#christina writes

[icanbeyourjedi-writes]

It Was Just A Dream... Chapter Two

Summary: Frankie is all moved in, or is he? A cute game of cat and mouse has an ending you wouldn’t expect, Frankie’s mood swings end with an outcome neither of them expected.  Words: 5,000+ Rating: 18+ Adult Themes Warnings/Triggers:  Addiction, Falling for Your Brothers Friend, Language, OFC is somewhat described as someone with longer hair, but no race/eye color/body type  

A/N: I don’t know much about addiction, just the things that I googled and seen portrayed on TV. This is completely an AU. I had the beginning of this story pop in my head randomly and thought it sounded fun to explore. Sure we all love Frankie was that sweet puppy dog…but what if he had his own inner demons he had to battle with.  The ‘coke charge’ was mentioned in TF and I kinda wanted to explore that side of him. 

**This is written asa  first person, and it's my first time writing in first person, so please be gentle with me. I also include Frankie's POV which will be Bold and Italics

It took two days, four, well three and a half strong men moved all of Frankie’s stuff. My house might be small, but the best part. Despite only having two bedrooms, the bedrooms are huge. The guest room is slightly smaller than my master and there isn’t an attached bathroom but still plenty is space for his stuff. I kept the small desk there, well honestly that was the only thing I had there. Five years of living here and my guest room was still empty. Mostly why I think Benny volunteered my space, I was also someone he knew. All of Frankie’s belongings were still in taped boxes. We didn’t know how long Benny was going to be gone, it made sense to bring more than just a duffle bag of stuff. 

It's been two weeks since he had moved in, his clothes still in boxes, extra bedding still in boxes. He’s been wearing the same gray sweatpants and black shirt since he got here. Now don’t get me wrong, I love a man in specifically gray ones as much as the next girl, but he hasn’t changed. I don’t even know if he has showered. Seeing him all mopey is making me mad and slightly frustrated. I know he would much rather be back at what has been his home for years, but he needs help and I want to help. I just have no idea what I am doing. I’m feeling guilty making him move, and I know I shouldn’t. 

Thanks to having no social life I had a lot of PTO built up, I’ve been off these two weeks trying to help him feel at home. It’s been mostly awkward living with him when it shouldn’t. Awkward grunts, one word answers, he eats alone despite my best efforts. Yesterday he came out of his room and talked to me, it was about a cricket outside his window that just wouldn’t shut up. It was the first time he seemed to be normal? Is that even the right word, what is normal? 

It’s late afternoon, and he had been in his room the entire day. Walking past his room and I see him sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at the boxes sitting along the wall picking at his fingernails. He has had mood swings that have him going from happy to sad in seconds.  I thought about walking past him again, keep going on with my day.  But I couldn’t stand seeing the boxes still stacked. It felt like he was ready to move as soon as Benny stepped foot on American soil again, and I was terrified of seeing him live like he didn’t belong here.  I stop and gently tap on the open door, “hey…you want some help with those?”

He doesn’t look up at me, instead he just continues to stare at the box, “there’s just so much, I don’t know where to start” he takes a deep breath hanging his head 

I walk into his room, he is still sitting on the bed. I grab the top box labeled ‘shirts’ and then turn back towards him. I tap his foot with mine, motioning with my head he needs to move. He stands up and watches as I drop the box on the bed and start grabbing a few shirts and put them in one of the many empty drawers. I hear him sigh with disapproval and I look at him “What?” I groan in frustration 

“They need to be folded neatly, and by color. As well as style, but it’s fine…it’s fine. I’ll just do it later” he rubs the back of his neck

Call it being a perfectionist, I call it someone who was trained that everything always had to have order.  Everything needed to have crisp lines, be organized.  Having its rightful spot, years of military training would do this to a person and I was all too aware that it wasn’t fine.

I pull the shirts back out of the drawer, hoping he doesn’t see my eye roll and I set them back in the box. I didn’t expect this to be easy, but I also didn’t expect I was going to have to be his mother and not a friend. I didn’t think I was going to have to tell Frankie to eat, to take a shower. All the things I thought he already knew, was he like this in rehab? “Then refold the shirts and put them in the drawer” shit was that too aggressive? “I think I might make you feel more at home if you do” I put a hand on his shoulder gently rubbing it. 

I watch as he takes a shirt out, folds it meticulously. The edges of the shirt are perfect, he sets it on the bed, his hand running over the shirt, taking out any wrinkles. Every shirt has an order, by color, type, it is memorizing watching him as he moves. Folding every time with such perfection. I have to shake my head and snap out of it, I grab another box and open it to find it stuffed with boxers. He is completely focused on his shirts as I work to put the boxer briefs in a drawer hoping the fold in half method works for him. 

I pull out black pair after black pair.  There was an occasional gray mixed in. After seeing him in those gray sweatpants for the past two weeks my mind can’t help but imagine him in these and how great they would make his thighs look, his…’stop.  Don’t think about that. He’s now your roommate you can’t do that’ all those thots fall when I pull out a baby blue pair with little cat heads wearing headsets. Different types of helicopters fill the empty space between the cat faces. I can’t but giggle holding them up, Frankie stops what he is doing and looks up, “care to explain these” holding the boxers in the air and shake them, I arch an eyebrow at him smiling 

He reaches across and snatches them from my hands “nope…” he paused for a moment fold the boxers in half “you got them” he places them on the bottom of the drawer under the pile of black ones 

“I did?” I truly don’t remember. One would think someone would remember getting boxers that looked like that 

“Yeah, Christmas a few years ago” he returns his focus to the shirts in the box

”Oh my God, you’re right. I did” I laugh

”You said, that I was impossible to shop for, and you wanted something unique to remember you when I was away” 

Frankie is the most impossible person to shop for. He always would say he didn’t need anything, he said to not waste money on a guy like him. He wasn’t worth it. I watch Frankie roll his eyes as I tell him again that he is impossible to shop for. A hint of a smile begins to appear and I think that we might have a breakthrough. I finished the box I was working on, broke it down and leaned it against the wall. Frankie pulls out his last shirt and folds it, setting it on the top of a pile. Grabbing the small stack he turns and starts to put them in the top drawer. I grab the box and start to break it down when I see a film strip inside. I reach in and grab the photos. 

I stare at them, a clean shaven, wide-eyed twenty something Francisco Morales. I had a photo from this shoot, but I never saw these two. It was before his first deployment and the guys went and did some ‘glamor shots’ as a gag gift. Frankie’s in a purple shirt and leather jacket. His brown hair falling perfectly into place. The first photo his hands are in his back pockets. Showing off his impressive chest and broad shoulders, his smile that makes one’s heart beat a little faster and an instant panty dropper. The other, I swear, he could have been a model. His arms crossed over his chest. His biceps bursting the seams of his jacket, his lips pursed together in a brooding expression. Holy shit, he’s hot…“What do we have here?”

Frankie turns and looks at me, it takes a moment for him to realize what I’m holding in my hand. “Give those here” he reaches for them and I quickly pull them away

”Nope…” I laugh and hold them up, inspecting the photos a bit more

”Lex” he says, a bit more authoritative, it’s deep and it’s sexy. He takes a step towards me, I take a couple small steps towards his open door. I try to keep a distance between us 

I have a small idea, “you want them?” I ask slowly moving backward closer to the door, he starts to close the distance nodding his head yes, “then you’ll just have to come and get them” I smile and turn to run through the door. 

He bolts out of the room following me, I forget how fast he is and how incredibly silent he can be. He’s on my heels in an instant and I run a circle around the couch. Heading past him and into the kitchen, stopping at one end of the small island. He’s facing me on the other side “Lex…” he says.  I smile, laugh and run past his outstretched arm.  

“Gotta be quicker than that Morales” I ran around the house again, waiting for him to turn and find me again. I lose my breath as I’m back in his room, the bed as a barrier between us. I look at the photos and see him strut back into his room. I clearly didn’t think this through completely as I find myself trapped on the one side of the bed. Frankie blocking the only exit. He starts to walk around the bed, he’s standing at the end while I move further up closer to the headboard. I’m waiting for him, I have my escape planned. He fakes a step to the left towards me and I step up onto his bed. The piles of shirts start to fall when I bring my other foot up. He reaches across the bed, “Bad move, Miller” he snarls and wraps a hand around my ankle pulling it out and dropping me to the bed. 

I hold the photos above my head, he pulls me closer. Placing his thigh is between my legs and crawling the bed until  he’s hovering over my body. We’re both laughing and I struggle to keep the photos out of his reach. His large hand captures both of my wrists and pins them to the bed. I squirm below him, trying to break free.  “Stop moving” he grunts, his other hand lands on my hip. Holding me tightly in place, my shirt slightly raised and his thumb slowly rubbing against my bare skin. Our laughter slowly turns into heavy breathing. 

His face is so close, I can feel his warm breath. His eyes are so full of life now, I see the small parts of the old Frankie. The Frankie that became a friend, family, a crush. My heart is pounding and I am pretty positive Frankie can hear it, his hand is setting my skin on fire and I have no idea what is happening. But I want to kiss him, I want him to kiss me, I want to feel his lips on mine. “Frankie…” I whisper 

“Hmmm” he leans closer to me, his nose brushing along mine 

I don’t know what I was going to say, I didn’t imagine us ending up like this. I clearly didn’t think this through and I have no idea what to do. Time seems to move slow, and I don’t know how long we stay like this. His eyes focused on mine, I feel like he is looking into my soul. Does he want me to kiss him? Should I kiss him? His hand still wrapped around my wrists, the other still holding my hip. 

“KISS HIM ALREADY” my inner voice yells. I finally make a move, I close the short distance between, my lips just about to touch his when my phone rings in my back pocket. His hand releases my wrists and he sits up on the bed. I close my eyes, wishing I didn’t take so long to make the move. I reach behind me, pulling out my phone. It was work, I smiled and mouth a sorry to him, sliding the answer button and bringing the phone to my ear. “Hello” I stand and walk out of his room 

“Why didn’t I kiss her? She was right there…would she even want me to kiss her?” He thinks to himself, running his fingers through his hair 

He looks at himself in the mirror. The same sweatpants he’s been wearing for well over a week, he looked like a hot mess. At least the shirt was clean, or he thought his shirt was clean. He sees the unruly hair, the 5 o’clock shadow had turned into a fully grown beard. “Because you're a pathetic loser, look at you. She’d never want you to kiss her” that negative voice inside him says. Frankie shakes his head, hands covering his face. He rubs his eyes and tries to remember Will telling him wasn’t.  But the thing is, Will was never a very good liar and the voice becomes louder and louder. 

“Fishie…hey Fish” her voice brings him back. He looks up at her “hey, you ok?

“yeah…yeah” he says, but her face tells him she doesn’t believe him. 

“uhm, ok.  I gotta run to work for a bit. I’m not sure when I’ll be home but there’s money on the table. Order some take out”  

He nods, giving her his best smile and watches as she walks away. He hears the door open and close.  Standing up he peeks his head out the door, he doesn’t hear her. He just needs to take the edge off. He knows he will feel a lot better when he can’t feel anything again. He knows he doesn’t have much left, but enough to last him at least today. He’ll worry about tomorrow-tomorrow. Thank God he hid the green can well enough that Alex didn’t find it. Just one hit, that’s all he needs.

“Take a shower, you’ll feel better after a shower. You’re better than this” he can hear Will’s voice. 

It didn’t.

“Food, get some food. Don’t do this Cat” the voice says

My phone dances on my desk as I finish some paperwork. I had plenty of PTO built up, but the doctor's office had an influx of new patients and I was one of the few who knew how to enter all the data and get them set up. It wasn’t where I pictured myself when I graduated college with a degree in film.  But it’s a good paying job, and it kept me close to home. 

Fishie 🐟: u like Pad Thai 🍲 

Me: Not really, and I don’t think that’s Pad Thai haha

Fishie 🐟: oh ok what u want? 

I type back a response, telling him to order what he wants. The money on the table was for him to do what he wanted. I might not like Pad Thai, but that shouldn’t stop him from ordering it. I finish typing a few things and grab my phone. I walked over to some of my coworkers who were getting ready to head out as well. I lean against Laura’s desk. She was chatting with a few of the nurses, I watched my phone as the little bubble with dots popped up, then disappeared, appeared again, and disappeared again. I sigh, my head drops. His mood swings are driving me insane. 

Me: I like noodles, with teriyaki sauce if that counts as Pad Thai

“What’s up Buttercup” Laura smiles cheerfully

”Have you ever had to help a friend with an addiction?” I look up, the mouths all open “seriously. A friend, not me” 

“What kind of addiction?” Laura asks, she was my go-to at work. Her upbeat attitude always had the answers 

“Narcotics…” I reply 

Is this friend living with you?” a nurse asks 

I tell them how the friend just got out of rehab, I leave out the part that the friend is a he, and the he is Frankie. I tell them how rehab said something about how they shouldn’t be left alone, doctors orders they need to live with someone in case of a relapse. “Sometimes I feel like I see the person I became friends with, then sometimes hhhh-they are a completely different person. Someone I don’t even know and it’s only been two weeks” 

“Just keep being there for them, don’t push too hard. But they need to know you are there for him. I mean them, no matter what it is, they can trust you” she puts a hand on top of mine 

“You can’t give up on them.  No matter how hard they try to push you away, you push back. They’ll have their moments but like Laura said, you just need to be there. Letting them know you won’t give up on them” 

“Thanks,” I take a deep breath and stare at my phone, he still hasn’t responded “I just wish I knew what he needed, he doesn’t talk” 

“Give it time, he will open up when he’s ready” 

'Did she just say he? How does she know' I think

I walk into the house, kicking off my shoes and dropping my purse off on the little side table. I hear grunting from down the hall. ‘Oh please don’t tell me he has a girl here’ I think to myself moving towards his room. “Frankie?” 

T-Shirts he had just folded and pants were thrown into the hall. I move towards the open door dodging pants being thrown out as I get close, I look into his room and it looks like a tornado hit. The mattress shoved against the wall, drawers empty and pulled from the dresser, clothes thrown around the room. I see Frankie bent over in his closet he had on a new pair of dark green sweats on, he’s shirtless. Little water droplets still cling to his hair and a towel draped over the back of a chair. 

“Where the fuck is it?!” he shouts as I watch him throw more things around. 

“Where is what?” I ask, and instantly regret it 

He turned quickly looking at me, his eyes filled with rage and nostrils flaring. I’ve never seen this look before, and he slowly starts to walk towards me. There’s an evil glint to his eye and it scares me. 

“Where the fuck did you put it Alexandra?” He snarls 

“If you told me what you are looking for…” I tried to not raise my voice, trying to keep calm. He needs me to remain calm. 

“YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHAT I’M LOOKING FOR! DON’T PLAY STUPID” 

The yelling intensifies and I know the neighbors can hear us, stay calm. Don’t make things worse. 

What happened to the Frankie from earlier? 

“I need you to calm down, Frankie. Please. Just tell me what you're looking for and I can help” I wanna put my hand on his shoulder, ground him. Let him know I’m here, but he’s breathing heavy, his lip curls up in an evil grin. 

“I know you have it!” he says in an oddly calm manner, “JUST GIVE IT TO ME!!!” He yells 

He takes a step closer, he raises his fist. I flinch as the closed hand comes flying towards me and it connects with the wall inches from my head. “Give it to me now Alex” he growls

“What in the hell is your problem!?” I yell shoving his chest back

“You! Benny! This stupid fucking place. I don’t want to be here!” His eyes begin to water and a tear streams down his cheek, he takes a couple steps back

“Fine, then fucking leave! No one is forcing you to be here Francisco” I try to hold back by own tears “I am sick and tired of seeing you being all mopey and shit.  You don’t want to be here, FINE” 

Shit…I am pretty sure I just over stepped. I go to open my mouth to apologize and there is a hard knock at the door followed by a “Police” 

“You called the Police?” He shouts 

“I’ve been standing in front of you the entire time arguing with you. When would I have had time to call the police?” I say, I back up and move towards the front door. The knocks become more aggressive “I’m coming!” 

I unlock the door and see three officers standing there. They all have a concerned look on their faces

”Good evening ma’am. We got a call about some yelling and wanted to make sure everything was ok” the taller officer said

”Everything is fine. It’s great. Just swell” my words are dripped with sarcasm

“Do you mind stepping outside to talk to my partner Officer James” he looks over my shoulder and sees Frankie, “hey there sir.  Mind coming over here for a moment?” 

He is sitting on the porch as she stands by the car. He fucked up, she’s given up on him. He’s given up on himself. 

“What’s your name?” The youngest officer asks him 

Frankie reads the name printed on his chest. T. Baker. “Frank, my name is Frank and everything is fine Officer Baker” 

Baker keeps asking bin questions.  What happened, did she hit him. Did he hit her? How long has he been living here? What was their relationship? Frankie becoming more annoyed with each question. What did it matter? He fucked things up and he needed a hit more then ever. He was looking for his coke, she found him on a downward spiral but there was no way he was going to tell him that. Suddenly the questions take a turn, when Officer Baker notices a tattoo on his chest. 

“What branch?” 

“Excuse me” Frankie responds confused 

“Your tattoo?”

“Oh yeah, Army. Special Ops, I was a pilot” 

He has a tattoo on the left side of his chest, a helicopter flying. A sun and clouds shaded in the background. The helicopter with incredible detail, one of the ones he first learned how to fly. A few men repelling from the bird.  Just below a group of trees

“Thank you for your service sir.  Wait here, I have some stuff for you” Baker nods his head and walks to the patrol car 

He watches him shuffle down the stairs, he sees Alex and for a moment they lock eyes. His heart nearly stops as he sees the tears in her eyes that she quickly wipes away. He caused this pain and for what, a stupid little hit that was nearly enough to take away the pain. He ruined everything. The afternoon was so great, and now she wants him out. Officer Baker was walking back with a stack of papers in his hand. 

“For the hundredth time, he didn’t hurt me. He would never do that” I groaned. I have said the same thing over and over. Are they trying to get a different answer? Despite Frankie punching a hole in the wall, he would never lay a hand on me. 

I pinch the bridge of my nose and close my eyes taking in a deep breath. When I open my eyes, I see Frankie. His eyes locked onto mine. The hurt, the pain, he looks lost. The officer hands him a stack of papers. His hands shaking as he takes them, he turns his head down and he walks into the house. 

“Ms. Miller, if you need anything else please give us a call” the officer sees his small notebook and sticks it in his chest pocket. “Have a good night” he walks past me and heads to his car. 

I head to the steps of my front porch watching the officer who had spoken to Frankie walk down. He stops me before I walk past him, “he’ll be ok. Just give it time. I’ve been there. He’s got a good girlfriend, just be patient with him” 

I stop in my tracks, my jaw drops. What the hell did Frankie tell him? “Wait…what?” I ask. But it was too late, the officer already getting back into his car. I shake my head and walk into the house locking the door behind me. 

It’s getting late and I’m hungry. I walk past the hallway that leads to the bedrooms and notice Frankie bent over picking up the clothes that had been thrown into the hallway. I should say something, I should apologize to him. I get distracted, watching the muscles in his back strain with every movement. ‘Focus Alex’. What is wrong with me, this man just put me through a roller coaster of emotions. I can’t get distracted by something as stupid as watching him work. 

I shake my head and walk towards the kitchen. I hope to find some leftover takeout since I know the fridge is empty. Instead I find the $20 left on the table in the same exact place I left it. I can’t leave, that would require me letting Frankie know, and it might be petty but I really don’t want to talk to him right now, maybe even for the rest of the night. I open the freezer and pray that the ice cream is still there. I open the door and find the pint of cookie dough ice cream still sitting there. I do a little happy dance and grab a spoon. I make my way to the living room and flop down on the sofa, turning on the TV and pop the top off digging in. 

“I fucked up…” he says to himself folding the shirts, putting them back in the dresser. He pushes the mattress back onto the frame and sits on the edge of his bed. He looks up and sees the hole he had punched into the wall. An image of Alex’s face floods his memory. He fucked up so bad that she didn’t even say two words to him when she came back into the house. He left the pamphlets on the coffee table, she’s going to find them. He knows it.

The papers were for local rehabs where VA’s held sobriety classes.  They had everything from AA to NA to Gambling. He didn’t want to go to rehab again, he felt more alone then he ever had there. That’s where he met George, well Steve really. He made it though those 30 days thanks to him smuggling in just enough coke to help them both function like normal adults. Nicole, well she helped in other ways. One keeping his secret and she helped him take his mind off things when he was able to bury himself in her. She wasn’t who he wanted, but she was there.  She was a quick fuck. It didn’t mean anything, and he felt bad when he told her it wasn’t going to last when he left. His mind racing with all these thoughts, he’ll finish cleaning later. He’ll patch the hole tomorrow. Right now he has something bigger to take care of. He needs to repair this whatever-ship he had with Alex. He needs her. 

He plops on the couch next to her, she doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t even look at him, she focused on the ice cream in her hand and the moving pictures on the TV

”Ice cream for dinner?” He asks ‘great icebreaker Morales, you idiot’ his inner demon mocks him 

“Yeah, the perk of being an adult. No one can tell me what to eat Franklin” she stuffs another spoon into her mouth, “that and someone didn’t buy dinner like I told them too” 

‘She called me Franklin…maybe she’s not that mad’ he reads her face, it’s softened…a hint of a smile. Then she said that last part, and it changes to instant regret. She turns to look at him “shit. I’m so sorry that was-“ 

“No…no I deserved that” he interrupts her, “can I have a bite?” 

She eyes him, something between a grin and a smirk on her face. She sticks the spoon into the ice cream and scoops out a tiny pile, moving the spoon to his open mouth. 

“I’m sorry Lex he says mouth full of ice cream

He looks at the ground, he’s picking at his nails. I can see the inner struggle he’s having and it breaks my heart, I have no idea how to help. I watch as his mind tries to find the words he wants to say. I go to open my mouth, but he stops me “I am really sorry” he says again 

“What happened today?” I ask him setting the ice cream on the table and turning to face him 

“I was looking for…fuck…I was looking for some coke. I thought I had some left. I am so sorry. I didn’t want to do this. I don’t want to do this. Rehab didn’t do shit” he’s talking fast and I’m trying to keep up. 

He tells me about George, how they were doing just enough to get by.  Nicole helped them not get caught. He doesn’t know how George was able to get the contraband in, but he did. They exchanged information, and he was helping Frankie. He wasn’t doing as much as he used to, which I guess is good, he thought he had some left.  A small tin can was what he was looking for, he was terrified that I found it when we were unpacking. 

“How many days has it been?” I ask 

“I don’t know, maybe five days?” He doesn’t sound very positive 

“Maybe five days? How many days Frankie?” 

“Three…it’s been three days and I am going crazy” he says ‘then we almost kissed and I panicked and I was on edge and just needed a hit’ he thinks to himself 

“ok” she says and stands up. 

“Wait where are you going?” He asks, panic setting in 

He’s worried that she is going to get his bag, she’s gonna ask him to leave. This is too much, this isn’t what she signed up for. She’s given up on him. His head falls back, he wants this couch to eat him alive. He wanted to disappear before and that feeling is ten times worse, now that she knows his secret. 

She comes back a large poster in her hand, the other has a sharpie and stickers. She sits it on the table and sits on the floor next to Frankie. He watches as she makes little boxes, writing dates, making a calendar. Her tongue peeks out of her tongue as she concentrates on the task at hand. He leans forwards, and continues to watch over her shoulder. She looks up at him, “ok did you use today?”

He shakes his head no “I couldn’t find it”

“right..” she puts a little star sticker on today's date “and you said three days since the last time”

He nods. She puts a sticker on the past three days

“What are you doing?” He asks 

That was a great question. What was I doing? This idea sounded crazy in my head, even more crazy as I explained to Frankie. It would be like a reward chart.  Something like when you were a kid and had chores, you’d get a sticker for each thing completed. The more stickers you get a reward. The more I say this, and look at his face of confusion the more dumb this idea sounded. He isn’t a kid, I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing. 

“This is stupid, just forget it.” I sigh pushing the stuff away from me

His large hands stop the poster from moving, he brings it closer. 

“What is my reward?” He asks curiously 

“Uhm…what do you want?” 

“Pancakes…” he says

”Pancakes? Really?” and he nods “ok how about we start with a week, you make it a week, I’ll make you pancakes” 

“With sprinkles?” His boyish smile is back, his eyes wide and I have a little hope that this stupid, wacky, insane idea might work

I smile and nod at him. I move to sit next to him on the couch, “I’ll have to go buy some. But sure, you can have sprinkles” 

“Hey Lexi, one more thing?” He asks “Can we get some helicopter stickers?”

I smile and cup his cheek, my thumb gently brushing the trimmed beard, “yes Franklin. We can get some helicopter stickers” 

ANN: A huge shout out to @musings-of-a-rose for helping me with this and giving me confidence to post this in first person. I am still terrified of it. @theewokingdead and @heythere-mel for listening to my random ass ideas at all hours. I love each and every one of you.



Looking for more of my fics check out my masterlist. And check out other writers at @littlemisspascal and their library for all Pedro Characters



Just A Dream Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

#Christina Writes #Just A Dream #Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal Characters #Frankie Morales #Francisco Morales #Triple Frontier #Pedro Pascal Characters Fan Fic #Frankie Morales x OFC #Original Female Character #Frankie x F!Reader #triple frontier au

[perfectfeelings]

You put your arms around me and I'm home.

Christina Perri - Arms

#Christina Perri - Arms #motivation #quotes #poetry #literature #relationship quotes #writing #original #words #love #relationship #thoughts #lit #prose #spilled ink #inspiring quotes #life quotes #quoteoftheday #love quotes #poem #aesthetic

[quotefeeling]

You put your arms around me and I'm home.

Christina Perri - Arms

#Christina Perri - Arms #motivation #quotes #poetry #literature #relationship quotes #writing #original #words #love #relationship #thoughts #lit #prose #spilled ink #inspiring quotes #life quotes #quoteoftheday #love quotes #poem #aesthetic

[thoughtkick]

You're beautiful no matter what they say.

Christina Aguilera

#Christina Aguilera #motivation #quotes #poetry #literature #relationship quotes #writing #original #words #love #relationship #thoughts #lit #prose #spilled ink #inspiring quotes #life quotes #quoteoftheday #love quotes #poem #aesthetic

[floralcyanide]

― 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚜 (nsfw)

⌯ pairing: bale!bruce wayne / afab!reader ⌯ warnings: smut, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, oral sex (f receiving), overstimulation, fingering, nipple play, friends to lovers, love confessions, mentions of fear toxin (dcu), no gender affirming language other than anatomy description ⌯ word count: 2.5k ⌯ summary: based on these prompts: “I dreamed of your legs wrapped around my waist.” and “How do you always end up under my blanket?” your best friend bruce wayne has been missing for a while. when he comes back, he has a confession to make. ⌯ author’s note: this took a little while to write because I wanted to write an actual fic for bale!bruce. I hope yall enjoy (:

divider credit: @arminsumi | @firefly-graphics | @cafekitsune ⌯ masterlist ⌯ taglist form

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ.

You’re busying yourself by folding laundry, trying your best to get your mind off your best friend Bruce. While his job is very demanding, and he goes away for a while sometimes, he’s never been gone this long. You’re beginning to worry- so much so that you’ve lost sleep and the ability to eat properly. But you know Bruce, and you know he’s resilient. It’s just a matter of time. But, of course, he was presumed dead for years before now, and that will always haunt you. So it’s not entirely irrational of you to worry.

A knock at your apartment door startles you out of your sleepy stupor. You set down the towel you were folding before shuffling to the entrance. You peek through the peephole to see none other than Bruce standing there. You swing the door open, and Bruce immediately wraps his arms around you. You do the same to him, holding him tightly, fearing that this is some hallucination from lack of sleep. Your face is buried in Bruce’s chest, and his scent tells you that this is real and he’s really here with you. 

“Where were you?” you whisper, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

It had been quite a few days of radio silence from Bruce. You know he’s Batman, and he keeps you updated on his safety status. But he, of course, doesn’t tell you details of the villains and crimes for your safety. You’re his childhood best friend, so you knew he was Batman before he even told you. The day he told you, you just laughed. “I know, Bruce.” But you were still very concerned about his well-being after trying to approach one of his enemies. 

“One of the guys I was after had a toxin,” Bruce pulls away from you, looking around to ensure no one would hear, “It got to me.”

You furrow your eyebrow, “Come in.”

Bruce enters your apartment, waiting for you to close and lock the door. He shoves his hands into his pockets, unsure of whether or not he should explain the situation at all. But he knows he owes you an explanation. 

“A toxin, huh?” you ask, crossing your arms as you lean against the door.

“Fear toxin.” Bruce clarifies, “It makes you hear and see the things you fear the most, but they aren’t really there.”

You shudder, “That sounds horrifying. And you said you experienced it? How long did it last?”

“I was out for a few days while Alfred worked with someone to make an antidote. I saw things. Things I didn’t want to.”

You pull away from the door and slowly walk to Bruce, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Bruce looks at you as you stand before him, “No, but I probably should anyway. Considering the things I was seeing.”

You pull the sides of Bruce’s jacket together, holding onto them as you search his eyes. They’re different, and you figure it’s from whatever he experienced from the fear toxin.

“What did you see, Bruce?”

Bruce grimaces with a nervous laugh, “Are you sure you want to know?”

You look at him and nod, still clutching his jacket. 

“I saw you,” Bruce sighs, shaking his head, “Something kept hurting you and killing you over and over. And there was nothing I could do to stop it.”

You stare up at Bruce with a frown etched on your face at the thought of your best friend feeling helpless. 

“That sounds awful,” you say.

“It just made me think about a lot and realize things I didn’t see before.”

Bruce turns his thoughts over carefully, choosing what exactly to say next. He had always loved you, sure. But Bruce never thought of it as a romantic thing. Not until the fear toxin made him see things and feel things he had never felt or seen before. He wants to protect and care for you so you never have to go through what he saw you go through. Even though it isn’t plausible that you would, Bruce still wants what is best for you because he does love you. A little more now than he did before. You, on the other hand, have always loved Bruce. You've been enthralled with his presence since you were kids playing in the Wayne Manor backyard. Everything he did amazed you, especially now with him helping the people of Gotham. His intelligence, softness, even the cockiness he sometimes lets seep through. Even before, when he was a slightly bratty rich guy, you loved him. Bruce's absence for days has made your feelings for him more intense. With love comes worry and concern.

“And what would that be?” you ask.

Bruce pulls your hands from his jacket, enveloping them in his, “You’ve always been here for me, and I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner. I love you and will always do anything to protect you.”

“I love you too, Bruce,” you say back, not realizing the total weight of his words.

“No,” he says, “I really do. It’s taken me this long to see, but I do love you. And not like a best friend.”

Your face softens, “Bruce, you don’t mean that-”

“No, I do mean it,” he says, squeezing your hands.

There’s a pregnant pause before Bruce slowly leans down to capture your lips with his in a swift, gentle motion. The world seems to stop around the two of you, the sirens outside quieting and the sound of your washing machine fading away. Bruce lets go of you and cradles your head in his hands, deepening the passionate-turning kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him ever closer. Bruce slips his tongue past your lips, battling yours for dominance, which you gladly let him take. He guides you backward until the base of your spine is pressed against the kitchen counter. Bruce moves his grasp from your hair to your thighs, where he hikes them up around his waist. He smiles into the kiss, and you pick up on it.

“What?” you ask, pulling away briefly.

“I dreamed of your legs wrapped around my waist.”

You feel a warmth spread along your ears at that confession. Trailing your palms up Bruce’s neck and past his jaw to his cheeks, you stare into his eyes. A smile spreads across his face into slight laughter, to which you mirror. 

“What else have you dreamed of, Bruce?”

“Want me to show you?”

A nod of your head leads to Bruce walking you to your bedroom, still perched on his waist. He gently lies you down on the bed before climbing over you, his strong arms on either side of your head. He lowers himself onto you to kiss you again, his weight on his forearms by your ears. Bruce then moves to your jaw, teasing you with small kisses and nips. You can’t help but giggle at the feeling of his stubble on your skin, tickling it. Bruce travels down your neck and then down to your torso, where he lifts your shirt and kisses your stomach. You watch with content as he tugs your shirt over his head so he can reach higher to your breasts. You don’t wear a bra when at home, so Bruce has easy access to them. He softly kisses your skin, avoiding the areas you want him most. You open your mouth to joke about it, but before you can say a word, his fingers pinch one of your nipples as he lays his head by the other. Bruce shoves your shirt to your shoulders, resuming his previous position of pressing his cheek to your left breast and toying with the right one with his hand. With a slight movement of his head, Bruce is now suckling your unoccupied bud. Your hips buck into his stomach, and you feel his length growing hard against your leg. Bruce gazes up at you through his lashes, his eyes a little darker than before. Your hand finds its way to his hair, fingers tangling themselves in it. 

Bruce tweaks your nipple with his teeth as he rolls the other with his fingers, making electricity jolt through you. A gasp leaves your lips at the sensation, your grip on Bruce’s hair tightening briefly. He leaves open-mouthed kisses along your breasts before moving down your sternum and stomach, toying with the hem of your sweatpants. Bruce glances up at you to ask for permission, and you nod.

“You can touch me.”

Bruce pulls your sweatpants down, and you kick them off the rest of the way. He bites and licks the skin of your thighs before cupping your clothed heat with his mouth. Bruce flattens his tongue against you, dragging it upward against the cotton material of your underwear. You whine at the contact, wanting something a little more direct. With your hands still in Bruce’s hair, you remove them, moving them to pull down the barrier between you and Bruce’s mouth. He helps you with a knowing smirk. He softly kisses your clit before letting his tongue delve into your wetness, a sharp inhale through your nose letting him know it feels good. You would be lying if you had said you hadn’t thought of this exact moment before. Bruce steadies your hips with his hands, his fingers digging into your flesh. When the tip of his tongue comes in contact with your bundle of sensitive nerves, you attempt to buck your hips up to no avail. Bruce is incredibly strong, so you had no chance of moving. But he begins to guide your hips up and down, making you ride his tongue on his own accord. You move with what he’ll allow along with his guidance, and pleasure flowers through you. Bruce coaxes a finger into you, the feeling of him exploring you with it making you moan loudly. When he finds your spot, he adds another finger to circle it slowly. You gasp, biting your lip to keep from moaning too loud again.

“No,” Bruce shakes head, pulling away from you and stopping his movements, “I want to hear you, sweetheart.”

“Fine,” you exhale, hands clutching the bed sheets.

Bruce resumes pumping his fingers in and out of you while pressing his fingertips to your spot every now and then, eliciting noises from you that you’ve never let out with anyone else. He laps at your clit simultaneously, and he allows you to move your hips freely as he spreads your legs with his free hand. You feel yourself becoming lost in pleasure, your head cloudy and letting out noises without a second thought. Bruce feels you tightening around his fingers, signaling you’re close to release. So, he pulls away from you and sits up on his knees. You wriggle at the loss of his fingers, but he quickly replaces them with the tip of his hardened length. Bruce holds you still with one hand as he drags himself up and down your weeping cunt with the other. You pull your shirt the rest of the way off as Bruce slowly pushes himself inside you. Giving you a moment to adjust, he peels off his own shirt and tosses it before continuing to thrust slowly into you. 

When he’s entirely inside, he notices you taking deep breaths, “All good?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “It’s just been a while.”

That and Bruce is well endowed, so you have to relax fully to take him comfortably. When you finally feel comfortable enough to move, you give your hips an experimental roll. Both you and Bruce groan at the feeling, to which Bruce pulls out a little before pushing back in. 

“Don’t be shy, Bruce,” you joke, “You can go faster.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” Bruce smiles deviously down at you.

He picks your legs up and lays them on his shoulders before he begins to pound into you, leaving you gasping for air. You grip Bruce’s biceps, his rhythm is merciless as your bed frame squeaks underneath you. He moves you upward to the pillows so you can rest your head on them and so he can grip the headboard for leverage. Bruce’s hips snap forward rapidly, just as he assured, and he has to put a pillow above your head so it doesn’t slam into the bedframe. Your moans are incoherent at this point, and your eyes are wound shut.

“Look at me, babe,” Bruce says, moving a hand from your thigh to your cheek, bringing you out of your fog.

You open your eyes to gaze into his, Bruce pressing his chest to yours and fucking you at a new angle as he puts his forehead against yours. You gasp and pant into each other’s mouth before finally embracing in a heated kiss. Deciding to switch up the angle, Bruce removes your legs from his shoulders and spreads them apart as far as they go. You howl into the kiss as Bruce hits that spot inside you, driving you crazy. 

“Right there, Bruce,” you manage to stutter, “Right there!”

He hooks his arms under your knees, slamming you against him even harder than before. Bruce presses a thumb to your clit, rubbing tight circles into it. You curse, no longer caring if your neighbors hear you or your bed slamming into the wall. Heat builds up in your belly as you struggle to maintain eye contact with Bruce, stars flooding your vision. He hits that spot inside you harder than before, sending you over the edge in a snap. Your walls clench around Bruce, causing his orgasm to unfold shortly behind yours. The feeling of him emptying into you coaxes your release to last longer, and Bruce not letting up on your clit adds to the overstimulation. You cry out as another orgasm washes over you, and Bruce hisses from his own overstimulation. He curses under his breath as he pulls out of you, hurrying to your closet for a towel. Bruce cleans the two of you up as you work to bring yourself back to Earth. 

“That,” you say, Bruce hovering over you, “was amazing.”

“You’re amazing,” Bruce says, and you both laugh at his cheesiness.

Rolling over to lie next to you, Bruce pulls the blanket on his side of the bed over him, and you do the same. But the ownership of blankets doesn’t last long as you cuddle. You manage to pull Bruce’s blanket over to your side, much like you used to when you were both younger. You had sleepovers a lot, and you’d always somehow end up stealing Bruce’s blanket.

“How do you always end up under my blanket?” Bruce sighs.

You peek at him, opening your closed eyes momentarily before shrugging, stifling a laugh. Bruce pulls your head into his neck before kissing your hair, allowing you to doze off. Even if the things he saw during the toxin’s hold on him were disturbing, at least it allowed him to see things more clearly and find his way to you. 

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x reader smut #bruce wayne smut #batman x reader #batman x reader smut #batman smut #batman begins #bale!bruce wayne #bale!batman x reader #christian bale #christian bale x reader #christian bale x reader smut #christina bale smut #floralcyanide writes #pop up workshop

[perfectquote]

What does ‘I love you’ even mean? It’s weird how different three words can feel. I mean, I’ve said it before but it’s never felt so… big, you know? I’m not sure it meant the same thing then. Like, I was too young to get it.

Christina Lauren, Beautiful Stranger

#Christina Lauren #motivation #quotes #poetry #literature #relationship quotes #writing #original #words #love #relationship #thoughts #lit #prose #spilled ink #inspiring quotes #life quotes #quoteoftheday #love quotes #poem #aesthetic

[emlovessid]

november 28, soft, 223 words unofficial jegulus microfics with @onehundredflamingos

This is not how he had expected their night to go, James on the couch, Regulus straddling his lap. Not that he’s complaining; they've been on the brink of something for what feels like forever.

James stills when Regulus’ hands move up to the side of his face, fingers wrapping around the arms of his glasses and pulling them from his face. Regulus leans off his lap for a moment to fold them and place them on the coffee table behind him, before settling back right on top of James.

He can’t help the tears that spring to his eyes. Sure, he’s had people take off his glasses for him before, but it’s usually in a moment of passion, glasses being tugged off and thrown aside when they’re getting in the way. But never has someone handled them – handled him – with such gentleness and care.

Regulus’ hands return to his face then, this time to cradle his cheeks, touch soft as he runs a thumb across James’ cheekbone before leaning down and bringing their lips together. James sits up straighter as his arms wrap around Regulus’ waist, like he can squish out every last molecule of space between them; and even that wouldn’t be close enough.

James has never been in love before, but he thinks this might be what it feels like.

#shout out to christina and persephony for the glasses brainrot #jegulus #jegulus fic #marauders #sometimes i write things

[peterparkeeperer]

quick breathing (cristina yang x gn!reader)

You had been resting in the oncall room when the door had been roughly opened. You flinched, and sat up with an elbow supporting your weight. You squinted, and Cristina’s wild locks created a halo around her. She stepped in before leaning against the closed door.

She smoothed her hair back, seemingly unconsciously. She then swiped her finger under her nose quickly with an indecipherable look in her eye.

“I…like you. Okay?”

Flabbergasted, you laid dumbly.

“Okay?” Was all you could say. She nodded.

“Okay. Alright. That’s it.”

She then turned sharply towards the door, seemingly to leave. In a millisecond of confusion, it then took you another second to barely grasp what she was saying. You got out of bed fully and rushed to grab her arm. With the door halfway open you pushed her back in and closed it.

“Woah, wait a minute, you can’t just leave after saying that!”

“I can’t?”

“No!”

It was awkwardly silent for a moment. It fully hit you then, what she’d said.

“You like me.” You said, incredibly soft. Your head felt so mushy that you just had to tilt it as you looked at her infront if you.

She seemed unable to make eye contact, and her eyes flit from your shoulders to your eyes, to your throat. “Well, don’t make a big deal out of it.”

Your hand that was gripping her long sleeved covered forearm stroked upwards, and with this simple yet conscious move her eyes shot to yours and stayed there. It was your turn to feel nervous. Nervous infront of this amazing woman, focused fully, yet completely unpredictable.

Your fingers traveled across the bow of her shoulder, and finally to where her blue scrub ended by her throat. Then, with a slight tremble she probably caught, you held her cheek tenderly. It fit perfectly, as if meant to hold her. Her dark locks tickled the back of your hand.

You needed a second to move, but Cristina never had and never would, and therefore it was her who crashed her lips to yours. Her body that had been still was suddenly moving against yours, and the feeling of her quick breathing against your chest was euphoric.

You admired cardio before, but now more than ever. All hearts did the same, beat the same, but her’s was so strong, and you almost wished you could feel it directly in your hands. Her life, her very ambitions beating a wild beat into your palms.

#gn reader #greys anatomy #cristina yang x reader #christina yang #cristina yang #just a little drabble (what does Drabble even mean?) #I write the most random characters ever. want her so bad though #greys anatomy x reader #hehe

[resqectable]

You're beautiful. No matter what they say.

Christina Aguilera, Beautiful

#Christina Aguilera #motivation #quotes #poetry #literature #relationship quotes #writing #original #words #love #relationship #thoughts #lit #prose #spilled ink #inspiring quotes #life quotes #quoteoftheday #love quotes #poem #aesthetic

[thehopefulquotes]

You're beautiful. No matter what they say.

Christina Aguilera, Beautiful

#Christina Aguilera #motivation #quotes #poetry #literature #relationship quotes #writing #original #words #love #relationship #thoughts #lit #prose #spilled ink #inspiring quotes #life quotes #quoteoftheday #love quotes #poem #aesthetic

[smolmakerel]

"Do you sit down in the shower, Tara?"

Tara blinked in surprised before narrowing her eyes. "What?"

Her new therapist, Abby Turner, was staring at her with a relaxed expression of genuine curiosity. She didn't really look the part of a therapist, sitting there in a yellow cardigan that matched the socks with SpongeBob on them. If anything, she looked a lot like a teacher Tara had in second grade minus the thick rimmed glasses.

"Do you sit down whenever you take a shower?" Abby asked again, shifting to cross her legs. She drew her fingernail over the metal clip of her clipboard.

Still, Tara was taken aback by such a question. She felt oddly seen through.

"Why?" Tara shot back instead.

Abby laughed softly. "There's no need to be defensive. I was going over our notes from last time and thought about what you said."

What she said? What did Tara say, exactly?

"I don't remember saying anything bad," mumbled Tara.

"No, nothing bad. I'm sorry if I made you panic."

At that, Tara hardened her gaze and looked away. Leave it to the therapist to know when her thoughts were spiraling out of control. God, Tara only had 7 sessions with her, and Abby thought she knew everything about Tara.

"It's ok if you do," Abby went on to say. Tara's face soured, and Abby unfortunately caught that. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Another one?" Tara tried to joke, but Abby saw through her facade. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to play 20 questions."

She chuckled awkwardly. "Why do you sit down in the shower?"

"Because... I uh..."

"Take your time."

Tara was at a loss for words. Why did she sit down in the shower? She never really noticed she did it until Abby sent her back with homework to figure out things she noticed about her dailey routine. Which included an hour long shower; Tara would be sitting in the tub allowing the hot water to hit her back. While she sat, tremors would rack her body and her irritation would rise.

"I get in the shower in the morning," Tara explained slowly, still processing her thoughts. "Before class so no one has to see me all... icky."

"And do you think there might be another reason for sitting down?" Abby inquired. "I only ask because of your water bottle comment."

Tara looked unsure at that. She brought her hands to her lap to fidget with her nails. The comfortable gray armchair she sat on never felt more uncomfortable under the watchful eye of her therapist.

"S-Sorry, but I don't remember talking about that."

"That's ok," her therapist assured her. "Last time, you talked about how you needed to clean your room. You have a lot of water bottles on your table and floor, clothes in your bed."

Recognition flashed in Tara's eyes. "Right. Sorry."

"Depression and anxiety after a traumatic event is completely normal, Tara. In fact, I would be surprised if you didn't have one of those with what you've been through."

Tara shrugged. "It's nothing. Other people have been through more than me; I'm just being selfish."

Selfish. She had always been selfish; even her own mother thought so, and she made sure to remind Tara anytime she was in town.

Abby wrote something down, nodding to herself as if all of Tara's issues were understandable now.

"I sit on the floor," Tara suddenly said in the uncomfortable silence. She didn't look at her therapist at all, ashamed. "I get so... tired sometimes. And it isn't because of the metal in my leg! It's me! I wake up tired, go through the day angry because of how tired I am, and go to sleep tired. But then I can't sleep and I just..." She huffed in frustration, nails dug into her palms. "I don't know what to do."

Abby leaned back in her chair and flipped her clipboard over on her lap. Her eyes watched Tara's face closely.

"Is there anything you have that could help you sleep?" Abby asked. "A stuffed animal, a nightlight...?"

Tara's mind immediately drifted to her older sister. Sam was strong enough to keep Tara's night terrors away, yet she's soft enough to wrap Tara in her arms and calm her down. No matter how much Tara yells and sobs in her sleep, no matter the bloody scratch marks on her arms, no matter how Tara dissociates to protect herself. Sam was always there.

"No," Tara claimed instead.

Abby cocked her head. "And your sister isn't willing to help you?"

Tara shook her head. "No, she is but... I don't want to bother her with my problems."

Abby flipped her clipboard back over and wrote something down. Tara wanted to chuck the damn thing out the window. She lowered the clipboard again.

"Based on what you've told me about your sister, she sounds like just the person you need at night," Abby pointed out with a soft smile. "I'm sure she'd be willing to help if you asked."

'But I can't!' The words burn acid on Tara's tongue.

"Ok."

Fuck.

[♡♡♡]

Tara raised her hand at Sam's door and drew it into a fist. It hovered in the air for a long few seconds.

Then she knocked.

The door opened not even a second later, and Sam was standing there rubbing her eyes.

"Tara?" Sam mumbled. She instantly woke up, eyes darting over Tara looking for some sort of injury. "Are you ok? What are you doing up right now?"

"Can... Can I sleep in here with you?" Tara asked and before Sam could respond, she was babbling. "I'm sorry if I woke you up with this. Fuck, I'm so stupid. This was a mistake, I didn't mean to wake you up with my stupid problems. I-I'll go back to my room. Sorry -"

"Tara."

Tara's breathing hitched when Sam gently cupped her face, and - Oh. That was actually kind of nice. She sank into the warmth of Sam's palms.

"Let's go to bed, ok?" Sam whispered.

Tara nodded, throat thick with emotion. "Ok."

It was about 20 minutes later when they were settled in Sam's bed. Tara was dozing off finally, face buried into Sam's chest as her arms wrapped around her.

She stirred slightly when Sam kissed the top of her head. Her fingers tucked a few strands of hair out of Tara's face.

"I love you, Tara," Sam muttered.

Tara, too exhausted to say anything, simply turned her head and kissed Sam on the palm. She settled back down and relaxed into a peaceful sleep.

#scream #scream 2022 #scream vi #sam carpenter #tara carpenter #I was tempted to make the therapist bad but then I thought of my therapist and how nice she is and thought “better not” #They're so soft for each other #I'm still figuring out how to write them tbh #So enjoy while I'm working on breaking your hearts in my next post #Tara learning how to ask for help after everything #She trusts Sam but doesn't trust herself #And it's all because of Christina fucking Carpenter #Fuck Christina Carpenter #My writing

[icanbeyourjedi-writes]

It Was Just A Dream Chapter One

Summary: Think of the worst day of your life, and times that by ten. Finding Frankie hanging on to life by a thread was not something Alex Miller ever thought would happen.  When he goes to rehab she thinks things will be better, that was until her step-brother Benny who just happened to also be Frankie’s roommate got called back to action. And now Frankie is her responsibility.  And she has no idea what the hell to do.  Words: 6311  Rating: 18+ SMUT, Adult ThemesWarnings/Triggers:  Addiction, Falling for Your Brothers Friend, Language, Reader is somewhat described--longer hair, but no race/eye color/body type--   A/N: I don’t know much about addiction, just the things that I googled. This is completely an AU. I had the beginning of this story pop in my head randomly and thought it sounded fun to explore. Sure we all love Frankie was that sweet puppy dog…but what if he had his own inner demons he had to battle with.  The ‘coke charge’ was mentioned in TF and I kinda wanted to explore that side of him. 

Just A Dream Masterlist

**This is written as first person, and its my first time writing in first person, so please be gentle with me. I also include Frankie's POV which will be Bold and Italics

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

It was an early June morning.  The rain outside gently tapping against the windowpane.  The window still cracked open from the night before letting in a cool breeze that fills the space.  The coarse hair under his chin tickled my bare shoulder.  Small goosebumps rise on my arm as he lifts his head and places a kiss on the exposed skin.  A sigh of content makes him smile.  His skilled, calloused fingers trail up and down the curves of my body.  His lips find my shoulder again as his hand wraps around me, his large hand finding a home on my bare stomach.  Those long fingers of his inching lower and lower, giving me every chance to tell him to stop.  Instead I wiggle back, closer to him pressing my body against his.

His thick member pressed against me, just begging to let him in.  Grinding against him, letting him know that I want it too.  His hand wraps around the meat of my thigh, lifting it up and angling himself to get closer, the tip just teasing my entrance now. At what feels like a snail's pace he begins to push himself inside. Filling me with exactly what I wanted, and him being embraced by the warmth he so desperately craved.  I could get use to this wake up call, and he seems to enjoy it too.

“Mmmhmm” I sigh.  Eyes still closed, caught in that hazy state.  Somewhere between dreamland and reality.  I moan again as he pushes further, my hand that was gripping the bed sheet moves behind me searching for him.  Cupping his cheek, he turns and places a kiss to my palm before my fingers slide further back finding those luscious chestnut brown locks.  I’ve always been jealous of his hair, how soft it was, those curls that formed perfectly at the nape of his neck, you’d have to kill me before I’d ever actually admit to that though.

He takes his time, slowly pulling out before snapping his hips to fill me again.  His tights slapping against the back of mine with every thrust.  Unlike last night, there is no rush.  No hurry, no fear of getting caught.  Slow, and lazy letting us both enjoy this time.  His deep throaty grunts against my skin, and breathy moans of his name fill the space in between thrusts.  Fingers tangled into his hair, he thrusts harder and deeper, hitting that spot just right, working me closer and closer to the edge.  Pulling his hair only makes him work harder to fill my every need and desire.  I pull his hair, bringing his lips to mine.  Moving my body just enough that he starts to hit that spot, that spot only he has found. He swallows my moan, my walls tighten around him gripping him like a vice.  Feeling very ridge of his thick cock.  One…Two…Three more strong, deep thrusts have him spilling into me, painting my walls with everything he has to give.  My fingers still tangled into his hair, holding him close, terrified if I let him go he’ll float away.

He continues to slowly rock his hips, riding out the high he’s just given me.  Our lips move as one, the kisses slow, tender.  Bodies tangled together, he has taken my breath away literally and figuratively.  I have to pull away at some point, turning my head away from him to try and catch my breath.  His lips brush over the shell of my ear, his deep baritone voice asking if I was ok, and nod a yes to him before turning to find his eyes and I know that this is what heaven is.  He kisses my cheek, kissing every inch of skin he can working his way down to my jaw, my neck, my shoulder.  My skin burns with every kiss, every nerve being brought to life.  Feeling his teeth graze against my skin before he bites down.  His teeth are digging in and there is a loud banging on the bedroom door, my eyes fly open.

Sitting up, I see Frankie leaning against the doorframe of the now open door, “Rise and shine…” he smiles, my face is in complete shock and he must have noticed, “shit Lex, are you ok?”

I don’t answer him right away, he calls my name again.  Shaking my head, trying to figure out how just moments again that man who was balls deep, worshiping my naked body is now fully clothed leaning against my doorframe. “Hmm? Oh yeah, yeah.  I’m great.  Just a uh just a dream” I finally respond. 

SIX YEARS EARLIER

I just settled down on the back patio, a good book in hand and a rush cup of coffee, which some might say was more creamer than coffee. But I don’t care, it had been a long week in the office, and I was ready to sit and relax on a Saturday morning. The familiar ringtone of ‘I’m bringing sexy back’ started to play, a ringtone that he picked just to annoy the shit outta me.  Before I was even able to say hello after pushing the green button, his panicked voice came through the speaker.

“Alex, I think I lost Fish…” I hear him running around his house

“How in the hell do you lose a fully grown man Benjamin?” I groaned, pinching the bridge of my nose.  I was tired, and I didn’t wanna deal with this shit today

“Gee, I don’t know Alexandra…”he says my name sarcastically “...maybe, it could be because I was distracted by this banging redhead I brought him from the bar last night”

“Ew, eww, ewww…gross Ben” I stop him before he can continue “I don’t need to hear or know any of this information.  Step-sister or not, I don’t need or want to know the details of your sex life.  That is a line we do not cross”

My name is Alexandra, or Alex Miller.  I joined the Miller clan when I was about 8 years old, same age as Benny, Benjamin Miller.  And a few years younger than Will, our older brother.  My mom was a widow and met Mr. Miller on an on-line dating site before on-line dating was cool.  Sure, we Miller kids became close over the years, but you are never that close to share that kind of information, real siblings or step siblings.

“When was the last time you saw him?” I ask 

“This morning, when the sun was rising. I was brining Stephanie some coffee” he sounded so proud of himself for remembering the girls name, “I walked by his room and he was still laying in bed, it’s been about an hour since I last saw him” he sighs “can you please help me find him”

“You last an hour?” I try to joke with him

“Not the time for your little jabs Miller. Help me find him” 

“Of course, call if you find him first” I end the call and slide the phone into my leggings pocket, dumping the coffee into the sink and throwing the rest of the coffee in the sink.  Grabbing a hoodie and the car keys I jog to my car.  It was time to find Fish.

Before I back out of the driveway I remember a text from him earlier in the morning, I didn’t think much of it.  He had been sending a lot of random one word texts to me lately

Fishie 🐟: Lexi, I’m sorry

He was the only person in the world that was allowed to call me that

I knew where he was, it’s the same place I would go when the world and life became too much and I wanted to escape. I showed him this park the first time we met.  It was after Benny’s first deployment, and they brought home Frankie with them.  There weren't many places to escape to in this small town, everyone knew where you were all the time and it at times can be a lot.  This park was a place I could go that was just far enough from downtown that I was able to escape and take a minute to breathe.  

There wasn’t many cars when I pulled into the lot, many of the cars were parked near the trailhead, none of them were the car I was in search of.  I glance towards the back, near the picnic tables and the lake, spotting his truck and I move my car and park in front of his.

Killing the engine I take a deep breath.  Thoughts of why I didn't text him back run through my head, but what was going to say? Sorry for what and then never get a response. He had nothing to be sorry for. I open my door and walk towards the drivers side window of his old beat up Chevy.  Peeking in, I don’t see him. Empty beer bottles, and a few pill bottles tossed on the floorboard and my heart starts to race.  I step to the bed of the truck, nothing.  I move back to the front of his truck, place the back of my hand to the hood, it’s cool to the touch and I realize he’s been here for a while. 

“Shit, Fish…where the fuck are you?” I say into the emptiness around me, I am trying to not panic after what I saw in the truck.  But it’s useless as not only panic, but fear sinks in

I turn and start to walk towards the tables and the waters edge.  The closer I get I notice a body, about his size, he’s slumped over one of the tables and my feet run towards it.  Seeing a black hat, I started to yell his name.  The limp body becomes more into focus the closer I get, that stupid Standard Oil hat he always wears coming into view, the tan jacket he would let me wear some nights.  Yelling his name, trying to get his attention to no prevail I run faster.  His back was leaning against the table, his body slouched.  Head down and arms at his sides, palms face up.  Getting closer I see his eyes closed, and his face flushed, he looks ghostly.  I touch his forehead to find him clammy and barely breathing. I grab his wrist in search of a pulse.

“Fuck, Frankie…Frankie, wake up” I rub his chest, pushing harder the louder I yell his name trying to get him to wake up, nothing is working and I reach into my pocket, grabbing my phone.

“9 1 1 what is your emergency?” a calm voice answers

Francisco Morales, or Frankie to most.  Catfish or Fish to those who knew him best.  Or Fishie to me, is a highly trained and skilled pilot in the special forces branch of the Army.  He is an expert pilot with medals to prove it, that was up till a few months ago  He suffered an injury in a routine training exercise that went bad.  A shoulder injury that just wouldn’t heal.  A doctor had given him pain meds to help, and after a surgery he was given stronger meds.  Those pain meds slowly lead to other drugs, which lead him to cocaine. When he got caught his entire life started to fall apart.  Tom, his Captain, had tried to get him another chance, but by the third time he was out.  Tom did everything he could, and finally was able to convince to be medically discharged, because of his injury, so he could still receive his benefits.  Saying the addiction was their fault, which he did have a point.  Benny offered him his spare room to help him get his life back together.  But over the course of the year, taking care of Frankie became more than he signed up for.  He was more of a parent then a friend and Benny didn’t know what else to do.

“No...no…I don’t know what he took.  He’s barely breathing and his pulse is very weak” I say between sobs, trying to keep it together just enough for help to arrive. I was in way over my head “just please, please send help!”

“I have police and fire on their way ma’am.  They are moving as fast as they can.  How long has he been unresponsive?” the voice on the other end was annoyingly calm,  I knew she had to be, but it was pissing me off

“I DON’T KNOW!” I scream into the phone, “Just please hurry.  Fish…hey Fishie, I’m gonna need you to wake up now, please. WAKE UP” tears begin to fall, I rest my forehead against his.  A silent prayer being said, to whoever would listen, the police sirens growing louder and louder through the valley of the mountains.  I look up seeing the red and blue lights flash off the rocks moving towards us, “they are here, someone is here” my voice cracks

A young woman officer is soon by our side.  I reluctantly slid away from Frankie, letting the officer start to work.  Watching as the officer pulls something from her pocket, popping the top off on her leg, she shoves the nozzle into Frankies nose.  Everything was becoming a blur, it felt like time was standing still, I felt frozen in time while the world around me was pushed to fast forward.  Fire and paramedics had shown up at some point, and they moved him to a stretcher.  Frankie’s eyes were open and he was fighting to get out of the bed.  The paramedics having to restrain him against the bed, getting him to stop thrashing around.  I feel his eyes lock onto mine and they push him away, and I know he can see the tears I feel falling.  Will wrapped his arms around me letting me fall into him, my face buried into his chest.

Benny was being interviewed by an officer, they were trying to piece together what he took and what led to this moment.  I hung onto Will, while the same questions were being asked to me.  A search of the truck while Frankie was in the back of the ambulance being taken care of.

Over the years Frankie had become like family.  Anytime the boys were home for an extended period of time, Frankie would tag along.  The Miller home became his home.  Frankie and I had become close, I was someone he could trust, a safe place for all his secrets.  Things about life, he could never talk to the guys about.  He hated talking, he hated how people would feel sorry for him, except for me.  My feelings towards Frankie never changed. If he wanted advice, I was there, if he just wanted to vent I was there. 

I had developed a crush on him, and if you met him you’d understand.  His soft brown eyes, his boyish smile, with a stupid little dimple.  He had a calm and steady demeanor about him. The way he would look at me when he talked, or when I would go on about some stupid celebrity gossip he didn’t care about.  He looked at me like I held the answers to all the questions, and it made me feel special.  But he was off limits, he’s my brother's best friend and teammate, he was family.  I know Benny and Will, despite being step-brothers, are the most protective people in the world and would kill any man that broke my heart.  I’ve kept this little crush a secret, or at least I thought I did, I always felt like Will knew. 

Frankie’s vitals were normal, the police didn’t find a reason to arrest him so he was released. He refused to go to the hospital. Frankie walks to his truck, the three of us standing watching and waiting for him. He digs his hands into his pockets looking for his keys which you have in your hand.  

“I’m not going to the hospital” he says matter of factly, “where the fuck are my keys” he growls looking directly at Benny who throws his hands up in defense 

“Don’t look at me”

“He doesn’t have them” I say, gripping the key so tight it’s starting to leave an inaction “Frankie”

“Don’t” he looks at me and I can see the betrayal in his eyes “spare me the I should be better and give me my fucking keys Lexi. I want to go home” 

“You were knocking on death's door when I found you Francisco” I never called him that, he’s always been Fishie or Fish. He knew he had let me down anytime that name was used. “You were barely breathing, I couldn’t find a pulse. What did you want me to do? You don’t want to go to the hospital, that’s fine. That’s your choice, but there is no way in hell I am letting you get behind the wheel and possibly kill someone, or yourself because you weren’t paying attention” I grip the keys tighter. I am surprised at how strong my voice is despite my heart breaking inside. 

His jaw ticks, his tell that he’s angry. His hand flex’s in a fish, he’s frustrated, tired, angry and ashamed. “Fuck. And how exactly do I get home? Walk?” He knows he isn’t getting the key, unlike the guys I don’t back down from him

“I’m taking your truck” Will finally speaks up, he had known Frankie the longest. They went through basic together. Other than me, Will is the only one he seems to listen to. Years spent alongside each other, and Santiago Garcia, they have been through some shit. The kind of shit that bonds you in ways normal people wouldn’t understand. “You can ride with me, or Alex” 

“What about Ben?” He asks 

“I have shit to fix,” Benny sighs

The three of us knew the answer. There was no way he would be getting in the car with me. The look of disappointment was enough for him to stay away, he didn’t want to hear my lecture to him. Riding with Will would give him what he needed, look out the window, air in his face and being able to blare the music so loud it would drown out his thoughts. Riding with me, it would be anything but that. 

“Fuck, fine…let’s go Will” he walks past us, bumping my shoulder as he does, he avoids eye contact with me and it breaks my heart even more. “Will, no talking” he yells as he waits for Will at the door 

Will wraps his arms around me, I give him pleading eyes and he seems to know what I’m asking without me saying a word “I’ll try” he whispers before walking to the truck and starting it. 

The cool breeze on his face was just what he needed. The final notes to ‘smoke on the water’ begin to fade on the truck's speakers. Will’s hand reaches to turn the volume down. Frankie opens his eyes and turns his head to face Will whose eyes remain focused on the road ahead. Will was determined to get him to talk, he was just waiting for the right moment. 

“Jesus Christ, just say it already. I know you want to” Frankie sighs, his own voice yelling inside his head

“Say what?” Will replies, his voice calm 

“Please…” Frankie scoffs, “that I’m a loser, a huge fucking disappointment. How I am letting people down. That I should be better. You know all the things Lex would be telling me right now” Frankie closes his eyes. ‘Maybe I should have just gone to the hospital’ he thinks to himself 

Will’s focus remained on the road, he sighs and takes a deep breath. This isn’t the first time they’ve had this conversation. Will had this talk with him the first time he was caught with pain meds that weren’t his. 

“She’s right, you should be” 

“I have nothing left Will. All I have ever known, all I have ever been good at is being a pilot. I know how to fly and I know how to kill. I’m useless here, maybe I shouldn’t even”

“Fuck that Fish, you better not finish that thought” Will pulls to the side of the road slamming on the breaks and turns to face him, “you are not useless, you have so much to live for”

Frankie rolls his eyes, “like what? My girl left me before I even landed. She heard the words ‘drug problem’ and she ran. I’m basically homeless, I live with Benny.  I’m jobless, I’m useless.  Face it Will, I am useless and nobody needs me”

“Monica was a bitch” Will says, Frankie shakes his head in disagreement 

“She was smart. She got out when she could, she didn’t let me drag her down” Frankie looks down, his voice grows quiet “something my Mom should have done with my Dad” 

There is a long pause, the silence is deafening. His heart pounding in his chest. Will stays silent 

“He died on my birthday ya know. I was 12, maybe 13. When she came to tell me, it wasn’t like she was sad or anything. It was relief?” He says it as a question because even after all these years, he still doesn’t understand the feeling his mother had. “She said something about us not having to worry anymore. Shit…” he rubs his face “I’m just like him” 

Will stays silent, he didn’t know this story. Frankie had always stayed quiet about his life as a kid. Saying joining the Army was his way out of a shit situation. Will knew he had to help his friend, his brother. But he’s tried, this time Frankie was going to have to be the one that asked for it. Will looks at Frankie, Frankie’s hands shaking “Fish…”

“I need help”

I haven’t heard from him for a few days, it wasn’t out of the normal. But I expected to hear something from him, maybe a ‘thank you for saving my life’ would have been nice. He was mad, I was mad, and it turned the rocky road even rockier. Will mentioned they talked but not much more than that. It was a Friday night, and I just poured myself a glass of rose, getting ready to Netflix and chill alone. There’s a gentle knock on the door and I sigh, I’m in sweats and an oversized shirt, I don’t want to answer the door. 

When I do, I see Frankie standing there, hands in his pocket, like a nervous high school kid knocking on the door of his crush. He’s rocking back and forth not looking at her just yet. 

“Hey” he says shyly, his eyes traveling up from my bare feet to my eyes 

“Hi” I cross my arms 

We stand there in awkward silence, I notice Benny sitting in the car, and I look back to Frankie chewing on the inside of his cheek, “Fish, what are you doing here?” I finally ask

“I’m gonna get the help I need” he finally looks at me again. He stares into my eyes, “I’m sorry you found me like that. I didn’t mean to hurt you” 

“Frankie…” I swallow hard, uncrossing my arms and taking a step towards him. Wrapping my arms around his waist 

“I’ll see you soon” he says hugging me tentatively and I can feel his heart racing 

“I’m happy for you” I pull away, his hands hold my waist, his eyes watery as he looks at me “you’ll be ok, I’ll see you soon” I try to smile

I’m happy for him, he’s going to get the help he needs, I just hope this time it works. He nods, quickly adjusting his cap. Then he leans in and kisses my cheek, he turns and runs back to Benny, his face must have been a mirror image of mine. Shock is probably an understatement. 

“Shut up Ben” I hear him say closing the car door

White walls.

White floors. 

White bed sheets. 

Everything in this place is white, and Frankie hates it all. It’s sterile, the only pop of color is the small garden outside his window, and that nurse Nicole who has been getting to know him.  In more ways than one. Frankie hated it, he wanted out, he wanted a hit of something…other than Nicole…she was great, sure. But he needed something stronger, something to take the edge off. 

He wondered if this was what hell was like. Listening to people's sob stories of what ended them up here in this white prison. An older gentleman with dark gray hair, and sober blue eyes was going on and on about what brought him here. Frankie wasn’t listening just like he wasn’t listening the first dozen times he heard this story. He was focused on the rain drops hitting the window outside. 

“…I should have done this a long time ago.  I pushed away everyone who cared about me, and wanted to help me.  I didn’t think I needed help, we are all soldiers, we don’t ask for help.  I just hope that when this is done and I get out of here they can find it in their hearts to forgive me” the man says, finishing his speech and the small group claps for him

It had been a little over three weeks here, meaning Frankie only had a week left.  He had spent every class sitting in the back on the hard uncomfortable chairs listening to people share their stores of what brought them here.  He wished he was anywhere else, he would have even being back on the battlefield was better compared to this.  This was a nightmare. He was counting down the minutes, the seconds until the little bell would chime letting him know it was time for lunch.  He was trying to remain low, stay out of the way and do as little as possible just to get this done and over with.

“Mr. Morales…” the instructor speaks. Karen was her name? Maybe, he didn’t know. He didn’t care.  She was nice, going along with Frankie hiding in the background, but if he was going to graduate and be able to leave this place, she was going to need him to open up.

His eyes widen, heart races “hmm…what?” everyone still seated in their seats “Would you care to share with us today?” she smiles at him

“Well, uhh….” all eyes are suddenly on him, “I would but, you know it’s time for lunch”.  The little bell chimes again, and Frankie claps his hands together. “Saved by the bell” and there are a few awkward chuckles around him.  People slowly standing and moving their chairs to the side.  Frankie stands and folds up his chair, his name being called just as he reaches the door.

Karen standing in front of him, “can we chat for a minute?” she asks with a look that no wasn’t going to be taken as an answer

“I would, but see it’s taco night, and if you don’t get there early you get stuck with all the broken shells” 

A little ironic, broken shells for the broken man.

“Frankie…” she sighs

“I…uh…I, you’re not gonna take no will you?” he asks and she nods in agreement, “Shit, fine.  He walks towards her desk, grabbing a chair along the way.  It was times like this he wishes they would have let him keep his hat.  His safety net, he wanted to put it on and pull it down where you couldn’t see his eyes. 

“Why are you here?” she asks

“I had heard this place and some great food,” he laughs, and she doesn’t even crack a smile, “tough crowd.  Ok, My friends said I needed to get help”

“What do you think? Do you think you need help?”

“I don’t know” he leans back and crosses his arms

“Then why are you here?” she asks again, “if you don’t know why you are here, if you are here just for your friends, and you don’t want to be here…why stay? No one is forcing you to be here” 

That’s a lie, there's guards at the front door.

“It’s not like I can just walk out the front door.  I already tried that.  I don’t know, I might need help, but this addiction isn’t my fault.  It’s also not my fault that the one person…the only…that someone who cares about me, that I care about found me” he wipes his eyes, not wanting to let the tears actually fall “I didn’t ask her to come find me”

Lie.  He sent that text to her, knowing she could come find him.  She always did.

“And why didn’t you share that, that’s why we are here.  We are here to help you.” 

“Everyone has been saying that, maybe I don’t want help.  Look, I don’t mean to be an asshole.  But what does sharing stories do? Like George, and the, I pushed people away bullshit. His story is nothing like mine.  I don’t care about these people, and they sure in hell don’t give a fuck about me” 

“Because, everyone here is a lot more like you than you think.  For example, Steve you should talk to him” 

“Steve?” Frankie asked

“Yes, the gentleman at the end…the one you just called George. His name is Steve” 

The next few days were spent getting to know Steve.  Frankie hated sharing anything personal but the two of them did have something in common. Steve happened to be a fighter pilot for the Air Force, getting hooked on painkillers after he had retired. Karen was right, this guy was actually pretty ok. They exchanged information, Steve letting him know that he had a friend who could help with the addiction.  

It was finally day 30, the day he was counting down too since he got to this place. He had just finished packing up his shit when there was a gentle hand on his back. Nicole, she wanted to make sure she was able to give him the proper send off. 

He pushes her so she’s bent over his bed. Lifting her white dress, and sliding her panties to the side. Unzipping his own jeans, he pushes into her in one swift motion. A hand covering her mouth as she moans out his name. He wasn’t going to miss this place, he wasn’t even sure if he was going to miss this. Yeah, she was good and always ready for him. But she wasn’t the girl he wished she was. 

His back towards the door, and he continues to rock into Nicole when there’s a knock on his door. He turns to see it slowly being pushed open and his friend, Santiago Garcia standing there. Santiago leaning against the frame, arms crossed and a smirk on his face. 

“Some things never change, do they Cat?” Santiago sighs 

Frankie hadn’t seen Santi, or Pope since he was kicked out of the Army.  Pope wanting to spend time with his girl and the possibility of starting a family. Frankie pulls out of Nicole practically shoving her face first onto the mattress. He quickly tucks himself back into his jeans, smiling at Pope. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Frankie asks. He’s happy and slightly confused

“I’m here to bust your ass outta here” he chuckles, “but that doesn’t seem to be the only thing ready to bust” 

“Shut up Cabrón” Frankie watches as Nicole adjusts herself and moves out of the room. He knows he should have felt guilty but honestly he really didn’t care. “Where’s Ben?”

“Had some shit to take care of. Will and I came to get you, he’s up front taking care of some paperwork. I don’t know he told me to come get you” he shrugs 

“You know you always sucked at lying right” Frankie bends over to pick up the duffle bag and walks out of the bedroom heading to the front door where Will was waiting 

“Hey…hey wait, what about that little chick?” Pope calls after him 

“You want me to what?” I ask in disbelief, watching as Benny makes himself at home on my sofa

Frankie was coming home today, and I had planned a small party for him. Just a little something, some pizza and being around his friends. This was all planned before Benny told me he would be leaving a few days after Frankie got out. 

“He needs to stay with someone for a while, they don’t want him to be alone in case of a relapse” Benny says leaning his head back, “please…I can’t not go, I don’t have a job that allows me to say ‘no’ to them” 

“I…I, why me?” I stutter out the words

“He trusts you” Benny manages to say just as the door opens and Will walks in 

“Hey” he says awkwardly, somehow knowing that Benny just asked you 

It was the most awkward pizza dinner of my life. No one really saying anything. Frankie staring at his slice of pizza picking off the toppings. I had picked up a mushroom and pepperoni one just for him. I knew it was his favorite and watching him sit uncomfortable breaks my heart

“So who was that cute little blonde you had in bed, Fish?” Pope asked, leave it to him to make it even more uncomfortable 

Frankie gave him a look, the term ‘if looks could kill’ was 100% true and Santiago is lucky he wasn’t six-feet under right now. 

“She was a nurse, at least that’s what they call them there. More like a maid if anything” Frankie groans pushing his plate away “I gotta pee” 

I watch as he gets up and walk down the hall towards the bathroom. Santiago going on about how he walked in on him and the so-called nurse. “She was fucking hot too” I roll my eyes, and look back to Benny. 

“I really don’t need to hear this” 

Trying to tune out what they are saying, I too start to pick at the crust of my half eaten pizza. I really don’t need to know about his sexcapades anymore then I need to hear about Bennys. The only difference, I am jealous of this girl I don’t even know. The conversation slowly turns to what they are going to do with Frankie. How do deal with him, the addiction that they are sure wasn’t solved in the 30 days that he was there. 

“Has anyone even asked him what he wanted?” I finally ask, listening to them talking like he isn’t even there. 

“It doesn’t matter, the doctors said he needs to be with someone, at least for a while” Benny sighs 

Frankie comes back, setting a coin on the table.  “If you want to talk about me like I’m not even here. You might want to make sure I can’t hear you. Or better yet, I can make it easier on you all and not fucking be here” 

“Frankie…wait” I grab the coin from the table and stand up, “what the fuck is wrong with you guys?” I turn and chase after him 

He doesn’t have a car, his home for the last few years is too far to walk. He has no money and can’t afford a cab. He opens the front door and stops leaning against the small fence on the front porch. His hands grip the top post, his head down, he wants to disappear but has no place to go. 

“Hey…” I say softly, closing the door behind me and moving closer to him “you forgot this”

I hold the silver coin towards him. A large ‘30 days’ written on it. He looks at me, his eyes flicking from the coin to my eyes and I feel frozen. He lifts his hand grabbing the coin from me and throwing it into the yard, “this doesn’t fucking mean anything” his voice cracks “why did you have to find me? Y’all would have been better off” he looks away. Staring out in front of him 

“Ok…” I sigh, confused and hurt by what he said. I didn’t mean to say that. It just kinda can out. I didn’t know what else to say. His eyes turn to me, angry and watery. I swallow hard, and try to think of the next word. “Do you want to stay here?” 

What the fuck kinda question is that? He literally just told me I shouldn’t have found him. He just spent 30 days in a rehab facility. He seemed so happy when he told me he was going to get help and now. This isn’t the Frankie that left saying he wanted help. 

“Not really…nothing against you. But I don’t understand why I can’t just stay at home. Well, Benny’s home” he turns his body and leans against the fence. Crossing his arms. “I am tired of people telling me what to do. I had a whole month of it, tell us your feelings Frankie, here’s what we’re eating Frankie…” 

“Because Morales, the docs at the rehab facility want you to stay with someone incase of a relapse. You can stay here or head back to rehab. I’m sure Nicole would be happy to welcome you back” Benny had joined us, sitting on the swinging bench

“If you want to stay here…I’d like you to stay. But I understand if you don’t” I tell him, giving Benny an evil glare. “I promise to give you your space. And you can have Nicole stop by if you want” 

“Oh my god, enough with Nicole. She was a good time that’s fucking it. It’s not like I’m gonna marry her.  I’m not doing this because you're telling me too” Frankie groans in defeat

ANN: A huge shout out to @musings-of-a-rose for helping me with this and giving me confidence to post this in first person. I am still terrified of it. @theewokingdead and @heythere-mel for listening to my random ass ideas at all hours. I love each and every one of you.

Looking for more of my fics check out my masterlist. And check out other writers at @littlemisspascal and their library for all Pedro Characters

Just A Dream Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

ICanBeYourJedi Complete Masterlist

#christina writes #Just A Dream #Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal Characters #Frankie Morales #Pedro Pascal Character FanFic #Triple Fronter AU #francisco morales #frankie x f!reader

[perfectfeelings]

Money can’t buy you happiness, but happiness sure is a hell of a lot easier to find when you’re not worried about where your next meal is coming from.

Christina Lauren, Dirty Rowdy Thing

#Christina Lauren #motivation #quotes #poetry #literature #relationship quotes #writing #original #words #love #relationship #thoughts #lit #prose #spilled ink #inspiring quotes #life quotes #quoteoftheday #love quotes #poem #aesthetic

[quotefeeling]

You put your arms around me and I'm home.

Christina Perri - Arms

#Christina Perri - Arms #motivation #quotes #poetry #literature #relationship quotes #writing #original #words #love #relationship #thoughts #lit #prose #spilled ink #inspiring quotes #life quotes #quoteoftheday #love quotes #poem #aesthetic

[thoughtkick]

Do you ever feel like the people who mean the most aren’t the people you see the most? Lately I just feel like I’m not putting my heart where it matters.

Christina Lauren, Beautiful Player

#Christina Lauren #motivation #quotes #poetry #literature #relationship quotes #writing #original #words #love #relationship #thoughts #lit #prose #spilled ink #inspiring quotes #life quotes #quoteoftheday #love quotes #poem #aesthetic

[asoftepiloguemylove]

Katie Maria / Katherine Fabrizio A Poem From the Adult Daughter to the Narcissistic Mother: Not Your Fault, Not Mine, Just Is / pinterest / Annie Ernaux / Christina Bothwell Incessant Dreamer (2022) / pinterest / pinterest / pinterest

#more venting lol #on childhood #on growing up #on mothers #on fathers #katie maria #katherine fabrizio #a poem from the adult daughter to the narcissistic mother #not your fault not mine just is #annie ernaux #christina bothwell #incessant dreamer #poem #spilled poetry #spilled thoughts #spilled ink #dark academia #words #dark academia poetry #writing #dark academia quote #poetry #on loneliness #on sadness #on emotion