptier. It was times like that where you wished you listened to your mother more when she told you to focus on finding a boyfriend, but no, you decided to focus on your career instead. You wondered if Benny ever thought anything more about all of this after the fact. Did he lay awake at night replaying everything and thinking about the day all of this would end? Would he be happy about it? Probably because that meant he’d find somebody else who he’d actually love and actually propose to and actually be happy with.

When the lady said yes, you joined in with the clapping that coursed throughout the room for a moment. You watched as he kissed his now fiancée before placing the ring on her finger and then kissed her some more after that. They shared long kisses, kisses you and Benny never dared to do. The quick kisses, sometimes one right after the other was only to deflect any sort of suspicion if it was ever present in the room. Neither of you dared to make a kiss last longer than two seconds at the absolute most. It was easy for him because he didn’t feel anything like that for you. It was just another task on the mission and like a good soldier, he complied.

You turned back to Benny but were unable to meet his eye. “Well there goes that plan,” you shrugged, breathing out a laugh as best as you could.

Maybe you were just too much to deal with, had your standards set too high or were just plain unlovable. Maybe you should give David a call when you get home.

“We can always just order it,” Benny suggested.

“No,” you shook your head, the desire for dessert being overruled by the desire to just crawl into bed now. “Let’s just skip dessert.”

“We drove all this way for it,” he pointed out, “I can pay for it, I made good money from my last fight.”

“It’s fine Benny,” you protested, feeling a slight panic at the first signs of your throat closing up. “Can we just go?” you asked, pushing your chair out.

“What’s going on?” Benny craned his head down to catch your eye with his as he reached out and placed his hand on yours.

Meeting his eye, you realized you were just a placeholder in Benny’s life until someone more permanent came along. When that person did come along, you’d be cast aside and the little that you could offer him — free desserts and an occasional cuddle buddy when you chose to share the same bed — would no longer be enough. It probably wasn’t enough now considering he had the attention of many girls. It would only be a matter of time until you were left alone, reminiscing on these days where you were almost, sort of loved.

“Nothing,” you shook your head, hiding your eyes as they began to fill with tears. “Let’s just go.”

“Okay,” Benny relented, following you as you stood up, “I’ll pay the bill,” he was able to get out before you left the restaurant.

The spring air hit you once you were outside and you took a deep breath of it as you willed yourself to calm down. You waited outside of Benny’s car, pacing as you waited for him to come and unlock the doors. You tried to push out the images of the newly engaged couple but they just kept coming back full-force to taunt you. Even your own brain couldn’t give you a break.

You couldn’t remember the last time you ever cried with joy, let alone when a man made you feel that kind of overwhelming, positive emotion, and maybe you never would. Maybe you were just one of those people meant to be alone for the rest of your life, supporting the people around you in their relationships whenever they needed it. The prime example of what to avoid doing so you don’t end up alone.

Upon the sound of Benny’s car beeping twice, you turned towards it and got into the passenger’s side, avoiding Benny’s gaze as he got into the car, started it, and drove away.

***

The car ride was silent. You wanted to apologize to Benny for making a huge scene there but you couldn’t find it in you to just break the silence. The emotions were still raw and you knew that if you began to talk about it, you would start crying and that was the last thing you wanted to do. Anytime you felt the tears well up, you just took in a deep breath of fresh air that was whipping past your open window as you rode down the highway. You did wish you ordered the damn dessert anyways, you could still smell it and almost taste it on the tip of your tongue.

Benny respected your space and didn’t try and pry anymore, though, he had an idea of what might’ve upset you. At first, Benny was clueless about it, lost to the whirlwind of your sudden emotional change, what began as a great day filled with laughter and smiles, suddenly morphed into one of anger that resulted in your escape from the restaurant at almost lightning speed. You clearly didn’t care enough about the dessert to get this worked up over not getting it for free, so Benny surmised that it must’ve been because of the proposal that you both witnessed.

Benny knew you long enough to see the rollercoaster ride your outlook on love took. After a series of bad relationships he had seen you go through, he didn’t blame you for giving up on love. When you mustered up the hope to go on another date only for it to end the same way time and time again, he watched your hope depleted each time. Benny could tell considering how rare it was now for you to even think about going on a date with someone. He didn’t know where you were finding these guys but none of them were equipped to embrace you in all your beauty, intelligence, and charisma. He thought it was a shame for the rest of the world because they were being deprived of someone really special. Benny felt pride at that though because he was one of the only few people who had the privilege of really knowing you.

You had been so busy looking everywhere else for love that you didn’t even bother looking right in front of you. It was Benny who sat across from you time and time again, wining and dining you. Sure, it may have been an elaborate plan to get some free dessert, but it didn’t make the time spent with you any less enjoyable or memorable. He always looked forward to these meals with you because seeing you happy made him happy. Knowing he was the reason for your happiness made him overjoyed. Everything else may have been just a means to an end but the happiness he felt when he was with you was as real as anything. Neither of you expressed making this relationship something more serious but did that mean it was totally out of the question?

Pulling up to your apartment building, Benny put the car in park and the two of you sat there in silence, unsure of where to go from here. He watched you from the corner of his eye and noticed you were toying with the end of your dress, avoiding even turning in his direction.

“Do you want me to go up with you?” he finally asked.

You shook your head and began reaching for the door handle. “I’ll see you later,” you spoke quickly as you got out.

Benny began to call out your name but you closed the door and hurried towards your apartment building. He let out a sigh, leaning back in his seat as he watched the front door of the building, hoping you would come back out and invite him upstairs.

After a couple of minutes, Benny decided you weren’t coming back. Reluctantly, he put the car in drive and was on his way with just the packed up French toast in the backseat keeping him company.

***

It was Friday Night Fight Night and Benny was trying to get himself in the right mindset in the locker room with Will by his side. However, he couldn’t stop checking the time when he first noticed you were running late. You always showed up at least half an hour early to his fights to help him get ready, but tonight you were nowhere to be found. He had tried texting you and calling you but you hadn’t responded. Will had taken Benny’s phone from his hand about fifteen minutes ago and locked it in his locker, preventing him from looking at it again.

There had been a significant decline in the conversation between the two of you since Sunday and Benny didn’t exactly know what to make of it. He began to think he did something wrong but when he thought it through, he couldn’t find anything that he was at fault for. All he knew was that this had been the most miserable week of his life. He contemplated going to your apartment to check on you but he had already bombarded you with text messages and a few calls that, for the most part, went unanswered. A lot of them were sent out of fear because he didn’t know how to make this better. He knew you were upset because of the proposal you both saw and probably beating yourself up over yourself in relation to it, but he didn’t know why you were ignoring him because of it.

You guys hadn’t gone this long without consistently speaking to each other ever since he was deployed. Your absence stung a lot more now and it was for reasons that he had to force himself to come to terms with. It was the same reason why he missed you most out of everyone while he was overseas and why you were first on his list of people to see when he got back. It was why he would cancel dates with other women when the both of you previously decided to go out for dinner somewhere, and it was why he was hurt that you didn’t show up tonight.

“You ready for this?” Will asked him, bringing him back to the present moment.

Standing up from the bench, Benny nodded firmly, “Hell yeah.”

Will followed him as he made his way through the corridor and to the ring. Benny tried to clear his mind as he usually did during this walk but it was always interrupted by thoughts of you and what you usually said to get his head in the game. He needed to see you after this.

As his name began to be announced over the speakers, Benny headed straight towards the ring as the crowd lavished him with cheers and claps. He kept his eyes forward, ready to get this over with.

Benny got into the ring after taking off his shirt and handing it to Will, ignoring the few pats on his shoulders from people in the crowd on his walk over. Benny eyed his opponent who stood opposite him as he bounced around on the balls of his feet to loosen himself up. All that mattered right now was this guy in front of him. Once this was done — no matter how it ended — he could go and see you. There was no way your friendship was just gonna fade off into nothingness.

At the sound of the bell, Benny took a swing and landed the first hit on his opponent, stunning him. Benny got a few more hits in before his opponent retaliated with a kick to his ribs. He could hear Will cheering him on and coaching him through the uproar of the crowd. Benny regained his momentum as he took Will’s advice and created some distance between him and his opponent to gather himself again. Benny took a swing but missed, allowing his opponent the opportunity to strike him in the face. This was gonna be a long fight.

***

It was almost eleven at night when Benny showed up to your door. It would’ve been earlier but he had to stop by his house first. There was a slim chance that you were asleep because Benny had always known you to be a night owl, especially on fight night. You had been to so many of his fights that your body was accustomed to staying up later on Fridays just like his was, purely out of routine.

Benny knocked on your door for the third time in five minutes, “Come on, I know you’re in there,” he called through the wood separating the two of you.

He was met with silence again and it made Benny pace a few steps back and forth a few inches from your door. Finally, in the silence of the hallway, the sound of your door unlocking echoed and made Benny immediately turn towards you. You opened the door just a crack and through the sliver of the opening, he saw your form and your red eyes peering up at him.

Benny let out a sigh, finally feeling like he made some progress. “I can’t believe you didn’t come to my fight, dick,” he kept his tone light, trying to break the ice.

“I didn’t think it was a good idea,” you replied meekly, your eyes falling from his.

“Why not?” he challenged, brows furrowing in confusion.

You shook your head, “I don’t think we should do this anymore.”

Benny froze in place as his heart sank, “Not do what?” he asked quietly. “Not do what?” he repeated louder when you didn’t answer.

“The dinners, the fake proposals, the…”

“The what?” he asked, leaning against the door with one arm to make sure you didn’t close it in his face. “Our friendship?”

You were silent and he watched as your eyes close tightly, a tell-tale sign that you couldn’t hold back the tears anymore, confirming his guess was right.

He was as stunned as his opponent was earlier tonight. “No,” he shook his head, “No fucking way!” he protested which earned him some calls from down the hall telling him to shut the fuck up! “Can you just talk to me? What’s going on?”

“I can’t keep being friends with you, Ben,” you choked out.

“Why not?” he felt his chest constricting and his eyes beginning to well up but he forced the tears back, “You at least owe me that if you’re gonna say something like that.” You opened your mouth to speak but no words came out as more tears materialized in your eyes. “Why can’t you talk to me like you did a few days ago?” Benny voice was raising but it was because the pain propelled him to do so. He just realized that he wanted you and now you were shutting him out in a way you never have before.

A door a couple apartments down unlatched hastily before it was ripped open to reveal a man in his mid-40s in his pyjamas looking down the hall towards Benny who was the source of the noise. “Hey bud, do you mind shutting the fuck up?”

Benny’s eyes locked in on him like crosshairs, “Hey, fuck you man,” he spat, prepared to approach him before he felt you grab his arm and pull him into your apartment.

You shut and locked the door before looking at Benny with a newfound fire in your glassy eyes, “You can’t just start fights with random people, Ben.”

“What the fuck is this?” he breathed, the hurt unmasking from the anger and coming back full force. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

“It’s your name,” you replied before your eyes caught sight of the plastic bag in his hand. “What’s that?” you nodded towards it.

Benny looked down at the bag before sighing and placing it onto your coffee table. “It’s the dessert from the restaurant,” he answered, “I kept it in my freezer — the restaurant said it would be okay to do that. I bought it before we left the restaurant,” he informed you. "You can wait for it to thaw out and then heat it up in the oven,” he explained heading towards the door. “I hope you like it.”

“Don’t go,” you conceded just as he turned the doorknob to open your door.

He turned to you to find the fire in your eyes softened. “We’re not friends anymore so I shouldn’t really be in your apartment.”

You didn’t know what to say, you just sat down on the couch, deflated. “Don’t make it sound so bad,” you sighed.

“How am I supposed to make it sound good?” he challenged with a humourless laugh.

You shook your head and shrugged, “I don’t know,” you answered quietly, not meeting his eye. You bought a hand up to your face to hide your eyes that were threatening to spill the tears they held.

Benny’s heart and resolve softened as he stepped closer to you and knelt down in front of you, getting you to meet his eye. Your cheeks were stained with tears and Benny had no problem wiping them away with his thumbs. Your hand fell back to your side as Benny took hold of your jaw in both of his hands, carrying the weight of your head.

His big blue eyes held that familiar wounded puppy dog look and you had stopped trying to decipher whether he did it on purpose or not a long time ago. He would use it when you said no to things like driving two hours for tiramisu to try and sway you the other way, but you couldn’t fathom to think that you’d done real damage this time. You had never been this close to Benny to notice just how icy blue his eyes were, but they held so much warmth.

Your foreheads had found their way to each other and your heart leapt in your chest at the idea of kissing him but you couldn’t do it. You were gonna lose him for good, you had come to that conclusion when you realized Benny was really why you were so upset that day. You realized that these meals you’d go out for were so special because Benny was on the other side of that table. You couldn’t imagine doing something like this with anyone else. The only time you had fun when someone else was sitting opposite you at the table was when that person was Benny. He knew you through and through and still stuck around for all of it with no complaints.

But he would never want anything more with you. He had seen first hand how disastrous you were at love and he wouldn’t fake proposals left right and centre with someone who he actually saw a future with. When you thought about the day Benny would find someone and these breakfasts, lunches, and dinners would come to an end, you thought that losing your friend in that way was what caused you pain but during your time away from Benny, you realized it was a lot deeper than that.

“Why are you crying?” he whispered to you. Your face was dry now but Benny’s thumbs still kept caressing the skin of your cheeks.

Your eyes couldn’t move up from his lips to meet his gaze. You were equal parts transfixed and terrified of being found out. Benny’s body so close to yours sent shockwaves down your entire body and against the rational part of your brain, you reached up and let your fingers gently comb through his beard. “I don’t want to lose you,” you confessed quietly.

“You won’t,” he promised.

“You don’t even know what I’m gonna say,” you let out a small breath of a laugh.

Benny let a small smile play on the corner of his lips to make you feel more at ease, “So say it,” he urged you softly as he let the end of his nose nudge against yours.

In the silence, Benny took the chance to brush some of your hair back and behind your ear so he could see your eyes. You finally looked up at him and he felt his heart stutter in his chest.

“I can’t,” you sighed, shaking your head against his.

“I don’t want to be just friends anymore,” he admitted immediately after.

You looked into Benny’s eyes and his heart had never beat faster in his life than in this moment. Your gaze softened and he felt you relax in his hold, telling him that what he assumed you wanted to tell him, was right. He didn’t need anymore than that.

Benny was gentle in the way he leaned in closer to you and how he let his lips press against yours. When you would kiss briefly in front of an audience it didn’t allow Benny the privilege to savour the warmth of you pressed against him. It certainly didn’t give you enough time to slide your hands towards the back of his head and into his hair as you kissed him back. The action stole a breath from Benny just as you pulled away, your hands in his hair keeping him close to you.

He opened his eyes to see you already looking at him with a small smile on your lips now. It made him breathe out a laugh and it left behind a grin on his face. “Don’t ever hide from me again,” he told you softly.

You nodded, your smile faltering slightly, “Are you sure about this?”

“This week sucked,” he told you, “I haven’t missed you this much since I was deployed,” he confessed as he caressed your cheek, “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

“I missed you too, Benny,” you confessed, running a hand along his cheek, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he kissed your forehead.

“I won’t,” you promised, your eyes leaving his for a moment before returning. “You think the French toast thawed out enough?”

Benny chuckled, “I think so. You hungry?”

You nodded in response and Benny was hoisting you off of the couch and leading you to the kitchen to finally enjoy this dessert together.

#benny miller #benny miller imagine #triple frontier #triple frontier imagine #garrett hedlund #garrett hedlund imagine

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theshireisburning-so-mordoritis · 2 years

Note

Hi! I saw your 12 days of Christmas post and could I get #5 (the secret Santa one) with Will Miller and gn!reader please? 🤗💖

Photographs

Pairing: Will Miller x GN!Reader

Christmas Prompt #5 - Secret Santa present that makes one of us realise there's feelings.

Warnings: None except for language I guess. This is all fluff.

A/N: I'm sorry this is so late! Silly me decided it would be a good idea to move house right before christmas with 2 small kids so I have had zero time to write, but I hope you like it!

He's not sure who made this their tradition. He doesn't even remember whose idea it was in the first place - maybe yours? Could have been Benny's - the two of you are just as bad as each other when it comes to the holidays.

It's Secret Santa and ugly sweaters on christmas eve - cold beers in your hands and way too many snacks spread across the coffee table. It's you singing along to the cheesy classics and making him join in as you decorate the tree whilst Santiago bakes cookies and Benny steals them and Frankie yells at them to shut the fuck up because their bitching is distracting him trying to prep for Christmas dinner.

To an outsider it's probably a weird sight - these five war ravaged soldiers sipping rum punched cocoa when everything's done and arguing over what's the best Christmas movie (you had said Muppets Christmas carol with such conviction that he'd almost choked on his cocoa trying to hide his laugh.)

But they need this - this is comfort and familiarity and home when they're not quite sure where that is anymore because half their life has been spent jumping in and out of countries. Will had never really been one for traditions before but this one makes him happy - makes him feel like he can be himself instead of the golden war hero his parents expect him to be around the holidays as they drag him and Benny around the neighbours' many parties.

And he likes that he gets to see you in all your holiday glory - fake snow from the tree caught in your hair and the glow of the lights shining in your eyes. The smile you get when you unwrap the one gift you're allowed to open on Christmas eve from one of them and laughter bubbles past your lips as you ask how did you know, like they don't know you better than they know themselves. Especially Will.

He likes the way you're warm beside him on the couch at the end of the night - shoulder pressed tight to his, your head beginning to fall in his direction as sleep tugs at you and when the clock chimes midnight you whisper a faint Merry Christmas Will before finally dozing off against him.

At first he'd thought that had all been a part of the tradition - the way he discovered all these new things he suddenly likes - until he had realized that maybe instead he just liked you.

"Happy Christmas Eve fuckers!"

That's all the warning you get before you're barrelled into, a poor unsuspecting victim snatched up tight in one of Benny's bone crushing hugs the second he bursts through the door with a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a case of beer in the other .

He nearly lifts you off your feet until a warm voice intervenes behind him, the honeyed drawl of it making something in your chest flicker like the crystal lights wrapped around the tree.

"Jesus Benny, put Knives down before you crack a rib, I'm not saving you if they decide to kick your stupid ass."

The younger Miller's grip tightens for just a moment - long enough to dramatically plant a sloppy kiss on your cheek as he beams at you before winking at his brother. "Nah they wouldn't do that, they love me too much."

You scoff then, pinching his side and snickering when he yelps. "Don't be so sure about that Benjamin. I'll definitely kick your ass if you drop any of that booze, go put it in the kitchen."

"So fucking mean." He pouts - ducking away with a burst of laughter and his arms up in surrender when you go to pinch him again. "I'm going!"

You turn then to the presence behind you - to Will in all of his sunshine gold handsome glory. He's watching you with a soft, amused smile, the kind that makes your heart flip flop and your tongue not quite work right as you take a small shuddering breath and say,

"Hey there Captain."

His grin widens - ocean blue eyes twinkling as he pushes away from the wall to reach for you and pull you into a sweet hug - voice dropping to something low and syrupy.

"Hey Knives."

"So when are you two gonna stop acting like lovesick, pining teenagers and get your shit together?"

"Oh, c'mon Pope not this again, we're just friends."

"Yeah sure - so how come you don't look at me or Fish like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you're thinking about climbing us like a tree."

"Frankie!"

He’s nervous. His fingers fiddling with the shiny curls of ribbon spilling from the gift on his lap and it’s so fucking ridiculous - practically laughable as he shakes his head softly at himself so no one else notices. Will’s been in some dangerous positions, he’s stained with war - a master of remaining collected in life or death situations - yet it’s the neatly packed square that Santi’s passing over to you that rocks him?

God he’s pathetic.

He’d got that feeling he gets whenever he sees you when he’d drawn your name from the ratty old cap - begrudgingly offered up by Fish at Benny’s demand - like a sparkler being ignited in his stomach, a burst of warmth and crackling joy until it occurred to him he had no fucking idea whatsoever about what to get you. It’s not that he doesn’t know you, because truthfully there’s no one that Will knows better.

You’re his best friend - he’s seen every piece of you, peeled each and everyone of your layers back when you’ve allowed it and learned all the odd little parts that make you who you are. When it had finally come to him - a perfect gift - he hadn’t thought of how it might look, that he was practically placing the way he feels right into your hands. All he’d thought about was your face. Your smile. The ache within him to see the way you light up so damn sweet when something delights you.

And as he lifts his head and finds you watching him , the soft twitch of your lips as his own are pulled into a sheepish grin - he thinks maybe it’s finally time.

You don’t know why you and the guys keep doing secret Santa when you can tell by looking at the wrapping exactly who it’s from.

The present on your lap is pristine - neat edges and sharp lines, the design of the paper minimalistic - and you immediately know it’s from Will. The one Benny is currently shaking is a patchwork of paper, little pieces added when not enough was cut off to begin with - definitely Frankie. Will’s fingers are drumming on a work of art, swirls of ribbon elegantly pouring over the edge and none of you have the patience for that kind of thing besides Santiago. Which leaves the gift wrapped in novelty paper beneath a whole layer of tape in Pope’s hand, a little stunt Benny loves to pull to irritate his recipient as he watches on with unrestrained glee.

But even if you didn’t know their handiwork as well as you do, there’s no mistaking who yours is from and your heart pounds as your trembling fingers flip slowly flip through the weighted pages of a stunning scrapbook. He’s given you hundreds of memories you’d almost forgotten - a disbelieving laugh bubbling from your throat as you trace photographs you hadn’t seen in years and some you didn’t even know existed.

There’s your first night out as a team and the time you talked Santi into bungee jumping with you and Will had laughed his ass off as the normally fearless soldier had screamed the entire way down then up then down again. A close up photo of just you from when you’d all gone to the zoo and you’d had the chance to feed one of the raccoons, the camera focused on your ecstatic face more than the animal clinging to your shirt.

And then you turn the page and there’s you and Will in the centre and you can’t help the way your mouth parts on a wide grin. It’s from the time Frankie had dragged you on a fishing trip and thanks to too many beers and a notorious talent for being clumsy, you’d fell out of the boat and into the water.

You remember the panic - the brief burst of fear in your drink-addled head that you might drown before Will had shouted, his voice strained with the effort not to laugh, that you could just stand up. Your cheeks had grown warm with the embarrassment and when the oldest Miller attempted to valiantly come to your rescue and offered you a hand back into the boat rather than accept it, you had pulled him in with you.

The photo shows the two of you after he’d grabbed you and splashed you until you begged for mercy, water streaming down your faces in rivulets and his arm slung over your shoulders, pulling you tight into the warmth of his body as he sun beats down on you. You’re shielding your eyes and beaming at the camera and Will.. Will is looking at you. The softest smile on his lips and the light glinting off his golden hair and the unmistakable gleam in his eyes.

When you swallow hard and look up from the book, sea-glass blue eyes are already on you. His own present is half opened, his grip almost white-knuckled in the crisp paper but despite the tension within him, that look is there too - the one from the photo, the one that you know all too well because you’ve caught yourself looking at him that way too many times to count.

You watch him and he watches you - oblivious to the noises of tearing paper and the snap of tape and the chuckles and cheers of your friends. His tongue darts out and over the full pillow of his lower lip - one of his nervous gestures - and you exhale shakily. It feels like you can’t take a proper breath. Like your heart is bunched up somewhere in your neck, pulsing rapidly in your throat, the warmth in your gut is making you dizzy and when you suddenly stand the room spins to the point you have to take a moment to steady yourself before you can gasp out.

“Back in a minute - I need another drink.”

The bottle cap barely has a chance to clatter to the kitchen surface when he follows.

He finds you with your back turned to the door, your hands firmly planted on the counter top as your frame heaves with each deep breath you force through your clenched lungs and it’s the gentle rumble of your name that makes you jump and whirl round to face him. Even now, when your brain is all scrambled like eggs and you feel like you’re in and out of focus, he still takes your breath away. Even with his features streaked with anxiety, the rare hint of vulnerability when he roughly rubs the back of his neck as he searches for something to say in the stretched out silence.

And because you’ve never done well with silence you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. You were supposed to make a joke, that’s what you’d had in mind - something to ease the rising tension winding tight around you both - but instead something entirely different slips out.

“Do you love me Will?”

He jerks like it’s startled him - like he’s expected a more hesitant approach into this instead of you diving in head first - and you can’t blame him, you’ve shocked yourself too. Your eyes growing wide when you realise you've just said something you can never take back to your best friend. There’s another painful beat of silence, nothing but the whir of the refrigerator buzzing in your ears and his gaze searing into you like he’s weighing his options - the risk of his next words before he drops his head and seems to prepare himself for the worst.

“Yeah - I do.” He murmurs.

You can’t help it - the aching smile that splits across your face as something pure and light and oh so warm fizzes in your chest. “Oh.” You breathe. And despite your sudden lack of vocabulary the giddiness in your tone is enough to make his head snap back up.

When he sees your smile his own breaks out - the nervousness melting from his face into something charming and boyish and as he softly steps towards you, you're already reaching for him, fingers curling in the well-worn fabric of his hoodie to tug him against you.

“I love you too.” You whisper and then Will’s mouth is on yours - the soft scratch of his beard brushing against your face as his tongue slips past your lips to curl around yours and he presses you back into the counter with his strong body.

It’s everything you’d always imagined - your hands buried in the silken strands of his hair as he kisses you sweet and slow before you nip at his lip and a deep groan rumbles up from his chest. He burns hungry then, fingers snatching at your jaw and scraping down your side to wind in your shirt and just when you think he’s going to attempt to utterly consume you, to wreck you right here against a counter full of snowflake decorated cookies and gingerbread people, you hear a smug cough from somewhere behind you.

You groan lightly, screwing your eyes shut like if you squeeze them tight enough the owners of the faint snickers you can hear will magically disappear but as Will grins against you, you know there’s no chance in hell of that happening. You open your eyes and peer over Will’s shoulder, raising an unimpressed brow when you find all three of them standing in the doorway - a smug Pope leaning against the frame with folded arms, Benny beside him with a cheshire cat grin and Frankie behind him chuckling softly.

“Not a fucking word Garcia.” You threaten, warmth blooming in your cheeks when your voice comes out rougher than usual and Pope’s eyes glint cheekily.

“I wasn’t going to say anything.” He quips, a slow, deepening smirk spreading over his face before he adds. “Except that I called it, happy Christmas lovebirds.”

You grumble “asshole” when the three of them melt away from the door to give you some privacy and Will chuckles, his lips brushing over your temple as he folds you in his arms and pulls you close.

“So,” He husks. “After we’re done here you gonna let me take you out on a date?”

His shy smile when you blink at him makes something sweet burst in your chest and you can’t resist pressing your mouth to the sharp edge of his jaw, sweeping kisses along it before you reach his lips and linger there longer than you intended. You’re both a little breathless when you finally pull away, lips a little bruised from the eagerness of your joint attentions.

“It depends.” You tease, cheeks sore from the stretch of your grin and your heart fluttering like a bird in your chest. “What have you got in mind Miller?”

Main Taglist: @autumnleaves1991-blog @ecuadorlady @readsalot73 @acourtofsnakes @justanotherblonde23 @tiffanyblew @alexmarie29 @simsiddy @dihra-vesa @gingerbreadandpaper @sleep-tight1 @prettylilhalforc @mstgsmy @wildmoonflower

Christmas Taglist: @aellynera

#will miller x reader #will miller x gender neutral reader #will miller x you #william ironhead miller x reader #william ironhead miller #triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier fanfiction #will ironhead miller #charlie hunnam #charlie hunnam character fanfiction

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dailyreverie · 2 years

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#29 for 🍑

By the fire

A/N: MAN OH MAN this is soft Santi at its finest. I was so happy to see your request, and knowing your love for the rest of the TF boys of course I had to include them! I really hope you like it 😊

29. “I just want to cuddle by the fire for a while.”

🎃FALL PROMPTS 🍂

Pairing: Santiago Garcia x reader

Word count: 686 words

Warnings: alcohol consumption, drunk people, a few swear words.

It is known that with the exact dose of alcohol in his system, Santiago gets even more touchy than usual. It starts with his hand looking for yours, even though you are sitting right next to each other, with his fingers locking with yours to pull your hand over to his lap. After that, it progresses; his arm around your shoulder, his hand holding your thigh, his fingers threading your hair, all that until you somehow end up sitting on his lap.

And the thing is, he is subtle. No one even bats an eye at you or takes a second look as you get closer and closer - or maybe it is that they all expect it -, with the fire burning in front of you, and the laughter and voices filling the atmosphere, Santiago and you merge into the background as everyone else keeps talking and laughing and drinking.

Enough apple cider ("With some damn whiskey, come on!", as Benny had said earlier) has entered both of your bodies just in an attempt to keep you warm, and looking at the way the rest of the boys are talking, you are sure they had plenty of the drink too. You want to blame the cold, just to name a culprit outside of your circle, because blaming Frankie for renting the cabin, or Will for suggesting the drink, was a bit too harsh.

It is that same cold that makes Santi's lips chase your skin, kissing your shoulder and neck every few minutes as if you needed a reminder that he is there, right behind you with a tight hold around your waist. Those kisses never fail to make you turn back to look at him, just to find him lost in the conversation with a content smile on his lips.

"Alright, I'm heading in," Frankie is the first one to call it a night, "I can't handle this cold anymore."

"Let's all go inside, we can keep it going there," Will suggests, with Benny following right behind him.

It is not a bad idea, not at all, especially when you are freezing yourself, but as you try to stand up Santi's arms tighten around you not letting you move. "Wait wait wait, princesa, wait." He mumbles quickly against your ear.

His hooded eyes and guilty smile are the first indicators of why he's not moving, only making you smirk.

"We'll be right there, guys," Santi announces.

"You are drunk." You snicker a bit once they are far enough, turning to look at Santiago.

"No! No, I just- I just want to cuddle by the fire for a while." He shakes his head, trying to be subtle about how everything around him is beginning to feel blurry.

"I don't believe you." You state with a serious face, making him open his eyes to meet yours. "Did you really get that drunk that you can't even walk back in?"

He lets out a deep chuckle, vibrating against your back as he hides his face in embarrassment. "Kinda."

"I can't believe you, Garcia! I thought you could handle your alcohol better than this." You laugh with him, cuddling deeper into his chest and burrowing your head in the crook of his neck. He smells like fire and wood, like whiskey and cider and spices; you could get addicted to the way he feels right then, to the way you feel so warm in his arms while knowing they are the ones keeping you safe from the cold.

"It's the age, mi amor," Santi murmurs into your hair, slurring every syllable and making you laugh even more. He pokes your side, a warning to stop your child-like mockings. "Cálla!" [Shut it!] Santi complains, but the smile that plays on his lips gives away how much he enjoys hearing you laughing, even if it is at him.

"Alright, alright. I won't say anything."

Santiago kisses the top of your head again, pulling you closer to him, and he lets out a sigh. In between the fire and Santi, the cold air seems to be long gone and you let yourself close your eyes, sinking deeper and deeper in his arms.

"Do you want me to bring anything? A blanket? Some food?" You ask after a few minutes.

"No, I'm fine. This is all I need."

🍂🍂🍂

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#santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia x you #santiago garcia imagine #santiago garcia fluff #santiago garcia fic #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #santiago garcia fanfiction #santiago garcia headcanon #triple frontier fanfiction

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foli-vora · 3 years

Text

more than words - pt.1

A/N: I’ve had this in my head for forever and a half so it feels good to finally sort my thoughts and random notes out. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: The one person who you thought would be happy for you finally getting with someone decent was your best friend. After all, he had set you both up. Who would’ve thought he’d be the reason it all falls apart?

Pairing: best friend!Benny Miller/f!reader, Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/f!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, mentions of sexual acts/sexual refences (no smut yet but it’s coming so this is strictly 18+)

pt.2 / pt.3 / pt.4 / pt.5 / pt.6

+++

Wednesday nights were pizza nights. A rule established in the early stages of your friendship with Benjamin Miller – a loud mouth, golden hearted ex-spec ops mess of a human being. A chance meeting one stormy day on the freeway, led to something you weren’t expecting – a friendship, and a solid one at that.

“– she damn near tried to suck the life out of me!”

“Jesus Ben, there are kids a table over.”

“So? They shouldn’t be eavesdroppin’ on conversations that don’t concern them.” He grins lopsidedly at your scowl of disapproval, ripping off a mouthful of pizza and humming as he chews it, head swaying to the faint music playing behind the bar. “You’re payin’, by the way.”

You snort quietly, “Don’t I always?”

He recoils, blinking in playful surprise. “Excuse you? I paid last…” he trails off, eyes rolling to the wall as he thinks but a frown soon pinches his brows. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I love you and I appreciate you.”

You laugh quietly, shaking your head as you signal for another round. “Anyways, reverting to our previous topic before you got carried away with your blowjob story.”

He makes a noise, snapping his fingers as he tries to rush chewing and swallowing his mouthful. “So,” he starts, “I’ve got a friend…”

You groan immediately, letting your head lull back. “Ben –”

This wasn’t anything new. Benny took it as his own personal mission to fix you up with anyone he thought could give you a good time and treat you well. Friends, colleagues, Hell – even his brother at one point. Will was lovely, by all means, but not your type. Both you and Will had agreed you were not a match in the slightest early in the evening, enjoyed a night of beer and pool, and then went your separate ways.

Although, now that you thought about it, Ben hadn’t mentioned setting you up with anyone for a long while. Not since before his mysterious trip.

You still didn’t know anything about it, other than he and some old work friends went on an apparent ‘vacation’. It was more than that – you knew it, and he knew you knew it, but you didn’t push the topic. Instead of interrogating him, forcing question after question on him, you let it go, sensing it was something he really didn’t want to talk about.

He had returned from that trip a few months ago, heavy with exhaustion and usually bright eyes dull and weary. You tucked him into your bed, and left him. He slept for hours. It wasn’t until much later that evening that you crept in to see how he was doing, and found him thrashing silently in the sheets, sweaty and incoherently mumbling, face pinched and puckered in pain. You didn’t wake him. Instead, you knelt beside the bed, softly stroking along his forehead until his erratic movements and breathing calmed. You didn’t bring it up.

“I know, I know,” he threw his hands up in defence with a small grin, “but I think you’ll like this one.”

“That’s what you always say.”

“No, I mean it this time. He’s a real good guy – one of my closest. I think you guys would really hit it off. I haven’t tried to set you up before because he was with the chick but she upped and left him alone with the baby and –”

“Sorry, what?”

“What?”

“He has a baby? Like a… like a child?”

Benny frowns defensively, “You’ve always said you want kids!”

“It’s still a huge commitment, Ben.”

“Jesus, I’m not walking you down the aisle! Just meet him and see where it goes. If it ends in some good sex, you say ‘thank you Ben’ and we move on. And if it ends in something more, you guys take it slow and buy me wings as a thank you.” He shrugs, looking thoroughly impressed with himself, and reaches for his beer, polishing it off in one swig.

“And what if it ends in bad sex?” You challenge, crossing your arms on the table and leaning forward to eye him critically.

He scoffs, “Woman please. I know my brothers. You’ll be in good hands.”

You take a moment to thank the waitress as she stops at your table with your beers. She lingers just a little on passing Ben his, an act he didn’t miss as he shoots her a wink and a honeyed, thanks sugar. She smiles, cheeks flooding with colour before she turns and waltzes off towards other customers, swinging her hips as she goes.

You’re expressionless when he finally turns back to you, “Sugar?”

“Shut your mouth.”

Façade cracking, a snicker falls past your lip and you chuckle. “Alright,” you concede, “you’ve got my interest. What’s his name?”

“Fish.”

… what?

“Come again?”

“Francisco – we call him Fish. Catfish, actually.”

“Your age?”

“Bit older.”

You sigh deeply, rolling your head on your shoulders in thought. You were curious, no doubt about it. Despite never being able to make anything last long-term out of the list of men Benny had set you up with, none of them were bad guys. They were all kind, funny and incredibly respectful. One great thing about Benjamin Miller was that he had an impeccable taste in character.

“I don’t know, Ben –”

He slips his phone from his pocket and swipes away at his screen before wordlessly handing you the device. It was a photo, taken from one of Benny’s many weekend trips into the wilderness. Your eyes are dragged from the incredible background of snow peaked mountains and lush green forests to the man standing beside Benny, tucked under his arm. Average build and height, a well-loved trucker cap hiding dark hair. Warm brown eyes, crinkled from a large dimpled grin between dark patched facial hair.

Benny, seeing the sudden spark of interest, grins around his beer bottle. “So, I’ll slip him your number?”

You tighten your jaw and hand his phone back, sniffing impassively as you reach for your beer. “If it means you’ll leave me alone, then fine.” You mutter coolly, ignoring his quiet chuckle.

“Wait, wait – you have a best friend and it’s not one of us? I’m cut, Benny. Cut real deep.” Santiago Garcia was curious, to say the least. For years, he had known the youngest Miller and he had never mentioned anyone beyond their little circle or their families. “She cute?”

Benny huffs a chuckle, leaning across the pool table and lining up the final ball. “Hell yeah, she’s cute.”

“Where you been hiding her?”

“She moved away – only came back late last year.”

Santi hums, “Ironhead – she cute?”

Will half smiles, dragging his attention away from the pool table to shrug. “She’s alright.”

His bait works. Benny snaps it up – hook, line and sinker. He stands abruptly from his shot, cue just skimming the white ball, and points an angry finger in his brother’s direction, “I won’t take that shit. She’s a damn angel and you know it.”

Will chuckles to himself before returning his attention to Santi. “Yeah, she’s cute. Show ‘em.”

Benny briefly steps away from the pool table, opens his phone and brings up your Instagram profile, throwing it to Pope and letting him scroll through your feed.

“How come you’ve met her and we haven’t?” Pope aims his question at the older Miller brother, currently bent over the table and pocketing the black ball.

He half shrugs, straightening. “He set us up. It didn’t work out.”

Santi’s face puckers into a teasing glower, and he pouts at the younger Miller. “So, what? You set everyone else up and just leave me to die alone? What’s that about, Benjamin?”

Benny holds his arms out in obvious exaggeration, gesturing deliberately to himself. “You’ve got me.”

Frankie quietly sips his beer and watches in fond amusement, content to stay in the background and away from the bickering. Like Santi, his interest had been piqued but he was somewhat nervous about the situation. He already had feelings of apprehension returning to the dating scene after the shit show of a year he’d had, and those feelings tripled when it came to potentially dating someone close to one of his longest friends. He hadn’t dated in years. He was rusty. What if he disappointed you and Benny ended up kicking his ass? It could get messy real quick.

“I don’t know, man.” He finally pipes up, crossing his arms comfortably across his torso and reclining in the bar stool after peaking over Santi’s shoulder and at the screen he was lazily scrolling through. Ha. Way out of his league. “This kinda shit never works.”

“You sayin’ she’s not good enough for you?”

Frankie shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “You know I’m not.”

“Sounds like you are.”

“Quite the opposite.”

“I’ll take his spot. Give me her number.” Santi holds a hold out, clicking his fingers impatiently when Benny merely rolls his eyes. Pope grins, settling back into his seat and elbowing Frankie softly. “I think you should go for it, man. She seems great, and you need to get back out there.”

“I can’t, I’ve got Mena –”

“And Mena’s got her tío. Go for it. You’re just looking for excuses – no seas cobarde.”

Frankie chews on his lip as he gives it a bit of thought, wondering what’s the worst possible case scenario that could come from it. A busted lip? His self-image in ruins? Scared off from dating for the rest of his life? All things he could live with.

“… alright.”

Immediately, Benny perks up from setting the pool table with a large grin. “Yeah?”

Fish sighs, long and drawn out as Pope playfully pokes his side. “Yeah. Give me her number, I’ll message her now.” Before he freaks and changes his mind.

Maybe he was just thinking too much. What’s the worst that could happen?

Tags: @anu-simps

#francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x you #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x f!reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales #francisco morales #benny miller x reader #benny miller #triple frontier #pedro pascal x reader

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thefloorisbalaclava · 3 years

Note

Hello lovely! So a friend and I have been talking about Frankie lately and how damn adorable it would be if he were his kids little league baseball coach. Like, he passes down his old mitt to them from high school days (even though it’s comically too big for them) because it gave him good luck, and of course all the guys would come to support them (possibly Benny or Santi even trying to hit on the single moms because of course they would LOL) could possibly be in the neighbor!frankie universe with Gabi in their future some time? We just thought you’d be perfect to write these random ideas into something beautiful. If you have time or even like the idea of course!! ❤️❤️❤️

I hope you don’t mind me putting this in the mechanic!frankie AU! I think it’s a great way for reader and Frankie to bond a little more!

A/N: You run into your favorite mechanic while out running errands.

[mechanic!frankie masterlist]

You wandered aimlessly down the aisle of the store, randomly grabbing a box of cereal to throw into your cart as you whistled along to the song playing in your ear. As you rounded the corner, you ran into someone else’s cart. You quickly removed your earbuds to apologize.

“Oh! I am so- Frankie?!” It came out a little louder than you expected, making a few heads turn.

“I thought I was Frankie,” he joked and you rolled your eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Just picking up a few things.” You looked at his cart. “You look like you’re picking up enough to feed a small army.”

“I kinda am.” He held his jacket open to show you his baseball jersey. “Got a game tonight and we’re gonna have a party after--win or lose. You’d be surprised how much those kids can eat.”

“Wait, are you telling me you coach little league?”

“I do, yeah.” He smiled proudly. “I used my own money to get the league started. I buy the uniforms and everything.”

“You didn’t tell me this last night.”

“Well, I was focused on other things,” he said and you giggled like a schoolgirl. “I had fun.”

“Me too and the food was delicious. Remember, next time I’m cooking for you,” you told him.

“Are you doing anything later?” he asked.

“Oh, wow, trying to get me to cook for you already, huh?” you teased.

“No,” he chuckled, “I was wondering if you’d like to come out and watch the game. Cheer us on a little.”

“I’ll be there. Where is it?” you asked and he told you. “Coach Frankie...it fits you.”

“Thanks.” He stood there silently for a moment. “Why is it always so hard to say goodbye to you?”

“I was just wondering the same thing. How about this? We won’t say goodbye just...see you later.”

“Okay then. See you later.”

“See ya, Coach Frankie.” You winked and pushed your cart past him and he watched until you were out of sight.

It was a nice day out so you decided to walk. The game was already underway by the time you got there, and you didn’t know it but Frankie had been scanning the bleachers for you. This time when he looked up and spotted you, he beamed and waved then turned back to all the kids that surrounded him. Once he was done, he walked over to the fence and waved you down.

“You made it,” he said.

“Yeah, sorry I’m late. I walked,” you told him.

“No umbrella?” he asked then looked up at the sky. “It’s gonna rain, you know. Can’t you smell it?”

“The weatherman said nothing about rain today.”

“He could be wrong...” Someone called his name and he turned. “I’ll see you after the game, okay? Don’t sit alone. My friends are up there.” He nodded to the group of guys sitting at the very top of the bleachers.

“Okay. Good luck, Coach.” You smiled and made your way up the bleachers.

“So you’re Frankie’s girl, huh?” one of the men asked. “I’m Benny, by the way.”

“Hi Benny. And I’ve met you, Santiago...right?” Santiago nodded and shook your hand.

“This is my brother William,” Benny said. You shook his hand too then sat down to watch the game. It made you smile to see Frankie enjoying himself, surrounded by children who obviously hung on every word he said. You didn’t hear him shout once aside from cheering for his team. At one point you got so into it that you stood up and cheered louder than anyone else. The guys snickered as you cleared your throat and sat back down.

They ended up winning the game and you all went down to congratulate them.

“What a win, Coach Frankie,” you said, giving him a high five.

“I think I might have had a good luck charm out there in the crowd,” he said and you looked down shyly. The guys came over and you stood back while they talked to him. Afterwards, Frankie reminded everyone of the little party he had put together in the park for them so you all walked over and enjoyed pizza and snacks with the team and their parents.

Frankie told you that you didn’t have to help clean but you wanted to. You weren’t exactly ready to say goodnight just yet. His friends said their goodbyes and his players all gave him a high five and a hug before leaving with their families.

When the last of the mess was thrown away, Frankie turned to you, lifting his cap to scratch at his head. “You mind if I walk you home?” he asked.

“I don’t mind at all.”

“Oops...almost forgot my umbrella.” He sprinted over to where he left it then made his way back to your side.

“You really brought an umbrella? It’s not going to rain,” you repeated.

“Yeah, it is. Here...let me show you. This is what my dad taught me.” He led you over to a tree. “You see when the wind blows and the backs of the leaves show? That means rain.”

“I see but...” You felt a raindrop on your head and Frankie shrugged.

“Told ya. Come on.”

You two walked slowly through the park, taking the longer way around. “Maybe it won’t rain too bad.” No sooner had you said that than the skies opened up. You squealed and Frankie opened his umbrella as quickly as he could, pulling you under there with him.

“Think we can make it to the bridge?” he asked over the rain.

“I don’t know...” Suddenly he took your hand and pulled you along as he ran under the bridge then leaned against the stones to catch his breath.

“I...told...you,” he teased.

“Don’t rub it in,” you breathed. You smiled at him and he smiled back. He took his hat off and slicked his hair back before replacing it.

“At least it waited until after the game,” he said. He saw you hugging yourself and shrugged his jacket off before draping it over your shoulders. “There.”

“Thanks.” You pulled it around you tighter and were hit with a delightful smell. You closed your eyes and let yourself be surrounded by it. “Sandalwood,” you said out loud.

“Hm?”

“Your jacket...it smells like sandalwood,” you said.

“Oh yeah. One of my favorite scents,” he told you.

“Fits you. Very earthy and...” Your breath hitched as you noticed how close he was to you. “...you.”

“Very earthy and me?”

“Y-Yeah.” You two just stared at each other for awhile and you felt yourself being drawn to him, your body leaning towards his.

“Looks like it’s letting up,” he said suddenly, breaking the spell you were under.

“Oh...yeah, it does.” You tried to hide your slight disappointment.

“Shall we, my lady?” He offered his arm while he used the other to hold the umbrella. “Not my lady,” he amended, “I meant like...”

“I know what you meant. Let’s go.” You took his arm and moved as close as you could to get under the umbrella with him.

“I’m not used to this, you know,” he said after a few moments of silence. “I haven’t walked through the park like this since my wife died...” His words trailed off.

“Thank you for sharing something so special with me, Frankie.”

By the time he got you home, the rain had stopped and the sun had started to go down.

“Thank you for letting me walk you home.”

“Thank you for walking me home,” you countered and he chuckled.

“Can I call you tonight?” he asked.

“Of course. You can call whenever you like.”

“Great...awesome.” He walked backwards down the path. “Talk to you soon,” he said before turning away. As he walked along, he noticed he had started whistling I’m Singing in the Rain. He twirled his umbrella playfully and purposely jumped in a puddle.

“What a glorious feeling, and I’m happy again...” he sang to himself.

frankie taglist: @fakenoods @oldstuffnewstuff @the-bird-suit @lestrange2703 @findhimfives @windfallss @rach7 @surfsup666 @theghostwiththemost-babe @marshmallow–3 @mrschiltoncat @aplaceofpeace @josepedropascal @mitchi-c @jeeperky @allthingsnarcos @laymegentlytorest @stanfordscrush @fangirlingss @nathan-bateman @darthdumbasss @helga1031 @master-obi-wan-kenboneme @heythere80sbaby @deserttastesbitter @dindjstarin @mandodjarinn @frankie-stein18 @funkylittlebisexuall @16boyfriends-and-me @marvelousmermaid @slugbuggie @ladyblogger-margie @queenbbarnes @dodgerandevans @terrormonster55 @queridopascal @hells-bells-x @allmahfeels @elizabeth-von-winken-universe @blackberries45 @darnitdraco @nemo-my-name-forevermore @dindjarinneedsahug

permanent taglist: @magicsuperheroes @feelmyroarrrr @the-dazzling-urbanite @phoenixhalliwell @liveloudwriteloud @tumblogbykarapaloma @jaime1110 @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @pascal-isaac @dazedrhapsody @pascalisthepunkest @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @tiffdawg @freak-of-nature2002 @kingpascals @saltywintersoldat @theocatkov @mandilflorian @cyaredindjarin @themarcusmoreno @the-feckless-wonder @loki-098 @arabellathorne @dindisneydjarin @punkpascal @opheliaelysia @takens-world @huliabitch @stardelic @kandomeresbitch @havenforafrazzledmind @thisis-theway @stardust-galaxies @mrsparknuts @jedi-mando @frankiemorales @edencherries @lilkermit14 @virtualxjournality @thirstworldproblemss @emesispo @heresathreebee @tangledlove27 @marvgrrl @hayley-the-comet @insoucianttt @witchyavenger @coaaster @starless-eyes-remain @wanderlustmags @wonderfulfluffer @lv7867 @pedropasscals @pedroepascal @wigwitch @seasonschange-butpeopledont @theoria850 @roxypeanut @autumnleaves1991-blog @kenedyybrooklin @artsymaddie @dindjareen @silverfish-kingdom @heyitmelexie @gredandfeorgesgirl @mandaloriandindjarin @moonlight-prose @rosiefridayrogersunday @ssppoorrkk @amalie-buch @lucifer- @mstgsmy @randomness501 @darthadeline @youarenewformetoo @thehippiequilter @whovian-gurl @neverlandlibrarian @chibi-liz05 @dragons-of-the-usa @over300books @borderlinedindjarin @mudhornchronicles @cosmoschick @linkpk88 @lovingramsey @djvrins @escapedthesarlacc @coni-martina @pedrospunk @burrshottfirstt @jitterbugs927 @xserenax-13 @anatanotegami @doin-stuff @djarinsruni @aerolanya @icanbeyourjedi @bison-writes @strangelittlenobody @dinsbeskar @sarahjkl82-blog @neontiiger @houseofthirst @intu-witch-tion @ennuiandthebourgeoisie @littlebopper96 @boxdyeblonde @empressamidala @myheart-pedro @mtjoi @purplepascal042 @goalkeepernerd @rebelliouscat @leaiorganas @eternallyvenus @mandocrest @kellyozz @the-wishmonger @maythxthirstbxwithyou @andiebell2023 @moonlightburned @videogamesandpoorlifechoices @leonieb @freeshavocadoooo @auroraariza @kalimont83 @notabotiswear @martellthemandalor @beesting77 @medeasmiles @diaryofkali @mando-amando @venusdjarin @mystical-934 @blackmarketmummy @hauntedmama @mamacitapascal @insomniamamma @pedro4ever @greeneyedblondie44

i hope everyone is where they want to be! let me know if you want to be changed around! join a taglist here!

#mechanic!frankie #frankie morales #francisco 'catfish' morales #heythere-mel #headcanon

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vinehasnohopeleft · 2 years

Text

"Hey Sam, why do you cover your eyes?" Lillian asked as she colored. Sam looked up at her and tilted his head slightly before giving a slight shrug. "Is there a reason you don't talk much?" Another shrug.

Lillian was about to ask another question before Caleb placed a hand over her mouth "I think it's because you won't give him a chance to speak." Caleb said, earning a huff from Lillian.

She grabbed the pink crayon and started coloring some rabbits on her page. Caleb sighed before looking up at Sam "is there a reason you cover your eyes?" Caleb asked "I don't want to be pushy but not once have I seen you without your bangs covering your eyes."

"There is a small reason I cover my eyes," Sam's voice was very quiet, Caleb would've missed it if he wasn't paying attention. "But I'm not sure you would want to know."

"Oh, no, I'm interested!" Caleb said, Lillian looked at Caleb before looking at Sam. "Can you show us?" The red head paused and fidgeted with his fingers slightly before sighing.

"I guess I could?" Sam said with a hunt of hesitation in his voice.

He hesitated before reaching up to move his bangs. It felt strange since he used the bangs has a protection to hide from judging eyes, right near his right temple and cheek bone was a large burn scar. It seemed to have half burned his eye and eyebrow, Sam's eyes were a green, a bright emerald green for his left eye and a dull mossy green from his right eye. Sam avoided making eye contact with the two weavers infront of him as he tucked his bangs out of the way.

"Woah!" Lillian said "to be fair, I thought you did the bangs to look edgy or something like the other kids I see at school!"

"You remind me of Papa." Caleb said, holding back a snicker. Sam grabbed one of the stray crayons and lightly threw it at him. "What caused you to get the get the scar?"

"A house fire," Sam said, leaning back in his chair. The movement cause some short pieces of hair to from where they were tucked out of the way, which was behind Sam's ear, and back over Sam's eyes. "I was young when I get the scar so I don't remember what caused the fire."

"Can you see out of the eye?" Lillian asked.

"A little. Everything is kind of blurry in that eye." Sam said, placing a hand out infront of him to look at it. "I'm surprised I haven't gone completely blind yet." Lillian was about to say something before the voice of Sam's mom called Caleb and Lillian for them to be picked up.

"Oh, and guys?" Sam said, watching Lillian and Caleb pause in the middle of packing up their stuff to look at him "don't tell anyone about this, alright?"

"You have our word, Sam, don't worry." Caleb said with a small smile. Lillian tackled Sam in a hug before rushing out the door with Caleb following behind.

Sam smiled softly before cleaning up the mess of coloring book pages and crayons after fixing his hair. Sometimes, he is glad to have the weavers given a second chance at life because he would actually have some good friends but at the same time, it still haunts him about how the weavers could grow from killers one night and into someone completely different the next. Sam sighed and shook his head before straightening up the room and heading outside...

----

I want to write about Sam with these two because I haven't written about them yet, neither did I with Benny but I got no ideas for stories with Benny nor with the parents of the weavers and James.

#wick #random #wick hellbent games #wick 2015 #wick au #hellbent games #second chance au #?#short story #fun

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clonecaptains · 4 years

Text

Get a Room

a santiago ‘pope’ garcia x reader fic

word count: 4.7k

rating: m - for smut, and semi-public sex (there’s others in the room - asleep)

summary: based on this ask from @woakiees - you’re on a trip with Santi, Frankie, Benny and Will - and you stop for the night at a motel. There’s only one room left, and you share a bed with Santi.

a/n: i spent yesterday afternoon crying cuz of my writers block and then THIS HAPPENED????? feedback is much appreciated~!

tagging: @pascalispedro, @tintinwrites, @damndamer0n, @huliabitch, @mandoplease, @darksideofclarke, @yougottakeeponkeepinon, @mylifeliterally, @agentpike, @pascalplease

Get a Room

You’re not sure how you got into this position. It all happened so fast. One minute you’re at one of Benny’s fights with the boys and now Santi has you pinned to the mattress. His hand clapped over your mouth, his length ramming into your heat – all while the other boys sleep in the same shitty motel room.

How did this happen?

Maybe it was the sharp smell of Santi’s cologne in your nose for 6 hours in Frankie’s truck.

Maybe it was the way Santi’s denim covered knee grazed against yours all evening during the fight.

Maybe it was the way his hand was on your lower back guiding you out through the crowd when someone spilled their beer on you.

Or maybe, maybe it’s the way you’ve been in love with Santi for years and every time he’s near you, your heart threatens to burst right out of your chest.

When your friend Will sends you a text that morning about Benny’s fight, you almost don’t want to go. You’re not in any mood to see Benny get the shit beaten out of him again. But then that second text comes in, that Pope is going to come. Your heart leaps in your throat and you answer back immediately. Will is too kind to pester you about it, but he knows about your crush. He’s kept it secret.

You have about 15 minutes to calm yourself before the boys come to pick you up. You watch like a hawk out your window and feel your stomach lurch when you see Frankie’s truck pull into the driveway. You step outside in a hurry, your hand trembling a little as you lock your front door.

This fight is 6 hours away. That’s at least 12 hours with Pope in a confined space guaranteed. Not counting the time spent at the fight.

When you reach the truck, the front passenger door opens, and Santi pops out with a smile on his face.

“Hey honey,” he grins and greets you with a kiss to your cheek. He opens the back-seat door and climbs inside, letting you sit up front. You fight the heat crawling up your neck and hope no one notices. Frankie nods a hello, and he backs the truck out of the driveway. He sees your blush, but he doesn’t say a word. His sunglasses hide the glint in his eyes.

Upon Benny’s request his playlist plays over the truck stereo system. It’s to help get him in the zone. It’s a little too hard rock for your tastes, but the occasional classic rock song comes on that you hum a long to or at least recognize. Still, it’s not exactly the atmosphere you were hoping for.

It doesn’t give you much time to talk to Santi.

There is conversation, it’s light chit chat. Benny is in the backseat, getting in the zone so he refrains from the conversations. It’s left to the four of you, but really you just do a lot of listening.

Santi’s cologne is so sharp in your nose. The drive is long and after a while it’s all you can focus on. It’s like a drug, a toxin in the air. Your lungs felt tight and your heart beats just a little bit faster. You start to think about what it must be like to smell it on his skin, with your nose pressed to his neck.

You know he’s warm, his touch is warm. You’ve been friends with him for years. Run into him at weekend barbecues and even the grocery store from time to time. He’s come to your birthday party the last three years in a row. He’s on your Christmas card list. His number is in your phone, but you never call him.

But you’re familiar enough that he can greet you with an innocent kiss to your cheek. It only makes you ache more.

Feeling hot, you angle the AC vent on your right to blow on you. Heat is beginning to build up on your collarbone. You’re already wearing shorts and a t-shirt but it’s too much, the heat of Santi behind you is burning through the seat.

He grabs the back of your seat once so he can shift around, the long drive cramping his legs. When you feel the seat shift behind you, your body tenses a little. His touch so close.

It’s stifling even when you have the air blasting on your face.

It gets worse when he leans forward, his voice in your ear behind you.

“Hey honey, can you angle the air back here? It’s a little warm.”

You lean forward and angle it, he thanks you with a smile and for some reason you panic. As if he knows something.

What could he possibly know? Could he deduce that it’s him that’s got you all sweaty, so you angled the air towards you?

It only adds to your suspicion when Frankie turns to look at you for a beat.

Shit.

They know something you don’t.

Maybe you’re just paranoid.

What could be so bad though? If Santi found out about your crush? It’s not like he would make fun of you. The only person in that truck that would make fun would be Benny, but he’s too in the zone right now to notice or care.

Santi has been nothing but sweet to you ever since you’ve known him. And maybe you want a little more than sweet. Maybe you want him to dig his fingers in your hips and take you apart with his cock and put you back together again with his gentle touch.

Maybe if he finds out then it could end well for you? If he turns you down though, you don’t know if you could ever face him again. That’s why you have to keep it a secret.

The heat’s only gotten worse now that it’s not blowing directly on you. How can you clench your thighs together without Frankie seeing? How can you breathe when Santi’s cologne is still so strong even after a few hours?

Your relief comes when the MMA arena is a few minutes away. Your long drive finally ending.

You’re not interested in this fight in the least, but if you can find a way to sit by Santi then it’ll make it worth your while.

It’s a tournament, and you’ll have to watch several matches throughout the day.

When you walk in, Santi and Frankie are with you. Will and Benny separate to go to the locker room. Before he parts with you, Will hands Santi your ticket. Frankie is buying a beer, and Santi’s hand touches your shoulder, directing you through the rowdy crowd to the ticket booth.

Finally, you have your moment alone with Santi. You’re not about to tell him you’re in love with him HERE, but you like being near him.

You make friendly chit chat when you find your seats.

“End or middle?” Santi asks when you reach your spot.

“Middle,” you tell him, and he steps in first. You follow behind, and that leaves Frankie to sit on the very end.

Frankie joins you in a few moments, beer in hand. He takes a seat with a sigh, then takes a sip of his beer.

“Think Benny’ll win this thing?” Frankie asks.

“He could, if he moves his feet,” Santi observes.

You just shrug, you’re not here for Benny.

Santi’s denim clad knee brushing against your skin reminds you why you’re here. His presence is so loud. In a room full of screaming spectators, Santi is the loudest in your mind. In a room full of the stink of sweat, smell of popcorn and beer, and the rubber of a gym floor – that cologne is what’s filling your nose.

“You smell nice ,” you blurt out suddenly in the middle of a match. Frankie and Santi’s eyes both fixed on the fight both turn to look at you.

“Thank you,” Santi smiles.

“Who said she was talking to you?” Frankie scoffs.

“Because man, all you put on this morning was deodorant,” Santi snickers and you laugh too.

“Thank you,” Santi says again, “I put on a little extra because I don’t wanna smell Benny’s sweat all the way home tonight.”

That’s only a reminder that this day will end and who knows when you’ll see Santi again for this amount of time. You have him right here and you can’t think of a single word to say.

You watch the fights, but you’re not invested. It’s then you get a bright idea.

“Santi?”

“What’s up, honey?” he turns to face you. The crowd “OOO’s” at something that just happened on the floor, but Santi doesn’t turn his head from you.

“Can you explain some of the rules? I’m trying to follow.”

“Of course!” he leans towards you a little, his shoulder touching yours. He’s closer so you can hear him over the roar of the crowd.

He tells you what to watch for and different rules. He gives you technical terms but explains them. He never once treats you like you’re stupid, and when he forgets a rule, he asks Frankie. Frankie always knows and he never tears his eyes away from the fight, but he answers out of the side of his mouth.

That keeps the conversation going. By the end of the day you’re actually a little invested.

“I’m going to get some water; you want anything honey?” Santi starts to stand up.

“I’m good,” Frankie butts in.

“I’ll take a coke,” you tell Santi and he nods. You fish for your wallet, but he shakes his head ‘no.’

“I got it,” and he squeezes past you and Frankie.

The moment Santi is out of earshot, Frankie leans down to you.

“Why don’t you say something?”

You know what he means. His words hit right in your chest. And you feel dizzy.

“What would I say?”

Frankie shrugs, but you see a soft smile on his face. You sit in silence then. Your heart pounding in your chest. It’s as if you’re standing on the edge of a cliff, deciding whether or not to jump.

“How long have you known?” you ask, breaking the silence. You feel horrified. He’ll be back in any moment.

“I had a guess, but today was it was confirmed.”

“Does he know?” You feel sick.

That’s right about the time Santi shows back up with your coke and his bottled water. He sits down with a sigh and hands you your drink. You can’t help but notice the brush of his fingers against your own.

Frankie gives you a look and you elbow him in the ribs.

Santi almost chokes on his water with a laugh, “What was that for? I mean I always wanna elbow Fish.”

“Nothing,” you lie.

“Mhmm,” Santi shakes his head with a laugh.

You’re glad you asked Santi for that coke, you need the caffeine because the fights are running later than expected. And the crowd is extra rowdy as it nears the end.

There’s a few left to go, and Benny is still in it.

It’s a crucial moment in the match, and the crowd jumps to their feet. When they do, the person behind you spills their beer all over your back. Your now soaked t-shirt clings to your skin and you gasp. The smell of it is all over you, even soaked into the back of your denim shorts.

You look horrified, and Santi is quick to get you out of there when he sees the look in your eyes.

You’re dripping with it, it’s even in your hair. But sweet Santi, he cautiously puts his hand on your lower back, not caring if his hand gets wet. You can feel the heat of his fingers through your shirt.

“Here,” Santi leads you to a merchandise booth. He fishes out his wallet and starts to buy you an MMA shirt.

“Santi, no. They’re like $45!”

“Honey, you can’t wear a beer-soaked shirt all night.”

He hands the vendor the cash and he hands Santi the shirt which he then hands to you.

“The bathrooms are this way,” he motions for you.

“Thank you,” you tell him and bravely lean up to kiss his stubbly cheek. You grasp the shirt in your hand, as if it’s a precious gift. It is though, it’s a token of care. Even if it’s only a kind gesture as a friend, you cherish it.

You can hear the noises from the match in the distance, the audience growing loud. It must be over.

You peel your soaked shirt from your skin and do your best to dry off your back before putting on the new shirt. It still sticks to you, and you grimace at the sensation.

Santi is waiting patiently for you outside; you spot him among the crowd pouring out of the arena. The fight is definitely over.

Frankie is close behind, your purse in his hands.

“I almost forgot that!” you gasp taking it from him. You thank him and his eyes are kind.

“Benny won!” Santi tells you. “He did what I told him to!”

“I don’t believe it!” you laugh. You’re glad he won; he’ll be in a better mood on the way home.

“Finally,” Frankie chuckles. “We’re gonna stay at a motel tonight though, I’m not driving six hours this late.” He could do it and he has before. But he’s not interested in doing it tonight.

It seems everyone else had this idea because motels in the area all have no vacancy.

It’s 1am when you see the motel with the flashing vacancy sign. Frankie parks and you all pile out of the truck.

“Only one room?” Frankie wipes his hand over his face.

“We’ll take it,” Will interjects. “It’ll be fine.” He shoots you a look and you want to shrink back into the ugly couch in the motel lobby office.

Santi swipes the room key while Will pays the fee.

The motel room is small, as expected. There are two queen beds, a table, and a small bathroom.

Benny calls dibs on first shower, and Frankie collapses on one of the beds. He falls asleep the instant his body hits the mattress. His baseball cap falls off his head onto the floor from the roughness of his fall.

Santi sits down on the other bed and starts to take off his shoes. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and tosses it and his keys and wallet to the small bedside table next to the old motel phone.

Will sits down at the table, doing the same thing Santi is doing.

And you, you stand awkwardly in the room, unsure of what to do.

“Where am I going to sleep?” you ask, the elephant in the room.

“Wherever you want, honey,” Santi looks up with a soft smile. Damn him and that pet name. it gets you every time.

“I’ll go see if they have a cot,” Will volunteers and steps out.

“Thank you again for the shirt,” you tell Santi, tugging on it a little, it’s still sticking to your back.

He notices, and you see a small frown on his face. He makes a move you don’t expect, and he pulls off his dark blue t-shirt, leaving him shirtless. You can’t help the surprise that comes across your face. His tan chest glows in the dim motel light. There’s a chain around his neck and it glints in the light too. Your mouth waters and you have a need to touch him.

“Here,” he stands and hands you his shirt. “It’s better than a beer stained one for you to sleep in.”

“Thank you,” is all you can manage to say, and you know Santi can see the obvious flustered look on your face. His intention wasn’t to make you uncomfortable, and you know that.

“Whoa!” Benny shouts when he steps out of the bathroom. He’s the only one with a change of clothes, his gym bag draped over his shoulder. “What’s going on here?” he laughs seeing a shirtless Santi.

“Her shirt has beer on it,” Santi replies and he sits back down on the bed. Frankie wakes with a grunt and tells Benny to fuck off for being so loud.

You duck into the bathroom, taking your opportunity to get a moment to breathe from seeing a shirtless Santi.

“Why do you call her that?” you can hear Benny muffled through the bathroom door.

“What?” Santi asks.

“You call her ‘honey’ all the fuckin’ time.”

You don’t hear Santi’s reply and it makes your head spin. What did he say??

You clutch onto his shirt in your hands and you bring it to your nose. The smell of his cologne is so strong in the soft fabric. You breathe deeply, the thrill running down to your toes.

You put it on the counter and turn on the shower. You drape your beer-soaked clothes over the edge of the tub.

Stepping inside, you feel another thrill at being so naked and Santi is right outside the door. If it was only him in the room, you wonder if you might be bold and drop your towel in front of him.

But then you scoff at yourself, you could barely handle hearing him speak in the car ride over.

The motel shower is shitty, like everything else in the room. But at least the water is hot. You use every ounce of the little shampoo and conditioner and body wash to get the smell of beer out of your hair and skin.

While you wash your hair, your mind wanders to Santi again. There’s an ache between your thighs that will never be satisfied. Not unless you get up the courage to tell him how you feel, see where that gets you.

You have a mind to get yourself off real quick, but the motel water runs cold. This place is terrible.

You step out to dry off when you run into your next problem. You reach for Santi’s shirt to put it on, and stop – how bold are you? Do you dare not wear a bra under his shirt? There’s no way you’ll sleep comfortably with your underwire digging into your skin.

You’re already going to be bare legged, your shorts are covered in beer and drying.

Your towel in hand, you ultimately decide no bra. You’ll just make a dash for whichever bed you’re sleeping in and hope no one sees.

When you open the bathroom door, the lights in the room are off. There’s at least two men snoring. As your eyes adjust you see Benny is on the roll out cot.

“Over here,” you hear Santi whisper. You find your way over to that bed and without thinking, you climb right in.

Panic floods your veins. You’re in the same bed as Santiago Fucking Garcia. You’re wearing his shirt, no bra, and no pants. If you move just a small fraction, your hips will collide with his.

You face away from him and your nerves has you clutching that scratchy motel towel to your chest.

“Hey,” he whispers, he’s so close. “It’s ok.” You visibly relax at his words, and he seems to be content with that. The bed shifts as he gets comfortable, and you lay there, eyes wide open.

You’re closest to the bedside table and you watch the glaring red digital clock for at least 30 minutes. Everyone is asleep but you can’t. Not when the man of your dreams is next to you and all you want to do is touch him. Tell him you love him.

Maybe he wouldn’t be opposed to you cuddling into him.

You roll over, slowly, and you come face to face with him. His eyes are very much open, and his smile is soft. It’s so dark in the room, but you can see enough.

“Can’t sleep?” he whispers.

You shake your head ‘no.’

“C’mere,” he whispers and puts his hand on your hip. He pulls you close, and you let him. You bury your nose into his chest and get a good strong whiff of that cologne. “I lied,” you hear him whisper.

“About what?” you whisper back.

“I said I wore this cologne to cover up Benny’s sweat. I wore it for you.”

“I lied too. I didn’t care about the matches; I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

“So, what are we going to do about that huh?”

It takes a moment for your brain to come back online when he starts kissing you. The grit of his stubble scratches your chin. His soft lips brush against yours and his tongue finds its way into your mouth. Your body is putty in his hands, and you let him mold you how he wants.

Before you know it, you’re on your back. A wandering hand dips into your arousal-soaked panties and he toys with your clit. You whine once, and he claps his other hand over your mouth. It’s all you can do not to groan loudly. All of your senses are on fire.

You taste the salt of his skin on his palm over your lips. You hear your own heartbeat pounding at the thrill of it all. The man of your dreams is teasing your sex, all while you’re in a room full of sleeping friends. Your eyes are closed tight, just enjoying the feeling – you crack them open every once in a while, just to make sure what’s happening is real. You can barely make out Santi in the dark. His cologne and musk are strong in your nose. And you feel, oh do you feel. You feel it all. The pressure of his hand on your mouth keeping you quiet. His minty breath fanning against your face. His hard body on top of yours. The band of his watch digging into your skin. His fingers about to bring you to orgasm. His hardening length digging into your thigh.

His finger moves faster and faster, and you’re almost to the edge when one of the boy’s snores stop. Santi freezes, his finger pressed to your clit, you know he can feel your pulse there. But when whoever it was starts snoring again, Santi resumes at his rapid pace.

You shut your eyes and try your best not to whine when you come. You wish you were alone with him; you want him to hear how he makes you feel.

He pries his hand away from your mouth, so he can replace with his lips. You squeak in his mouth when you feel his hands pull your panties down.

“Do you want this?” he whispers on your lips.

You nod frantically YES. You could easily be caught, but you’d rather die then tell him no.

In a fraction of a second, his boxers are off and he’s slotting himself between your legs.

He claps his hand over your mouth again when you whine, the feeling of his tip against your entrance is too much. The blunt snag of him slowing pushing inside is more than you can take, and you arch your body up to meet his. He bites his own lip when he’s fully settled inside your welcome heat.

You can feel his heart beating against your chest, or is that yours?

Santi pulls out, and thrusts back in – it’s all you can do not to shout. The bed creaks, and you feel heat in your face. The reality of this is finally catching up with you.

Santi’s hips snap, and his thrusts are precise and unrelenting. The bed groans with his movement, and you wish you could groan. Instead you try and breathe through your nose and tears pour out of your eyes at how good he feels.

Your hands are everywhere, in his hair, on his back. You’re sure you’ve left marks on his skin from your nails scratching as he fills you up to the brim.

You can’t be bothered by the unforgiving squeak of the motel bed now. Not when you’re so close. His hand is in between your bodies toying with your clit again and that’s when you lose it. You pulse around him, hard. Your lungs are on fire and your heart is pounding so harshly against your ribcage.

It’s then his hand falls from your mouth. His face buries in the crook of your neck, his groans muffled as he spills inside of you.

He’s about to pull out when there’s a loud thump. Frankie throws a pillow at Santi, hitting him on the shoulder.

“Fuck’s sake, Pope,” Frankie mumbles.

“SSHH Fish!” Benny grunts.

You cover your mouth with your hand to stifle your giggles and Santi snickers quietly. You’re feeling too good to be embarrassed.

“It’s gonna be an awkward six hours tomorrow,” Santi whispers with a laugh when he pulls away. He grabs the towel you’d had with you to clean up the slick between your thighs.

The next thing you remember is waking up hearing a loud whistle from Benny. You open your eyes to see Benny standing at the foot of the bed, your panties dangling from the tip of his finger. Your legs are intertwined with Santi’s, and you look around to see Frankie and Will looking at you with smirks. Thankfully, the sheets are covering your legs, and you still have on Santi’s shirt from last night.

“Pay up,” Will holds out his hand, and Frankie and Benny both sigh.

“Excuse me?” you laugh, very aware of Santi’s arms squeezing tightly around you. He’s promptly ignoring the boys and kissing your neck.

“They had a bet going,” he murmurs.

“You knew?” somehow this is more horrifying than being caught with your pants down, literally.

“Nah,” he shrugs, he nods his head toward Will pocketing the money. “If I knew then I’d be in on it.” He laughs and you shove his chest.

“Benny,” you stick out you hand, “if you would be so kind.”

He laughs and tosses you your underwear. You put them on under the covers, then head towards the bathroom. No sense in hiding now.

Santi is quick on your heels as he pulls on his boxers. His hand comes to stop the door from closing behind you, and he steps inside the bathroom, closing the door with a click.

You hear groans from the boys outside.

“No time for round two Pope, let’s go!” Benny bangs on the door with a laugh.

Santi only smiles and leans in for a kiss, which you gratefully accept.

“I need my shirt back,” he grins tugging on the hem of it. You let him peel it off of you, and his hands go right for your breasts. In the heat of the moment last night he didn’t get to explore this part of you. He didn’t get to do much exploring at all.

His big hands squeeze and bounce your breasts and his thumbs toy with your nipples a little.

“Tonight, honey,” he leans in to kiss your temple, “I wanna take you out for a real date yeah?”

You nod and giggle again when you hear Frankie shout in Spanish at Pope to get ready.

He puts on his shirt and he leaves you to finish getting dressed. Your shirt from last night is still damp. The new shirt you got is what you’ll wear. Your shorts are dry enough but it’s all you’ve got.

“I am never taking a trip with you two again,” Frankie smacks Pope on the back and he winces.

“Oh shit!” Benny laughs. “She scratched you, up didn’t she?!”

Santi only grins as he pulls on his jeans. He offers you his hand when you come out of the bathroom. He pulls you in for another kiss and you can’t help but smile.

Will gets the room key, and Frankie does a sweep to make sure no one forgot anything.

“You two,” Frankie motions at you and Santi as you walk out of the motel, “are sitting in the backseat. And if I hear one peep so help me…”

“You’ll what?” Santi laughs, “throw another pillow at me?”

Frankie mumbles something in Spanish and shoves Santi towards the truck. Santi opens the doors and lets you climb in first. He chases behind you, his hands tickling your sides as you sit down in the back.

You do kiss him a little on the way home, but it doesn’t take long before you fall asleep on Santi’s shoulder.

You didn’t get much sleep last night.

And you doubt you will tonight either.

#santiago pope garcia #santiago pope garcia x reader #santiago garcia x reader #triple frontier #my writing #gif is mine #i am ready for yall to yell at me

1K notes · View notes

gracemyface · 3 years

Text

Little Bump (Benjamin x Fem! Reader)

Key:

Y/n - Your Name

Y/l/n - Your Last Name

Y/e/c - Your Eye Color

Y/h/c - Your Hair Color

Requested by @fangirlbitch02: Could you write something with Benny? Anything really, he doesn’t have enough love!

Reader Gender: Female

Summary: Benjamin goofs up while trying to impress the reader with his aikido skills and he thinks he might just die of embarrassment— but it’s a good thing she’s there to be nice about it.

Warnings: None, really. Benny boy is a simp, fluff, mild anxious thoughts.

A/n: Benjamin is a dork and I’m happy to write for his dorky self. My friend @taejoonstars peer pressured me into writing, so you have her to thank.

Word Count: 300+

Benjamin sits in your shared apartment, eyes closed and head aching; the sound of the staff thwacking against his skull echoes through his mind, and he could just die of embarrassment.

It didn’t help that you were there, poorly hiding your snickering while cracking an ice pack for him.

All the boy wanted to do was impress you, show you that he was tough and that he learned some of this super cool martial art form, but that had backfired incredibly. Were people still laughing at him outside? Are you as flustered as he is? Was Morgan going to continue training him?

“Here, Dana said if you ice it long enough there shouldn’t be too much of a bump.”

Benjamin reluctantly opens his eyes and takes the pack from you. You sit down beside him as he holds the ice pack to his forehead and pouts; you smile at him.

“Stop it.” He groans half heartedly, turning his head away.

“Stop what?”

“Making fun of me.”

“I didn’t say anything.” You defend, voice light.

“But you’re looking at me.”

You laugh again, wrapping your arms around him and pressing a chaste kiss to his face.

“You’re pretty. I like looking at pretty things.”

His face burns redder than it was before, and his free arm wraps around you slowly. You stifle your teasing in favor of resting your head on him, humming softly and rubbing circles on his shoulder with your thumb.

A short while later, when the ice pack has melted past the point of being any help, he removes it and looks at you expectantly.

“So?”

“Aw it’s only a little bump— you’re going to be fine.”

Benjamin wasn’t sure he was going to ever recover from the embarrassment, but he sure appreciates the sentiment and let’s you cover his face with ‘healing’ kisses.

#benjamin twd imagine #benjamin twd #benjamin twd x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead fanfiction #morgan jones #fluff

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aficwhore · 3 years

Text

Truth Is (Chapter 3)

Chapter 3: Paper Weighted Problems

Frankie “Catfish” Morales x F!reader

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

Word count: 3K

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fishie: "I'm sorry..."

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

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

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

Fishie: "Really?"

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

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

Me: "Wow, you are unbelievable."

I heard him shuffle and type back quickly;

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

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

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

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

Fishie: "Oh really?"

Me: "Yea, fuck you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You never let me talk-" Frankie continued.

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

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

TAGLIST @tanyaherondale @winter-fox-queen @supernaturalgirl @actual-spawn-of-satan @hnt-escape @toomanystoriessolittletime @shadowolf993 @goldielocks2004

*if your user has a strike through, it wouldn’t let me tag you*

#frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales #frankie catfish Morales x reader #catfish x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier x reader #frankie morales angst #angst

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howdywrites · 3 years

Text

Chapter Zero

→ an In The Woods Somewhere excerpt

This is from my zero draft of ITWS that won't be in the new draft I'm starting for Camp NaNo. I still thought it would be fun to share since it gives a little insight into Jackie (park ranger main) and a side character named Benny who works under her. NOTE: there is a lot of info in this that's changed as I've outlined so some of the locations will be inaccurate.

Warnings: brief mention of recreational drug use (mushrooms)

Length: 2.3k words

[ WIP Intro ]

Breath burned aching lungs. Boots stomped in slick, dark mud. The icy mist clung to every hair on bare skin and the drumming of heartbeat became the rhythm in which Jackie fell in time with. She jerked, ducking beneath a low hanging branch. Her hair whipped as she cast a worried glance over her shoulder. It wasn’t following her anymore.

A disgruntled skunk and her litter of kits watched her sprint from the home they made in a thicket of bushes. If she had stuck around for just a second longer, Jackie would have paid dearly for her grave mistake. Up on [the mountain], there wasn’t a proper shower to be had at the lookout. In fact, there was almost no running water to be had at all. That’s exactly how she preferred it - being one with nature in every sense of the word.

“Fuck-” A patch of thick mud sent her sliding into the wooden Trail 46 sign that pointed southeast. Jackie held on to it, leaning over with her chest heaving while she caught her breath. A spring of curled hair fell over her forehead from under the brim of her uniform hat. Taking one last deep breath, she swept it back under and ran her hands along her two thick braids to make sure her rubber bands were still attached to the ends.

Static crackled from the radio on her hip. A voice snickered at her from the other end.

“I didn’t know you could run that fast,” the voice teased her, his laughter turning into crackles. Jackie lifted her head and dragged her eyes along the ridge behind her. Ancient trees and wild brush lined the rocky ledge. She squinted, trying to make sense of the map of greens and browns. Despite her year of working in Wyoming, she struggled making out shapes in the woods that weren’t blocky signs. “Surprised you didn’t lose your hat.”

Jackie unhooked her radio and held it up to her mouth. It trilled and went quiet. “Where are you? I swear to god, Benny, if you scare me again you owe me a cone at Marie Bettie’s on Monday.”

She stood there, a hand on her hip and her radio up by her ear. A crease formed between her brows. Birds flit from tree to tree down Trail 42, drawing her eye. Frowning, she didn’t see Benny there. Nor did he respond on the radio. She hesitantly clicked it again. “Benny I’m not playing. Where the hell are you?” She couldn’t hear herself on the other end. Wherever he was hiding, he had turned off his radio so she couldn’t gauge where he was.

Stepping out into the middle of the trail, Jackie circled around like an uneasy horse, feet pressed firmly into the packed dirt. A small creature of amber red and white darted out from a nearby thicket of prickly bushes and skittered across the trail. She gasped, nearly jumping out of her skin. While distracted, a pair of hands touched down on her shoulders, fingers curling over her uniform.

Jackie screeched, launching herself forwards out of the grip of the intruder. The ranger hat on her head tipped off, rolling and bouncing off the gravel. Her arms barely caught her in time to save her face from getting superficial scratches. Squirming, she rolled onto her back and scrambled into a squat. Benny stood there, cackling loud enough to send a few birds flying from their nests in the trees. His smile took up most of his face. Smile lines deepend and the prominent gap between his teeth was on full display.

“I got you good, didn’t I?” He leaned in, holding a hand out for her. Despite the adrenaline soaring through her veins and the annoyance that tumbled within her, Jackie sighed and grasped at it for help off the ground. Freckles splattered his sun-kissed skin, his cheekbones turning to apples with his grin.

“Yeah, yeah. You owe me two cones, now, Wonderbird. Double scoops.”

“Hey, that’s not fair! You know volunteers don’t make squat here-” Benny stooped down to pick up her hat, dusting it off for her. It was true. When he first joined the park just six months ago, Jackie had been assigned as his mentor. The junior program was offered to any college students pursuing their line of work. To get a taste of life as a ranger. They didn’t make a salary, but their summers spent in action were funded by park leadership in the form of bunks and food. A far better deal than what was offered to her in Tennessee. She took up her hat and repositioned it proudly on top of her head. “But I guess it’s the least I could do for doing that.” He pointed down at her green trousers.

A small tear cut across her knee, thankfully protecting her skin from being lacerated by her fall. Sighing, Jackie lifted her leg and inspected the hole. “Luckily I brought my sewing kit with me to the tower. C’mon, let’s finish our rounds. Think the captain has extra radios for tonight? Last thing I want is to not be able to contact anyone - especially this weekend.”

The end of summer break brought in the most guests outside of the spring season. Mostly college students looking to get out of town, but not willing to commit to the cost of going to the Bahamas or Miami all the way down south. Jackie couldn’t remember most of the breaks from her college days. She crunched to get through with her degree as fast as possible. Any break she got was filled with studying or working wherever she could. She would have liked to go somewhere tropical and warm for her breaks, but she preferred the serenity that usually came with visiting state parks instead.

“How many people usually camp here during breaks?” Benny kicked a pale gray pebble into the grass alongside the pack dirt walking trail.

“Could be hundreds. Maybe even close to a thousand or more. Really depends.” Earlier that day, they had already received an influx of campers eager to stake their claim on the best spots in the park before the hoards arrived. Easily several dozen of them, all scattered between RV hookups, the rentable cabins and clearings for tents. “Just be glad you’re not working at any of the offices this weekend. I’d take firewatch over disgruntled campers any day.”

“I can’t thank you enough, you know.” An elbow bumped Jackie’s arm and she glanced at the grinning young man. “If it weren’t for you, Richards probably would’ve never let me take over tower 24. He told me you put in a good word for me.”

Smiling down at the ground, Jackie shrugged and reached out to give him a gentle pat on the shoulder. “It wasn’t all me. You’ve got the passion for this. The drive. Can’t say the same for some of the other volunteers-”

A trill of squealing laughter caught her attention. The two of them paused right at the fork. One path remained wide open with wooden signs encouraging guests to stay on the correct path. The other had overgrowth and a dirt path so narrow, one could hardly call it a trail at all. The usual rope gate meant to block it off had been cut. Both ends laid useless on the ground with frayed edges. Another bark of laughter came from the end it shouldn’t have.

“Damn…” Jackie muttered bitterly under her breath. Just when she thought they could wrap up for the afternoon. Benny puffed out his chest and stood up taller.

“C’mon, ranger,” he chirped, marching towards the rocky side path. “No dilly dallying!”

“You just want to write up a citation.” She snorted and followed alongside him. “You’re starting to sound like the captain.”

Snaking down the path, the trees overhead grew thicker and wider. Branches from lowly pines scraped against their arms. Creatures that remained unseen skittered into their hiding places. The closer they got to the three or four voices chattering away up ahead, the more signs they saw. Brand new, the signs were nailed into the untouched bark of the trees along the path or plastered on wooden signs hammered into the thick dirt.

WARNING: do not proceed! This area has been sanctioned for investigation by the State of Wyoming and local police. Any violations will result in a $500 fine.

“Have these signs always been here?” Benny’s voice lowered to a faint whisper. Jackie stepped carefully around a pile of stones gathered around the base of a thick oak. Her boots slid against their jagged surfaces. “I don’t remember them putting these up.

“I don’t either. I remember some feds were here on Wednesday, but they weren’t up for much small talk.” They stood proudly in their dark suits and shade, holding boxes of flyers and paperwork and speaking in hushed tones to her higher ups. The single chance she had to greet one of them was met with silence. Very rude. “I don’t think this was a missing person’s case, otherwise we would have been informed about it.”

Like something out of a sci-fi movie, bright yellow caution signs littered a shady grove at the end of the short path. The sound of water trickling from a nearby stream joined the quiet voices. The blocky lettering on the big yellow signs yelled at them.

DO NOT DRINK THE WATER! Do not disturb local flora as issued by the governor of Wyoming.

“Dude! You’re going to get us in trouble!” A nervous voice murmured beyond the trees. There, by the creek, four college aged kids stood around a mossy puddle. Two girls and two boys, all wearing their UW school colors. Most likely freshmen given their wide eyes and round faces. One of them stood with his jeans rolled up to his knees in the shallow water, a fist full of curling brown mushrooms that looked like kelp. They went silent at the sight of the two rangers.

“This path is restricted.” Benny took the initiative, his voice wavering just a bit at the end of his statement. Jackie let him take the reins. If he really wanted to do this for a living, he would have to get used to this. As he went over what rules they broke being there, she made her way over to a damp patch of tall grass between two moss covered trees.

Squatting, she spied even more kelp-like mushrooms. They stuck out of the grass like limp, decaying fingers out of a grave. Jackie narrowed her eyes and used a pen from her breast pocket to jab at it with as gentle of a touch as she could manage. It released a pussy substance and a musky scent that reminded her of the single frat party she attended her last year in school. Similar to weed, but different. From looks alone, she couldn’t nail down from which family this fungus derived from. In fact, she couldn’t recall anything remotely similar in all her years of study.

“You can’t do that.” The kid in the water whined, trudging out of the water. He tossed the picked mushrooms. “C’mon, man, we’re just trying to have a little fun! I gotta pay for books next week!”

Jackie looked over her shoulder in time to see Benny’s head fall like a disappointed teacher’s. He sighed and shifted his weight from foot to foot, unable to reply. Tucking her pen back into its spot, she dusted her hands off and stood.

“Here’s what we’re going to do-” She put her hands on her hips and took over for him. She spoke with authority and a rigid stance. “I’ll let you off with a warning, as long as you four keep to the official trails and stay out of trouble. If me or any of my associates catch you out of bounds again, it’ll be a $700 ticket. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.” The kid slipped his wet feet into his Nike sandals and hung his head. Blonde hair stuck to his pink face and despite his towering height over her, he still looked like a boy. It only made her feel older than she was. The other three murmured in agreement, following behind him. She watched them shuffle up the path until they disappeared behind a thicket of pines.

“I thought I could do it,” Benny sighed, his head swiveling side to side, checking for litter or anything else the rowdy guests may have left behind. Jackie moved to stand beside him and ruffled his mess of red hair. The way his nose scrunched and his shoulders relaxed from the playful exchange reminded her so much of Andre back at home.

“You did better than I did the first time I tried writing a citation - I cried.” Her sidekick blinked, surprised, and chuckled.

“But you’re so good at it. You’ve got a mom voice - in a good way, I mean.”

“Geez, I’m not that old, Wonderbird. First them, and now you? I’m aging by the second. You’ll have to explain to Richards why my knees are bad and my hair is graying when summer’s over, you dingus.”

Benny all but collapsed forward with laughter, holding his stomach and slapping his knee like a cheery grandfather. Jackie smiled so wide her cheeks ached. She had to avert her gaze to not let the homesickness creep in. She would miss him when he had to go back to school. Just like she missed Andre.

The mushrooms among the grass piqued her curiosity again. She stooped down beside them and inspected them without touching. Who knew what they did and who knew why the government and college kids were so interested in them.

“What are they? They were grabbing a lot of them.” Benny squatted next to her, reaching out to touch one. Jackie gently smacked the back of his hand and shook her head.

“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t touch them. Let’s get to the office, the captain’s waiting for us by now.”

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