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knivesareout · 3 years

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take on the world - chapter two

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: SMUT (18+), oral (m receiving), protected p in v, alcohol consumption, bad banter, possible typos

Summary: A whirlwind romance takes you by surprise when Frankie rescues you.

A/N: Aaaand here’s chapter two! I finally decided to work on an outline for this and it made things much smoother so go me! The angst will, unfortunately, come in at some point so enjoy these two while they’re being hopelessly cute. I hope you all enjoy and you can read it on AO3 here.

CHAPTER ONE | MASTERLIST

---

Wednesday rolls around quicker than you thought it would and your work day goes by even faster.

Your walk home is quiet and you enjoy the peaceful atmosphere; it wasn’t often that the sidewalks weren’t crowded with groups of people trying to get somewhere in a hurry. You were in a blissful state at the idea of seeing Frankie again and nothing was going to change that.

There wasn’t much you could compare this feeling to- this feeling you had about Frankie. All of your past relationships were one and done, if you could even call them relationships. A few dates, a hook-up, and usually that was it. Nothing clicked and it was always mutual. Only one guy had gotten further than that but only barely. He’d managed about 4 dates in total until you realized you were the one carrying the conversations, that you had nothing in common, and the only thing you could remember about him was that he hated fish. Relationships seemed more trouble than they were worth.

None of those feelings were present when you thought about Frankie. So, what was it about him that made you feel so different? So willing to let your guard down?

Was it the fact that he sounded genuinely interested in your thoughts, feelings, and passions? The fact that he was willing to be open about himself and tell you things other than the shallow, on the surface stuff? That you could talk all night and not run out of things to say? There had yet to be any sort of awkward silence between you two- both of you eager to fill the space with something funny or just a random thought, slowly learning one another.

Two dates, dozens of texts and a couple phone calls and you were already falling deep. The phone call only the night before had lasted until 2am, Frankie regaling stories from his army buddies that had you in stitches. It felt too soon to even think about but the thought was there, in the back of your mind. Was this love? Everything about this entire situation was foreign to you but welcome in a way that it usually wasn’t.

If this was even close to what falling in love was like, why hadn’t you tried sooner? Maybe it was because you hadn’t even been trying this time- Frankie had just fallen into your lap, rescued you really, and it felt like some kind of universal sign to try. Except it didn’t even feel like trying with him because it all came so natural to you.

It seemed to make the most sense for Frankie to come to your place for dinner that night since he already knew where you lived. Your apartment was thankfully previously cleaned up and you were glad for the chores you’d already taken care of earlier in the week so that was at least one less stressor.

Frankie had called on your lunch break to tell you he was grocery shopping for dinner, asking your opinions on what sounded good and if you had any allergies.

A soft sigh passes through your lips as you push into your apartment, kicking the door closed, tossing your bag on the island in the middle of the kitchen, and all but collapsing on your couch. Nerves were starting to eat at you and you scream loudly into the cushion, your legs thrashing behind you.

It takes a few moments for you to try and collect yourself, your heart still beating quickly from your anxiousness and it slowly starts ebbs away as you breathe deep and the tension releases, your cheek smushed on the couch cushion and you sigh.

“Fuck.”

Changing into something more comfortable than the work clothes you’d been in, you pull on a pair of leggings and a sweater. As much of a date this was, you were also in the comfort of your own apartment and weren’t about to dress up just to sit on the couch and eat dinner while you watched a movie with Frankie.

You busy yourself with watching YouTube videos on your TV for the next couple of hours, curled under a soft blanket while you wait for a text from Frankie. The distraction was needed because you knew the more time alone with your thoughts, the more time you’d overthink everything and make it worse.

Now time seems to creep slowly, your eyes drifting towards the time on your phone. The nerves are slowly creeping back in and it’s jarring for your phone to start vibrating when it does, your heart beating quickly.

“Hey,” you answer, “Are you here?”

Frankie grunts through the speaker and you laugh quietly, “Yeah. Do you need to buzz me up? Someone in your lobby is eyeing me weirdly since I can’t figure out how to get in and my hands are full of groceries.”

You jump up quickly and head to the buzzer on your door, balancing the phone on your shoulder. “Yeah, just push the button for 1202 and I’ll let you in. 12th floor.”

“See you in a sec,” he tells you and hangs up. The buzzer comes through seconds later and you hit the button in front of you, going to unlock your front door while you wait.

The silence of your apartment suddenly feels stifling and you pull up Spotify on your tv, playing Fleetwood Mac to fill the room. It feels better at least and you slowly start to sway with the music. You wonder what it’s like to dance with him, if he was silly about it or had rhythm in his hips. The smile on your face is probably comical at the thought but a knock breaks you out of your day dream and you rush towards the door, pulling it open quickly to see him smiling.

Your heart squeezes at the sight and you move to the side to let him in, shutting it behind closed and flipping the lock.

“Got enough there?”

Frankie’s arms are laden with bags and you can’t figure out what he’s going to be making when he goes to set them on the counter and turns to you. “I sure as hell hope so,” he chuckles, motioning for you.

It’s easy to fall into his arms. They squeeze tight around you in greeting and you turn your head to place a kiss to his jaw, the one spot you’re now determined to kiss every time you see him. He feels warm and smells great and you dig your nose into his chest, the softness of his t-shirt, and his chest rumbles as he laughs at you.

“You good there?” His voice is teasing and you mumble an affirmative, not quite ready to let go.

You finally pull back from his embrace to lean against the counter opposite him, kicking his shoe with your bare foot. “Get comfortable while I go through these.”

Frankie rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything while you start to pull out what looks like pizza ingredients. Sauce, pre-made dough, and every topping you could ever imagine.

“I’m guessing you can’t really cook,” you turn over your shoulder to look at him now in just his socks with his jacket thrown over a barstool at your kitchen island and he shrugs helplessly.

“What makes you say that?” He tries to look indignant but he breaks the facade seconds later. “Not really. I had to call a friend and ask for help and he suggested just ordering pizza so at least this is an upgrade right?”

The thought really is sweet and you nod quickly, hoping to appease the bit of nerves you can see creeping in over his expression.

Frankie tugs his hat off and runs a hand through his hair before readjusting it back on top of his head. It’s a nervous tick he does and one you’d picked up on at the bar when you’d met him.

“I’ve honestly never done this? Like, made pizza before. Have you?”

Frankie shakes his head in reply, “Can’t be that hard, can it? Seems pretty easy.”

He shuffles over towards you and pulls the rest of the ingredients out- different types of cheeses, some oil, and a couple spices you don’t recognize. Two bottles of wine are in the last bag and you raise your eyebrows until you spot the 6 pack of beer that he’d left by the door.

He looks over everything spread out on the island and turns to you sheepishly. “Well, maybe we should look it up.”

---

The pizza doesn’t turn out to be all that hard to make and Frankie teases you about your lack of toppings- basic cheese with a few scattered veggies. His is loaded and probably weighs twice as much as yours does but he insists it’s better like that, pinching your ass as you walk away to let them cook.

Your music still plays softly in the background and Frankie collapses on your couch, tugging his hat off and tossing it on the coffee table. You like how comfortable he seems in your place, and you sway softly to the music, just looking at him.

Frankie catches you staring, a curious look in his eye and he laughs. “What are you looking at?”

“Come dance with me.” You’re still slowly moving to the music, the song switching to Tiny Dancer, and you hold your hand out for him with a pleading look. “Please.”

You watch him hesitate, debating with himself until he pushes up from the couch and takes your hand in his. “I don’t really dance,” he tells you, a hand going to your hip while his other clutches yours.

Cautiously, you both move around the small space in your apartment. It’s careful and quiet, Frankie giving your hip a squeeze. It brings your attention to him and he nudges his nose with yours. “You know what I was just thinking?”

“Hm?”

“That I haven’t kissed you yet. You kiss me where I can’t grow facial hair but you won’t kiss my lips.”

He’s teasing you again and you step on his toe, feigning innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Your thumb brushes against the spot in question, the skin there smooth.

“Shit head,” he mumbles with a deep chuckle. Moving the hand that’s clutched in yours down to your back, he whirls you around, dipping you low. “You sure about that?”

“No.”

Your balance is off and you know you’re going to fall in the next 20 seconds but you surge up anyway, arms wrapping around his neck to find some balance and press your lips to Frankie’s in a slow kiss.

It’s just what you thought it would be- soft and sweet. His lips a little bit chapped but warm, your hands finding his hair and pulling him in deeper.

The timer for the pizza sounds loudly on your phone, interrupting you, and it catches you both by surprise, Frankie’s arms going slack around you and with your arms around him you bring him down to the floor with you as you both fall in a tangle of limbs, laughing loudly.

“Was that worth it?” You try to catch your breath, poking him in the stomach and he laughs even harder, batting your hands away.

“Not if the pizza burns,” he groans, rolling away from you and getting up to check on the oven.

It takes a second to try and catch your breath so you stay, sprawled out on the floor, turning to watch Frankie pull the pizzas out and turn off the oven. “They alright? Or do we need to order pizza?”

“Crust looks a little crispy but I think they’re still edible,” he glances around, looking for you and snickers when he sees you still on the floor. “Where’s your pizza cutter?”

“Drawer next to the fridge.”

Shuffling around on the floor, you finally stand up and bump Frankie out of your way to grab the bottle opener, pulling the wine bottle closest to you across the counter and popping it open.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that 6 pack you brought in here. Go on, I don’t expect you to drink wine too,” you nudge him.

Frankie shoots you a grateful look while you bring the cut pizzas to the coffee table and sit on the floor, legs crossed and leaning back against the couch.

“You don’t wanna sit on the couch?” He’s looking at you strangely, but you shrug.

“I like the floor but you can sit up there if you want.”

He takes a seat next to you and you both dig in.

Watching him try to eat his massive pizza is hilarious- making you laugh so hard you almost snort, the drink of wine a bad choice as it threatens to come back up through your nose.

“I didn’t know your mouth could go so wide,” you manage to choke out, coughing to try and clear your throat from your laugh.

Frankie almost chokes himself at your bad joke, dropping the slice on the plate and chugging down his beer to try and breathe.

“We’re a fucking mess.” ---

You’re rinsing the dishes while Frankie loads the dishwasher, a solid system set up, because despite your protests that you’d just do it yourself, Frankie insisted that he help.

“I think I might have ice cream if you wanna share some,” you offer the dish towel to him after drying your hands. He waves you off, running his palms over the thighs of his jeans with a cheeky smile and you roll your eyes.

“Depends on the flavor,” he tells you as if your response is make it or break it.

Cookie dough is apparently an acceptable flavor so you share a bowl on the couch while you try to explain to Frankie that the new Jurassic World movies are trash.

“It’s just a cash grab!” You explain, pointing your spoon at him. “And sure, the second and third Jurassic Park movies aren’t great, but they’re at least better than these new ones. I can’t believe they’re making sequels.”

“The effects are good though, you can’t deny that,” he insists, grabbing a spoonful of the ice cream and shoveling into his mouth.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s not the point. The story isn’t good and that is the point and makes it not worth watching. Even if I do like Bryce Dallas Howard.” You pause, thinking for a second. “But I do now suddenly remember that Jeff Goldblum is gonna be in the next one so maybe.”

You eat the last bit of the cookie dough left in the bowl and set it on the coffee table, licking your spoon clean and dropping it inside.

Frankie’s eyes are trained on you and you touch your cheek, wondering if you’ve got left over pizza sauce on you. “Have I got something on my face?”

Nodding, Frankie drops his spoon in next to yours and leans forward. “Just a little ice cream here.” He’s close, just a breath away, and his mouth presses in towards the corner of your lips, his tongue darting out to lick there and you gasp, turning your face into his to press your lips together.

The kiss starts a chain of events that make your head spin. Frankie wastes no time pulling you into his lap, his hands settling around your hips. Your arms loop around his neck, hands finding his hair and tugging as his teeth nip at your bottom lip. The kiss is all tongue and teeth this time, licking into each other’s mouths. The faint taste of vanilla from the ice cream is there and it makes you smile against this lips, breaking the kiss to try and catch your breath.

You’re suddenly thankful you’d only pulled on leggings for the night, the heat between your legs easily finding his growing erection behind his jeans and you press down, seeking friction.

His lips move down your neck and Frankie pulls at the shoulder of your sweater to kiss across the skin there, teeth sinking in and sucking harshly. You know there will be a dark mark there come morning and a moan bubbles up in your throat at the harsh contact and you swallow it down, self conscious. You’d once been teased about the noises you made and you didn’t want anything to stop the delicious feeling you were experiencing with Frankie if he didn’t like them either.

You pull his mouth away from your shoulder, tipping his chin up to look at you. His dark eyes are blown wide, his mouth wet, and hair a mess. It’d been only a few minutes and already Frankie looks entirely debauched- and in your opinion, never looked sexier. “You’re so fucking hot,” you tell him, running a hand down his jaw, across his chest, down to the button of his jeans.

“Bedroom,” he chokes out as you palm him through the denim while you fiddle with the button there. “We should- bedroom. Take this to the bedroom.”

He’s right, despite how much you don’t want to move. The couch was comfortable but not the ideal place for sex so you slipped off, offering him your hand and pulling him towards your room.

Your bedroom is small and the bed takes up most of the space. A queen bed you’d treated yourself to when you had moved downtown placed in the middle with two thrifted nightstands on either side and a dresser tucked in the corner by your bathroom.

It wasn’t much but it was comfortable and you couldn’t wait to get Frankie under the sheets.

Swinging your legs up onto the bed, you settle yourself in the middle, back pressed against the pillows and crook a finger towards him. Frankie tugs his shirt off and joins you, crawling up the mattress and lying next to you.

“You are so beautiful,” he tells you quietly, running a hand across your cheek and you close your eyes at the feeling of careful intimacy. Turning your head, you press your lips to his palm and lean in to nudge your nose against his.

The kiss turns quickly heated again, your hands running across his shoulders and back, digging into the soft skin. You can feel scars and bumps beneath your palms as they explore him and you’re eager to learn his body.

Frankie’s hand slips up the front of your sweater, hands seeking more and you bite back a moan as his palm glides across your breast and squeezes, testing the weight and slowly starts to massage the flesh.

“Come on. I wanna hear you, baby. Don’t be shy.”

You close your eyes and will yourself to just let go. Nothing about Frankie has indicated that he’d tease you for something that comes so natural and you nod, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his lips.

His hand slides behind your back to unclasp your bra and the material slackens against you. Next he pulls off your sweater, your head popping out of the collar and you throw it to the side. Your bra is tossed in the same general direction and Frankie descends on your chest, mouth seeking more skin to mark.

Frankie brushes his mouth around your left nipple while his fingers pinch at the right. The dual sensation makes you keen, your hips thrusting up in search of friction. There was a fire burning between your thighs and you ached to have him fill you.

Your fingers find the edge of his jeans and tug. Pulling away from the kiss you whine, “Off. I want them off. Too many clothes.”

“I’d say we’re pretty even,” he jokes against your nipple, tugging at the band of your leggings.

“So do something about it.”

Frankie grips the material, fingers finding the band of your underwear too, and he yanks them down your legs, your feet kicking them off the rest of the way.

The cool air of your room raises goosebumps along your skin, Frankie’s hand sliding up your calf, to your thigh, and he parts your legs to allow him better access to your aching core. You know you’re soaked, wetness coating your inner thighs and down to your ass.

“Is this all for me?” He asks you, running a finger across the curls at your core and down between your lips to coat his finger in your juices.

“Yes. Fuck, Frankie please,” you promise him, watching his hand play with you.

He’s focused on everything else.

Frankie drinks in your naked form while his finger teases you up and down, his eyes scanning your body. When normally you would shy from such an intense gaze, your nerves are nonexistent. Not here, with him- not with how comfortable you’d grown with him despite your earlier misgivings.

Your eyes zero in on the denim still covering his legs and you nudge his thigh with your toes. “Take ‘em off Frankie.”

It’s like you’ve pulled him out of a daydream and he nods, sliding his finger into his mouth to clean it off before undoing the buttons on his jeans and pulling them off to toss them on the floor.

He’s back on the bed in a flash, sliding between your parted thighs and he surges up to kiss you. Your hands find purchase on his back, pulling his chest against yours and you arch up into the contact, your nipples rubbing against the sparse hair on his chest.

Frankie’s cock lays hard on your thigh, thick and dripping on your skin. Your fingers ache to touch him, feel him in your hand so you reach down while still kissing him, thumb brushing along the wet tip before you grip him firmly.

He breaks the kiss to moan against your mouth, forehead against yours while he relishes in your touch. Frankie’s hips thrust into your hand and you squeeze his cock tighter in your grip, sliding your hand up and down him in a practiced rhythm. “Does that feel good?”

Barely managing to nod, Frankie brokenly moans against your cheek on the uptick of your thumb smoothing over the head and you bring your wet hand up to your mouth, licking it clean of the pre-cum smeared across your skin. “Wanna blow you, Frankie. Will you let me?”

He nods quickly, shifting until he’s flat on his back and watching you situate yourself over his cock that’s laying hard on his stomach. You drag a finger up the length of him, Frankie shuddering at your touch.

You move closer, your mouth leaning down to press kisses against his lower stomach and around his leaking cock. Your eyes trail up to find his eyes closed, head pressing deep into the pillows while he breathes slowly and you smirk. Finally your mouth makes contact with the head, your tongue darting out to lick at the mess he’s made, moaning at the taste. The feel of your hands make up for what your mouth can’t take- Frankie’s big, thick and stretching your mouth wide and you struggle at first to take him deeper. Eventually you find a steadying rhythm, mouth sucking him in and hands tightening around the base. His moans are encouraging and music to your ears, only spurring you on further.

It’s sloppy and you’re sure you look obscene with your lips stretched wide around the girth of Frankie’s cock, spit and pre-cum dripping down your chin and fist. Your hand moves from the length of him down to cup his balls, rolling them in your palm and giving them a gentle tug. That seems to get Frankie’s attention and his eyes shoot down to lock with yours, pupils blown wide and neck veins straining.

Pulling off slowly, you give the head a hard suck and start sponging kisses along the girth of this shaft. “Do you not wanna cum?”

Frankie’s hand reaches down and rubs his thumb across your bottom lip and you suck it in, unable to help yourself. He swears in Spanish quietly, looking up to the ceiling before glancing back down to you. “I’ve got condoms- in my wallet. Wherever my jeans are. I need to be inside you.”

His thumb drops from your mouth and you move off the bed in search of his jeans. They’re on top of your sweater and you dig his wallet out, finding two condoms tucked around a five dollar bill. You leave one, dropping Frankie’s wallet back on the ground and tearing into the packaging of the other once you’re sitting back between his legs.

You sheath him quickly in the condom, moving your knees to sit on either side of his hips. You don’t realize your thighs are shaking until Frankie sets his hands on them, squeezing gently. “You okay?”

“I’m great,” you promise him with a quiet laugh.

Reaching between you, you grasp his cock and slowly lower yourself down until your hips meet his, flushed together.

The feeling of being full- stretched to the brim and full of his cock is intoxicating and you bite your lip, trying to hold yourself together. Frankie isn’t much better beneath you, his hands still gripping your thighs tight, his knuckles gone white with the pressure. His neck is bared, head pressed into the pillow behind him and he swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing as he tries to gain his composure.

You start off slowly, a slow dip of your hips to try and get used to the feeling of him inside of you. It lights a spark up your spine, a low simmering that builds the more you move. Frankie watches you, completely entranced; the way your breasts move while you start to bounce on his lap, his hands sliding up past your stomach to grip them tightly in his hands. His fingers pinch and pull at your tight nipples, a moan slipping past your lips and you fall forward, bracing yourself against his chest.

It takes no time at all for Frankie’s lips to find yours now that your mouth is closer, tongue licking in. His hands slide to your waist and they hold you there, his hips thrusting forward as he starts to pound into you. It’s too much and not enough, your mouth falling from Frankie’s to lay open against his chest while you try to breathe, panting loudly.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he grunts, hands moving to your ass and pulling apart your cheeks to allow him to slip further inside of you. “Touch yourself for me, I know you’re close.”

You’d do anything Frankie told you to in that moment and you snake a hand between your bodies, rubbing quick circles over the slippery bud, fingers bumping against Frankie’s cock as he works into you. Your body is shaking above his, a high pitched “fuck,” slipping past your lips as you start to cum around him. The feeling is like nothing you remember. Stars burst behind your eyelids, your orgasm washing over you in waves. Your toes are numb at the sensation and your breathing is heavy, mouth still open and pressed to his chest.

Frankie groans lowly as you tighten around him and he continues to thrust into you at a lightning quick pace in search of his own release. He’s not too far behind you, swearing in Spanish, and he trembles below you as he cums. His thrusts don’t stop, just slow down while you both catch your breath. It’s comforting, intimate, that you’re both still connected and you kiss up his chest to his neck, lips latching on to your favorite spot along his jaw. Light kisses go up his cheek until they finally land on his lips and you kiss him languidly, resting your hands on either side of his face.

Eventually, Frankie pulls away. His hands run up your sides, across your back and he noses against your cheek. “We should probably get up.” His voice is quiet and you nod slowly. The last thing you want to do is move but your thighs are sticky with your release and it’s starting to grow uncomfortable.

Your legs shake as you move off of Frankie, losing your balance once your feet are back on the floor and you giggle once you catch your footing. “I’m good, I’m good,” you say mostly to yourself, moving around the room and padding quietly into the bathroom.

By the time you’ve cleaned yourself up and wet a rag to wipe down Frankie, he’s disposed of the condom and is pulling back the blankets to your bed. “Here, just toss it to me,” he tells you, hands out to catch the washcloth. It’s a perfect throw and he wipes himself down- tossing the cloth onto the floor and sliding into bed.

It’s perfect how he’s picked the right side to settle down in; you always slept on the left, no matter how hard you tried to sleep in the middle and you slip in next to Frankie, maneuvering yourself until you’re tucked in under his arm, cheek to his chest.

Frankie tucks a finger under your chin to bring your lips closer to his in a quick kiss and you can’t help smiling into it. An unexpected yawn passes through you and he laughs quietly, “We should sleep.”

“I know,” you pout, “I set my alarm early so I can make breakfast for us before I head into work.”

“Thought you might’ve forgotten,” he teases with a light pinch to your hip.

The feeling makes you squeal and you go to pull away but Frankie just tugs you in closer, arms wrapping around you tightly. “I owe you right? And I’m not one to back out of a promise.”

“I’ll remember that.”

“Good-,” another yawn passes your lips and you settle back into Frankie’s chest. “You should.”

“Night querida.”

“Night Frankie.”

----

Your alarm wakes you up only a few hours later, blaring loudly in the living room where you left your phone. It’s a struggle to get out of bed, untangling your limbs from Frankie and padding in there quickly to turn it off.

Despite the lack of hours you slept, you still felt refreshed. Not once had you tossed or turned during the night, waking up in the same position you’d fallen asleep in.

Shuffling back into your room, Frankie rolls over and blinks an eye open, a slow smile sliding across his features when he looks at you. “Morning,” he rasps, scratching at his jaw.

“Morning.” You lean over, pressing your cursory kiss to the spot on his jaw that was becoming easier and easier to land on when you leaned in. “I’m gonna hop in the shower real quick.” Frankie only nods when you pull away and you’re almost bummed when he doesn’t offer to join you.

The shower is quick, efficient and you’re eager to get started on breakfast, wanting to show off what little skills you had in the kitchen.

Frankie whistles when you emerge in only a towel and you wave him off, embarrassed. Despite having shown off your body last night, it was different in the light of the day and you close the door to the closet while you dress for work. Your pull on your favorite top paired with the pants that make your ass look good and slip back out to find Frankie dressed in his jeans and shirt from the night before sat at your kitchen island.

Frankie’s eyes never seem to leave you as he watches you cook; asking questions about what you’re doing and its purpose. You answer him carefully, smiling at the fact that he genuinely seems to want to learn about what you’re doing.

You serve up french toast only a few moments later, bacon and eggs on the side.

You’re both quick to dig in, the activities from the previous night having worked up an appetite and you’re done in record time, rubbing your belly. Frankie isn’t far behind you, downing the rest of his orange juice and wiping his mouth clean with the back of his hand.

“Well, that was well worth the win. Much better than the pizzas,” he tells you, patting your thigh and stacking your plates together to bring to the sink.

You watch him move around your kitchen, rinsing the plates. It’s domestic and sweet, seeing him clean up for the both of you. Your heartbeat picks up a little at the thought that this, at some point, could be a regular occurrence. You and Frankie waking up early for breakfast before work, cleaning up and seeing each other off. The image is something you know you’ll hold onto, one you hope will come true.

Your name is being called and you blink, realizing Frankie was saying something. “Sorry, what?”

“I asked what time you had to be at work, it’s 15 til.”

“Shit, I didn’t even realize the time. Yeah I need to be there at 9, I’m sorry,” you apologize.

You hop off the barstool and start gathering your things. Your laptop and files you’d pulled out yesterday that were never touched get tossed in your bag and you turn to Frankie. “How do you feel about giving me a ride?”

“You got it.”

The ride is silent with the exception of Frankie’s truck rumbling beneath you while he navigates through downtown.

“Got any plans Friday night?”

You turn your head towards him, tilting it slightly as you think. “I don’t think so, no. Why, what’s up?”

“Was thinking about taking you to a movie. There’s a theater around my place that does showings of old movies and I think they might be playing Jurassic Park this weekend.”

The fact that Frankie’s here, asking you out again, has your stomach in knots. Was this too much? Frankie clearly didn’t think so and you hesitate.

“If it’s too much, I get it. I’ve taken up a good chunk of your time and we can figure something else out another time,” he tries to clear up, turning to watch you once the traffic light turns red. He’s tapping quickly at the steering wheel with his thumbs and you know he’s just as anxious about this entire situation between you two as you are; putting yourself out there is terrifying.

“No, yeah I’d love to. I really would Frankie,” you promise him, taking one of his hands off the wheel to lace your fingers with his. “I just don’t want to mess this up by going too fast and like, I know it seems like it is but… it doesn’t feel like it? Not really?”

“You’re right. Normally I’m not like this, I swear. I have fucking boundaries,” he laughs, “but I like being around you. A lot.”

“So, Friday then? Jurassic Park, popcorn, and candy? Maybe a little hand holding?”

The light turns green and he squeezes your hand. “Yeah. Sounds perfect.”

Frankie sends you off to work with a quick kiss and a honk as he pulls away and the smile never leaves your face that day.

---

TAGLIST: @icanbeyourjedi @bookishofalder @marvelousmermaid @soyelfuegoquearde @bdavishiddlesbatch @wyn-dixie @peterhollandkait

#frankie morales #frankie 'catfish' morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie 'catfish' morales x reader #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #my writing #take on the world

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sondepoch · 4 years

Text

IX: Neutral Route (Y/N)

Where Futures Begin

Life used to be simple for you. Peaceful. But the Savior had other plans for you, and in moments, she ruined what you thought was your one shot at happiness. Blinded by anger, you escaped the Mint Eye, but that triggered a series of events that would bring you further into the world of brothers Saeran and Saeyoung. And further into the twisted world of your love for them.

Neutral Route: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | ✔

Saeyoung’s Route: 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | ✔

Saeran’s Route: 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | ✔

MASTERLIST

The only person who knew the whole truth was V.

Saeran, the dense boy too blind to see that he was the cause of your pain, doubtlessly had no idea why you'd chosen to leave the Mint Eye.

The Savior, for once in your whole life, had no way of knowing how you had escaped and why you'd helped Luciel and Vanderwood (though, you assumed she knew precisely why you'd escaped).

Even MC, who probably knew more of your situation than most, seemed confused as to why you were readily helping what V had called the 'RFA.'

Luciel had respected you too much during your questions game to ask anything that you might not have wanted to answer.

And Vanderwood had left as soon as you began telling V your story, utterly uninterested your past.

It was nice to tell everything to someone, to have a secondary input. V consoled you as you told him about your parents, the orphanage, being homeless. And he had sighed helplessly as you expressed the utter bliss you felt during the first years of yours and Saeran's friendship in the Mint Eye. He tried to pat your head awkwardly when you told him about your primary commitment, but even he withdrew as you explained how your secondary commitment had further scarred you.

He was perhaps the only person in the entire world to know just how heartbroken you had felt when Saeran began ignoring you for MC.

The words hurt, as they left your lips, but saying them aloud was like a reminder to yourself, that this was the life you had lived and the fate you'd resigned yourself to.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N)," V murmured, pinching the bridge of his nose. "The Mint Eye has truly scarred you. I can't believe Rika would go this far..."

"You mean the Savior?" You asked, intrigued. "You knew her?"

V nodded his head, leaning back into the chair he was sitting on, "Rika...yes. I loved her. The same way you must have loved Ray."

Oh.

Well, that was one thing V didn't know.

His real name.

You refused to call him Saeran, the name too charged with emotion and pain for you to bring it past your lips anymore; and so you called him what everyone else at the Mint Eye did.

Ray.

The blue-haired man in front of you, though, seemed to raise his eyebrows every time you called your former best friend by that name.

It was almost as if he knew the truth.

Almost.

Before you could ponder the issue further, Vanderwood walked in, his mug of coffee refilled.

You raised your eyebrows. How much coffee does this guy drink?

"Is backstory time over?" He looked from you to V, self-concluding that it was. "Good. I have Luciel working in his room. He's trying to hack into the Mint Eye and access their camera feeds. Can you help him with that, (Y/N)?"

You nodded your head. "If I have a computer."

"Use one of Luciel's laptops. He always carries extra. And," Vanderwood grabbed your wrist before you were quite able to exit the room. "Be careful. I mean it."

You stared at Vanderwood, not quite sure what he meant, but the man was ushering you out of the room before you could ask any further questions.

You sighed, heading into what you hoped was Luciel's room, knocking softly at the door. "Can I come in?"

You heard a lock click, and the door opened, Luciel's confused form appearing instantly. "What are you doing here?"

"Vanderwood told me to see if I could help you. He said that you were trying to hack into the Mint Eye?" You glanced around the room, noting three different laptops open. "I worked with their software every day. My user might still be active."

Luciel laughed. "You really think they wouldn't have disabled your privileges?"

"There's only one other person who worked with me in that room and..." You let your voice trail off. "He might not have."

Luciel shot you a questioning look, curious to know more details but not pressing. "Ray," You murmured breathlessly, the single syllable answering all his questions.

You got to work quickly, managing to engross yourself in the world of code despite the uncomfortableness of your surroundings, the overly soft bed providing no support whatsoever for your back.

You glanced up at Luciel, momentarily shook as you saw not his features, but Saeran's. They really do look similar, you thought, disturbed by the uncanny resemblance. Objectively speaking, they were quite different. Luciel's hair was red whilst Saeran's was white; Luciel's eyes flecked with gold, whereas Saeran projected a mint green glare.

But, you mused, you had only met Saeran after his secondary commitment, when his hair had been bleached white and his eye color altered. Who knows how similar he and Luciel may have looked before Saeran was changed? You remembered, with surprise, that a long time ago, the edges of Saeran's hair were reddish, a physical memory of what he had told you was a happier time for him.

Maybe that was his natural hair color?

You shook your head, pushing the thoughts from your mind and got back to work. No good would come from forming conspiracy theories in your mind.

Alright, Saeran hasn't deleted my user yet, You thought to yourself, smiling. Had the boy consciously left this end open for you? No...he made it clear that he doesn't care about me anymore. So why....?

You hesitated, before inputting your password. This is too easy.

Your finger hovered over the 'Enter' key before you powered through and pressed it.

You bit your lip, noting how the system was taking longer than usual to process your ID. "Luciel, I think I'm in," You whispered to the redhead, who immediately ceased his typing and came over to you, observing the 'Loading' screen with calculating eyes.

Those seconds where you didn't know what would follow were blissful ignorance, you realized later.

Gradually, you felt the laptop you were using become hot in your lap. Before long, the internal fans were whirring at what you could only assume was their maximum speed, the laptop making ungodly sounds.

You glanced at Luciel and then back at the laptop. It looked new enough; what kind of program was running in the background to cause this kind of response?

Saeran!

You realized with a start that, of course, it was his doing.

"Shit, shit, shit!" You mumbled, frantically trying to close the program, stop Saeran from hacking into your laptop. Your former friend must have been on standby, waiting for what he knew would be your first attempt in.

You slammed your finger on the power button, but the keyboard controls were locked—no matter how hard you pressed, it was rendered useless. The screen blanked, temporarily, then glitched into an audio file. No...this isn't a prerecorded audio clip. It's a live connection!

"Ah~" A voice cooed from inside your laptop, the sound distorted with a voice changer placed over it. Even with the filter, though, you'd recognize that inflection anywhere. "There you are, my sweet princess."

You winced at the nickname.

Saeran had only ever used it lovingly, as he'd gaze down at you with a soft smile on his lips while preparing to kiss your cheek.

The mocking tone in his voice made you cringe, a piece of your already broken heart further shattering.

"Sae-" You began, trying to reason with the person you once knew so well.

"Don't call me that!" The voice shrieked, stopping you. "I've...I've come to give you a warning, (Y/N). I know you're working with that...that liar."

"Who?" You asked, fingers no longer flying across the keyboard as you halted all motion to talk to Saeran for the first time in weeks.

"Don't interrupt me!" Saeran shrieked, evidently unstable. "I know how you stole MC from me, how that liar is sitting with you right now."

Only then did you notice the red blinking light beside the camera on the laptop, but Luciel responded before you did, his arm darting around your body to cover the laptop camera with his thumb. "Who are you?" He demanded, voice hard.

"You should know that, shouldn't you?"

You bit your lip. Saeran wasn't acting normal. Hell, he hadn't been normal for almost a month, but this was too much. He was acting psychotic. Crazy, even.

He wasn't him anymore.

"Anyway," Saeran began again, "I've come to give you a warning, (Y/N). If you ever set foot in the Mint Eye again, we will ruin you. Did you think taking the Elixirs was bad? That what happened to your eyes could even begin to compare to true pain? Don't return, (Y/N)." Saeran threatened, "But if you keep working with that traitor, we'll have no choice but to hunt you down and bring the Mint Eye to you."

For a moment, the room was quiet, the only audible sound being your shaky breath.

"May we never see each other again, princess," Saeran cooed, before the laptop let out a burst of electricity and shut down. You shrieked at the pulsation of heat, pushing the device from your lap and onto the bed where you cradled your stinging things.

"Who...was that?" Luciel whispered, his arm no longer around you as he turned to meet your eyes.

"Ray," You whispered, trying not to cry.

But the tears had already begun flowing.

MASTERLIST

Neutral Route: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | ✔

Saeyoung’s Route: 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | ✔

Saeran’s Route: 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | ✔

Word count: 1.7k

Notes: This story takes a couple turns over the next few chapters (I'm excited to see what you guys think of the developments in chapter 10! :D) and I'll be honest - things may get dark here and there. I want to know what you guys think of that, since I, personally, love the deranged interpretations of Saeyoung and Saeran. I feel like both characters are so multi-dimensional, and that Cheritz really only showed us the insane side of Saeran, rather than Saeyoung - but what if the circumstances were even more fucked up? I'm currently drafting out another Saeran x reader x Saeyoung and it's 10x darker than what's in here...but the plot moves faster, and reader-chan will be with both brothers, at the same time, from the very beginning. (But it will be have mature/explicit themes) Are you interested in reading something like that? Drop me a message and tell me what you think :)

Comment & Like

Next Update: 1/30/20

I do not own the rights to Mystic Messenger or any of the characters within it.

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fallenqueen2 · 4 years

Text

Paul’s Plan 1 [TWD-Bad Things Happen Bingo]

Paul’s Plan

It has been a month since Paul went missing; he then reappears as Negan’s negotiator. Whose side is Paul really on?

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Rating: T

Square Filled: Betrayal [Chapter 1], bedside vigil [Chapter 2]

Tags: badthingshappenbingo, Betrayal, AU, Glenn and Abraham live, who is Paul really betraying, Daryl has feelings for Paul, badass Paul, Negan is his own warning, character death, whump

Created for @badthingshappenbingo

Ao3 Link

Chapter 1 - Betrayal

Daryl flicked the cigarette butt off of the wall as he squinted at the tree line, seeing nothing and disappointment settled in his gut had been doing for a solid month.

"Rick said you were up here," Maggie commented as she carefully made her way up onto the walls of Alexandria, her hand settling on the small swell of her growing stomach and accepted a bottle of water from the man as she sat in the chair next to Daryl.

"How ya feeling?" Daryl asked seeing sadness hidden in her eyes.

"Not great... It's been a whole month Daryl and I know I should accept it that he's gone but I just..." Maggie trailed off to gulp down some water, rubbing her stomach tenderly.

"It's Paul," Daryl fought the urge to light up again, but even that reminded him of the Scout. The Scout who had tossed Daryl this pack of cigarettes with a cocky smile on his lips.

"He always comes back," Maggie sighed as she stretched out her legs.

"Yeah," Daryl knew what the woman was saying; he felt his unexplained absent like a damn missing limb. They all knew what it was like out there with the Walkers and with the Saviors but Paul always came back alive.

"Ah, shit!" Daryl swore when three trucks burst from the tree line and he snatched up the binoculars to confirm.

"It's the Saviors, shit. Tell Rick and the others!" Daryl swore as he grabbed his crossbow as he leapt to his feet.

"On it!" Maggie sounded pissed as she hurried back down the steps to gather the others.

Daryl was on her heels, anger coursing through his veins as he and Rick stepped out of the gate of Alexandria where the three trucks were waiting.

"Well, ain't this a cute little place you got here," a man called out as he stepped out one of the trucks wearing jeans, a leather jacket and a barbed baseball bat resting on his shoulder.

Daryl knew this was Negan himself and his fingers tightened on his crossbow as he kept it aimed at Negan while the others spread out around him and Rick to keep the other armed Saviors in their sights.

"Now, now I know this is a surprise and all but I'm here to negotiate peaceful like." Negan raised his hands mockingly.

"I don't buy it," Rick said simply as he rested his hand on the handle of his gun as he stared Negan down.

"It's the truth, usually I would waltz up in here and demand half of everything you have and maybe kill one or two people to really drive my point in. However recently I've been... Persuaded to try ahem a less bloody way. I even brought a negotiator!" Negan smiled a bit deranged when he told them that he had been persuaded. Daryl got a sick feeling in his stomach as Negan whistled and the door of the truck behind him opened up.

Combat boots his hit the ground before Paul came into sight. Daryl let his crossbow lower in pure shock while Maggie lurched toward with a cry of Paul's name but Glenn held her back. Paul's hair was loose around his shoulders; he was wearing tight black jeans with a plunging black sheer V-neck shirt. His throat was covered in fresh and healing hickeys but what was obvious was the handprint that spanned his throat. What terrified Daryl was the blank and empty look that filled Paul's usually so expressive eyes as he looked at them.

“You seem to know my husband," Negan commented as he sauntered over to Paul and Daryl felt his blood run cold at the term. They all had been told about Negan’s harem of wives and how got them. Daryl felt sick as the marks on Paul's skin made sense now, but Daryl had to wonder how the hell Negan had gotten his hands on the ninja-like scout and what the man threatened him with to keep him in line.

"You didn't tell me you know these people and you know I don't like being lied to boy." Negan snarled as he curled his fingers around Paul's throat, matching up with the bruises that were already there.

Glenn had to hold onto Maggie tighter when she lunged forward again and Daryl's crossbow flew back up towards Negan, itching to out a bolt through his head. Daryl noticed that Rick had his gun out of his holster and eyes blazing as he took in Negan and Paul.

"You didn't ask," Paul said simply as if he didn't have a madman choking him.

"I didn't ask huh? Heh, still such a sassy thing you are. Looks like I’ll have to try harder to break you." Negan laughed as he squeezed Paul's throat once before stepping away and turning back to the Alexandrians who all had varying looks of horror and disgust on their faces as Negan’s words sank in. Daryl’s finger twitched on the trigger of his crossbow before he let out a curse when Negan wrapped his arm possessively around Paul’s waist and pulled the scout in front of him to act as a human shield.

Negan was pressed far to close to Paul’s back for Daryl’s comfort and his hand came back up around Paul’s throat once again. From the hiss that Maggie let out and the cocking of Rick’s gun the others felt the same as Daryl did, but there was no way to get a clean shot off with where Paul was standing.

“Negan wants half of everything you have in exchange for the Saviour’s protection.” Paul recited off; keeping those blank eyes locked on Rick whose jaw was clenched as he tried to figure out what the hell was going on.

“If we say no?” Rick asked slowly and Paul inhaled sharply when Negan’s hand tightened around his throat, forcing his head back as Negan lifted his bat to point at Rick.

“We start offing you one by one until you come to your senses, but also remember if you try anything pretty boy here may be my husband but that doesn’t mean I won’t mess him up a bit or let my men have their fun.” Negan gave a sick smile and Daryl snarled under his breath at what the man was implying and he heard Maggie shout out curse after curse as she struggled against her husband’s arms.

“You have one day to decide,” Paul said simply like Negan wasn’t openly telling them all what would happen to him if Rick didn’t give into Negan’s demands.

“Load up men! We’re having a party tonight!” Negan shouted out and his men let out a cheer while Paul’s face went a shade paler and his eyes flashed with something before he schooled his expression, but Daryl saw it nonetheless and it set a fire in his chest.

It may look like Paul had betrayed them and Hilltop to Negan but Daryl was a hunter and he knew Paul. There was more happening here than anyone knew and it made Daryl’s skin itch.

Daryl kept his crossbow trained on Negan who was walking Paul back to the truck, his hand obviously gripping the other man’s ass as they went and Daryl wanted nothing more than to chop that hand off and pull Paul into his arms.

The Alexandrian’s didn’t move or lower their guards until the three trucks were out of sight.

“Well shit,” Rick swore as he shoved his gun back into his holster.

“Something ain’t right, Jesus would never go to Negan let alone agree to be that bastard’s husband.” Maggie exploded, finally wiggling out of Glenn’s grip, holding her baby bump protectively as she spoke with fury burning in her eyes.

“We don’t know him that well, maybe this was his plan all along,” Abraham suggested and Daryl had to fight the urge to punch the man. Paul was a lot of things, prick included but he was no traitor.

“We don’t know much about what is going on and that makes our position difficult.” Rick ran his fingers through his hair as the group made their back into the safe-zone. Maggie being held back by Glenn once again, her fury directed at Abraham for even suggesting that Paul had been playing them.

“Even if we could attack, that puts Paul and whoever he’s protecting in danger.” Rick rumbled to Daryl, giving the man a side look and Daryl refused to read too much into that knowing look his brother was giving him.

“You see those bruises? He’s already in danger! We have no clue what else has been happening to him! They’ve had him for a MONTH!” Maggie fumed before she took a deep breath.

“I’m going to get food and maybe punch something,” Maggie said with a false calm before she stormed off, Glenn opting to stay back and he shrugged his shoulders when given questioning looks. He knew his wife and wasn’t about to get in the way of her anger.

“We have to make a plan, a good one that doesn’t leave anything to chance,” Michonne said simply and Daryl grunted his agreement, he had to make sure whatever their plan was that it involved Paul being safe from Negan and his men.

Daryl tried not to think too hard about the party that Negan mentioned that had Paul looking terrified for that brief moment. He knew if he thought too hard, horrible things would appear in his mind and he wasn’t sure he could handle that right now.

~~/~~

“Hurry up boy, the party is getting started!” Negan barked as he walked into the room Paul was staying in while in Sanctuary. Paul was still wearing the same clothes he had during the encounter with Alexandria, but his eyes were glinting dangerously.

“I don’t think so,” Paul said simply and Negan’s face twisted up in anger and he stalked towards Paul, swinging his bat at his side.

“You think you have a goddamn choice boy?” Negan snarled as he reached towards Paul before he stumbled. Paul’s lips turned up into a smirk as Negan staggered backwards, Lucille dropping onto the floor as he curled his arms around his stomach.

“You little shit, what did you do?” Negan rasped as he felt to his knees and Paul stepped forward so he was towering over the man.

“It took a month, but you and your most insane followers finally have enough built up in your systems to take you down,” Paul said as he wrapped his long hair up into a topknot as Negan swore.

“You poisoned me? ME?” Negan was cut off by a violent cough.

“I did originally plan on slitting your throat that first night, but I didn’t want a blood bath to follow when half of those here are only here because you forced them. So instead I talked with everyone here, I chose those who would turn on you and fed you and the rest small amounts of a tree root that Daryl showed me once. Harmless in small doses but if you kept ingesting those amounts day after day for a month, well.” Paul picked up Lucille as he spoke, swinging it through the air as Negan had been doing moments ago.

“You won’t get out of here alive boy,” Negan rasped out before he coughed up blood, doubling over in pain as his body began to shut down thanks to the poison in his system.

Negan fell onto the floor in a boneless heap when several explosions went off over Sanctuary and noise grew from outside and Paul just tapped Lucille against the floor by Negan’s head.

“You really think I didn’t have an escape plan in place? I have friends everywhere and those explosions came courtesy of King Ezekiel and the Kingdom. What’s left of your saviors will be taken care of, but you won’t be around to see it.” Paul promises as he lifted Lucille and took a steadying breath before he swung it down with all his strength with a sharp crack as barbed wire and solid wood connected with Negan’s head.

Paul winced as he pulled Lucille away from the now bloody mess that had been Negan’s head. Paul swallowed down bile at the sight of flesh and muscle attached to the barbed wire and the burst eyeballs in Negan’s caved in head. Negan was dead and no longer able to harm anyone and something akin to relief coursed through Paul’s body.

Paul’s head snapped up when the door was flung open, Shiva growling and fur on end as she leapt into the room, Ezekiel standing at the ready behind his tiger.

“Jesus my friend! The compound is ours!” Ezekiel announced in triumph and then his eyes fell on the bloodied bat and what was left of Negan.

“Come, my friend, let us leave this place of horrors.” Ezekiel held his hand out as Shiva purred in contentment from the place next to him.

“That is the best offer I’ve had in months.” Paul smiled as he stepped towards Ezekiel before his eyes widened and a strangled choke came from his mouth as blood dripped down his chin.

“PAUL!” Ezekiel roared as he lunged forward as Paul collapsed, his hands curling around the side of Paul’s neck where a bullet had just torn through.

“FIND THAT SHOOTER!” Ezekiel roared at some of his men who had been guarding the hall as Paul’s blood seeped between his fingers.

“Stay with me Jesus, come on you can’t give up after all of this.” Ezekiel encouraged Paul whose eyes were closed but his chest was still moving up and down as he breathed heavily even as he slipped unconscious.

“Fight Jesus, don’t give up!” Ezekiel kept repeating as more blood spilled from the wound on Paul’s neck.

#The Walking Dead #bad things happen bingo #betrayal #AU #Jesus & Negan #Jesus & Daryl Dixon #Jesus & Ezekiel #Glenn and Abraham live #who is paul really betraying?#Daryl has feelings for Paul #badass Paul Roiva #Negan is his own warning #character death #whump #fallenqueen2

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